Buffy struggled half-heartedly, then stopped. She took several deep breaths and said, "Spike, would you please not mention Angel to me again?" She looked up into his dark eyes and saw...sympathy? No, that couldn't be it. She slowly sat up, and Spike let go of her wrists and sat back, saying nothing. Buffy's usual nervous reaction kicked in, and she started to fill the silence with whatever came into her head. "You see, I'm still sensitive about Angel -- wouldn't you be sensitive too, if you had to kill Dru, to save the world? And I think Willow tried the spell again, because he had his soul restored just before I had to kill him, but the portal had already opened up and it was getting bigger and I only had a minute to tell him I loved him before I had to kill him and send him to hell. So I kissed him and told him to close his eyes and then I shoved the sword into him to close the portal and yeah, Spike, you're right, I am a little sensitive when it comes to taking it." She had to pause for breath and closed her eyes, not wanting to see Spike's mocking expression.
Spike sat quietly for a few moments, digesting the story, and feeling his admiration for the slayer soar to new heights. He had known she was plucky, but hadn't known the depths of her courage. He realized that if Buffy hadn't stabbed and killed her love, the world would have ended. He touched her shoulder and she looked up miserably. "I suppose now's the wrong time for an apology?" He asked. She looked puzzled. "I mean, I went off and left you alone when Angel had you at swordpoint. I was pretty sure that you'd pull out of it and save the day, but maybe if I'd stayed and helped you wouldn't have had to kill him." He looked away, then looked back. "I'm sorry."
Buffy was stunned. Here was a vampire apologizing to her for not helping her kill another vampire. What on earth was going on? "Well, I, uh, I'm sorry about that crack about Drusilla." she managed to say.
Spike thought it high time to change the subject. He cleared his throat. "So, getting back to what you object to about me, we're down to breath and fashion. I'll have you know that I do have more than one outfit. I have several shirts, one coat, a few t-shirts, and six or seven pairs of trousers. It's not my fault that they're all the same color, now, is it? It's not like many people can see well enough in the dark to critique my sense of style before I kill them, is it? And for the breath thing. May I remind you that vampires don't need to breathe, except to talk? And smoke, of course. So, admit it, you made that up. You're just looking for excuses not to like me." He finished, grinning.
Buffy rolled her eyes and changed her tactic, going on the offense instead. "Well, what about you? Putting aside the fact that I'd like nothing better than to turn you into dust, what do you have against me?"
She was completely unprepared for his charmingly smiling reply. "Not a damn thing, luv."
The unwatched movie had long since ended by the time she left, but they had agreed that they would try the "trust test" that night. Spike gave Buffy permission to tell Giles where he was living, because he was aware that trusting the slayer also meant trusting her watcher. Also, it was another step in the process. Buffy left and went to the library, just in time to hear Xander and the others arguing about what was and wasn't going to happen between her and Spike.
"Do you feel you can trust him, Buffy?" asked Giles.
"Well, he could have had me for lunch this afternoon and didn't. Also, he could have killed me any night this week and didn't. It's a good start, I guess."
"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Xander said. "What's been going on 'any night this week,' Buff? Does this have anything to do with anything I might not want to know about?"
"Do you think he likes you?" Willow asked suddenly, leaning forward with a hopeful smile.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Will, he's a vampire."
Xander said, "Willow, that's sick. Perverse, even. How could you even think that?"
She ignored Xander and persisted. "But do you think he likes you?"
Buffy told her quietly, "Will, don't you think the rest of this conversation would be better finished somewhere else? Like in the girls' room?"
"Ooooo!" Willow squealed. "He does like you!"
"Willow!" Buffy hissed.
"Oh. Sorry."
Cordelia looked up from filing her nails. "Well, all I know is, I would have a problem going to bed with Spike. I mean, what if he has bad blood breath, or if the fangs get in the way of kissing? And what about that 'ho he used to hang out with? I wouldn't want Drusilla going after me in a jealous fit. I mean, look at what she did to Kendra when she didn't even know her!"
Not trusting herself to even make a reply, Buffy grabbed Willow's arm and started toward the door with her friend in tow. She looked back over her shoulder, said, "Giles, I'll call you later with the plan," and went out.
"Cordelia, at some point in the future, you might try exercising the slightest amount of tact in your dealings with other people," Giles suggested as he rubbed his eyes.
Cordelia shrugged. "What did I say?" Xander groaned and grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the room. Giles reflected that he should thank Xander later for that service. He looked up, realizing he wasn't alone yet. He still wasn't used to the newest member of their little club.
"Oz, uh... hello. What can I do for you?"
"Thought I might try that reading and research thing. If you'd like some help with that prophesy, that is. I mean, I did go to the trouble to learn how to read. Might as well use the skill sometime."
Giles' mouth quirked at the corners. "I appreciate the help. Thank you, Oz."
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