It was authoritative Council talk.

Of course, Buffy Summers hated her obligations to the Council in general but especially hated doing weekly patrol summarys. Rupert Giles critiqued everything and examined all of her mistakes. He was British and as expected, it reflected in his guardianship. For the millionth time today, she wondered how Giles had become her guardian. She remembered her mother, though vaguely, as a strong independent woman who had care for her deeply. As a little girl, she recalled her mother picking her up from daycare and taking her to the neighborhood park. Not a single day would go by that Giles wouldn’t remind her of how much her mother really loved her.

When she was six, her mother Joyce had disappeared. Giles, who she had known as her distant uncle at the time, had said that her mother had died of cancer. Buffy trusted no one in the world more than Rupert Giles, but she knew that was a lie. She knew it was a lie because she didn’t remember her mother being sick. She didn’t remember doctor’s visits. She didn’t even remember any kind last words that would be expected of a dying mother; someone forced to abandon their child. If her mother had died of cancer, there would have been a moment, big or small, that would have given her some indication that her mother was going to die.

That is why she knew Joyce had been taken from her.

All she remembered was that one day her mother failed to make it home to her. And it wouldn’t be until ten years later that she would understand why.

On her sixteenth birthday, her Watcher Rupert Giles had given her a picture.

She had one picture of her father. In that picture, her mother had looked so happy. Her parents were on the beach somewhere, her mother had been wearing a tasteful one piece, while her father wore some eccentric neon color swimming trunks. He was hugging her, and she was lovingly embracing him. It was really her mother’s smile that stood out the most. There was no way to deny that she had been happy in that moment. From what she understood, her mother had just found out that she was pregnant.

Little did she know that mother had cursed her that day.

That her father and mother were apart of a thousand year legacy that would affect her life to this day. On her birthday, Giles sat there and explained to her the ideology of the slayer lineage. He had explained to her that mother had been a slayer; that she, too, would inherit her mother’s dreadful fate. He explained how a couple of old men had decided millenniums ago to infest a family line with demon blood. Each chosen female in this line would become a slayer; she alone would be the sole protector of the world and mankind’s only defense against demons, gods, and vampires.

She thought it was a curse.

Since the age of sixteen, she had been forced to put the needs of mankind above her own. The realization never truly hit her until she was expelled from school. Then Giles had thought it would be a good idea to move to Sunnydale. He had failed at the time to mention that Sunnydale sat on the top of a hellmouth. Two apocalypses later she was still fighting the good fight and trying to live up to the legacy her mother had left her.

Never once had she asked for details in the life of a slayer. She never asked how her mother had carried out her responsibilities. Never once asked for information as to what it took to completely fulfill her duties as a slayer. And she never wanted to know. She was seventeen and to everyone around her she was incredible. Buffy had succeed in being the loving surrogate daughter, the supportive friend to her essential Scooby Gang and the perfect girlfriend to her boyfriend Riley Finn. To everyone around her, she had fulfill their every expectation.

It wasn’t until her seventeenth birthday that she found out that she had failed at her most important duty of all. She had failed to produce an heir to the Slayer line --

--

“Buffy,” he started, and she knew he realized with every tear that it be best to cooperate with her wishes. Giles sympathized with her. She pictured it was just as hard for her hear his words as they were for him to say them to her. He told her it was practiced tradition of the Council to reiterate the words spoken to a Slayer on her seventeenth birthday. Regarded an honor by past Slayers, mating was considered one of the few luxuries of being a slayer. A soulmate for a slayer destined to die too quickly to find one on her own. A fate of motherhood and mate to protect that claim. This should have be a proud moment for him – for her. But she was too much of a nonconformist. She hadn’t been born into traditions. He hadn’t raised her to be. And he wasn’t one to force her into it. “I’m sorry,” he said with grieving eyes. “I should have said something sooner.”

Buffy raised from her seat in the Sunnydale High School library.

She understood his disposition, but it hard not blame him nonetheless. She shook with disbelief at first and then after a moment of silence, she looked to him. “You knew all this time that I would be forced to have a child and you said nothing?”

“You were happy,” he sighed. “I did not want to ruin that.”

She shook her head as she eyed him. “Then why my seventeenth birthday?”

“The Council gave me no choice,” he responded, picking up the letter from his desk which seemed to hold his feelings of discomfort. The coercive letter had been sent to him two days earlier. Buffy had unknowingly been the bearer of bad news when she had carried the letter from their mailbox. “They have decided that your inability to produce an heir has jeopardized the entire foundation of the Slayer legacy.”

He seemed to already know the question forming on her lips. “It was easy, in the past, to put aside your responsibilities when your sister was well. But with Dawn hospitalized, it is difficult for them to believe that the slayer line is not at risk.” It was true. Her sister was sick. With cancer. It was losing battle that she preferred not to talk about, but now it seemed to be the only issue to talk about. As long as she was alive, Dawn would never inherit the Slayer traits and unavoidably remain human. Because she was alive, Dawn would eventually die. But now it seemed that Dawn’s impending state would also change Buffy’s fate as well.

It was more bad news she didn’t need.

“What would happen if I didn’t do it?”

He maintained silent. The scenario wasn’t good.

“What if – ” Buffy started, nervousness painfully displayed on her face. “What if Riley doesn’t want to have a child?”

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion though she thought her question had been simple enough.“Maybe you’re not understanding me,” Giles uttered slowly.

“What is there to understand?” She said, blinking in dismay. But when he took his glasses off to clean them, she knew that it was an inclination that things were about to get worse. The way he looked at her, his expression so cold and vacant of the emotions he had showered on her over years. He seemed like a stranger.

With a frown he said, “Riley? I never said anything about Mr. Finn.”


–

William Stafford closed his soft-covered copy of the Prince, he realized he didn’t need her love or respect. As his chauffeured car reached the end of its journey to Sunnydale High, it was only right that he reflected on the journey that brought him here. It was after a successful watcher’s retreat in the Moroccan desert of Marrakesh. They were a group of want-to-be Watchers who had trained for years to be initiated in a ritual that had taken place for thousands of years: etcetera, and so forth. Unimportant information when compared on a scale of things.

There should have been nothing but honor to gain on that night. But it was on that night, that his life had changed forever. He did not want to say he was disgraced. As they stood there, in the extreme heat of a hundred and seven degree weather, waiting for the Headmaster to be named, he expected it to be himself. They all did. He was the strongest and boldest, a quick learner from the start. Regardless of personal feelings, they all knew he deserved the honor above all else. He supposed to lead them into the next generation as controllers of the mystical world.

Except - he wasn’t chosen.

He displayed no emotion as Wesley Wyndam- Price was designated as Headmaster of the entire Watcher’s council. The upperclassman showed an initial look of confusion but did not want to question his perceived luck. The rest of the inducted Watchers seemed to laugh at him secretly for his inability to claim what should have been his. He did not say a word. They were all inducted except for him but he did not rise an eyebrow. They all wined and dined, under the dessert’s dark sky in celebration of what was and what wasn’t. Most hadn’t even bothered to look at him; albeit, his close friend Clem had taken the time to express his condolences: once for his denied acceptance, another for his ruined birthday. He laughed at that one. He didn’t need pity or compassion or a constellation. Even in his defeat he knew he had been chosen for bigger things. It came when the retiring Headmaster Quentin Travers rose to make an announcement.

He introduced the man standing next to him as Hank Summers.

There was warmth in his voice as he said it, even as he explained the man was a vampire. He quickly went on to explain that the vampire was the mate of the current slayer. A vampire with a soul. A soul. Everyone stood frozen in awe, never having encountered one before. Travers went on to explain that Hank was there to deliver a mate to his eldest daughter.

But of course, there was a process.

How a mate was chosen for a slayer was not as simple as it sounded. The Watchers Handbook said it was a seventeen-year process, starting with the procreation of a slayer. Her father would start his search for her human mate at her birth. The chosen boy would be aged somewhere between eight and eleven. That being the only mandated criteria, the rest of the boy’s characteristic were left in the air.

Omit - his eyes had to glow; had to respond to the elder vampire’s call.

And as his eyes locked on Mr. Summer’s, he knew by the surprised gasps from his fellow Watchers that his eyes had done just that. His eyes had silently whispered that they had met before. In his repressed memory, he had called out to Hank. They had connected and at the tender age of eight, he had promised to protect this vampire’s daughter with his life. He also promised his twenty fifth birthday would mark his death; to be turned and condemned.

The night of the Watchers retreat, it had been his birthday. The night of the Watchers retreat, he had left his life and friends behind. The night of the Watchers retreat, he had died.

Oh, no. He didn’t need Buffy Summers to love him.

From what he knew, that wasn’t in the contract.

He woke up from his slumber in a stir.

His dreams yet again portraying an ideal ending he would never see-- He was human. His talks of Slayers, and Watchers were a thing of his imagination. There were no duties, no obligations and no responsibilities; No destiny, and no promises to fulfill. He was simply happy. It was an unrealistic illusion, even for his standards. As soon as he opened his eyes to dwell amongst the living, he would once again be reminded that he was dead, bitter and alone. And it was all because of one girl. He knew he wouldn’t like her. From the moment her insipid bubble of an existence surrounded him, Buffy Summers had become not of interest to him. She was a girl, barely ripe for the picking. The idea of even touching her made him sickened at the thought. Of all the games the Council had played on him, this was by far the worst.

And Spike took every opportunity to tell her so.

He hated her like vampires hated the sun.

Of course, he had no purpose to hate the sun since the Gem of Amara, granted to him by the Council, allowed him access to it; but he was sure if he were ever to be sunburned, it would feel like this. He thought that when he arrived to Sunnydale and met his future mate that maybe his feelings of resentment would fade. He wanted to think, like any rational person, that he would lay eyes of her and they would instantly know that they were meant for each other for the rest of eternity.

There were no such feelings.

The only feelings he had were same emotions of gall.

He reflected on the life he left behind as a Duke, the money he threw away to disappear from society and the people he was fated to never see again; all because of this one girl.

She didn’t even know that he had given up everything to be there for her. Too bundled in her superficial world, she hadn’t even taken the time to realize the sacrifices made for her. All she knew were her friends, her Watcher and her boyfriend. Her friends, Willow and Xander, he concluded were bearable. He respected them because they deserved it. Under the awkwardness that came with teenage adolescence, he could see their strength. He should have seen them as a liability, another human life he would have to protect as a part his destiny; instead he saw them as his only links to normalcy. They reminded him that even in his predetermined existence as a vampire he could still enjoy the company of someone human. That he could laugh and find meaning in the meaningless, and believe for a second of the day that he was human.

Giles, on the other hand, had made every effort to remind him that he wasn’t. He could tell it wasn’t done in spite. Just simply done to remind him of the responsibilities he carried. He didn’t need the reminders.

Her boyfriend was the prime example of an idiot. Captain Cardboard, as he un-affectionately called him, was as bland and clean cut as they came. He was sure from their distant stares and innocent touches that she had never been sexually satisfied by him. This girl had done nothing and seen nothing; and he wasn’t going to allow her the pleasure of doing anything. He didn’t want her, but that didn’t stop him from not wanting anyone else to have her. She was his, ‘his’ being the operative word to emphasize. Some Watcher’s Journals went as far as calling it his birthright. Of the struggles and hardships ahead, her virginity was the least she could offer.

Of course, he was going to take a lot more from her.

As discussed in private with her guardian Rupert, this girl was to be kept on a tight leash. He was in control of her destiny and even though he couldn’t stand the thought of her, he was going to make sure she lived for a very long time.

--

It had nothing to do with the fact that this was a forced pairing.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was stuffy and British.

It was just –

He wasn’t Riley.

And everyone else seemed to like that fact. William Stafford, or Spike as he liked to be called, had easily won his way into the hearts of her friends and Watcher. He was helpful, insightful, and full of demon knowledge. He had studied at Oxford and received his master’s at Cambridge. He had been raised by the Duke of Suffolk. He had been trained as a fighter by the headmaster of the Watcher’s Council and blah, blah, blah –

She didn’t care. She just wanted him gone.

To her, he was just another vampire.

But Giles continued to chime into her head that William was special. He was a vampire with a soul. That his sole mission in life was to protect her. That she should give him a chance. It didn’t matter to her, though. A vampire was just a vampire.

And she told him as much.

“That’s your opinion,” Spike scoffed as he continued to throw left punches in her direction. She hated training after-school with him, but Giles insisted that it would better prepare her for the real world if she trained with an actual vampire. “I could be an absolute monster if I wanted to be.”

She dropped her defenses at the comment. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled back as if tired of her comments altogether. But there was no way she was going to let this one go. The way he had said it made her think there was more to the story than he let on. When she first met Spike, he had irritated her to no end. His remarks were always sarcastic; his talks always aimed to remind her that even as an all-powerful Slayer, she was still inferior to his control. The only thing she did seem to like about him was his blunt honesty. He never lied to her, which was something she wished Giles would stop doing. Ever since Spike had arrived, it was as if Giles was trying to set her boundaries. He wanted to set curfews, he needed to know what she was doing, and he allowed Spike to question her every whereabouts. What was clear about all these changes were that they were meant to put some distance between her and her boyfriend.

But what they didn’t know was that it had made their bond stronger. Her constant reassurance and his unchanging dedication made their relationship feel a little more efflorescent. Though she was destined to date a jerk, she couldn’t stop herself from loving Riley. And she wasn’t going to let the peroxide blonde, standing in front of her decide it for her. Crossing her arms, she waited for him to explain himself further. With a hardened stare, he reluctantly answered, “I could report you to the Council, say you’re infertile. If that is the case, they will take the appropriate means to get rid of you. Then they would have the freedom to pass the Slayer line onto your sister.”

“My sister?!” Why her death was so easy for him fathom or why her sister’s pain was so easy for him to stomach. She couldn’t find the reason. “She’s sick.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a coolness had made her nauseous. “She's perfectly able to reproduce.”

“I would rather stake you than to see you touch my sister,” she said with a firm voice. She meant it. She would rather the world go up in flames than to have her sister suffer further.

“I would like to see you try,” he growled back to her.

Crouching into a fighting stance, he sneered, “Now either shut up or fight me.”

She didn’t want to do either. And she hoped with all her being that his ability to voice her exact thought didn’t mean he had figured her out. With a sinister smile he finished., “You’re gonna run to your Watcher, aren’t you? You think he can protect you?! No, he can’t and he wouldn’t do it if he could. If you haven’t figured it out already, I run this show.”

Anger rose in the pit of her stomach as she tried to swiftly throw a punch to his nose. He was still too quick for her advances, grabbing her fist in his right hand before she could make contact with his face. Enraged, she threw her hands in the air and recoiled from his brief touch. It was the most intimacy she was willing to share with him. Turning her back on him as he continued to grin at her frustration, she walked out of the library, feeling a sense of defeat.

His laughter rang in her head as he snickered, “Don’t you enjoy lover’s quarrels.”

--

Rupert Giles had never been the type of man to be coy. He valued his ability to be as blunt as possible, and potentially confronting his problems head on. As a distinguished member of the Watcher’s Council he had excelled above all others to become watcher of his own very unique Slayer. As marvelous as his list of accomplishments sounded, Rupert Giles still contained a flaw. The ability to lie to the person he loved the most.“He does have a point,” he sighed, closing his Watcher’s Journal as Buffy took a sit at their dining room table. “If you fail to produce an heir within the next year or so, the Council will have no choice but to get rid of you.”

“And you would let them?” Buffy screeched back. He looked to his Slayer with a pained expression.“Buffy, You know I love you...”

“But?!” she interrupted, in disbelief. He wanted to say there was no ‘but’ to that proclamation; that he loved and there was no way he would ever let pain or harm come to her, but there were ways. He had a job to do, just as she had hers.“The slayer lineage is too important of a matter to easily push aside,” he persisted with hardness. “Most slayers don’t live pass twenty. Dawn has been sick in the hospital for months now. So what happens to the world if there is no slayer to protect it?”

Looking at the tears formulating in the ducts of her eyes, he tried to soften his tone; hoping that the seriousness of her situation dawned on her. “You know that’s a thought that cannot be tolerated. I know this is hard. So as your guardian – as your friend, I must plead with you to give him a chance. He was chosen for you, destined to be your mate. How many people can say that?”

And it was the truth.

No matter how Romeo and Juliet the situation seemed, Giles needed Buffy to realize that Riley wouldn’t play a part in it. Yes, it was hard, even for himself, to picture Buffy and Spike together as a couple. They were different in upbringing, the age gap brought an enormous divergence in maturity, and the differences in personalities were insurmountable. Over the years, he had come to view Buffy as his daughter. He loved her as if she were his own blood. And no rightful father would want his daughter touched by a man that clearly didn’t love her. Still, some higher power thought there was something more to it. And he was trusting that Buffy would be taken care of.

After deep thought, he knew what the couple’s problem was: they were both too stubborn. Spike seemed to think this was all about business, while Buffy diluted herself into thinking this was a situation of all games. It wasn’t a game or a gimmick she could push aside. The world needed her. What’s more, the world needed her and Spike together. There was adversity ahead –

“The Council has sent me notice of the Anointed One’s activities,” he said, pulling out a detailed report from his assorted folders. “He’s rising an army in Sunnydale even as we speak. If you don’t start to assort yourself with Spike and open up to the idea of him as your partner, the Anointed One is going to take advantage of it. Buffy?”

“Yes?” Her voice, so innocent, he felt like the devil for even having to ask.

“Will you offer yourself to Spike?”

She would hate him but – he wanted his slayer to live.

She would always remember the first time they had met.

“You must be Buffy.”

He put his hand out to shake hers and she stared at it.

She could feel the room full of her Scooby Gang watching her for her reaction to his fairly pleasant introduction. Of course, her anger towards the situation hadn’t stopped her from noticing his good looks as she was sure they did. He was lean and charismatic, with the deepest blue eyes.

But they weren’t Riley’s.

And she did what she had done with every other male that had showed her interest, she paid him no mind. She allowed his hand to remain disgracefully in the air, while she looked to Giles in contempt.

“I see,” William chaffed back as Giles ushered them away from the others and into his closed office. “You don’t particularly like me. I’m not exactly fond of the situation myself. As you know, I do have a separate life of my own. In England, I’m what you would call a secular businessman. In addition to that I must manage my estates as the Duke of Kent.”

“I can tell from that scowl on your face that you must have arrangements of your own,” he continued as he peered out at Riley through the blinds of Giles’ office. “In that case I think we should handle this inconvenience as soon as possible. If you would rather not get to know each other beforehand that would be fine by me.”

The room went silent. Giles said nothing and she looked at him with a piqued stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she quietly hissed. She didn’t want her friend to hear them. She didn’t want them to hear her because they would pity her. In this situation, their pity would break her heart even more. She watched him shrug in confusion; obviously not understand what he had said wrong. “What?”


Giles finally chimed in, wiping his glasses and staring at everything but them. “I think you just made it sound as if she were a prostitute.”

William shook profusely. “I did no such thing.”

“Yes! You did, you ass – ”

“Buffy,” Giles interrupted her, quickly turning to William with disdain. “You should definitely apologize. If Buffy is to be the mother of your child one day you are to show her the uttermost respect. And I swear on my life, William, if Buffy doesn’t feel like she is being respected, you will never come near her. Council or not.”

He seemed to think over his words, but she didn’t care what William’s conclusion was.

“I am sorr – ” she heard him begin as she opened Giles’ door and walked away from Spike and the whole situation. She could hear their calls after her but she didn’t care. She knew what she had seen in him and how was she to depend on a man with no heart.

He was nothing to her.

And for the next couple of weeks, he remained that way to her.

The first time he had saved her life was the first time she allowed herself to feel something besides anger for him. The night had been a normal patrol, in which she refused to acknowledge he could help and he secretly followed her anyway. She hadn’t meant to admit it but she knew he followed her during patrol. At first she only sensed vampire. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that her senses started to scream Spike. She knew that every night he would watch her. Farther distances when she was lightsome, and closer distances when she was distressed. In the recent days, he had come close enough she was sure he could have touch her.

On this particular night, she had just uttered one of her notable puns when a newly risen vampire had switched their positioning. He placed his sharp teeth at the skin of her neck, and in those impending moments she knew death was guaranteed.

She closed her eyes, feeling nothing.

The nothingness was fine until she realized that her void was also physical.

There was no pain, no death, no silent release of life because the vampire in questioning had never bitten her. When she opened her eyes it was a scene she least expected. As she laid there on the ground, she found herself laying in the arms of her fated mate. He stared down at her with his piercing blue eyes and she could tell he was just as frightened as she was of the scenario. Not the impending death that had been so close to occurring but her lack of reaction to that exact thought. What was scaring her the most about those few seconds in Spike’s arms were her thoughts of nothingness.

She hadn’t felt anything. And when she opened her eyes to feel the weight of his piercing blue eyes, she realized she was being judged for her inactivity; for her nothingness.

It was the first time she realized that she had a destiny; a failed destiny.

Spike was supposed to protect her and on this particular night and all the nights previously he had not failed her. In this weird and twisted story, she was the one who was failing him. All his sacrifices were for a person who didn’t feel anything. So when he saved her – when he looked at her, the nothingness went away. She truly didn’t want his sacrifice to be for nothing. The moment he had allowed her to see his burden, she realized something she had never realized before. She could see her future; know that she had one because he was going to make sure it happened.

That changed everything –

Did it mean she would love him? Have a child with him?

No. But – Did it mean she could see his un-beating heart a little more clearly?

Yes. It did.

--

She didn’t mean to be there after midnight.

By herself.

In the Sunnydale cemetery.

And as she struggled to keep up with her target, Willow Rosenburg realized it hadn’t been one of her smartest decisions. Sighing quietly, she tried to quicken her pace. William, or Spike as he liked to be called, would not evade her tonight. With her questions, her mind remained unease. As much as it wasn’t safe for her to be outside by herself in Sunnydale, it was even less safe to leave Spike with his hidden agendas.

Of course, she hadn’t meant to find out.

She was simply curious as to why the Council thought it necessary to send Buffy two Watchers. She quickly found out that there were no books on that subject; Especially because in the thousand year plus history of the Watcher’s Council, there had never been such a thing. But there was a protector that every Watcher’s Diary seemed to allude to. A mate. Pure curiosity, she should swear that’s what it was. But when she looked it up, she had gotten more than she had bargained for. Her blood froze as she sat there in the High School library, reading page after page of a fate that awaited her best friend. According to the text, Spike was a vampire with a soul. What’s more, Spike was here to protect Buffy; even if that meant his death.

So many questions ran through her head as she ran from the library.

Was Giles keeping this secret from them?

Did Buffy know why Spike was here?

Did this fate include a relationship?

Love?

She didn’t know. But that was the part of the story that left Willow with unease. She wanted to know Spike’s role. And she also wanted him to explain why he had lied. It sounded selfish, when compared to the gravity of everything else, but she felt she deserved an explanation. She, like everyone else, had welcomed Spike into her life, no questions asked. She could see from the moment he arrived in Sunnydale that he was lonely. Buffy had taken an immediate dislike to him – and yes, she understood the reasoning now, but the situation at the time had sadden her. When Buffy wasn’t around, he was always so fun, and free-spirited, and witty, and smart. He was the first person she had ever met that she could make scientific jokes with - Was it wrong to think that made him a good person?

Most importantly, she thought he was a good person because he was there to help Buffy.

But now she had figured out the truth.

As she watched him follow Buffy, she was conflicted between being angry and feeling sorry for him. He looked like a little lost puppy as he watched Buffy in between trees and buildings. He tensed when she looked like she was in trouble; waited for her to catch her own feet. He always stayed close enough in case she really needed him. She found it strange for someone who always claimed to hate Buffy, to be so -- concerned. Normally, Buffy never let Spike join them on patrol and normally Spike never asked to. They all assumed it was for the best. No one wanted to hear Buffy and Spike argue for the hour or so while they roamed the dark streets for vampires.

Now she could see that their hate for each other might only be a one way street.

As she shortened the distance between herself and Spike, she knew he had picked up on her scent. His shoulders tensed as he turned around and looked for her. He stayed quiet as he walked between the trees to stand right in front of her. He didn’t look happy but then again neither was she. “What are you doing here?”

She gave him her serious face. “We need to talk.”

He looked around and whispered, “Couldn’t it wait?”

She shook her head. “No. I know why you’re here.”

She alluded to both of the things she knew he was hiding. She could tell by his questioning gaze that he didn’t know if she was talking about his stalker tendencies tonight or the reason he was in Sunnydale in the first place. He turned his confusion into look of innocence. Clearly he planned to deny them both. “Yeah?”

She could feel the hurt rise in her heart again. “How could you do that?!” She finally yelled out. He looked around again, she was certain, to make sure Buffy was out of hearing distance. Quickly looking back to her, he opened his mouth to interrupt, but she didn’t give him the chance. “How dare you talk and socialize with us, all the while planning to knock up my friend. I want to stake you. Except you know – I can’t,” she finished lamely, while working with her hands awkwardly. “You’re soooo lucky I watched you follow Buffy. I mean – ”

She hadn’t meant to mention that part yet. It was enough drama already, without bringing the ‘you stalk my best friend’ conversation into the mix. However, she was surprised by his reaction. He sort of looked embarrassed. Promptly, her anger changed back to compassion. Her emotions seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “Look, I didn’t mean to spy on you. I went searching for you because I was mad. I was going to march right up to your face and tell you to screw off.”

“Understandable,” he replied tightly, as he clenched his jaw.

She softened at his un-comfortableness. He wasn’t being defensive because he didn’t want her to know the truth. It was more to it than that. He didn’t want her to see his insecurity; insecurity about his place, insecurity about his mission, insecurity about himself; mainly, his insecurity about Buffy. “But – I saw you following her. So I followed you. You didn’t notice I was there. Not very attentive for someone who’s a vampire. But when I saw who you were watching, I realized why you were so distracted.”

“She didn’t even acknowledge that you were there but whenever she looked like she was in trouble, I didn’t have a doubt in the world that you’d step in and save her. Okay,” she said putting her hands up defensively, “so I don’t agree with your friends forcing this relationship on Buffy. She deserves, like anyone else, to be able to pick who she loves.”

“And I don’t want you to touch her either,” she said, quickly adding to the list of things she didn’t agree with. “But maybe,” she continued, hinting to things she had seen in him since their first meeting; hinting at the behavior he had displayed tonight. She could see his defenses breaking down at her concern and interest. “If you let her see this side of you – in the future, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could even be friends.”

She finished, sure with every intelligent cell in her body that Buffy could come to like this side of Spike.

--

It was a long and unproductive day of fighting. Of course, fighting would be barren if it’s against the person you are supposed to protect. He couldn’t help but shake his head as he followed Buffy on another night of patrol.

Things had calmed down considerably since he had arrived to Sunnydale four months ago. He had adjusted to life as a vampire. Animal blood didn’t taste nearly as appalling as it originally had and now he was getting into the routine of things. Following Buffy to school, to the Bronze, to her house, to the mall. It was hard to be indifferent when half those moments included imminent danger.

He hated to admit that there was more to Buffy Summers than he had imagined. When she was not scowling him, she could be enjoyable. His bickering which had originally stemming from his resentment had turned to being done purely for amusement. She could take him. Physically, mentally and emotionally, he was sure. She was bold, brave, and resourceful to the likes of which he had never seen.

Destiny aside, he could understand her light.

Maybe it was the destiny talking for him.

He wondered how he had quickly gone from hatred to attachment in the span of four months, but he had come to the realization that he didn’t care. The Watcher’s Council had always said that allowing a Slayer and her mate to meet at a young age was a dangerous thing. He was starting to see why. Had he met Buffy earlier in life he might have killed her; maybe have killed the entire world.

Because the longer he was near her, the more he couldn’t live without her. Knowing she was safe, knowing she was happy, knowing that no one had touched her, knowing that nothing had tainted her. And in his immaturity of his earlier teenage years, he would have suffocated her with his presence. Hurt anyone who had dared make contact with her.

No. This way was better. He was starting to realize that her life was more than worth his un-life. The night that he had saved her within seconds of it ending, he realized it would have ended his fate then and there. And he was coming to the conclusion that no fate wasn’t any better than a destined one.

“I – ,” he stalled, not really knowing what he wanted to say. Willow was naive to think that this situation would work out well. Buffy would never like him and he couldn’t bring himself to admit that he possibly could. He hadn’t wanted them to know that he watched Buffy during her days and her nights. He was fortunate that Willow had only found out about the latter. It was hard to put into words why he acted the way he did but this might be his only opportunity to do so. “I don’t feel anything,” he started. “Even with the soul, it feels as if nothing in the world matters to me. Nothing matters except making sure Buffy’s safe. The thought of harm coming to her is like having a thousand knives jabbed into my skin. Every minute of the day I worry that I’ll be one second too late. That because we don’t communicate or connect or talk for that matter, some good for nothing prick is going to get the best of her.”

He shook his head. “They don’t put this in the Watcher’s Diaries. The pull of the bond. It’s more like a push. As much as I don’t want to feel anything for the girl, something inside me. God – sometimes I wake up in sweats. It’s just unbearable.”

“You love her?” Willow swooned.

Spike had to smile at her innocence. “It’s not love, Red, but it’s all I got right now. It’s what keeps me going day in and day out. Maybe I don’t love her right now but maybe –“

Willow nodded her head excitedly at his words and smiled. “Maybe’s good.”

She liked his ‘maybe’.

He liked his ‘maybe’.

Maybe Buffy would like his ‘maybe’ too.

He was hoping it was soon.

He knew his lies were going to catch up with him. And he didn’t think Buffy or her gang would appreciate who he really was. Especially what he was doing –

--

At thee exact same moment Spike had come to his conclusions, Buffy stared at the engagement picture of Lord William Stafford and Lady Drusilla Ramsay in the Enquirer. She didn’t want to look away. All this time he had –

Suddenly, Spike was all she could think of as she stormed off to Riley’s.