Buffy sighed, and began to think of what had transpired between her and her former enemy. They had shared the most intimate of relations, and had both been sober and spell-free. She had no doubts that he had feelings for her, and she could admit to herself that she liked the bleached vampire more than she should. Heck, she had *begged* him to drink from her; the kicker was that he had hesitated to do so until he was sure that she really meant it.

But Spike had no soul. What did that really mean, anyway?

For Angel, a soul meant a possible eternity of torment. With the soul, he could never attain true happiness; this meant that he could co-exist with people, ‘do the right thing’, but never fall in love. Without the soul he became Angelus, and that was bad for everyone else. Goodness is thrust upon him- it’s not by choice.

Spike, on the other hand, has the chip. This piece of micro-technology embedded in his brain prevents him from physically harming humans. It does not, however, lead him to do good. Granted, if he’d never had the chip in the first place, he probably wouldn’t have been helping Buffy and the Scoobies out. But (there’s always a but) he may have eventually helped out anyway. The good he does (helping her patrol, being a good friend to Dawn...) are acts of his own volition. Chances are that if he lost his chip, he could still be on his way to becoming a better ‘man’.

The breakfast tray that appeared before her shook her out of her musings.

“Hope it’s edible, love. Haven’t exactly cooked much of anything before.” Spike sat down beside her, with a mug of O-Negative in hand.

Buffy looked down at her breakfast: eggs, toast and orange juice. Not the breakfast of kings, but all things considered, it was just right. “It’s perfect, Spike. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” She gave him an odd look. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? I didn’t hear the smoke alarm, or any breakage of bowls...”

The vampire frowned. “Well, I’m not clueless you know. Like you said--I didn’t live 120 years without learning to adapt.”

He looked at her plate, which had been nearly licked clean. “By the look of things, I guess I did a good job.” He put his empty mug on the tray, and put everything on the floor, beside the bed.

“Yeah, guess I was really hungry. Patrolling took a lot out of me last night; I usually have a snack afterwards, but I was kind of distracted by someone.” She smiled at him, and placed her head on his shoulder. There was a question she wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Uh, nothing.” *Chicken*

“Buffy, if you have a question, please ask it. No need to start hiding things from each other. Not after this morning, anyway.” He put his arm around her, and played with her hair. *Closest I’ll ever get to sunshine again.*

“Well, it’s actually about this morning.” She bit her lip, and looked at him. “Why did you vamp out? Was it just the sex, or was it because your demon was fighting to come out, or...” She broke off, and went back to staring at that spot on the comforter. “Not that I minded, the biting being gentle, but I was just wondering why?”

“I thought about how Angel was your first, and it made me angry to think that he hadn’t done it properly--that he hadn’t treated you as you deserved.”

Buffy was beyond blushing. “How do you know about that--that he was my first?”

Spike offered her an apologetic smile. “Angelus has a big mouth, and a love for showing off. Bedding the Slayer, and being her first, wasn’t something the ponce was going to keep to himself. I’m sure it comes to little consolation, pet, but I think that Dru and I were the only ones he told.”

“You’re right--it isn’t much consolation, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. That was a long time ago. I’m just happy I didn’t know about it back then.” She leaned back against the pillow, and gasped. “Oh my God, Spike!! I... we... just had sex in Dawn’s bed!! I have to clean the sheets; I have to light some candles...”