Spike lay half-dozing; the sounds of activity floating up from downstairs pulled at his consciousness, but he didn't want to wake up yet. It wasn't that anything had happened last night—at least nothing beyond a sweet, almost-chaste kiss goodnight and a fully-clothed Buffy sleeping cuddled up against him—but as far as nights went, it ranked right up there as one of the best he'd known in his reasonably long life, and he was in no hurry to see it end.

Buffy stirred, snuggling closer and burying her face against his chest while mumbling something that was incomprehensible even to vampire ears. He brushed the hair back from her face with one hand, tightening the other arm fractionally to hold her close for just a few moments more.

~*~

Buffy opened the fridge, stifling a yawn and frowning as she stared at the contents, or lack thereof.

“Looking for something, love?” Spike sauntered into the kitchen behind her, smirking when she jumped, then sprawling back against the doorjamb with practiced negligence as he studied her silently.

“I... Uh... Where do you keep the blood?” Buffy asked. “I mean, we brought some, but with everything,” she waved her hands in the direction of the dining room, “we kinda forgot to put it in the fridge, and well...” She crinkled her nose in disgust and continued, “So, I was hoping we could borrow—or it wouldn't really be borrowing because he couldn't exactly give it back when he's done with it—but...” She grimaced and shook her head. “You can stop me any time, you know...”

Spike laughed. “I was kinda enjoying watching you babble,” he admitted with a grin.

“Gee...thanks,” Buffy said. “So... blood?”

“Sorry, pet. Don't keep any. But if you want, I can send the Nibblet to pick some up.”

“Thanks, that would be...  Hang on, you don't keep any? Then how do you...?”

His eyes sparkled, lips pursing into a far-too-sexy combination of a smirk and a pout as his gaze dipped slowly from her eyes to her throat.

“Oh,” Buffy said. “Oh!” Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “I, uh... okay. I should...” she glanced through the doorway to where her counterpart's voice could be heard arguing with Dawn in the next room, “...I should check to see if Spike's out of the shower yet, let him know breakfast will be here soon.” The low rumble of his laughter echoed in her ears as she hurried past him. She took the stairs two at a time, wondering how this Spike could be so much like hers and yet so different, and why he made her so nervous. It was obvious that he was very much in love with this world's version of herself, and that she, and her friends, trusted him completely; so soul or no soul, he obviously wasn't evil. Besides, she told herself, it wasn't really an evil-vibes kind of nervous, it was more that he made her feel like he knew the punch line to some big cosmic joke that she hadn't even worked out she was the butt of.

She charged into their room and stopped dead. Her face, already flushed from the encounter in the kitchen, reddened further. “I'm sorry,” she said, turning to face the door. “I should have knocked.”

“'s alright, love,” Spike replied, quickly pulling a clean pair of jeans up his still-slightly-damp legs. “You can turn around now,” he added as he reached into his bag for a clean shirt.

“I'm really sorry, I...”

“Buffy,” he interrupted, closing the distance between them and caressing her burning cheek lightly with his knuckles, “believe me when I say that I have no problem with you seein' me naked. In point of fact...”

“Don't,” Buffy said. “Please. No jokes. I think I've had about all I can take of you laughing at me for one day.”

Spike frowned. “When...?”

Buffy shook her head and sighed, leaning forward until her head rested against his chest. His arms closed around her, and she brought her own up to circle his waist, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to be comforted. “You didn't,” she said eventually, tilting her head up to meet his confused gaze. “Or, not you you—the other you. Not in an evil way or anything,” she added hastily when Spike's face darkened. “Just, I don't know... like he's teasing me, or sharing some kind of in joke—only I'm not in.”

Spike stroked her hair as she rested her head once more against his chest, the rhythmic caress of his fingers soothing away the last of her discomfort and lulling her gently towards sleep.

“There isn't any blood,” Buffy said, snapping herself out of the dreamlike trance as she remembered her earlier errand. “Spike,” she grimaced, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the situation, “the <i>other</i> Spike, said he'll send Dawn to get some for you.”

He stiffened slightly, and she caught a flash of something in his eyes before his face closed off and he nodded. “Thanks, love.”

“Spike?”

“C'mon, Slayer,” he said, turning away from her to grab a pair of socks out of the duffle. “Work to do, yeah?” Before Buffy could get her mind around his sudden change in mood, he had finished dressing in a remarkable display of vampiric coordination and was on his way down the stairs.

~*~

Buffy lifted her face and the steaming jets struck, their sharp sting soothing away the frustration of the day.

It had been a very long day.

Despite the continued research party, they were no closer to understanding why a usually peaceful demon had kidnapped her sister. Buffy's neck ached from many hours of staring at books, and she turned so the hot water was hitting the back of her neck and stiff, sore shoulders. She sighed with pleasure as the heat worked its way into her protesting muscles, and wondered why sitting at a table reading could make her hurt more than going ten rounds with a vampire.

Her thoughts jumped to the vampire waiting for her in their room. “Assuming he is actually in there waiting,” she muttered to herself, “and not sulking outside in the dark.” She knew he wouldn't go far, not with the chance that the amulet could go off at any time.

She sighed once more, this time in frustration. Things had started off so well that morning, what with the waking up slowly, snuggled-up together after a lovely restful night's sleep. And even though it should have been awkward, or at least she assumed it should have been, it wasn't. It just felt right. They'd cuddled for a little longer, talking about the progress they'd made with the amulet, and their increased hope of finding Dawn sometime soon. Eventually her nagging bladder and growling stomach had driven her from bed, and she'd volunteered to get breakfast while Spike showered, and that's when the day had started to go downhill—rapidly!

Buffy still didn't understand what she'd done to upset Spike, but he'd been politely distant all day—nodding or answering her briefly when she spoke to him, not rude, just not...Spike.

She turned off the water, grabbing her towel and scrubbing briskly at her body and hair as she stepped out of the shower. She hadn't realised how much she'd come to cherish their new-found closeness until it was gone, and she was determined to find out what had happened.