@bloodybigbad
Everything had been so confusing lately, and Spike's return wasn't helping. Now, on top of new enemies and too many high school girls leaving under her roof, Buffy was forced to face all those emotions she had fought so hard to repress ever since the day he had left; worse, it would have been easier to just focus on the negative, to fight him, had Spike not come back with a soul. A new man, in many ways. Yet not really, something must have gone wrong the first time around if he had remained loving enough to almost let Glory kill him for her. And now there was no space for her to attack him, to push him away. No, it was just a broken Spike who needed help, who was suffering over a soul he had purposefully gotten back, and she had no other choice but to take him home. And the more little interactions they had, the more she remembered the things they had shared, the comfort from his physical closeness, his unwavering loyalty, even as a vampire. A part of her wanted it back, even more now that she could see the tenderness in his eyes, but the other wanted to touch the scars on her neck and remind herself that they had been through too much to go back to their old ways.
Still, there she was, in the basement with him with the excuse of hiding from the girls and bringing him a mug of blood. A noise from upstairs had her rolling her eyes, so maybe not just an excuse, she really didn't enjoy having that many people in her house, and a quick glance was thrown at Spike to check if he had noticed how annoyed she was. "So. How's the blood?" Terrible conversation starter, especially for them, and Buffy cringed, "Let's pretend I didn't ask that. How's your head?" She barely, barely, resisted the urge to touch it in concern. The soul had softened her as much as it had him.
