Prologue

“Let the healing power begin. Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken.” Willow’s words rushed like a wave through the cavern, undoing the chaos she had unwittingly caused.

Xander shouted in astonishment as the demon he and Anya had been fighting simply vanished. “What the….”

Anya, more accustomed to what most people would find unimaginable, simply shrugged.

“Oh, ughh!” Buffy groaned loudly. She pushed herself up and stared in abject horror at the man she’d been kissing. Disgust radiated from her core. She’d been kissing Spike. She’d been lying on top of Spike, rubbing herself against him, talking in her sexy nurse voice and kissing him. She was sure there wasn’t enough hot water in the world to ever make her feel clean again. “Spike lips! Lips of Spike!”

Spike’s eyebrows came together in irritation. “Whose bloody lips were you expecting?” His shook his head. He loved the girl, but she was still a mystery.

The Beginning

Three days later, Willow closed the last book in Giles’ magic library and shook her head. “Nothing. There’s no reason that Spike should still be under the spell. His feelings should have reverted back along with everything else.”

Buffy chanced a quick glance in the direction of the vampire in question and was glad to see him looking away. He’d spent most of the past few days watching her with big sad puppy dog eyes. She knew that his feelings weren’t real, that it was just the spell and that he didn’t have a soul and couldn’t really love her, but she remembered her own experience with the spell plenty well enough to know that it felt real. She couldn’t help feeling just a little bad for him. He’d tried to argue with her at first; he said that it wasn’t a spell, that he loved her and knew she felt the same way. Then he’d tried to kiss her and she’d had to tie him up. He’d sat tied to that chair and looking like a little boy whose dog had died ever since.

Sighing, she looked back at Willow. “There has to be something you can do. Maybe a forgetting spell or something?”

Willow was skeptical but she nodded. “I’ll keep looking.”

“Good.” Buffy looked out through Giles’ window. It was full dark, time to patrol. She was glad for the distraction and the chance to expend a bit of the restless energy that made research so difficult. “Guess it’s time for me to make with the staking.” She pulled on her jacket and took a few steps towards the door. She couldn’t help but look at Spike again, all defeated and stoop shouldered in his chair. “Do you want to come?”

She wasn’t surprised to see the confusion in his expression; she still wasn’t sure what exactly had compelled her to make the offer. When he nodded, she walked over and started undoing the ropes that held him on the chair. “You’ll have to stay out of the way and if you try to help any of the vamps I’ll be all too happy to dust you.” She ignored the hopeful gleam in his eyes. “I mean it, Spike. Don’t press your luck.” She glared at him as he stood up and rolled his shoulders. The pang of guilt she felt about leaving him tied up in the same position for so long was diagnosed as a remnant from the spell and buried deep in her gut. Spike was a monster. Buffy knew that the chip made it impossible for him to hurt people but didn’t really change who or what he was. The memory of a few magic induced kisses weren’t enough to make her forget what he could and would do given the chance. She blushed at her body’s memory of those kisses, turned away from him and headed towards the door. “You better keep up.”

Buffy was careful not to look behind her. She knew he was there, keeping pace a step or two behind. Her slayer senses wouldn’t let a vampire get that close without her knowing. She’d barely been out the door before she’d started regretting her impulse to let him tag along. He was going to cause trouble. She knew it. Still she hadn’t been able to resist showing a touch of mercy. She figured sad puppy eyes earned him a walk. Now, she just hoped he used his best behavior: no biting, growling or humping legs.

They were almost at the cemetery when he broke their silence. “Are you gonna make Red do a forgetting spell?”

Frowning, she looked at him quickly over her shoulder. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Spike. I told you not to push your luck. This is just me taking pity on you because you looked so pathetic. I hate you. You hate me. As soon as we figure out what went fluey with Willow’s spell you’ll remember that too and we will all be happier.”

“Is this about Angel? Are you still in love with him?” He sounded, for all the world, like a heartbroken man and not like the Slayer of Slayers.

Buffy sighed and turned to face him. “No, Spike. It’s about a spell.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Think hard. Four days ago you hated me and then suddenly we were engaged. You have to see how weird that was.”

“The wedding was for you. You’re an all or nothing girl. Angel, that prick a few months back, they must have been blind not to see it—to see you—the gift you are. I do.”

She groaned in frustration and picked up the pace. What she needed was a vampire she could stake without feeling guilty about it, one who wasn’t muzzled with a chip and watching her with pretty blue eyes. She definitely didn’t need a pathetic soulless vampire following her around saying sweet words.

The first vampire was found and dusted with too little fuss and ceremony to be satisfying. The second one was a touch better, although Buffy wondered if the vampire was actually fast or if she was simply distracted by Spike sitting on a gravestone nearby and pouting. Either way, with two under her belt for the evening, she was feeling more like herself. She was ready to head back to Giles’ house and drop off Spike when the third vampire found her. That he was the one to seek her out was the first sign that he would be a bit more work to deal with. Generally, Buffy had found that it took vamps more than a few years to build up the cocky confidence needed to actually try for a slayer. This one was no exception. He was dressed in fairly modern clothing, but she could tell that he was old. When she looked at him, she saw the kind of pure evil that made most vampires look like kids caught shoplifting a pack of gum. This one reminded her of Angelus. The thought made her shiver involuntarily, but she covered it by smirking.

“Let’s make this quick. I rented a video that’s due back tomorrow and I still want to watch it.”



Spike watched Buffy fight her third vampire of the night and attempted to hide his interest. He loved watching her fight. The girl had far too much style to be a slayer. He was torn between nearly equal desires to be the one fighting her himself and to step up and be her knight in shining armor. This wasn’t exactly a new experience for him. Over the decades there had been a spattering of girls that had tugged on his heart strings in an entirely inappropriate way, delicate looking birds that had reminded him of William’s great wish for a pretty little woman of his own to protect and care for. Usually, he had simply killed them all the quicker for reminding him of his weaker human self. But a few times, when he’d been sure that no one was looking, he’d saved them instead. Afterwards, their grateful expressions would fill him with a confusing and unsettling mix of feelings. He was almost relieved that neither option, fighting or saving, was available to him.

Or at least he was until he saw Buffy relieved of her stake and pinned to the ground. “Slayer!” He ran towards her without a thought.

“You want a taste too, don’t you?” The monster was ripping at Buffy’s shirt, but paused to give Spike a companionable grin. “You can take a round if there’s anything left when I’m through.”

That the other vamp planned to rape her before finishing her off shouldn’t have startled Spike, he’d known plenty of vamps that enjoyed that particular sport, still the idea of anyone daring to touch her shocked him. He’d wanted to kill her himself, once upon a time, but he’d always respected her. She was The Slayer, the best he’d ever seen. Fighting her was an honor and he would have treated as such. “Sorry, mate. I don’t like to share.”

The other vampire barely had a chance to scowl before Spike slammed the stake through his chest.

Spike winced in preparation for pain that didn’t come. Frowning in confusion, he held his hand out to Buffy. She stared at him wide-eyed as she backed away.

Standing, she glared at him. “What happened to the chip, Spike?”

“Nothing!” The accusations he saw in her eyes tore holes in his heart. He’d saved her. He’d played the White Knight for her and still she saw only a monster.

“You’re not supposed to be able to fight.”

“I don’t know. Maybe—maybe it doesn’t work on other vampires. Maybe G. I. Joe was hoping we’d kill each other off. Why would I have the answers?”

He watched her consider his ideas and saw her relax her shoulders just a touch. The shredded remains of her shirt reminded him of the other vampire’s plans and he felt sick. It had been too close. He’d come far too close to losing the best thing he’d ever found.

Her sudden change of heart still confused him slightly. Only a few days had passed since she’d snuggled against him all warm and sweet while promising to love him forever. She said that it wasn’t true that it was just a spell, but he didn’t feel any different. He knew that Buffy wasn’t his anymore, but that he was still hers. Unrequited love isn’t any less true. Still, knowing that he’d be able to protect her buoyed his damaged heart. It was something. He shrugged his duster off and held it out towards her. “Here, love.”

She looked at it and back at him twice before cautiously accepting. The duster was big on him and thus nearly swallowed her small frame, but Spike couldn’t remember her ever looking more gorgeous.

He wanted to comfort her, to pick her up and cuddle her, but could tell by the way her eyes kept an uneasy watch over him that it wouldn’t be welcome.

Spike waited until they were nearly back at Giles’ house before asking quietly, “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“I don’t know how that vamp got you. You’re better than that.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “I wasn’t tonight.”

“Everyone needs a hand now and then. You let it pysch you out—you’ll end up bled.”

“Why did you help me?”

He sighed. “You know why.”

“Because you think you love me.”

“Love has nothing to do with thinking. You’re in me now—in my gut—in my blood. I feel you.” He tilted his head to the side and studied her for a moment. “I love you. You know I do.”

An Unusual House-Guest

“Giles, what am I supposed to do with him?”

“He seems keen on protecting you. I suggest you let him help with patrolling.” He was careful to avoid mentioning that the bleached vampire had proven himself to be quite helpful the previous week. The bruise left by the vampire that Spike had killed had faded, but Giles knew the memory was still plenty raw.

“I don’t need a vampire helping me on patrol.” She wanted to sound confident, but came off a bit more petulant than anything else.

“Either way, I don’t see any purpose to keeping him here. He is clearly not a danger to humans and I don’t have the time or space to continue babysitting.”

She didn’t want to worry about him. “If we send him back to his crypt there is nothing to stop the commandos from simply collecting him again. He’d be helpless, Giles.” She told herself that she wasn’t really concerned about protecting Spike, that it was just the principle of the thing. Staking vampires was acceptable. Torturing them was another matter.

Giles frowned. “Perhaps there is somewhere else then.”

It wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for, but it was the one she’d expected. Nodding, Buffy turned to Spike. “Come on.” She headed towards the door.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Somewhere else.”

Spike followed her quietly for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh.”

“I’m just making sure you stay out of trouble.”

He didn’t try talking with her again until they reached their destination. “Buffy?”

She turned to him angrily. “Do you have a better idea?” Without waiting for a response, she strolled up the walkway to 1630 Revello Drive. She opened the door and yelled out for her mother before turning back to the anxious looking vampire on the front steps. “Come in, Spike.” She didn’t make the words sound particularly welcoming, but the invitation worked anyway.



He’d tried to squelch the little flame of hope that had flashed inside when Buffy had brought him to her home, but couldn’t. Even as he sat and listened to her explain the situation to her mother in less than flattering terms, he wondered if maybe she had changed her mind again, if maybe she could love him again.

“Mom, you remember Spike?” Buffy gestured halfheartedly toward him.

Joyce was thrown slightly by his appearance, Spike could tell, but she gave him stern nod anyway. “William.”

“Right, so there are some kind of military-types catching demons and doing experiments on them.” Buffy explained quickly.

“Here?” Joyce made no attempt to hide the disgust she felt at the idea.

“Right here in Sunnydale.” Buffy shared her mother’s look of disapproval. “They got their hands on Spike and put something in his head. He can’t hurt people now. Like, really can’t hurt people. Xander could take him…while juggling with his other hand.”

“Oi! There’s no need to be so bloody cruel about it, pet!”

“Oh! That’s awful.” Joyce frowned. “Not the not hurting people, but…you know what I mean.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying to track them down, explain that demon control in Sunnydale is my gig and that I say we stake vamps not turn them into lab rats. But in the meantime, Spike…is pretty much harmless. Annoying still, but…” She shrugged.

“What can I do?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind Spike-sitting. Just let him hide out in the basement until I come up with a better idea.”

Joyce looked over at Spike in surprise. “I…well…”

“I know he’s a pain in the—but he’s been trying to be helpful and he sort of saved my life so I figure—”

“Buffy! What happened? Are you all right?” Joyce looked her daughter over quickly searching for signs of injury.

“I’m fine. No biggie—just a vamp got the better of me for a minute. I would have been able to get him eventually, but umm Spike lent a hand and saved me the trouble so I owe him a favor.”

Spike sighed. “Not why I did it.” The hope flame was barely flickering.

“Oh and he thinks he’s in love with me.”

Joyce’s eyebrows came together. “The lab guys made him think he loved you?”

“No, that was Willow.” Seeing only increased confusion on her mother’s face, Buffy hurried to continue. “By accident. We’re trying to fix it.” She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I see.”

“Can he stay here?” She turned and glared at Spike as she continued. “He’ll stay in the basement. I’ll drop off blood…if he behaves.”

“Buffy!” Joyce turned back to Spike. “Of course you can stay. With Buffy gone at school all the time, I’ll be glad to have some company.”

He gave her a small smile. “Very much obliged, Joyce.”




She was surprised at how quickly she’d gotten used to having a vampire living in her house, but Joyce supposed that had something to do with the quirky charm of the particular vampire. His manners were a touch rusty, but they were there. She knew that under all the bravado was a young man who’d been raised properly. It’s not that she forgot that he was a vampire or that she didn’t know that he’d killed before and likely wanted to again; Joyce was a practical woman. She simply accepted that it was a complex situation. Vampires needed blood and killed to get it; Joyce saw no reason to assume that this meant they couldn’t experience a full range of human emotions. She’d heard Giles and Buffy speak about vampires as though they were animals driven entirely by their urge to hunt, but most of her own experience with vampires had been with Spike and she knew he was driven by an entirely different need.

She watched him study the picture of her daughter hanging in the hallway, saw the almost reverent look in his eye as he raised a finger to trace the line of her face, and sighed. “You really love her.”

He didn’t move his eyes from the photo. “I do.”

Joyce considered her words carefully. “You know that I like you, William.”

He turned to give her a small grin. “But I’m not good enough for your daughter.”

She nodded.

“I’m not blind, Joyce. I know what I am. I know I’m a monster.” He turned back to the picture. “She’s beautiful. Gets that from you, I suspect.”

And there it is again, she thought fighting off a blush, the unexpected charm. “Do you want to see baby pictures?”

“That would put her panties in a tangle.” He saw Joyce’s disapproving frown and sobered. “I meant yes, please.”




“Come on, Buff. It’s not that bad. Kinda funny really.”

Buffy arched her brow. “What part of my having a psychotic vampire following me around with moon eyes is funny, Xander?”

Xander took a step back. “I just meant it could be worse. I mean he’s too busy worrying about you to, you know…worry about eating people.”

“My mother caught him writing love poems…to me. William the Bloody is living in my basement, writing poetry and watching soap operas with my mom. Who—by the way—thinks I should be nicer to the serial killer vampire.”

“There are poems?” Willow smiled. “That’s sweet…I mean, normally it would be sweet, right?”

“It’s Spike, Willow. Nothing about him is sweet.”

Willow wasn’t entirely sure that she agreed with Buffy there, but she was smart enough to know better than to disagree with The Slayer when she was in rant-mode. “Giles contacted some powerful witches from a coven in England. They’re going to try to help us. You just have to be patient.”

Xander sighed. “Are we sure we want to make Spike go back to trying to kill us? I mean this is big on the wiggy scale, but isn’t it better than him trying to…bite us?”

“It’s just…not right.”

The Lesser of Two Evils

Buffy pushed the door open and stomped down the basement steps. “We need to talk.”

“Would have thought your mum taught you how to knock.” Spike looked up from his book with a smirk. He could tell she was not in a good mood and had no reason to expect a pleasant visit, but he was still thrilled to see her. It had been three days since she’d last stopped by and he’d counted every minute.

“I’m serious, Spike.”

He placed the book, still open to the page he’d been reading, on the cot Joyce had helped him set up. “So was I. You’ve got me by the short hairs. We both know it. It doesn’t mean you’ve got to be such a bitch. I haven’t done a bloody thing without your express permission in weeks. A bit of common courtesy is all I’m asking for.”

Buffy lips thinned. “I’m not killing you. That’s what you get.”

His shoulders slumped and he turned away so that she wouldn’t see the hurt in his eyes. “Lucky me.”

“Arghh!” Buffy dropped down on the cot beside him. “God you’re annoying. I came to say that I’m sorry.”

He gave her a quizzical look. “What for?” Spike barely stopped himself from shaking visibly. He could think of nothing she was likely to say that was good for him.

“We can’t figure out what went wrong with the spell.”

“Oh.” He nearly sighed with relief.

“Willow can do a spell to make you forget me entirely. It will probably leave some weird holes in your memory, but it’s the best plan.”

“For who?”

“What?” Buffy shook her head. “Spike, the spell is controlling you. This will let you be…you again.”

“Do I get a choice?”

“Spike.”

He raised his voice just a touch. “Do. I. Get. A choice?” He couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to show her just how terrified he was by her plan. Swallowing hard, he set his gaze on the floor and clenched his jaw.

“I…I don’t know.”

“It’s my soddin’ head.”

“I know.” Buffy waited for a moment before trying again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. This spell…it was done to you. I’m just trying to take it back. I know that it doesn’t feel that way to you, but—”

“Do you know how old I am?”

She frowned. “Old? Like really old?”

He chuckled. “I saw my one hundredth birthday before your mother was a twinkle in her papa’s eyes. All those years—all the things I’ve seen—and you are the most perfect. You’re it. Seeing you, loving you—it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She shook her head. “Spike, I….”

Looking up at her hurt, but he did it anyway. She wasn’t looking at him with disgust anymore. Her normal glare had been replaced with watery eyes full of pity. Spike liked that look even less. “I know you don’t love me. But you did once, for a moment, and it was…the best moment, for me. So if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you don’t rip that moment out of my skull.”





Giles watched his slayer with narrowed eyes. “So you’ve decided not to remove the spell?”

“No. I mean, yes. Maybe?” Buffy shrugged. “Willow can’t figure out what went wrong with the original spell removal, so we’d have to do a pretty serious memory wipe thing and…Spike doesn’t want to.”

“Well, of course he doesn’t, Buffy. But I fail to see why his opinion is important.”

“It’s his head.”

“Such as it is, yes. But the spell is undoubtedly affecting his decision.”

“I know.” Buffy sighed.

“I must admit, however, the prospect of gaining him as an ally is not an unwelcome one.”

“You think we can trust him?”

He met her eyes with a stern glance. “Absolutely not, but I believe that he could be quite useful as long as we are careful.”

“Useful. You think we should be using him.”

“I understand your reluctance, Buffy. But he seems quite willing to help you, eager even. If you are going to consider his current opinion in regards to the memory wipe it would be…reasonable to consider his desire to assist you as well.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one he thinks he’s in love with.”

Giles rolled his eyes upward. Occasionally he wished his slayer wasn’t a child. “I am aware that there is a certain awkwardness to the situation. However, as your watcher, your safety is my first priority. Our past interactions with Spike have taught us a great deal. He has shown a remarkable tendency to protect those he cares for. That he now cares for you could prove very valuable.”

“Fine. I’ll let him help with patrols.” She didn’t sound pleased with that decision.

She refused to knock. It was her basement and he was just a stupid fangless vampire. Buffy pulled open the door and yelled. “Do you want to go on patrol tonight?”

The vampire in question walked quietly up behind her. “Yes. But I can’t. Got plans.”

Startled, she turned and scowled. “How can you have plans?”

He exhaled loudly through his nose and started to walk away.

“Spike!” She couldn’t believe he was just going to ignore her. “I thought you wanted to help with patrolling. What’s so important that you can’t do it tonight?”

When he turned back at her she could see the anger flashing in his eyes. She knew he was only barely holding back his demon face. His voice was low. “I have plans.”

“Doing what?”

Joyce walked into the kitchen and frowned at her daughter. “William said he would help me with a few things at the gallery tonight.” She turned to give Spike a quick smile. “It’s very nice having such a strong man around when I get a new delivery.”

Buffy watched in bewilderment as Spike followed her mother over to the counter and accepted a thermos.

“Thanks, love.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “That’s my thermos! Are you using my thermos for blood?”

“Buffy!” Her mother frowned. “Where are your manners? William is a guest and it is very nice of him to help me at the gallery.”

“ Besides…” Spike gave her a smirk. “It’s hot chocolate—mostly. Joyce mixes in just a smidgen of blood to give it a bit of kick—bloody delicious.”

“Eww.”

Spike shrugged and walked out the door.

“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t expect you to stop home tonight. There’s some leftover pasta in the fridge if you’re hungry. Make sure you lock up when you leave.” Joyce gave her a distracted smile before she followed Spike out the side door.

Discovering that Riley was one of the commandos they were looking for while trying to save the voices and hearts of the citizens of Sunnydale squashed their already floundering relationship. Buffy was beginning to seriously wonder if she was simply not cut out for the whole relationship deal. She had no choice but to acknowledge that her man choosing abilities sucked. Her normal guy, the boring—born in Iowa to a farming couple—guy she found to help her get away from the supernatural evil that was her daily life was actually part of a covert military torture lab. Still, she had to admit that their “dating” had made it easier for her to sneak in and take the whole place down. They’d found things in that lab that would give them all nightmares for awhile, but she’d done her job. The initiative was no more. Her bitchy psych professor had been involved in some way and had been replaced with a slightly more friendly adjunct. She wasn’t sure it helped her grade any.

But it was Christmas now and Buffy was glad to be spending a few days at home with her mom. That her home time now including seeing Spike was a minor annoyance, but one that she was determined to ignore. She was moderately surprised not to find the vampire sitting at the table for dinner, but didn’t begin to find his absence suspicious until early evening.

“Mom? Have you seen Spike today?” She tried to keep her tone casual.

“No I haven’t, honey. Why?”

Buffy frowned. “He’s been too quiet. He’s probably snuck off somewhere to cause trouble.”

Joyce nearly rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that’s not the case.”

“Right.” She stood up and headed towards the basement door.

“Try to be nice, dear. It’s Christmas.”

Buffy marched down the steps with a determined air. She absolutely expected to find Spike missing or in the very least doing something annoying. Instead, she found him reading a selection from one of the large stack of books her mother had brought home for him from the library.

“Why are you hiding?”

Spike shrugged and laid his book down. “I’m not.” He watched Buffy arch an eyebrow in response and sighed. “I just figured I’d make myself scarce. You know, let you and your mum have a bit of Christmas.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what he was saying. She’d spent the whole day thinking that he was up to something and he’d only been trying to let her have a nice Christmas. She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He gave her a little smile. “Go on. Go sing carols or something. I’ll stay out of the way.”

“You…you don’t have to. I mean, if you want to come get blood from the fridge or…” Buffy trailed off before sighing and taking a step closer. Without questioning the urge, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Spike.” She turned and left before he could respond.

The next morning she found a thin hardbound journal on the floor outside her bedroom. She whimpered before she even picked it up. It was an offering. Her mother had told her about the writing, and Buffy knew without even opening the cover that Spike had decided it was time to share. Gingerly, she bent and picked it up. A part of her was tempted to pretend she hadn’t noticed it, but she didn’t think that would really make it go away. It was her own fault; she knew that she had encouraged him the previous night. That had not been her intention. She had simply been feeling the Christmas Spirit. He’d tried to let her have a nice holiday and she’d felt grateful. Now, she wished she’d never even gone downstairs to check on him.

Joyce found her several moments later, still standing in her doorway staring at the book’s cover. “Oh.” She winced slightly. “Did he…”

“It was on the floor here. Is it what I think it is?”

Joyce nodded. “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to give it you. I wonder what made him…” She shrugged. “Christmas, I guess.”

Buffy blushed in answer to her mother’s unfinished question; she knew exactly what had made him leave the book for her. “What am I supposed to do? I thought he’d be done with this by now.”

“Well, you have to be firm. You can’t give him any reason to believe that you will change your mind.”

Buffy nodded. She’d already failed that plan. “Right.”

Joyce sighed and reached over to touch the book. “Try to be gentle though.”

“Firm but gentle?”

Joyce smiled at Buffy’s overwhelmed expression. “I know. It’s just…most of us will go our whole lives without anyone ever writing us a single poem. He wrote you a whole book. As gestures go, that is…” She blinked heavily as she trailed off.

“He’s a vampire, mom. Remember? Creepy. Blood drinking. Usually wants to kill me.”

“I know what William is, dear. Just try to remember he is also a man.”

Sighing, Buffy placed the book on her bedside table before following her mother downstairs for breakfast.

Giving her the book had been an unexpectedly bold move. Five days later, Spike was still surprised that he’d worked up the nerve. He was even more surprised that she hadn’t returned it.

That was his nightmare. He could see it clear as day. Buffy would be laughing as she dropped his words on the floor beside him, belittling the emotions that made him what he was, he’d plead for her to give him a chance and she’d only look at him with scorn.

But that hadn’t happened and each day that passed helped him clarify an entirely different scenario. Instead, he now pictured her reading his words with a secret smile. He imagined his book being kept on her bedside table so that she could lie back and let the more sensual passages wash over her.

Sitting in the living room, he could hear her stomping about her bedroom. He knew that she was getting ready to leave, that she would be meeting her friends to celebrate the New Year at the depressing little club they frequented downtown. He decided to go up and say goodnight.

“Hello, pet.” He leaned against her doorframe as though it was a casual encounter. He noted her surprise for just a moment before she hid it behind mock boredom. He also noted her attire. She was wearing his favorite colors, though barely enough of them to meet the most liberal take on public indecency laws. His demon howled with arousal from seeing so much skin and jealously at the thought of her dancing in front of other men in the outfit. He struggled to keep his warring emotions off his face. “You look nice.”

Buffy sighed. “What do you want, Spike? I’m kind of busy.”

He stepped slowly into her room and let the scents and sights sink in. “What do I want?” He was considering the many responses to her question when he saw it. His book was lying on her bedside table. His heart soared and his cock hardened. “You know what I want.” He grinned as he moved closer.

“Spike?” Buffy’s eyes widened as she watched him slink across her room.

He waited until he was close enough to feel her breath on his neck before he whispered. “You kissed me.”

“I…It was Christmas. I was just trying to be nice. It didn’t mean—”

“It’s my turn.” He didn’t give her a chance to run. He cupped her head in his palms and pulled her mouth to his. She was too startled to pull away at first and he took advantage, pressing his tongue between her lips and moaning at the taste of her. He walked her backwards until she was pressed against the wall and slid into place against her. It had been a month since their short lived engagement, but her body still felt like home. Her nipples hardened against his chest and he growled softly. “God, Buffy. I love you. I want you so much.”

She gasped and shoved him aside with a touch of slayer strength. “Stop.” Her breath came in pants. “I don’t want you.”

Spike grinned. She kept his book by her bed; he knew it had to mean something. “I think you do, pet. I think you know that we are going to be bloody fantastic together.”

“It was a spell. We are never going to happen, Spike.”

He stepped into the doorway and paused. “Yeah, it will. But I’ll give you a bit more time to get used to the idea.” He winked before walking away.

Of course she chewed him out after that. Actually, first she avoided him for a few days and then she told him that if he ever pulled a stunt like that again she would stake him, chipped or not. He’d smirked and told her that she wouldn’t be so upset if she hadn’t liked it so much. After several minutes of yelling, Spike had agreed that he wouldn’t kiss her again unless she asked him to and she had assured him that she would never ask.

Then, surprisingly, things settled down. After a couple of months, the Scoobies forgot about trying to fix the spell they assumed to be at the root of Spike’s love for the slayer and got used to seeing him join her on patrol. Buffy found that his help with patrolling made the process faster and freed her up for a little extra study time. She also found herself enjoying the company, though she was careful not to admit it. With the initiative out of the picture, Spike suggested that he could move back to his crypt but Joyce saw no reason for him to live in a dusty old graveyard when she had a perfectly good basement. Besides, she had assured him, she felt safer having him around. Spike begged her to take the statement back but she laughed and pointed out that nothing scared off bad guys quite like a bigger, badder, guy. A new pattern formed and, though Spike sometimes found it difficult to hold back the true depths of his feelings, he enjoyed his new role in the Summer’s home too much to risk losing it. More importantly, he was able to help keep Buffy safe and he knew that was far more important than winning her affections. No one knew that he still wrote her poetry each night or that his duster often hid the more physical signs of his romantic interest.

The first flowers of Spring were popping up and Spike enjoyed their scent even if he generally missed seeing them at their mid-day best. He was thinking about flowers, specifically his mother’s favorite gardens, while he sat on the porch and waited for Buffy to show up for patrol. She was late, but that wasn’t very unusual. He didn’t take it too personally. Buffy operated on Buffy-Time for a variety of reasons; he knew it was just as likely that her delay was caused by her difficulty to decide which shoes looked the best today as it was caused by an unexpected demon interruption. He wouldn’t begrudge her either. Spike’s romantic inclinations tended to require that he give ladies an abundance of leeway. Besides, he figured that time was something he had plenty of. Still, at some point, it was natural for him to begin to worry that her delay was a sign of bigger trouble. When he’d been waiting for a full hour, he started to wonder if she had canceled or changed their plans and he’d simply not gotten the message. Spike went inside and dialed the number for Joyce’s gallery, expecting to hear that Buffy had called earlier or that she had mentioned to Joyce that she had a date or something that evening.

“Hello.” Spike recognized the nasally voice of Joyce’s assistant.

“Yeah, put the boss lady on.”

“Ms. Summers is—that is she—c” The assistant stuttered and dissolved into sniffles.

“What happened?”

“Is this her friend William?”

“That’s right. Now tell me what’s going on.”

“I called her daughter, but I didn’t know how to reach you…I mean she mentions you often so I’m sure that she would want you to—”

“What the bleedin’ hell happened!”

“She collapsed. I have no idea why. The ambulance took her to Sunnydale Memorial.” He waited a moment. “Hello? William?”

Spike was already out the door.

He made it across town in minutes and burst through the doors to critical care with a scowl.

Buffy looked up at Spike in surprise. She didn’t know how he’d known to come, but it didn’t really matter. “They won’t tell me anything.”

His nostrils flared and he nodded. “I’ll see about that.”

She watched him walk away for a moment before pulling her legs up and resting her forehead on her knees. She’d never felt so helpless in her life. Slayers learned that no one was really immortal and they learned it fast. Buffy was all too aware that her mother could be gone in an instant.

“The nurse says she woke up and seems to be herself. They’re still tryin’ to puzzle out what happened though.” Spike sat down beside her on the bench.

She turned to him slowly and nodded. “Okay. That’s good. Right? I mean waking up is good. Can’t be…she’s…” Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back her sobs. It was just too much.

“Shhh, love. It’s okay.” Spike pulled her onto his lap and she didn’t even struggle. “You Summers’ girls are strong and stubborn. Your mum’s gonna pull out of this.”

She wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words bring her comfort, but she couldn’t. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she looked up at him. “But what if she doesn’t?”

“She will.” He pulled her head down against his chest and rubbed her back.

“I’m scared.”

Spike hugged her closer. “I’ve got you. You go ahead and have yourself a cry if you like.” Buffy did just that.

It felt like forever before a doctor finally came out and explained that her mother had been taken to surgery. There was something wrong with her brain. A tumor, maybe. The words meant nothing to Buffy. She nodded obediently. Yes, Doctor. Thank you, Doctor. Mommy?

Hours passed in a painful haze. Spike made her drink juice. He tried to get her to eat a sandwich from a vending machine but the smell of it turned both their stomachs. They waited.

Spike held her hand when the doctor came back and told her that the surgery was done and they had every hope that it had been successful. He walked with her when they finally let her take a peek at her mother, sleeping and pale with a bandaged head. When the doctors told her to go home, that her mother wouldn’t wake for several hours and there was nothing she could do there but worry, Spike took her home.

He watched her walk about the house in a stunned daze. “Buffy, love, the doc was right. You should try to get a bit of sleep.”

She looked up at him with a furrowed brow and he wondered if she had forgotten that he was there. It had been hours since she’d actually spoken to him. She’d nodded occasionally and had let him lead her home when he’d taken her arm, but she’d barely looked up and she hadn’t said anything.

“You’ll be better help to your mum after you’ve slept some.”

“I don’t think I can. Not yet.”

Spike nodded. He felt the same way, so he could hardly fault her for it. “Do you want something to eat or—I could heat up some soup if you’d like.”

“No. I—I feel like I should be doing something. Didn’t the doctor say something about insurance? Was I supposed to call?”

“It’s three in the morning. Unless your mum’s insurance is staffed by vampires, you’re gonna have to wait until morning.”

“Right.” She dropped down on the couch and gave a little laugh.

Spike frowned as he sat down beside her. “Buffy?”

“It’s just…what you said—vampire secretaries…”She trailed off with a slightly hysterical sounding giggle.

He chuckled softly, recognizing exhaustion as the cause of Buffy’s odd mood. “Shows what you know, smarty pants. I’ve met several vampire secretaries.”

“Vamps with jobs.” Buffy sounded skeptical.

“It happens. Tended bar at a seedy little demon establishment for a while once myself.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Flash a little fang and the tips are fantastic.”

Buffy grinned. “I’ll bet.” Her smile faltered after a moment and she sighed. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Rest, so you can put on a brave face for your mum tomorrow.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay. I guess you’re right. I’ll…” Her voice trailed off, but she waited another few minutes before heading up the stairs to her bedroom.

Spike watched her walk almost aimlessly up the stairs and listened to the sound of her turning on the shower. He waited until he heard her turn the water off and walk back to her bedroom before he went down to his cot.

An hour later, he was listening to the sounds of early risen birds when he heard her walking again. He frowned and considered going upstairs to check on her. She surprised him by opening the basement door and walking quietly down the steps.

“Buffy, pet?” He lifted himself up on his elbows.

She didn’t respond. She simply walked over and climbed on top of him.

“What are you…” Spike gasped when she pulled his mouth to hers.

She kissed him hard, almost angrily.

Torn, he pulled away. “Buffy?”

“Do you still love me?”

Spike nodded helplessly. “You know I do.” This was not good. He knew that this was not the perfect moment he’d been waiting for. “But this, it’s not what you want.” He tried to push her back a little, but she didn’t budge.

“Don’t tell me what I want.”

“But you’re all worked up about your mum, love. You’re not yourself right now.”

Buffy leaned close, bringing her mouth near his ear, and whispered. “I want you, now. Are you really saying no?”

Spike stared at her in horror. What was he supposed to say? He knew she could feel him already as hard as a rock beneath her. Could he actually send her away?

She laughed softly, teasingly. “You probably won’t ever get another chance. I mean hanging with my mom and watching soap operas—not very hot.”

She was a bitch. It was one of the things he loved about her, but it didn’t make it easier to deal with. “Is that so? Seems to have worked so far.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed with anger. “Should have known you were all talk. I’m sure I can find someone else.” She stood up and headed towards the stairs.

It was too much. Spike snapped. The thought of her offering herself to someone else hit him like a sledge hammer. His demon rose, eager to defend his pride and claim his woman. He snatched her up mid-step, tossed her back on his cot, and dropped down to hover close to her face. “No one else touches you.”

“And what could you do if they did? You’re chipped, Spikey. Remember?”

“Don’t test me. I’m too bloody fed up with your games.”

Buffy grinned smugly. “I’m just trying to get to the truth here.”

He knew, deep down under the sounds of his demon howling and her blood rushing so close to the surface, he knew that she was acting out of fear and exhaustion. She was The Slayer, she wasn’t used to waiting helplessly on the sidelines and the situation with her mother was forcing her to do just that. He understood all of that in a way that few others could, it didn’t change the situation. The girl he wanted, the girl he loved, was taunting him. She was daring him to show her just exactly what he could do. He wasn’t a good enough man not to rise to that challenge. Spike claimed her mouth with a possessive kiss and ground his erection against her.

She gasped in surprise.

“The truth? Bloody well know the truth. You know I love you. I love you so much it burns. You’ll dust me for this tomorrow and I’ll still fucking love you.” He came up on his knees, reached down and tugged her shirt up over her head. “You just remember that. You’ll forget that this was your idea.” He pressed her shoulders back down on the mattress and pulled her sleep shorts off with one quick movement. He met her eyes for a second but they were unreadable. “Remember that I love you.” His gaze slid down her body and he moaned before taking her mouth again.

Buffy’s hands dug into his hair and she held on tightly as she returned his kiss. She kissed ferociously, like he was the prey and she the monster.

Spike felt as though he was being consumed. He’d tried to take charge, had thought for a moment that he’d be able to dictate the how of this if not the when or the why. He should have known better. As always, Spike was under her control. His love for her, his need to please her and her knowledge of that need gave her all the power. When he tried kiss his way down her body, she flipped them both over and reached for the button of his jeans.

She grasped his cock in her fist. “This is what I want.”

His eyes nearly rolled back into his head. He made a sound far too much like a whimper for his comfort and reached out for her. “Buffy.”

Pushing his hands away, she moved into position over his aching staff. “Say it. Say it again.”

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “I love you, Buffy. I’ll always love you.”

She nodded just once before sliding down on him.