Note:  A big thank-you to <lj user="juliaabra"> for her wonderful beta assistance.
 

Ethan Rayne was hustled out of the cheap motel room, firmly handcuffed and surrounded by soldiers.  Buffy thought that Giles would have videotaped the event if a camera had been handy, he seemed so pleased.  Amazing how he could go from Fyarl demon to tenderly concerned and then highly amused in such a short space of time.

"Come on, Giles, show's over," Buffy nudged him towards the door.  "You must be tired from doing the Monster Mash all night."

"Very funny, Buffy."  Giles took a final look around the room, as if considering taking a souvenir, then shrugged and followed Buffy outside.

"So are you going to tell me what you did when you were all demon-y?  Besides terrorizing Maggie Walsh - I've already heard all about that one."

"Not sure I want to go into detail," he replied.  "It's not an experience I'd care to repeat.  It was as if I was becoming a Fyarl, thinking like a Fyarl.  If it wasn't for Spike..."

"Spike?  What's he got to do with it?"

"Well, you see, it turns out he speaks Fyarl, so he could understand what I was saying.  He was of considerable help tonight, actually."

"Wow.  Really?"

"Really.  Although I'll thank you not to tell him so."  Giles paused.  "Where are you headed now, Buffy?  I think I'm about done in."

"No problem.  I'll do a quick patrol, then head back to the dorm."

"All right, then."  Both of them looked around the motel parking lot.  "Neither one of us have a ride, do we?"

"Not me.  Riley drove me.  But I'll walk.  How'd you get here, anyway?"

"Spike.  Which means he still has my car..."

*****

Before she had reached even the nearest graveyard, Buffy spotted Giles' car, looking the worse for wear.  Practically totaled, she thought to herself.

She came closer and peered through the crumpled passenger door.  There was Spike, slumped over the steering wheel, apparently out cold.  She considered just leaving him there, but sunrise was only a few hours away, and he had helped Giles tonight.

"Spike, hey, wake up!"  she yelled, kicking the car for emphasis.  When he didn't respond, she went around to the driver's side and tugged open the door.  He didn't look hurt, except for some little cuts on his forehead.  He looked, well, peaceful.  Sleepy.  Kind of cute.

Buffy reached in and shook his shoulder gently, and then harder.  "Wakey wakey.  Time to rise and shine."

"Muh?  Go 'way.  Don't want any."

Don't want any what?  Buffy wondered.  Breakfast, maybe?  Didn't think he was expecting Cheerios.

Spike rubbed a fist against his eyes, and then lay back down over the steering wheel, resting his head on an arm.  Now he really did look sweet, Buffy thought.  Not that Spike would appreciate the sentiment.  No, he was all "I'm eevuul, don't you know?" and "here's the Big Bad."

Buffy crouched down and pulled his left arm over her shoulder.  "Upsy daisy, Big Bad.  Time to go."  She yanked him out of the car, and tried to get him to start walking.  No dice.  He must have hit his head pretty hard, she thought.  But there was no way this car was going to take them home, and she wasn't really interested in carrying him all the way back to, well, wherever it was she'd have to take him.  Wasn't he living in some crypt now?  Giles had told her where, she'd just have to remember.  Not like she hadn't already had a long night, or anything.  She sighed and lowered Spike back down onto the seat.

"Okay, Spike, you and I are going to have a little talk."  Buffy turned his face to hers, holding his chin.  Nice cheekbones, she thought.  Very nice cheekbones.  She ran her thumb along the side of his face.  Cool, smooth, and not completely white in this light, although pale was certainly accurate.  Okay, Buffy, you need to focus.  "Spike, I really don't want to hit you.  At least, not right now.  My knuckles still hurt from the fight with the Fyarl - I mean, Giles.  And clearly you're already more screwed up in the head than usual.  But you've got to wake up."

Nothing.  She sat down on the seat next to him, shoving him over a bit with her hip to make room, still keeping her hand on his face.  Maybe he really did have a head injury, she thought.  She brought her free hand around to his head, running her hand through his hair.  His face was now very close to her neck, and she shuddered for a moment as she thought about what he could do if he didn't have the chip.  She didn't find any wounds or bumps on his head, but she was a little distracted by his soft breath on her skin.  Why was he breathing?  Crazy vampire, didn't make any sense.

Buffy bent her head down and whispered into his ear.  "Spike?  You in there?"  Her lips brushed his cheek.  She shuddered again and realized it wasn't because she was worried about what Spike might do.  It was because she was worried about what she might do, what she wanted to do.  Because right now, she wanted to kiss him.  Kiss his cool lips, his smooth skin, his razor sharp cheekbones.  Wake him from his sleep with her warmth.  Make him open those blue eyes, gaze into her own, pull her into a passionate embrace.

"Ahem, um, well there, uh, Buffy?"

Buffy jumped, dropped Spike back onto the steering wheel, and slammed her own head against the roof of the car as she spun around.

"Giles!  What are you doing here?"  She wondered if her face was as red as Giles' was.  What had he seen?

"Just passing by, and, uh, saw you couldn't get Spike to stand up, thought you could use a hand."

If he saw her trying to get Spike walking, then he must have seen her kissing him too - wait, she didn't kiss him, did she?  No, she absolutely did not kiss him.  Yet.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Giles began.

"Interrupt?  What do you mean?  We weren't doing anything," Buffy protested.

"No, of course not," Giles stammered.  "He's obviously still out cold."  Giles met Buffy's eyes for a long moment, as the two of them pondered the ramifications of his statement.  "My lord, Buffy, what on earth were you doing with an unconscious Spike?"

"Trying to wake him up, of course,"  she said, aiming for perky.  There didn't seem to be any escaping this one, so she might as well breeze through it confidently and get it over with.  "Sleeping Beauty style.  And you did interrupt me, in fact.  I was just about to try it."  Buffy leaned in and gave Spike a quick peck on the cheek.  "Oh well, didn't work.  Any other ideas?"

Giles flushed even brighter red, if such a thing were possible.  "What?  You want to give it a try, too?"  Buffy joked, turning away from her watcher and tugging Spike's arm over her shoulder again.  "Help me out, Giles.  Between the two of us we should be able to drag him somewhere where he won't fry when the sun comes up."

******

His cheeks flaming, Giles responded by taking the vampire's other arm.  He couldn't believe what he had just seen.  Buffy had kissed Spike, as if it were nothing.  As if kissing an evil, undead monster were just a walk in the park.  As if you could do it on a whim.  He supposed she had done it before, with Angel, kissed his cold lips and caressed his cool skin.  Didn't she feel how wrong it was?  How deeply wrong it was to be attracted to a demon?  Didn't she know that this attraction signaled a fault in her very being?

Giles knew.  He knew it himself, knew she must feel it too.  Because every time he looked at Spike, every time he thought about those cool lips touching his own, he felt how deeply wrong it was, knew the fault in his very being.