Buffy woke up on the couch. Her first thought was wondering why she was alone. Then she remembered, Angel and Spike had fought for the better part of the evening. She'd left them outside and went back to her movie. She'd set the tape to rewind and fell asleep to the soft whirring sound. If they'd ever came inside, they hadn't woke her.
She didn't hear any arguing, which was a very good sign. Hopefully they'd both crashed somewhere. Maybe Angel had found somewhere else to sleep saving her from having to explain his presence when her mother woke up.
She went upstairs to brush her teeth and fix her hair before she went to her bedroom. Spike was sprawled across her bed looking as though he'd purposefully done his best to take up absolutely all of the available space. Angel was on the floor in the same place he'd spent the night before she even known he was a vampire.
They both looked so at peace while simultaneously looking disturbing due to their lack of breathing. She tiptoed through the room to find her clothes. Feeling uncomfortable about changing in a room full of sleeping vampires, she went back to the bathroom to put them on.
After checking to make sure her bedroom door was shut tight, she went back downstairs for coffee. She'd never been the biggest coffee drinker which was applauded by Giles who had once prepared a long list of mostly heath related reasons for slayers not to drink coffee. Given the night she'd had, she could use a cup or two.
Her dead-undead ex-boyfriend had arrived out of the blue to catch her kissing her current possible-boyfriend/ex-nemesis. Cue wackiness. Of course then they had to go and fight over her and it was clearly less about Buffy and more about their own feelings toward each other. Given the sight of them, they'd worked it out enough to be in the same room without fighting, but not enough to share a bed.
She never really thought about the whole one bed in Angelus's crypt thing. Unless Spike had spent all his time sleeping on the floor, the two of them had shared a bed. Somehow that felt weird. Weirder than dating a vampire and thereby kissing a dead person. Maybe that was just acceptable sire/childe sleeping arrangements. She's shared a bed with her mother more than once and not just when she was younger. When they went on trips they often ended up sharing a bed at motels. Not that they'd gone anywhere in several years. But with vampires, it never seemed to Buffy like a parental thing. It was more like a mentor thing. Wouldn't that be more like sharing a bed with Giles? That was uncomfortable. She didn't want to think about that ever again.
The coffee helped. It was warm and relaxing. She closed her eyes and leaned against the counter. Angel arrived suddenly in the doorway. He probably thought he was being stealthy, but she had always known when he was near.
"Buffy," Angel said softly.
"I hope you got all the fighting out of your system. I'm not really feeling up to it," Buffy told him without opening her eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Enjoying my warm beverage."
"I meant with Spike."
"Yeah, I know. It's not your business."
"It kind of is."
She finally looked at him. "Why? Because we dated? Because you're jealous? Even though you're the one who decided we couldn't make it work and moved to LA just to get away from me."
"Because you're no good for each other."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She'd just wanted to enjoy her coffee and this is what she'd gotten instead. She sighed and put the cup down.
"I mean... Spike is a killer. He's never gonna change. The first time you fight, he'll go right back to the way he was. He'll hurt you. He's not safe. He doesn't have a soul to hold him back."
"I can protect myself." Hadn't Spike said that last night? Was he really so stubborn?
"You're not good for Spike either. He made that pretty obvious last night when he attacked me for standing on your porch. Not to mention, he didn't even notice me standing on the front lawn. He should have heard me coming a mile off. You're going to get him killed."
"Now you're all concerned for Spike's well-being? I thought he was a soulless monster."
"He is, but he's family. I don't want him killing people, but I don't want him being killed either. Not that I'd stop you if it became necessary."
"So, it's okay if I stake Spike but it's not okay if Spike is killed? I just wanna make sure I understand."
Angel rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is, you make him weak. In the end, he'll kill you or someone else will kill him."
"Maybe I'd kill him. Isn't that an option?"
"No. I don't think you could."
"I've staked him before."
"Then you got attached. Or whatever it is that's held you back this long. Three years ago, you would have staked him on the spot. Now, he's one of the gang."
Buffy shook her head. "He's helping. He doesn't kill anymore."
"He could if he wanted to."
"So could I. I could go out and slaughter the town if I wanted to. Spike isn't like you, Angel. You need a soul to tell you what's wrong. Spike doesn't. He knows right from wrong. He knows that he could kill if he wanted to and he knows that there are better ways to live. He doesn't need a soul."
"I hope you're right."
"I know I am."
"You don't know Spike like I do," Angel insisted.
"He's different now."
"Because he drinks bagged blood and holds you at night?" Angel shook his head. "Spike was turned a child. He goes through these phases and eventually he'll get bored playing the anti-hero. Just like he got tired of his railroad spikes phase and his sappy romantic phase and his rock band groupie phase. This will pass too and he'll move on to something more exciting."
Buffy's confidence wavered and she wondered if Angel was right. Maybe this was a passing crush and Spike would get tired and move on to something different.
"Maybe, but for now he is a hero and nothing you say is going to change my mind."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not."
Angel shook his head. "Sorry that I couldn't save you this time."
"The way I see it, you need saving more often than I do."
He smiled. "Guess I do."
"How'd you get back?"
He shrugged. "How do I ever come back from the dead? Usually some unseen mystical force with big plans."
Buffy nodded. "Somebody who wants you to do all the work for them."
"That's the way it goes. Why make a new champion when you can recycle the old ones? They'll turn up eventually expecting me to be all grateful I'm sure."
"Aren't you?"
"Well, I was in hell."
"Several hells in fact."
"What?"
Buffy sat down at the counter with her coffee. Angel sat next to her. "After we took care of Angelus, I started having these nightmares. Really intense ones. sometimes I saw you in hell. I sometimes it was like I was you. I was seeing through your eyes and I could feel everything." She showed him her wrists. The marks had faded but were still somewhat visible.
He held her hands delicately, looking over her wrists. "What happened?"
Buffy shrugged. "The dreams. They started to get more and more intense and then after a particularly nasty one, I woke up with burns around my wrists."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault. Giles said it was because part of your soul was torn and it was left clinging to Angelus. When we staked him, it sort of transplanted into me and Spike."
"Did Spike have the dreams too?"
"Exactly the same. Only he has scars on his back. Like he was beaten."
Angel's brooding face reached his highest degree. "This is all my fault."
Buffy shook her head. "Angel, how can it be your fault?"
"Because of what happened. In LA."
"What did happen in LA?"
"You don't remember."
"I remember we argued and I remember going home. I don't remember much else."
"Angelus, did a memory spell before you left." He finally dropped her hands and wouldn't look at her. "When you got there, you were furious. We both said the worst things we could think of. Things got a little physical. I think it was only natural that we ended up wresting on the floor. We kissed and then..."
"I get the picture."
"Twice."
"Right, got it."
"So about the dreams?"
"Giles said there was a planetary alignment. Your soul got split into multiple hell dimensions. Willow suggested we summon your soul and keep it in a jar."
"Better than me hurting you."
"And Spike."
"You just keep bringing it back to him don't you." Angel sighed.
"You keep trying to forget about him," Buffy countered.
"I'd like to."
"I thought he was family."
Angel laughed softly. "Don't you ever get tired of your family?"
Buffy smiled. "Yeah I guess so."
Spike strode drowsily into the kitchen. His blond hair was tousled from sleep and his clothes were wrinkled where he'd slept in them.
"Talkin' about me?" he asked.
"Only about what a pest you are," Angel said.
"I prefer 'menace'. I smelled coffee."
"It's in the pot," Buffy offered.
Spike poured a cup and stirred in half the sugar bowl before he gulped down half his drink.
"How was the floor?" he asked Angel.
Angel rolled his eyes. "How's your arm?"
Spike flipped him off as he sipped on his coffee.
"Your arm?" Buffy asked Spike. He shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"I nearly tore it off before I got him to calm down," Angel explain.
"Least I wasn't the one with tears in my eyes." Spike smirked.
"You punched me in the throat!"
"Guys! My mother is asleep upstairs. Keep it down," Buffy interrupted.
"Sorry," Angel said.
"Any chance Joyce keeps blood in the pantry? I'm starved," Spike said.
"Sorry. We don't normally host vampires."
"It's gonna be a long day," Spike said looking out the sunny window.
Tara clutched her books to her chest. She'd spent the day in Willow's dorm researching mystical anomalies caused by astronomical events. Tara wasn't as into mental challenges as Willow, but Tara was into Willow so it all worked out. She smiled thinking about Willow's excitement as they'd researched. Each new idea seemed to brighten her whole day. Willow seemed to like knowledge like most people like chocolate.
She was half way to her dorm when she got a chill up her spine. She looked over her shoulder, but saw only empty sidewalk. She turned back around and picked up the pace. Almost there. Just a few more steps and she'd be in the lobby.
She heard a roar behind her and something large came just a little too close. She instinctively ducked and sprinted for the building. It roared again as it chanced after her. She didn't dare to look back until she'd locked the door behind her.
The thing was seven feet tall and covered in brown fur. It could have been a bear except for its long arms and red eyes. It stopped in front of the door considering her through the glass. It backed up a few steps and she prayed it was leaving to find another target. Then it surged forward and barreled right through the door. The crash only hindered it for a second before it was chasing Tara down the hall.
She tripped on the hem of her long skirt and her books skittered across the hall. The thing pounced. Its long claws gashed open her left arm. Its heavy body put too much pressure on her legs.
She had just enough breath to stutter out a spell that was just strong enough to knock the thing off of her. She picked herself up and ran to the janitor's closet.
The blood poured out of her arm too quickly. Dizzily, she found a pile of clean rags and tied one tightly around her arm before she passed out.
