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

"Sleep is when all the unsorted stuff comes flying out

As from a dustbin upset in a high wind."

~ William Golding

17 – Ever The Dreamer

Spike was surprised to find himself back in the factory. He was in the wheelchair, so he reasoned that he must be reliving a memory from sometime after he had managed to restore Dru to full strength. There was something large and heavy on his legs, and when he looked down he recognized it at once. This was the box containing the Judge's severed head. Reassembling the Judge had been the last of the good times with him and Dru. Granted, being stuck in the wheelchair wasn't fun at all, but at least he'd still had Dru, and they were still happy... until Angelus came back, soul-free, and promptly began to bollox everything up.

"Look what I have for you, ducks."

Instead of deciding to say the words, he only heard himself say them. It was a strange feeling, and he wondered if he was actually reliving the past or if he was just an observer, watching events play out from his original perspective.

Dru grinned in anticipation and moved towards him, gazing hungrily at the box resting on his lap. "Ahh... The best is saved for last."

She took the seven-sided box from Spike and handed it off to two of their taller minions, who carefully seated the box in its place on top of the other boxes which had been assembled in a roughly man-shaped configuration. The last box went where the head belonged, and as soon as it was in place yellow energy crackled out along the seams between all of the boxes, fusing them together into a unified whole. The crackling continued in a y-shape and the front panels of the boxes swung outwards, revealing the Judge. Some blue energy lingered along the areas where he had been hacked limb from limb, and the yellow energy centered around his throat, winking out when his head was re-attached, and as Spike looked on, the damage was repaired. The energy faded, signifying that the Judge was whole once more, and much to Drusilla's delight the hulking demon opened his eyes and drew breath.

"He's perfect, my darling." She stepped back towards Spike and took his hand as they both stared at the new arrival. "Just what I wanted."

Spike felt a rush of pride at having accomplished exactly what his dark goddess had asked of him.

The large, blue demon took a few unsteady steps out of his box and towards them. Dru watched him with rapt attention, a look of wonder on her face. "Goll..."

The Judge quickly got his bearings and pointed a shaky finger at Drusilla. "You!"

Spike rolled his chair forward, positioning himself protectively between the Judge and Dru. Not that there was a whole hell of a lot he could do, seeing as he was stuck in the sodding wheelchair and the Judge was easily seven feet tall, but demons had their own social code, and since he and Dru had put the ruddy big jigsaw back together, Big Blue owed them gratitude and cooperation.

"Ho, ho, ho. What's that, mate?"

"You two stink of humanity. You share affection and jealousy, and this one... her heart is full of kindness and love."

Dru draped her arm around Spike's neck and mock-growled at the Judge, twining her long fingers in Spike's hair. "Grrr. Our new friend is out of sorts. He doesn't like the games we planned for him. Wants to play a game of his own, but it shall make Miss Edith terribly sad."

Spike was confused. This wasn't how it happened. Dru hadn't said any of that the last time, and she wasn't known for being kind, but as he had before, he leaned forward and poked the Judge in the chest, intent on protecting what was his. "Yeah. What of it? Do I have to remind you that we're the ones who brought you here?"

The Judge batted Spike's hand away, growling low in his throat as he moved forward. "I must cleanse this one."

"Now hang on a second," Spike tried to put himself in the Judge's way again, but for some reason the wheels on his chair wouldn't move. He growled at the wheels in annoyance and barked out orders to two of his minions. "Lucius, Matthew, protect her."

When he didn't hear anything other than the Judge's oversized feet clomping across the cement floor he looked up, surprised to find that all of the guests and minions had vanished. He could see part of Dru's skirt out of the corner of his eye. She hadn't moved and he heard her whimpering, which didn't make any sense. Dru wouldn't be afraid of the Judge. He loved her, but he knew that, daft as she was, she wouldn't have the good sense to be wary of Big Blue. He twisted in his chair as far as he could, trying to get a look at what was happening and planning on bellowing at her to move already, but when he saw the tableau laid out before him, his jaw dropped and a wave of ice cold terror swept over him.

Dru wasn't there anymore, and in her place, rooted to the spot in abject fear was Sam.

"NO!" he bellowed, clawing at the wheels to no avail. "Get away from her! Don't touch her! Sam, luv, run! Get out of here!"

She barely had time to shoot a confused, wide-eyed glance at him before the Judge laid his giant blue mitt on her chest and curls of smoke started to rise from her skin. She backed away from his touch fearfully, holding her hands out in a placating way. "Look, I don't understand what's going on here, but I promise, I'm not a threat to you."

Spike growled, shifting to gameface as he frantically worked the levers on his wheelchair, thinking that maybe the brakes had been flipped on by accident. "You bloody bastard! Take me, yeah? Just leave her alone!"

The Judge paid him no mind, a grim smile on his ugly blue face as he pressed his palm against Sam, following her as she tried to back away. She ran out of space after a few steps and bumped up against the long table. Spike could smell her flesh starting to burn and he wasn't at all sure if the tears he suddenly felt pricking at his eyes were because of the billows of smoke pouring off of her or because of her agonized pleading.

"Oh god, why is it so hot? It hurts... No, no! Stop, please make it stop!"

"Let her go!" Spike gave up on trying to move the wheelchair and pitched himself forward onto the floor, pulling himself along with just his arms as his legs dragged uselessly behind him. "Sam... I'm coming..."

He moved along as quickly as he could, but he was still a few feet away when he heard a 'whoomph' of displaced air and looked up to see a rush of flame engulfing Sam. "No, no! Not her!" He crawled faster when she started screaming in pain.

"Spike! No, no, NO! Please no!" her heart-rending screams reached a crescendo just as he wrapped a hand around her ankle.

The flames from her leg set his jacket on fire. Instead of letting go, he used her legs to drag himself upright and sat up, bracing his back against part of the table and wrapping both arms around her knees. He could feel the flames licking at him hungrily, but he barely spared a thought for that. He'd failed her. The one person in his miserable unlife who had unreservedly returned his affections, and he couldn't protect her.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm so bloody sorry."

"Sweetie, wake up."

Someone was shaking his shoulder.

"Spike, c'mon. Wake up. You're having a nightmare."

He recognized the voice as Sam's and his eyes flew open. She was sitting next to him on the bed, looking worried. Unharmed and obviously not on fire, but very worried.

"Sam?"

She smiled at him and the hand that had been shaking his shoulder moved over to play through his hair. "Yeah, sleepy head. I'm right here."

He blinked away the last of the cobwebs from his dream and pulled her down into a fierce hug, smushing his face against her chest. "You were..." His face screwed up in pain and he shook his head, trailing off. It had been bad enough to see – and smell – her being on fire in a dream. He didn't want to say it aloud, because that would just make it more... real somehow.

Sam's arms came up around him and she ran a hand over his back, gently soothing him. "Hey, it's alright now. It's okay. You're okay. It was just a nightmare." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and he held her a bit tighter, ashamed of himself for being so damnably needy and grateful that she didn't seem to mind or even care about how pathetic he was being just then. "You're safe."

A soft hand touched his arm, followed by a hesitant question. "Uh, Spike?" The voice belonged to Willow, and Spike remembered that she and Sam had been chatting when he drifted off. "We heard you talking in your sleep."

"Oh. Erm..." He frowned self-consciously into Sam's chest, not wanting to move from the warm and soft embrace. His eyes darted over to look at Willow. "What did I say?"

Willow shifted slightly on the bed, and he could smell her nervous sweat. "Um, some stuff about someone trying to hurt Sam. You told her to run, and you kept telling someone to let her go, and then you just kept saying 'no' a whole lot." She gave his arm another quick tap and he looked over at her again. "You sounded freaked. What was it?"

Willow's confused tone and the worry on her face chipped away at his resolve to not talk about his dream. "The Judge. He..." Spike swallowed hard and pressed his head into Sam again, tightening his hold on her waist. "He killed you, Sam. Sensed your humanity an' went right for you. I tried to stop 'im, but the bloody wheelchair wouldn't move an' I couldn't get to you in time." He sighed, rubbing his cheek against the front of her shirt, trying to reassure himself that she was really there. "By the time I reached you, you were on fire and I caught on fire too. We were burnin' up together when you woke me."

"Oh honey," Sam kissed his hair again and gave him a short squeeze, resting her cheek on top of his head afterwards. "I don't have the words for how much that sucks."

"Damn, Spike."

He looked up to see a shock-faced Willow shaking her head at him, and he wondered what he could have possibly done to displease her.

Does Red think that me having a nightmare that something happened to Sam counts as hurting her? I can't tell if she's hiding a stake anywhere, and there's fuck all I can do about it if she wants to off me…

He was gearing up to be snarky and defensive when she gave his arm another, more sympathetic pat. "That sounds awful. Being that helpless..." She shook her head and blew out a soft breath which sent a few strands of hair flopping out of her face. "I can't even imagine how lousy you must have felt. But, you know, that's never gonna happen, 'cause the Judge? Deadsville."

He blinked at her, a surprised smile blooming on his face. "Yeah? Angel said the slayer killed him, but I trust that poofter about as far as Harris could throw him, an' Dru... she can't always tell what's really happenin' in front of 'er."

Willow smiled brightly. "Oh, he's dead. Really dead. I was there." She mimed hoisting something onto her shoulder, flicking a switch, and losing her balance from the recoil. She even went 'shkush-boom!' by way of making a sound effect. "Buffy used a rocket launcher we got from the army. Got as in stole." She wrinkled up her nose. "The whole mall smelled like evil barbeque afterwards. I helped pick up the pieces. Which we burned later. Again. Just to make sure."

Spike relaxed his hold on Sam's waist slightly and nodded. "Well, that's one beastie down, only a few million left to go, an' I can't fight. Brilliant."

Sam trailed her hand over his back, just barely pressing hard enough for Spike to feel her fingernails through his shirt. "I think that's what the dream was about."

"How's that, luv?"

She smiled, sliding her left hand over from his shoulder to rest under his chin and gently urging him to look up. "Non-psych major here, but I think you're worried about not being able to protect me from demons and other nasties." She ran her thumb over cheek, cupping his chin reassuringly with her other fingers. "The dream wasn't really about the Judge. I think it was more about you being in that wheelchair and feeling helpless."

He let out a tired sigh and felt his shoulders slump. "So... what? I'm sure you don't want to be saddled with a cripple..."

Sam lightly smacked him in the shoulder, making sure that her hit didn't land on one of his arrow wounds. "You're an idiot sometimes, anyone ever tell you that? And you aren't a fricking cripple... you'll be healed up in a few days, so quit it with the self-doubt. Besides," she smiled knowingly. "I can handle myself in a fight. I'm not as strong as Buffy, but I've got lots of tricks up my sleeve and I can hold my own." She played her fingers through his hair, her eyes twinkling with fondness. "You don't need to worry about protecting me. I'm not a danger magnet, and I don't go looking for trouble, but I'm ready when it comes along. Besides, worst case scenario, you can always just pick me up and run like hell."

He laughed at that. Really laughed, head thrown back and everything, and he felt his worry fading away. "Not my style, pet, but if it'll keep you safe I can do a fair impression of Jesse Owens."

"Really? You'd run around in blackface?" She wilted at his incredulous glance and fidgeted nervously, muttering down at her hands. "Sometimes I should really just not talk."

Spike chuckled. "Now I know you're related to Harris."

Sam glowered and gave his shoulder a half-hearted smack. "Yeah, well, Harris-ness aside I'm still looking after you, so maybe you shouldn't trash-talk my cousin so much. When he's being an ass, I'll be the one to set him straight and you'll just have to stay out of it. Okay?"

He gave a reluctant nod, shifting to lean against the pillows so he could see her face better. "A'right, pet. Can't say I'm thrilled 'bout lettin' you fight my battles, though."

Her expression softened and she shook her head. "I'm not trying to..."

Spike rolled his eyes. "What part of 'be quiet and let me handle it' am I missing, then? Unless it means something different here than it does in merry old England."

Sam sighed and started to play her fingers through his hair in a conciliatory way. He wanted to stay annoyed with her, but found himself melting into the soft touches. "I'm not trying to do it like that. Just, if it's you and Xander giving each other a hard time, it'll make you look like a disruptive influence in the group, and Giles will get extra grouchy, which really won't make things any easier for us. But if it's me setting Xander straight, that's pretty much the norm anyway, and he'll end up looking like the one in the wrong."

Willow chuckled. "I guess you finally got around to reading 'The Prince' huh?"

Sam gave a faux-innocent smile and shook her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief even as she continued gently scratching and massaging his scalp. "I don't know what you mean, Miss Rosenberg. Machiavelli can't teach me anything."

He smirked at her cheekiness. "S'pose I know where you stand on the issue of whether its better to be feared than loved, eh pet?" The words came out as more of a drowsy mumble than Spike intended, and he was vaguely aware that his eyes were drifting closed, but he just couldn't be bothered to make himself stay alert. The affectionate way Sam was touching him, combined with his full belly and the lovely warmth which her body heat had brought to the covers, was slowly but surely lulling him into a state of deep relaxation.

Sam shifted closer to him and gave his temple a soft kiss. "Yeah, it's probably easy to figure that out, given the past day. Plus, you know what they say about fear… it leads to anger, which leads to hate, and then either the Dark Side or angry mobs and revolutions." She smoothed the hair behind his ear and he couldn't help sighing. "So, mister, d'you wanna try to get some more sleep?"

He shook his head slightly, grimacing as the sight of Sam burning to death in his nightmare flashed before his mind's eye. "Don' think so."

"You sure, sweetie? What happened to 'I could sleep for a bloody week'?" She did a fair imitation of his accent, then slipped back into her usual voice. "You weren't even out for an hour."

Spike grumbled and tugged the blanket up to cover his shoulder, getting annoyed with her again. He was still knackered and wanted to sleep until the next day, but not if it meant having another dream like the last one, and he didn't exactly want to tell her that, either. "I'm a'right, pet. Quit fussin'. Jus enjoyin' bein' here wi' you birds. An' enjoyin' the bed, a'course."

Sam let out a breathy laugh. "That's because you're tired, silly. Besides, it's not like your nightmare is gonna pick up where it left off. Doesn't work that way. And if you do have another nightmare, I'll wake you up."

Sometimes her uncanny ability to guess what he was thinking was helpful. Now wasn't one of those times. He cracked one eye open and scowled up at her. "Shuddup, Sam."

Her hand dropped to his shoulder and her expression fell into an injured-looking pout. "Hey, I'm just trying to help."

He gave a frustrated sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. Not wanting to be embarrassed was one thing, but he didn't want to push Sam away by acting like a berk, either. "M' sorry, luv. I know you're jus' tryin' ta do right by me, but… S' not like this communicating rubbish comes easy, 'specially with Red here in the audience, since she's already seen me at my bleedin' worst."

Willow's brow furrowed in confusion. "Worst how? I mean, sure, you were extra pale and kinda hobbly when you crashed Thanksgiving, and there was all that smoke coming off you, a-and your eyes were bloodshot…" her doubtless well-intentioned babbling trailed off and she fidgeted nervously as he stared at her in confusion. Why was she trying to be nice to him all of a sudden? Willow looked away for a moment, then she took a deep breath and managed a shaky smile. "Okay, you weren't exactly tip-top, but I'm sure you've been beat up a lot worse than that. I mean, you've been around for decades. You must've, y'know…"

He quirked one eyebrow at her, and drawled, "gotten the ever-loving hell tortured outta me? Had my back broken and been stuck in a bleedin' wheelchair for months? Watched the great poofter shaggin' Dru? Rings a bell."

Red's face brightened with a grin. "See! This isn't even close to any of that."

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "now I feel all better."

A sudden kiss to his ear took him by surprise, and he glanced up to see Sam shaking her head and smiling at him.

"You are such a guy." She kept smiling, which only confused him more, and started gently tugging on his arm. "C'mon."

Spike grumbled, "This is bloody humiliating," but allowed her to pull him closer until his head was resting on her right thigh.

"Hush." She lightly dug her fingertips into the muscles at his temples, making small, slow circles until he all but melted into her hands with a contented sigh. "No it isn't. There's no shame in needing a little TLC. Plus, I like taking care of you, you big jerk, so just shush and let me."

He wanted to come up with a clever reply, but what actually came out was "Mmm.. 'kay, pet." He concentrated for nearly a full minute on saying something cogent, and finally managed, "Keep on this way, an' you're gonna spoil me rotten."

Sam let out a happy chuckle. "That's the plan."

Willow cleared her throat, "Uh, guys, I should probably get going. I'd like to get started on some of my assignments for next week."

Sam shifted slightly and her fingers froze mid-motion. "You sure? I mean, they didn't assign you any projects to do over break, so what gives?" She sounded confused and just a bit unhappy.

Willow nodded resolutely, but she licked her lips nervously before managing a reply. "Yeah. I'm… I like to stay ahead of the syllabus, cuz' that way Scooby stuff and Slayage won't make me fall behind with readings for my classes. It's probably why my GPA didn't take any apocalypse-related nosedives back in high school, cuz research with the gang didn't mean that I needed to put my assignments on the back burner and then try to squeeze them in at the last-minute. Plus, it's gonna be kinda hard to study once Buffy gets back, cuz we're gonna be catching up, and, well…" she trailed off, then seemed to gather her courage and gave both Sam and Spike a shaky smile. "I figure you guys wouldn't hate some privacy."

Spike grinned at that, sliding one of his hands over the calf of Sam's right leg as sensually as he could and giving Willow a suggestive wink before pressing a kiss to the inside of Sam's opposite thigh. "Had a feeling you were the brainy type, Red." Sam made a quiet, happy and dead sexy "Mhmm…' sound at the kiss, her heartbeat quickening slightly and her free leg bending just enough to hold him in place. Well, that was promising. As much as he liked the idea of having Sam all to himself, especially given her reaction just then, he couldn't pass up a chance to make the Slayer's best mate squirm, so he kissed Sam again in a slightly higher spot and got another enthusiastic 'Mmhmm…' from her. The Scoobies were damn well gonna have to get used to the idea that he and Sam were together, and this was as good a time as any to make it crystal clear what the nature of their relationship was and that he wasn't going anywhere. The fact that Willow blushed beet red from the collar of her shirt to the roots of her hair was just icing on the proverbial cake.

Sam took a few careful breaths to steady herself and gave Willow a half-hearted smile. "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you in a day or two. Let me know if there are any spells you want to test-drive, and I'll come running."

Willow glanced at the door as she stood up. Spike could tell that the younger wicca wanted nothing more than to bolt for the hallway, and he guessed that the only reason she was lingering in the room was that she didn't want to upset Sam.

Willow's smile became more forced as she edged towards the hall. "Yeah, if that happens I'll… uh, I'll call you." She paused once she reached the doorway and looked back at them again for a moment before heading for the stairs quickly enough that there was a good chance of her falling ass over teakettle onto the landing.

He settled more comfortably against Sam, moving his head slightly against her hands in a not-so-subtle hint that he wanted the massage to start again. "Well, now that you've got me all to yourself…" Spike trailed off, his happiness replaced by hurt confusion when he felt Sam's leg sliding out from under his head. He propped himself up on his elbows, getting worried when she headed for the door. "Pet?"

She turned, flashed him a quick smile and held up one finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture. "I'll be right back, okay?" She didn't wait for an answer before dashing out into the hall.

He frowned, thinking that it was the bloody opposite of 'okay' for his bird to be leaving him and heading after one of her girly mates with no explanation. Had he done something wrong? Maybe kissing Sam like that in front of Willow had been a bit much for the young Scooby's delicate sensibilities… and there he went again, acting like a needy nancy-boy, assuming that it was his fault she was running off. Sam probably just forgot to tell the chit something about their spells or shopping or some other rubbish.

He heard Sam's footsteps pound down the staircase and catch up with Willow before she reached the ground floor.

"Am I nuts?"

"What?" Willow sounded confused and more than a little guarded. "Nuts? You aren't nuts. Pfft. You've always been a little kooky, but that's part of your charm and in no way do I think you're a crazy person. Nope."

Sam didn't seem to be buying it. "Really? Cuz… with the weirdness and the fleeing you just did… is it because you think I'm nuts?" She took a steadying breath before going on. "Am I nuts for being with him? Or wanting to be with Spike, or… hell, any of it?"

Willow sighed. "I dunno. It… seeing you guys all snuggly was weird, and yeah, I thought it was wrong with a capital 'wruh' when I first saw you two and I wondered what the hell you were thinking and… okay, I might have thought about calling the nice men in white coats to take you to a padded room for, like a second, but—"

Sam groaned and it sounded like she let herself slump against the wall. "So I'm a crazy person. Great. It's not like getting 'what the hell are you thinking' looks from Giles and Xander, Xander of all people calling me stupid wasn't the high-point of my trip so far, but I hoped that you could at least—"

Willow huffed and cut her off. "Not done talking, missy." There was a resolved edge to Red's voice which didn't brook argument or interruption. "Look, I've known Spike longer than you have, but there's a chance you might know him better than I do. I've seen his sweet side before, but that was only after he'd really really scared me, but with you he's just… there's no grr, and only a little dumb macho stuff, and yeah, okay, it's weird, but you guys really seem to work together. I guess what I'm trying to say is, as long as none of that up there was an act, and he really cares that much about you… then you're not crazy for liking him."

"Really?" Sam sounded so hopeful that Spike grimaced. It hurt to know that she wasn't sure about him. "Cuz I'll argue with Giles and Xander and you and anyone who gives me the stink eye and defend why I think he's worth the risk, but that doesn't mean I don't have doubts." Sam let out a bitter chuckle. "I mean, I'm not stupid. Plus, I know his rep, so it's gotta say something about me that I know he's got a big body count and I just don't care." She started to pace, sounding agitated. "That's something I really should care about, right? But I just don't, and I don't know why. The fact that I don't care is what bothers me, not all the dead people. How screwed up is that?"

"You can't help who you fall for, Sam. And I'm saying that as someone who dated a card-carrying member of the American Kennel Club."

Sam grumbled playfully, "Y'know, if you said 'the heart wants what it wants' I would've had to throw a shoe at you or something."

"I mean it. You seem to bring out the best in him, and if you think he's worth the risk, go for it. Just," Willow sighed heavily, "promise me you'll be careful, okay? With all my stuff since Oz left… I don't know if I could deal if something happened to you."

"Check, one careful person coming right up." Sam's tone took on a teasing edge. "So, are you going to be avoid-y or should I call you to let you know how my talisman and potion thingy turned out?"

Willow sighed and laughed a little. "Call me tomorrow. I'll be in my dorm or the library for most of the day, but if I'm out when you call just leave a message."

Willow squeaked and there was a soft thump, followed by a quiet 'whoosh' of air, so Spike guessed that Sam had pulled her friend into a sudden hug. "I love you, Will."

"I love you too."

There was a pause, then Sam said, "Please don't tell Giles or Xander about me and Spike."

"Huh?" Willow sounded as surprised as Spike felt. He sighed, fisting his hands in the covers to try and hold back his hurt frustration. Was he just going to be her dirty little secret, then? That didn't follow, since she'd been all over him in front of Willow, so what the bleedin' hell was she on about?

Sam took an unsteady breath. "They're already wigged about my not treating him like crap. If they find out now about the smoochies, they'll go ballistic and I really don't want to deal with that yet or try to play human shield. I figure if they have a day or two to chill out and get used to him not being chained up, it'll go a lot easier when I do tell them."

"Yeah," Willow sighed. Their voices were further apart now, so he guessed that one of them must have broken the hug. "I get that. Knowing Xand, there's a good chance he'd stake Spike, thinking that he's protecting you by doing it. I figured that was why you didn't say anything about how much you like Spike, uhh, y'know, non-platonic liking, when you guys were yelling at each other downstairs."

"Pretty much." Sam huffed angrily. "I love Xander, but I'd love him more if he didn't have that stupid 'girls don't know how to think straight when they like a guy' thing going on. And you wonder why I hit him upside the head."

Willow chuckled. "Maybe the repeated head trauma is doing Xand more harm than good. You might wanna lay off." She moved one step closer to the sitting room, then stopped. "Oh, and Sam?"

Sam's footsteps had stared moving back upstairs, but now they paused. "Yeah?"

"I don't mind the kissing so much, but, uh…" Willow swallowed nervously. "If you could just ask Spike to not do that in front of me again, with your leg and the kisses, it'd be great."

"Too much?" It sounded like Sam was holding back a laugh.

"Kinda, yeah, but not cuz it's him. I don't wanna see that with any of my friends and whoever they're dating. Makes me feel like I'm spying on private smoochies or something, y'know and 'Peeping Tom' doesn't need to be on my résumé."

Wait, so Red didn't have a problem with him snogging her mate? And the reason she'd bolted was because she'd genuinely wanted to give them privacy, not because the sight of a vampire nibbling on her friend's thigh had appalled or upset her? He shook his head. Well, since it sounded like Red was going to be an ally, he probably shouldn't antagonize her from here on out. Maybe just a bit now and then for a laugh, but not too much.

Sam chuckled. "I'll tell him. But you know that he'll probably just think it's funny that it bugged you."

"Too right it is," he murmured to himself.

Willow groaned. "Vampires." After a few moments one set of footsteps headed down the last few stairs and then moved across the hardwood floor.

"Nuh-uh, sweetie," Sam laughed. "That's a guy thing. Now go study, little miss four-point-oh GPA." Her footsteps came back upstairs and then headed towards the room. Spike watched her step through the doorway, not sure what to expect.

TBC