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She had been feeling bad earlier but now she just felt absolutely wretched. She was still a little dizzy from the blood loss but when her mother went up to bed, she refused to follow, remaining downstairs. She had completely messed things up with Spike by acting like a stupid little girl and she had to make things right or she knew she would not sleep tonight. Spike had been gone for hours now and the longer he was gone, the worse she felt. If she’d just shown a little maturity, tried to act normal…

She groaned out loud and rested her head against the cushions of the couch, wishing he would come home so she could apologise. Any anger or embarrassment had disappeared the moment he had left the house because she had seen the look in his eyes just before he turned and left: she had hurt him and it was an expression she had never wanted to put on his face. How could she make things right if he stayed out all night though?

She let out a troubled sigh, curling up on the couch and drawing the throw over her. She’d just get comfortable while she waited for him. She should have known better though – moments later, she was fast asleep.



The sound of the door closing woke her and for a split second, she was confused, before she remembered why she had been waiting up.

“Spike?” she called out desperately, kicking the throw away from her frustratedly. She quickly got to her feet, a wave of dizziness passing over her, but kept herself steady as he stopped in the hallway, watching her hesitantly. She just stared at him for a long moment and then she sagged.

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted out.

His eyes snapped to hers, surprise etched into his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I was so stupid. Please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. I wasn’t even thinking, I was just… reacting and I feel so awful. I’m sorry, Spike. I’m so sorry.”

She finally came to the end of her speech – rehearsed at least five times earlier that evening – and waited in agony for his reply.

“It’s fine,” he finally answered wearily.

“No, no it’s not!” she almost shouted back, startling him, “Don’t just pretend that it’s okay. It’s not okay. It’s all gone wrong and it’s my fault.”

She could feel herself welling up and she fought against it helplessly.

“Just tell me what I can do to make it right,” she whispered, her face twisted as she fought the tears, “I can’t lose you.”



He hesitated for a moment and then in three long strides he was with her, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she sank against him, the tears unheeded as they crawled down her face.

“Shh,” he murmured into her hair, “You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Shhh.”

She couldn’t stop the tears now they had started and she buried her head against him, hands twisted in his shirt.

“I was so horrible to you.”

“Hey now,” he murmured with a small chuckle, “I’m a big boy. And that wasn’t exactly horrible, love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she choked out, hiding her face against him, “So, so stupid.”

“No, you’re not. Come on, calm down.”

She obeyed, trying to calm herself with long, deep breaths, her grip on him tightening. When she had calmed down a little, he rubbed his hand over her back.

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

She raised wide, tearful eyes to his and shook her head, averting her eyes again.

“I can’t.”

“Didn’t you tell me just last night that I could talk to you about anything? Well, the same goes for you. Talk to me.”

She hid her face against him, her cheeks flushed with colour.

“I can’t. I’m embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, love,” he murmured, his voice light with laughter, “After all, I’m the one got all soppy over that bloody film. You can always hold that against me.”



She couldn’t help but giggle but could not raise her eyes to his. She took a deep breath and pulled away from him, her eyes fixed on their feet.

“Was kissing me really that awful?” she blurted out, her eyes flying to his and then just as quickly to the floor again, her whole face reddening.

He was quiet for a painfully long time and then one hand tapped her on the chin, drawing her hesitant gaze to his.

“You really think that?” he asked, half amused, half worried.

She held his gaze for a moment before looking to the side.

“Seemed that way,” she got out with a shrug.

She felt more than heard him sigh and then she was being guided back towards the couch and she sat, unable to avoid his gaze as he knelt in front of her, one hand in hers.

“Buffy, I…” he hesitated, but forced himself to continue, “I know what Angel – Angelus – told you. The night after you… were together. Made you feel like you were nothing, I’d reckon.”

She ducked her head, not wanting him to see the pain that memory caused – only intensified by the thought that Angelus had shared it, probably laughing it up with the other vampires. With Spike.

“I can’t!” she choked out, moving to flee but being stopped as Spike caught her, forcing her gently back onto the couch. He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, guiding her gaze to him.



“You listen to me though,” he continued softly, holding her gaze, “Don’t you ever believe that, okay? Don’t let anyone make you believe it.”

“He made me feel like some… useless little girl who didn’t even know how…”

She trailed off, the memory too painful to relive.

“Shh,” he soothed, his hand stroking her cheek again, “He only wanted to hurt you.”

He paused and then raised his troubled but sincere gaze to hers.

“Buffy, kissing you was… bloody amazing.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his admission and she felt her heart beat just a tiny bit faster as she watched him avidly.

“Hear me?” he repeated, his voice lower, huskier, “Bloody amazing.”

“But?” she whispered and he gave her a tiny half-smile.

“But it’s not what you need right now. I’m not what you need right now.”

“I-“

He placed a finger against her lips, halting her.

“Just hear me out, yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes holding his, her fingers unconsciously twining tighter around his.

“You mean a lot to me, Buffy. Don’t think you realise just how much. Never imagined being so close to someone like you, someone so… so pure.”

He smiled and stroked his thumb over her jaw.

“I won’t lie to you,” he murmured, his voice almost hypnotically soft, “I want you.”

Her eyes went wide and she went to speak up but he shook his head and she stopped.

“But there’s some things more important than that.”

He paused again, seemingly searching for the right words, then he laughed lightly and met her steady gaze again.

“I’ve never had a friend like you, Buffy,” he admitted and then smiled wryly, “Never had a friend at all, really.”

She wanted to say something but forced herself to remain silent, only squeezing his hand tighter in hers.



“You’re a beautiful girl, Buffy.”

She almost did speak out in protest at that but as if sensing it, he rephrased his words.

“A beautiful young woman. So full of life and… pure, like I said. And kissing you was not awful. Not by any measure.”

He sighed and ducked his head for a moment before returning his gaze to hers.

“But I want to see you happy, Buffy. Really happy. And I… well, there’s a limit on my happiness, ain’t there?” he finished wryly.

She stayed silent for a moment, but then she spoke up hesitantly.

“So, let me get this right… you did like kissing me… and you want me… but you just want to be friends… because of your soul?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise and then smiled wryly.

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Oh my God!” she burst out, jumping to her feet and staring down at him, “You’re as bad as him, do you realise that?!”

“Buffy-“

“Just don’t!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in frustration, “God, I’m such an idiot. I thought you were different.”

“Were you even listening to a bloody word I said?!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and turning her towards him.

“I heard it all, Spike. Sounded vaguely familiar. Oh wait, you missed out the bit where I should ‘find someone real’.”

She jerked her arm out of his grip and turned her back on him, raising a weary hand to her face.

“I’m going to bed,” she sighed.



She hadn’t taken more than two steps before he caught her again, spinning her back round.

“Spike-“

Her protest was silenced as his mouth slammed down against hers, his hand threading through her hair, his other arm winding around her waist. Helpless to resist, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, succumbing to his kiss as his tongue guided her mouth open and plunged inside. She let out a helpless moan and he softened, his mouth moving gently against hers, his hand resting lightly against the back of her neck.

It was what she had dreamed of for weeks, but the reality was even more mind-blowing. She hadn’t realised until that moment just how much she really, truly wanted him. He finally pulled back, both of them panting, his eyes pained.

“You’ve ruined me, Buffy,” he murmured, his hand brushing over her hair.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, not really understanding, her hands trembling where they rested against his shoulders. He smiled painfully and traced his fingers over her jaw, his expression more troubled than she had seen it in days.

“’Course you didn’t. Probably didn’t even realise you were doing it,” he murmured absently, his hand stroking over her features.

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

“If you knew how long I’ve wanted you…”

“Spike, please,” she whispered, her voice shaking, one hand coming to his face, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean what I said.”

He opened his eyes and met her worried gaze and smiled softly.

“Yes, you did. Every word of it. And it’s true, I guess.”

He cupped her cheek in his cool hand, blue eyes fixed on hers.

“I do want you to find someone… someone ‘real’, for want of a better word.”

“And if I don’t want someone real?” she whispered painfully, knowing that the argument was already lost but unable to stop herself.

He paused for a moment, smiling sadly and brushing his thumb over her lips.

“Buffy, what I can give you… s’not even worth it.”



He pressed a short kiss to her lips and then forced himself away, troubled eyes holding hers for a long moment before he turned and made his way out of the room. She stood there staring after him for several minutes before she shook herself out of her daze, barely aware of the tears streaking down her cheeks once more. She was even more confused than she had been earlier that day.

But one thing was crystal clear: she wanted Spike. What she had thought was just a crush had revealed itself to be so much more with his kiss. And he wanted her – which should have warmed her, but the distress it caused him pained her. She had never wanted to cause him pain and now here he was, troubled because of her. Because she wanted him and wanted to force him to have her. He was right, she knew he was right – after all, hadn’t Angel already given her plenty to think about when it came to potential boyfriends? – but it didn’t stop what she felt in her heart.

It didn’t stop Spike from creeping into her heart and surprising her when she realised he had been in there for so long already, even since before Angel’s departure. Her body was still reverberating with his kiss, his words, and part of her was ready to follow him, but she held back. He had made himself clear – the risk was too great in his eyes. There was nothing to do but accept it and try to forget, try to move on.





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