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She was more than glad to be out on patrol that night, everything in her rebelling against being inside for so long – especially when all she could do when she was still was think about what had happened. So yes, patrol was a welcome distraction from the pain that was still almost as strong as it had been last night. Spike had done his best to distract her for most of the afternoon, but there were times when only fresh air and maybe a spot of violence could help her battle her inner demons. Not normal probably, but being the Slayer made this kind of thing seem natural to her.

So, after dinner with her mother – who had smiled widely at the sight of Spike’s return to blonde – they set out for Sunnydale’s graveyards. As they were walking along the darkening streets, Spike suddenly paused at a turn in the road and she came to a stop beside him, watching him in confusion. He turned to her with a slight smile and nodded to the right.

“Mind if we make a quick stop-off?”

“What for?” she asked, even as she started to follow him.

It took a few moments for her to realise where she was but when she did, she came to a halt. They were on Crawford Street and she hadn’t even noticed. And sure enough, the mansion loomed in the darkness just up ahead of them.

“Spike,” she got out shakily and he stopped, turning back to her, “I- I can’t.”

He met her eyes with a concerned look and then nodded.

“I know. S’alright. Just got something I need to get.”

He took a step toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You wait here, alright? I’ll be back in a tic.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her chest tight with emotion as she slumped against a nearby wall, watching him as he jogged away along the street.



He appeared seemingly moments later – although it must have been at least a few minutes – and stopped in front of her. She looked down at his hands and her eyes went wide with surprise when she saw the bundle of black leather he was carrying.

“Spike… your coat…” she whispered, reaching out to run a delicate hand over it before looking up at him with a slight frown.

“It was time,” he said simply, unfolding the coat and slipping it on.

He stood for a moment, shrugging the jacket into place, obviously re-learning the feel of it. And then, he turned to her and gave her that oh-so-familiar smirk and with a jolt of surprised happiness, she realised that Spike was back. With the hair and the jacket, he was himself again. He had never looked so at ease before now.

They fell into step together and headed back along the street and she couldn’t help but notice he had regained some of his previous swagger. Yep, Spike was definitely back. She wondered why now, but when she thought back on his words just yesterday about the soul, she thought she knew. Like he had said, the soul was all part of him, just like William was and just like Spike was. And Spike was the part of him he knew, the part he felt most comfortable with – she recognised that. After all, from all she had gleaned from hints and occasional slips, William had been in his eyes a lesser man, a weak man.

But Spike was none of that and so he embraced this side of himself. He enjoyed it too – she could see it in the light in his eyes, in the cocky smirk. It was a barrier too, a façade to protect him, to protect that vulnerable man of whom she had caught no small number of glimpses. A vulnerable man that was not Spike, not William, but a combination of both.



He looked deadly again, back in his traditional garb and that probably helped his confidence as well. At least, he seemed to enjoy it when a fledgling took one look at him and fled. She took chase but before she could reach it, Spike was tackling him to the ground. And for the first time, she got a chance to see Spike in action, without having to worry about her own skin in the process. He was a graceful, deadly fighter, pulling out all the stops when he knew victory was within his grasp. Watching him now, she wondered how she had ever escaped death at his hands.

In seconds, the fledge was dust and he was wiping his hands and shrugging back into his jacket. He turned to her and gave her a triumphant smirk and she smiled.

“You enjoyed that far too much,” she commented, moving to his side.

“Can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it too, Slayer,” he drawled, “It’s what we do.”

“Except you’ve changed sides now,” she replied, “Which gives us even more ante.”

“And who said I changed sides?” he answered lowly, up against her in a flash, pinning her arms, his breath brushing her neck. After only a few seconds though, he released her and chuckled.

“Who am I kidding? Haven’t got that in me anymore.”

She laughed – somewhat nervously – and turned back to him, a genuine smile crossing her face when she saw the troubled look that thought gave him.

“Come on, Big Bad, plenty more baddies for you to kill to make you feel better.”

He laughed and they set off once again.



As they moved into the next graveyard, a scream instantly alerted them to danger and they raced further inside, headed for the sound. And with every pace, Spike was with her, matching her speed easily. They drew to a halt only metres away from a group of three demons who had cornered a young girl against a crypt and were closing in on her.

“Hey, Spike, looks like a party,” she quipped.

“And we weren’t invited. Now that’s a tad rude, in my book,” he answered, sizing up the three demons.

“Guess we’ll have to have our own party,” she commented with a shrug, instantly leaping forward and knocking one demon down.

The others, distracted from the girl, turned towards them now, growling. Spike instantly vaulted over them and shouted at the girl to run, turning on the nearest demon. This time, she had no opportunity to watch him fight, too caught up in defeating her own opponent.

“Go!” she heard him shout but quickly had to duck a punch from one of the demons. She could see Spike just on the periphery of her vision, just enough to know he was fine, and she turned back to her own demon. After a few carefully placed kicks, the demon was on the floor and with one swift motion, she knelt and twisted its neck, killing it. She rose to her feet again and smiled, dusting her hands.

“I needed that,” she said to herself.

Turning, she made her way over to where Spike stood, wiping her hands on her jacket.




“That was fun. I really-“

She came to a halt at his side, frowning as she looked between him and the girl on the ground. One more glance at him and she turned to him, worried by that tortured look in his eyes – something she hadn’t seen for days now.

“Spike?” she whispered softly, just touching his arm.

“One of the demons came after her…” he murmured, his voice eerily devoid of emotion, his eyes not moving from the girl’s face, “I pushed her out of the way and she fell… and hit her head.”

She took another look at the girl and moved towards her, crouching down beside her and pressing her fingers to her pulse. She gave a sigh of relief as she felt the low thud under her fingers.

“Spike,” she whispered, turning to face him, “She’s alive. She’s just unconscious.”

He wasn’t listening to her though, she could see.

“I… hurt the girl… I didn’t mean to…”

She jumped to her feet, horrified to see him in such pain, not having known he was so close to breaking.

“Spike,” she repeated firmly, standing in front of him, trying to draw his attention to her. He wouldn’t take his wide eyes off the girl though and she reached up and grabbed his face, forcing his pained eyes to hers.

“Spike, look at me. Listen to me. She’s alive. You saved her,” she said slowly, clearly, pleading him with her eyes to hear her and understand.

He shook his head, eyes drifting back to the girl but she shook him.

“Spike. Please. She’s fine.”



She wasn’t sure what it was going to take to get through to him, but was suddenly drawn from him when the girl let out a moan. She turned and crouched by her side again, throwing a quick worried glance at Spike. The girl came round and let out a moan, one hand going to her head.

“Are you okay?” Buffy asked.

The girl looked between the two of them with confusion for a moment, before nodding and sitting up slowly.

“Yeah, I… What were those things?”

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” Buffy murmured, helping the girl to her feet, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. I… My head kinda hurts, but yeah.”

“You should get it checked out, okay? Do you live near here?”

“Yeah, just round the corner actually.”

“Okay, go straight home, yeah?” Buffy said, “And get someone to help you with that.”

“Yeah. God. Thank you.”

Spike had been silent through their entire exchange but the girl turned to him then, wide eyes flicking to his face.

“You saved my life. Thank you.”



She watched the girl hurry through the graveyard and when she reached the gates, she turned to Spike worriedly.

“Spike?”

“She thanked me… and I hurt her.”

He seemed with her at least, but she could see the shock, the guilt in his eyes still.

“Spike, it was an accident,” she said firmly, taking both of his arms and shaking him slightly.

It was so strange to see him so like his old self in appearance but reverted back to that tortured man. She just hadn’t realised it could take something so simple to send him back to that place. For just a moment, she contemplated letting him drink from her – but dismissed it in the next minute. Spike had to learn to cope with this himself.

“It was an accident,” she repeated, meeting his pained gaze, “She’s fine though. She might have a bit of a headache… but she’s alive. Because of you, Spike.”

He hardly seemed to be listening and he suddenly raised his hands, looking down at them.

“Blood on my hands.”

She grabbed both hands, folding hers around them.

“There’s nothing there,” she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that she was fighting to hold back, “Spike, please. Come back to me.”



Something seemed to click and his eyes met hers.

“I’m with you, love.”

She gave a tiny sob of relief and threw herself against him, wrapping both arms around his waist and holding on tightly.

“You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, wrapping his arms around her loosely, one hand stroking over her hair.

She pulled back and studied his face intently.

“Are you really okay?”

He looked troubled for a moment but then he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t really believe him but decided to leave it, releasing him and moving to his side.

“Come on, let’s go home,” she whispered, one hand holding his arm tightly.

He nodded and fell into step beside her, the swagger gone.





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