"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Cordelia?" Buffy mouthed in confusion. Spike shook his head.

Clearing his throat, he spoke. "Allo luv. Be a sweetheart and put the dark poofini on, will ya?"

"Spike?" The cheerleader hazarded uneasily.

"Got it in one...now, Soulboy, if you don't mind." The blonde pursed his lips, eyes roaming the familiar kitchen, as he listened to the urgent, muffled conversation, exhaling as he heard the phone change hands. "Afternoon, Angelus. How is sunny LA this fine day?"

A soft growl rippled down the phone. "Cut the crap, Spike." Yup, Angel was in one hell of a pissy mood. Spike was jubilant. This was gonna be bloody priceless. Suicidal too, but what did it matter, if he had fun?

"What? No 'Its nice to hear from you' or anything?" Feigning a sob, the blonde caught Buffy glaring at him. "Anyway, here's the deal, old man. I thought I better phone you and tell you what has been happening in Sunnyhell in your...absence."

A long pause and a growl. In the background, he heard Cordelia yell something at his Sire about not vamping out in front of customers, then the sound of a door slamming. That cheerleader may have been a bit thick, but she was bloody hilarious from time to time.

Waiting as long as he dared, he beckoned Buffy closer. "I just wanted you to be the first to know," He remarked. "I'm in love...with your ex..."

The roar of fury down the phone line was deafening. A muffled snort of laughter escaped the younger vampire, his eyes flitting to Buffy's surprised ones. Then she completely knocked him for six, doing something he never expected.

She doubled over and started to laugh. Not just the occasional sad chuckle she had been giving out since Riley skipped out on her, but full-force, gut-wrenching, sidesplitting laughter, her face turning a peculiar shade of crimson.

"Um...Angel...mate...she's gone a funny colour..." The blonde on the phone blinked at her. "Is that normal? What do you mean was I joking? Of course I wasn't bloody well joking, you noncy wanker!...oh yeah?...I'd like to see you try it..." He looked to Buffy. "He says you're to take a stake and...what was that again?...I can't say that!"

Buffy's hands slapped down on the work surface, shattering the wood with the force of her mirth, her whole body shaking with laughter. Tears poured down her cheeks as she clutched at her aching sides.

"Gotta run, Shadow." The phone smacked down and the blonde cautiously approached the giggling Slayer. "Er...pet?" Dancing hazel eyes glanced briefly at him, crinkling with even more laughter. "Are you okay? You haven't been at the...er...sugar again, have you?"

Shuddering gasps ripped through her, as she tried to straighten up. "Sore..." She wheezed, her smile dazzling. For the first time in weeks she had smiled and he still couldn't figure out why on earth she had gone fruit-loopy.

"Not surprised, ducks." Helping her onto the stool, he could feel another tremor of giggles run through her. Hopefully, though, she would calm down before they headed out on patrol, maybe in time to save Willow this time.

Between demented chuckles, she managed to look and him and say - reasonably understandably - "Thanks, Spike."

Wasn't *quite* the reaction he was hoping for, but hey. She had smiled, laughed and was in pain from her giggle fits. On top of that, his Souled Nemesis was pissed to high heaven about his revelation.

So far, this Valentine's Day looked like it was going quite well.

***

"What the hell was that?" One arm around his shoulder, the Slayer's right ankle went out from beneath her, gushing thick, dark blood on the damp grass. Propelling her onward, she was grateful for her blonde, undead crutch.

Spike seemed distracted. "A Nyala Demon." He replied tautly, a dark expression on his face. "We won't get there in time...it's too bloody fast."

"Get where? In time for what?" Wincing, her limp foot scuffed along the ground. "Spike, what's the hurry?"

The anxiety in the bleach blonde's eyes mirrored that of Giles when some unforeseen threat had appeared on the Hellmouth. "It'll kill your chums." He said hollowly. "It feeds off magick users and guess where Watcher and his Witches are?"

Buffy looked up at the gateway they were hurrying towards, colour rushing from her cheeks as she realised the implication of his words. "In there?"

Nodding, the vampire was practically carrying her, as they moved as fast she could go, only to arrive to find Tara and Giles unconscious, bloody and battered on the candle-strewn ground, the boundaries of their protective circle shattered.

Releasing his bruising grip on the Slayer's waist, the anger on the vampire's face rose in ridges and fangs. "Not again! Not a-fucking- gain!"

***

Another bloody marvelous evening of watching the Slayer crying. This was getting bloody agonizing, seeing her like that and not being able to do a sodding thing.

Time for a nice experiment, to see how long this stupid 'day' would go on for. Time to see if watching a sunrise from behind the Mansion would leave him a pile of dust, or waking up in the crypt for Anya's routine fashion show.

Plopping down on a rock, his duster pulled over his knees, he stared intently towards the East, his head resting in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.

He knew which he would prefer.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

One hand slithered out from beneath the camouflage of the blankets, groping around and locking onto the chilly surface of something tall, slim, smooth and glass-like.

Said hand then swung in a graceful arc, aforementioned glassy object pinwheeling through the air in a smooth curve to shatter above the door, showering the intruder with shards of glass and the scent of stale alcohol.

Smirking out of sight, he relished the shrieks that emerged from his usual visitor...but only until a burst of pain erupted behind his eyes. "Bloody hell! What did I do? I didn't deliberately hurt anyone, did I?"

Rising into a sitting position, he glowered at the girl. She was whining, picking bits of glass out of her hair and face, several miniscule cuts open on her cheeks. "You made me bleed!" She exclaimed indignantly. "I didn't do anything to you and you made me bleed!"

Rubbing his head sleepily, his lips rose in a devilish sneer. "You know, pet, you are a wimp." She started to object, but he ignored her, swinging off his bed and stretching. "You also have bloody awful taste in blokes...not many chits are stupid enough not to see that their bloke is gay."

"Xander's not gay!" Dark eyebrows rose in amusement. "We have sex! Gay men don't have sex with girlfriends."

"Unless they don't have a boyfriend. Then they take anything they can get..." He stepped closer, smirking cruelly. "And that's what Xander is doing. He doesn't have a boyfriend and just says you're his girlfriend to shut you up and get a good shag now and then."

"You're lying!" Spreading his hands, the vampire inclined his head. "If that makes you feel better." He flashed a wicked smile at her. "But why would I? After all, the truth is just so much fun..." He ran his fingers down her cheek. "Even a former demon like yourself can see that, surely."

"You're just trying to make me hurt Xander." Pulling away, she glared at him. Briefly he wondered what she was like in her glory days. She must have been one helluva demon, in her time. "I'll go and tell him what you've said, right now."

"You do that, luv." Leaning against one of the elaborately carved columns, he oozed pure villainy for the first time in months. The last few days had been driving him nuts and now, he just wanted to piss about.

The minute the ex-demon ran, he snatched up his duster and headed out into the day, determined to screw with the Watcher's mind. That was a treat he hadn't had for...oh, it had to be months now.

***

Turning page after musty page, bespectacled eyes moved over each line of decorative latin script, lips silently following the words.

"Do you ever do anything vaguely exciting?"

The Watcher's head jerked up, eyes flicking anxiously this way and that to settle on the figure standing in the open doorway, scraps of a tattered blanket shielding him from the midday sun. "Spike." Turning his attention back to his books, he exhaled. "What do you want?"

The cigarette in the vampire's hand twisted from finger to finger, his blue eyes settling on the Englishman's bowed head. "Just had to drop by and see you, Rupert." There was no response from the bookish man. "You're so bloody sexy when you concentrate."

Even as he said it, the vampire muffled a snort of laughter with a cough. Stalking around the table, he leaned over the other man's shoulder, a wicked little grin on his lips.

From his vantage point, he completely missed the dark look that filtered into the apparently quiet man's eyes. The vampire had never heard the rumours or 'legends' of the man who had once been called Ripper.

That was soon to change as Giles slowly turned in his seat. He was delighted to let his wicked alter ego come to the surface to give the vampire an introductory course on just why the Slayer and Company didn't piss him off.

Straightening up, his nose barely millimeters from the vampire's, he propped one elbow on the table, lifting his glasses off with his other hand and carelessly depositing them on his lap. "Is that so?"

Spike's lips curved up in a predatory smirk, wondering how far he could take the taunting of this dopey, boring old man. "I would think so." He managed a brief, girlish "Eep!" as Giles' hand snagged the front of his T-shirt, jerking him down.

"I reciprocate." The Englishman's leer sent a shiver of surprise scooting down the vampire's spine, before he was able to actually grasp the fact he was being frenched by a tweed-rejecting former Watcher.

Almost tripping over his own feet, Spike fell, sprawling unceremoniously on the floor, hacking and spitting. Scrubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand, he stared at the Watcher in astonishment. "Bloody hell! What the hell are you playing at?"

Replacing his glasses as if nothing had happened, the other man turned back to his books, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't face being played at your own game, eh?"

Scrambling to his feet, drifting between disgust and admiration for his fellow Englishman, the bleached vampire tugged at the lapels of his duster, straightening the long jacket. Bending, he retrieved his cigarette and blanket. "I'm off then."

"Have a nice day, luv." There was no mistaking the impish grin Ripper flashed at the peroxide demon, only to receive a crude gesture and snarl of disgust in return.

***

"Would you just leave me alone?"

"Not a chance of it, pet."

"What do you want now?"

Sitting down on the sofa beside her, the vampire draped his arms along the back of the couch, making himself look as conspicuous as possible. "Well, here's the deal, Slayer." He traced patterns on the fabric. "It's Valentine's Day."

"And?"

Using his speed to his advantage, he had her in his arms in a heart beat, doing what he had wanted to do for months, only for the kiss to be cut of by a stab of pain just inches below his sternum.

Drawing back, he looked from her face, down to his torso. So that's what a real stake in the ribs felt like. "Love you." He managed to get out, before he felt himself crumbling into a heap of dust, his last thought lingering in the air.

**That tickled!**

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Here we go again..."

"Spike?"

"Anya."

"Who were you talking to?"

Sipping some of the blood from the cooler in his latest novelty mug, he flashed a small smile at her. "No one, pet. Now, what did you want? A recommendation of a blood type? A good way to kill your wanker? Anywhere close?"

"No." She looked offended. "I want you to help me choose a dress for my date."

Under his non-existent breath, a bored mutter escaped. "Why am I not surprised?" Clearing his throat again, he faked a grin. "So, pet, show me your best."

Once again, the deep red rivaled the frilly pink and once again, he selected the pink, advising her to add little pigtails tied with pink ribbon for maximum effect. Her dazzlingly gullible smile was repeated when he ran into her and her lover on the way to the park, that evening.

After a day in the crypt, with only liquor and depressing thoughts for company, he was suitably sloshed out of his senses, tottering along the paths and tunelessly crooning 'My Way' to anyone or anything that would listen.

Telling her she looked like a big, fluffy pink teddy bear and spilling half a bottle of Jack Daniels down the front of Xander's tux was only forgiven when he burst into tears and told both the human and former demon that he loved them.

Staggering off, ignoring their despairing looks, he'd fallen over the back of the bench, only to land in Tara's lap.

"Ewwo, pwet." A mouthful of skirt bunched in his mouth muffled his words.

He looked up to see the red head roll her eyes. Obviously, she remembered the last time she had seen him drunk. "Spike, has anyone ever told you that you should lay off the booze?"

Nodding, he carelessly pushed Tara aside and shuffled his derriere between the two girls. "Lossa people 'ave." He repeatedly fuzzily, raising his hand to stroke her hair as he had when he held her prisoner in the basement. "Never listened...Red...choo gotta do a spell...a luf spell..."

"I can't get Dru back, Spike, you know th..."

"No!" Emphatically leaning towards her, he wagged a finger in her face. "S'not Dru...I wants me a Slayer..." A dreamy look crossed his face. "Bloody 'ell...she's so bleedin' bee-oo-ti-ful! I want 'er to luf me..."

"You're very drunk, Spike." Willow's concern was obvious. "Why don't you go and...lie down until you sober up a bit. Then we can talk, okay?" She patted his hand gently. "I think it would be better if you went and slept it off."

Blinking at her, he pursed his lips, his brow furrowed, in thought. "Right...sleep...I go and sleep. Tell Slayer I luf her..."

"Right, Spike."

As the drunken vampire ambled off, bleary eyed and heavy-footed, Tara cast a confused look at her lover. "What was that about?"

"If he said what I think he said, he's the second Vampire to fall in love with Buffy." **I just hope he hasn't tried to tell her...**

***

"Slayer! Lemme in! Lemme in!"

Back against the front door, trying futilely to ignore the incessant pounding of a drunken peroxide vampire, the girl called through the wood. "Give me one good reason and I'll talk to you, okay?"

A moment's pause. "Er...I dun wanna come in, Slayer...jus' wanna talk..."

The door opened a fraction, a pair of suspicious hazel eyes gleaming in the light of the porch. "Okay. Talk, then."

Swaying on his feet, trying to focus on her, the vampire supported himself with a hand against the doorframe. "I luf you."

A smooth feminine brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"I..." Slapping a fist proudly against his chest, he jutted his chin. "Luf...You." One shaky finger pointed in her direction. "Spike lufs Slayer! Spike lufs Slayer!" A shy, sleepy, drunken grin. "I jus' luf you."

"You're drunk. It's the drink talking." The door squeaked open a little more, her slight figure silhouetted by the light beaming from inside the house. He blinked at her in bewilderment. "I think you should just go, Spike."

"Nuh-uh." A vehement no was affirmed when he dropped down, on his rear on the floor. "I'll sit guard for you. Stop the nasty bad vampires comin' for you. I'll be your speshul guard an' protect you from 'em all..."

The Slayer's mouth tightened into a steely line. "I know you're drunk." She spoke coldly, standing over him, magnificently dangerous, deadly and downright sexy. "So, I wouldn't normally do this, but...this is a special occasion."

Her fist connected with his chin, flooring the completely drunk vampire. He blinked twice, grinned, then dropped into unconsciousness. Turning on heel, the Slayer went back into the house and curled up to watch a film with her mother and sister.

Left on the porch, Spike groaned as he finally crawled out of black unconsciousness, his head throbbing insanely, aggravatingly.

Half sitting, half-sprawled on the floor, he got as far as wiggling his toes. He could still move. No broken neck, spine or organ dropped on his body. That was a good sign, at least and he still had time to get Buffy to the...

"Is Buffy in?" A bloody, tear-stained Giles stared down at him, a crude bandage swathed around his right arm, glasses missing and clothing torn.

Nodding towards the door, Spike risked a glance at his watch. Bloody great. Late again. He picked his boneless body off the floor, the door opening behind him, as he lumbered down the steps to the path.

The grinning maw of the door cast elongating beams of light after him, his shadow lengthening as he distanced himself from the house, knowing the news that the Watcher was about to deliver to her.

No tears today.

He couldn't deal with it again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike!"

Grinning down at the girl dipped over his knee, Spike tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Anya! And how are you on this absolutely bloody glorious Valentine's Day? Killed anyone? Maimed? Anything vaguely violent? Fancying going and shooting the whelp for me? Yes? Marvelous! I really appreciate it and I would happily shag your brains out if you..."

"What are you doing?" Wriggling in his grip, she squealed as he tightened his hold, eyes dancing with mischief.

"What am I doing?" Biting down on the tip of his finger, he pulled a goofy face. "I think it's safe to say I've gone nuts, pet! Stock, raving barmy with a bloody great big cherry on top for good measure."

"Huh?"

"This is my seventh sodding Valentine's Day this week!" The girl's eyebrow arched cynically over baffled brown eyes. "I've done this day already! I know why you're here, where you're going, what you'll do! I know where different people are at different times of the day...dammit, I've even been staked for trying to snog the bloody Slayer!"

"Are you...drunk, Spike?"

Shaking his head, he pulled her upright, staring wildly at her. "No! I should be! I finished every bottle of alcohol I had and then some and I'm still bloody sober! I was pissed as a fart last night and look at me! Bright eyed and bushy tailed, like a fucking squirrel!"

"I'm going to go now." Pulling away from him, she backed towards the door. "I think you've been undead and chipped too long..."

"Probably, but please can you tell the Watcher? Please? I can't be arsed going out today, unless I want to do something bloody ridiculous."

"Uh huh...whatever you say, Spike. I...think I'll go and see him right now, okay?"

The door clanged shut, leaving Spike immersed in the brooding darkness. "Hmm...Do something bloody ridiculous...who would like it if I did something bloody ridiculous?" A grin lit the crypt. "Of course!"

***

"Is yer mum in, trouble?"

Dawn grinned. "She's in the kitchen, Spike." She pulled the door wide, allowing the bleached vampire in.

"What about your sister?"

"Right here, Spike." Standing at the top of the stairs, one hand resting casually on the banister rail, the Slayer gazed impassively down at him. Her regal pose suddenly brought the image of her in Victorian gowns to the vampire.

He was caught up by the idea of himself sweeping her up in his arms and ascending a grand staircase of a manor house. **That's it. I've been overdosing on 'Gone with the Wind' and Scarlet O'Hara!**

Going for the innocent look, he bound halfway up the stairs. "You look good, Slayer." Her gaze shifted to a glare. "What would you do if I told you I loved it when you glared at me, pet?"

"Probably run screaming." She replied icily, folding her arms over her chest.

The wickedly naughty glint returned o his impish blue eyes. "God, I love it when you're angry. You're just so bloody sexy!" Taking a further step up to the exasperated Slayer, he added. "I love you, full stop."

"Can you say Eww?" Dawn muttered from the bottom of the stairs.

Buffy ignored her sister, bending close to the vampire. "You want a response to that?" Spike shrugged. Jumping lightly down to the stair above the one the vampire stood on, the Slayer smiled. "Okay." Her knee jerked up, catching the vampire firmly between the thighs and doubling him over. "How was that?"

Leaving the vampire to sink to his knees, gasping in pain, she turned and ran up the stairs, disappearing into her room. The door slammed violently behind her, a click following as she locked it.

Finally limping down the stairs, he leaned on Dawn's shoulder. Giving him a sympathetic grin, she queried. "You still wanting to see mom?"

"You bet." He grinned back at her, his thighs still clamped together in throbbing pain. "If I can't have the stupid, air-head Summers woman, I'll take the wiser and better-looking mother any day of the week."

"Is that my favourite flatterer I hear?" Joyce glanced over her shoulder as the pair stepped through the door.

"In the flesh." Straightening up, he moved around the island and dropped a fond, light kiss on her forehead. "And since you're obviously so concerned about little old me, I feel...touched...so touched in fact that I..." He dropped to one knee. "Have the strange urge to propose to you!"

Stifling a chuckle, Joyce fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I don't know what to say!"

Remembering the events of the previous year when he was on his knees in front of Buffy, he gazed as sincerely as he could at her, without laughing, and quoted. "Just say yes...and make me the happiest man alive...erm...undead..."

"Well, I would..." Hiding behind a dishcloth in mock-shyness, the corners of Joyce's lips twitched upwards. "But I can't...I could never marry a man who always ate all the mini-marshmallows...I'm so sorry, Spike..."

"I...I don't believe this! Is this just about the marshmallows?" By now, Dawn was giggling and Joyce was having keeping her expression innocent, as the vampire erupted into the worst case of overacting either of them had ever seen. On his knees, he grabbed her hands. "Please don't say no! I'll give them up, if it makes you happy! I swear! You can have the marshmallows and I'll stick to blood clots!"

"Eww!"

From his position of hugging Joyce around the legs, the vampire flashed a sulky glare at Dawn. "Don't mock it until you've tried it, trouble! I might be your step-dad soon enough, young lady. I'll show you what discipline really is!"

"Isn't that a little presumptuous?"

"Aren't I always?" Pressing his head against her stomach, he grinned up at the Slayer's mother. "That's what you love about me...that and the fact I actually finish my cocoa instead of just the marshmallows like some little brunette around here..."

Dawn pouted. "You just eat al the marshmallows. I never get any! You always steal them!"

On his feet in an instant, he covered the girl's mouth with his hand, a wide smile gleaming at Joyce. "Don't you believe her, honey! I never take candy from a baby!" Leering wickedly at Dawn, he winked. "Unless they deserve it."

"I'm sorry, Spike...I can't give you my answer now..." Hand over heart in a tragic gesture, she sighed. "I need time to think...this is such a big decision...marrying an undead demon wasn't fitted in my life plans til after I had married and divorced three millionaires..."

Returning to her side, he patted her hand, as Buffy walked in. "I understand, Joyce." Both kept their faces straight, ignoring the Slayer's presence. "This will be a big commitment, but I'll give you as long as you need to think about it..."

"What's going on?" Seeing her mother and the bleached vampire hand- in-hand was more than a little disturbing.

"Spike's gonna be our step-dad!" Dawn piped up, smoothly joining in on the joke.

The expression on the Slayer's face was priceless. A blend of confusion, outrage and blank blondness, her thoughts and questions were visible on her face, her lower lip caught between her teeth in thought.

The other three in the room couldn't stop themselves laughing. Dawn was the first to go, giggling like crazy. Joyce soon followed, leaning on Spike for support as tears of mirth poured down her cheeks. Spike just looked from the woman in his arms to the blonde Slayer and chuckled.

He had to admit that sometimes, these mortals could be bloody good fun.

***

"You're weird."

"You're not the first person to say that...but it doesn't make me a bad...actually, never mind that. It makes me bad. I'm evil! Grr!"

"And yet, you almost got engaged to my mom, if it hadn't been for marshmallows and remind me again, why are we running?"


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