Buffy really wanted to be enjoying this fight, but just wasn't. For one, the demon was pretty stinky. For another, her head wasn't staying in the game - as much as she tried to keep focused, her thoughts kept drifting off to Giles being gone and calling Willow but not HER like he promised. That thought led to Buffy being annoyed at Willow for talking about herself the whole time last night, and for getting drunk. Which led to Buffy being embarrassed because she was also a little drunk last night, and had sort of confessed a fantasy to Spike right before aggressively kissing him. Great. While the look on the vampire's face had been very rewarding indeed, Buffy had no idea what to do about him and knew she shouldn't have acted like it was some fun sort of game.

Buffy sighed and began twirling into a high kick - and the demon knocked her grounded leg right out from under her. She landed, winded, and in a moment the demon had pounced on top of her, crouching and grinning. The Slayer squirmed (when did Captain Stinksalot get that fast?!) and tried to avoid the goo dripping off the thing's face. It reared up to take a bite or do something awful and murderous and Buffy just stared at it. She couldn't think of what to do. There was some move that might get her out of this... maybe, but was there even a point? And why wasn't the protection spell kicking in?

As Buffy lay there, just before the big crunch happened, all of a sudden a streak of black tipped with white shot at the monster and threw it off Buffy. She tuned in and realized that Spike had been shouting at her for a while.

"CHRIST Slayer, get your act together! What was that?! Going to let an idiot Porp demon get you?" the vampire yelled as he pummeled away.

Buffy got up and shook herself and went in to help. Maybe that would shut Spike up. Together, they cornered the demon - which, now that Buffy was paying attention, was actually pretty stupid - and Spike reached up, ripped off a tree branch and jammed it through the thing's throat. It died gurgling and without even taking a beat, Spike turned to Buffy.

"I haven't seen such poor fighting since Xander thought he could help patrol! What in sweet Mary's virgin panties was that, Buffy?"

Well, that was one way to take Spike's mind off making out with her. Almost get herself killed and boy would he be distracted. For some reason the thought was funny to Buffy, and she couldn't help herself from starting to giggle a little.

Spike stared at her, looking appalled. Then he turned and stalked away, muttering to himself about stupid bints dreaming about clothes instead of fighting. 

"Hey!" Buffy found herself yelling and scrambling after the bleached head. "I wasn't dreaming about clothes! Spike, come on." She knew she should just let him walk away and be mad at her, but she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to make jokes about how "Porp" demon sounded like what it smelled like and not have to go home yet. 

Buffy was right at Spike's back when he suddenly turned around, so fast that he elbowed her hard in her chest. Buffy doubled inward, pain spidering out of her breastbone, and fell back on the grass. In an instant, Spike was at her side.

"Oh lord, love, I'm sorry! Didn't mean it, my bad," he babbled, hovering over her. 

Concerned mother hen Spike face also struck Buffy as funny, and she was about to start laughing when she realized - no migraine. Spike had bounced right to her side without enough time to recover from the chip, and she hadn't heard any of his signature chip zap arghs. She sat up immediately, almost knocking Spike over.

"Spike," she said, devoid of any humor. "You didn't get a headache, just now. Did you?"

"What?" Spike looked confused at first, but Buffy saw a curtain of understanding come over his face. "Yes, I did, it was just not so bad."

"Spike. I can tell you're lying. You've never, ever, gotten zapped by the chip and not started bellowing about it."

"Come on, pet, I don't bellow," Spike was trying to smile at her.

"Is the chip not working? How long has it not been working? Are you feeding again?"

Spike just looked at Buffy, anger starting to filter into his features. She didn't care - she was furious. Here they were, playing nearly best friends and kissing in secret and Spike was keeping the biggest secret of all. If he was feeding on humans again, she WOULD stake him. She was as dumb as that Porp demon for trusting him, sharing with him! And it seemed like Willow could be right, that protection spell was bollocks, to borrow a certain soulless vampire's phrase. Soulless. Vampire. Soulless. Vampire. That was her new mantra.

"I'll have you know, I haven't tried feeding on anyone in a long time," Spike interrupted the mantra. "So if the chip isn't working, this is the first I know of it, right?"

"Fine, even if I believe you, if your chip isn't working you have to stay under supervision until we get it fixed." Buffy grabbed Spike's arm to march him - where? to her basement? somewhere, it was better than staking him. Which she would do, she just didn't want to, I mean he did love her and had gotten her a shiny magical present at great risk... if he was telling the truth, which now was questionable.

Spike wrenched his arm out of her grip. "Stay under supervision? Who do you think I am, your kid sister? And FIX it? Are you out of your bloody gourd? I'm constantly a liability because I can't fight humans!"

"That's the point of the chip, Spike, you can't fight humans!"

"There are bad humans out there too, you know!"

"SPIKE why don't you get it? If you aren't chipped, I can't trust you!" 

That ended the shouting match. Spike heard that last sentence and looked like he'd just gotten a bazooka in the gut. 

"And I don't want to lose you as a member of the team," Buffy added, trying to be honest. 

"You can't trust me?" Spike wasn't shouting anymore. His voice was low and flat. "If the only reason you let me in was because you had a muzzle on me, then you never trusted me."

The vampire turned on his heel, making his coat swirl out behind him. All of a sudden, Buffy saw him as she hadn't for a long time: a sinister creature of the undead. 

"Spike!" Buffy couldn't shake that image, all she knew was that he couldn't be on his own unchipped. She started after him.

"Don't even try with me, Slayer," Spike turned back for a minute. "Maybe you should figure out why you want me on your team - apart from me saving your life just now and all - and then we'll talk."

Buffy stopped. As Spike disappeared into the shadows of the cemetery, she tried to understand everything he'd said. He just wanted to put her off his true intentions, that was all. Of course Buffy couldn't trust him - he didn't have a soul, so without the chip what would prevent him from feeding on humans? Unless... she shook her head. Reformed soulless vampires only existed in tween fiction. She couldn't let another Angelus happen again, let her feelings for an evil - an evil - THING - get in the way of her duty. Let this friendship that had become important cost a life... 

Buffy wasn't sure why she had tears in her eyes, but she did know they blinded her as she gripped her stake and turned to follow Spike. 

***************

The vampire in question was hurting pretty badly, but not so badly he didn't know how to be practical. First things first, find out if the chip really was broken. Then he'd deal with how little the love of his life believed in him. 

As Spike made a beeline for the college campus (drunken frat boys, always worth a slug or two), he realized he didn't know what he was hoping for. That the chip was broken, or wasn't. He definitely hadn't felt a thing when he elbowed Buffy, but maybe it hadn't hurt her? Spike remembered her white face and shook his head. It had hurt, for sure. Then maybe the chip was giving him a break, because it wasn't intentional? Spike gave a sour laugh. When had it ever mattered whether he meant to hurt a human or not? He got zapped all the same. Well, off to see the wizard it was.

After punching several inebriated cave troll-esque males, Spike had a migraine that wouldn't quit and a couple of sore spots from the lads' friends trying to teach him a lesson. It seemed like the chip was working just fine, and if Buffy really was going to come after him Spike had better not incapacitate himself for her. He didn't know how serious she was - staking hadn't quite come up, but it had been in both their heads, he knew it. Honestly, who was he kidding? If Buffy was ready to stake him, if she trusted him that little, he might as well let her. There was no way she'd ever love him if she still thought of him as a dastardly vicious thing with no morals. He wanted to show her that he'd learned something of morality alongside of her, that he had no more interest in murdering people. Yeah, he missed the taste of human blood, but every delectable teenage girl was a Dawn to him now, every gorgeous California blonde a Buffy. Even these useless frat kids were a Xander, important to someone, and every time Spike thought he didn't care, he remembered the crushing blackness that had descended upon him after Buffy's jump. He could lie, and cheat, and steal, hurt and intimidate without qualm, but murder? He couldn't do it. How much of that was because he knew Buffy would repudiate him, Spike wasn't sure, but he knew that at least part of it was knowing unbearable loss. Inflicting that required the truest evil... and what was it the Three had said? "And now not so dark inside?" Hah. Joke was on old Spikey.

"Spike, there you are!" a voice interrupted Spike's semi-coherent thinking, and the vampire whirled around. He ploughed right into Xander, bumping his head hard into the human's. Mutual cries burst from both of them, but Spike's was, admittedly, a bellow. The chip was frying him yet again, so that answered the accidental question. Then what had happened with Buffy? Confused and in horrible pain, Spike let himself sink to the pavement. Let the meathead see his weakness, who cared.

"Geez, Spike, you look out of it," Xander said, rubbing his head. "You drunk or something?"

"Not a bit, but that's a damn great suggestion. What do you want?"

"Buffy is looking for you," Xander replied. "I don't know why, but she wouldn't tell me AND she looked pretty freaked so I'm assuming it's a fighting evil thing." The boy cocked his head at Spike. "Not that you look in any shape for fighting..."

She wouldn't tell the whelp why, huh? Well, that was a bit heartening. The Slayer hadn't wanted to start a witch-hunt, at least. If she was going to off him, at least it sounded like she planned on doing it in person. 

"You can tell her I'll be at my crypt," Spike told Xander. No point in putting off the inevitable. He wasn't going to leave Sunnydale, not with a Demon Lord around - no matter how silent - and his life wasn't worth much without Buffy in it. Besides, maybe it was just a fluke. 

"Great, of course I'll be messenger boy of the hour Spike, thanks for asking" Xander said. "And by the way - I don't like how much Buffy is relying on you these days. I'll be watching you, vamp boy."

"Get bent," Spike said absent-mindedly, and got up to hobble off. Xander could watch him all he wanted. The important thing now was to get the better part of a bottle of whiskey in himself before his cold-hearted lady showed up.

By the time Spike made it back to his crypt, however, Buffy was already there waiting for him. She just stood, arms crossed, and Spike was relieved not to see a stake show up immediately. He made a beeline for his liquor stash, and pulled out a full handle of self-medication. Glugging straight from the bottle, Spike sauntered back over to Buffy.

"Well, love, if you're here to dust me, I'm sorry to tell you that the chip still works."

"What? How do you know? Did you try to feed on someone already?" Buffy's voice went up in octave with each question.

"Thanks for yet another vote of confidence, love," Spike rolled his eyes and took a swig to cover the hurt. You'd think he'd have gotten used to such accusations by now. "I went over to a fraternity and tried to punch a whole house of drunken human boys. Every single one gave me one hell of a headache."

"Frat boys?" Buffy looked confused.

"They always deserve it," explained Spike. "I even accidentally headbutted Xander when he was looking for me, and that hurt so bad it just about knocked me out. So chippy chip is firing on all cylinders, Slayer. Must've been a fluke, earlier."

"A fluke...?" Buffy frowned. "Why? Unless the chip is degrading or something..."

"Could be," responded Spike, looser now a third of the whiskey was warming his insides. "Shoddy Initiative work, after all. And if that's the case, then we're just going to have to have this nice little chat eventually, won't we pet?"

"Don't call me pet," Buffy said, lamely. 

"Whatever. So you gonna stake me now, or later?" Spike could hear his own bitterness, and wondered if it mattered at all to the woman in front of him.

"Spike... I don't want to hurt you," said Buffy. "If the chip is working, I won't." She paused and walked up to Spike so they were eye to eye. "Hit me."

"What?" Spike just about dropped his whiskey. "No, Jesus, Buffy. I don't want to hit you. Under certain... circumstances," the vampire dug up an eyebrow waggle from his last reserve of snarkiness, "I'd be fine with a little kink, but not now, eh?"

"No, Spike, I'm serious." Buffy was unreadable, all of a sudden. "Hit me. What if it's me?" She paused. "What if the chip doesn't work on just me?"

Spike hadn't even considered that possibility. What was different about Buffy? He paced for a minute, taking gulps of whiskey as he did, and then it hit him. She'd been brought back from the dead. What if... what if that was why? Would that mean she was - less than human now?

"Fine," Spike said, not sure where his acquiescence came from. Maybe because he knew Buffy wouldn't give up, maybe because if she wasn't quite human... they could be not quite human together.

They faced each other, and Spike lightly slapped Buffy's arm. No pain.

"Come on, Spike!" Buffy said, angry now. "Actually hit me, you've done it before!"

"Come on, pet," he began, and then she was raining punches and kicks on him. Maybe it was reflex, or the whiskey, but out of no where and at top speed he reached out, picked her up and threw her against the wall. And she let him. Immediately contrite, the vampire rushed over to Buffy. 

"I'm so sorry, love, are you all right? I didn't mean to hurt you that badly," he told her. "I'm a wee bit drunk and you surprised me."

"That didn't hurt you, did it." It was a statement, as Buffy got up and brushed off her back. "It hurt me, but nothing happened to you, huh?"

"No," Spike admitted. 

"So it's me," Buffy's face was carved out of marble, still and too far to reach. "The chip doesn't think I'm human."

They stood staring at each other for a very long time. Finally Buffy shook herself and turned to go.  

"I guess I don't have to stake you after all," she said, dully.

"No, you don't," Spike shot back. Hearing the S word threat finally come out of her mouth rocked him, and he couldn't stop himself. "Because you're a thing like me, now, aren't you? The chip doesn't think you're human because you're not. You came back wrong, Buffy, admit it now. Have you felt right since? You seek me out, you seek out the dark, because that's what feels best. Don't you?"

The blood seeped out of Buffy's cheeks, and Spike knew he was getting to her.

"You belong with me," he changed his tone to coaxing. "We can be dark things together. We can fight on the side of the light, but as who we really are. Not quite human. Not quite good. Warriors, embracing that side of ourselves. You've felt it, Buffy, haven't you?" The vampire was almost crooning now. "You like it. The violence, the blood. You're drawn to it, to me, you wouldn't be you without your love of the dark."

"Stop, Spike," Buffy's voice was tiny, and her eyes seemed not to see him. She walked out of his crypt like she was the bot, mechanical and unaware. Spike didn't try to stop her. She'd need time, of course she would, but she'd see it his way. 

The Three came to Spike's mind, and he paused. Was this a choice? He thought for a moment, and decided that if it was, he'd made the right one. If he was meant to be her consort, then Buffy had to acknowledge her dark side. She'd made it clear that she didn't trust him as things were, so the only way anything could happen between them was if she had to change her black and white view of the world. And it wasn't like he was making it all up. The chip had confirmed something, and the Slayer did have an obvious and historic affinity for the dark. 

So why didn't he feel better? Settling into his recliner, the vampire figured it was just because he didn't like waiting, and continued to suck down good old Jameson.