Spike woke suddenly and was startled to find that Buffy wasn't in bed. He glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed, which told him it was 7:45 AM. He groaned. Bloody hell. His keen ears heard the front door shut downstairs. He heard Buffy's quiet footsteps ascending the stairs, and quickly she was back in the bedroom.
"Dawn was leaving for school," she explained. "I never noticed how loud she is before."
"Your hearing's better now," Spike said sleepily, stifling a yawn. His eyes half closed again as Buffy crawled back into bed. Unthinking, Spike snuggled up next to her. He woke a bit more when he felt her freeze, and backed off.
"Sorry, pet," he said, giving her a few inches of room. She didn't say anything. Spike stayed on his side of the bed hesitantly.
"Did you hold me the whole time?" Buffy asked quietly after a moment.
"Yeah."
She didn't say anything, and after a few seconds Spike gave up and closed his eyes; they had only been asleep for two hours. Several minutes later, his eyes snapped open when he felt her scoot her body back to press against his. She still didn't look at him. He silently marveled at the way her body felt pressed against him.
"Shut up," she added, before he could say anything. Smiling slightly, he did as she asked, and went back to sleep.
At nightfall, Buffy and Spike made their way across town to Giles', making a detour into the cemetery to do a quick sweep. They had left Dawn and Joyce, who had come home after her first trip for work since her surgery, with Xander. Spike had gritted his teeth at the cold way Xander had regarded Buffy, keeping his fantasies of ripping out the whelp's internal organs to himself.
The conversation with Joyce had been much smoother than anyone had anticipated. After giving her the story Spike had come up with, Joyce had seemed slightly stunned at first, but then noted the people in her house.
"Well, obviously, you haven't hurt anyone," she had said matter-of-factly as she bustled about the kitchen, putting dishes away. "I'm just glad you're safe." Buffy gaped at her, then shook her head. Maybe it was the fact that Joyce was so used to Spike, but her mom was being shockingly cavalier about all of this. Buffy had expected screaming and crying, at the very least.
Dragging her thoughts back to the present, Buffy noted the aura of annoyance surrounding Spike. "Relax," she said after several minutes of his silent fuming. "He's right to be cautious."
Spike looked at her in exasperation. "You haven't done anything," he half-exploded, clearly indignant on her behalf. "Not one sodding thing, and he's acting like you've murdered someone's children."
Buffy shook her head, but dropped the subject. She understood Xander's reaction, although she certainly didn't like it. It wasn't as though they had never trusted vampires before, and it almost always blew up in their faces. And to have a vampire as strong as she was, with her additional Slayer powers… she could empathize. She would have been wary, too.
She had made it a point, thus far, to avoid speaking of the previous night. She wasn't sure why she continued to allow Spike to sleep in her bed. She felt safer with him there, she supposed. And although she wasn't prepared to admit it, she was terrified of being left alone—what if she got up and attacked Dawn in the middle of the night? Spike hadn't asked about it, and she sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up. Things had been getting way too awkward recently as it was. She remembered the kiss they had shared—the feeling of his lips on hers, his strong body pressed against her, the way his hands tangled in her hair as he—
Gah! Stop it!
Having walked the cemeteries, the pair headed back toward the main part of town for one last sweep before calling it a night, though it was still early. They headed past the Bronze and, upon detected nothing more unusual than some blonde in an outfit that should have been burned sometime in the 70's, headed for home.
A brunette girl came up to Buffy, headed into the Bronze.
"Have you seen Warren?" she said. Buffy blinked.
"Uh…no," the Slayer replied. The brunette girl looked disheartened, but nodded and strode past Buffy and Spike, making her way into the packed Bronze. Buffy and Spike glanced at each other in confusion before shrugging slightly and continuing on their way back to the Summers residence.
Climbing the stairs silently, Buffy checked in on her mother before heading into her own room. A small smile formed on her face as she saw her mom sleeping soundly—an odd enough sight recently. It seemed she was feeling better; Buffy hoped that the cancer was completely gone now. At least one thing was finally going right.
Buffy hesitated as Spike followed her into the bedroom. It seemed odd to her to tell him to sleep elsewhere, especially considering the last several nights. And he has been a perfect gentleman thus far (an oddity, considering this was Spike.) Gnawing her lip slightly, she glanced at Spike and decided that he could stay in her bed again. She glanced down and noticed her jeans.
"Um… close your eyes," she said, keeping her voice quiet so as to not wake the other residents of the house. Spike looked slightly puzzled, but did as she asked without question. Buffy quickly slid off her jeans, aware that he could hear the zipper, and grabbed her pajama bottoms, yanking them up to her waist. She stripped of her shirt and grabbed a plain black tank top.
"Okay, I'm good," she said, climbing into bed. Spike turned around and got into bed with her. Buffy frowned.
"You know, I think I might have some of Riley's old lounge pants…" she trailed off as she saw the scathing look on Spike's face, now so easy to see in the dark. She had momentarily forgotten how much he despised Riley. "Well, it would be more comfortable than your jeans," she muttered, aware that she was grumbling. She heard him chuckling softly.
"I'm fine, love. They're well broken in. Besides, if I got too uncomfortable, I could just strip down to my boxers—you sleep so heavily you'd never notice," he added cheekily. Buffy felt her face flush at the idea of Spike in her bed wearing just his underwear, though she didn't dwell on why it should bother her.
"I'm not that heavy a sleeper," she mumbled under her breath. Spike chuckled.
"Right. You intentionally talk in your sleep."
Buffy blanched. Oh no. "I so don't talk in my sleep," she argued, slipping back into her Valley-girl way of speaking. Dawn had told her once or twice that she mumbled in her sleep, mostly about vampires and, when she was in high school, Angel. She hadn't thought it was still an issue, though. "What did I say?"
Spike grinned at her obvious discomfort. "I don't think I'm much inclined to tell you," he said, smirking. Buffy scowled at him, punching her pillows into a more comfortable position. Spike lay next to her, and Buffy noticed that he did not scoot closer to her. Good. I have no idea what happened last night, but it is not happening again.
"Night, Buffy," Spike murmured softly. Buffy didn't reply.
Half an hour later, Buffy still had not fallen asleep. Spike's snores permeated the air. Buffy groaned. She was so tired. She listened to his snores for a moment longer, and then scooted closer to him, her back resting against his solid body. Much comfier. She slipped quickly into sleep.
Still unconscious, Spike smiled.
"BUFFY!"
Buffy bolted upright out of a dead sleep, jumping out of it a nanosecond later. It was light outside, probably early morning. Dawns sobbing was very clear. She raced out the bedroom door and downstairs, following the sound of Dawn's gasping cries.
At the bottom of the stairs, she froze, registering Joyce's cold stare as she lay, motionless, on the couch.
