Spike’s internal clock woke him as the sun set. He tightened his arm around the warmth next to him, gazing sleepily at the red cloud of hair before his eyes. "Wakey, wakey, Red," he whispered in her ear.

"Mmm...." Willow murmured. "Don’t wanna." She snuggled closer to him, and he sighed.

"Ok, we can stay here all night if you want to," he said. "But if slimy orange goo monsters take over the earth tonight, I’m blaming you."

Willow frowned, her eyes still closed. "Ruin all my nice nappy-time fun," she grumbled, then stretched and sat up.

Spike grinned. "So why is it we were sleeping on the floor anyway?" he asked, standing and reaching down to help her to her feet.

"You were too drunk to make it to your bed," she said with a giggle, "So you kinda just fell down on the floor and stayed there."

"Cor, how much did I have last night?" he asked.

"Four beers, two bottles of Tequila, half a bottle of rum, six Vodkas, a few Long Island ice teas, andaboutapintofmyblood," she said, finishing the last part quickly.

"In the immortal words of Socrates, I drank what?" Spike said. "Repeat that last part, Red."

"A pint of my blood?" she said nervously. "It was part of the spell."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Is that....are you angry?" Willow asked.

"More like surprised," Spike said. He couldn’t fathom why she had trusted him so much. "I’m going to take a shower," he told her, needing some time to wake up and think. "Don’t go anywhere."

Willow nodded, then sat back down on the floor, picking up the channel changer and flipping on the television. She finally settled on the Cartoon Network, and sat back to watch "Scooby Doo."

They arrived at the cemetery and found Giles there waiting for them. They still needed to talk, but it would have to wait until after they had saved the world.

Giles walked over to them and handed Spike an ornate dagger. "To kill all of them, you need to plunge this into the heart of the leader," he said.

Spike looked at him, confused, then turned to Willow for an explanation.

"Oh, that’s right. Remember the prophesy thing?" she said. He nodded. "Well, you’re the Chosen One," she informed him. "You’re the only one who can save us tonight."

His eyes widened, and he gripped the handle of the dagger tightly.

Willow looked up at the Watcher. "Giles, where is everyone else?" she asked.

"They won’t be coming tonight," he said grimly. "They would only be in the way. It will just be Spike facing the demons, and you and I will be casting a protection spell for him."

It took twenty minutes for Spike to kill all the slime minions. Now, as he faced off with the head demon, Willow and Giles formed a protective bubble around him.

"You’ll be dead soon, boy," the creature said, leaning close to Spike.

"I’ve been dead for over a hundred years, you moron," Spike retorted, then made a face. "And if you manage to live longer than tonight, which I seriously doubt, please invest in a toothbrush, or breath mints. Consider it my last request."

He looked down briefly, noticing a drop of orange slime that had landed on his shoe.

"Bugger," he muttered. "Do you know how much pain I went through to get these shoes?"

Behind him, Willow giggled and was silenced by a glare from Giles.

"Sorry," she whispered loudly.

Spike tried not to laugh as he moved close enough to the demon to finish things.

"I had to go shopping," he said, thrusting the knife into the creature’s chest.

"With Cordelia."

He twisted it, watching as the life drained out of the beast’s eyes.

"During a bloody sale."

Spike reached out and tapped the still-standing demon and watched as it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

"Did I kill it?" he asked, as he prodded it with his toe, then yelled out in surprise as it exploded all over him.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered as he made his way back over to Willow and Giles. "Now I have to go shopping again."

He glared at Giles, who was trying his hardest not to chuckle at the vision before him.

Willow couldn’t help herself. She started laughing as a bit of orange goo dripped off Spike’s chin and hit the ground in front of him.

"Come on, Spike," she said, reaching out and taking his hand, "Let’s go home and get you cleaned up."

As they walked, Spike lit up a cigarette and took a drag, looking down when he heard Willow clear her throat. She was frowning at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Smoking isn’t good for you,” she said.

Spike snorted. “Willow, luv, I’m dead,” he reminded her.

She just continued to scowl at him. “Fine,” he sighed, stomping out the cigarette. “I won’t smoke. Happy now?”

The look she gave him was priceless. He would have done anything she asked at that moment. “Thank you,” she said.

He smiled down at her. “You’re welcome, Red.”

“Strip,” Willow ordered a few minutes later as they entered Spike’s apartment.

The vampire’s eyes widened. “Right here?” he asked.

She giggled. “No, silly, in your bedroom,” she clarified, pushing him down the hall. “Then take a shower and get that goop out of your hair.”

Once Spike had gone to do as she ordered, she began to wander around his apartment, stopping first in the kitchen to wash her hands. They were orange from when she had touched Spike, but luckily the color washed off with soap and a bit of scrubbing. Then she made her way into the bedroom that Spike had made into his office and sat down in front of his computer. When she looked at the screen, her eyes widened in surprise.