Buffy found it was actually sort of fun training the girls with Spike acting as an active participant. The girls fed off their good energy, thrived in particular if either paid one a compliment, and Buffy liked this role- fun, respected General Buffy. Spike was no longer hiding in the shadows, broody and morose. He watched the Potentials closely, learning their strengths and weaknesses, encouraging them on patrol in his own faux mocking way. When the girls were looking- and with their own live romance novel playing out in front of them, they were always looking- Spike tried to play the perfect gentleman.

He was trying to lead by example, keeping his fangs to himself, not taunting his prey, but going right in for the kill, listening to every word of one of her speeches, and following every command of her battle plans. It was infuriating.

For one, and she was loathe to admit it often, but had received much enthusiasm in revealing she found his fangs to be as cute as they were sexy, especially when he was being all playful and growly. Second, Buffy enjoyed the fight, something she learned from Spike, both in fighting against and with him. Third, it benefitted her to have someone whose judgment she trusted implicitly to cut off her tangents and call her into action, and not to mention, she missed their heated banter. It was foreplay for them.

Buffy missed the fierce warrior who always had her back, admired the slayer as much as the woman, but who always pushed her past her comfort zone to be better. It made her heart rate bubble over just thinking about it. But she had a damn happy vamp on her hands, one who was sweet and loving, yet still bordering on happily depraved in their sex life, and she was not about to mess up their little time of bliss throughout so much badness. So while she listened to him lecture the girls on the best way to behead a vampire, sounding too much like a cross between Giles and Willow, Buffy was trying not to frown. Sure, the girls were eating up every word, something they so didn't do for her, but she knew they'd benefit more from his darker, grittier perspective. It gave her an idea.

Leading them in the direction towards home, the girls buzzing with excitement, Spike glowing from when she'd taken his hand, Buffy guided them all unsuspecting towards a crypt she knew held at least one vampire. She had been saving it as a treat just for her and Spike, hoping for a possible nest, or a space to be completely alone, but it was time the Potentials learned, and Spike remembered, a real battle relied solely on instinct with little time to think back on lectures and textbooks.

"Spike?" She pulled back on his hand, watching as the girls walked in front.

"Hm?"

Keeping her voice to a whisper, she said, "I have an idea. More practical, less talky." Spike purred. She smirked. "Sure, that, but I meant for the girls. Right now. There's a crypt up ahead. Vamp inside. I was thinking we could lock them in. "

"I know they're annoying, Luv, but don't you think that's a bit extreme?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "They need real experience, Spike, mommy and daddy can't always have their backs reciting the rule book."

"Is that what you think of us then?"

"What do you say?" she pressed, knowing he was trying to distract her.

"It's your call, Luv. Always is. If you think it's best."

His sigh told her he wasn't entirely convinced and she was wondering if this might finally be the thing he called her on, and if she should let him. The decision was too dire right now though and he didn't continue.

"I do."

He nodded, looking grim. "Lead the way then, Pet."

Gripping his hand a little tighter, she allowed the girls to continue their chattering until she saw the crypt in the distance.

"Hey!"

They all stopped, turning to look at her, on alert and brimming with uncontained energy.

"What was it you said, Spike? That vamps always have their weapons on them?"

"Uh-"

So she was going off script a little, Buffy was feeling a little playful, but she also had a point to prove to all of them.

"When a vampire comes at you, whether you see it or not, most likely, he's got his fangs out and ready. You won't have time to think. Just react."

"But we've already-"

Buffy waved the voice off and gestured to Spike. "Come at me."

"Buffy-"

"What are you? Afraid? The 'Big Bad'? Run at me."

Spike looked as though he were chewing on the inside of his mouth. He leaned his neck to one side and cracked it. "Give a bloke a minute, you-"

"No, don't think. Don't plan. Attack."

His eyes narrowed, telling her he didn't much like the way she was speaking to him like one of the Potentials. She was trying to steer him into their bantering, but he just seemed annoyed. Regardless, he ran at her, face shifting in seconds, lunging, and she splayed him onto his back, straddling his lap.

A chorus of appreciation sounded behind her, but she was focused on the man beneath her. His face was still bumpy, fangs out, breathing heavy, and she wanted nothing more than to reach down and explore the warmth spreading through her. It was only when she shifted her hips slightly, as a promise as to what was to come later, that she elicited a grimace of pain rather than the groan of pleasure she expected.

"Are you alright?"

"That's hot," she heard, maybe Rona.

Yeah, it kinda was, except Spike had gone silent and refused her attempt to look at his ribs. He hadn't seemed to be bothered the past few nights, though she'd been admittedly much gentler in those moments. He did take her hand to get up when she extended it, but didn't quite meet her eyes when she tried to catch his gaze.

"Your turn." They all looked at her expectantly, which was rare. Buffy gestured towards the crypt. "You've seen me and Spike take down the baddies, even been there up close and a little personal, but you've no idea what it feels like, the fear and the adrenaline, how you're going to react to death creeping up on you."

As she spoke, she walked towards them, leading them into the open door of the crypt. They continued to stare, wide-eyed, excited, but with a tremor of fear.

"All you've got are your instincts and your weapons, if you're quick enough to utilize them."

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a stake towards them and shut the door behind them. Turning around to face Spike, she tried to keep the nerves from showing. He wasn't looking at her, hyper-focused on the door and the sounds emitting from it. It really was sweet, how he cared for them, at least for the cause, but as a slayer, you needed tough love. The old Spike harped on her for it constantly.

Back at home, as the girls swarmed the living room, filling in the rest of the group who hadn't participated on their glowing success, Spike remained silent, a frown marring his face. With a sigh, attempting to stay calm, Buffy approached him.

"What's the what?"

"'T's nothing."

"Spike-"

"Can we talk in private? The basement?"

She nodded, wishing they could take advantage of the girls' distraction in a different way, but knowing they were going to have to have this conversation eventually.

"Alright, tough guy. What's-"

"That was dangerous. Unnecessary-"

"We live on a hellmouth that's threatening to collapse within itself. When is it not dangerous?"

"They're young-"

"And troubled and innocent and scared and different and alone and they've got nothing but me and you to defend them, and that's not always going to be the case. We've already lost a few of them, Spike. They're slayers, almost, and they've got a hell of a burden without any of the talent. Yet, they still think they're superheroes. They need to learn, to see, to experience what they're going to face. One fledge is nothing to what's coming. We both know that."

"But-"

"I love you, I hope you know that. I love that you're this sweet, caring guy who doesn't want to see any of his tribe hurt. I love that you see them as your tribe and that you're being careful and kind, but that's not what they need. And it's not what I need in this fight, Spike. I need my equal back, the only one who I know who will have my back no matter what decision I make."

Buffy stopped to take a breath and tried to analyze what he was thinking. Spike looked like he wanted to punch a wall, his ears practically blowing out steam in anger, but it thrilled her.

"He's not-"

"He's you. And so is this souled-version. Why can't I have both?"

Watching closely, Buffy noticed as he balled and unballed his fists, breathed in and out deeply, and stared at a space above her head rather than right at her. She waited for the outburst, wanting anything he could throw at her. Instead, he crossed the room, fumbling through his pile of belongings and yanking on his leather jacket. Smirking, she thought he was putting it on as a peace offering, but he wasn't smiling back at her. Opening her mouth, she heard the door creak open from above.

"Buffy-?"

Giles again, she sighed, thinking that her Watcher needed to work on his timing.

"Yes, Giles?"

"Would you come up here for a second, I have to-"

"I'm actually in the middle of something with Spike right now, so-"

"Quite, but it's important. I thought maybe you'd like to patrol with me tonight. I liked the idea you had, about showing the girls a more practical standpoint."

Buffy made a face at Spike, as if to say, 'told you so,' but he only rolled his eyes and continued to ignore her.

"You know what? I think we're done here, anyways. I'd love to patrol, Giles. A little OG Slayer and Watcher time."

Above, she heard Giles chuckle and shut the door behind him. Things between them had been tense, more distant, even before she admitted her relationship to Spike, and maybe this was one relationship she could mend right now. The stupid, stubborn vampire in front of her wasn't giving her much at the moment, so if she could get out of the house, clear her head, she could come back with a little more patience. He'd benefit from time away from her too, she was sure.

"Spike-"

"Go on then, Slayer. Watcher's waiting."

Spike was fuming. The worst of it was, he knew, deep down, Buffy was right. He'd been acting like a ponce, his soul battering back and forth between being overjoyed by things with Buffy and overwhelmed by guilt with things of the past and not feeling worthy. It was easy to overcome, when she kissed him, snuggled close, or took his hand. It was even easier, working with the girls, ensuring that they learned not only how to fight, but to survive. It was a shame, for them to meet under these circumstances, to have these young girls in such dire conditions. The soul in him was yearning to save lives, not see more destruct, and yet, he had no control over it. Especially with his trigger always a potential threat to any of them. Unnecessary danger just seemed so, unnecessary, but they did need to learn.

And the chit wanted him to wear the jacket again, that symbol of his dark past that he'd thrust aside as a parting of ways. It did make him feel like more of a fighter, give him a bit of confidence, and he hated himself for it. Things had to get shot to hell, as they had been going so well for more than twenty-four hours. Deciding he'd give himself a few more minutes of self-pity, he knew he'd have to man-up when Buffy arrived back from patrol with the Watcher. It was kind of fun messing with the girls, like when they'd taken them to Willy's to take in all the demons crowding the bar.

Settling onto his cot, Spike rummaged around in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes when he heard the door creak open. It wasn't the slight, but persistent footsteps he expected from Dawn, and the lack of giggling alerted him to the fact that it wasn't any of the girls or Andrew coming to bother him. There was a heaviness to them, and he suspected maybe it was the Whelp, wanting to escape to the Bronze for a round of estrogen-free pool for awhile, when he looked up and found the principal staring at him.

The man was cold, but not altogether threatening as he cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak.

"I uh- had something I wanted to show Buffy, something I think is important with the First, but I guess she's gone out with Rupert."

Rupert, Spike wanted to laugh. Of course the two men were chums. Both hated him, for one.

"Won't be long, I'm sure-"

"Yes, and I don't think it's dire necessarily, but I thought maybe, you'd come take a look at it."

Seeing his self-pitying options exploding, Spike sighed and stood up. Maybe Buffy'd see this as Super-Warrior Vampire taking action.

"Alright then. But only because I've got nothing better to do."

He didn't see the principal's eyes glower when he noticed the jacket Spike now donned.

Buffy never ran so fast in her life. Her heart was pounding, her thoughts beating to the sound of 'no no no' as she raced towards Robin's house. She couldn't believe it, not of Giles at the very least, and not of Spike to have fallen for it. They'd set up the both of them, Giles going on and on about the importance of sacrifice in war, of leaders having to make grave decisions on the basis of for the greater good. At first, she'd rolled her eyes and let it flow in one ear and out the other as she focused on the basics of staking a vampire. Most of her thoughts were centered on how she'd make things up to Spike, while still getting her point across, maybe showing him just how much she appreciated him in that jacket. Then she realized what was happening.

The door swung open as she approached the house, but Buffy didn't stop until she had bowled into a solid figure in black. Spike, a little worse than he'd been before with scratches across his face, but very much still undead and standing. He took her breath away, the relief of him.

He mistook her analytical glance over him, checking him over just to be sure her eyes weren't deceiving her, because of course he did.

On the defense, he said, "Didn't kill him, you know. He attacked me. Figured out the trigger, made me go all crazy, but his attempt to make it personal backfired. Made me figure some things out about myself. Well, it's gone anyways. The trigger. The First can't get me, you've got your warrior back, and your boy's still alive. Doesn't mean I won't- If he tries anything again, I'll-"

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Buffy threw herself on him, her mouth finding his and latching on as though it were her lifeboat.

"He's not my boy," she mumbled against his lips.

"Whatzat?" but he hadn't fully stopped kissing her.

She pulled away, but held onto him tightly, murmuring against his shoulder. "He's not my boy. But I am glad you're both still standing. I'm going to need you, in very different ways, if we're going to bring down the First."

"And the Watcher?"

Buffy's eyes turned cold. "I haven't figured out how to handle that one yet. When I found out patrol had been an excuse, I- I didn't have time to process. God, Spike, I thought-"

"'M not." He nuzzled her neck.

Savoring it for a moment, Buffy sighed for what felt like the millionth time.

"I've got to deal with this, but don't- don't go far. I don't want to think of what Giles might do if he sees you walk through the door without me."

A few minutes later, Buffy's heart was still pounding with remembered fear and the knowledge of the loss she could have been enduring, gripping Spike's hand, and wondering how things had gotten so bad between her and Giles that he'd fallen for this half-assed attempt by a desperate vengeance-seeker who couldn't see the bigger cause. She'd made it very clear to Robin how she felt about Spike, both as a lover and as a necessity in the upcoming battle. Having known and loved Giles for so long, she didn't think she'd even have to have this conversation.

"Good thing did come out of this all, Luv."

"Hm? What's that?"

"You've got both now."

Yes, Buffy thought, at least she had that.