Spike stopped by a local electronic store and picked up some headsets for the Whelp before he headed to work. He had told the younger boy that he could watch his telly when he went to bed, just not to mess with the VCR or his head would be Spike's. It was worth it to see the look of gratitude on his face, even though he had rolled his eyes at the VCR comment.

Xander had calmed down considerably since watching Passions with him and Bit. He had noticed when the door had opened and seen the way Xander had just looked at them, cataloguing and acting like he was an outsider looking in. By the end of the marathon, when Spike had linked their pinkies together, he had looked relaxed, almost sedate—not at all like he had been at the mall when Spike had caught him checking out the bloke in the food court.

He left the headset in the De Soto and parked it in the back alley behind the club he worked at, feeling and hearing the heavy bass of Renegades thumping through the night air. He threw his duster into the trunk. The owner didn't like jackets of any kind to be worn by his staff while on duty, and like hell he was going to leave his pride and joy in the employees' 'lounge.' Once he had secured and locked the De Soto the rest of the way down, he began his trip into the huge club.

"Spike!"

He turned to see Faith stalking towards him, decked in leather pants and some torn tee-shirt. She was smiling widely, giddily. They hadn't really seen much of each other last night, seeing as he was playing bartender. He had only called her to get a few fights broken up and they weren't even good fights. Just a few of the regular poofs getting too handsy with someone else's significant other. They were working front door tonight, thankfully.

Front door usually had a few bigots trying to start something with the Renegades' clientele. Those were always good fights and already he felt an answering tremor of anticipation in reaction to Faith's.

"Front door again tonight. This is the third time this week," she yelled over the din as she caught up with him, slipping her hand into his back pocket as she opened the side entrance to the building. "Wonder what we did to make the boss-man so happy."

Spike shook his head, yelling back, "Tosser's trying to keep us out of the club. Thinks we're too violent to be with the normal poofs and carpetmunchers."

Faith shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me long as I get a few hits in." She smacked a fist into her palm, a small bounce adding to her step. They met up with a few of the other bouncers in the work room, signed in on their timesheet, before heading out to the front door to relieve the other bouncers.

When they had their stations, it was business as usual, stamping hands willy-nilly. Spike knew they let in a few under-aged kids, but seeing as Faith was only about nineteen and the club owner let her drink like a sailor, he didn't see the point in trying to keep all the other teeny-boppers out. If they looked any younger than about seventeen, Spike would check for ID and as long as their pictures look believable he'd stamp their hand too.

Around eleven, the line to the club practically tripled in ten minutes and he and Faith were doing all they could to keep the patrons from getting their knickers in a twist. Was never a good thing keep a queen from her Cosmopolitan or a butch from getting her tequila.

By one it had slowed to a bit of a trickle, and Spike lit up a cigarette, offering one to Faith.

After her first drag, she looked at him curiously, asking, "So, how's having company? They goody-goodies like B?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. They all tie their laces nice and straight."

"That sucks. Even the studly one?" she asked, a leer on her face as she leaned back against the smooth stone behind her. "He seemed pretty all right. Bit jumpy, but…"

He didn't manage to hide his smile very well, but he reasoned that he didn't really have to around this chit. She was like his younger female version all the way down. She didn't talk much about her past, but he could tell that she had come from hard times, done just as much bad shite as he had in her youth, and came to L.A. with the good intentions of turning around. She had had a rough patch there about six months ago, messed up pretty bad when she got in with a black market dealer, but she had turned herself around again. Buffy didn't see it, but Buffy didn't like to see anything that didn't fit into her black and white world.

"Whelp's an all right kind. Jumpy, like y'said. Far in the closet, but s'to be expected."

"Something to do with that nice, shiny cast?" Faith asked, flicking her fag away from her despite the fact that there was an ashtray just beside her.

Spike nodded, considering his own cigarette butt. "I think so. No one's much said anything. Joyce got the call in March that Whelp was in the hospital and kid's father had beaten him senseless. He don't talk about it much, though. Don't talk much at all unless he's dog-tired and annoyed half-blind."

She considered that, took it in. Then, like yesterday at the mall, she said, "He should come out with us sometime. See the nightlife or some shit. Whatever the tourists do when they get to the big city."

He chuckled, somewhat humorlessly. "I'd have to dig Buffy's and Red's claws outta him. The two of 'em seem to think one stiff breeze'll knock him over."

"That's too bad," she said. "Looks like he could use a good unwinding."

Spike nodded, thought back to when they had been watching Passions together with Niblet and Whelp had allowed him to touch him without flinching and pulling away as if burned. He wondered how much of that was comfort with him and how much he would let it continue if he could get his two protectors to realize that he didn't need as much protection as they thought.

A big, black man half-stumbled out of the club, glitter on his eyes and dopey, drunken smile on his face. He copped a feel of Spike as he stumbled onto the street, and proclaimed, "Oh, baby! You wanna come home with me tonight?" A few of his friends came out hot on his heels and helped him keep his balance and hollered apologies and some excuse about bad break-up or something, but they dragged him off.

He and Faith looked at one another, sharing a smile.