The only thought Buffy could focus on was that if Xander had called Angel and told him about Spike, she was going to kill him.

Angel peered at her curiously. "Did I come at a bad time? I mean, it's never a good time if I have to ask for help demon hunting, but did I really mess up?"

With an effort, she forced her attention back to him. "No. We were just finishing Thanksgiving dinner." Remembering her manners, she stepped back and opened the door a little wider. "Come in."

He hesitated, not stepping across the threshold. "I've got Wesley with me. He's trying to find a place to park...there he is."

Wesley. The fun just kept coming. Not only did she have to deal with her ex-lover, but her -- not former, more like wannabe -- watcher had to come along to watch. She had been planning on telling Angel about her and Spike...at some point before the next ice age. Just not here, not now and not this way. But with Wesley, who looked far more haggard than she remembered, coming up the walk, there was nothing she could do except wait for the explosion and try to contain the damage. "Angel, there's something I need tell you before we get started."

He looked at her expectantly as he stepped into the hall, but then his eyes momentarily drifted toward the dining room. Recognition took only a moment, his entire face changing. "What is he doing here?"

Before Buffy could say anything, Xander spoke up. "Buffy and Spike are living together. Didn’t she tell you?"

Chaos ensued as everyone began speaking at once, voices climbing in an effort to be heard. Buffy grabbed Angel by the arm and dragged him into the living room, not even pausing to acknowledge Wesley as he came through the front door. "I was going to tell you," she said, wincing at how weak and silly the words sounded.

"Tell me what? That Xander's yanking my chain? Buffy, this is Spike we're talking about. I know he's been of some use...at least, that's what Willow told Cordelia...but the idea of you and him together is ridiculous."

She had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu, as if she'd had this conversation with him before. "Maybe it is, but it's..." Buffy took a deep breath. "Angel, I'm in love with Spike."

There were a hundred things she'd imagined him saying at this moment: words of rage, sadness, horror, argument...even laughter like Giles had broken into last spring. "We've been tangling with some nasties down in Los Angeles," he said calmly, as if she hadn't spoken. "We tracked one of them here and could do with some backup."

Buffy wanted to rage at him, strike, do something that would force him to admit her words caused more reaction than what he showed. Instead, she replied, "Of course. Where do we start?" in a voice that threatened to crack. She'd do what she always did; face the crisis at hand first and deal with her feelings later.

"Not if you're going to drag my girl out for a spot of violence," was Spike's reply. There was tension in his body despite his casual stance.

"Your girl?" The sneer in Angel's voice was impossible to miss and provoked Spike to take an angry step forward.

"Get everyone," Buffy said quickly, hoping to forestall the violence. "It'd probably be best if we only had to go through this once."

Spike looked a bit rebellious, but did as he was bid, disappearing from view. "I don't want him along," Angel said.

"He's part of the team. I go, he goes." Now she remembered where she'd had this conversation before...the last time he'd disapproved of her new boyfriend. Isn't he the one who left me? a voice inside asked. What makes him think he has a say?

She was rewarded by a clenching of his jaw. He remained silent, though, as the others entered, most grabbing seats while Spike and Giles chose to remain standing. Remembering how long-winded Wesley could be, Buffy snagged a chair for herself. The moment she settled, Spike joined her, perching on the arm of the chair and letting his arm snake about her shoulders. The only way he could have been more obvious in marking his territory would have been to lift his leg.

It earned a glare, but then Wesley started, explaining the events in Los Angeles that had brought him and Angel here. Much of it seemed standard: big bad beasties, possible world-ending, need for world saving, splitting the Angel Investigations team with most of them holding the fort while Angel and Wesley headed north. It was a bit of a jolt to realize that many of the names -- Gunn, Fred, Lorne, Connor -- meant nothing to her.

"So you believe it's in Sunnydale in search of this talisman?" Giles asked once Wesley was done.

"According to our research the talisman was buried here some three hundred years ago, part of a cult which worshipped some she-creature which was supposed to arrive from another dimension to bring ultimate bliss."

"And given what we've seen of the Beast we've been following, I somehow doubt his idea of bliss is compatible with ours," Angel added.

"Based on the writings of the Prophet Hyzaria, the talisman is protected in times of danger by a Snarmyn," Wesley continued.

Buffy looked up at Spike just as he looked down at her. "We saw a Snarmyn about three weeks ago," she said.

"No, because we killed it before it killed us," Spike told him.

Angel gave a long-suffering sigh. "Well, that makes everything so much easier. I knew we could count on you."

Spike tensed and Buffy laid a hand on his knee, hoping he wouldn't lunge for Angel's throat. "So we need to locate the Snarmyn's lair. Willow, I hate to ask, but are you up to a locator spell?"

The panicked look in Willow's eyes gave the answer. She looked a bit skittish, as if the various tensions in the room were setting her on edge. "I don't think Willow's quite ready to go back to ad hoc spell casting quite yet," Giles explained gently. "She still needs a touch more work to reach the balance. However, if we can acquire something as an appropriate focus, I might be able to pull it off."

It was a graceful save and Willow instantly looked calmer. That was, until Anya chimed in, "Spike's crypt. That's where you killed it, isn't it? Buffy said the place was destroyed and uninhabitable, which is why she asked Spike to move in here."

Everyone looked at Anya, who didn't seem perturbed in the least. "I'll be happy to help," she said to Giles.

"Thank you. That would be nice," Giles replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

After that, there was little to do but pass out the weapons. Willow and Dawn were delegated to stay by the phone in case of news from LA. "This does not mean I'm doing the dishes," Dawn informed Buffy.

"Fine. I'd be grateful if you could get the leftovers packed up. Spike and I will do the dishes when we get back." Normally she wouldn't have made the concession, but she didn't want to take the time to argue about why Dawn wasn't going to be brought along for this job. It wasn't because Buffy was afraid Dawn might get hurt; she just didn't know how long it would be before the tension between Angel and Spike blew and she'd prefer to have as few people around as possible.

Things remained relatively quiet on the way to Sunnyrest. Buffy had become so used to doing patrols hand in hand with Spike, it took a minute for her to realize the latest source of Angel's irritation. When she let go, feeling a bit self-conscious under the broody glower, the hurt that flashed across Spike's face before he covered it with a mask of cocky confidence, caused an answering ache of surprising strength. Only Xander seemed at ease, clearly enjoying the discomfort of both vampires.

The crypt had remained uninhabited since the night Spike had moved out. He and Buffy had returned a few times, first to dispose of the Snarmyn corpse and then to see if they could dig out any more of his belongings, but otherwise it remained the same disaster area. Angel didn't say a word as he picked his way over the debris, but his look spoke volumes.

"That thing really did a number on this place, Spike," Xander said, the angry, baiting tone missing from his voice for once.

Giles and Anya were already at work, searching for any remaining pieces of the Snarmyn they might use as a focus. Wesley pitched in, though the three met with little success, Buffy and Spike having done a thorough disposal job. Patches of dried blue-green goo still decorated bits of the rubble, however, and Giles at last pronounced that would serve.

"So, what happens once we grab this talisman-thingy?" Buffy asked as Giles and Anya made their preparations. You guys take it back to Los Angeles and destroy it?"

"The best course would be to study the artifact and see if it can be of use."

"Or even why the beast is interested," Angel amended. He cast a sideways glance at Buffy. "I take it things have been quiet up here."

God, she hated this. She could hear the hurt in Angel's voice, see it in the way he looked at her and Spike together. Something inside her still wanted to make that look go away. She couldn't, though; not without hurting Spike.

Both of your vampire boyfriends can't stand the sight of the other. Buffy Summers, this is your life.

"We've had our moments," she said, deciding she wouldn't rise to the bait. "But, no, no new Big Bad."

Several hours later, Buffy wished she hadn't spoken those words. It was a somewhat bruised group that made their way back to Revello Drive, painfully aware that a new Bad was in town. "And just exactly how dead was that Snarmyn?" Xander asked Spike, wincing with each step.

"Shut up, Harris," Spike growled. He sported a lovely black eye, something Angel had managed to "accidentally" give him during the battle in the Snarmyn's nest. It was a lovely companion to the large bruise decorating Angel's jaw, which Spike had also "accidentally" delivered.

"This is serious, Buffy," Angel insisted, continuing the thread he'd been worrying since they'd escaped the Snarmyn's lair. "This new player doesn't seem to be related to our beast, but doesn't mean they aren't. It'd probably be best if we worked together, maintained close contact."

"Isn't it getting late?" Spike asked. "You and Watcher Junior should probably hit the road so you can avoid the early morning sun."

Enough was enough. Buffy stopped halfway up the walk to her house, turning so abruptly that the rest of the group collided with one another in their efforts to stop. "That's it. I've put up with the two of your bickering since Angel got here and I've had enough. It stops now. Spike, Angel and I have a history and I still care for him and probably always will."

She turned to Angel in time to catch the smirk on his face. "Angel, I'm in love with Spike. I know you don't like it, but that's the way it is. Now, will both of you act something resembling your age?"

Giles and Wesley looked at one another. "It's possible," Wesley said.

"We would have to study it," Giles added.

"I would need to check and see if Angel and I are needed back immediately. Otherwise, perhaps it would be to our mutual benefit to delay our departure."

"Oh, we should be so lucky," Spike grumbled under his breath. Buffy did her best to ignore it.

"Let's get everyone inside and you can call." She headed for the door, wondering if she could put the dishes off until after a hot bath.

"If we stay, think you can find a place for us?" Angel asked.

"I think there's a dank corner of the basement we could fit you up with," Spike responded cheerfully.

This time, she couldn't let it pass. "One more word, Spike, and you're going to share the couch with Angel tonight"

Spike shut up, but she saw the hurt flare in his eyes again. At the moment, she was annoyed enough that she didn't care. Turning on her heel, she marched into the house, leaving the others to follow as they would.

***

Wesley leaned toward Giles. "Think we should leave the pair of them to work out their differences?"

Spike was turning a now-murderous gaze on Angel, who looked somewhat pleased at the turn of events. "I don't think we dare," Giles responded.

Perhaps it was because he knew Spike couldn't harm him with the chip. Perhaps it was because he knew Spike. Still, he wasn't quite sure what possessed a middle-aged human to grab an angry vampire by the arm and drag him toward the backyard. He was even less sure why Spike didn't wrench his arm free until they were well away. "If you want to go make a fool of yourself trying to pummel the self-righteous pillock, be my guest," he said as Spike took several steps back toward the front.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Have me piss Buffy off even further -- perhaps enough that she'd throw me out of the house."

Before Giles could either protest or agree, Spike was away, pacing the length of the backyard. "He's always been like this; once he marks someone as his, he's convinced they belong to him forever. He can walk away, but the moment he comes back, he expects them at his beck and call and to hell with everyone else."

A short laugh. "No, she isn't. For one thing, Buffy's sane most of the time. But she still cares about him and he can and will use that."

There was an uncomfortable idea, but one which had crossed Giles' mind from time to time. "I think you're exaggerating Angel's influence."

That caused Spike to stop pacing. "You really think so? She loves me; I don't doubt that. But there is a part of her heart that belongs to him and always will. I've known him too long to discount that."

A strip of light cut across the backyard and both men looked up to find someone had entered the master bedroom, a shadow cast against the curtains. "I know I'm no prize," Spike said, his voice soft, "and you'd probably rather see her with almost any other bloke...except perhaps the Great Poof. But I want to do what's right by Buffy, take care of her as she should be."

All the way across the Atlantic, Giles had tried to decide how best to broach the subject, wondering how he could convince Spike of the necessity of the conversation. Here was a better opening than he could have possibly hoped for...and it couldn't have come at a worst moment. Pulling Spike back here might have prevented an immediate confrontation, but there was no telling if Angel might appear to continue things or when the anger might boil into violence.

At the same time, Giles didn't know when the opportunity might present itself again so easily. "And how do you propose to do such a thing? Certainly not with what Anya's paying you."

"Not even I am that delusional. What else can I do, though? Not really welcome in the demon community 'cause I'm too closely associated with the Slayer. Can't get a job elsewhere because I don't exist in the system. Even if I did, I'm not good for much except translating Latin and Greek and writing bad poetry."

Giles found it strange to hear Spike speak simply and directly. He'd expected evasion and defensiveness, the sly, irritating vampire he was used to. Once again, he was confronted by changes he supposed were due to the soul. "You've given this some thought, I see."

Spike turned away from the house with a shrug. "No reason I shouldn't -- and I have a pretty good idea what her financial situation is. Helped her balance the checkbook last week. She's doing better than she was last year, but there's precious little reserve there. Something big and ugly decides to break a few windows or doors, it won't be fun. That's why I need your help."

"My help? What could I possibly do?"

Spike glanced around as if he feared they might be interrupted. "I need papers," he said, stepping closer. "An identity. If I had that, I could tend bar or something, bring in more money. Need something that'll stand up...that I don't have to pay a small fortune for. You must have connections within the Watchers, know someone who could do the job."

"Do you think I'm going to give up if you say no, tuck my tail between my legs and slink away into the night? If you won't help, I'll find another way; just thought I'd ask since I figured you've got the better connections and you have vested a interest in making certain Buffy's taken care of."

"It could be done," Giles said cautiously, wondering if he was about to make a deal with the devil. "There would be a cost."

Spike's jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded. "So long as your cost isn't me packing up and skipping town."

Giles had to chuckle. "Suggesting that would probably result in Buffy throwing me out of the house and I don't think that would be to her benefit. No, what I was thinking was information. In specific, information regarding your soul."

Hearing no argument, Giles continued. "I don't think you'll find it surprising to learn that word of your rather remarkable feat has spread and there are parties who are interested in finding out how -- and why -- you got your soul."

More silence before Spike spoke. "And for that you'll make certain I have papers."

"Passport, green card, bank account, family history, birth certificate...even a California driver's license. I could easily get the preliminary information from you tomorrow, put things into motion."

He could see that Spike didn't want to trade that information, see the hesitation and wonder if he'd overplayed his hand. Then, Spike looked up to the windows of the room he shared with Buffy. "You've got a deal."

That was it. No negotiation, no attempts to twist a loophole he could wriggle through later. Simple acceptance. Hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, Spike sighed and turned back to Giles, a bit of a smile on his face. "Should go make it up with Buffy. This was...well, it was our first fight. Don't want to go to bed mad."

Spike headed for the house, but paused as he reached the top step of the porch. "And, Rupert...thanks. Means a lot."

Anya opened the door as Spike approached and he slipped past her into the house. She didn't follow, but leaned against the door jamb with her arms folded across her chest, regarding Giles with a looked that seemed to ask if he understood the situation now.

He understood that he didn't and considered telling her so as he decided he'd spent enough time in the November night air. "You're going to help him?" she asked as he made his own way up the porch steps.

No, he wasn't going to tell her. "Anya, for a vengeance demon, you are an incurable romantic."

With that, she headed for the dining room, leaving him to follow so he could deal with Wesley.

***

"I swear, Willow, he drives me nuts sometimes." Buffy paced her bedroom floor, really wishing she had something to hit at the moment. This was not how Thanksgiving was supposed to go.

"Um, are we talking about Spike or Angel this time, because I'm losing track," Willow asked from her place on the bed. When Angel had stepped into the front hall only moments after her and said, "We need to talk," Buffy had reverted to old habits, grabbed Willow and dragged her upstairs as an audience for her rant.

"Spike. I mean, he couldn't have been more obvious if I was a fire hydrant! I think the peroxide got into his brain. God, Angel shows up and all of Spike's worst traits have to come out. And he has to tell me exactly how to run my life -- like he knows."

"Well, I guess he thinks he has an idea since he's living with you."

Buffy stopped and turned, puzzled. "Angel lives in LA, Willow."

"Oh. I thought you were still talking about Spike." Willow sighed. "Look, I know that having two of your three serious boyfriends in the same place is kinda making you wacky, but are you surprised? Those two are oil and water and I don't think anything's ever going to change that. I mean, there were serious issues there before you ever came along."

"Urgh." Buffy flopped back onto the bed. "What am I going to do? If these monsters are related, we're going to have to work together to defeat them. How do I keep Spike and Angel from killing each other...or me from killing them?"

"Angel cares what happens to you. You know that's not going to change."

In times past, those would have been words of comfort. Now, Buffy rolled over onto her stomach. "I'm not doubting he cares about me. He just seems to have a problem with the idea that I might have fallen for someone else."

"I think it's the 'who' you fell for."

"Think so? He acted this way about Riley. Yeah, maybe it's because of Spike, but not all of it. I had to threaten to put both Angel and Riley in the hospital and..."

She broke off as a knock came at the door. In a voice sharper than she would have liked, she told whoever it was to come in, wondering if Angel was going to use this moment to have their "talk." Instead, Spike stepped in, looking repentant, an expression she wasn't used to seeing. The black eye he sported probably helped. "Do you think Buffy and I could have a moment alone, Red?" he asked, never taking his eyes from Buffy.

Willow looked from one to the other, then scooted off the bed. "I'll just see what's happening downstairs."

He shrugged. "It'll heal. Buffy, I..."

He didn't complete the sentence, as if he too didn't know what to say. Then, the words came rushing out in the old familiar manner. "Look, I acted like an ass and I'm sorry. Saw Angel and got all pissed off, started behaving like a bloody cave man. Surprise you didn't whack me up one side the head."

"Looks like someone took care of that for me," she said, feeling the ice thaw just a touch.

"Peaches' aim hasn't gotten worse over the years. Lucky me." He pushed away from where he leaned against the door and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a hand across her hair. "I am sorry. I know this is not how you envisioned this day."

"Am I foolish to think we could have something normal for once?"

She meant it as a rhetorical question, but she could see Spike considering an answer. "Not foolish to want it, perhaps, but you and I both know the odds are pretty slim of it actually coming off. One, on a Hellmouth. Two, Slayer who is called to help save the world at personally inopportune moments. Kind of stacks the deck. Damn good meal, though."

Buffy couldn't help smiling, which provoked an answering grin from Spike. "Knew I could make you smile."

"Doesn't mean you're not in trouble," she warned, knowing she didn't sound stern at all.

"Oh, I'm counting on being in trouble."

He leaned in to kiss her, but a knock at the door broke the mood. "Buffy?" came Dawn's voice. "They'd like to see you downstairs."

Reluctantly, she answered that she'd be right down. "Wesley's probably called LA by now."

He didn't need to say a word for her to know Spike hoped business would require Wesley and Angel to leave immediately; it was written plain on his face. "If they stay..." she began.

"I'll do my best to be a good boy," he promised, but she could hear the unhappiness in his voice. This wasn't settled between them and she didn't know how to make it right. "Let's get some ice on that eye," she told him, leaning forward to brush her lips across his.

They descended together to find Wesley and Angel in the front hall. "The beast we were search for apparently never left Los Angeles," Wesley said. "My source indicated he's pursuing endeavors completely unrelated to the talisman we thought he was after."

Angel looked decidedly unhappy. "Her visions have always been right before."

"I'm not putting the blame on Cordelia, but it is a little worrisome."

Buffy so did not want to get into a discussion of Cordelia and her visions, especially since Wesley and Angel seemed to have differing opinions. To make matters worse, she could see Xander shaking his head where he stood to one side. He'd always been terribly skeptical of reports of Cordelia's seer abilities and she could tell he was itching to comment on it to Angel.

No, Spike wasn't the only one with issues there. "So you're not staying?"

Angel shook his head. "We need to get back, see what's happening...assuming Wesley's 'source' is correct."

It was impossible to miss the air quotes around the word or the annoyance that flashed across Wesley's face. "I don't think Lilah is steering us wrong in this instance. She seems as interested in stopping this thing as we are."

"And I can't begin to tell you what a comfort I find that. Look, we've got to get going if we're going to make it back to LA before sunrise. Buffy, walk me out to the car?"

It was the least she could do; besides, Buffy had a feeling Angel wasn't going to leave until he had his say. With any luck, he'd make it quick.

"I know you think I'm out of line," he said the moment they'd stepped out onto the front porch and the door had closed behind them, "but I've known Spike a lot longer than you and this is not a good idea."

"He's changed," she said, hugging herself against the cool of the night air.

"Of course he's changed. I watched him make himself over for Drusilla, remember? He's obsessed with you, he's going to make sure he presents himself in the best light possible."

"No, he's really changed." She took a deep breath, knowing this was not going to be fun. "He got his soul back."

Both Angel and Wesley stopped and turned to stare at her. "What powerful witch did he manage to annoy?' Angel asked. "And if he did something that nasty, why didn't you stake him?"

Buffy shook her head. "It's not a curse. He went to Africa and he won it...for me."

"I've heard rumors such a thing could be done," Wesley said, "but I always thought they were legend."

Angel was still staring at her. "He can't have..."

"He did."

"No." Angel turned away, covering the short distance down the walk to the car. "Demons don't want anything to do with the human soul. Believe me, I know. He's got to be lying."

"Why? Because if he isn't, maybe it's okay that I'm with him and that would upset everyone's neat little world? Or maybe it's because the demon loved me enough to do it and you..."

She clapped her hands over her mouth before she could finish the sentence. "Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

His back was stiff. "I know what you meant, Buffy. I'm sorry Angelus wasn't more cooperative." He turned around to face her. "It still doesn't change my opinion. Spike is bad news and you're better off without him."

There was nowhere to go with this argument, just as there was nowhere to go with the arguments with Xander. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Angel. I think you're wrong."

He seemed to realize they were at an impasse, nodding sadly. "If you need anything," he told her, opening his door, "anything at all, call me."

There was a time when she would have at least given him a hug before he left. Now she realized they hadn't touched once while he was there. He was in the car and the door closed before he looked up at her again. "Just one thing: if all your friends are telling you that it's wrong to be with him, maybe you should ask yourself why everyone feels that way."

It was an uncomfortable farewell and she stood on the curb watching the taillights disappear down Revello Drive. Even after they had disappeared, she stood there, arms hugged tight, as the little voice that had protested the night she'd taken this leap started whispering again.

When she returned to the house at last, it seemed as if Angel's departure had served as a signal to the others. Giles was getting ready to depart, though he and Anya seemed deep in a conversation that didn't look anywhere near finished even as Anya shrugged into her coat. "Tomorrow morning?" Anya asked as she and Giles stood at the door. "We're still doing the mall thing?"

Buffy managed a smile. "Absolutely."

"I'm going to stop by during the day," Giles said. "Spike and I have some business. Perhaps I'll still be here when you and Anya finish, er, conquering the local merchants."

This time, the smile was much less forced. "That would be nice."

When they were gone, she turned to find Xander standing with Willow. "I'd better hit the road myself," he said. "Unlike some people, tomorrow is a work day for me. Client's paying double time for the crew to come in."

He hesitated, then stepped forward and wrapped her in an embrace. She hugged back, hoping they'd put their troubles behind them. "Are we good?"

Xander grunted a little and Buffy relaxed her grip. "Can't stay mad at you for too long," he said. "I still don't like it, but I guess I have to put up with it."

Not exactly a resounding endorsement, but Buffy decided she could live with it. Then Willow joined them and for a moment all the angry words fell away, and they were the best friends nothing could come between once more.

Once he was out the door, Willow was all smiles. "That went well, considering. I mean, Angel showing up wasn't exactly in the cards, but it worked out."

"You finally convinced him not to be mad at me anymore?"

"That and to stop trying to think of ways to stake Spike at the first opportunity. I suggested that if anything happened to Spike, you might turn to Angel for comfort." Willow took a deep breath. "You know how Xander feels and that's not going to change any time soon. Hey, he never liked Angel, but he worked with him. Maybe he can reach that point with Spike."

"Maybe." Somehow, an armed truce wasn't what she was hoping for. "Thanks for listening."

"What are best friends for? Oh, and is that invitation to come along to the mall still open? I didn't tell you, but Mom gave me the credit card when I saw her yesterday. She actually looked at what I was wearing and decided she hated it."

Buffy wasn't quite certain Willow and Anya in the same vicinity was the best of ideas, but this was the first time Willow had actually shown enthusiasm about doing something together since she got back. "Absolutely. That'll be four of us. Spike will just have to survive on his own for the day."

In a good mood, Buffy headed for the kitchen as Willow went upstairs. "Willow's coming to the mall with us tomorrow," she told Dawn, who was finishing the dishes she'd previously sworn she wasn't going to do.

"So she's not going to sulk? That's an improvement." Putting the last dish in the drainer, Dawn turned off the tap and pulled the plug. "How's that eye, Spike?"

Spike was sitting at the counter, holding an ice bag to his bruised eye. "Doing just fine. Y'know, this doesn't do much for vampires. Just need to wait a couple of days and it'll be all better."

Buffy moved to sit on the stool next to him and reached out to pull the ice bag away. His eye was only slightly swollen, thankfully, but there was considerable bruising to the area. "He got you good."

"Not the first time. Probably not the last. Angel toddle off to LA?"

She nodded. "They've got their own work; they don't need to worry about what's going on here."

Spike looked a bit skeptical, but he thankfully didn't say a word. "We should get to bed," she said, reaching for his hand. "Dawn and I need to get an early start tomorrow."

They locked up and turned out the lights before heading upstairs. The quiet between the three of them as they made sure everything was taken care of was pleasant and comfortable. Buffy treasured the moments like this; it brought back the family feeling that had been missing since Mom died.

Once they were upstairs and in their rooms, though, the silence began to feel awkward. Spike was a talker, but tonight he was quiet as they moved through the evening rituals. By the time she'd finished her shower, he was already under the covers, book in hand. Buffy was used to that, having realized Spike was a voracious reader, but this didn't feel quite right, as if he'd somehow withdrawn a little.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Spike?"

He looked up, a quizzical expression on his face. "I love you," she said firmly.

For a moment, his expression didn't change. Then, just as her heart began to beat a little faster with worry, he smiled. "I love you, too."

As he put his book aside and reached for her, Buffy told the little voice inside her head to be quiet, that everything was alright.

On to Chapter Twelve

Back to Chapter Ten