Chapter Six

That day and the next continued in the same way it had started; Buffy was playing nurse for Spike. Mostly, he slept, but then he was up and about, still with the fever running high. On Sunday morning, the English patient walked downstairs, then he sat down on the sofa and wouldn't get up and go to bed again, and Buffy had ended up carrying him up to the bedroom.

"Jeez, you're heavy," she sighed as she put the man down on the bed. Actually, he hadn't been that heavy, it was just that getting up the stairs with someone bigger than yourself was really not that easy.

Sighing again, she nursed him to some water, making him drink it in little, slow sips. Then, as he began trembling again, she gave him another massage; she'd found that helped him a lot.

"I'm good Slayer…" he muttered. "Don't need your… bloody… help."

"Sure, Spike," she answered him, still continuing the massage. She knew he was either dreaming or just plain imagining things, since his speech wasn't all that put together.

"Hello, I'm home," she suddenly heard Dawn from downstairs.

Buffy ended the massage, pulled the covers up on Spike and left the room. Downstairs, Dawn was taking her jacket off.

"Hi Dawnie," Buffy said with a tired smile.

"How's the patient doing?" Dawn asked, looking at the sister.

"He's fine, just… sick."

"Yeah, 'patients' usually are sick or hurt, you know," Dawn smiled. "He upstairs?"

"Uh hu, he's sleeping though. I just gave him a massage, so he would –"

"A massage?" Dawn asked incredulously. "Since when do you give him massages?"

"Since yesterday. It helps against the fever, I think."

"Right." Buffy could tell her sister didn't believe a word she was saying. "I'm going up to my room."

On Sunday night Buffy went out patrolling, just like she had the night before. She was tired though – on the other hand, when aren't I tired, she thought – and she was happy that she didn't meet more than three vampires.

The next morning, Spike's fever was finally going down, Buffy noticed happily. His body was no longer burning under her fingers, and when she peered in later during the day, he was actually awake and reading, though it seemed to be going slow.

Silently, she made her way in.

"Hi," she said nervously, stopping two or three feet away from his bed. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't respond at once; first he put away the book. "Fine," he then said.

"Uh… good. I have some more water for you; you still need to drink." She put the glass down on his bed stand.

"Thanks."

"Well then… I'll, uh, be leaving." Quickly, she turned around to leave, wanting to get out of this uncomfortable situation.

"Wait, Buffy," he called on her.

The fact that he was calling her by her name and not 'Slayer' made Buffy stop and turn around. The young man on the bed had an expression on his face, which held so many emotions: hurt, anger, sadness and hope.

"What is it?" she asked equally quiet.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, quietly, but she heard. She took a step closer to him and sat down on the side of the bed.

"I know," she said, "and I am too."

It felt strange to sit this close to him again, but not bad strange. It was a feeling of coming home again; knowing that she was getting back to someone she trusted. Because even after what had happened between them, she trusted him, totally and completely. He took her hand and held it lightly, still weak. She stroke his hair with her free hand, gently.

"So, are you feeling better?" she questioned him again.

"Yeah, lots better," he replied, and she knew he wasn't only talking about the illness.

The rest of the week without her mother was less eventful. Spike recovered and he and Buffy were talking with each other, so Buffy couldn't say that the flu had come only as a bad thing. She was grateful, though, that neither she nor Dawn had caught it, since Buffy didn't feel like playing either role, neither nurse again or the sick patient.

In school, she told Willow that Spike and her were friends again.

"Oh good," the redhead answered. "I thought you'd never speak to one another again."

"It's such a weird feeling," Buffy said, "These past two months feels like they didn't really happen."

"That's how it is with real friends," Willow insisted. "They fight and then forget. Like me and Tara."

"Yeah, but you're a couple, not just friends."

Willow looked at her meaningfully.

"No, no, Will, not going there," Buffy said, realizing what her friend was tending at. "That's what got me into this whole mess to begin with, the fact that I didn't have romantic feelings for him, and I didn't want him as a boyfriend."

"Uh hu," Willow said, still looking at Buffy with a smug smile on her face. "Then why do you talk about him all the time, even when the two of you were fighting? Come on, Buffy, you are attracted to him, I know it." She paused, then said, "I need to turn here, so I'll see you later. Think about what I said."

She turned into another corridor, while Buffy continued straight ahead.

Think about what I said, Willow had told her. How could Buffy not think about it? Since Spike had been sick, it seemed that he was the only thing she thought about. While slaying, while in class, while practicing with Giles, while eating and even in her dreams, he was the reoccurring character. And something within her asked, how long are you going to pretend? He is not going to be here forever, as Willow had pointed out earlier on. If anything, it was just closer to him leaving now. She knew that she was going to miss him when he left, all of him. His smile, his talk, their banter. The loving looks he sent her way every time they talked now.

You love him, and you know it, a voice told her. Act on it, or you'll regret it.

March was coming to its end, and Buffy could feel the days rushing past her. She hadn't done anything about her realization that she loved Spike for over a week; she was still working up the nerve. At nights, she was out patrolling, and Spike had once more started going with her, especially on the nights when the Scoobies couldn't.

The two were walking silently over the cemetery, the grass still wet from a recent rain. A vampire was strolling towards them, but as the creature saw the two, it turned around and fled into the woods. Buffy let it; there was no use in trying to catch it in the woods.

"What are you thinking of, pet?"

He had gone back to calling her pet, and she loved it. Feeling nervous, she answered quickly, "Nothing."

"That came to quick."

"No, really, it's nothing." I'm only thinking of you. She wanted to say it out loud, but didn't dare to. What if he didn't like her anymore? It had gone two months; maybe he had grown tired of her. She knew that he knew girls in the senior class – a couple of them had been by their house quite a few times – but none seemed to act as his girlfriend.

"C'mon, pet, something's bugging you," he irked.

She stopped and was just about to say something as a vampire came jumping out of a nearby bush. The vampire growled and threw himself forward.

"Do you mind?" Buffy asked angrily as she punched the vampire on the nose. "We're trying to have a conversation here. Ever heard of that?" The vampire yelled in pain as Buffy kicked him onto the ground and sat down on him. "No? Then I guess you'll never hear of it." She set the stake through his heart and the creature was dust.

As she stood up, she noticed Spike was chuckling. "And nothing's bugging you, pet? Try another one."

"I was going to tell you," Buffy said, feeling nervous again, "Before that dust pile interrupted."

"Oh really? Let's hear." He sounded amused.

"Spike, shut up." He fell quiet.

"You know," she began, "For someone who was lying sick and shivering in my hands just a week ago, you sure do have a lot of nerve." She paused, changing her tone. "I'm sorry for the way I hurt you, Spike –"

"No need to…" he interrupted.

"Quiet, please," Buffy begged. "I need to say this, without interruptions. I-I am sorry for the way I treated you and the way I obviously hurt you, and I'm sorry that I led you on to begin with. I didn't mean to." Spike was about to interfere again, but Buffy held up her hand to quiet him. "Seeing you every day, at home and in school, so angry with me that you wouldn't even look at me – it hurt me too. Jeez, I sound like someone from a really bad soap opera," she sniffled, suddenly having tears in her eyes. "Anyway. When you got sick, I felt really bad, and then, after we made up… Willow and I talked, you know… And she – she made m–me realize…" She couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"Made you realize what, love?" Spike asked, putting a warm hand on her cheek, making her look at him.

God, he has beautiful eyes, she thought, why didn't I ever notice before?

"That – that I might… be in l-love with y-you," she whispered.

Tears were falling down her cheeks now, although she didn't know why. It wasn't sad; she was supposed to be happy!

She felt him put his arms around her, and saw him smile.

"Good, pet, because I just might be in love with you too," Spike said, before bending down and meeting her lips. It was just as soft and sweet and warm as she remembered it, but this time it was even gentler, because both knew what they were doing. He wasn't driven by pure lust this time and she, she knew she had made a choice. She was in love.

"Don't cry, love," Spike mumbled when they pulled apart. He stroke his hand carefully over her cheeks, wiping away tears.

"We should get out of here," Buffy said, though not letting go of Spike. "It's not the world's most romantic place," she continued, pointing at the tombstones and grinning slightly.

She had done it. She had told Spike that she was in love with him, and it felt so good. It was odd how things could change so suddenly. But maybe it hadn't been sudden at all. She had known him for almost eight months by now, and their relationship had changed a lot, going back and forth between hate and love. She could hardly remember what her life had been like before he had come to their house.

Being in love was the best feeling on earth, Buffy decided a couple of days later. The feeling of just being surrounded by love was amazing, like candy for her soul. Her friends noticed a change in her behavior too, saying that she seemed happier suddenly. Tara was the one who had established that she was in love, by seeing the change in her aura.

"Your a-aura is all pink and fuzzy," she'd told Buffy. "Are you i-in love?"

They had been at the magic box. Tara, Willow and Giles had been there, and Anya behind the counter. All four looked incredulously at her, Willow with a big grin.

"So, you told him?" the redhead had asked her.

Buffy had nodded, blushing. "Yeah, I did. Last night, when we were out patrolling."

"Cool," Anya had yelled, "Have you had sex yet?"

"Anya!" all four had cried. Buffy had gone even redder, thankful that no customers had been in the store at the time.

"So, you're t-together now?" Tara had asked, smiling a little.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Buffy had smiled back at her. She was happy.

The gang had reacted positively at the fact that Buffy now had a boyfriend, and they had all agreed that Spike was the best one she could have chosen. Giles was the only one who was slightly concerned, saying that, "Well, he is going back to England in just a couple of months, so I hope you know what you are doing."

"I'm not sure I know what I'm doing, Giles," Buffy had told him, "But I am happy with him, so just be happy for me, okay?"

Her Watcher had nodded and agreed. She could tell, he was happy for her.

It was probably because of Spike, Buffy guessed, that time seemed to speed up even more now. The hours in school seemed as long and tedious as ever, but it was the weeks that just tended to sweep by. April had gone by without any problems, another hundred vampires staked – she guessed – and thankfully no apocalypse seemed to be coming at them. No, instead of doing research about some horrible monsters, Buffy spent her time with Spike. They didn't sleep together, because Buffy didn't feel completely ready for it, and Spike – though maybe frustrated by the fact – understood and kept to sensitive, hot, sweet kisses instead.

"You know," he told her, "I might just be the happiest man on earth."

She giggled and kissed him, and he held her tight. "I love you," she whispered.

He buried his face in her hair holding her happily. "I love you too."

So her life went on. She had gotten used to it all by now, living with her mother and sister and not her father around. Therefor, she got the shock of her life when she came home from school one afternoon in the beginning of May, and her father sat on the couch in the living room with a suitcase by his feet.

"Dad!" she exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Um… Hi Buffy," he said tentatively.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked angrily, forcing herself to get over the shock of seeing him for the first time in months.

He didn't answer, he just looked uneasy.

"Get. Out. Of. Here."

"Buffy, please…"

"Don't go Buffy-ing me! You left like five months ago, and you haven't even called since, so don't come here and try to be the father again! Get out!"

She stormed off to her room, not wanting to see her father anymore. When she got to her room, she threw herself on the bed. Downstairs, she could hear Dawn come in about half an hour later, and her sister had an almost identical response to seeing her father again that Buffy had had. She yelled at him, Buffy could hear, and then she told him to go away. But instead of storming off to her room, Buffy heard the front door slam shut and she knew Dawn was heading for some friend of hers.

Buffy stayed in her room the rest of that afternoon, her door shut.

"Buffy?"

"Go away, Spike," Buffy told the person on the other side of the door.

As usual, her boyfriend didn't listen to her, and the door opened. She sat up and looked miserably at him. He came in and sat down on her bed, and held her close. Suddenly, Buffy started crying.

"How could he do that to me?" she sobbed. "How could he come back after all this time?"

"I don't know, love," Spike answered quietly, stroking her golden hair gently. "But he obviously wants to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to him," Buffy answered, leaning back so that she could look at Spike. "He left; he's not part of my life anymore."

"Buffy, love, he will always be part of your life, because he's your father. A sodden poofter he is, but he's still your dad."

"He was my dad. He stopped being one when he left. Spike, he hasn't even called! How can I ever forgive him for what he did to mom, and for what he did to Dawn and me?"

"I don't know, love, but somehow I think you need to try, because keeping all that hate inside can't be any good for anyone. You don't need to take him back into your life if you don't want to, just know that you're over hating him for leaving."

Buffy looked at him, her eyes still red from crying. "Since when have you become so smart?"

"Hey, I've always been smart, that you just didn't look bloody close enough before is not my fault," he said in a joking tone.

"Don't blame me for that, you were the one who put on the image of, 'the peroxide bleached my hair and melted my brain', not me."

"Now I'm hurt."

She giggled at his expression, where he tried to mix hurt and smiling in one. She kissed him. "Thanks for always being able to make me smile," she whispered.

"You're welcome. Now, should we go downstairs and face the wanker that is your father together with the Nibblet and your mum?"

"Yeah, let's do that."

They sat down like the last time they had all been together, with a few changes. They were sitting in the living room instead of around the kitchen table. Also, Buffy refused to let Spike out of sight, so he stayed, although he wasn't saying much.

To begin with, no one had said anything, then Hank had started explaining what had happened.

"I-I went to Palm Springs with – her."

"Do I have to listen to this?" Buffy muttered angrily, but she felt Spikes hand on her arm and she calmed down.

"She – she had an apartment there, so we lived there, mostly."

Joyce sat facing her ex-husband, staring at him. No other feeling than disbelief was apparent on her face.

"She kicked me out, yesterday," he told his former family.

Buffy and Dawn started talking at the same time, both screaming versions of, "And you went back here and hoped we would take you back?!"

Their mother finally quieted them, and said to Hank in a slow, low voice. "I don't know what planet you are from," she started, "if you think that you can leave, divorce me, for some stupid little blonde, and then come back to me when she has thrown you out."

She stood up, but Buffy's father cried out, "Joy, please…"

Joyce turned around again. "If the girls want to talk to you, then they are free to do so. As far as we go, we are as over as a couple can be. Good bye, Hank."

Buffy looked from her standing mother to her father, who was sitting with his head in his hands. Joyce left.

"Dad?" Dawn asked.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Don't call me that," Dawn said, her voice cold like ice. "Why did you come back?"

"Be-because I love you –"

"You know," Dawn interrupted, "You have a really weird way to show it. Leaving your family for five months usually doesn't cut it. I loved you, you know. I really, really loved you."

She followed her mother's footsteps and left. Only Spike and Buffy were left in the room, both staring at the man in front of them.

The man that once was my father, Buffy thought sadly. Another thought hit her.

"It wasn't the first time you had an affair, was it?" she asked coldly.

Hank's head shot up and guilt was written all over his face. "I remember," Buffy continued, "You and mom were fighting, when I was little. More than once. You left sometimes, and didn't come back until days later."

"Buffy, I'm sorry –"

"Save it. Spike here made me realize that I have to let it go and go on with my life." She kissed Spike's cheek.

"You – you aren't together, are you?" Hank stammered.

"Good guess, dad." She added the 'dad' with sarcasm in her voice. "We've been together for a month and counting."

"But – He's no good for you! He is rude and –"

"Since when is that your concern? I think I stopped counting your opinion sometime around November or December – yeah, right when mom told us you'd been having an affair. You have no say whatsoever of who I should date or not. C'mon, Spike."

She stood up and was on her way out of the room, but turned around and said her last words to her father. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

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