“Say no more, I’ll be right there,” she said.

“But, Buffy, wait,” her mother said. “I… I do want you to come. But I’d also like you to spend the night because… because I invited him to do the same.” Buffy honestly didn’t know how to react to that. “Huh?” “Buffy, he’s in a bad way,” her mother said earnestly. “He showed up on my doorstep all beaten and bloody… and there’s a hole in the back of his shirt, too, like someone shot at him. He explained all about the chip, and that everyone’s hunting him down right now, humans and demons alike, and he didn’t have anywhere else to go…” “So?” Buffy demanded. “It’s Spike, Mom!”

“I know, and I know he’s dangerous, which is why I’d feel more comfortable with you in the house…” “You know what would be even more comfortable? Not having him there at all!” “But… didn’t you and Mr. Giles let him in? On Thanksgiving? He needed help then and you gave it to him, so why is this any different?” “Because…” but Buffy figured it’d be pretty rude to point out that her mother was alone, and a woman, and sans superpowers. She sighed. “Fine, whatever. So he’s leeching off my mom now. I’m on my way.” “Buffy,” her mother said seriously. “I don’t want you to throw him out.” Buffy raised her eyes to the ceiling, and whimpered, “Why do I get the weird vampires?” “Promise?” her mother asked.

“Is he making you say that?” Buffy asked drily.

“He doesn’t even know I’m calling you,” her mother said. “He isn’t making me do anything. He’s… he’s really not doing so well, Buffy. Mentally, I mean.” “Yeah, it’s all that peroxide, probably.”

Her mother was silent, and then said, “I think he’s a very unhappy young man.” “He’s not young, though. Or a man.” “But he is unhappy.” Well. Yeah. That wasn’t exactly surprising, she supposed. And Spike was always full of so much life and energy… even when he’d been moaning over Drusilla he’d done so passionately. She didn’t know exactly what her mother was having to contend with right now, but if the thought of him as anything but cocky and annoying was giving her the wiggins…

“I’m on my way,” she said again, and set the phone down.

Willow stirred, and mumbled, “Something the matter?” “I’m just going back to my house,” Buffy said. “Mom wants me to stay the night, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Mmkay,” Willow said, and was asleep again.

As she hurried back home, Buffy was suddenly struck with the thought that she’d forgotten all about her Riley problems, if only for the duration of that phone call. And now she was irritated at both Spike and her mother for pulling her focus away from him. Even though she knew she couldn’t do anything for Riley right now. 

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Riley was in some hospital bed right now, alone and vulnerable and unsure of his place in the world, and he had nothing to hold onto. He needed Buffy.

And instead Buffy was going to babysit the vampire that had somehow gotten on her mom’s good side.

She stopped for a moment once she was outside her front door, and took a breath, mentally bracing herself for whatever version of Spike she’d find inside. Interactions with Spike were always a brain teaser, it seemed like, because you never knew who you were going to get. 

So, maybe not like a brain teaser. He was more like a box of chocolates.

Who teased your brain and left you feeling very confused after every single interaction with him.

She finally pushed open the door, and stopped and stared, because lying on the couch was definitely the nutty chocolate from the box.

And he wasn’t nearly as depressed as her mother had indicated.

The couch was lined with sheets and pillows, and Spike himself was sitting up, wrapped in a blanket, with his boots neatly lined up by the door and his coat hanging on a hook. He was holding a mug in his hand, looking entirely too cozy for someone who was evil and dead and in her house, and he just smiled pleasantly at her as she came in.

“Evening, Slayer,” he said, and sipped his drink, eyes dancing with delight from over the edge of his mug.

Whatever was going on, he was enjoying how angry this was probably going to make her.

Well, she wouldn’t play up to that. She sat down primly in the chair across from him, and folded her legs, placing her hands in her lap. “Hello, Spike,” she said, just as pleasantly. “Comfy?” “Very,” he said, smiling again. 

“Oh, Buffy, you’re here,” her mother said, coming in from the kitchen. “Good.” “Are you sure you needed me?” Buffy asked. “Because it kinda looks like you guys have been having a grand old time playing sleepover.”

Spike choked on his drink then, and chuckled silently, but her mother just said, “Well, I just… wanted you around before I went up to bed. I’m not sure what to do with a vampire houseguest.”

“You did just fine, Joyce,” Spike said, giving her a polite smile. “I’m very much obliged.”

“You’re okay then?” she asked. “You don’t need anything else?” “Nothing the Slayer can’t provide,” Spike said, leering at Buffy and winking.

“Oh, I know exactly what to do with vampire houseguests,” Buffy said sweetly. “And he’s right, I can provide it.” 

She pulled out a stake, and Spike choked on his drink again, before looking back up at her mother with pleading eyes. “You won’t let her hurt me, will you, mum?” he asked, and Buffy wanted to punch his daylights out for the vulnerable and coaxing tone he put on. He was so full of it, and he blinked innocently at her when she glared at him.

“Don’t worry, I already told her not to harm you,” her mother said. “Actually, all you said was that I couldn’t throw him out,” Buffy said. “Staking isn’t technically throwing him out.” “What about when you have to clean up my ashes, Slayer? Seems to me like that would involve some throwing.” “Fine,” Buffy said. “Then I just won’t ever get rid of them. I’ll sweep you under the rug, and you can stay there forever.” “Or you could get me one of those fancy urns,” Spike offered. “Have it inscribed real nice, and set it on your mantelpiece. It’ll be like I’m glaring down at you for the rest of your life.”

It didn’t take much for him to annoy her, and Buffy knew he was trying to push her, trying to get her to lash out so Spike could hide behind her mother’s skirt and watch smugly as Buffy was reprimanded.  But to her surprise– and Spike’s too from the look on his face— her mother just laughed, and said, “I forgot how well you two get along. I’ll see you in the morning. Try and keep the noise down, okay?”