***

God, what a stupid vampire. First he spouts off how much he loves her, then he kicks her out. Yeah, see how far that will get you, Spikey.

And of course she wasn't looking at him, she wasn't about to take even a peek into those gorgeous blue eyes and see all the want and love and vulnerability he kept stored up there only for her. It made her soft and susceptible to his charms, and that was an official bad thing.

She tried to peeking thing. It was a mistake. After the night in her bedroom when he coerced her into staring into those deep pools during some of the most incredible and intense sex they'd ever had she made it a rule never to do such a thing again. That way led to badness. But she figured just a little peek when he wasn't really expecting it would be ok.

She was wrong, absolutely positively dead wrong.

It was worse that time, she supposed, because when he wasn't expecting it, he had absolutely no walls up at all and that made his emotions even more raw and unbearable. It made them real to her in a way that they hadn't quite been before. She was convinced after her first glance that his feelings were real, totally convinced. But now that she'd seen it in all its naked glory, it was even more terrifying.

But most of all, it was depressing.

She didn't want to hurt him, not really. Sure, she got some enjoyment out of knocking him around a bit when she was in the mood for some rough and tumble, not of the horizontal kind, but he actually got off on that stuff she was sure. At least if the sizable bulge in his tighter than tight jeans and his voracious appetite afterwards was any indication. The real pain she would cause him, however, was not something she was looking forward to.

It was her duty, though.

Buffy had only shirked her duty once in her whole life as the chosen one, and that had ended badly, she wasn't about to run off to L.A. this time. She was going to stick it out and tell him that it would never happen. She'd given up the hope of telling him it was over completely. She wasn't stupid and she knew that sex with Spike was almost as important as food and water at this point, but she wasn't going to lead him on anymore.

The idea of a perfect little life, she and Dawn living with Spike in a happy home was an impossibility. Even if it wasn't, she wasn't so sure he's the vampire she'd shack up with when she wanted to settle down into domestic bliss. She didn't love him, never would, and even if she wanted to, which she absolutely bloody well did not, she couldn't. He was a monster, a thing, and he didn't have a soul. He may be able to love her without one, but she sure as hell couldn't love him with that void always gaping at her when she closed her eyes.

Sometimes she wondered if she was the one without the soul, that maybe Spike had inherited hers upon her death and now she was like he used to be. Either way they were a soul too short, nothing could change that.

***

***

When she returned home from her pathetic encounter with the new... Well she didn't know what they were at this point, but annoying pains in the ass seemed to sum it up nicely, there was a note on her bed, and she knew without opening it who it was from.

She was torn on whether she should be flattered or not. Then again, she supposed she would feel the same way were she to find herself suddenly in love with her mortal enemy. So the poem was fine, and the making up part sounded extra nice, but she knew that she had to make it clear to him what the rules were. He really should stop sending these damn notes. They were romantic, and that was something that whatever they had could not be.

She'd tell him tonight. Once and for all she would set the record straight, no soulgazing, no intimacy, no real conversations, especially when naked, and no more love letters.

Ok, she was ready. She just had to secure the letter with the others before she left.

***

He hadn't meant for her to get so upset about it. Didn't she understand that he was trying to make something out of nothing here and it was a bleedin' difficult task. It didn't help that she resisted what he knew she felt every goddamn step of the way.

Unbearable's what it was. If she could just relax, he'd do all the work. He'd show her what it was to live again, show her how close he and Dawn had become, show her that he could make it work, if she would just give him a single sodding chance.

He couldn't bear making love to nothing, even if he could feel her around him, he didn't like that he couldn't tell where her pretty little eyes were, and he couldn't sense what emotions were flitting across her beautiful face. He'd fucked things without visible bodies before, and he'd fucked plenty of human while he watched as they rode nothing in a mirror, but he could never make love without the visual. Dru had sometimes loved to get a mirror and watch as she rode him with her back to his chest or while she stuck something or other in his ass, but he'd hated it. She could probably see them, crazy chit that she was, she could probably see the air move around them making pictures for her alone. while they panted for unnecessary breath and rode hands or cocks or candlesticks until they couldn't walk straight.

He wasn't going to indulge Buffy in that way, she didn't have the crazy excuse going for her, and between Angelus and Angel, Spike never had to work very hard for Dru's affection.

The crypt door slammed open and revealed one of the subjects of his thoughts. So it was true, she had cut her bloody hair. He thought it felt different, but he wasn't quite sure if it was shorter or if he was just missing some because he couldn't bloody well see anything. He was hoping it was the latter, but he'd always known it wasn't. Particularly when she wouldn't give him an answer when he'd asked.

He rose to meet her and he could smell that she wasn't just there for a good time. She'd pumped herself up for something, and he wasn't sure if he should be excited or truly terrified.

He settled for a little of both. But he tried for apologetic when she looked at him.

"I'm sorry about earlier, lu-"

She didn't let him finish. She cracked him hard across the jaw with her fist and then did it again, but this time aimed for his nose. He looked up and for a brief instant she saw a little hurt and then resignation before the walls came down and he slipped on lust and slapped on a smirk.

"Ahh, so we're playin' it that way, luv. 'S fine with me, haven't gotten it good since the house fell down."

He swung his leg, knocking her feet out from under her and it began.

He'd called it a dance once, and Buffy fully realized for the first time that he was right. They weren't fighting to really hurt each other even if they were swinging their fists and feet as hard as they could.

When she didn't get with the kissing after a few good hits, he must have known she meant business because his game face came on and he growled before really throwing himself into it.

They beat on each other until they were too tired to lift their legs for a proper roundhouse, and the hits were getting pretty weak on the slayer/vampire scale. Somehow they had made it into the lower half of his crypt and Spike managed a punch to Buffy's stomach that sent her flying onto the bed, with him right after her.

She struggled for a moment, they writhed together on the bed, tearing shirts and shedding shoes in the process.

She hadn't realized that she was shaking from exhaustion and the emotion of it all until Spike let go of her wrists and wrapped his arms around her.

"Shh, luv, shh. It's alright now, Buffy, I have you, pet. I've got you, shh." He cooed and shushed her until her eyes began to droop. She reached out for his belt buckle and began trying to release him, even while she struggled to stay awake.

He batted her hands away and pulled her back to his chest, entwining his fingers with his and bringing them up to his chest. "Later, baby, we'll work it out later. Just rest, luv." His legs were tangled with hers, his lips in a permanent kiss on the back of her neck. He was breathing in her scent and holding her as close as he could.

Buffy thought before she surrendered to him and sleep that this was exactly what she had beat the shit out of him to avoid. It was too intimate, there was very little sexual about it. She could feel his erection but it wasn't insistent. Probably always there anyway if she was near. She was really going to have to work on her resolve.

"Shh, my Buffy, my love. I've got you, just sleep. I love you."

***

She awoke a few hours later to wet kisses along her shoulder and very clever hands on her breast and between her legs. She wondered briefly if he's slept at all, but figured that he hadn't. He didn't like to sleep when he was with her, took time away from Buffy watching.

She smiled sleepily and reached back a hand to grasp onto very hard, very long, very wet vampire cock. He gasped against her neck and she could feel his slow smile as he bit down softly.

"Have a nice nap, luv?"

"Mmmm... Very. But I think it's time we took care of something."

"Yeah? What's that, pet?"

Buffy lifted her leg and threw it back over his hip and positioned his dripping head at her entrance. "I think you know what."

He rubbed his shaft along her slit and licked a line from her shoulder to her neck. "You want this, luv? You want me?"

"You can feel how much I want you, how wet I am thinking about you. Now, Spike, put it in me."

He groaned and shifted, thrusting all the way in. She knew he loved it when she talked even remotely dirty, and she loved it even more when he responded.

"Oh, God, Buffy, so tight, so hot. Can you feel how hard I am for you, baby, want nothin' more than to pound you into my bed, so hard and fast, hear you scream my name, know that it's me giving this to you. But I won't do that, will I, baby. No, I'm gonna draw this out 'til you beg me to let you cum. 'S gonna be so good, Buffy."

He was giving her the long deep strokes she loved, but the pace was driving her slowly insane. She wanted him to fuck her to death, but he was going to force her to live with his damned lovemaking. She tried to push back on him, but he held her hips and whispered those vows in her ear.

Even with his measured strokes she felt the beginning of her climax as well as his own. With a move only slayer and gymnast flexibility allowed her lifted her leg and flipped her around and under him while staying firmly sheathed within her.

She had hoped he would forego the damn eye thing for one fucking night, apparently not. She was too tired to really bitch though. She just turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, trying to send the clearest message possible.

He felt what he long suspected to be his heart tighten painfully at her obvious rejection but kept moving and brought his hands up to her cheeks and turned her to face him. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers as his thrusts sped up.

"I understand." He panted harder and tried to keep tears from leaking out of the corner of his eyes. "I know, Buffy. I know you can't, or don't, or won't love me."

She felt the moisture on her face and kissed him to shut him up. This was too hard, it was too damn much to expect of her.

Certainly too much to expect of him. He shouldn't have to do this, she didn't want him to, and not just for her sake.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore." She wasn't sure, but she thought that maybe they had both just whispered that.

She opened her eyes and saw it was true. He brought his head from hers and buried it in her neck. She could tell he was close, she could feel it closing in on her too. Maybe two or three more thrusts and they'd be home.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Buffy. So fucking sorry."

He wasn't trying to hide his tears now, and she felt both the wetness on her shoulder and neck, and the way his body was shaking slightly, marring his once perfect rhythm.

"I love you so fucking much, and I can't bloody stop it!" His voice was rough and desperate, but he reached down and rubbed her just the right way in spite of it all and she came so hard she blacked out, but before she did she felt him pull out completely and move away.

***

When she came to he was sitting up, still between her legs, but his back was to her. He was shaking and his quiet sobs made Buffy's heart clench painfully in her chest. She shifted until she was pressed up behind him and reached around to hold him to her. Her hand brushed the sheets and he grabbed her wrist to stop it, but she already knew.

He'd come in the sheets.

Why the fuck had he come in the sheets.

She was confused, and a little, make that a lot hurt. What the fuck was he pulling. She didn't understand his actions enough to be truly angry, but something about it got under her skin.

He jerked up and pulled himself off the bed and the sheet with him. She watched as he paced for a moment, then sat on the floor, against the wall and buried his head in his hands. She could tell he was ashamed, she knew that emotion in Spike, but she still didn't understand just what the hell it all meant.

"What... why did you do that?"

He mumbled something softly and shook his head. She waited for a minute and he looked up, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know what to do."

"You didn't know what to do. Spike, it isn't like it's never happened before."

"Yeah, and I was a right selfish bastard every time before. I'm so sorry, Buffy."

"Selfish bastard? What the hell are you talking about, Spike?" She was getting frustrated now, it made no sense, and he wasn't helping.

"I just couldn't. I shouldn't have even been able to. Knowing what I've done to you. God, Buffy, I tried, I tried so hard to stop it. It was the only thing I could do to keep you safe. Clean. Happy."

She'd made him feel like such a monster that he couldn't even manage to come inside her without feeling guilty. She was shocked into silence for a moment, and then she saw his face. All the bruises and cuts she'd put there to teach him a lesson he was incapable of learning. God, maybe she really had lost her soul to him. "Spike, please, stop it. Just stop it."

He looked up and she got out of the bed and sat next to him, pulling him into her arms to cradle his head on her breast. He struggled at first, but she was stronger than him at this point and she won. "See what I've done to you," she traced the cuts and bruises, first on his face, then his chest and arms. "I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. I'm the fucked up one here, the one who can't love even if I want to."

She stroked his hair and kissed his temple softly. He was shaking still, though not as badly as before. "It's not just you, Spike. I don't love anyone anymore. I don't think I can, not Willow, not Xander, not Giles, not Angel, not even Dawn." She felt her own tears begin to flow. "I can't do it, I don't know why, but I can't."

Spike had shifted sometime during her confession and now he held her face between his palms. He kissed her hard, but pulled away quickly. "You're wrong, Buffy. So wrong I can't even begin to tell you all the ways. You're strong and full of love." His tone softened and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs, leaning in to kiss her chastely on her swollen lips. "You've just lost you're way for a bit, luv, just for a bit. In a little while things will be right as rain and you'll understand what love is again."

He pulled her against him and stroked her back lightly. "It's not like your malady is original or anything."

"What?"

Out of nowhere, he began a terrible rendition of "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" and Buffy couldn't help but giggle against his chest.

"Love that sound, pet. I wish you'd let the world hear it more." He bent his head and kissed her again, softly and with just the right amount to passion to remind her he always loved and wanted her. "I want to help you, Buffy. If I haven't fucked everything up royally between us." Buffy shook her head and leaned against him. "We don't have to do this, you don't have to pretend you care enough to share a bed with me, but I still want to help you. Teach you what love is." He chuckled a little.

"A vampire trying to teach a human how to love, kinda rich isn't it." He sobered and pulled her face up to look at him. "But I have learned a lot, Buffy. This summer, when... I learned what it was, how it was to care for someone so bloody much that it killed you to hear them cry, and I'm not just talking romantic love here. I care about Dawn and the witches so much it hurts sometimes. I want to try and help you see what I see."

"I want to see it too."

"Let's get up into bed, luv. Unless, you need to leave. But you could stay," he added quickly. "We don't have to do anything, just... I'll be here, with you, just reassurance that someone cares." He looked down. "Maybe I'm the one that needs it and not you."

Buffy pulled on his hand and led him to the bed, pulling him around her when she got in. "Just for a little while, everyone will wonder where I am in the morning. But we can stay. For a little while."

Spike pulled her closer and buried his nose in her hair, worried that maybe this would be the last time he'd be allowed this close. He certainly hoped not. But he was committed to her well being, and if that meant that they were to stay at arms length, he was ready for it.

"Seeing why to love the watcher and the whelp though, that'll be a right impossible task, though."

Buffy just laughed.