Spike watched his mate as she paced. Sometimes it was the simple things that made his unlife bearable. Her blonde hair swinging as she pursued some record for mileage logged in one room was a thing of beauty. He wouldn't write any poetry about it, but the show was so worth it. He'd always fancied birds with darker locks. The contrast between pale skin and raven tresses was so enthralling. Decades of mocking the American golden girls were coming back to kick his arse in the form of his own personal glistening goddess. She spun and launched her hair in a lovely arc. He'd let her work off some of her frustration this way for a bit.

Her pacing was hypnotic. Each stride centered his mind. Each restless pass enthralled him. He was reveling in her energy but it wasn't helping her relax. He could see the tension coiling tighter in her muscles. Despite the obvious advantages to watching her lovely body move, he wanted to shift her focus a bit and help her relax.

The meetings had gone well. There were no hold outs. Her watcher seemed to have recovered his bloody senses. Even the confrontation with Peaches had gone better than expected. He would have preferred a little bloodshed to be honest. Twisting metaphorical knives wasn't quite as satisfying as breaking bones. Hell, driving a railroad Spike through the bastard wouldn't be enough. The bastard would probably enjoy it. She slipped passed him again and pulled his him from his dark thoughts. He took a deep breath. She needed him to focus on the here and now. Watching the great poof walk away with his tail between his legs would just have to be enough.

Still, his little slayer wouldn't stop with the pacing. Her worry kept him thinking. He reviewed their status. The plan was proceeding. Things were good. He smirked. They were actually good. His usual fear of shoes dropping and pixies attacking were absent. There was no reason to be so alamed, but Buffy didn't know how to relax.

"You need to take a breath, Slayer." He sprawled back against the pillows on their bed. "Let your hair down."

"They all want in." She shook her head. "I have to figure this out and keep them safe."

"We're not putting this together to increase your workload, Buffy." Spike grabbed her hand as she passed him. "Slayers don't last long. It's a fact. They fight alone and they die."

"Way to go with the pep talk." Buffy glowered at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"There are facts we face. Don't like 'em, but I need to accept them. Can't fight something if you refuse to know it, Slayer." Spike yanked her down into his lap. "Know your enemy, but know yourself even better. Peaches should have known all about that curse. Think about how different our world would be now if he had faced reality."

"I think I'm better off." Buffy made a big production of shuddering. "Was he always such an ass?"

"I might be a tad biased, Love." Spike chuckled. "Being fledged by the abusive bastard gave me a prospective very few share."

Buffy nodded and leaned toward him with a timid smile. He reached out and snagged her hand; pulling her toward him gently. She curled her body against his as they settled on the bed. Having her in his arms was wonderful. The thrum of sexual awareness took a backseat to the comfort of her presence.

Walsh slammed her fists down on the desk. The idiots straightened slightly, but they were not afraid. She'd been playing the friendly professor a bit too frequently.

"Let me go over this situation one more time for you. A freshman more noted for her fashion sense than her brain is somehow eluding you." She tilted her head. "The government invested quite a lot in training you. It would be a shame if you proved that was a waste. Of course, I need volunteers for special projects. If you don't have her here in forty-eight hours, I'll reassign you."

Walsh flopped into her chair and glared at her desktop. This project had real potential. Hybrids would be more manageable. It came down to the right combinations and the proper breeding stock. She jabbed her finger at her desk phone and depressed the intercom button.

"Has the second team returned yet?" She made no effort to hide the sharp edge of her irritation.

"Yes, ma,am." The annoying young man assigned to guard her office space answered. "Finn just arrived."

"Send him in." She straightened in her chair. No sense in looking weak.

Riley Finn ducked into her office despite the ample headroom. She smiled. The boy had adapted habits from living in an old farmhouse. She could reprogram that eventually, but it held some appeal. It showed how weak the human mind could be.

"Your report?"

"The gas drill revealed no sign of either girl." He stood tall now.

"But..." She waited.

"An old yearbook mentioned ties to Los Angeles." Finn shifted his weight onto his heels when she stood up. "I think they might've gone there together. I compiled a list of other known associates and have dispatched two member teams to investigate."

"Take Forrest and look into the L.A. leads." Walsh nodded her head approvingly. "Good work."

Spike pulled Buffy's sweat dampened body back into his arms and settled her limbs along his. He noticed the rich sent of her blood as it pounded through her veins just beneath his nose. His hunger didn't stir. The wonderful aroma was part of his home.

"I told you this was better than pacing." He whispered against her ear.

"Well, you had to learn something in a hundred plus years." Buffy snickered and pushed back against his chest. "I mean killing things only takes up so much of the time."

"Your such a comedienne, Buffy." He kissed her cheek and tucked her head under his chin. "Get some sleep. I know you living types need it."