Heh. Sorry guys. I forgot my disclaimer before. I'm so use to fictionpress. So yeah, I kinda own the characters, since I've made them no longer in the Hellmouth and such. But the credit goes to Joss and the gang. Spike's mine though. I'll share him sometimes if I get money. Maybe. Neh...James Marsters is god.

Enjoy. Reviews are kindly accepted and loved.

Buffy opened the front door to her house and pushed it open, waiting for their new friend to walk inside.

Her sister walked right in and smiled a little, sitting on the third to last step of the stairs, watching secretly.

Spike was still taking his time, looking around at everything. The grass, the porch, the tree out front. His eyes were wide with amazement as if he had just won a date with a celebrity or something. Looking up at the entrance, he saw Buffy standing there, door open wide, a smile on her face. She looked so fabulous. He'd have to ask her to stand right there, just like that, a bit later. He was going to draw her if it was the last thing he did.

The older woman's smile started to slowly leave, thinking something had been wrong. What if he didn't like her house? But why would that matter? She was offering to help him. The least he could do was look happy.

"Look! You're doin' it again!" He went up to her quickly, but not at a psychotic oh-I'm-going-to-jump you quickly.

She blinked, confused. "What?" There were no signs of distress, which was odd, because a larger male, whom she'd found on the street, could be dangerous. But Buffy was used to helping people. It was a bit scary how much she trusted people.

Going up the stairs, to the front door, he stood about three feet from her. "You're all pouty. Keep the smile. What would happen if your glow were to leave? People all over the world who never saw your smile would never look upon the face of an angel. You're beauty is…effulgent."

Gasping a little, she smiled widely, dimples showing. However, she was confused on what that last word meant. She figured it was a British word and took it as a compliment. "Thank you, Spike. That's about the nicest thing I've ever heard."

"People don't treat you well enough, then. That has to change." He said firmly, then slowly went inside, looking around at everything. Feeling out of place, he shifted his stance a little. The house was so large and clean and here was this cruddy looking male who probably smelt like an old locker room. Biting his lip, a nervous feeling swept over him. And then something touched him on the small of his back. He jumped and let out a sort of yelp, turning to see a giggling Buffy.

"Sorry. Would you like to take that shower now?" She asked.

He let out a breath and nodded. "Please. It'll be much appreciated."

Nodding she led him over to the stairs and started up them slowly. Dawn had run up when she heard them talking about the shower.

Spike followed right after her, which was a bad idea. Her teacup behind was swishing back and forth right in front of his face. His eyes moved to the stairs he was stepping on. Sure, she was the woman of his dreams and the only person to speak with him in such a nice way since he'd been on the streets, but he wouldn't take advantage of her like that. He'd respect her. He could be cocky, and sometimes an ass, but he would never mistreat a woman like Buffy Summers.

She led him up the stairs and to the bathroom, walking inside, the man following, a bit shy about it.

Pointing to a blue towel, she told him he could use that and that she would get him some clothes. And she also explained where the shaver was and other things he might need.

He thanked her and watched her leave, a small smile plastered on his face. Closing the door, he got right to that shower, enjoying every drop of cold water that came from the shower head.

After his shower and shave, Spike rubbed some lotion onto his face, looking at himself in the mirror. "Wow. I do have eyebrows…"

He fingered his left one, touching the scar that was there, which he got when he was mugged. That was a terrible day. It was about two weeks after he'd lost his home. He had been sleeping in his box when he was yanked out and thrown against the wall brutally. Half awake, he was beaten and the only thing he had to offer was his leather trench coat which he loved with a passion. They stole it and left William there to bleed and wonder what he had done to those apelike men that he'd never seen before.

Wincing at the memory, he shook his head and tried to think about the better times he'd been through, but was distracted by how blue his eyes were. He'd never realized it before. Then again, he hadn't looked into a mirror for a while. His hair was too long for his liking. Pushing it out of the way, he made a mental note to get it cut.

Sighing, he tightened the towel around his lower half some more. When'd he get so skinny? Putting his hand to his rib, he traced the bones, then moved down to his stomach area, outlining the muscle he now only faintly had there. Oh well. At least he was alive? No…Dead was okay too at the moment. He needed something to look forward to though.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Spike?"

There it was. Something to count on. At least he knew Buffy Summers.

When the man opened the door wide, Buffy just about dropped the clothes she was holding. She let her eyes linger over the man that was now cleaned up and wrapped in a towel that she had used quite a few times growing up in that house. Why was that stupid blue thing in the way! His strong calves, the way a bit of water dripped from his hair and slid down his built chest and well sculpted arms. Her mind told her to stop looking, but she was powerless.

Spike's eyebrow rose upward and he watched her. Was she drooling? Following her eyes, he slowly smirked and cleared his throat.

Jumping a little, she gave a sheepish smile, handing over the clothes. "You clean up real good."

"Thank you, love." He said softly, accepting what she gave him.

She left quickly and heard the click of the door shutting ring in her ears. Waving a hand in front of her face, she tried to cool herself down. Yeah. She was definitely not expecting to see that. His body was perfect! But she did notice one thing that made her sad. The man looked like he hadn't eaten in a long while. Going downstairs, she went into the kitchen and used her newly purchased groceries to make chicken, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots and celery, and a salad.

Dawn came down seconds later, helping her sister.

Spike came descended down the steps slowly, hand on the wooden railing, looking around. The clothes he wore were a bit too big for him, but they did look nice. Black jeans were held at his waist with a lot of help from a white belt. The shirt he wore was a light green and it made his eyes look sharper. Hearing the talking of women, he moved through the house, soon finding them, cooking.

Dawn turned to get something, but stopped, eyes landing on the male in the house. "Wow..." She said aloud, without really meaning to. Then she cursed inwardly and blushed, turning. With her back to him, she said softly. "You look great, Spike."

The older Summers woman looked over her shoulder and smiled, nodding. "You really do." She went back to tossing the salad.

Giving a lopsided smile, he spoke. "Thanks ever so. Really appreciate you girls lettin' me shower and whatnot. I um…" He pointed at the back door. "Am I supposed to leave now?"

Buffy whirled around, a little too fast. She shook her head. "No. We're making dinner. And I was thinking…Would you like to spend the night?"

"I really couldn't do that. Already done enough for me. Don't wanna wear out my welcome."

She laughed a little. "Wear out your welcome? No. You've only been here like an hour."

His eyebrows drew together. "Do you trust me? Don't see how you could let a bloke like me juss come into your flat and bunk."

Dawn looked at him. "She's always nice to homeless people."

Spike's heart sunk in his chest. "Oh…I…"

He was cut off by Buffy. "Dawn! That's not how it is at all!" Calming, she looked at Spike. "Spike, I help out shelters and offer money to the needy a lot, especially around Christmas. I couldn't leave you out there alone. I wouldn't care if you stayed here forever. Only, it's not my house."

Watching her, he nodded. "I used to help out shelters too. Now I b'long in one."

Her eyes softened. "You did?"

"Yeah. Used to make money off my drawin's and sell 'um. Gave lots to needy kids." He nodded.

Buffy moved closer to him, listening intently. "You like to draw?"

"Love to. How I made a livin' and how livin' soon made me."

Dawn blinked. "So wait, your drawings suck and you couldn't make it as an artist?"

Buffy gasped and looked at her sister, scolding her with her eyes.

Spike chuckled and shook his head, admiring her bluntness. "No. I'm bloody good at it. Just had a bad year. My da died and I had to go back to England to bury 'im. Came back 'ere to Sunny-D and had no inspiration to draw 'nymore. Soon got kicked outta my flat an been livin' on the streets for over a year."

"Wow…That's so sad. I'm sorry." The brown haired girl said gently.

Buffy had to fight back tears. "Over a year? All because you had no reason to draw…" She shook her head and moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, hugging him.

This made him suck in a breath. His skin tingled all over and a shudder washed over him. He slowly put his hands around her and rubbed her back.

The woman pulled back and smiled. "Will you draw something for me?"

Still not quite back from heaven, he said dreamily. "Sure."

Beaming, she went back to cooking. "What kinds of things to you draw?"

Snapping back, he leaned against the island were Dawn was chopping carrots. He watched her a moment, then spoke. "Thin's I've got a passion for. Thin's I want to have."

"So you won't draw me?" She asked, chuckling a little.

"I'd draw you in a heartbeat."

Stopping what she was doing, she dwelled on this for a moment, then put the salad in the refrigerator. She checked on the chicken.

Changing the subject, he stood straight. "Can I help?"

Buffy looked at him. "We're almost done. Dawn, I'll finish that. Will you show Spike around properly, please?"

Dawn smiled and nodded, dropping her knife. "Sure. Follow me." She headed out, Spike followed as told.

The front door opened up and in came a tired Joyce Summers, carrying her purse lazily. Her hair was down messily, the suit she wore matching the color of her skin.
"Hi, Mom." Buffy chirped from the kitchen. Dawn was showing Spike around upstairs.

Joyce set her purse down and took off the jacket of her very formal suit, then slipped off her white shoes. "Hi, Hon." She headed into the kitchen, sighing. "What are you making?"

Buffy told her and smiled, pulling the chicken from the oven. She asked her mother to grab the salad from the fridge.

She did as she was asked, taking the bowl in one hand. Heading into the dining room, she set it down in the center of the table. Hearing someone coming down the stairs, she was ready to greet her younger daughter, but was surprised to see a strange man. He didn't see her. He headed into the living room.

The woman covered her mouth and ran back into the kitchen, grabbing a frying pan. Going back out at a fast speed, she went into the living room and as the man was turning around, she clonked him in the head with it. There was a satisfying bang.

She let out a sigh and headed into the kitchen to tell Buffy about the criminal in the house, then she remembered. Buffy had called her mother at work and told her about the guest. "Um…Buffy…?"

Buffy met her in the dining room. "Yeah, Mom? Why do you have a frying pan?"

Joyce let out a little laugh. "Uh…Does our guest have long hair?"

Nodding, she responded. "Yes…"

"A bit taller than you? Skinny?"

Buffy nodded again. "Uh huh."

The mother looked back out of the dining room, towards the living room. "Oops."

Ha. Alrighty. There was a lot of dialogue in this chap. Review, pleases! I'll be gone this weekend, but I hope to get the new one up soon. Love you all!