"Actually, about that offer...I am really craving some ice-cream right about now."
"It's 3am."
"So?"
He smiles, "I'm just saying -"
"Well, you almost killed me, remember! So, you owe me."
"A bit dramatic but, yeah, I - I'll get you ice-cream."
I smile, "Good."
Spike looks sheepish in the silence and I feel like he's going to apologise again. Yeah, I'm annoyed about him getting me hurt, but it's even more annoying to see that sorrowful look on his face.
"What ice-cream do you like?" I ask, and he looks taken aback by the question. He takes a moment to think.
"I like rum and raisin."
"That's the flavour my grandad gets!" I laugh, "What are you, a hundred years old?"
"A hundred and twenty nine actually," he corrects with a wry smile. "I guess it is a little, er, British. What about you?"
"I love me some classic vanilla, but will usually eat any."
We arrive outside a little ice-cream parlour. The outside is decorated with colourful neon signs and through the window, I spy cosy blue booths that are all empty. Spike opens the door for me and I thank him, heading straight over to the counter.
I feel like I've regressed to my childhood self because this place smells like pure nostalgia. I bounce on the balls of my feet while I study the endless options and spy Spike join me from the corner of my eye.
A tired-looking worker who can't be much older than me appears, looking at Spike and I wearily. I stop bouncing.
"Can I get one rum and raisin and one cookie dough please?"
I turn to Spike, "I'll grab us a seat."
I pick a booth in the corner of the place even though we're literally the only ones in here. I slip into the comfy seat, assuring myself that Spike had better be paying, and close my eyes.
I snap them open when Spike whispers my name softly.
"Huh? I'm awake."
"I didn't want to wake you if you were sleeping, but also, your ice-cream's melting."
I give him a grateful smile as he slides the tub over to me. I notice he's splashed out on sprinkles and chocolate chips but when I peer at his, it's plain.
I poke my dessert with the little plastic spoon, scooping some up. It melts on my tongue, heavenly and smooth, "This is delicious." I say mostly to myself, relaxing my shoulders.
When I look up, Spike is staring at me so intensely that he hasn't even touched his rum and raisin. A raise of my eyebrows gets Spike to look way and focus on his food.
"So, Spike. What did you say to Riley?"
He pauses. He slowly puts his spoon in his mouth but I just watch, waiting for an answer.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does!" I counter, "I want to know what made him look like he was about to faint."
Spike shakes his head, "I just told him that if he cocked it up, he..." Spike stops, "Would regret it. Maybe I used some more choice words but that's the gist."
"Sure," I say, dragging out the word - he won't tell me anymore.
"I really am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, I thought you could handle yourself-"
"Hey!" I interject, "I can handle myself. It's just... weapons make it a whole lot easier."
"Yeah. I'm sorry about your shoulder. Really. Does it hurt?"
"Well, duh." Spike's eyebrows knit, "But it's better. Riley didn't cock it up."
"Surprisingly." he mutters.
We share a small smile.
We eat our ice-cream.
He refuses to leave my side the entire night. Even when I tell him I left my cardigan at Buffy's, he follows me there. When I make a joke about a scratch card, he buys me one from a newsagents (I won $5). Then when I suggest we take the long route home, just to see if he'll comply, he nods without the slightest protest. He must feel real bad for what he did.
We end up on my doorstep just as dawn threatens to set Spike alight.
"This is where I leave you," he says, "And I am -"
"Don't, Spike. It's fine. I forgive you. Now come in before I have to get my broom and sweep you off my doormat."
He grins. He steps over the threshold and looks around my house with wide eyes. I've never let him in before because we have a joke that if I ever did, he'd probably kill me. It doesn't sound funny, I know, but you had to be there.
"I like what you've done with the place." he smirks.
"Oh, shut up. And take your shoes off." I demand with a smile.
He - surprisingly - does as he's told. He walks into my living room and takes a seat on my comfy couch. My place is pretty small because I wanted to move out as soon as possible but am also not made of money. I don't care though because I love my little space - Spike should realise what a privilege it is being allowed in.
"I'm gonna change into something more comfy. I can trust you not to break anything, right?"
Spike shakes his head, "It's insulting how little you think of me."
I stick my tongue out at him before disappearing into my bedroom. While manoeuvring out of my clothes and into my pyjamas, I move my arm a little too much and cry out in pain. Immediately, there's a knock on my door. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Spike. Go away! Put the kettle on or something!"
"Are you sure?"
Man, he's clingy tonight. After my lack of response, I hear footsteps heading into the kitchen. I hold my breath and pull my tank top over my head, biting my lip to silence a groan. I put on my shorts and slip on my slippers before pushing my hair out of my face with a fat headband.
By the time I've washed my face and have re-entered the living room, Spike is setting down two mugs on the coffee table.
"Fancied hot chocolate. Hope that's okay."
"That's fine."
Spike sits down, but before I do, I grab something I know he'll like from the kitchen. I throw the bag at him and it takes him a second to register, but once he does, he grins.
"You know me so well." he remarks as he pours way too many mini marshmallows into his cup.
"Oi, leave me some!" I hold out my mug and let him pour an equally absurd amount into mine.
We settle into the sofa and I switch on the telly, flicking through channels until I find a rerun of a romcom I like. I let it play and Spike doesn't complain about my choice which is again, surprising. I feel myself getting sleepy now, having stayed up all night. Once I've downed my drink, it's a struggle to keep my eyes open.
I doze off and awake with my head on Spike's chest. He's sleeping too and perfectly still. I look up at his peaceful face and find myself smiling. He looks quite handsome from this angle - it must be a trick of the light. I close my eyes again and sigh contently, feeling safe in his embrace.