A/N:My sister and editor, Shannon, swears by chocolate milk as a sovereign hangover remedy. Originally, I'd used my own preference, orange juice. I will defer to her more expert opinion, as I don't drink all that often, personally.:)

Chapter 3
Breakfast In Bath

"Comfy? I'm chained in a bathtub drinking pig's blood from a novelty mug.
Doesn't rate huge in the Zagat's guide"
-Spike, 'Something Blue'

It's going to be a long day, Spike thought to himself, trying to stretch in the confines of the bathtub and failing utterly. It had to be past noon, by his reckoning, and he hadn't tasted a drop of blood yet. On top of which, he was not only chained up again, but had absolutely nothing to do to keep him from boredom.

"Oh, come on, Watcher!" he hollered in the general direction of the living room, "I'll go out of my mind with nothing to do all bloody day! Just turn the telly on!"

"Would you be quiet!" Giles replied, exasperated, as he walked in.

"Turn on the sodding telly, and I'll be quiet. And I don't know why you're bothering with these," he gestured with his shackles, "I can't go anywhere; it's daylight."

"Because we have no way of knowing if you're telling the truth or not. This could all just be an elaborate scheme of some sort on your part."

Spike just looked at him.

"Admittedly, it's not very likely at this point, but we can't rule it out yet. Especially as you've been rather less than forthcoming about what's happened to you."

Spike was spared a reply by the sound of the door opening.

"Willow, is that you?" the Watcher called, and Spike perked up a bit. Maybe he'd have some fun today after all.

"Yeah," came an uncertain reply. Giles went out to greet the witch, and Spike decided to eavesdrop.

"Finally! I thought you said you'd be here yesterday!" He couldn't see the expression, but the Watcher sounded rather impatient with Red. "Did you bring my book back? And the motherwort?"

"Oh, no! And…ow!" Apparently, she'd smacked herself on the head. Probably not the best move for someone with a hangover, Spike mused. "I'm sorry, Giles, I completely forgot," she continued apologetically, "I left them at the dorm."

Spike shook his head in disgust. The silly bint was so accommodating it was nauseating. No wonder they walked all over her like a rug.

Now the bloke was trying to sound understanding, but it came out like a lecture, to Spike's ear at least. "Willow, we've all had to deal with difficult times in our lives, but that doesn't mean we can ignore our other responsibilities, especially when…"

"There was no ignoring!" the witch cried defensively. "There was just a little – forgetting…" Red's voice trailed off as her tone became sheepish again.

And just when she sounded like she might show some backbone, the vampire thought with regret. An inter-Scooby argument would have improved his day considerably.

"More than just a little forgetting, I'd say," Giles replied, disappointment and a touch of anger in his voice, "It's not like you at all."

"I know," she agreed guiltily, "and it's not the only thing either." Spike froze. Was she insane? She'd spoil everything, get him staked! "Schoolwork!" she quickly covered in a slightly panicked voice, "I've… been… forgetting schoolwork, losing my notes, that sort of thing." He relaxed a bit, with a sigh of relief.

There were rapid footsteps down the hall, as if she was trying to escape the conversation before she blurted anything else out. Spike straightened, trying not to look like he'd been listening. Showtime, mate, he reminded himself as Willow's steps slowed, and she reluctantly poked her head in the door.

"Hey, Spike," she ventured cautiously, guilt and fear of ridicule obvious on her face.

"Hey there, pet, how's the noggin?" he replied softly, seeing the Watcher hadn't followed her yet.

"Terrible." She came all the way into the room, encouraged by his response. Spike tried to keep his tone light and sympathetic. He had to play this carefully if he didn't want Willow's guilt chasing her away too soon.

"Drink some chocolate milk, love, best thing for it. The caffeine and alcohol both tend to…"

"…dehydrate you. Duh, I should have remembered that," she finished with chagrin, this time without the head-smack. Then she got very quiet for a moment.

"Spike, we need to talk," she began hesitantly.

He was prepared for this. He might not be much of a planner, but emotions, he knew. This was a perfect chance to redirect the girl's guilt. He looked up at her for a moment, as if searching for the expression he already knew would be there.

"It's okay, I understand," he said with convincing sadness, looking crestfallen and turning away from her a little.

"Understand what?" The slight quaver in her voice showed he'd hit the mark perfectly.

"Last night. Should have know you'd want to pretend it never happened. I mean, someone like you and someone…something like me…" he feigned a sigh, trying to look both hurt and understanding at the same time. It must have worked, because Willow rushed to reassure him.

"No, no, Spike! It's not…well, okay, yes, I thought about it. It's just that I was drunk and didn't really know what I was doing…I really didn't mean to…It was nice and all but … I mean, so soon after…"

"Just leading me on, then?" He scoffed a bit. His tone was artfully casual, as if masking some stronger emotion. "Getting a little of your own back, finally?"

"No! I mean, I didn't think I was…was I?" She looked at him pleadingly, seeking absolution for her actions. It was working. She still felt guilty about her night, but now it was for entirely different reasons.

"It's okay, love, I really do understand," he said with a sad smile. "You're on the rebound, it happens."

"I'm not on the rebound!" she spat. Good one, Spike. Now she's angry.

"Keep your voice down, pet," he whispered quickly, "The Watcher's going to get suspicious." That changed her focus quick enough. She immediately glanced over her shoulder, frightened stiff at the thought.

Willow's voice dropped so low only a vampire like Spike could have heard her, "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

"And get myself staked for my pains? No, thank you. I told you last night, your secrets are safe with me." He gave her a wink and a grin, then changed the topic while he still had the upper hand, "Now why don't you see if there's some fixings for chocolate milk in the fridge, do you a world of good."

"Thanks, Spike," her tone made the word cover many topics. Oddly enough, she looked as if a great weight had been lifted from her mind. Was she actually starting to trust him? Things were going to go much more quickly, if that were the case. He smiled at her departing back.

She paused in the doorway to look back at him. "Speaking of liquids, have you eaten yet?"

"Not as such, no. I think the Slayer's trying to starve me into good behavior. Bad strategy for a vampire, if you ask me."

She evidently agreed with that, as she replied, "I'll get you some blood, then, too."

Spike took another long pull at his straw, finishing off the mug of blood that Willow was holding for him while trying not to look at it at the same time. He would have teased her, usually, but unfortunately, it just didn't fit in his plans. Besides, he figured pig's blood probably wasn't on the list of things to look at while hung over, for a human at least.

"So why are you here, Red, if you're head's as beastly as you say."

"Avoiding Buffy. She got all sanctimonious on me about the drinking. Like she's never done it!" Willow looked extremely disgruntled. "Seems like everybody has advice about how I should be dealing with this. As if it were any of their business!"

"Doesn't surprise me a bit," he snorted. His first instinct last night had been right, he'd decided. Get her depending solely on him for sympathy, instead of her friends, and she'd start looking to him for other things as well.

"Don't worry about her, or the others." He brought his shackles up to view. "I'm here whether I like it or not, so I might as well be here for you," he said flippantly, and she actually managed a short laugh.

The edge of his hunger blunted a bit, he decided to see what else he could pick up from her that would be to his advantage.

"So, how does all this work?" he asked as Willow put down the mug of blood and started in on her own cup.

"How does what work?" Bafflement crossed her face at the question.

"This…" He made a vague gesture that took in Giles' bathroom and beyond, "the whole 'Scooby Gang' bit."

"Why would you want to hear about that?" she said with surprise.

"I'm bored, love. You could recite the Gettysburg Address and it'd be more entertaining than this," he rattled his chains impatiently, "and that chestnut's almost as old as I am. Now answer the question."

"About the Scoobies? Why, you plotting something evil for when you can kill again?" she teased. She was starting to revive now, her mood improving from both the chocolate milk and the attention.

"Precisely, now spill."

His straight-forward reply made her smile a little, but then she paused to think. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be the expert on Slayers, or something?"

"Slayers, sure. I know how to fight them, know what makes them tick. But I never had to muck around with 'slayerettes' before you lot."

"There's not much to tell, really. Xander and I became friends with Buffy when she moved here. When we found out about vampires being real, and everything, we started helping her." She shrugged, like it was the obvious thing for anyone to do.

"Yes, but how?" he asked impatiently. At the very least, if he could get some inside information, it might give him an edge over the Slayer and her pals the next time.

"Oh! Well…" she'd obviously never really thought about it, "Research, mostly. Buffy's not exactly the book type, as you've probably noticed." Spike snorted, but let her continue. "And the more sets of eyes we have looking, the faster we can find stuff."

"That's it?" Spike was incredulous. "You and the Watcher and everyone else just sit around reading old books?"

"No! We do more than that!" Willow was indignant, "I help Giles all the time. I'm totally computer-girl when we need it. I mean, Giles is good with books and stuff, but he wouldn't know a website if it hit him over the head."

Spike snorted. "That's probably about the only thing that hasn't."

Willow opened her mouth to defend Giles, but noticing Spike's look of impatience, she quickly got back on track, instead.

"Giles trains Buffy, of course…or he used to. We help with patrolling…sometimes. We come along for company, at least." She was slowly becoming more and more dispirited by her explanation, but soldiered on anyway. "And I do spells…when they work. And Xander…um…well, he…he goes for doughnuts a lot," she concluded lamely.

"This is the crack team that foils my every plan? I am deeply shamed."

She smacked him. "Oh be quiet! It works a lot better than it sounds, really!"

"Right, you play secretary for the Watcher and play on your computer, and Xander goes for pastries. Sounds like a devastating combination. What does demon girl do, card tricks?"

"I'm not his secretary, Spike." That sounded fairly indignant. He decided to follow up on it. He wondered if she saw what he'd seen so far during his imprisonment here, if it was part of a longer pattern.

"Could have fooled me. Seems like any job he doesn't want, he gives to you."

"Like what?" Her tone was scornful.

"Who did the research on those Indian spirit blokes?"

"Native American. And it was me, but…"

He didn't let her finish. "And who had to get the supplies for this truth spell?"

"Well, I'm always popping into the Magic Box anyway…" she said slowly.

"I'm sure you are," he said dryly.

"Spike! It's not like that!"

He let it go. She'd either make the connections on her own, or she wouldn't. Plus, his mind wasn't fully on the project anymore. He was trying to think back. Something she had said earlier had resonated, somehow. Something crucial. He tried to remember what it was, but it had escaped him. Besides, it was time for something much more important.

"Would you mind putting the telly on for me, love?" he wheedled, putting on the charming smile that tended to make her blush. "'Passions' is on, and I'd hate to miss it."

"I could recite the Gettysburg Address for you instead," she offered impishly, then quickly moved out of his reach as he faked a snatch at her, and went over to turn on the set.

"Minx!" he mock-growled at her, glad she was in a better mood. Another thought occurred to him. "You know, while you're up, I wouldn't say no to a second helping of blood," he said hopefully. She gave him a bit of the hairy-eyebrow, but he just pretended to look wide-eyed and innocent until she broke down, grinning and shaking her head as she went to fetch another mug.

Two pints and an hour of 'Passions' later, Spike was in a much better mood, himself. Willow's thoughtfulness apparently extended beyond just playing 'waitress' and 'remote control' for him. She'd dragged a chair into the bathroom and had sat with him throughout the show. She claimed she didn't want him to be lonely, either. Giles had not approved of the plan.

Spike had been rather put off by the idea, himself, preferring to watch his soaps alone, but he went along with it just because it annoyed the Watcher so much. To his surprise, though, he'd actually found himself enjoying the company. The witch turned out to be more than just smart. She was downright clever, even witty at times. Even more importantly, she'd saved her questions, and most of her comments, for the breaks. He didn't have to end up missing half the show, as he'd feared, just trying to explain it all to her. She hadn't cared too much for some of the characters and plot lines, though, especially when magic was concerned.

Magic! It came flooding back to him, the thing that had caught his attention before. Something this little Sabrina could do that would be much more productive than his original plan of seduction and abandonment. She could probably break this spell, or at least figure out what it was. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Too busy being miserable, you stupid git. Could he get her interested enough in the idea of exploring this spell that she forgot what it was she'd be doing? If he kept her upset with her friends, she might even do it out of sheer spite.

"You know, as long as you're here, you might as well start trying to figure out what those wankers did to me," he mentioned casually.

"And I'd want to do that why?"

"Yes, why would she want to do that, Spike?" Giles chose that moment to enter both the bathroom and the conversation. Spike was hard-pressed not to swear. Once more, he had to think on his feet, metaphorically at least.

"Well, if these commando-types are working the big mojo, you need to know about it, don't you? Especially this particular spell. How strong is it? How long will it last?" he answered smoothly, "At the very least, you need to know which spell books to keep away from me." The smile he gave the Watcher was not a pleasant one.

"You know, he's got a point, Giles," Willow chimed in nervously.

The git just looked at the ceiling and sighed, as if she was being rather dense, "Willow, we don't even know if he's telling the truth or not."

"Right, there just happened to be three blokes in ski masks and fatigues in Willow's dorm that night. Total coincidence," Spike interrupted. But the Watcher continued to look unconvinced. "Well, then just find this spell, and there's your proof, mate."

"Spike, a research project like that could take days, I'm not sure it's the best use of our resources. There are more important matters at hand."

"What could be more important than this?" Spike demanded. He was not going to let this chance slip away from him. "Besides, can't teen witch here just do some sort of magical scan thingy? I thought magic always left traces behind."

Willow jumped at the opportunity, "Ooh, there's this spell I read about – well, trance, really – that this sorcerer used to…"

"A spell?" Giles' tone was sharp. Clearly he did not approve. "I don't think magic is the best thing for you to be working with at the moment. As you said, you're not exactly at your best right now."

"That's not true!" Willow interrupted, beginning to become offended, "I just said I was forgetting a few things, that's all!"

"Willow 'forgetting' something in the middle of a spell could very well prove to be disastrous. It's only natural that your energies would be rather unfocused right now." Giles' tone was patronizing. That'll go over well, thought Spike.

"Suddenly I'm 'unfocused' and incompetent now?" Willow's tone was incredulous.

"I never said that you were incompetent," The Watcher replied, almost as defensive as she was.

Willow's anger was at the boiling point, now, fueled by the underlying grief. "You didn't have to," she spat, "Besides, you're not worried about me anyway, just what I can do. As long as I can still function here in the group, you don't care if I fall apart right outside the door!" Spike was proud of himself. Just a few nudgings, and her emotional state had made her turn on the Watcher in a heartbeat.

"That's not true, Willow," Giles was losing ground quickly, unprepared for such a ferocious backlash from the usually mousy bookworm. "I understand why you would think that, I do…"

"You don't!" She had the bit between her teeth now, and there was no stopping her, "No one understands me! None of you know the first thing about what's best for me!" With that, Willow shoved past a stunned Giles and stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, that was entertaining, at least," Spike said with a smirk, unable to resist needling the other man.

"Oh, shut it, you!" the Watcher snapped, leaving Spike alone with his television shows. His shows, and his thoughts. No one understands her, eh? I bet they don't, thinking they know what's best for her, as usual. No one will let her deal with things her own way. Except me, of course. They never counted on that, I'd wager. He imagined how it would play out, and liked the look of it. Let her deal with it her own way. If she wants to get drunk, I'm all for it. Wants to try a little magic, I'll back her. Whatever it takes. Ice cream, arson, chocolates, tracking down the mutt and ripping his guts out…Well, he couldn't do the last one, not himself. But he'd certainly hold the mongrel down for her, if that was what she wanted.

If he just kept along on this course, she'd be sure to do this little trance-spell for him eventually, maybe more. And when she wasn't crying into her beer, he'd have some rather pleasant company, something that had been in short supply lately. In fact, there wasn't any need to dump the original plan, either. Not entirely. There were some other things that had been in short supply for him, too. With a satisfied smile, he leaned back in the tub to watch 'Days of Our Lives.'