Made for fun, not for profit. The Buffyverse belongs to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon, I just like to play there.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Maralexa, Mom8828, Ginar369 and juggling, who are always so kind with their reviews.

"Ideologies separate us.

Dreams and anguish bring us together."

~ Playwright Eugene Ionescu

16 - Misery Loves Company

Willow and Sam had gone to the thrift shop first, to talk while they browsed. They had been going through one of the vintage racks, and Willow was getting ticked off. Even though Sam had been reluctant to admit it, she clearly had some kind of warm fuzzy feelings for Spike.

Willow angrily pushed aside an ugly lime green dress which looked like it belonged at a prom from the 1980s. There was only so much smiling and being understanding that she could do, and this went way beyond the whole 'don't-get-in-the-way-of-your-friend's-happiness-or-judge-them' policy which she tried to live by.

"How else do you explain the cuddling? Or the bed? There was cuddling happening in your bed, Sam! It's Spike we're talking about here. Mr. Bottle-in-face?! He kidnapped me last year and tried to bite me last month, and now… cuddling?! What were you thinking?"

Instead of looking at Willow, Sam frowned at another tragedy in polyester. "At first, it was just… it seemed like the right thing to do, you know? I felt bad for him, and… I mean, you guys don't trust him, he doesn't trust you, and he has info that you guys want, so stopping Giles from treating him like crap just made sense. Plus, he was friendly and polite to me, so I figured he'd talk to me more easily. But then…" she shook her head, and a faint smile started to curl her mouth. "There was flirting, and he was sweet. We just kind of connected." She paused, a dopey smile spreading over her face, and then she gave a wry chuckle. "I wasn't sure about trusting him at first for, well, obvious reasons, so I gave him a few chances, just to see what he'd do. When his leg gave out after dinner and I helped him get to the couch, it was a perfect opportunity for him to get a case of the wandering hands."

Willow's mouth fell open, and she squeaked, appalled. "Sam!"

Sam rolled her eyes, smiling. "I didn't want him to feel me up, I just wanted to see if he was an opportunistic pervert. He didn't try anything, just so you know, and that earned him some trustworthy points."

Willow nodded, still trying to wrap her brain around Sam's reasoning. "I get that, the wanting to help and feeling bad for someone who is going through a hard time. So, are you being nice to him so he'll help us, or do you want to help him because you're letting your, uh, downstairs brain do the thinking?"

"I don't know, okay?" Sam shook her head helplessly. "Maybe its both."

"Sam, he's… are you having a bad-boy phase? Is that what this is?"

"No, Will. I just… I've seen a side of him that's really sweet and surprising. If you saw it too, I know you'd understand why I like him so much."

After half an hour of back and forth, Willow realized that she wasn't going to talk her friend out of anything. Not that she'd ever really been able to. Sam was bright and stubborn, and although she listened to her friends' opinions, she always made up her own mind. Willow used to admire that about her. Now, that confidence scared her. Didn't Sam realize what she was getting herself into?

It was nearly five o'clock now, and they were heading back to Giles' place. Fortunately, he'd let them borrow his little gray tin can of a car for their errands, so they weren't schlepping all the laundry, spell supplies and other shopping on foot. Sam had found a few great things at the thrift shop, and Willow had gotten herself a cute poncho-sweater thing. It had colorful horizontal stripes with bright squiggly lines, neat patterns and fluffy fringe. Yeah, it came down over her elbows and made moving her arms kinda tricky, but it was warm and would be perfect for a patrol-y night out with Buffy.

When they pulled up to the curb outside Giles' place, Xander and Anya were just walking up, and once they parked Xand took the humongous laundry bag out of the back seat for them. Willow grinned at him, holding up two bulging shopping bags. "Thanks, Xand. We've kinda got our hands full, here." Sam climbed out of the driver's side, carrying a paper bag with the words 'Magic Box' on it.

Xander shifted his hold on the bag, slinging the strap over his shoulders so the bag hung messenger-style across his back. "Well ladies, maybe this will teach you to plan ahead with your errands."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Please, Xander. When was the last time you had to go do laundry? The machines are right across from your bed, and as far as I can tell, you haven't bought any new clothes since we met."

Sam grinned, nodding at the ex-demon as she grabbed a smaller laundry bag out of the car. "I was gonna say that. You must be Anya." She adjusted the bags so one of her hands was free for a handshake, and then held it out. "I'm Sam, Xander's cousin. It's good to meet you."

Anya stared at the hand for a moment, then her eyes lit up and she moved forward, smiling and shaking the proffered hand. "Yes, it must be. I'm very interesting."

Willow rolled her eyes and noticed that Xander was looking up at the sky. He frowned, gesturing toward the apartments. "Ladies, this is going much better than I thought it would, but maybe we should get inside. Y'know, sunset. Hellmouth. No Slayer."

Willow couldn't help smiling. He was trying to be practical and protective of his favorite girls. Unnecessary, but sweet. She gave him an affectionate nudge him with her elbow. "Dunno what we'd do without your keen observations, Xand."

He made an exaggeratedly modest face and shrugged, starting to head up the stairs. "What I'm here for."

The girls followed and Anya turned to Sam, all chirpy curiosity. "So, what has he told you about me?"

Sam shrugged. "Just that you're an ex-vengeance demon… and that he's sleeping with you."

"What?!" Anya reached forward and slapped Xander's arm. "So I'm just another conquest, huh? I should have known better. Men are no different now than they were during the crusades."

Willow bit her lip to keep from laughing. Maybe Sam would end this thing with Anya before it got too serious and Xander got hurt. If that happened, she might be willing to keep an open mind about whatever was going on with Spike… or not. Lesser of two evils notwithstanding, she didn't want to let either of her friends set themselves up to be hurt.

"No, Anya, you're not… I didn't say-"

Xander's indignant sputtering was cut off by Sam as they reached the courtyard outside Giles' apartment. "He didn't tell me about the sleeping. It was pretty obvious, though, with how intense he was about wanting me to meet you, and I know he wants me to like you, which means that he really likes you."

"Right," Willow couldn't help chiming in. "It's not like the Cordy thing, where he was sneaking around with her for months and they were making out in closets. He actually takes you out in public. It's a big step, huh, Xand?"

Xander looked at each of them in turn, giving his best wounded puppy-dog face. "Okay, when did this turn into 'gang up on Xander day'?"

Sam chuckled. "Probably when you woke up. You always forget how much I like to bust your chops."

He rolled his eyes. "Silly me, only remembering the good times."

Sam just shrugged. "Probably why I have to remind you."

Willow knocked on the door, shaking her head at the good natured bickering and bantering. It felt kinda like old times, before they knew about the Hellmouth. Before Buffy had come to town and everything had changed. Not that she didn't love Buffy, but sometimes she missed the simpler days when they had been in the dark about the fight between good and evil, and the worst thing she had to worry about was a zit a pop quiz. "Giles, we're back." She smiled and opened the door when Giles called out for them to come in.

Giles stepped out of the hallway. "Did you have a successful outing?"

Sam nodded, moving toward the main table. "We did. Got stuff, cleared the air and washed my clothes. My 'to-do' list is all checked off. How about here? Any excitement?"

Willow put down her bag of thrift store purchases by the coat rack. The other bag had stuff that Sam had picked out, and Willow put that one by the stairs. Sam's bag had much more stuff in it, and Willow wanted to make sure the bags wouldn't get mixed up by mistake.

Giles glanced upstairs, then shook his head. "All quiet. Our, erm, guest hasn't been any trouble, and there hasn't been any movement upstairs, so I would assume that he is still resting in your room-"

Xander cut him off, looking from Sam to Giles and back again, his eyes wide and confused. "Wait, you guys aren't talking about fangless, are you? He's in your room?! And since when is he a 'guest'?" he hooked his fingers into sarcastic air-quotes for the last word. "Guests are people you… well, they're people, so straight off he doesn't qualify, but they're usually not someone who tried to kill your friends a bunch of times."

Sam plopped her laundry bag onto Giles' couch with an irritated-sounding sigh and rounded on her cousin with a scowl. When she spoke, it sounded like she was talking to a very small child. "Xand, Spike made a deal with Giles. As long as Spike holds up his end of the deal and doesn't cause any trouble, Giles won't keep him tied up."

Giles huffed and started to clean his glasses, muttering half to himself, "it was hardly my idea to molly-coddle him…"

Sam narrowed her eyes at Giles. "No, you just expected that he'd want to tell us everything after you left him chained up and bloody on the floor, because that makes sense…" she closed her eyes and shook her head, taking a few breaths before she spoke again. "We don't need to have this argument a third time. All you need to know, Xand, is that Spike won't be trying to hurt any of us. He can't hurt anyone, actually. He's in pretty rough shape, too, so I'm helping him heal and playing referee for now. The sooner you can all learn to get along, the happier I'll be."

Willow frowned, not liking the implications of what she was hearing. Or, actually, of what she wasn't hearing. Sam and Giles clearly weren't seeing things the same way, but that wasn't the real issue. Sam hadn't lied, exactly, but she wasn't telling the whole truth, either. Sam hadn't mentioned how much she cared about Spike, which, okay, was probably a good idea, especially considering how freaked Xander already was. They didn't need to put any more fuel on that fire. After all, the truly weird and freaksome image of Spike cuddled up in Sam's bed was still fresh in Willow's mind, and although she was coming to terms with the idea that Sam and the vampire were sort of together, it was a safe bet that if Xander found out about them right now, he'd completely flip and do something stupid. Probably something involving the business end of a stake.

"Uh-huh." Xander crossed his arms, wearing his 'I'm figuring things out' face. "So, when you say you're 'helping him heal', what exactly does that mean?"

Giles had finished cleaning his glasses and moved into the kitchen. "She fixed him breakfast and drew him a bath this morning. It's safe to assume that she didn't bring him up to her bedroom so he could sleep on the floor."

Sam sighed and handed off the bag of spell supplies to Willow with a 'can you believe this?' look, rolling her eyes in a very unhappy way. "Y'know 'she' is standing right here."

Xander shook his head, throwing his arms out and then letting them fall to his sides. "Then why doesn't she know that she's being taken advantage of? Spike was fine the other day, so why does he suddenly need to be tucked up in your bed, being waited on hand and foot? He's an evil, disgusting, soulless thing. He can't even fight, so he's not just a waste of time, he's a waste of space too. I'll bet he's just playing sick, trying to con you into feeling sorry for him so you'll forget about everything evil he's done. You're so smart, so why can't you see what he's doing?"

Sam's eyes narrowed, and Willow felt her shoulders slump. Ooh boy. This was about to get ugly.

Sam spat out, "Oh, the way you've clearly forgotten about the countless thousands of people your new girlfriend killed and maimed when she was a vengeance demon?" This was turning into a real fight, not a friendly debate.

Xander shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable about being the one under scrutiny. "That's different!"

"How? She was a demon for a thousand years, she's got a hell of a lot more blood on her hands than Spike does, and I don't see her showing any remorse for that."

Willow glanced over at Anya, who had seemed distracted until Sam mentioned her.

Anya nodded matter-of-factly. "She has a point, Xander. I brought ruin to the heads of countless men, not just for the sake of vengeance, but to please D'Hoffryn and other lower beings. It was my job, and I did it. Happily. You know I miss it. Most people think vengeance is petty, but its really an important part of the cosmic order, and without it-"

Xander tried to cut her off. "Honey, you're not helping me here."

Sam gestured at Anya and nodded, giving a tight smile. "Thank you." She glared at Xander again, "And is the gang giving you grief for hanging out with her, doing whatever it is the two of you do behind closed doors? No, they aren't, even if they don't get what you see in her. So why don't you just back off? I can tell when someone is faking an injury, and believe me, that's not what's happening."

Anya shrugged. "Shes probably right. Spike had been on the run, just trying to survive before he came here. Vampires can do that, you know, ignore their injuries and go without feeding for a pretty long time when they're trying to get to safety. Now that's he's found shelter here, his body has most likely used up the adrenaline or whatever that was keeping him going, so he'll need rest and plenty of blood to recover from any injuries he picked up along the way. It's a basic vampire survival method. Run, then hole up somewhere safe and heal."

Sam made a happy noise, followed by a triumphant 'Aha!' She turned to Xander, grinning. "Told you so." Then she nodded at Anya, still smiling wide. "I like you."

Anya blinked, looking confused. "Why?"

Sam gestured between herself and Xander. "You helped me win an argument. As long as you don't hurt Xander in any way, I think we'll get along just fine. If you do hurt him, though, I'll have to gut you and strangle you with your own intestines."

Anya nodded, taking that in, and then said brightly, "I think we could end of being good friends. You seem to have an excellent grasp of vengeance, and I don't often see that nowadays."

Everyone stared at her for a moment, but it was Willow who found her voice first. "Anya, how do you know so much about vampires?"

Anya shrugged in a way that pretty much said 'duh' and moved to sit on the bench by Giles' breakfast bar. "I was a demon for over a thousand years. I learned a lot about different types of demons. What they do to humans and each other and why, and how humans have tried to fight them."

Giles stepped forward, looking intrigued. "Would… I don't suppose you would be willing to tell me some of what you know? Your knowledge could prove very useful. Particularly now that my resources are... somewhat limited."

Anya rolled her eyes, sighing, and rested her chin in her hand. "Sure, I guess. But not tonight." She reached over and took possessive hold of Xander's hand. "We have plans to copulate."

Willow shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to picture, well, anything about those plans, and judging by the way that Giles was pointedly looking at his shoes, it seemed like he was doing the same thing. "Come on, Sam," she finally managed to say. "Lets get your clothes and stuff upstairs."

Sam nodded. "Sure." She headed for the stairs, grabbing the big laundry bag from Xander on her way over. She didn't say anything to him, just glared and hefted the bag onto her shoulder before starting up the stairs.

Willow had put the spell supplies on Giles' table while Sam and Xander were fighting, so her hands were free to grab the rest of the laundry, as well as Sam's bag of thrift store stuff, and then she followed Sam upstairs. When she got to the upstairs hall, Sam was standing outside Giles' guest room with her hand poised to knock.

She noticed Willow's strained expression and forced a smile. "So, that was the opposite of fun."

Willow sighed, trying to shake off the unpleasantness from downstairs. "Yeah. What is it with the Harris family and falling for demons?"

Sam just shrugged. "No idea, but it isn't a pattern with me. And I'm a pretty darn good judge of character."

Willow shifted uneasily. She didn't want to poke at Sam until they'd both had time to calm down from the fight with Xander, but she couldn't just pretend that she wasn't worried. "Maybe this time you're wrong."

Sam flashed Willow a wry grin. "Well, there's a first time for everything." The grin faded and she bit her lip nervously. "Could you try to keep an open mind? I get that you don't like the idea of me and Spike being all snuggly, but could you keep any judgmental comments to yourself for a while? I've had to listen to more than enough of 'em over the past day, and even though we're not really agreeing right now, I do value your opinion."

Willow nodded. It was a simple enough request, and worried as she was, she knew that nagging Sam never accomplished anything. "Sure. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know." Sam smiled and knocked on the door. "Spike?" There was no answer, so she knocked again, shifting the laundry bag between her shoulders. "It's me. Are you awake?"

He answered in a surprisingly subdued voice. "Come on in, pet."

Sam opened the door and stepped in, gesturing behind herself. "Is it okay if Willow stays? We still have a bunch of catching up to do, and I don't want her to leave yet."

Willow couldn't see Sam's face, but the older witch's voice was tense. She had a hunch that Sam wanted her to stay not just so they could catch up, but so that Willow could see this supposedly sweet side of William the Bloody.

Spike regarded Willow thoughtfully for a few seconds, then gave a shrug. "Yeah, guess so."

Sam put her laundry down in front of the dresser and then moved to sit on the bed.

Willow stayed just inside the doorway and fidgeted slightly, not sure what to do what herself. The last time, actually, the only times she'd been alone in a bedroom with Spike, he'd tried to kill her. One of those times had been last year when he was heartbroken and on a bender, and he had kidnapped her so she could cast a love spell on Drusilla which would convince the mad vampire to be his lover again. The other time was when he'd had trouble 'performing' so she wasn't exactly eager to get comfy. Being comfy in the same room with Spike wasn't something that was likely to happen any time soon.

Especially if that room had a bed in it.

Thinking back on it, when he'd been crazed, drunk and heartbroken, he hadn't actually hurt her. He'd hit Xander over the head with a microscope and threatened to kill him if Willow didn't do as he wanted, but he hadn't hurt her aside from grabbing her arm and scaring her half out of her mind. That bottle-in-face thing had terrified her, but looking back on it now, he could have done a whole hell of a lot worse than just threaten her. It was weird, realizing that. He hadn't killed her because he had needed her, but there were plenty of other ways he could have hurt her. Ways she really, really didn't want to think about just now. Except he hadn't hurt her.

After making sure that she was properly scared of him, he'd just talked to her. Cried on her shoulder and talked about how Drusilla had cheated on him before she dumped him. When it seemed like he wanted to bite her – and it turned out that, yeah, that's exactly what he'd wanted to do – he backed down as soon as she stood firm and declared that she would help him, but that 'there will be no bottle-in-face, and there will be no having of any kind with me.'

She'd even seen a kind side of him after he'd failed to bite her in the dorms.

"Well, you came looking for Buffy, then settled. I-I... You didn't want to bite me. I just happened to be around."

He'd given her a weird look, so she went on, feeling extra neurotic and self-conscious. "I know I'm not the kind of girl vamps like to sink their teeth into. It's always like, 'ooh, you're like a sister to me,' or, 'oh, you're such a good friend.'"

He'd sat down next to her and they had talked. He'd comforted her when she blamed herself for his inability to bite, telling her that her self-loathing was nonsense and she was plenty desirable, and then somehow it felt like they were old friends or something, talking about old times, as crazy as that sounded, since the memory lane they were walking down happened to be Drunken Kidnap Avenue.

"Remember last year, you had on that... Fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath?" He'd given her a knowing look, and she remembered that she'd smiled. A genuine smile. While talking with a guy who had just tried to kill her about the last time he had almost killed her. And it wasn't weird or tense… which made it all so much weirder.

Since he'd helped her feel better, she had wanted to do the same for him, so she had tried to cheer him up. "You know, this doesn't make you any less terrifying."

It had been part of yet another surreal night, and she hadn't given it much thought until now, but maybe that was the side of him which Sam found so appealing.

After a few moments of hesitation, Willow put her bags down in front of the dresser and stepped over to the chair between Sam's bed and the window. It was a pretty comfy chair and she had a clear path to the door from it, so if things got too wiggy in the room she could just say that she had a paper due and bolt for the hallway.

Sam looked Spike over, smiling a little. "Have you been awake long?"

He huffed and sat up, nodding towards the hallway. "Hard to sleep through the bleeding ruckus downstairs." He shrugged, seeming oddly small against the pillows and almost… well, if it was anyone else, Willow would have thought he looked anxious. Of course, that really didn't fit with the Spike she remembered.

"Pet, you…" he shook his head slightly, looking towards the window and clenching his jaw. When he turned to Sam again, the intensity in his voice made Willow feel like she was intruding on a private moment. "That rot Harris was saying, you don't believe –"

Sam smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. "What do you think? First off, I know you aren't faking anything to get sympathy. You tried to hide how bad off you were at first, and when you did let me help, I patched you up, remember? Seeing is believing, and I wouldn't be helping you if I thought it wasn't worth doing. Okay, technically you don't have a soul, but plenty of people with souls are still awful, so I'm not sure how much that matters in the grand scheme of things. From what I've seen, you're more amoral than evil, and as for disgusting…" she dropped her eyes to the covers and blushed, mumbling, "you're the exact opposite of gross to look at."

Spike nodded and seemed to relax. "Thanks, luv."

Willow sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know why Xander was being such an ass. It's not like he can talk, since he's dating little miss demon."

Spike sat back against the headboard and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Glass houses, huh, Red?"

She gave him an uneasy smile. "Exactly. We've all dated or at least had the hots for demons… Xander more than the rest of us. Mummy girl, praying mantis lady, Cordelia. He's the last one who should be judgmental."

Spike looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled. It wasn't the cocky, self-assured grin she was used to seeing on his face. It was actually a... nice smile. "I'm glad I didn't bite you, Red."

Willow gave him an incredulous look. Well, that had come out of nowhere. "What?"

"I mean," he went on, stumbling slightly over his words, "I'm not glad I can't bite anymore, 'cause that's bloody inconvenient an' I'm not 'xactly a fan of starvin' or beggin' for handouts, but I am glad I didn't try to bite you until after those commando wankers did whatever it was they did to me. I don't know anyone else who would'a actually tried to make me feel better bout… 'cept maybe Sam, an' I've gotta feelin' that she wouldn't take too kindly to me doin' to her what I did to you…"

Sam shook her head. "No, I really wouldn't have been all nice and understanding about the attempted murder."

He shrugged. "So yeah. Can't think of anyone else who'd comfort the vamp who charged into 'er room an' tried to kill 'er."

Willow blushed bright pink. "I was only… yeah, you scared me, but you didn't hurt me, and since I was okay and you were so upset... I had to say something to make you feel better."

Spike shook his head, getting annoyed again. "That's what I'm getting' at. You've got a big heart, Red, an' for dog-boy to have left you the way he did… I'm not sayin' you're better off wi'out him, but he had someone who loved him as much as you do… he shouldn't have cheated on you, let alone done it twice. I know how bloody awful that feels, to love someone an' then find out they've been messin' around on you. An' then leavin' town like that, so's you didn't even have the chance to give 'im both barrels – which you had every bloody right to do – that mongrel doesn't deserve you. I say you shouldn't wait around for the furry sod. Find someone who'll make you happy an' treat you right. Don't settle for less."

Everyone had told her it would take time before she felt better, but no one had said anything about it being okay to be pissed off at Oz, and hearing it felt good, even if it was coming from Spike. She smiled at him, and it felt genuine. "Thanks."

Sam was looking back and forth between them both, but she had to twist awkwardly to do it, so after a moment's deliberation Willow left her chair and sat on the foot of the bed, as close to the door and as far away from Spike's feet as she could manage.

Sam gave her a grateful look, and Spike watched her warily as she sat down. After a moment, he gestured at the shopping bag. "So, what did you birds get out at the shops?"

Sam grinned. "I'm glad you asked." She got the shopping bag and proudly set it down on the bed, giving Willow a conspiratorial wink as she started to unpack her purchases. "The store has this section where the clothes are all a dollar for a pound. There's no real system, just a big area of raised floor with messy piles of shirts and stuff, but I've dug out some pretty cool things there."

One by one, she pulled out a dark bluey-gray t-shirt, a dark red long sleeve pullover, and a dark denim jacket which had been beaten halfway to hell.

Spike gave the growing pile a skeptical look. "This lot was on the floor of the shop?"

Sam rolled her eyes, taking out a pair of stonewashed jeans. "That's why I ran it all through the wash after I bought it. Oh, and since your clothes were dirty too, I grabbed 'em from the bathroom floor, put them in the same load and ran all of it through two wash cycles. Now, I didn't really need to get any clothes for myself, but I know someone else who has a severely limited wardrobe at the moment, so I may have gone a little overboard."

Willow shook her head, watching as Sam put a greeny-gray button down shirt and an oversized fuzzy teal pullover next to the rest of her stuff. Just how much stuff had she bought for Spike, anyway? She nodded. "Definitely overboard."

They hadn't stuck together at the store the whole time. During one of their conversations Willow had gotten frustrated and had retreated to an area of Disco-era clothes to calm down. When she met up with Sam again, it was outside the store and Sam had already paid for her stuff, so this was the first time Willow was seeing any of it. Actually, she had seen the fuzzy pullover when they were at the laundromat. Sam had put it on when it was fresh out of the dryer and still warm. Willow had just assumed that Sam had bought it for herself, since it was one of Sam's favorite colors. Of course, now that she thought about it, the pullover was much too big for Sam.

After taking out Spike's distinctive black t-shirt, red silk over shirt and faded black jeans, all of which now had arrow holes in them, the last things out of the bag were a black t-shirt with a 'Ramones' logo and a small lumpy package wrapped in newspaper.

Spike pulled the Ramones shirt closer to get a better look at it, then tilted his head to one side and looked at Sam with raised eyebrows. "So, you think I have 'a severely limited wardrobe'?"

Sam gave a tentative smile, fiddling at one of the shirts. "I'd say one outfit is pretty limiting. If you don't like this stuff, I can return it easy enough."

"No, I…" He shook his head, smiling as he sifted through the pile of clothes. "You didn't need to spend money on me, pet."

Sam made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "It only cost fifteen bucks. I'm sure you'll find a way to pay me back."

Spike grinned and his eyes lit up with a lascivious gleam. "I'm sure you're right." Again, Willow felt like she was intruding, but she didn't exactly feel awkward enough to bolt for her escape hatch, either. Spike chuckled. "At least I'm not seein' any silk brocade in this lot."

Sam's smile turned mischievous, but Willow had no idea why. "I looked, but there weren't any good waistcoats, either. Maybe next time. I'll just have to keep searching."

Brocade? Waistcoats? Willow shook her head. She was definitely mising something.

Spike chuckled and reached for the lumpy package. "This for me too?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded, watching eagerly as he started to unwrap it. "I'm pretty sure you'll like it."

The paper fell away, revealing a large orange coffee mug. Well, mug didn't really do it justice. It was more like a soup bowl with a handle fused onto one side as an afterthought. "It holds just under a quart of liquid, so I figure it's kinda the perfect size for you to drink blood out of since it means you won't need to use a bunch of mugs for each meal. Plus, it's yours so Giles won't be cranky about you using his mugs."

Spike just stared at the mug, turning it in his hands.

Sam watched him, and Willow knew she was champing at the bit to hear what he thought of the gift. "So, do you want to give it a test-drive?"

When he looked up, there was a shy smile on his face and he shook his head, looking confused. "Pet, I… why are you so good to me?"

Sam just smiled. "Because I like spoiling you. Plus, this is really more of a favor to myself, since it means I'll only need to wash one mug instead of three or four." Sam shrugged. "Also, it means you owe me, and that means I'll be able to cash in another IOU somewhere down the line. So, dinnertime?"

Spike nodded, handing the mug over and still looking both happy and confused.

"Kay, I'll be right back." She stood up and headed for the door, but then turned and looked from Spike to Willow and back again, narrowing her eyes. "Can I trust you guys to play nice for a couple minutes?"

Willow glanced at Spike and saw that he was looking at her too. An understanding passed between them and she nodded. "We'll be okay."

"Yeah, luv. No need to worry 'bout us."

Sam left the room, and as soon as her footsteps reached the stairs, Willow turned to look at Spike and put on her best resolve face. "Okay, here's the thing. Sam really likes you and I can kinda see why, so I'm not gonna try to get between you guys or mess you up or anything like that, but if you hurt her in any way, I'll stake you."

Spike's eyes widened for a moment, almost looking genuinely worried, but then he shrugged and gave her a nonchalant smirk. "Best get in line behind Rupert and Harris, then. You lot might have to fight over who gets to off me." He frowned to himself, then added quickly, "not that I'm gonna hurt her. I never hurt Dru if I could help it, an' I'm gonna do right by Sam."

She crossed her arms, unconvinced. "What about that whole tying-Dru-up-and-torturing-her-till-she-likes-you-again plan? Buffy told me about that."

He rolled his eyes. "Apples an' oranges, Red. Dru likes bein' tortured, Sam doesn't…" He frowned, half muttering to himself, "far as I know, anyway."

"Well, she's mentioned being into some not exactly main-stream stuff, but she didn't go into specifics and I didn't really want to ask…" Willow trailed off.

His mouth quirked up into a curious smile. "Is that right?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The conversation had officially strayed into surreal territory.

They were left sitting in awkward silence for almost a minute before Sam came back with the mug of warmed plasma.

"I did it the way you like, and wrote down how much of what goes into it for this mug." She handed the mug to him and sat down next to him against the headboard. "I figure you should know how to make it palatable, since you're gonna be setting up your own blood soon as you're back on your feet."

He took a sip, made an appreciative sound, and took another mouthful before answering. "Tasty as ever. An' how soon d'you think that is gonna be?"

Sam let her hand drift down to touch his leg. "Depends how you're feeling, but I'm hoping to at least have my bed back tonight."

He groaned softly. "Pet, not the bleedin' couch again…"

Sam sighed, clearly affected by his pleading tone and puppy-dog eyes, but standing firm nonetheless. "I'm not ready to jump into bed with you, mister. We've been over this. Cuddling with clothes on is one thing, but I'm not ready for more than that yet, and you promised not to rush me."

"Yeah, I did." He let his head tip back to rest against the wall and stared up at the ceiling with a long-suffering expression. "God I hate bein' all respectful and understanding. S'not a bad couch, I'd just rather stay up here with you."

"Finish your dinner." Sam kissed his temple and nudged his arm slightly. "It's much easier to turn you down when you've got blood-breath."

Willow grinned. "Sneaky." She realized that she hadn't needed to stop herself from giving Sam judgmental-face for a while now. Did that mean she was getting used to the them-ness of them? It probably did, since she had to admit to herself that they seemed to work together, and Sam definitely brought out the best in him. Also, they were pretty darn cute together. Assuming, of course, neither one of them was playing the other for a fool.

After he finished off the blood, Spike seemed to get drowsy. "Thanks, pet." He fumbled the empty mug into Sam's hands, and she leaned away to put it on the bedside table. When she came back to rest next to him, he was barely upright anymore and he'd turned to lie on his side.

Sam frowned and rubbed his back. "Sweetie, want me and Willow to move our conversation downstairs so you can get some sleep?"

He shook his head against the pillows and blinked up at her. "That's alright, pet. If I can sleep through Harmony nattering and doodling on my back with her lipstick, I can sleep through anything." He let his eyes close and slung his arm across Sam's lap. "'Sides, I like listening to you birds talk. Can tell how much you care 'bout each other, an' it's a nice change, hearin' that."

Willow didn't have to ask what it was a nice change from, since she had a pretty good hunch. After overhearing the fight between Xander and Sam with Giles chiming in, Spike had looked sort of, well, wilted, like a dried up sponge, but after a few minutes of sitting and talking with the two of them, he seemed to have re-flated. It almost made sense, like he was soaking up the friendly vibes in the room somehow.

Sam glanced at Willow as though asking whether it was okay to keep talking in front of Spike, or if they should go somewhere more private. Willow smiled and shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, but I am comfy right here."

Wait. Just wait one minute. Willow's eyes went wide as she thought about what she had just said. She'd just agreed with Spike. What? How?

Sam completely missed Willow's panicked and confused expression, busy as she was leaning down to kiss the top of Spike's head. "We'll stay, but if you're having trouble falling asleep, just let me know. Okay?"

"Thanks, luv." Spike let himself slide the rest of the way down until he was lying flat, and sleepily tugged the covers up over himself. Sam started putting his new clothes back into the bag so they wouldn't wind up on the floor. Once that was done, she handed the bag to Willow and nodded towards the chair. Willow understood and she put the bag next to the chair where it would be easy to find but not underfoot

"So, do you wanna hear about some of my adventures in Europe?"

Willow tried to keep a straight face. "Adventures, huh?" She knew the kinds of scrapes that Sam got into.

Sam rolled her eyes, "Okay, misadventures, really. Unless you wanna talk first. How are you doing, after Oz? And no BS about how you're 'fine', because I'm not buying it."

Willow really didn't want to talk about Oz and all of that, because talking made the whole thing real, but she was so tired of pretending to be okay and almost relieved that Sam didn't want her to put on a fake happy face that it all just started tumbling out.

"Everything was okay, or I thought it was, and then all of a sudden it wasn't and I didn't know what changed or if I was just imagining it. Then I found them together and… it was horrible. I've never felt anything like that. It was like I was falling or something, but at the same time, it meant that it wasn't all in my head, and I almost wish it had been, and that I was going crazy, 'cause at least then none of it would be happening. I'd just be some jealous, paranoid girlfriend person who was losing her marbles instead of being the mousey little geek who thought her boyfriend was cheating on her and then walked in on him and the slutty werewolf musician chick waking up naked together after a night of wolfy sex."

Sam nodded. "I get that. You know I like Oz, but after this, if I see him I'm gonna break his nose, just on principle."

Spike growled quietly and mumbled to the covers. "Furry wanker deserves it, an' worse. Remind me never to mess around on you, pet."

Sam chuckled and kissed the top of his head. "Will do. You know, there is one upside. Since Veruca was a girl wolf, it's technically correct to refer to her as a bitch."

It was true, and funny, and Willow felt herself grinning. "Yeah, a big, slutty selfish bitch. It feels good to say that."

Sam patted her knee. "Keeping stuff bottled up when you're hurting isn't healthy. Venting is good, just know your audience and don't overdo it. After a while, venting becomes ranting, and then you're moving into obsession territory. Also not healthy."

Willow let out a breath and filed that info away. She realized that Spike hadn't said anything for a while, and she looked over at him curiously. Except for that one time watching over Angel after he'd been poisoned, she'd never been this close to a mostly-asleep vampire, and it was kind of fascinating. She noticed that as Spike got closer to falling asleep, his breathing gradually became slower and shallower, until eventually it stopped completely.

The girls kept talking for a while, keeping their voices fairly low so they wouldn't wake him. After a few minutes, Willow noticed something strange. Spike was frowning, and then he started to mutter, sounding upset.

"No… don't touch her. No, stop. Sam, run. Get out of here."

Sam stroked his hair, trying to calm him. "I wonder what he's dreaming about."

Spike fisted his hand in the covers, oblivious to Sam's caresses as his nightmare played out. "Bastard… let her go. Sam… I'm coming… No, no…"

Willow shook her head, frowning at the weirdness. What the hell did vampires have nightmares about, anyway?. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it doesn't sound good."

TBC