A Ghost Of A Chance

by Saber ShadowKitten

Part Eight

"So, Spike couldn't tell me about you," Buffy said a little while later. "And here I thought he was just strange."

"Oh, he is," Nia said. "There's no doubt about that."

Buffy was pretty smart, to Nia's relief. By choice, she hadn't told the Slayer about the entire curse, just that Spike had killed her and now she haunted him. Buffy had figured out that was the reason he was helping her with slaying, why he got blood from the butcher's shop and why he seemed to be not all together upstairs. Nia didn't have the heart to tell her his elevator didn't go all the way to the top.

"Sometimes I wonder who has it worse -- him or me," Nia said with a grin.

"And you're with him all the time?" Buffy asked.

"No, I didn't spy on you two," she reassured her. Even if she couldn't read minds, what Buffy was asking was obvious. "I saw you come in and then I blocked everything out."

Buffy nodded, then twisted her hands nervously. "Um, you said you can read his thoughts..."

"Buffy, he was so flustered when he came out of the bedroom earlier, his mind flitted from one thing to another faster than a hummingbird," Nia said. "I know there's a word for something like that..."

"ADHD," Buffy supplied. "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, according to my psych book." She blushed. "I kinda suspected he had it, especially after spending every night with him for a month."

"Well, I'd better get back before he notices he's not being watched," Nia said. "Now that I know how to do it, you'll be able to see me when you get there."

"Um, Nia..."

"Yes, Buffy. He really wants you to come back," Nia told her, then she disappeared.


Spike really wanted Buffy to come back. He paced relentlessly in front of the empty fireplace, his left hand splinted and bandaged so it would heal correctly. The bottom three buttons on the black shirt he'd retrieved from the bedroom were buttoned lopsided and his hair was sticking up from him continuously trying to run a frustrated hand through it, only to forget that his left hand was bandaged. Nia was gone, he hoped for good, but he doubted it considering he wasn't a pacing dust pile.

He glared at the sun coming from behind the dark curtains for the umpteenth time. It was almost as if the sun were taunting him, stretching out the day so he couldn't go after Buffy and tell her...what? That he had lost control because he told her he loved her and he didn't know if her response was true or not? Or that he was being punished by a ghost and then be punished by that ghost for telling Buffy about the ghost? Or, to top it all off, he was out of fags?

"Are you still wound up?" Nia asked.

Spike started, his step faltering at the ghost's sudden appearance, but he picked it right back up. "Great, you're back," he growled unhappily. "Just what I bloody wanted."

Actually, he wanted a smoke and Buffy, not necessarily in that order. Although, he knew what to do with the smokes and not with Buffy, so maybe the original order was the better order. And he really wanted the sun to go down already before he went out of his ever-lovin' mind.

"You're already out of your mind," Nia commented.

"Bugger off."

"You do know that you're wearing a hole in the stone floor."

"I repeat, bugger off," he said. He needed Nia to shut up before he did something idiotic again, like break his other hand. If that happened, he wouldn't be able to touch Buffy's lush, soft skin or make her moan in delight as he ran his fingers along her inner thighs, unless he used his mouth. On second thought, maybe having both hands incapacitated wouldn't be such a bad thing. He could almost taste her hot, salty skin...

"Billy, if you're going to think X-rated thoughts, go lock yourself in your bedroom," Nia said. "You're broadcasting Skinamax wide-band."

Spike stopped pacing and glared at Nia. He tried to run a frustrated hand through his hair, but his peroxide locks got caught on the bandage. Dropping his hand, he stalked out of the room towards his bedroom.

He came to a halt outside of his closed door, hand on the knob, but he couldn't seem to turn it. He'd told Buffy he loved her in that room, which was even dumber than trying to punch a ghost. He shouldn't have said it, even though he knew it was true. It was too soon. It was too new. It was too cliche to say it at such a highly sexual moment. Was it too late to take it back? Was it too late to hope he had a cigarette hidden somewhere?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Spike swore. He forcefully opened the door, took one step in the room, smelled the heady scent of sex and candles, saw Buffy writhing under him on the bed, turned right back around and left.

The kitchen was always a good place to go. It had shiny surfaces. It had pots and pans and utensils. It had a refrigerator. It had a refrigerator that held containers of blood. It had a microwave. It had a microwave that was used to heat up the containers of blood. It didn't have Buffy laying on the counter with her legs spread, waiting for him to dip his tongue into her core and taste her juices. Although, her petite form would easily fit up there...

The kitchen wasn't a good place to go. Spike quickly went back into the main room and glared at the ghost still sitting on the couch. "This is all your bloody fault."

"Oh really?" Nia said.

Spike resumed pacing in front of the fireplace. "Yes. I don't want to love her."

"Why not?" Nia asked. "She's cute. She's pretty smart. She knows how to put you in your place. She has some great insults."

"Vampire's don't love humans," he stated firmly. Nia snorted and he glared at her. "They don't."

"You said 'they' instead of 'we,'" Nia pointed out. "Does that mean you're not a vampire anymore?"

"I am too a bleedin' vampire," he growled. His pacing became more rapid. "I am one of the most feared master vampires in the world. My death toll is staggering. My strength and skill is renown. Mortals quake in their puny shoes when they see me coming. Vampires, too. I've loved two Slayers, for bloody's sake!"

"Um, don't you mean you killed two Slayers?" Nia asked, trying to suppress her giggles.

"That's it, I don't care about the friggin' sun, I'm going to find the Slayer and tell her under no uncertain terms will I ever not love her." Spike punctuated his declaration with a firm nod of his head.

He took a few steps towards the curtain, then paused. He was going to tell her that he would ever not love her? Why didn't that make sense to him? Why was Nia almost falling off the couch in laughter? Why did he have to tell Buffy he loved her? Why was there someone knocking on the door?

"Are you going to answer the door, Billy, or are you going to continue ranting about how you're not a vampire who is not in love with the Slayer?" Nia asked.

Spike frowned and headed for the door to open it. His mouth dropped open when he saw who was on the other side. Or rather, when he saw who was on the other side looking so beautiful, his eyes hurt.

Buffy's head was ducked in shyness and she was looking up at him from under her long lashes. Her hair was loose, fanning around her face and glowing gold in the fading sunlight beyond the door. Her face was lightly flushed from memories and awkwardness. Her light yellow slip dress clung to her every curve and emphasized her sexy legs. Sexy, strong, wickedly wonderful legs that went all the way up to...

"Oh, you're hurt," Buffy said, taking his bandaged hand as he continued to stand there like a wanker with his mouth hanging open.

Spike closed it with a clack, but continued to stare at her like she was Venus herself. Her touch was gentle on his fingertips, which poked out of the top of the bandage, and he felt a sharp longing pierce through him to have that touch on places besides his broken hand.

"Is it painful?" she asked softly.

"You came back," Spike blurted in response. Now that wasn't too pathetic. "Er, I mean, I can explain. About earlier."

"Aren't you going to let me in first?" Buffy asked, an amused smile tilting up the corners of her mouth.

Spike wanted to kiss that smile. He wanted to run his tongue along her lips, the push his way inside to taste her and con her tongue into twining with his. He wanted to hold her up against him while he kissed her until she went weak in his arms from the pleasure. He wanted to...

"Are you going to let the poor girl in or not?" Nia called over to him. Buffy giggled.

"Right, er, come in," Spike said, stepping back from the door. Doing so caused her to let go of his injured hand and he immediately felt bereft. He was such a nancyboy. He was turning into Angel. The irony of that thought hit him. He was turning into his 'father.'

With a mental groan, he shut the door behind Buffy. He so did not want to turn into his sire. Angel was a pathetic excuse for a vampire, all mopey and broody. He didn't have a single, good witticism and had left the Slayer. What kind of moron does that? Spike would have stuck around, just so as no one else could touch the sweet piece of femininity and power that was his woman. No sir, he wouldn't take a single step out of Sunnydale unless Buffy was by his side. No curse was going to prevent him from loving the Slayer.

"It's not," Nia informed him. "You'll have to excuse the blank look in his eyes, Buffy." She tapped the side of her head. "The house is lit, but no one is home."

"Oh, I knew that long ago," Buffy replied.

Spike's mouth dropped open again. "You...her...she...I..."

"I am so proud of Billy. Today he learned what a pronoun was," Nia said in a motherly voice.

"He's kinda cute all fershimmeled," Buffy said, giving Spike an impish grin. She reached forward and tugged at his lopsided shirt.

Spike was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Buffy not only knew about Nia, she could see and hear the ghost, as well. He felt as though he took a pisser during a picture and missed the pivotal scene. It didn't help that Buffy was so damn gorgeous that his other head was rapidly taking over his thinking.


He really was adorable, with his shirt buttoned wrong, his hair sticking up and a confused expression on his face. He was always so perfect in his cocky and arrogant way, which made how he was now all the more endearing. Buffy had thought she had fallen for him before, but now she was certain. Her heart felt like it was going to burst from the wonder and joy caused by being in love again. A thought entered her mind. She felt the same as those few precious weeks she'd had with Angel, between the time the blond in front of her had kidnaped him and her seventeenth birthday.

She couldn't help the silly smile that crossed her face and she dropped her head. Here she was, going on nineteen, in love with the vampire who tried to kill the vampire she used to love. "Love makes you do the wacky," she said quietly.

Raising her head, Buffy met Spike's blue eyes and saw that confusion had given way to a softness that made her stomach flip-flop. His non-bandaged hand came up and brushed the side of her cheek before pushing back into her hair.

"Then I must be certifiable," Spike murmured. Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

Buffy sighed and slid her arms around his lean waist. She felt his other arm move around behind her and she was pulled closer to him. The evidence of his desire was pressed against her abdomen and she could feel a small vibration against her breasts as he made soft purring noises. She knew from experience that the sound was associated with a vampire's happiness when emitted unconsciously. Angel had purred on occasion and she'd wager that Drusilla had, as well.

It didn't bother her that Spike had loved Drusilla intensely, just as she hoped it didn't bother Spike that she had loved Angel with equal passion. The experience had helped her to learn about life and love and desire, and she wouldn't trade it for anything. Certainly, she would have spent her life with Angel if it were possible, but it wasn't meant to be.

Now she was being given the opportunity to love someone else and she was going to grab the reigns with both hands and hang on tight. She was sure loving Spike would be quite a thrill ride.

Spike broke away from her mouth to kiss down her throat as she lifted her chin for him. When he moved towards the side of her neck, she dropped her head to the side, baring herself in a way that showed her trust in him. Like it did in the music store, his purr got louder for a moment, then settled back into its pleasing softness as he ran his tongue over her pulse-point.

She felt herself being lowered to the hard floor, and anticipation and arousal shot through her. Soon she would be touching his firm body, tasting his salty skin, feeling him fill her...


Buffy's eyes shot open and she saw Nia standing beside them. The ghost waggled her fingers. "Hi, remember me?"

"Bloody hell," Spike growled in Buffy's ear. "I hate that ghost."

"And I love you, too, Billy-goat," Nia said. "However, I figured neither of you wished to greet our guests in such a...revealing manner."

"Guests?" Spike asked, standing up and pulling Buffy back to her feet.

"A great car is pulling up the drive," Nia said. "Complete with blacked-out windows."

"You don't think..." Buffy exchanged a look with Spike. "Angel?"

"Let's see, I was having a perfect moment and it was interrupted," Spike said, striking a thoughtful pose. "Since it wasn't Nia the Peeping Thomasina..."

"Hey," Nia scowled.

"...It could only be my trotting sire," Spike finished. He looked at the candle and flower petal path and sighed. "Nia, be a luv and make all this poof, will you?"

"And here I thought you'd want to rub it in," Nia commented, waving her hand. A bowl filled with the flower petals appeared on the coffee table and the candles disappeared, leaving no trace of the path that had been on the floor.

He shook his head. "Some moments are much too personal to share."

Buffy could have been knocked over with a feather at his reply. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she stared at him with disbelief.

Spike caught her look and chuckled. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Do you want to stick around, pet, and tell the sod about us, or would you rather wait?"

"Ok, he looks like Spike," Buffy said to Nia. She reached out and ran her fingers over his chest. "And he feels like Spike..."

"Ha, ha, Slayer," Spike said, capturing her hand. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "It's up to you, luv."

Buffy didn't know how to answer. On one hand, she wanted to shout her new-found love from the rooftops. On the other, she didn't want to hurt Angel. She also didn't want things to be uncomfortable between them. If Angel was in Sunnydale, there had to be an important reason, and she would need to work with him without problems.

"Let's wait, ok?" Buffy said. "If it is Angel, he has to be here because something big is going down, and I'd rather not have-"

"Say no more, ducks," Spike interrupted. "I understand."

"That's a first," Nia said.

"Sod off," he told the ghost.

"Nia, will you check and see if it is Angel?" Buffy asked. Nia nodded and vanished as she turned to Spike. Lifting her hands, she ran her fingers through his hair, straightening it, then went to work on his shirt.

"There," she said, patting the last button. "All fixed."

She raised her gaze and saw that he was looking at her strangely. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Fuck," Spike swore softly.

"O-k," Buffy said, touching her face with her hands. "Something tells me that's not a good thing."

"Bloody fucking hell," Spike cursed again quietly, pressing his non-bandaged hand over hers on her cheek. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her mouth, then whispered against her lips, "I love you."

"It's Angel and some leggy brunette," Nia reported, appearing beside them. They jumped apart in surprise, then glared at her. "Um, oops. Sorry."

"Yeah, right," Spike growled at her. He sighed and brushed a kiss across Buffy's forehead. "I'll see you later, luv."

Buffy frowned at him. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to find out why Angel's here."

"But I thought you wanted to wait?" Spike said.

"I do," Buffy replied. "But that doesn't mean that I can't be here. You are my friend, too, you know."

"Oh," he said.

"As you can see, Billy has perfected the art of public speaking," Nia commented.

"Stop calling me Billy," Spike growled.

Buffy giggled and moved to sit on the couch. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Spike muttered something about the kitchen and headed in that direction at a quick clip.

"Remember, Buffy," Nia said, sitting down beside her. "Only you and Spike can see and hear me."

"Right," Buffy said. "Wouldn't want Angel to think I'm as strange as Spike."

"No one is as strange as Billy," Nia said.

"True," Buffy agreed.

Nia grinned, then glanced over her shoulder at the doors. "Here they come."

Part Nine

Buffy expected to feel awkward or heartbreak or sadness when Angel entered the mansion. Instead, she was having a very hard time not laughing. It didn't help that Nia was giggling like a maniac on the couch beside her, tempting her to join in.

The expression on Angel's face was what had done her in. She had never seen him so surprised before. One time she'd startled him pretty decently, but the look on his face then was nothing like the look on his face when he came through the door, followed by Cordelia. If she had a camera, she would have taken his picture to commemorate the moment.

"Buffy?" Angel said, dropping his bag inside the door.

"Hi, Angel," Buffy greeted, her voice full of mirth.

"I can't believe you're hanging around the mansion, Buffy," Cordelia said, brushing past the still stunned Angel to enter the main portion of the large home. "Pathetic much?"

"It's so nice to see you, too, Cordelia," Buffy said sarcastically.

"Whatever," Cordelia said. "Angel, what room is mine? I so need to get out of these clothes."

"Any of them," Angel said absently. He continued to stare at Buffy as Cordelia headed for the hallway that led to the many bedrooms. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you again, too, Angel," Buffy said.

"It's always nice to see you, Buffy," Angel said, giving her a slightly sheepish look. He picked up his bag and headed over towards her.

"Damn, what is it with vampires looking so sexy?" Nia commented. "I'm surprised there are any females left alive on earth."

Buffy tittered quietly. Angel set his bag by the master bedroom doorway and turned to her with a confused look. She smiled at him and patted the couch. "Come talk to me. What dragged you all the way from LA back to this black hole?"

As Angel moved to take a seat on the other couch, which was perpendicular to the one where she was sitting, she felt the pang she expected when he'd first walked in. But it wasn't a harsh hurt, like in the early weeks, when she felt as though her heart was bleeding. Instead, it was a sweet pang of memories and of first love, of things that had been and of a future that was never meant to be. It probably would have been worse if a certain peroxide-blond vampire hadn't come into her life.

"Oh no," Nia suddenly said. Buffy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and saw her disappear.

"We're following a sorcerer," Angel said, unaware of the ghost or her sudden departure. He leaned forward on the couch and rested his forearms on his knees. "Now, what about you? Why are you here?"

"I came to visit the current resident," Buffy replied, truthfully. She had also returned to feel Spike's hard body pressed against hers, but Angel didn't need to know that.

"Current resident?"

"'Allo, Angel," Spike greeted, sauntering into the room. Gone was the flustered, mussed-up, tender man she loved from a few minutes ago. In his place was the cocky, arrogant vampire she knew and loved just as much. She noted that his left hand was no longer bandaged and wondered why.

"Spike," Angel practically growled.

"Angel, I think someone is using the mansion for sex." Cordelia's voice reached them before the brunette entered the room. "Recent sex, too, unless there's a new air freshener I don't want to know about."

Nia trailed in behind Cordelia. "I tried to get there first, but I was too late. Sorry,"

Buffy's eyes widened, and her gaze went from Cordelia to Spike. She refused to look at Angel, to see the questions, recriminations and hurt in his brown eyes. She didn't want him finding out about her and Spike like this.

Spike met her gaze with no reaction to Cordelia's announcement and smirked. "A man's got needs you know, Slayer. You didn't expect me to be a monk as well as a saint."


Spike was proud of his quick thinking. He was also proud of his control, even though he was itching to brag to Angel that he was pretty sure he was the love in Buffy's life and he was definitely the one to make her writhe and gasp in pleasure as he loved her body. He was looking forward to when they did tell his sire, just to see the look on Angel's face. He had a feeling it was going to be priceless.

He tapped his fingers of his right hand absently against his leg. His thoughts weren't as skittish as they were earlier. Buffy's return and Angel's arrival helped to bring him back down to normal. Well, as normal as he'd ever be. He had a brief thought. What if he was the normal one and everyone else was off?

"Trust me, Billy, it's just you," Nia commented.

Spike rolled his eyes and looked over at the brunette. "Did you enjoy snooping through my things, ducks?"

"Please," Cordelia said disdainfully. "Do not even attempt to go there."

Spike noticed that she wasn't even wary of him as she walked over and sat on the couch next to Angel. That gave him a pause. She should have at least looked a little fearful.

"I hate to tell you this, Billy," Nia said. "You're about as scary as a shorn sheep."

Buffy dropped her head and covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a giggle. Spike ignored both females in his life and turned his attention back to his sire. "I take it I'm going to have house guests?"

Angel frowned, looking back and forth between Spike and Buffy. "It's my house, not yours, and is there something I should know?"

"Spike's good now," Buffy informed Angel.

"Buffy says to tell you 'in more ways than one,'" Nia said to Spike.

A cocky grin spread over his face and he glanced down at the Slayer. He couldn't believe she was teasing him with Angel right there. He couldn't believe how ridiculously happy that made him feel. He couldn't believe how well he could see down her top.

"Since when?" Angel asked skeptically.

"Since he has been," Buffy replied. "Now, tell us more about this sorcerer. Should we worry?"

She leaned forward slightly, preparing to listen, and her yellow slip dress gaped further out, giving Spike quite a perfect view of the top swells of her breasts. They rose and fell with each breath she took and he found himself purposely inhaling and exhaling with her. His trousers became uncomfortably tight in the front and he was glad he was wearing a longer dress shirt.

He ripped his gaze away from her cleavage and found himself looking up into a pair of amused brown eyes, a sculpted brow arched mockingly. He played it up and shrugged at Cordelia. He was male, therefore, he could look when opportunity presented itself. Not that he had any desire to look at anyone else's breasts but Buffy's, and he'd much prefer Buffy's to be uncovered.

"Billy, you'd better get your other head in gear," Nia said. "They're talking about saving lives now. You remember, that thing you're suppose to do?"

Spike pulled himself back into the conversation, glad for once of the ghosts presence. He had no desire to see those perfect breasts get marred in any way and to prevent that, he'd better pay attention. Then later, when they were alone, he'd give them the attention they deserved.

"You are a sick, sick vampire," Nia commented. "Just how are you planning on getting Buffy's boobs off of her? Don't you think she'd protest?"

Buffy slowly turned her head and looked up at Spike. He gave her a sheepish grin, lifted his right hand slightly and flicked Nia off. He took back his gratitude for the ghosts presence.

"At least you know what this guy looks like," Buffy said, shaking her head slightly and returning her gaze to Angel.

"You don't know the things I had to do to get a look at him," Cordelia complained. "I had to wear ruffles! In public!"

"But we don't know the extent of his magickal abilities," Angel said, ignoring Cordelia. "Or if he's really that dangerous or not."

"Well, we can assume since he came to the good ol' Hellmouth, he's got something up his sleeve," Buffy said. "No one just comes here for a visit."

"What about Spike?" Cordelia asked. "Why did he come back?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Angel said, leaning back on the couch in a deceptively casual pose.

Spike resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at his sire. Barely. "I came back because I got roped into helping the Slayer."

"And to look down her top," Nia added. Buffy shot Spike an evil glare and leaned back on the couch, pulling her dress against her. Nia laughed.

"Oh really?" Angel said, dark brow raised.

"Yes, really," Spike said in an exaggerated, mocking manner.

"Now, why don't I believe you?" Angel asked.

"Because you're about as smart as belly-button lint," Spike replied.

Buffy went to smack his leg with the back of her hand, but instead hit his broken hand, which was resting lightly on his left leg. He hissed in pain, his teeth clenching together as he willed himself not to move and show any weakness in front of Angel. He was through with being mocked as the lesser vampire in his sire's eyes. Buffy, however, didn't know a thing about being a male.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she said, reaching out to touch his hand gently. Her hit, although light, had been strong enough to knock the bones of his pinkie out of line. She stood and took his arm. "Come on. We need to splinter that back up."

"Slayer, it's fine," Spike said between his clenched teeth.

"I don't see why you took it off to begin with," Buffy continued, tugging on his arm. "I can't have my slaying partner disabled..."

It was the wrong thing to say. With a growl, Spike stood and pushed her away. "I said it was fine, Slayer. I don't need your bloody help or your sympathy, so shove off."

Buffy stared at him, her beautiful eyes filled with hurt and the beginnings of tears. "Fine. Sorry for giving a damn." She lifted her head proudly and headed for the front door. "I'm going on patrol. Angel, meet me at Giles' in a little while so we can discuss this sorcerer."

Spike watched her leave, a feeling of helplessness engulfing him. The door closed with a silent click, but it might as well have been slammed. He stared at the door for a moment, then turned on his heel and stormed back to his room.

Nia was standing in front of his door. "I don't have the patience for this, woman," he growled at the ghost.

"You have got to be the biggest jerk I have ever known," Nia told him.

"She treated me like a bloody invalid in front of-" Spike clamped his mouth shut and reached through the ghost to grab the doorknob.

"So this is a penis thing," Nia said.

"Sod off," he growled. He opened his door and walked through her, then stopped when the smell of the room hit him. Despite what had just happened, he became immediately aroused. He ground his teeth together and stalked purposely to his dresser. He struggled to open the drawer one handed. "Bloody fucking hell."

"If you weren't such a typical male, Buffy could have helped you," Nia commented, hovering outside of the open door.

"Would a bloody typical male be trying..." He trailed off and slammed his good hand on top of the dresser. "Damn it, Nia, can you fucking help me?"

"Not on your unlife," Nia said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

"I'm going to go after her, you dumb chit, and explain," he snapped.

"Yell at yourself often, Spike?"

Spike looked over at the doorway and saw Angel standing where Nia had been. "Go to hell, Angel. Again." He turned back to the dresser and began to struggle with it again.

Angel walked into the room. "Cordelia was right. It smells like a brothel in here."

"Then get the fuck out," Spike growled. He got one side of the drawer open, but the angle prevented the other side from sliding out. Angel sighed and pushed him none-too-lightly out of the way, then opened the drawer for him. He glared at his sire, then grabbed a pair of jeans and tossed them on the unmade bed. He shoved the drawer closed with his hip, walked over to the side of the bed and knelt awkwardly on the floor to get a small gym bag out from under it.

When he stood back up and saw Angel still standing there, he snarled, "What the bloody hell do you want already?!"

"I didn't believe a single word about you helping Buffy," Angel stated. "I'll be watching you."

Spike shoved his jeans, as well as the t-shirt he'd grabbed off of the chair in the corner of the room, into the bag one-handed, then picked it up. Without a word, he stalked past Angel, down the hall and to the kitchen. There, he shoved the splints and bandages into the bag, grabbed his car keys off the counter and left the mansion.


Continued 1