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When she walked through the front door that evening at the end of her shift, Buffy was very surprised by the unexpected sight that met her eyes.

Giles was seated on the sofa, turned slightly toward Spike, who was seated on the other end of the sofa, expectant blue eyes focused on the to-all-appearances older man. The fact that Giles wore an encouraging smile on his face as he looked at the vampire took Buffy by surprise – but even more startling was the fact that Spike did not seem to be afraid.

Of course, that probably had a great deal to do with her little sister, seated comfortably on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, one arm resting casually across Spike’s knees – the easy touch obviously a great comfort to him. He was watching Giles warily, but without a trace of the utter terror with which he had viewed the man the day before – but his hand was holding tightly to the smaller hand of the girl beside him, as if to keep her there, between him and Giles.

Of course – Giles had made no move to touch him, and Spike certainly did not seem inclined to get any closer to him. The way he kept glancing anxiously toward Dawn every few seconds made Buffy think that if the younger girl had not been there, he probably could not have stayed in the same room with the Watcher.

But Dawn *was* there – and for the moment, Spike seemed to be okay.

When Buffy stepped into the living room, Spike looked up at her in surprise. She felt a moment of jealousy that he had been so caught up in whatever was going on that he had not noticed her come in – as brief and fleeting as it was childish and unreasonable – that instantly faded when his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

Dawn grinned up at her sister with amused anticipation as she nudged Spike’s leg and prompted in a stage whisper, “Go on – say it!”

Buffy’s slow, even progress toward the vampire was halted in stunned pleasure, at the two simple words he spoke next – so very ordinary and easy for anyone else to say, but such a tremendous step of progress for Spike.

“Hello, Buffy.”

Almost against her will – definitely against her better judgment – Buffy savored the little tremor that ran through her stomach, and lower, at the sound of that low, deep voice – so familiar, and yet so changed from the voice she remembered. Spike spoke with a certain soft shyness that was not exactly new to him. She had heard him say the same exact words in exactly the same way, many times before – though then, the fear and uncertainty in his voice had been more for his fragile heart than for his physical safety.

Perhaps it still was.

Buffy’s eyes welled with tears as her mind filled with the unbidden image of Spike as he had been a year ago, looking a her with those same vulnerable, pleading eyes, desperate for her acceptance, her approval – just to have his feelings for her acknowledged as being as real and deep and lasting as they were.

And she had ruthlessly denied him even that.

She brought an encouraging smile to her face now, through her tears, for Spike’s sake, as she sat down on the couch between Spike and Giles, putting her arm around him and pulling him gently against her side, taking his free hand in hers as she replied softly, “Hello, Spike. That’s so good, Sweetie – I’m so proud of you.”

“Buffy, you should hear all the words he’s learned today; he’s talking so much better now!” Dawn put in happily. “And Giles is going to help us!”

Buffy looked in expectant surprise at her Watcher – who just cleared his throat and looked away with a slightly sheepish smile – before returning her questioning gaze to her sister.

“He’s going to make sure that as Spike learns to talk English again, it’ll actually be -- *English*, you know? That he’ll still sound like Spike!” Dawn continued, a wide smile of satisfaction on her face.

Buffy looked back at Giles, her eyes widening, as he just continued to avoid eye contact, a reluctant smile of mild embarrassment on his face. “Really?’ she said, obviously pleased. “That’s great!” She paused before quirking a slightly suspicious eyebrow at him. “What brought on this sudden change of heart?”

“I already told you I would help in any way you needed me to, Buffy!” Giles reminded her indignantly, meeting her eyes at last. “I’d hardly call it a change of heart.”

When Buffy said nothing, just continued looking at him with a slowly widening smirk, he went on in a tone of defensive exasperation, “Well, he *is* British, Buffy. We can hardly have him speaking the mangled version of American English that you two speak, now can we?”

“No – it’s much better if he talks just like *you*!” Buffy retorted, sticking her tongue out at her Watcher in an impulsive display of good-natured immaturity.

“Close enough,” Dawn pointed out with a shrug. “Giles talks more like Spike used to than we do, that’s for sure.”

Buffy silently nodded her acceptance of the situation, agreeing that a British accent -- *any* British accent – would certainly suit Spike better than the California girl speech that she and Dawn had both adopted.

Spike, for his part, seemed a bit lost by the whole conversation, glancing uncertainly between the three of them, a slight, puzzled frown creasing his brow.

“So,” she said with an expectant, teasing wink as she turned her attention back to him and squeezed his hand gently, “why don’t you show me what you’ve learned while I was gone?”

A bit shyly, Spike went through the rather impressive list of items he was now able to identify to Buffy, whose lavish, enthusiastic praise brought a beaming smile to his face. He tucked his head slightly, a bit uncomfortable with the enigma of receiving affection and affirmation, when he had been led to believe for so long that those were things he would never deserve, never receive from anyone.

“Things are easy for him to learn,” Dawn remarked thoughtfully after a few minutes. “But – it might be a little tougher for him to get *ideas* -- verbs and stuff, you know?”

“He’s smart,” Buffy assured her, thrilling at the way his brilliant blue eyes softened with grateful adoration at her words. She raised a hand to tenderly run through his hair, as she added, “He’ll get it – he’s a very quick learner.”

The ring of the doorbell drew her attention away from him for a moment, but she could feel his body tense under her arm at the sound, the sound he had come to associate with new people coming onto the scene.

And as much progress as he had made, Spike was not quite comfortable with new people just yet.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and his shoulder protectively, as she watched Dawn go toward the door. “Nothing and no one’s gonna hurt you, remember? I’m gonna keep you safe – right?”

Buffy was pleased to see that Spike obviously understood every bit of what she had said this time, and she smiled her approval as his jaw set with determination, and he nodded slowly, making a conscious decision to accept her promise at face value. She could read his emotions easily in his expressive sapphire gaze.

Buffy had kept her word to keep him safe so far – so he would trust her to do it again.

“Good boy,” she whispered tenderly, taking the opportunity of the moment when Giles and Dawn were both focused toward the front door to press a soft kiss to his forehead, marveling at the warmth of affection that flooded her for him as she did.

*Stupid Buffy,* she chided herself silently, *why is it so easy when no one’s looking, but if you’re not alone with him…*

Her thoughts were cut off in an instant, as wide, soft blue eyes focused on hers in a stunning mixture of startled pleasure, and awe, that she had deigned to touch him in such a way. There was something akin to worship in his gaze, as a tentative, vulnerable smile began to cross his lips, and he instinctively leaned in closer to her, his eyes focusing on her lips – and then suddenly looking back up at her, breathtaking blue through thick, lush lashes.

The sudden tightening she felt low in her abdomen caught her off guard, stealing her breath, as the desire she had been consciously holding at bay began to quicken within her again. Even as she told herself she had to pull away – had to stop before she did something she might regret – she felt her body leaning slightly toward him, in response to his own forward motion.

His sudden slight wince, and downward glance to their joined hands in his lap, drew her attention – mercifully – out of the drowning depths of his eyes, and she looked down to see that unknowingly, she was tightly clenching his hand in hers – almost painfully tight.

She immediately loosened her grip, without taking her hand away completely, as she looked back up at him with an apologetic smile.

“Spike,” she whispered, shaking her head slightly – falling silent as she realized that she had no idea how to explain to him what had just happened between them…or if it even needed explanation.

There were so many things that he could not remember, yet still seemed to sense on a basic, instinctive level. He could still read her like an open book; she realized that there was a good chance he already knew exactly what she was feeling, without any attempt on her part at useless words.

The entire exchange had taken place in a few brief moments, that had seemed to last a lifetime – but the power of the moment was shattered in an instant, swallowed up in an entirely different, more sinister sort of intensity, as Dawn opened the front door.

Immediately, Spike froze completely, his eyes widening and darting toward the doorway.

“What is it?” she asked him softly, glancing toward the doorway as a familiar figure stepped inside, then back at Spike, concern in her eyes. “What’s the matter, Sweetie?”

Spike’s eyes shot to hers, full of panic, and he shook his head frantically, scrambling back away from her against the far end of the couch, his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes darting wildly about, before he lowered his head to rest on his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

“Spike – Honey,” she urgently tried to gain his attention, rising to her knees on the sofa and scooting towards him, taking his arms and trying to get him to look up at her. “What’s the matter, Sweetheart? It’s okay – he’s my friend. He’s not going to hurt you, Baby, I promise! He’s my friend!”

His wild, panicked eyes shot up to hers – and she lost her breath at the look of shock in his eyes.

No – it was more than shock.

It was -- *betrayal*.

“No,” he whispered pleadingly, shaking his head and drawing back away from her. “Please – no – please – Buffy, no…”

His desperation was clear in his soft, trembling voice, as he begged her, pleaded with her, for safety and protection that he could feel swiftly slipping away from him with the unexpected, unprepared-for presence of the person in the doorway – the person that his protector had just declared to be her *friend*.

“It’s okay,” she insisted softly, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek in a gentle, soothing gesture. “I promise, Spike, it’s okay…” She paused, a firm hand under his chin tilting his head up to meet her determined gaze. “You were afraid when Giles came, right? But I told you he wasn’t going to hurt you – and he didn’t,” she reminded him. “This is just the same. You just have to learn, Spike, not every stranger that you meet wants to treat you like whoever did this to you.”

Spike shook his head desperately, in his panic unable to find words to even attempt to explain the reason for it. And in his mind, as he tried desperately to make sense of the terrified ramblings echoing over and over, one thought was clear.

This was *not* just the same. This was different from Giles – in a way that he could not begin to make her understand, in his current panicked, incoherent state.

“Please,” he gasped for breath, barely able to get the words out. “B-Buffy, please – please, please, n-no…” he sobbed, as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Spike,” she promised him softly, her lips against his ear. “I’m going to protect you…I promise, okay?”

A sense of relief flooded over him, and he nodded against her shoulder, tears streaking his face, trembling uncontrollably with the release of knowing that somehow, she understood – that she would not let this happen.

Except – she did.

Spike’s heart sank in terror and disbelieving despair – as the Slayer gently disentangled herself from him, standing and turning toward his tormentor, now standing in the doorway…

…and, calmly smiling, invited him inside.