Faith hoped it would be business as usual the next morning. Not a chance.
As she came into the kitchen, Emma wouldn't even look at her. Spike, hanging out in a shady corner, that's all he was doing. Oh, and let's not forget the way everyone was acting all nervous around her, like they were waiting for Mount So-Not-A-Saint Faith to erupt or something.
"Faith," Xander said, as soon as she stepped into the room. "Good morning. Wow," he babbled, glancing at the clock, his voice pitched a half step up from normal, "look at the time. There's something I need to do. Somewhere that's not here."
Willow stood up, fumbling all nervous-like. Here comes the no-so-convincing excuse to leave. "I…um, need to help Xander." The witch would need to work on that one. And she was off.
Buffy didn't say much of anything, just sat innocently drinking her coffee.
The entire thing was getting on her nerves, good night's sleep or not. "Thinkin' I got stuff to do, too. I'm outta here," Faith said.
Faith flew out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing a jacket and her car keys. She didn't need this and she wasn't going to subject herself to it. Wasn't worth it.
"Leaving so soon?"
Like she didn't know that was going to happen. "Little bright for you. Might want to move." Faith opened the door, watching as Spike jumped backwards, the sunlight barely missing him. She walked out the door, slamming it so hard; it swung back open instead of latching closed.
XXXXX
"Well," Spike said, knowing that Buffy was standing just behind him. "That was a roll and a tickle, eh?" He watched as she made her way to the front door, closing it gently.
"Isn't it usually?" she finally said.
"So, why are you really here?" she asked, sitting down in the wingback chair, crossing her leg under her.
Spike sighed, realizing he had been holding his non-breath. Waiting for the wrath of Faith. Now that she had left, he knew he could relax… even if only for the moment.
"Where's Harris's patch?"
Buffy gave him the shortened version of the new patchless Xander.
"Good for him," Spike said, actually meaning it.
"And no more changing the subject. Why are you here? I mean, really."
"Didn't like being away," he looked around, making sure the room was relatively sunshine safe. Satisfied, he sat down in an accompanying chair.
Buffy laughed. "Oh, because it's so much fun in Detroit," she said waving her arm about.
Spike smiled at that. "Let's see. Hang out with Angel-boy or my two favorite slayers? Decided I'd opt for the latter." Spike was more then ready for yet another subject change. "What's been goin' on around here?"
Buffy shook her head. "Do you want to know what's going on, what isn't going on, or what could go on?"
"How about "D", all of the above?"
"Okay," Buffy began. "What's going on? Nothing. What isn't going on? A lot of slaying. What could go on? A sacrificial virgin to open the Hellmouth we are currently sitting on. How's that?"
Spike said. "Sacrificing a virgin? A little clichéd, isn't it?"
"Isn't it all cliché nowadays?"
Spike nodded his head in agreement. "Good point." He glanced toward the kitchen. "What's with the junior slayer?"
"Which part?"
"There are parts?"
"Most definitely parts."
"Okay, let's start with the first part. What is she doing here?"
Buffy shifted uncomfortably, but continued. "Giles thought it was a good idea for her to stay here. Being a virgin and a slayer, she's screaming, 'Come sacrifice me'."
"Ouch. Can see that. A virgin, eh?"
"Spike…"
His hands flew up in surrender. "Just haven't seen one of those in awhile...besides the bit. It's a… novelty."
"Yeah, right. I'm sure that's what you were thinking."
Spike watched as she rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but smile. "What's the rest?"
"She has attached herself to Faith. Little sister wannabe. She and Faith are a team when it comes to patrolling. Emma's actually softened her up a little…"
"Softened? You're still talking about Faith, right? The one who tried to dust me using Mr. Shiny on her way out this morning?"
"Maybe softened isn't the right word, but they kinda clicked." Buffy paused. "What else? Oh! Emma has a crush on Xander and actually asked him to sleep with her because she didn't want to die one. And that was even before she knew about the whole 'sacrificing a virgin' thing."
Spike couldn't help it, he actually laughed. "The virgin's got a crush on Harris. Well, if that doesn't beat all. Sure she's not part demon? Even a small part? Harris seems to have a knack for attracting them."
"Um, nope. Pretty sure she's all human. One-hundred percent bonafide virgin slayer."
"Well, since she's still…intact, I'll guess the boy said no."
Buffy shook her finger at him. "Do not say a word. You hear me?"
"Lips are sealed, Slayer. Lips are sealed." Spike raised his hand. "Scout's honor and all that."
XXXXX
Spike knew he wasn't going anywhere, but the idea of sleeping on the couch for another night didn't sit well with him either. Being on display didn't necessary bother him. What did he have to hide?
What worried him was living in the same house with a brassed-off slayer. Add that to the fact that the couch was right in front of a really big window… Piss her off enough and he'd be chancing becoming a permanent part of an already dusty living room.
Spike decided that sometimes the old ways were the best, so he set up shop in the basement. There wasn't a cot to be had, but Buffy had found him a futon. A futon? That didn't sound too manly, but it was soft, and he'd be able to sleep on it all happy-like.
"Thanks," he told Buffy as she placed a folded blanket and pillow on top of it.
"No problem. Something kind of familiar among the not-so-much."
"What?"
"You? Basement?"
"Ah." Spike started roaming around, checking things out. "You mentioned Giles. Where is he?"
"He left yesterday, said he had some research to do. Called this morning and said he wasn't quite done yet and he'd be back later this afternoon. And before you ask, I told him you were here."
"And what did he have to say to that?" Spike asked, sitting down on the futon and looking at her. "Was he pleased as Punch at my being here?"
Buffy sat down next to him. "Actually, he kinda was. Wants to talk to you about the hellmouth and the amulet and all that. He never got to do that. It's a thing."
Spike laughed quietly. "Tell him that it was old hat by now? The hellmouth has been closed, yet again."
"You know Giles," Buffy said, "doesn't matter as long as it's got facts and magic or its old and interesting...or all of the above."
Spike watched as Buffy fiddled with the bracelet she was wearing.
"Somethin' on your mind?" he asked.
"Angel."
"Angel?"
"Yeah."
"The pouf?"
"Yes. And no, not in the way you're thinking. What's going on with him lately? He seems…different. Distracted."
Spike wished he knew. "Somethin' big going down I think. Prat's not sharing though. Not telling any of us anything. You thought he was broody-boy before, you should see him now."
"I kinda got that when I talked to him. Nothing we can do to help?"
"Can't say there is, love. He's not talkin'. Not much help any of us can do at the moment."
"What about Wesley? Does he know anything?"
"If he does, he's not talkin' either."
"Why do I get the sense it's only a matter of time before everything blows up in our faces?"
Spike squeezed her hand. "Probably because it's true, love."
XXXXX