The Whelp looked right upset when he came back down the stairs, damp and scrubbing at his hair irately with the towel in his left hand. It took a fair bit of self-control not to smirk and say, 'told you so,' but he supposed that the look must've been on his face because he received a very annoyed glare for his efforts to keep silent. He didn't take it too personally. Poor blighter probably hadn't expected whatever spectacular show Buffy had given him; he hadn't hear much of it, but he had heard elevated voices for a few seconds and knew it had taken all of Watcher's admirable willpower not to go play 'daddy'.

That had probably had something to do with Niblet's well placed ramblings. Every time the old man had even glanced towards the door, she had hopped into some well placed stories, and god help both the Englishmen, about boys. Giles had looked torn between offering sound advice to Dawn about relationship drama at twelve and hopping upstairs to check on his older ducklings. But he had to hand it to the Bit. She was damn good at distraction.

She was writing in her diary when Xander returned downstairs, dressed and ready to meet the world. She just glanced up at him, a question lingering in her sweet blue eyes.

Whelp only detoured to the laundry room to throw his soggy towel in the wash then he was back, still looking irritated but determined. "You guys ready?" he asked.

Bit smiled joyfully, snapping her diary shut and shoving her pen in the spine as she hopped up. "Ready and willing!" she answered, hopping on the balls of her feet as she shifted her gaze towards Spike, who already had his duster over his shoulders.

He gave a short nod. "I just gotta tell Giles, and we're on our way."

That small errand took a few seconds longer than what would be considered normal, but neither he nor Niblet complained, knowing that Giles would be curious about the raised voices.

After they were in the car, Spike made an effort to point out landmarks, not that he thought Whelp would need them, because he definitely didn't plan to get pissed tonight, but just in case, he wanted Xander to know his way back. He knew he fell short a few times, because the young girl in the back seat was going ninety to nothing in the backseat, talking about whatever crossed her mind, but thankfully leaving out any mention of little pissants that may have had their eyes on her.

At Faith's, Xander gave a soft exhale. "You weren't kidding about her living low key, were ya?" he asked looking at the dingy rundown apartment building that Faith called her home.

Spike looked at it through the windshield and gave a shrug. "Believe it or not, s'actually better than her last hovel. Last one was not only depressing but in the immoral side o' town. Wouldn'ta taken Bit or you there if I'd been given a million to do it."

"That's all very sweet and stuff, but you already turned the car off and it's hotter than the hinges of hell in here," Dawn called from the backseat, throwing her door open and ignoring Xander's, "Language!" as the door slammed behind her.

He made to follow her, seeming to realize that it was actually rather oppressive in the De Soto, but Spike stopped him with a brief touch to his thigh. It caused Whelp to flinch, but Spike hoped that it was more to do with the tension the boy accumulated when he was talking to Buffy, rather than him being thrown back to square one.

When he had Xander's shadowed gaze on him, he said, "Whatever Buffy said, don't let it get to ya. Kay, pet? Likely it's more to do with me an' Faith than anythin' else."

He nodded, looked like he may ask a question, but stopped.

Spike gave his leg an innocent rub with his thumb and the boy relaxed somewhat until Niblet tapped against the window with an impatient look on her face.

"Are you coming?" she shouted, her voice distorted by the glass.

He gave Whelp a tiny smirk before pulling his hand away from the boy's thigh and hopping out of the car.

When they came to the door of her apartment, Spike opened the door without knocking, earning an alarmed look from Whelp, although Bit just pranced in with her sleek hair fluttering behind her. The smirk that had been on his face grew as he gestured for Xander to enter before him.

When he was all the way inside, he shut the door with a slam.

It was all anyone could get out, before Faith turned the corner of a little wall separating her room from the rest of the apartment. She held a soda bottle in her hand and a bottle of something that looked like toilet cleaner in her hands and she spoke while reading the back of it. "Hey, just grab yourself a beer. I've got some shit to take care of before I—Oh hey, you didn't say you'd bring an audience," she said as she finally looked up to notice Whelp and Bit.

Spike shrugged, rolling his duster off his shoulders and throwing it over the back of one of her dilapidated chairs. "Didn't know I would be 'til about an hour and half ago."

Faith smiled, looking pleased instead of dangerous, despite the glint in her black eyes. "Well, hot damn! This is some good shit! I haven't seen Dawn in ages, not to mention you brought the eye-candy with you."

At her veracious once-over, Xander shifted a bit, lifting his hand up and smiling a little uncomfortably. Her smile turned intrigued as her gaze went between everyone in the room, but she didn't mention anything that was going on in her little head as she took a seat at her dilapidated table, putting the empty Pepsi bottle and toilet bowl cleaner on the table and grabbing for the aluminum foil that already rested there.

"Like I was saying," she said, as she pulled out a sheet of the foil. "Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I've got a dipshit neighbor to set straight before I join you." She began rolling the silver wrap into little balls, glancing up at them with that same glimmer in her eyes. "Dawn, wanna learn how to make an Amish bomb?"

Niblet's eyes lit up and before Xander could say anything, she exclaimed, "Oh, yeah!"

Whelp whipped his head around so fast, Spike was shocked he didn't get whiplash.

When it looked like the boy was going to make a loud objection, Spike waved at him. "Better she learn from somebody knows what she's doing than some of the hacks at that school o' hers." He gave Whelp's sleeve a resolute tug towards the kitchen area. "C'mon. S'get some drinks set up 'round here."

"Grab me a Pepsi," Bit demanded, her eyes glued to the visual lesson before her.

Spike scoffed. "Pushy little nit!" he muttered even as he hand wrapped around Whelp's bicep to pull him towards the cooler.