Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I just like playing with them.

1. A Place To Stay

Spike hesitated outside the Magic Box as he passed it on his way back to the crypt. The lights were still on even though there was a CLOSED sign on the door, and he could see Anya moving around in the back of the shop. 'Cleaning up after us,' he supposed, noticing that there was a very good view of the table from where he was standing. 'Huh. Wonder if any passerby caught the free show?'

He quickly shrugged off the thought, not really caring. Couldn't have done any more damage than the *Scoobies* catching them, after all.

Spike was about to walk away when Anya turned and caught sight of him standing outside the window. She gave him a small smile, which he returned with a nod, then backtracked a few steps to the door and opened it, stepping into the shop. "Hello, Anya," he said.
"Hi, Spike," she replied, fidgeting with her hands.
"I... um... do you need some help? Cleaning up?" he asked.
She looked around. "Yes. That would be nice. You helped to make the mess after all."
"Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
They stood awkwardly for a moment before Spike moved to the table. "What should I do? Looks like you've got it mostly under control." He gestured to the chairs and bench, which were now standing upright, and to the pile of broken glass in the garbage can.
Anya motioned to the bottle of Lysol and rags sitting on the counter. "You can wipe off the table. There's still some JD and..." she grimaced "... on it."
He raised an eyebrow, grabbing the cleaner and a rag. "Ah," he said. "Remnants."
She let out a soft laugh. "Yes. Remnants."

Spike sprayed a generous amount of the berry blossom-scented mist over the wooden surface and began rubbing at it vigorously, taking care not to leave streaks. The two of them worked in silence for several minutes, neither knowing what to say about what happened earlier or how the other would react if it was brought up. Anya focused intently on her mopping and Spike on his disinfecting, until finally all the cleaning was done.

They stood and surveyed their work for a moment before turning to each other and exchanging another awkward smile.
"So," Anya offered.
"So," Spike replied.

Silence. Then:

"Anya..."
"Yeah?"
"Where are you planning on staying tonight?"
She thought for a moment. "I really don't know. I was planning on staying in the apartment when I came back, but that obviously won't be happening now. I guess I could check into the Sunnydale Inn or sleep here."
Spike nodded. "Yeah. Or you could stay with *me*, if you like."
Anya gave him a surprised look. "That's very nice of you, but I don't think it would be a good idea for us to have sex again. It would just--"
Spike shook his head. "No! No, that's not what I meant," he told her. "I mean you can stay in my crypt until you find a more permanent place to live. It's not much, and I don't have a proper bed since the sodding Soldier Boy came and blew it up, but I'm sure we could figure something out."
The look of loneliness on his face registered with her suddenly, and she felt inclined to agree. "All right," she said. "We could both use the company, anyway. Let me get my purse and then we can go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike tossed the last of his pillows onto his bier and turned to Anya. "There you go, pet. All set for sleeping in. Or *on*."
She smiled. "Thank you, Spike. I appreciate it."
He shrugged. "'S no problem. Least I could do after... well, messing things up for you even more."
She shook her head. "No. I was as much a part of it as you were. Sex generally involves *two* people, after all."
He returned her smile. "Generally. So no grudges then?"
"Of course not," she assured him. "Well, unless..." Her voice trailed off.
He frowned. "Unless what?"
Her smile was replaced by a tentative expression. "Did you mean what you said? About not biting me and all that other stuff? Or were you just drunk?"
He widened his eyes in a show of sincerity. "I meant it all, Anya. Every bit of it."
She nodded. "Good. Because I don't think I could take any more lies from men today."
"I understand," he told her. "Do you... do you regret what we did?"
She thought for a moment. "I... I don't know. The kissing was nice. The orgasm was *really* nice. But the way I felt afterward wasn't so nice."
He looked down. "Yeah. I know what you mean." They were silent for a moment. "I still love Buffy, you know," Spike said to her.
She nodded. "Yeah. And I still feel something for Xander. Evil cretin that he is."
Spike let out a quiet laugh. "It's hard to just turn off your feelings. You can't stop loving some people, no matter *how* many times they hurt you."
"I know," she said. "And no matter how *much* they hurt you."

More silence.

"Well," Spike finally offered. "I should get some sleep if I'm gonna head off the hangover I see looming on the horizon."
"Yeah, I still have to go to the shop tomorrow. Sleep would be useful."
He nodded. "'Night, then, Anya," he said. "If you need anything just yell." He turned to head across the crypt to his easy chair.

Anya caught his arm before he could make it two steps.

"Spike..." she said. "I just want you to know that I *didn't* mean what I said."
He shot her a confused look. "About what?"
She shifted slightly beneath the blankets. "About you just being there. You weren't. You helped me."
He gave her a soft smile, touched by her explanation. "'S all right, pet. Didn't think much of it anyway. You sleep tight, now."
She nodded. "I will. Good night."

Anya watched as Spike walked to his chair and laid back in it, sprawling out onto the ottoman. She pulled the covers up over her head and inhaled deeply. 'God, I love the way he smells,' she thought, before drifting into a confused sleep.

TBC...