"Sleep well?" Faith asked as Buffy entered the living room.

Buffy hesitated, looking from the smirking Faith near the doorway, to where Wesley sat on the couch with several large stacks of books balanced around him as he pored over the one in his lap. "I... uh... " she stammered, a hot blush rising to colour her cheeks.

"Chill, B. I'm just giving you a hard time. What you and fang-boy do is your business."

"It's not like that," Buffy protested. “We're friends."

"Right." The dark-haired slayer nodded slowly, her eyes sparkling.

"We... he... I had a nightmare," Buffy finished quietly.

"Faith, if you're quite done tormenting Buffy, I'd like to ask her a few questions about this demon." Wesley looked up from his research and smiled gently at the smaller slayer. "Going on the description you gave, I've been able to narrow it down to a few possibilities." He quickly moved a pile of precariously balanced books from the seat next to him and indicated for Buffy to sit down.

He waited until Buffy was settled before reaching for a large ancient-looking tome he had set aside earlier and opening at the bookmarked page. “Does this look like the demon that kidnapped your sister?” he asked.

Faith moved to stand behind the couch, peering at the book over Buffy and Wesley’s shoulders.

Buffy shook her head. “No. It was bigger, you know... thicker set. And not all bent over like that.”

“How about this one?” Wesley carefully set aside the first volume before replacing it with a newer, less fragile-looking but equally large one.

‘Maybe it’s some kinda pre-requisite that demon-y books have to be big,’ Buffy mused before returning her attention to the page Wesley was pointing to, and once again shaking her head in the negative.

Half an hour or so later a dejected watcher and slayer sighed in unison as Wesley set aside yet another book.

“That’s the last of my suspects,” he informed her quietly, reaching for another book despite his words. “I bookmarked this next one because it does fit your description; however, the P’Lontus demon is a non-aggressive species that prefers to avoid human contact.” He opened the book to the page and was startled by Buffy’s jubilant shout.

“That’s it,” Buffy repeated emphatically when the watcher continued to look at her with disbelief.

“I’ve never heard of a P’Lontus interfering with humans before. They are, as I said, a non-aggressive species. They are often referred to as the Pilot demon because of their ability to ferry others through dimensions, and rumour has it, through time.

“So, why would this Pilot demon want my sister?” Buffy’s brows knit together as she searched for possible reasons. “You don’t think... he wouldn’t be taking her back through time to Glory, would he?” she asked, jumping to her feet. Her voice rose rapidly in pitch and volume as panic seized her.

“I can’t imagine why,” the watcher soothed. “There would certainly be no benefit in it for him. In fact there would be considerable loss of income for the P’Lontus as a race if the doors between dimensions were to be opened. I’ll do some more research; see if I can fathom why your sister may have been taken, and what we can do to rescue her. In the meantime I suggest you try to relax, and get as much rest as possible. You’ll be of no use to your sister, or anyone for that matter, in the exhausted state you were upon your arrival.”

He turned to face the dark-haired slayer. “Faith, would you mind showing Buffy to the kitchen? I’m sure she must be hungry and I really need to get back to my books, time being somewhat of the essence. He smiled warmly at his lover to soften the dismissal and she nodded briefly in reply.

“This way, B. It’s best to leave him alone when he’s in watcher-mode... he gets all stuffy, and that’s never a pretty sight.” She reached out, placing her hand on the other girl’s back and ushering the reluctant slayer from the room. “Trust me. You don’t want to be here.” In a mock-whisper she added, “And he’ll work a lot better if we leave him alone.” At Buffy’s continued reluctance she continued, “Seriously, B, he’s good at this stuff. Give the man some quiet and let him do his job.”

~*~

“So what’s the deal with you and Blondie?” Faith asked around a mouthful of pop tart.

“I told you, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, heard that speech the first time, still not sure I’m buyin’ it.” Faith grinned unrepentantly as Buffy’s cheeks coloured. “What I mean, though, is even if I was buying the whole ‘we’re friends’ deal... How? How the hell do you get to be friends with William the Bloody?”

She pushed her chair back and instead hopped up onto the wooden table, one booted foot resting on the seat of the recently vacated chair, the other leg swinging freely as she studied her fellow slayer carefully before continuing. “In this world he’s a vicious killer. He’s murdered two slayers, tried to kill you, too, from what I hear. No idea where him and his crazy girlfriend are hanging these days, but I know they showed up in LA a few years back; caused a whole mess of trouble for Angel before they took off again.”

“The Gem of Amara,” Buffy mumbled.

“Huh?”

“Oh, this gem... it makes vampires invincible. Spike found it. I took it off him and sent it to Angel. Spike tried to get it back. I don’t know the details but Angel ended up destroying it. But that was before the chip.” Buffy took a nibble at her pop tart before washing it down with a large swig of juice.

She frowned slightly, trying to put her thoughts in order before continuing. “Spike’s... well, Spike’s complicated. First we were enemies, then he just used to piss me off, then he started being useful but still annoying and somewhere along the way we became friends. Don’t ask me how, ‘cause I’ve got no idea. That doesn’t mean he can’t still be annoying,” she added. “But it’s okay; like when Xander’s annoying, or Anya... well, less like Anya ‘cause I never really get her. Anyway, this last year Spike has really been there for me, you know? He looked after my mom and Dawn, helped me after Mom died. He did so much more than I would ever have imagined. He risked his life trying to keep Dawn safe, and then after I... Well, let’s just say he took care of Dawn and the others for me while I couldn’t be there.”

The sound of booted feet making their way up the corridor interrupted them and Buffy fell silent, turning to face the new arrival.

“Ladies,” Spike greeted them from the doorway. “Watcher said I’d find you in here.  Shoulda woken me, pet,” he told Buffy as he entered the room. The colour rose in Buffy’s cheeks and he smiled shyly before turning hopeful eyes on the other slayer. “Don’t s’pose you got a chance to get...”

“In the fridge,” Faith answered, cutting him off.

“Thanks, love. ‘Preciate it.” He opened the fridge and took the bag of blood out, one eyebrow quirking at the brunette when he pulled out a Red Cross bag instead of the expected pig’s blood.

“Cups are over there.” Faith indicated, ignoring his unspoken question. “Use the chipped brown one, and make sure you clean it after you're done,” she added.

The two slayers fell silent. Buffy went back to munching on her breakfast while Faith continued to sit on the table digesting everything she had learned about her unusual houseguests.

Spike poured the blood into the mug and threw the empty packet in the bin before turning to place his breakfast in the microwave. He froze, empty hand outstretched towards the microwave.

“Spike?” Buffy asked tentatively when the vampire remained unmoving for a few moments. “Is something wrong?”

She got up and made her way over to the immobile vampire. As she moved around him she looked up at his face and noticed that his eyes were filled with wonder and he was staring transfixed at his outstretched hand. “Spike?” She looked once more from his face to his hand before breathing in sharply. With a smile she reached out, gently covering his hand for a moment before sliding hers under and clasping it. “How long has it been?” she asked quietly.

Spike pulled himself from his trance with an effort. “Hundred and twenty years, give or take. Not countin’ that time with the gem... didn’t really take the time to smell the roses then. Was more interested in killing you.” He smiled apologetically and she shook her head giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Just friends. Yeah, right,” Faith muttered to herself.