The wind was swirling around her new boots as Buffy pulled her coat tighter around her, hurrying home. She hated winter, ever since moving to California. Sunny Sunnydale always had a mysteriously hot Christmas (except that one time it snowed) and Los Angeles was just freezing. It brought Buffy down, not that that was hard these days. The slayer was certain she was turning into a grumpy old woman. Even the crowds at the shopping center irritated her. For some unknown reason, people were too self-absorbed in their own Christmas shopping to notice that other people were actually trying to buy things and couldn't get around their oversized backsides. Occasionally Buffy wished she could juts use her slayer strength to throw people out of her way. But whenever that urge kicked in, she could hear Giles tutting away in her head, so she never acted upon it.

The door locked behind her with a satisfying click and it did not take long for the fire to be crackling away. Buffy threw her coat haphazardly onto one of the sofas and stretched, happy to be home. The boots were kicked off and a book was grabbed. The slayer curled up on the rug in front of the fire, content to just read for the rest of the evening, at least until Dawn got home. She glanced up at the clock and sighed. Actually, dinner needed to be cooked before Buffy could lie down and have some time to herself. With a huff, she clambered back to her feet and padded wearily into the kitchen, the cold lino making Buffy wish she'd put slippers on before. Just as some food was on, cooking steadily away for a delicious dinner, there was a knock at the door. Another glance at the clock. It was after dark but still, too early for Dawn to be home. She'd be out with her friends this evening.

Who could that be? Buffy wasn't expecting visitors. Cautiously, she picked up a stake, hiding it behind her back as she answered the door. Hello.

The winter months had never really seemed to bother Spike. Even when he had been alive, he had almost seemed to prefer the cooler weather. He had been doing a lot of thinking lately; probably more than he had in a while, if he was completely honest, and had come to a very alarming conclusion. If he was being completely honest with himself, it would seem that pretty much his entire life had been indirectly influenced by a girl, or rather, several. Hell, he had died because one of them had been too much of a self-involved bitch to bother giving him a chance. He couldn't even count on one hand the number of times he had wondered how things might've been different if she had been more open-minded. Ah, but that was just the way things were done, back when he was alive the first time. Of course, that hardly mattered now. His solution to that shitty situation, of course had been to follow yet another beautiful woman. And everyone pretty much knew how that brilliant move had turned out.

So why was he here now? The answer, quite obviously, was because of yet another woman. One would have thought that Spike had learned his lesson. But then, Spike had never really been one of the great thinkers of the world. William had been different. William was naive, and more than willing to believe in all the good and wonderful things of the world. But Spike... he knew that good things just didn't happen to good boys. He had embraced that knowledge, and then proceeded to spend the vast majority of his second life being as rotten as inhumanly possible. That didn't mean his thoughts didn't still wander toward that first girl from time to time; hell, he probably owed her a lot for leading to his marvelous transformation into the thing he had become. But naturally, that wasn't something that his new gang would appreciate hearing about. Then again, they hardly had any right to pass judgment. Rolling his eyes, he pushed that train of thought right out of his mind. He no longer cared what Drusilla and her precious Angel did in their spare time.

Once again, he found himself chasing after yet another girl; a blond this time. As though that might have somehow made a difference. Honestly, she was just another in a long line of women who seemed to enjoy toying with him and making his unlife a living hell. But then, he pretty much lived for that, didn't he? Shrugging, the peroxided vampire made his way up to the door and knocked. He even had the decency to stand and wait until the house's eldest occupant came to see who it was. There had been a time when he would just barge right in, but somehow, he just didn't feel like it this time. There was still that messy business of wondering what might happen if this particular woman ever found out everything he'd been up to in her absence from making his life miserable. Now, wouldn't that be a trip? Well, he had no intention of being forthcoming with that information just yet, so he would just have to wait and see.

The men in Buffy's life had never been great. Before she'd been called Buffy had been one of those "popular" cheerleaders, who'd do anything to make sure they were dating only the coolest guys. Then she met Pike, who she totally misjudged. He, in the end, left because he felt he hindered her more than supported her AND he told all her friends about Las Vegas when she told him not to. Then came Angel, the former love of her life who ended up leaving because they couldn't be together and totally turned her life upside down. Reilly wasn't exactly the best choice. Basically, the men in her life had never really been there for her, not even her father. The only ones who had, in Buffy's eyes, were Xander (but he was like her brother) and Spike - who had also been so obsessed with her he'd stalked her. Talk about a great selection.

Still, she hadn't really seen Spike more than once since the big battle. That time had been the in middle of the day and he'd seemed half mad and she wasn't even sure what was wrong with him. It didn't help to calm her nerves when she opened the door and was staring down those deep blue eyes of his. Her grip on the stake behind her back tightened. Vampires weren't usually to be trusted, although Spike had proven to be mildly trustworthy over time. Hello Spike She repeated, slowly this time, wary of his reaction. He was able to come into the house, could even snap her neck if she wasn't cautious. Didn't expect to see you back here.

Even though there was that fear of Spike, hell there always would be a fear of any vampire, she felt a bit silly letting him just stand outside. He was, sort of, a friend. You know, I've never known you to be one for knocking. She commented, a little amused. Your little bout of crazy must have given you some manners. She stepped away from the door, tucking the stake into the waistband of her jeans. Buffy was aware that Spike knew she had a stake, but he'd have to be an idiot to think she wouldn't be carrying one. Well, i suppose you can come in out of the cold, if you promise to not be mad and start breaking things. If he walked in, she'd shut the door behind him, rubbing her hands together. I can make hot coco, with little marshmallows. I heard you like that.

Her reaction didn't surprise him. In fact, it was almost encouraging, the casual way in which she informed him that she hadn't been expecting him. There had been a time when she would've tried to kill him on sight, and though he could admit to missing the excitement those times brought, he couldn't really complain about not having the flighty little slayer trying to off him for merely existing. Hell, he couldn't really blame her for that, though. He was a vampire, and by all rights, she probably should've staked him years ago. But going by that logic, he probably should've drained her years ago. But then, their relationship had always run hot and cold. He should have realized that something was up sooner, but to be honest, he had never really been a great thinker, after his death, anyway. Generally, Spike preferred to live in the moment, rather than sitting around to overanalyze every little aspect of his life, unlike a certain brooding wonder. "Hello, pet," he countered, finally.

It probably would have been a good idea to come up with some sort of explanation for being here, because she would obviously be expecting it, but honestly, he hadn't the first clue as to why he had come. The smart thing would be to stay the hell away from the slayer, but he had never really claimed to be very smart. Clever and quick-witted, maybe, but when it came to doing things that were particularly good for him, Spike was fairly bad at it. But then, he had never one to shy away from things that weren't good for him. Life was too short to spend it hiding from the things that went bump in the night. Besides, life was never dull when the slayer was around. For whatever reason, their relationship had gradually evolved from the usual, black-and-white slayer-slayee routine. He sure as hell wouldn't have chosen her to fall in love with, but after giving it some thought - more than he was willing to admit to, actually - he supposed it made sense. She kicked ass, and he was more than a little addicted to the pain, and the rush that came from a good fight.

She was right, of course. Spike could be called many things, but polite or courteous were not really words anyone would associate with him. Oh, he could play the part well, if he thought there was some benefit to doing so, but generally, he just didn't care. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, luv," Spike replied simply. Alright, so that was technically the truth, but that was hardly the point. He wasn't secretly some goodie-good who was playing the part of badass vamp, and he had no intention of letting anyone think that for even one second. Her mention of his little bout of crazy earned her a shrug. Honestly, he'd hoped that she wouldn't bring that up, but then, this was Buffy. She was pretty famous for doing things he wished she wouldn't do, and generally pissing him off somehow. Such was life. "Don't worry, I'll be a good boy," he promised. Well, good enough not to start breaking things, at any rate. Shrugging that thought off, he walked into the house just as she tucked the stake away.

Her next comment was something he wasn't expecting. Granted, he did enjoy a good cup of cocoa, but he wouldn't have expected her to know that. Hell, he hadn't even had any cocoa in years. It was really something he only did with Joyce. Again, that wasn't something he would count on Buffy knowing about. It wasn't really something one would expect William the Bloody to be doing; sitting around having cocoa with the slayer's mother. But Joyce had been a classy lady, and she was one of the very few people that he respected enough not to think of as a meal. "You have that on good authority, then?" Spike questioned, honestly wondering how in the bloody hell she could have come across that little bit of info. Somehow he doubted Joyce would have mentioned it, but then again, what reason would she have had to keep it a secret, really?

Hello pet

Just watching Spike Buffy could tell something had changed. It was hard to imagine the quiet, calm vampire now had been trying to brutally murder her and take over Sunnydale, let alone the drunken violent and love sick loser that had dragged himself to Buffy to try and get Drusilla back. A lot had changed since those days, Spike had sort of grown up, aside from the creepy stalking obsession he had with her, which was beyond weird. Still, he was unusually quiet, like he was thinking things over. She nodded in acknowledgement, watching him walk inside.

It felt strange, seeing him again. After everything that they had done together, everything she had been through, he had just vanished. And now he was back, just like he had never left, making his way back into her life. "Spike, I've known you since you decided that trying to kill me was a great way to return to the spotlight, about eight years ago." She remarked a little bitterly. In her mind she was thinking about how she knew him..in the biblical sense. The thought of how low she sunk then made her cringe on the inside, no doubt Spike would pick up on that tender spot and press it for all it was worth, he always knew how to push her buttons. Unless you are really a patient stickler for the rules. She giggled softly at the thought of an uptight Spike, almost Giles or Wesley like in mannerisms. That would be a laugh and a half.

"You have that on good authority, then?"

Buffy wandered into the kitchen, pausing as Spike questioned how she knew about his preference in hot coca. She paused, remembering her mother commenting on the "kind and sensitive" Spike. Looking away for his piercing blue stare Buffy dodged the question. "Like I said, you've been in my life for a long time." To busy herself, she set about warming milk and preparing the promised hot coca, unable to look up at the vampire that stood in her house. As much as she was trying to pretend he wasn't here, she was highly conscious of Spike's presence in the room, focusing more on what he was up to than what she was doing.

After a short while, the sweet scent of warm chocolate filled the room. Buffy dropped small marshmallows into the chocolate, passing one mug to Spike, holding the other in her hands gently. "So what brings you here?"

Spike had always prided himself on being unpredictable. Ever since his merciful induction into the ranks of the undead, he had taken great strides to remain something of an enigma. It kept things interesting, and it kept people guessing. There was nothing more intimidating than an unpredictable vampire. Well, unless one counted the fact that that unpredictable vampire was Spike. He had always been something of a wild card, and the ability to remain one step ahead of his pursuers, whomever they might have been, was one he was quite proud of. Predictability led to boredom, and a predictable vampire was most likely a dusted one. Hence, his great enjoyment of living spontaneously. His entire stay in Sunnydale the first time, he had managed to stay one step ahead of the little blond slayer that so many others had seemed to fear, and that just made life all the sweeter. Now, of course, things had changed. Everything was different now, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it.

The old Spike most certainly would not have been hanging about, hoping to score a bit of hot cocoa. But again, things had changed. He was different now, too, and not only because of the soul that he once again possessed. It was almost surreal, being here now, after everything that he had been through. It almost seemed as though nothing had changed. Of course, he knew that wasn't true. Buffy was different, and so was he. People had come and gone, and hell. Even Sunnydale itself had gone and gotten itself blown up and smashed into a crater. Talk about a kick in the teeth. Well, she had a point, didn't she? He was hardly the type to sit back and be on his best behavior... unless of course there was something in it for him. Granted, she could very likely end his unlife right then and there, but somehow he doubted she wanted to do so. If he was ever in the mood to fight just for the sake of fighting, she was the first person that came to mind. But right now, he wasn't particularly keen on the gratuitous violence. Maybe later, perhaps.

Rolling his eyes at her little giggle, he followed Buffy into the kitchen. He couldn't even stay irritated at her for having a laugh at his expense. What kind of shit was that now? But then, he'd always had that sort of problem. Even when he was pissed to the point of wanting to kill her, there was always something that stopped him. Damned infuriating woman! Shaking those thoughts away before they got out of hand, he focused on what the blond was doing. Sitting here now caused a faint smile to tug at his lips, not because of where he was or what he was doing so much as that it reminded him of sitting in another kitchen in Sunnydale, with a very different Summers woman whose hot cocoa was something he had actually looked forward to on more than one occasion. There was really no logical way for him to justify his odd (albeit brief) friendship with Joyce, and yet, he wouldn't have changed a thing about it. She was definitely a woman worth leaving alive.

While he had a hunch as to where Buffy had learned of his preference for tiny marshmallows in his cocoa, he decided not to press the issue. It made sense that Joyce would have mentioned it. They had never really expressly agreed to keep their meetings a secret, and it was hardly something to be ashamed of. He thought of assuring her that he missed Joyce too, but decided against it, not wanting to reopen old wounds. Buffy had taken her mother's death hard, and that was hardly the kind of thing he wanted to bring up now, when she seemed to be doing so well. Besides, there was cocoa to be had. As he waited for the promised sweet drink, he allowed his thoughts to wander. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought about all the times they'd fought, and all the times they'd worked together - willingly or otherwise. The act of her offering him a mug snapped him back to the present, and he focused his attention on Buffy once again.

"Thanks luv. Been a while since I had cocoa." Her question wasn't unexpected, really. Naturally, she'd want to know why he was here. Unfortunately, he didn't really have an answer for her. "Walked," he replied simply, as he waited for the cocoa to cool off a bit. "Needed a bit of fresh air. Ended up here." Alright, so that wasn't entirely true. But what was the difference?

Buffy worked hard these days trying to hold down a job at the local restaurant. She had never appreciated the work her mother had put in, until Joyce had gone. There was a hint of sadness in Buffy's eyes as she remembered her mother. She was dealing with loosing her much better now, but there was still a pain remember her. Buffy guessed there always would be. The best way to remember her mother was to keep fighting, to succeed at whatever she put her mind to and to look after Dawn and keep her safe. So Buffy focussed on that. On being the mother, the big sister and the money earner. She hadn't had a lot of time for slaying, keeping her skills sharp on a punching bag that had taken a month worth of saving to afford. Funny how, now that she didn't have a Hellmouth, Buffy didn't have an issue with Faith being in the slayer pageant without her.

Buffy sat down on the couch, her mug of coca cupped gently in her hands. Her eyes fell on a letter from Angel Investigations, half buried under a pile of books and papers. Quickly, when she thought Spike wasn't looking, Buffy pushed the letter further underneath the papers so she couldn't see it. She knew what it was. An invitation to a Christmas party. Buffy couldn't bring herself to face Angel or Yaten. As much as she liked to think that she was over Angel, she couldn't help but still feel a pang of jealousy just thinking about them together, Yaten making Angel happy in a way that Buffy just couldn't. She sighed softly to herself, caught up in these thoughts, she almost forgot about the vampire sitting in the room with her, enjoying hot coca with her, until his voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to reality.

Oh you walked. She teased, a silly grin on her face. And just happened to end up around my place. Like that other time you said you were walking past my house. What was it... She tapped her chin thoughtfully. Out. For. A. Walk. Bitch. She quoted, smiling at him, lounging about without a care in the world. It was funny how Spike could make her feel like she was a normal girl. That she wasn't some superpowered chosen one who was struggling to afford LA living and raise a little sister in a world full of monsters. Maybe that was why she hadn't staked him in all the time she'd known him. Buffy couldn't know for certain.

Sitting up straight, Buffy placed her mug of coca on the table in front of her. Spike, I'll admit it. I'm a bit worried. She looked at him, all serious now. You vanished after the big battle. When I next saw you, well, you were crazy. Delirious even. What was going on?

In all honesty, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had cocoa. Granted, it wasn't a necessity, and his drink of choice was generally stronger than that, but still. Either way, he doubted Buffy could have cared less how long it had been. It wasn't exactly a life or death emergency situation. Vampires didn't technically need to eat or drink anything, other than human blood, but Spike had always been a little odd. and more than a bit fond of doing things just for the sake of doing them. He couldn't even count on both hands the number of times he had gone after one of the idiots in Sunnydale, just for the possibility of luring out the Slayer. Of course, back then, he had been more interested in trying to kill her than anything else. But he digressed.

Somehow, he doubted she really believed that he had just been out for a walk. And honestly? He didn't care either way, really. If she wanted to believe that, it was fine. If not, well, that was fine as well. Spike answered to nobody, including the Slayer. He may have been completely in love with the tiny blond, but that didn't mean he had to ask her permission to do something when he wanted. He was still very much his own man, regardless of whether or not she seemed to approve of that. He did, in fact, notice as she stuffed that letter further into the pile, but he wasn't particularly in the mood to pick at her over it, so he left it alone. For now. Chances were good that he'd bring it up at some point, but for now he was content to park himself on the sofa beside the slayer and enjoy his cocoa.

It didn't matter that the cocoa was too hot or that the mug was kind of burning his hands. Honestly, he was just grateful to be feeling anything. The sound of Buffy's voice, and even her teasing was much more pleasurable to focus on than the mug in his hands, and he just smirked as she turned his own words around on him. Spike could recall the night he'd said that very clearly. Honestly, he'd have guessed that she'd put that out of her mind, but it would seem she remembered. "Yeh. Something like that," he replied, still smirking. It was oddly comforting, seeing her like this. Relaxed enough to act like a silly twit around him, that was. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd even seen her so at ease. Well, he could always count that one time when they'd been under Red's spell and convinced that they were engaged. But that whole thing had been screwy, so it probably didn't even count.

Unfortunately, the silliness was short-lived. And of course she'd have to mention seeing him in his less-than-sane state. It wasn't a time that he particularly enjoyed remembering, but it wasn't like he could just erase it from the history books. It did come as something of a shock to hear that she'd worried about him. That wasn't something he had been expecting, but it was a start, right? What was he supposed to tell her, though? "Don't worry about me luv," Spike asserted. He knew she probably would anyway, but really, what was there to worry about? He was fine now. No more babbling or hallucinations to contend with. "Things were crazy. Guess I got caught up in all the chaos." It wasn't much of an explanation, but really. What the hell was he supposed to say?

Buffy knew a lot about vampires. She had to, that was part of her job. But Spike continued to be a mystery to her. She had noticed and heard of his interesting diet, constituting of a strange amount of human food. She doubted Spike could even taste the food, but he did like to add things to his blood. Not to mention his obsessive nature with love. First was Drusilla, whom he pined over, even going so far as to kidnap Willow to have a love spell performed. But then, he started stalking Buffy, loitering near her house and building a robot of her. In a way, it made sense. If love was to be twisted by evil, then that is how it would be done, but given that most books about vampires didn't make observations about their love habits, nor their enjoyment of human food, Buffy had come to the conclusion that Spike was pretty much unique to vampire kind. Even Angel didn't act the way William the Bloody did, which really said something about the peroxide blonde.

Buffy remembered the time she and Spike had been "in love." It was strange because even though it had been a magic based experience, she still reflected on those moments with a longing for them to return. Not even Angel had looked at her the way Spike had when they were under that spell. She certainly hadn't felt so relaxed or optimistic about the future before, nor since. Maybe it had just been the sheer power of Willow's magic that had made that time so unique, but in a slight way Buffy missed it. Sometimes she even longed for it to happen again. But reality had to continue in its boring bland way and the blonde slayer knew she couldn't spend the rest of her life caught in the past. That was why she was so determined to move on from Angel. He had clearly recovered from their relationship, so why shouldn't she?

She raised a sceptical eyebrow as Spike casually brushed off her concern for him. It's not that I'm worried about you, Spike. She commented casually, although that was probably as big of a lie as saying she and Angel hadn't meant anything to one another. I need to know you're safe to have around Dawn. The comments sounded like a faint echo of her mother. Buffy could handle herself and she wasn't scared of dying at the hands of a crazed vampire. But Buffy would do anything to protect Dawn, even so far as dusting Spike or Angel. I want to know what really happened Spike. Did your chip malfunction again?

As it happened, he could, in fact, taste the food he indulged in. Did he need it? Absolutely not, but he wasn't about to let a little thing like necessity stop him. The truth was, he enjoyed sampling the odd bit of human food. Granted, all he really needed was the blood. That was all fine and dandy, but sometimes he wanted a change of pace. A little variety never hurt anyone. Who was to say that simply being undead meant one had to have a bland diet, anyway! Of course, he was aware of the fact that the vast majority of the undead community likely looked down upon his odd habit of sampling human fare, but who the bloody hell cared what they thought of it? Was it really so different than the way the lot of them were known to enjoy the booze, in all its various forms? Hell no. It was virtually the same, and even if it wasn't, it was really nobody's business but his own. It was his body, after-all, and if he wanted to fill it with onion blossoms and cocoa and whatever the hell else he felt like eating or drinking, in addition to the blood, then he damn well would!

Fortunately for Spike, he was not a mind reader, and as such, he had no way of knowing what it was that Buffy was thinking about. Had he even the slightest inkling that she was remembering that screwed up time when they were bewitched into believing they were in love... well, it was really a good thing he had no idea. As it was, he looked back on that time with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he had what he wanted; Buffy. But on the other hand, the whole thing had been nothing more than the result of a botched spell. None of it was real. The sound of the slayer's voice cut into his thoughts, and he pushed the memories of that odd period away before he could dwell on them too much. Oh, of course she'd be worried about the little bit. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen all that much of Dawn as of late. "No need to worry about that," he responded, matter-of-factly. No way in hell he would ever lay a finger on Dawn. It was odd, but he had always felt there was something different about the women in this family.

Alright, so technically, Dawn was really just an odd extension of Buffy, sent to her so she'd protect the Key, but still. Joyce, Dawn and even Buffy herself had always seemed to have some mysterious appeal. Oh yes, he'd tried to kill Buffy too many times to count, but the other two he'd treated with nothing but respect. Spike had no idea what she was expecting to hear, but there was really only one answer he could give her. "Chip's fine. It's the soul that drove me batshit for a while." Alright, so he was probably going to have to go into more detail than that, but he figured he'd give her time to process that little bit of information first. She'd never really been one to deal well with shocking news.

Buffy had always been protective of her family. Whilst her attempts to protect them had often not worked, she had clearly demonstrated over the years that she would die for Dawn and her mother. She had appreciated that Spike too, was there often to look after her sister. There was a slight distant look in her eyes as she remembered all he had done for her over the years, facing Glory's torture to keep her sister safe, the way he had helped her and comforted her after her rise from the grave. Angel had never been there at the right moment, always missing the time when she needed someone. But Spike...Spike showed up whenever she was miserable, always ready to do anything he could to help her. And here he was again. as she was busting her gut trying to hold her life together.

Strange things happened all the time in Buffy's life, but recently things had been relatively normal. Well, aside from that time Spike turned up completely crazy. She couldn't help but be worried about him, although she hid that concern behind the worry he'd become evil again. Truth be told, the slayer was starting to believe Spike when he said he had changed. Maybe a soul wasn't needed to make a vampire good. Good to hear. Buffy remarked before her brain ticked over. Wait..What?! Buffy stared at Spike like he'd just suddenly sprouted a second head. She couldn't have heard him correctly. You....you have a soul?

So dumbfounded, Buffy was silent, just starting at Spike as her brain tried to catch up with that information. News like that threw Buffy in the deep end and she struggled to get her head around it. Since when? and how....You didn't like kill a gypsy and get cursed did you? Slowly, everything she had experienced with Angel was just going through her head. You're not going to end up being like Angel are you? All one moment of happiness and then you're back to trying to kill me, cause I don't think I could handle two of Angel in my life. So splattered was her brain from Spike's revelation that Buffy wasn't even thinking to hide the hurt that Angel had left in her life as she questioned him. In fact, if Spike looked hard enough, he could no doubt see the way she felt about him, because Buffy wasn't hiding that well either any more.

As he sat here, he realized something kind of amusing. For all the times he'd tried to kill Buffy and her little friends, he had never once even attempted to so much as harm her mother or sister. Not really, anyway. Then again, Dawn hadn't come 'round until late in the game, and by that time, he'd had a lot on his mind. But none of that really mattered at this point. He really doubted that Buffy had even made the connection. The slayer was a lot of things, but sometimes he had to wonder about her ability to notice the trivial things. Then again, Buffy's loyalty to her family was no secret, so maybe it wasn't as trivial as Spike thought. Still, there were other things to worry about now. There was no sense in dwelling in the past. Neither one of them could really afford to spend much time living in what had already happened.

Spike, on the other hand, did tend to notice the little things. In fact, he frequently made a habit of doing so. If there was one thing that he enjoyed more than messing with people, it was messing with Buffy herself. Granted, it was kind of in the job description. The whole evil undead package came with the added benefit of getting to piss off the Slayer. Then again, he had managed to keep himself alive for this long, so maybe he was slacking in that department. Not that he was complaining about not being a pile of dust. Besides, if he was still around, he was still able to bug the tiny blond. Had he been one to believe in things like fate or destiny, he might have chosen to read more into the fact that neither one had been able to off, or otherwise rid themselves of, the other in all the time they'd known one another. Fortunately, he didn't buy into all that nonsense.

Was he expecting a big dramatic reaction to his casually delivered news? Possibly. He knew Buffy, and she did have a certain flair for the dramatic. Hell, that was part of why he loved her. Still, her initial reaction was less than impressive. Who knew? Maybe she'd just take it all in stride. Spike wasn't even the first vampire with a soul that happened to be in her life, so maybe she wasn't as impressed as he'd imagined she'd be. He didn't have to wait long for the news to properly sink in, though. "Yep," he replied simply. As she began to attempt to fill in the blanks, however, he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "As much fun as that sounds, no. Not hardly." As if he would have time to kill a gypsy and get himself cursed. "I'm not big on playing monkey see, monkey do, luv," Spike added. He was referring, of course, to Angelus' less than brilliant reintroduction to his own soul.

Her inquiry was not something he wanted to hear. "I'm nothing like him," he insisted. "I can have as much... happiness as I want without turning into a wanker," Spike assured her. At that, he took her moment of distraction as an opportunity to really study her. Physically, there wasn't really anything notably different about her. But something was definitely up, he just couldn't put his finger on it yet.

Buffy had always been baffled as to why Spike, even as he was parading around trying to a be big bad, was best friends with her mother. Not harming Dawn she could understand, he was going through that 'must impress the girl no matter what' phase of his life. But Joyce and Spike had shared a friendship of sorts, one that seemed to occur over hot chocolate and little marshmallows. Even when he was crying and drunk from breaking up with Drusilla, Joyce had managed to sooth him and speak with him on a level Buffy could never understand. It was hardly surprising he had come to leave flowers for Joyce, anonymously. The thought of her mothers death and then Spike's new role as the big brother for Dawn, the best friend for her made her eyes shine slightly with held back tears. She wasn't going to cry over it, not again. The world had moved on, Buffy had to just concentrate on doing her best fr Dawn and making her mother proud.

Perhaps Buffy had always been a drama queen, but Spike was nothing but a lover of attention. He always did things with a dramatic flare, standing up centre stage so people would look at him, admire him or perhaps fear him. As seemingly unimpressive as her reaction, her mind was blown. Spike, had a soul. He was a good boy now, well in theory. Something told Buffy Spike would always be bad. She listened in complete silence, lost for words for once. She just nodded slowly, her mouth half open in wonder as she stared at Spike, as if he had suddenly sprouted horns, or a second head. Just the thought of him with a soul, no, going out and getting a soul, was insane. It wasn't by accident, well, not by what Buffy understood from his comments. He had intentionally found a soul.

At his last remark, Spike's blue eyes searched her, possibly looking for a reaction. Buffy snapped out of her vacant stage and smirked. Oh Spike, I know you. You don't need happiness, you're a "wanker" all the time. She teased, putting her mug of warm coco down on the table. But you went out and found yourself a soul. Intentionally. I don't understand, why would you do such a thing? She looked at Spike softly, the faintest hint of an adoring smile on her lips.