Title:  Pillow Talk

Author:  Miss Murchison

Rating:  Moving deeper into R territory.

Disclaimer:  All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.  Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine.

Notes:  A Spuffy story that starts in early Season 6 before deviating from canon.   A slight change in circumstances, a different decision or two, and you wind up with very different results.

Thanks: To Keswindhover and revdorothyl for the beta.

The story begins here.

Chapter 25

By the time Buffy and Dawn reached the kitchen, Spike had tossed his duster on a stool and was emptying a paper bag sitting on the island.  "I went to the shops and—"  He stopped, looking at Ms. Kroger, who was standing behind Buffy.  His eyes moved back to Buffy's face and stayed there.

There was a long silence, while Buffy tried to think a way to explain to a social worker why a peroxided male in black jeans and t-shirt was standing in her kitchen putting groceries away, apparently perfectly at home.

Ms. Kroger coughed.

Spike looked from Buffy to Dawn, and said, "Hello," in a surprisingly tentative voice.

"And who is your friend?"  There was a new chill in Ms. Kroger's voice.

"Well, I'm—" Spike began, and Buffy started to say "Sp—", but Dawn interrupted them both with, "William.  He's—he's my mom's friend William.  He offered to do the shopping for us because Buffy has to go to work and won't have time."

"Your mother's friend?" Ms. Kroger's voice was incredulous now.

Spike replaced his look of surprise at Dawn's introduction with an ingratiating smile.  "Yeah, Joyce was a great lady.  Always had a cuppa for me, when I'd come over to watch the soaps with her."

"The soaps?" 

Dawn to the rescue again.  "When mom was sick, he'd come over and sit with her while Buffy and I were at school.  He—he works nights.  I'd come home and they'd be talking about Passions."

"Passions?"  Buffy swore she saw a fanatical gleam enter Ms. Kroger's eye. 

Five minutes later, she and Dawn were serving tea, while Spike sat on the couch with the social worker, earnestly discussing the fate of someone named Timmy.  Judging by the conversation, either Timmy lived in someplace even more Hellmouthy than Sunnydale, or he was fictional.  Buffy didn't want to jinx the situation by asking.

"You're amazing," she whispered to Dawn as they searched the kitchen for supplies.  Spike had bought tea, blood, peanut butter, and donuts, but not much more.  "The way you dealt with the refrigerator and kept her away from Willow was awesome, but how did you ever think up all those lies about Spike and Mom?  And I can't believe he played along!"

Dawn almost dropped the sugar bowl.  "But I didn't make that part up!  It was true.  Didn't you know that he came over here sometimes when you were at school, at least until you disinvited him?  Mom was sad about that, but said it was probably for the best since she always worried about him going evil again or frying himself between here and the sewer or something like that."

Buffy slouched against the counter as Dawn went back to the living room.  I had no idea.

Buffy slipped into the hallway as Dawn drifted by on her way back to the kitchen, probably in search of spoons or napkins or some other accoutrement to this mad tea party. 

Spike was offering Ms. Kroger a donut as if this was his crypt and he was the host.

She smiled at him in an indulgent way that reminded Buffy of Joyce's reaction to him. 

"Thank you."  Ms. Kroger leaned forward, lowering her voice so Buffy could barely make out the words.  "So, are you and Miss Summers—?"

Spike shook his head.  "Not that I haven't tried.  But my luck seems to run to cards."

Ms. Kroger laughed as if she found this very clever.  "It was very nice of you to bring the girls groceries."

He shrugged.  "I was on my way anyway, to walk the Little—to walk Dawn to her friend's house.  She's spending the night because Buffy's working late."

"Oh, yeah, I am!"  Dawn came back into the living room in time to hear that.  "I forgot Janice invited me.  I need to pack."

Ms. Kroger finished off her donut and stood up.  "Go ahead, dear.  I'll leave William to make sure you get there safely.  I'm sure he's very capable."  Once again she gathered her paraphernalia.  "Miss Summers, I don't want to make you late for work.  Perhaps you'll walk me to my car on your way?"

Buffy followed the social worker out the door and down the front steps, checking automatically for dark shapes in the yard.  I hope some demon doesn't—

No, Buffy, stop hoping for things.  You almost had her out the door the last time you thought something like that, and look what happened.

Ms. Kroger finished stowing her things in the back seat and turned to look at Buffy.  Her face was stern under the street light.  "I have a question about that young man."

"He isn't my boyfriend!" said Buffy in a panicked voice. 

Ms. Kroger blinked in the face of this vehemence.  "So he said.  I wonder why not.  It seems odd you have no interest in a handsome young man who will obviously do anything for you and your sister."  She settled into the driver’s seat.  "Just as odd as the fact that you look so tired and worried, as if you’re afraid to smile.  I had the impression you were managing much better the last time I was here.  You were so cheerful and enthusiastic.  Now it seems as if you’re not recovering well from the loss of your mother, not even as well as your sister.  I may recommend that you talk to a therapist."

Buffy was still staring, open-mouthed, as the car pulled away.

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