A/N: An update? Oh no it isn't! (Oh yes it is!). Well, apparently panto season is starting early for me. I thank all of my new readers, all of my old readers, if you're still there that is, and NaNoWriMo into pushing me to write a new chapter.

Buffy and co are not mine, title is FOB's

Chapter Eleven: I Don't Care

BPOV

Willow woke me up the next morning, informing me there was a brooding guy with dark hair at the front door for me. I immediately was wide awake, wondering how Angel could've found me. Was he having me followed?

I pulled on my dressing gown over my yummy sushi pyjamas, and went to go face the music. Sure enough, as I pulled open the front door, I was faced with my pouting ex. The expression that at one point I found cute, now made me want to punch him in the face.

"You have five minutes," I informed him.

He immediately began his spiel, he loved me, he missed me, he needed me and Cordelia was just a stupid mistake. I tuned out after the first couple of seconds, there was no point listening to lies. He lost a person he could control. That was what he missed.

"Angel, much as this heartfelt speech," I spat sarcastically, "Is very moving, I'm not interested in fiction. More to the point, I'm actually getting on with my life, and doing things I want to do, not things I have to do. You're not in my life anymore. I don't even forgive you. So goodbye Angel, you and Cordelia deserve each other."

I slammed the door in his face, and marched to my room to punch my pillow, hoping if I got all the anger out on inanimate objects, Willow would not receive my wrath.

My anger soon gave way to tears, and that was how she found me ten minutes later. She held me and told me everything would be alright. Even though her arms and words were comforting, there was only one person I thought could make me feel better.

I picked up my phone, and dialled.

In what seemed like no time at all, there was a loud banging on the front door. Willow went to answer it, knowing as well as I did who was there.

I heard Willow greet the visitor, and show him into my room.

"You came," I sniffled through my tears. Spike gave me a small smile.

"Of course I did, never could let a beautiful lady cry," he replied.

I gestured for him to sit next to me on the bed, and he complied.

"So, care to tell me what's got you all worked up?" he inquired.

I explained what had happened, and by time I was finished, Spike looked murderous.

"How the bloody hell did he know where you live?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"I have no idea, it's really freaked me out to be honest." I replied shakily.

Spike pulled me so my head was on his lap, and he soothingly raked his fingers through my hair.

"Shh…shh," he lulled, "We'll sort it out."

We stayed like that for an hour, talking while he continued to stroke my hair. Soon, I realised I was hungry, and Spike offered to take me out for lunch. I agreed, and he went to sit in the kitchen with Willow while I showered and dressed.

I entered the kitchen to see them talking animatedly about Willow's college courses over coffee. A small pang of jealousy went through me, but I quickly shrugged it off. Logically, I knew Willow wasn't a threat, she was smitten with Tara.

We left Willow and headed to the café we had gone to on my first day at the bookshop. Spike ordered us a stack of pancakes each, smiling when I tried to pay.

"This is about me making you feel better, just enjoy your pancakes and don't worry about anything else," he requested.

I swooned slightly at Spike being his gentleman self. However, it did make it harder for me to stop myself falling for him. We discussed Xander and Anya, and made theories on Tara and Willow's budding relationship. He then excused himself for a few minutes while he made a phone call.

When he came back, he told me I wouldn't have to worry about Angel coming to my door again, and asked me not to argue, or ask what he had done.

We eventually stood up to go, and we walked leisurely back to his place. We spent the rest of the day there, and made carbonara together for dinner. We ate it on his bed, watching TV.

After clearing up, we got back onto the bed with him spooning me, and didn't move until we woke up the next morning, when we were rudely awakened by Spike's alarm.

Spike grumbled, and leant over to turn it off.

"Morning love," he mumbled sleepily.

I looked at him in all his dishevelled glory, and bit back a smile.

"Morning yourself," I replied.

Spike stretched, careful not to hit me in the face.

"Well, I suppose I better get up," he groused, "Anya will kill me if I make her open up again for a while."

We both pulled ourselves out of bed, but before I could even ask if I could clean my teeth, Spike's lips were on mine for a brief kiss.

As he pulled away, he looked thoughtful.

"Hmm, best way to wake up ever," he commented.

"But I have morning breath!" I protested.

"So do I, kitten, but I didn't hear you complaining," Spike pointed out, then stuck out his tongue.

I attempted to throw a pillow at him, but he ducked just in time, and it sailed straight over his head.

As I armed myself with another one, he quickly darted into the bathroom, and locked the door.

"Hey, that's cheating!" I shouted through the wood. Spike simply laughed, and then I heard the shower turn on. My mind was immediately filled with images of a wet naked Spike that wouldn't go away. I felt myself get warm, and desperately tried to think about something else.

Soon, the shower turned off again, and the door opened to reveal a wet Spike in a towel. My jaw hit the floor as my eyes raked over his well-defined torso.

Spike just casually leant against the doorway and smirked.

Meanwhile, my brain was having an internal battle of whether it wanted the towel to fall or not. This was thankfully stopped when Spike got out of the doorway, and I barrelled into the bathroom to shower.

End note: Not entirely what I had planned (Spike in the shower AGAIN certainly wasn't in the original draft), but the fingers type of their own accord! I'd love to know what you think