PREVIOUSLY: Spike had this feeling that he'd done something that upset Buffy, so he ordered lots of flowers. Xander and Anya arrived at the same time as the delivery driver. Buffy and Willow had locked the front door when they went to the video store. Xander didn't recognise the cowled figure that opened the door and thought Spike was an intruder so he activated the Orbs of Nezzla Khan which he had been carrying on him, but had originally kept separated. The situation seemed to be diffused until Xander heard the florist mention charging Spike for his regular order, and accused Spike of cheating on Buffy. Knowing Xander was invulnerable, Spike lashed out verbally and stomped off to Buffy's room. Buffy and Willow arrived back just in time to catch the end of Spike's tirade. She went to go after him, but Xander grabbed her arm, trying to explain Spike's duplicity. Buffy told Xander to get his mind out of the gutter and pulled free going after Spike.

Chapter 4.07
Thursday, May 9th, 2002

Buffy knocked on her own room door, before she pushed it slowly open. As she'd expected, she was greeted by a waft of cigarette smoke. Spike was prowling around the room like a caged tiger on speed.

"Hey," she said in a soft voice. He turned to face her, his eyes automatically softening, but she could see he was still fighting the rage within him. She walked over to her dresser and pulled open one of the drawers to take out a ceramic ornament. "Catch," she said as she tossed it in his direction. "In case you feel the need to smash something."

He hefted the statuette in his hand checking its weight and balance before he actually looked at it and saw what she didn't like about it. A big strong Fred was carrying a seemingly grateful Daphne to safety in the best Scooby Doo tradition. Anger faded into amusement and his eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "Present from soldier boy?"

"You guessed it." She swayed over to him.

"Not in the mood for smashing stuff now, but if you want I could do it as a public service."

"We can save it ...for the next time Xander acts like a total ass." She took the offending article from him and sat it on the dresser. Then she took the half-smoked cigarette from his hand and dropped it into the remains of her mocha from earlier.

"So, other than implying that my mom was some two-bit ho that you were sneaking around with behind my back, what else did he say to get you that worked up?" Buffy asked.

"Wha'? How?"

"Just because you don't leave a card doesn't mean I haven't got a brain. I know Dawn doesn't get enough allowance to pay for fresh flowers every week. I knew it wasn't me and if Dad had been that thoughtful they wouldn't have been divorced in the first place.

I had my suspicions for a while, but after Saturday I was sure. I've been in your head, remember."

"S'pose, and yeah, that was pretty much it," Spike conceded.

"Why didn't you ever leave a card?"

"'Cause if I did Harris would probably have staked me. Him and Red all but physically chucked me off the property when I tried to leave flowers outside the house after. Said Joyce meant nothing to me and the only reason I bothered was to try to get in your knickers. As long as I didn't put my name on the card, it'd never occur to him that it might be me. Not the sort of thing an evil soulless git would do, not in his book, anyway."

"God, Spike, I'm sorry. I didn't know," Buffy apologised. "If I'd known. I mean, back then, I didn't get the thing between you and mom. But I got that there was a thing that I didn't get."

"Ancient history, pet. Don't worry 'bout it." His hands came up to cradle her neck, thumbs brushing her jaw-line as he tilted his head to come in for a kiss. Her hands fisted in the front of his sweatshirt as she pulled him toward her. He tasted of smoke and mints and she lost herself in him until he pulled her tight against him.

"Ah. Ow." She pushed away from him to get a look at her forearm, which had been crushed between them. His gaze followed her own to where a large handprint showed a livid darkening purple just above her wrist.

"Spike, no. Don't," but it was too late, Spike was already out the door and running down the stairs, leaving Buffy to trail behind.

"Harris, you bastard."

"Will, don't. It was an accident."

"Bollocks, accident. You don't get bruises like that accidentally."

Spike hauled a stunned looking Xander up off the couch by his shirt front, before sending him back into it with a nose-breaking punch, which in turn caused the headache that brought the vampire to his knees in a screaming heap. 

Xander rose to his feet again, wiping away a stream of blood from his nose but Buffy managed to get between the two before Xander could make a move on the vampire. Willow meanwhile rushed to shut the curtains in the room to prevent the now smouldering member of the undead community from bursting into flames, a situation he seemed to be only just becoming aware of. He pulled up the hood on the sweatshirt and let the material fall over his hands, but still he struggled to rise to his feet, his eyes a swirl of midnight blue and golden fire.

"Xander, just tell him it was an accident. You forgot you had the orbs, right?"

For a second, Xander stood there bemused by what was going on, but then Buffy's words penetrated his brain and his gaze moved from her face to the arm she held extended to keep him back from the vampire.

All of a sudden Xander fled for the front door of the house, yanking it open and falling to his knees on the front porch as his lunch and a packet of Cheetos made a reappearance.

"I know Giles wanted you to hit Xander, Spike, but I think making his nose bleed and making him throw up his lunch is a bit much," Anya surveyed the scene as she returned from the kitchen with a beer in either hand.

Spike merely pulled himself to his feet and took one of the open beers from her hand. "Ta, pet. I don't think your other half is going to be wanting one just yet."

"Spike!"

"What?" The vampire turned to look at the former ex-vengeance demon.

"They were both for me," she said, looking distinctly put out by the fact that Spike had now drunk at least half of the bottle in one pouring motion.

It was only Spike's vampiric hearing that let him catch Janice's comment from the top of the stairs.

"I don't know why you come to mine to watch Jerry Springer when your house is like this."

Buffy looked at the chaos surrounding her. "Will, Anya, you two want to check on Xander? I'm going to take Blondie here upstairs and try to find some migraine tablets. Dawn, you and Janice, back in your room or you can clean up the porch."

"That's so not fair. Xander made the mess," pouted Dawn, but went back to her room regardless.

"Tablets'll wear off too quick for it to be worth takin' them, pet." Spike sat on the edge of the bath while Buffy ransacked the bathroom cupboard for headache pills.

"What makes you think they're for you? Maybe it's the thought of you and Xander in the same house that's giving me a headache," Buffy teased.

"Sorry if I upset you, love."

"But not the least bit sorry for hitting Xander, I suspect."

Spike gave a small chuckle before replying, "No, can't say as I am. Even if it wasn't deliberate, he's still got to be responsible for how he uses those things."

"Well, I think he realises his mistake now, so leave it alone, okay?"

"'Kay. Are you okay? Your arm I mean. It is just a bruise?"

"I'll be fine. Nothing that won't sort itself out in a day or two. So, are you going to tell me why there's half a florists shop downstairs," Buffy prodded.

"'Cause I told her not to bother with the stuff you would need to find a vase for?"

"Funny. Spill."

"You seemed sort of ...edgy, before, and I didn't know if it was something I'd done, or maybe didn't do, or whether you were working up to telling me something or what, but I figured a pleasant surprise wouldn't do any harm, whatever. Enter Harris and the whole thing goes to hell."

"If you did something wrong, then we both did." She closed the bathroom cabinet and took a seat next to Spike, her attention apparently focussed on her most recent footwear acquisition. "I can't say I felt entirely comfortable with the idea we can't keep our hands off each other, even when Dawn's two feet away."

"You're uncomfortable." Spike snorted, not noticing Buffy's answering glare. "Scares me shitless ...but it's a good scared.

It's part of how we're right together." He reached over and took her unresisting hand in his. "I don't ever want to look at you across a room and not want you.

But, I don't want you wandering around all day guilt-ridden 'cause we had a quickie with the Niblet next door either, so if we find ourselves in a similar situation I'll try to have a bit more self-control ...not that I'm makin' any guarantees, 'cause you know you're irresistible, right?"

"Hmpf, tell that to your predecessors. And who are you to talk, Mr Sexy-Swagger Eyes-to-Die-For Energiser-Bunny Vampire? But we try, next time, rather than just give in."

Before she could work out quite how he did it, he'd scooped her up into his lap and put a chaste kiss on her lips. "So is that it? Or did I piss you off when I asked you to wait to claim me, as well?"

"Not piss-off, not exactly." Buffy kept her eyes focussed on the dip at the base of his throat.

He kept his voice soft, trying to coax her out. "Then what exactly?"

"I... the way you want it. I can't do it." She flicked a glance over his face trying to gauge his response, only to find his expression so deliberately neutral that she knew he was masking his feelings. "I mean, I want to do it. It's just all the blood stuff, not a turn on. I want to have the bond, but the idea of biting you and drinking your blood, and is it even your blood, or is it just the pig blood that you had for dinner?"

He smiled softly. "It's my blood. Otherwise you would have people turning themselves by slaughtering innocent pigs. So what do you want to do?"

"I think I want to do it, but it can't be all moonlight and roses and soft seduction. It's not a sensual thing for me. It's got to be all endorphins and adrenaline."

"You're saying if I want you to claim me, it'll have to be during a good hard shag?"

She nodded her head against his chest.

"Pet, that's okay. Like you say, maybe not exactly what I had in mind, but it's not like we can't have the gentler stuff after, is it?"

She didn't answer him in so many words, but her hands wrapped themselves around his neck and she shifted against him till there was no gap between their bodies, letting her cheek rest against his shoulder. And they stayed like that until they heard Tara at the front door.

"Glinda."

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, Tara."

The blonde pair strolled downstairs hand in hand as Tara was pushing the door closed.

"Is that stuff on the porch some sort of demon goo or is it just what it looks like?"

"Harris goo."

"I guess that means they decided to leave the mess for me to clean up," Buffy sighed.

"Harris made the bloody mess. Let him clear it up."

The two women exchanged glances and then looked at Spike as if he'd lost his mind.

"What? ...Why're you two lookin' at me like I'm some sorta moron?"

Buffy tilted her head as she watched him. "For one thing, there's no polite way to ask him to do it. For another, if he tried it might end up making him ill again and for a third, there's a chance they're still trying to set his nose and stop it bleeding. Whatever, he'll be doing the guy thing and playing up for sympathy."

"Yeah, well, as I recall your standard bedside manner consists of the phrase 'You'll live'. An' if you're worried about being rude then I'll bloody tell him to do it. Nobody expects me to be polite."

"No you won't!" Buffy hissed loudly at him. "You will not embarrass me in front of my friends. Look, just call... Actually maybe we'll wait till later to get the pizzas. Just take Tara through, get her a beer if she wants one.

I'd rather do it myself, anyway, than have Xander do a half-ass job and have to try to get rid of it when it's dried on."

Buffy ducked out the front door and started to make her way round to the back of the house to get the hose. Spike told himself that he should do as she said. No way was he cleaning up the Whelp's bloody puke. But no way was he letting her lift that hose reel and run round after that git when her arm was in that state. His gaze darted back and forward between the door and Tara for a few seconds before he made up his mind.

"Pixie, you know where the fridge is. Help yourself." Adjusting the sweatshirt so it would protect him from the rays of the setting sun, he dashed after his girl.

Buffy looked up as he came round the corner, not fooled by his sudden change to walking pace. "What now?" she asked irritably as she struggled to find a way to pick up the heavy reel so that it wasn't resting against her bruised arm.

"Thought maybe I could help."

"But why?"

Spike shrugged. "'Cause you're hurt and I'm not. 'Cause I don't think it's right you havin' to do it. 'Cause you're better than that."

"How about 'cause the sun hasn't set yet and you could catch fire. I appreciate the thought but I don't think you should be taking chances with Mr Sunlight."

"Then leave it and I'll get it later. Sun'll be down in an hour or so."

Buffy sighed. "Compromise. You carry that round to the front of the house and then get your melanin-deprived ass back inside, and I'll hose it off. It can't be any worse than cleaning the gents after a weekend late shift at DMP."

Spike picked up the heavy reel without comment, carrying it round to the tap at the front of the house and hooking it up. Buffy grabbed the other end of the hose before Spike could. She'd noticed his lack of agreement re the division of labour. The porch was soon damp, but free of debris. Spike hung back by the door.

"I woulda got it for you, pet," he said.

"I know ...but maybe I think you're better than that," she told him.

For once, the vampire was stunned into silence.

To say things were tense when the blonde duo walked into the front room would be like saying Pavarotti could sing a bit. Spike was staring daggers at Xander. Xander couldn't work out whether to retaliate or look sheepish for Buffy's benefit. Buffy was trying to keep an eye on the room's testosterone quotient. Dawn and Janice were quietly treating the whole thing like a tennis match. Tara had found the wine that was left over from Spike and Buffy's picnic and was looking far more civilised than the beer-swilling adults as she and Willow snuggled up on the sofa. Anya had got over her earlier fright and was now busy making a fuss over Xander and his busted and puffy nose.

"Spike. You broke Xander's nose. Now he may never recover his classic profile," Anya whined.

"You're telling me he's been round Buffy for six years and it's the first time he's had his nose bust. One of us must've been getting special treatment," Spike snarked.

"Spike," said Buffy in a soft voice, a plea to the vampire and she was surprised that he immediately dropped back and stood back leaning against the wall, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter. "How's your nose, Xander?"

"It'll be fine. It'd take more than the blond bimbo to do any permanent damage," Xander answered in a subdued tone. "What about your arm?"

"Just bruised. A few days and it'll heal right up. Don't sweat it."

"Look, Buffy, I'm really sorry. I didn't realise how tight I was holding you. I know it's no excuse, but you have to know that I would never deliberately hurt you."

"If you really meant that, you wouldn't be trying to cause trouble between me and Spike and I wouldn't have this bruise. He's right. You don't know him. Either get to know him or just stay away from him, but don't ...just jump to all the worst conclusions then start throwing accusations about. I'm sick of it."

Buffy moved over into Spike's waiting arms, looking up to give him a smile of thanks for staying quiet. Spike returned the smile and asked, "Anybody need another drink?"

"It's okay, Spike, I'll get them. Beer right?" Tara offered, scanning round the room for any other takers.

"Yeah, pet. Thanks." Spike treated her to a glowing smile as his arms settled more firmly around Buffy, only moving to take a draw from his cigarette or to flick ash into the fireplace.

"Well, how about we skip to the filmed drama rather than the real stuff?" suggested Willow as she picked up the first of the tapes and slotted it into the machine.

A few minutes later the trailers finished and a disgruntled English voice asked, "Alright, which one of you two is the evil bint responsible for this?" The opening titles of Coyote Ugly moved across the screen.

The rest of the evening passed without further incident. The men in the group were slightly mollified by the Jet Li film that followed the blatant chick flick. Xander even played nice and said he'd leave his plans and sketches for the basement so that Buffy and Spike could look through them together and discuss the various alternatives. Of course, he still didn't actually speak to Spike, but then no-one expected miracles.

Everything more or less broke up when Buffy and Spike walked Janice home. It seemed to instigate a general parting of the ways. The pair had planned on doing a patrol after they finished escort duty, with a stop at Spike's flat at some point in the night. Things turned out slightly differently.

"Spike, I kinda wanna just go home now... curl up in bed... get some sleep. This whole thing with Xander... and patrolling injured... not a great plan."

"Oh... right then. I'll see you home and do a quick sweep before I head for my place."

Buffy sighed. "I was hoping you would come with. Keep the bad dreams away? ...if you think you could just sleep."

"Maybe," Spike answered, his head tilted forward and a mischievous grin matching the sparkle in his eyes. "...if I get a cup of cocoa first."

"With little marshmallows," Buffy agreed. "We could have a look through Xander's plans. See if there's something we like... then we've got the morning to ourselves... well, together anyway. I don't know who else will be around."

"Slayer, shhh. You had me as soon as you asked. And I was going to ask to be excused from the sexcapades tonight anyway. I've got a stinkin' headache." He squeezed the hand he was holding and then released it in favour of slipping his arm around Buffy's shoulders.