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Around 1, Spike had a rude awakening, finding himself slammed against a wall by someone taller than he.

Spike's nose bled and he winced. "Bloody hell. Not again…"

The male threw the other against the floor, and then lifted him by the back of Spike's shirt collar. Actually, scratch that. It was the back of his shirt's collar. "Get out of my home!" He roared, dragging him to the door, throwing him against it.

Panting a little, he nodded, rubbing his lip. "Okay…Okay..." He figured it was the stepfather, which of course, it was.

The abusive male grabbed Spike's arm and pushed him back against the floor, so he could open the door.

Spike laid there a moment, closing his eyes, breathing a bit faster than usual. Wow, all this trouble over a houseguest. That was the first and last time he'd go into someone's home.

Joyce and Buffy ran downstairs in nightclothes. Buffy gasped and knelt beside the younger male. "Spike!" She touched the side of his face. Then she looked up to her brown haired, rugged looking stepfather, a sort of fear in her eyes. "Spike is our guest for a few days, Dad. He means no harm."

Joyce went to her husband and rubbed his arm. "It's alright, Wayne. Spike is a good man. He's not going to hurt anyone."

Wayne backhanded Joyce, making her fall to the ground, holding her cheek. "I might. Get that thing out of here."

Seeing the man hurt Joyce sent ripples of anger through him. Slowly, he stood up, wiping the blood from his lip and nose. He probably had a few other scrapes and bruises he hadn't discovered yet. "You can hit me all you'd like, ponce. Start hittin' the girls and I get involv'd." His eyes turned a cold blue.

The man just about laughed. "Nothing new! They're used to it by now."

Buffy bit her lip, not saying anything. She was going to side with Spike, no doubt. But she couldn't say anything without getting hurt again.

The older woman stood up, eyes glassy. "You need to leave, Wayne." She said softly, but to the point.

Spike clenched his fists, stopping himself from killing the man where he stood. He kinda thought that he might lose a few points with the Summers women if he killed the stepfather. Just a few though.

He did laugh this time, not listening to anything his wife said. No, he was amused by what Spike was saying. "You're here in my home telling me not to do something that I do all the time. This is good. Keep going."

That was it. His trigger. Spike took a step forward and right hooked the man in the face with all the strength he could muster. It hurt his hand.

Wayne fell to the ground, holding onto his jaw. "You stupid little fag!" He got up, spitting out some blood.

The women stood back, Buffy's arms around her mother. They were both pretty much expressionless, but secretly happy he was getting what he deserved.

Rearing his foot back, he launched it right into Wayne's groin. Then he gave the most satisfied smirk when the man doubled over with pain.

Wayne groaned, holding his wounded manliness. His pride was wounded about the same as well. No one had ever stood up to him.

Spike, still bleeding, watched the man with hateful eyes. "Get up, you stupid ponce. I'm not done." He waited a moment, then became impatient and kicked him while he was down. Then he dragged the man out the door, making him stand up. He kneed him in the stomach, then pushed him down the few steps there were.

Wayne started to get up, taking something out of his back pocket. He started forward, towards Spike, a grin on his face.

Buffy stood in the doorway and watched silently. She didn't notice him holding anything either. Not until it was too late. Wayne had a pocket knife, and when he was close enough to Spike, he'd stabbed him in the side.

Spike held his bloody wound, biting his lip. A small gasp of pain escaped his lips.

Buffy put her hands over her mouth and ran to Spike, moving his hand. There was a lot of blood. She looked up at her new father. "Leave, Wayne!"

Not yet. He wasn't finished. He pushed Buffy out of the way and was ready to slice Spike's arm.

When Buffy fell to the ground, Spike fumed. He kicked Wayne in the shins and struggled with him to get the knife away. When he did, he pushed the older man to the ground.

Wayne scoffed and got up, leaving, muttering about stupid women and boy toys.

Spike dropped the pocket knife and went to Buffy's side, helping her up. "Are you okay?" He asked her in a gentle voice.

Buffy slowly got up and hugged Spike, tears ready to fall. Sniffling, she took his hand, leading him inside the house to fix up his wounds.

Blinking, he didn't say anything. But he glanced down at their hands; her warm, delicate hand was holding his large rugged one. He spotted some blood and stopped her, turning her hand over. Her knuckles were dripping a deep crimson. "You're hurt." He told her gently.

Following his eyes, she sighed lightly and nodded. "So are you." She kept walking, dragging him inside. Taking him into the upstairs bathroom, she sat him down on the closed toilet seat, then grabbed the white First Aid kit shoved under the sink.

Spike watched her for a moment. "I'm sorry…"

Pulling out some things she'd need, she looked at him. "For what?"

"Getting you and you mum hurt over me. I should've just left when he told me to."

"I wouldn't have let you. I didn't let you. Take off your shirt." She instructed.

Chuckling, he got up, taking it off slowly, as to not hurt him. "Pants now, too?" He teased. "Anythin' to get my shirt off, eh?"

Wrinkling her nose, she ignored how his body looked for a moment. Her main concern was cleaning his wound. She got down on her knees, some needed items in hand. "Think it punctured anything in there?"

Raising a brow, he watched her kneel before him and made his mind keep clean thoughts. Or…he was trying. Really, he was. "No. I'm pretty hard…" His eyes went wide and he shook his head, saying quickly. "Strong! Pretty strong mos' of the time.." Biting his lip, he looked away from her. A small blush ran across his face.

Buffy giggled. "Is that so?" She grabbed an alcohol wipe that her kit provided and opened it up. "Well, hard man. This is gonna sting." Slowly, she rubbed it over the bloody stab mark, which was about an inch long and pretty thin, but the knife had gone all the way into him.

Wincing a bit, he sucked in a breath, any dirty thought he had disappearing for a moment while his wound burned. When she started to blow on it to help the pain, his mind went wild once again.

She pulled back and bandaged it, then stood up, tending to his other wounds.

Spike was really glad she hadn't told him to take off his pants after all.

Later on, when his wounds were all patched up and everything, Spike went downstairs and carefully laid on the couch, turning on the TV. Sure, it was like 4:30 in the morning, but he had this urge to watch a Christmas cartoon. Okay, not really. He just needed to take his mind off of Buffy. Off of naked Buffy. Cowgirl Buffy. Dominatr…No. Too far. Shaking his head, he curled up, glad the pants he wore were a bit too big.

Joyce was in bed again, sleeping just fine, only her feelings hurt.

Dawn, the sleepy one that she was, had slept through the entire ordeal. But that was a good thing. At least she wasn't hurt.

Buffy came downstairs, holding a blanket and a pillow. Her hand was bandaged, which Spike had cleaned and wrapped up. He even placed a kiss there, hoping for it to heal. That gesture had surprised even him, but he said nothing about it.

Spike sat up and looked at her, smiling softly. "Hey. Bunkin' down here? I'll take the floor.." He got up.

She shook her head. "No. It's bad enough you have to sleep on this crappy couch. I'm sorry you didn't have blankets before." Setting the things on the couch, she smiled at him. "Thanks for taking me up to bed. And thanks for chasing Wayne off. You're real brave, William."

His eyes watched her and he listened to every word she said. Every syllable. Watched her every gesture. "No problem at all. I'd do it a thousand times." Hearing her say his actual name almost brought tears to his eyes. He sat down, then looked up at her.

Glancing at the TV, she giggled. "Hmm. Christmas movies? Have I got you hooked after Charlie Brown?"

Grinning, he shrugged a shoulder, and wasn't exactly lying when he told her kinda.

Nodding, she beamed. "I feel proud. Okay. I'll let you get some sleep." She turned to leave.

"Don' think I will. Kinda scared to now. Everytim' I come in here I get hurt in some way." He chuckled, looking around the living room.

"I don't think I'll fall asleep either. Just not so tired anymore."

He laid down sideways, putting the cover over himself. Sighing, he nodded. "Yeah."

As she was ready to go up, she glanced back at him, then quietly made her way back. "Spike…?" Her eyes moved to the ground, kind of sheepishly.

His eyes landed on her in an instant. "Yes, love?"

Slowly, her eyes met his. Then she moved forward and knelt down in front of the couch, so she was eye level with him.

A brow rose and he stared into her deep eyes, getting lost in them. When she leaned in and placed the most innocent kiss to his lips, his heart fluttered and his eyes closed slowly.

Her heart was thumping like crazy. She knew she shouldn't be kissing him, but she was. And God, did she want more.

It caught him off-guard when she started to suck on his lower lip. He groaned and shivered.

She pulled away slowly, nibbling his lip. Then she smiled a little. "Night, Spike."

He let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Night, Buffy..." His voice was husky. But she was already going up the stairs when he said it. Yep. Cowgirl Buffy would be haunting his dreams for a while.

Buffy lay down in her bed, a smile on her face. Wrapping up in her blankets, she fell asleep after all. Spike wearing nothing but a towel was her entertainment as she slept.

Isn't Spike always entertaining in no clothing?

Sorry for the cliffy before. I so evil! Review and I'll update soon!