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“Oh dear.”

Buffy took a deep breath, fighting the instinctive desire to pull away from Spike and immediately begin explaining herself to her Watcher. She knew the effect that such an action would have on Spike, who was still trembling in her arms, clinging to her as if she was the only thing standing between him and horrible death.

*He probably thinks I am,* she reminded herself, and then swallowed hard with the grim realization, *He’s probably right. Just – not about that horrible death coming in the form of any random guy who shows up at the door. Namely Giles.*

Still not even acknowledging her Watcher, Buffy leaned down closer to Spike, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion as she whispered in his ear, her words barely over a breath – but she knew that he could clearly hear her.

“You’re safe,” she promised him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Do you believe me?”

Spike did not respond at all for a long moment; then, without raising his head from where it was buried in her blouse, he nodded weakly, a soft whimpering sound muffled against her.

“That’s good,” she reassured him softly. “That’s good, Sweetheart. Trust me…*trust* me, okay? I’m right here. Okay?”

Spike nodded again, a little more firmly.

He was trying so hard to be brave.

“Okay,” she went on softly. “Now I want you to look up, Spike. I want you to get up, and turn around and look at my friend – okay? He’s a friend. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

She felt the little shudder of apprehension that went through Spike at the gentle words that he no doubt still heard as an order; but he obeyed, reluctantly releasing his death grip on her blouse, lifting his head – though he still kept his eyes closed, as he slid off of the stool he was sitting on and stood beside her, facing Giles.

He lowered his head, opening his eyes but still unable to bring himself to look at the man in the doorway, trembling uncontrollably under Buffy’s protective arm around his pitifully slender waist.

Buffy herself finally ventured a look at her Watcher’s face.

“Hi, Giles,” she said meekly, a little grimace on her face as she took in his expression of shock and dismay.

Shock and dismay – gradually giving way to blind fury.

The Watcher’s eyes narrowed as he took a menacing step forward, all of his attention focused in on the vampire at his Slayer’s side, being embraced by her no less, and bearing a downcast expression of what Giles could only suppose to be the chagrin of being caught on his face.

“You foul, filthy creature!” the Englishman spat out angrily, and Spike flinched back against Buffy.

Giles, in his anger, did not notice how very unlike the Spike he had known was that gesture.

“I warned you to stay away from her, Spike, after the last time you tried to force your perverted affections on her -- not to attempt to worm your way into her affections again! She’s too kind – too generous to slay you as you deserved, but I warned you that I would not be -- and yet the moment I leave, you go back to your old deceptions, and manage to fool her into believing that you are more than the disgusting, evil thing that you are! Had I been able to find you when last I was in town, know that you would be dust already! I had thought that Buffy had come to her senses and ended her foolish affair with you, but then I come back to find that you have somehow managed to convince her to start it up again! Spike, this is it, this is the last straw!”

As he spoke, he closed the distance between himself and Spike, his voice rising, trembling with fury. Spike was cowering back against the counter behind them, his thin, ravaged back shaking violently as he pressed back against Buffy’s arm in an attempt to withdraw from the larger, and at the moment stronger, man.

He could not come anywhere close to understanding most of what the man was saying – but a few words stood out clearly, words he had heard so many times before, and always followed by vicious torment.

*Evil!*

*Disgusting!*

*Filthy thing!*

And the menace in the man’s voice spoke for itself.

Buffy, for her part, was too stunned by the rage her Watcher was displaying to move for a moment.

But *only* for a moment.

Her own eyes narrowed dangerously as she moved away from Spike, only to step firmly between him and Giles, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she spoke in a sharp, commanding voice of barely restrained anger.

“Giles, *stop*!”

Giles took a step backward, but only because he had no choice as the Slayer stepped very deliberately into his space. His angry attention was necessarily diverted to her for the moment, instead of the cowering vampire behind her, as he protested indignantly,

“Buffy, I cannot believe that after the disaster of your first relationship with a vampire, you would take up with a second vampire – and one without the dubious benefit of a soul, for that matter! This is the same creature that chained you up in his crypt and threatened to allow you to be killed, to prove his ‘love’ for you! And now you’re…”

*Wait…*cowering*? Since when does Spike cower to anyone?*

Giles suddenly stopped, mid-rant, glancing around the determined Slayer at Spike, finally slowing down enough to take in the remnants of bruises on his face, the bandages that covered his bare torso, and appeared to continue under the loose-fitting jeans he wore – and most surprising of all, the absolutely terror-stricken demeanor of the beaten, wounded creature.

His view lasted only a moment, before Buffy pointedly stepped into his line of vision, meeting his eyes with a steely, warning gaze. The Watcher studied her expression for a long moment; it was impossible to miss the fiercely protective gleam in her bright, emerald eyes.

He was quiet for a moment, glancing down at the floor, composing himself before he spoke again, much more calmly, “Perhaps you had best explain to me what has happened in my absence.”

Buffy’s lips twisted upward into a sarcastic smile, as she nodded curtly. “Yeah, *perhaps* you should have asked that first, before you went into attack mode. We’ve had more than enough of that around here lately.”

This time, when Giles shifted to look past Buffy at Spike, she did not move into his way, though she did watch him carefully for any sign that he might strike out at the vulnerable vampire again, with words or blows.

“What happened to him?” Giles asked softly, a frown that seemed more curious than concerned creasing his brow as he studied Spike calmly, puzzled by the way he cringed back against the counter behind Buffy, his eyes tightly shut, clearly on the verge of panic.

Buffy was still very angry that Giles had managed to undo her careful efforts to calm Spike, with a few careless, cruel words – but she kept her voice calm and steady, for Spike’s benefit, as she replied slowly and clearly.

“Let’s go into the living room – the three of us – and I’ll explain everything to you.”

Giles stared at Spike for a moment longer, before meeting Buffy’s eyes again, nodding in cautious satisfaction, as he turned toward the living room.

“But if you talk to him like that again,” Buffy’s words of soft steel froze him in the kitchen doorway, “if you raise your hand or your voice to him even once – you will not be welcome in this house.”

Giles turned suddenly, his eyes wide and stunned at her words.

“Spike has been through a very traumatic ordeal – and it’s all I can do right now to convince him that I’m not going to take a switch to his legs until he can’t walk every time he opens his mouth – or turn him over to someone else who will. The last thing I need is someone – even you – coming in here trying to *help* me, and undoing all the progress we’ve made…which isn’t really much, yet,” Buffy explained, her tone holding a bit more patience now, but no less certainty.

Giles stared at her for a moment, still startled at her vehemence, and a bit troubled at where her priorities seemed to be placed – but accepting her terms with a solemn nod.

There was really nothing else he could do under the circumstances.

Buffy nodded her own satisfaction at his acceptance. “Just give us a minute. Go ahead into the living room, I’ll be right there,” she instructed quietly, waiting until Giles had gone on through the doorway to turn back toward Spike.

The terrified, confused vampire was cowering back against the counter, having gradually sunk lower and lower in an attempt to make himself as small and invisible as possible, until now he was crouched almost down to his knees, huddled against the counter, a soft, pleading whine reverberating in his throat. His eyes were closed tight, his arms raised up almost over his face – as if he wanted to shield his head from the blows he feared, but had learned better than to dare try to defend himself, even in such a small way.

“Spike,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears, as she knelt on the floor beside him, reaching out gentle hands to pull him toward her. “Come here, Baby…”

A visible tremor ran through him at the gentle touch, and though he did not open his eyes, he leaned forward suddenly, pressing his face against her lap in a subservient gesture of supplication. Two words fell from his lips in a trembling, desperate whisper, a litany of pure terror.

“Please, please, Buffy, please, Buffy, please…” he sobbed, no other words coming.

Tears streaked Buffy’s face, dropping down onto the back of his neck as she leaned down to embrace him, whispering, “It’s okay, Spike…it’s okay…come on, look at me, Sweetie…”

Spike immediately raised his wide, tearful eyes to focus on hers, trusting and obedient, despite his obvious fear.

“I told you I wasn’t going to let him hurt you – didn’t I?” she reminded him softly, holding his gaze with a leading nod.

He nodded slowly in response, understanding in his eyes – but there was still a vast uncertainty there. “H-hurt,” he whispered, glancing toward the living room. “Bad – hurt…”

Although several words were missing, Buffy could clearly understand what he was trying to say. He had guessed – and quite accurately, actually – that Giles wanted to hurt him, thought he was “bad” and wanted to punish him.

“I won’t let him,” she assured him softly. “I won’t, Spike. You’re safe with me. Okay?”

Spike seemed to consider her words for a moment, studying the silent promise in her eyes – before his jaw set with a courageous determination, and he nodded firmly. “S-safe,” he whispered, nodding. “Buffy – safe…”

Fresh tears sprang to the Slayer’s eyes, and she nodded in agreement as she ran her hand down his cheek in a gesture of affection – and for once, he did not flinch or pull away, even for a moment, choosing instead to lean into the caress, closing his eyes with a sort of yearning in his expression, as he relished the gentle touch – so rare and beautiful to him still.

“So – will you come in the living room with me?” Buffy asked him cautiously, as she rose to her feet, holding out her hands to help him up as well.

He was pitifully easy to pull to his feet, as he glanced anxiously toward the living room, and then back into her eyes – and nodded firmly. “Y-yes,” he whispered. “Yes, Buffy…”

The beaming smile she gave him was as encouraging as anything she had said to him, as she put her arm around him and started toward the living room, praising him quietly, “Very good, Spike – you’re learning so fast! I’m very proud of you, Spike!”

Giles was seated in the armchair across from the sofa, watching them with solemn eyes as they entered – much closer to each other than he liked – and sat down on the couch together, Buffy’s arm still a reassuring presence around Spike’s shoulders, as he instinctively shrank in closer to her. As hard as he was trying to be brave, to trust her, he could not help being just a little bit afraid of this angry man who had yelled at him and threatened him.

The Watcher’s anger quickly evaporated into his curiosity, as he took in Spike’s vastly changed manner once more.

“He hardly seems the same creature, Buffy,” he remarked quietly. “What happened?”

“He’s not,” she informed him, keeping her tone soft and mild, in sharp contrast to what she actually felt. She did not want to further upset Spike with her tone. She took a deep breath before answering Giles’ question, telling him all that she knew about what had happened to Spike, the condition he had been in when she had found him.

As she spoke, the anger and condemnation seemed to fade from her Watcher’s eyes, replaced with a grudging understanding. It was still apparent from the guarded expression on his face that he was not quite sure she was doing the right thing – but he at least understood *why* she was doing it.

Mingled with the concern in his eyes – all for Buffy, she was sure, not for the injured vampire beside her – was a light of curiosity, a certain fascination with the condition of the creature. It was obvious that Giles had never seen a vampire with brain damage before, and was very interested in learning more about the effects it might have had on him.

She supposed it was just part of being a Watcher, that made him so clinical and unfeeling at times – but at the moment, it made her furious.

“So – he doesn’t remember anything?” he asked, his eyes focused in on Spike as he addressed his question to Buffy.

Spike was clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his stare, as he couldn’t seem to stay still beside Buffy, shifting and looking around the room with darting eyes that desperately avoided the piercing blue gaze focused on him.

“I really don’t know how much he remembers,” Buffy said shortly. “And we won’t, until he gets to where he can talk a little more. But he’s learning already – getting a little better every day – so it shouldn’t be long.” She paused, waiting for Giles to look away from Spike and meet her eyes before she added firmly, “But if he talks to anyone but me about what happened – it will be his choice. I’m not going to have you treating him like – like some kind of science experiment.”

Giles looked a bit offended by her words, as he protested quietly, “Really, Buffy, I don’t mean any harm to him. But surely you must understand that such information could be very useful to the Council, and the Slayers. The effects of a gunshot on a vampire…”

“…are much less effective and less humane than a good old-fashioned stake to the heart,” she finished for him, a warning flashing in her eyes. “Giles – I know you don’t approve. I know you think he’s not – not even a person – not worth saving. But – you don’t know what it was like.”

She hesitated, looking down and getting a rein on her emotions before going on – and Giles was quiet, waiting for her to go on.

“Last year – it was so – so hard. No one understood. No one – except Spike. And you can say all you want that he’s a monster and he doesn’t deserve my help – but he’s the one who was there for me, when no one else was. He’s the one who looked out for me, and let me – let me just be me. Even when that meant letting me be as bad a monster as he ever was – letting me beat the crap out of him, and never lifting a finger against me.”

She met her Watcher’s eyes, giving him a moment for the shock of that statement to sink in. “Is that the way a monster would respond if he was being beaten on? If he *could* defend himself against me – and he could!”

Giles had no answer for that, his eyes widening as he simply struggled to make that new information mesh with his own world view.

“Long before that, Giles – he took torture. For me and Dawn. He fought with us – even when I was – gone. I think the least he deserves is my help – my protection – now when he’s more defenseless, and less responsible for his past crimes, than ever before.”

Giles still did not respond at all, his eyes intent and focused on some point just past her, his brow furrowed in a pensive frown.

“I know maybe you don’t want to help me with this – and I can understand that. But – don’t try to stop me. And don’t get in the way. You know you are like a father to me, Giles – but right now, Spike is my priority.”

Buffy finally said all she had to say, and fell silent, waiting for some response from her Watcher. After a long pause – she got it.

“I’m not quite sure that he should be, Buffy,” he told her frankly. “Though I must say I understand why you feel the way you do. And honestly, Spike is by no means *my* priority.” He paused, before going on slowly, almost reluctantly, “However – I am willing to help you, in any capacity you want me to, my dear. Because although Spike is not my priority -- *you* most certainly are, and always will be.”

Buffy felt a certain warmth and reassurance flood through her at the gentle sincerity she heard in Giles’ voice, as well as at his honesty. She knew that although he might have his doubts about what she was doing, he would do his best to support her in any way that he could – insofar as he could do so without compromising his own integrity.

And she could ask for nothing more.