The brainstorming in Giles’ living room had turned into a glaring fest, and Buffy would have given anything to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Even fighting Adam with a toothpick for a sole weapon would have been better than this.

The previous night, as she was patrolling with Willow and Xander, they had dropped by Spike’s crypt. She hadn’t been sure whether to be annoyed or relieved that he wasn’t there. The kiss from the night before was still fresh in her mind; and the fluttering of her heart every time she thought of it wasn’t helping her stay focused on the hunt for their new foe. They had left a note on his fridge where Spike was bound to see it, asking him to come by Giles’ the next afternoon. The Watcher had been the one who suggested inviting him, pointing out that since Spike could fight demons, he would be able to help against Adam and that they did need all the help they could get.

Spike had showed up only a few minutes late and had complained about daytime meetings and the Scoobies trying to get him dusted. But he had shown up and not once had questioned the fact that they needed him, or that they wanted his help. Buffy had tried to avoid looking at him too much, but somehow every time she had glanced toward where he was sitting on the steps their gazes had met and the tiniest smile had tugged at his lips. It didn’t help her at all to stay attentive during the discussion.

They had just started brainstorming their options for fighting Adam when a knock on the door and then Riley’s entrance had interrupted them. He had hesitated briefly, after noticing Spike, and then he had ignored him totally as he had come forward, restating that he was there to help. He had come to Buffy’s dorm earlier that day, catching her for the few minutes she was there to change clothes between patrols, and had managed to convince her that his desire to help was genuine.

Spike’s sour mood had started to manifest itself shortly after the soldier’s arrival. No more smiles, only frowns and pointed glares that made quite clear what he soon was voicing in unequivocal terms. He didn’t trust Riley, and he couldn’t understand why anyone else – Buffy – did.

In truth, she couldn’t fault him, not after getting a clearer idea of what the Initiative was like and what Spike must have gone through. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t afford to turn her nose up on Riley’s offered help. Moreover, she couldn’t see what the Initiative would have had to gain by sending a double agent to them, whereas there was a lot they could learn by having someone on the inside.

“Spike, we heard you the first time around,” she interrupted him, more harshly than she had meant to, when he started snarking again about the soldier amongst them. “You don’t trust Riley, and it’s clear that Riley doesn’t trust you either. We’ll make sure that you two don’t have to work together; but right now, we’re not turning away anyone who wants to help.”

The look the vampire gave her was an icy glare laced with pained disappointment; and though he didn’t say a word, she could hear loud and clear what he had to say. She trusted a quasi stranger as much as she trusted the person who had fought by her side for a year. She trusted one of the people who had hurt Spike. She was acting as though there had been nothing between her and the vampire.

But was there something between them? Did she want it? Could she want it?

And she was right back where she had started, to the confusion of a few months back. Suspecting – no, knowing – what Spike felt for her, and being clueless as to what her own feelings were.

Except that she was beginning to suspect it might not be cluelessness as much as fear.

The phone rang, cutting short her train of thoughts and interrupting Xander’s inquiry about whether Riley would be able to get them more weapons. Giles answered and called Buffy to the phone; and as she learned that Faith had awoken and escaped the hospital, Adam was suddenly thrown to the back of her mind.

Spike, however, remained front and center.

As usual, Spike was sitting in the back row, a simple spectator even though he had offered to be player in Faith’s hunt.

Buffy had dismissed his offer with no more thought than when she had earlier accepted the wanker’s help, pointing out with stinging words that there wasn’t a thing he could do about Faith anyway. He already knew that, didn’t he? He was aware of how much of a puppy the Slayer thought he was, aware that initiations to their planning meetings were more to indulge him than because they really thought he could help. He would rather not have been invited than to see the wanker accepted into the group more quickly than he had ever been. Then, he also wouldn’t have seen the way the idiot had looked at Buffy and how careful she had been not to return his glances, just like she had avoided looking at Spike. Trust her to pretend nothing had ever happened between them, or that she didn’t know exactly how he felt.

Even if she had told him to stay out of it, or maybe precisely because she had, he made a point of patrolling that night, on the look out for a petite brunette and her scent. A couple of times, he thought he had gotten her trail, even found a dead demon abandoned in a back alley and a pair of annoying Scoobies. But in the end, he didn’t find her. Which wasn’t so bad. What would he have done if he had? What could he have done?

Giles was only half listening to Xander’s babbling as they patrolled together. He didn’t actually believe that Faith would go after Xander, whatever ‘history’ they might have had. There were undoubtedly more attractive targets for her, and one of them was actually right there in front of them, coming out of a dark alley, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Spike,” Xander acknowledged with a slight nod as he lowered the Initiative’s weapon he had insisted on taking along.

“What are you doing here?” Giles asked even though he was rather sure the vampire was doing the same thing they were.

“Free country, ain’t it?” he replied defiantly.

Giles gave a small shake of head. “Certainly. You are entirely free to wander around and risk being taken by the Initiative or dusted by Faith.”

Spike’s only reaction was to scowl as he pushed past them and strode away; frowning slightly, Giles watched him disappear around a corner. Riley had, somewhat reluctantly, given them information about what had been done to Spike, roughly explaining that a computer chip had been inserted into his brain and that it inflicted pain each time Spike seriously considered or actually tried to hurt a human. It was only a matter of time, Giles was sure, before the vampire tried to have the microchip removed, whatever the risk of brain damage. And he suspected that each reminder of his near fangless state was only another push in that direction. As much as Giles frowned upon what the Initiative had done to Spike, to other demons, and to Adam, he couldn’t help the slight relief that the vampire was harmless to humans now. Seeing how close he was to all of them, especially Buffy, it was somehow reassuring.

Motioning to Xander, Giles started walking again. They had matters to take care of more pressing than Spike’s fate; Faith and Adam were both perfectly able to hurt innocents.

Spike wasn’t in his crypt when Buffy entered it; she missed the time when he used to come to her every night. It was becoming annoying not to be able to find him whenever she needed to talk to him, especially when there were too many people out there who could, and would, hurt him in a heartbeat. Not that she had any reason to worry about him, evidently, and whom was she trying to fool? Of course, she was worried. Wasn’t that why she was there?

After pacing for a few minutes, she gave up on waiting and decided to leave, but just as she was reaching for the door, it opened to reveal Spike. A raised eyebrow was the only sign of surprise he gave as he stepped around her and made a beeline to his fridge. She watched him silently as he pulled out a bag of blood and sank his fangs into it before draining it in a few quick pulls.

She had debated with herself about how to say this, and now that he was there, it didn’t make things any easier. Still, she had to say it.

“Have you thought about my suggestion?” she asked, stepping a few steps closer to where he had taken a seat on the sarcophagus. He had already disposed of the empty blood bag and had shrugged out of his duster, placing it next to him on the stone. He observed her as he fished out a cigarette pack from his pocket and lit one; she tried not to fidget under his gaze.

“What suggestion’s that?” he finally replied, exhaling blue smoke.

“Getting out of town until things get…”

“No.”

Feeling very much like stomping her foot at his stubbornness, Buffy came closer still, the fleeting thought passing through her mind that she was as unable to resist him as a moth was to going toward the light.

“Faith is not the Initiative,” she said as calmly as she could. “She knows where you live, knows how to hunt vampires, and she won’t play when she finds you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he shot back irritably. “I know the bint, and I can take care of myself.”

The hard look he gave her all but dared her to mention the chip, which she had been about to do. Instead, she let it go. He knew what he could and couldn’t do; there was no reason to make him feel any more useless. Maybe if she found another angle…

“Listen, I saw her today…”

A flicker of renewed interest in his eyes invited her to continue.

“And she made it clear she is going to try to hurt me through the people I… care about.”

Her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed, and if at all possible, his gaze hardened even more.

“Then I should be safe,” he spat bitterly. “She’ll go after Captain Cardboard before she even thinks of me.”

Buffy shook her head, both at the idiocy of his statement and at how it echoed Faith’s earlier words. It seemed that she had seen them all at Giles’, and she had ranted about Buffy almost killing her to save a vampire she wasn’t even dating.

“Why do you think I’m here?” she challenged. “Because I’m worried about Riley? I wonder why I even bother.”

With a last glare, she turned her back on him and walked out, fuming against men in general and this one in particular. It was already hard enough for her, why did he have to make things even more difficult?

Things were difficult for her? Ah bloody ah. What am I supposed to say about how difficult it was for me?

Alright, I can’t say my experience with women is very extensive. But I’d bet that no one – no one at all in this dimension and any other you can name – is as complicated as the Slayer when it comes to what she feels and how to express it.

Yes, I understand that she had a bad experience with a vampire before me. Hell, I was there, wasn’t I? Saw the whole bloody show happening. Even had a small role. But was it a reason to blow hot and cold on me like that for so long? Drove me insane, that’s what she did. Completely and utterly. Which might be why when I next saw her…

But I’m going a bit too fast, ain’t I? See, I can learn not to tell too much.

Right. So where were we?

Oh, of course. The Slayer. Asking me to come by for a Scooby meeting, ignoring me for most of it, refusing my help in hunting Faith, and dropping by my crypt to hint that she cared about me, worried for my safety, and that I was an idiot.

What was I supposed to believe? That she did care but didn’t dare say it in simpler words? That’s at least what I chose to think. I opened myself for possibly more blows, but for a while, at least, hope was nice.

She was wrong, by the way. Faith didn’t come after me. Or at least, not on purpose. She went after Joyce and Dawn, and if I had stopped to think for a minute that night, I would have realized it too, as the Slayer had. Might have gone to Revello and been there to help, however I could. Would I have seen the change immediately? I like to think I would have, but I guess I’ll never know.