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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's part 2!

Banners by xoChantelly & Edgehead
Spike let his subconscious guide him through the sewers while he pondered how to carry out his plan. The next place he found himself was a church. No... not just a church, it was the church in which he'd performed the restoration ritual for Dru.

The church was barely standing, but there was enough of it left to shield him from the bright, early afternoon sun.

Spike looked up at the altar, seeing images of Dru, Angel, and himself. "There wasn't anything I wouldn't've done for that girl..." he said with a sad sigh.

Then his eyes were drawn to where he'd been buried in rubble. Buffy was a crack shot with that incense censer... hit him right in the back of the head. He'd stumbled and fallen, and then the whole bloody church organ fell down on top of him and Dru. Spike had taken the brunt of it, he'd thrown Dru away from him when he realized he was about to be crushed.

If Dru hadn't pulled him out of the debris, he surely would've burned to a cinder. He'd only been partially burned, but his legs were useless and he'd had to suffer in that bloody wheelchair. He'd been crippled and humiliated... because of Buffy. But he didn't blame or resent Buffy for what she'd done (though, he did at the time). Spike understood how it was between vamps and Slayers more than anyone else -- he'd had his job to do, and she'd had hers.

Spike wondered why his subconscious would lead him here, this church would be among the last places he'd ever want to revisit. He was a different person back then, living a different life. And he preferred not thinking about how he'd almost snuffed it here... with Buffy all protective and moonin' over Angel.

He smiled a bit as he remembered Buffy switching with the other Slayer to fight with him.

Spike had said, 'I'd rather be fighting you, anyway.'

Buffy replied, 'Mutual.'

Even though those memories weren't of good times, they were a part of the dance Spike and Buffy had been waltzing to from the beginning. Every fight, every catty exchange, and every unexpected act of kindness or mercy -- all of those things were bricks in the road that led them to being close like they were last night.

And then Spike realized why his unconscious mind had taken him to the mansion and now this church -- he was walking down memory lane, visiting places that held some significance in his relationship with Buffy. It was his way of saying goodbye to her, to the monster he was, and the man he'd become... only there was more monster left in the man than Spike had suspected. He was saying goodbye to... everything.

"Had enough of this bloody place too." Spike flicked his cigarette into a pile of debris, then covered himself with his blanket and took off for the sewers again.





Spike's next stop was the old factory he and Drusilla had lived in when they'd first moved into town. He smiled at the memory of getting rid of the 'Annoying One'. Spike had done enough of the bidding of other creatures, he wasn't about to let a spotty little boy order him around. And he recalled another time when Rupert came barging in and tried to take Angelus out for killing his girlfriend. It was foolhardy for Giles to even think about doing that, but Spike could understand -- if someone dared kill the woman he loved... Spike's wrath would be terrible; there wouldn't be enough left of the bastard to sweep into a bin.

Once again, he saw ghostly images of the players acting out scenes from the past. He saw when he'd come back here after Dru dumped him for the first time. He'd been so lost, so unhappy without her. Buffy had called him 'a shell of a loser', and she hadn't been wrong. Spike didn't know he was in love with Buffy back then, his conscious and subconscious minds weren't on speaking terms, he only knew he was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

Spike sighed and headed for the exit. He had a few more stops to make on his walk down traumatic memory lane. Next up would be the old Sunnydale High where he and Buffy had had their first real fight. But first, he had to visit the mines and see if the stash of TNT was where he'd left it.





Spike found the crates of TNT he'd hidden, then moved them (slowly and carefully) near the sewer entrance to the lower crypt. He didn't know if they were any good anymore, he'd have to find out the hard way -- when the charges he set went off or didn't go off when planned. He also planned on having a few sticks of dynamite on his body, if he could get Glory in a bear hug while one went off, he figured that would be the end of her (and him). But that might be the only way to guarantee that Glory would die.

Since Spike was near the crypt, he waited for the sun to set, and then returned the motorcycle to the guy he'd borrowed it from at the garage. He didn't want to leave any loose ends.

After that, Spike went to the old high school. He sighed and smiled, thinking how magnificent Buffy was that night. She was so beautiful, cunning, and strong. She'd kicked his ass (with a little help from her mum). It was foolish of him to rush things, he should've waited until St. Vigeous Day. But things might've turned out badly for Buffy if he'd waited... in hindsight, he was glad he'd been impatient to tangle with the Slayer.

Spike had a fantasy (once or twice) that that first fight between him and Buffy had turned erotic. Their passion grew by leaps and bounds as their fight intensified, and they'd ended up ripping at each other's clothes and shagging right there in the school hallway, starting against the wall and then moving to the floor.

But he'd had Drusilla, and Buffy had had Angel... neither of them had shagging each other on their minds that night.

Spike suddenly had the urge to go to the place he'd first glimpsed Buffy, the Bronze.





Spike kept to the shadows as he walked through the club, wanting to make sure Buffy wasn't there. He didn't want her to have to see him after what he'd done, or worse, have her think he was back to stalking her.

When he was satisfied that Buffy wasn't here, he went to the bar for a beer. A perky, pretty bartender named Bridget (whom he'd often flirted with previously) was quick to approach him.

"Hello there, Blue Eyes," Bridget said, smiling and batting her eyes. "What's your pleasure?"

"Beer -- preferably something that's not American swill."

Bridget was a bit disappointed. He didn't call her luv or pet, or flirt in any way. She always looked forward to seeing him at the bar.

"How about a Hiney?" she asked suggestively, holding up a bottle of Heineken beer. Bridget thought she'd get a smirk or sexually suggestive remark out of him, but Spike merely nodded and took the bottle from her. Spike placed the money on the bar, and then walked away.

Bridget sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. The British hottie seemed preoccupied and unhappy about something. She thought to herself, 'One of these days... I am soooo gonna hit that.' Who knows, maybe tonight would be her lucky night if Mr. Gorgeous stuck around the club until after her shift was over...

Spike meandered through the club sipping his beer. He was oblivious to the dancers and other patrons, all he saw was the ghostly image of that beautiful, naive, powerful girl dancing with her friends years ago.

He recalled what had been going through his mind that first time...

Spike circled the dance floor, sizing her up and wondering what kind of dance he'd have with this one. He felt a pull toward her... not just a prey/predator pull. He wanted her. But any sexual thoughts were quickly dismissed -- he had his Drusilla, and he wouldn't dream of cheating on his beloved. But still... the cute, blonde Slayer made him quiver; there was something extra special about this one, he could tell from just one look.

His attraction to her disturbed Spike. It was supposed to be business as usual -- find the new Slayer, dance the dance, kill her, and put another notch on his belt. Well, he reasoned, sex and violence did often go hand-in-hand. He was bound to want to shag a Slayer eventually.

It was just a momentary lapse, that's all. His excitement at finding his prey was also manifesting itself as a sexual allure.

Spike said to himself, "I'll just 'ave to finish this one off quick... not let this sick desire have a chance to grow into... somethin' even sicker..."

But it hadn't worked out that way. Buffy was the most resourceful, strong, fierce Slayer he'd ever come across. The more he saw her in action, the more encounters they had, the more attracted he'd become. He'd been in love with her before he left town with Dru, he just hadn't realized it. Loving her just seemed so wrong that he couldn't admit it to himself before that first Buffy dream he'd had, which brought the horrible truth crashing down on him.

Spike disposed of his empty beer bottle, then went out the side exit.

The alley was the place they'd first met and exchanged words. Spike had seen firsthand how different she was than other Slayers when she fought and dusted a minion. She was quick and light on her feet, creative, and she had friends backing her up. Those annoying groupies of hers had gotten under Spike's skin plenty of times... but they were a big reason Buffy was still alive and kicking. They had Spike's gratitude for that.

Spike smoked a few cigarettes as he watched images of himself and Buffy from that long ago night.

'Nice work, luv.'

'Who are you?'

'You'll find out on Saturday.'

'What happens on Saturday?'

'I kill you.'

Spike sighed and shook his head. "It's a bloody wonder she ever let me touch her..." That Buffy did allow him to be close to her, talk to him like a person... and treat him like a man, was another thing that showed how special she was. She had a big heart and a huge capacity for forgiveness... but what he'd done the previous night, forcing himself on her... it was beyond even her capacity to forgive, of that he was certain.

Spike flicked his cigarette away dejectedly, and walked quickly out of the alley with his duster billowing out behind him.





Spike wandered around town for hours, pausing at places he remembered being with Buffy. He didn't bother going to the Magic Box, her friends might be on the warpath and ready to stake him. He also had a mission to accomplish -- to find Glory's lair. He went to the park, the area which he suspected the Hell Bitch lived, and prowled around for awhile. He hoped to see one of her minions and follow it to its master, but he didn't see any suspicious activity. Maybe he'd have better luck in the daytime, if he could manage not to burst into flame.

Spike had to stop and rub his weary eyes. He felt exhausted, it'd be best if he tried getting some rest. In his state, he might miss a clue. He didn't want to go back to the crypt to sleep, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep in his bed after what happened there. He could find another safe place, maybe under someone's porch or a cave, to rest for awhile.

Spike didn't intend on going past Buffy's house, but he found himself walking down her street. He cautiously approached the house, making sure no one was outside or looking out a window. The light coming from the windows was dim, the Summers clan had most likely turned in for the night, seeing as how it was almost 1am.

It was raining again, unusual for Sunnydale, but Spike didn't mind getting a little wet. He stood in the rain under the oak tree and thought about all the times he’d kept vigil there waiting and watching... longing for her. And now he’ll never have her, never feel her touch again, never know her love... Bitter tears mingled with the rain running down his face. He'd been so close to having everything he dreamed of...

Spike didn't know how long he stood there in the rain, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He had to cup his hand around the last cigarette to keep it from getting soggy as the rain was coming down harder now.

"Goodbye, pet," Spike said, looking up at her window. "Wish I could be the man you deserve. I thought I was strong enough, but..." He let his words trail off, shaking his head sadly, and dropped the cigarette to the ground. He sighed as he turned and walked away from Buffy's house, for what he was sure would be the last time.





Spike found a safe place in the sewers to take a nap for a few hours, not that he got much rest again. He went back to the crypt for a fresh pack of smokes. While he was there, he decided to change into a dry pair of black jeans and t-shirt before heading out again. He wasn't sure why he wanted to put on clean clothes... he was just going to get blown up, anyway. But he had the impulse to change, so he did... maybe he’d let that prissy fop William out of his cage for too long.

It was daylight now, so he couldn't get much accomplished.

Spike went back to stakeout the park he believed Glory lived near. But he saw no signs of her minions, and he found it difficult to question passersby while covered with a smoldering blanket. People tended to avoid strange men hiding under smoking blankets.

Even while he was trying to put the last piece of the puzzle together and find out where Glory dwelled, Spike couldn't stop thinking of Buffy and how he'd wronged her. He really didn't want to die, he didn't want to give up... he wanted to find a way to be the man she deserved. But what if by some miracle she was able to forgive him and he did the same thing again, or something worse?

"No... it's better this way," Spike muttered. "I won't take the risk of hurting her again... never again."





After the sun went down, at around eight o'clock, Spike made his way to Willy's bar. Maybe he could get some useful info about Glory while he had a few pints.

There was a good-sized crowd in the bar tonight, his chances of finding someone who knew something about Glory were looking better. Spike was taken back to when he'd come here looking for information on the vamp/vamps that killed the people on the train. That seemed so bloody long ago now...

Spike went to the jukebox to play a song -- something raucous and wild that would help get him in the mood to slay a god. He inserted the coins and pressed H8, then he started to turn toward the bar.

{{

Hear the song at the following YouTube Link:

Ace Of Spades - Motorhead

}}

Spike stopped and turned his head to look at the jukebox when 'Hopelessly Devoted To You' started playing instead of the song he'd selected.

A demon standing next to the jukebox gave Spike a look that said 'You like this song?'

"I did not play that," Spike stated before storming over to the bar. "Willy!"

"Hey, Spike. How ya doin'?" Willy asked as he moved to where Spike was standing at the bar.

"What the bloody hell is that? That," he pointed at the jukebox, "was s'posed to be 'Ace Of Spades' by Motorhead!" Spike complained.

"The juke's been... it's been actin' up lately," Willy explained nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"What's that bloody song even doin' on a jukebox in a bar?"

"The 'Grease' soundtrack is the best-selling of all-time!" Willy declared defensively. Willy was a big 'Grease' fan, he'd hidden a few songs from the movie in the jukebox so he could listen to them and sing along when he was cleaning up before closing for the night. Figures Spike would pick a song no one else ever picked and discover this particular song. Same thing happened when the Slayer was here earlier, only Willy hadn't had any complaints from the lunchtime crowd.

Spike shook his head and grumbled, "All that proves is there's a lotta bloody stupid people."

A green-skinned demon and his date got up from one of the booths and started to slow dance to the song.

"See?" Willy smirked with vindication. "Some people appreciate the classics."

Spike rolled his eyes and growled lightly as he sat down at the bar.

"I'll see if I can get your song to play next... sorry for the mix-up..." Willy cleared his throat. "So, how's the --"

"Stuff the small talk and get me a beer an' a shot of JD," Spike said gruffly. "And keep 'em comin'."

"The customer is always right." He hurried to get Spike his drinks. "Y'know," Willy said casually as he poured a shot for Spike, "the Slayer was in here earlier, asked if I'd seen you."

Spike blinked, surprised that Buffy wanted to see him about anything. "Did she... say what she wanted?"

"Nope. She looked real unhappy, though." Being in on just about all the juicy gossip around town, Willy knew that Spike and Buffy were dating. And, by the looks of it, Spike had fallen out of favor with the Slayer for one reason or another.

Spike sighed, thinking Buffy had recovered enough to want to kick his ass or dust him... he'd wondered how long it would take for her fear and sadness to turn into rage. Spike would go to Buffy and put himself at her mercy, letting her mete out whatever punishment she thought he deserved for what he'd done... but his death would serve a better purpose if he could kill Glory.

"You did something to piss Buffy off? Was just a matter of time. Women, huh?" Willy shook his head and chuckled. "Can't live with 'em, can't have straight sex without 'em. I'd have to say no if she wanted to be my girl -- you're one brave sonuvabitch. The Slayer's a cute broad, but she can be such a bit--"

In an instant, Spike went into game face and grabbed a startled Willy by the throat, squeezing just hard enough to make the human wonder if his windpipe was about to be crushed. The chip was buzzing, but Spike ignored the pain; the only evidence that he felt anything at all was the twitching of his left eye.

Spike said in a low, dangerous voice, "Watch what you say 'bout her, pillock. And as for her ever bein' 'your girl'? You 'ave a better chance of seein' God." Spike's lip curled into a sneer, telling Willy that he'd personally send him to see God if there were any more comments about Buffy. "Do... you... understand?" Spike asked slowly, flexing his fingers around the man's throat with each word.

Willy could only make a croaking sound, but tried nodding his head to show he got the message.

Spike released the frightened bartender and sat back down on the barstool, his normal, human face sliding back into place.

Willy backed up and massaged his throat, gasping for breath. "Geez, Spike! What's your problem, man?! Too much caffeine or somethin'? How can you still defend her like that when she's ashamed of sinkin' low enough to be with you? I wouldn't let some chick treat me like that." From the look Spike gave him, Willy feared he'd gone too far and should've kept his mouth shut for once...

"Perhaps..." Spike growled, his eyes flashing gold, "you didn't get my message. Should I repeat it?"

"H-how about another drink, huh?" Willy asked fearfully, getting a bottle and setting it down in front of Spike. "Somethin' to s-soothe your nerves. Keep the bottle, it's on the house!" Willy could use something to settle his nerves now too. He really needed to look into hiring some security guards to protect him from unhappy, violent customers. The fact that the chip in Spike's head didn't stop him from strangling Willy, made the bartender even more nervous. A chipless Spike was cause for concern...

Spike tried to bury the emotional pain he felt from what Willy just said -- Buffy was ashamed of him. She must've said something along those lines to Willy. She'd kissed him in front of her friends once to prove she wasn't ashamed... but, of course, now she felt differently. She’d made a horrible mistake trusting him and now she was ashamed of ever letting a monster like Spike near her... and Spike couldn’t blame her.

"You gotta stick to your own kind, Spike," Willy continued. "Find a great-lookin' vampire girl who'll treat you right. A girl who knows her place, if you know what I'm sayin'."

"I've sunk pretty bloody low, but not low enough to take dating advice from the likes of you. And that had better be the last thing besides 'Want another drink?' that you say to me for the rest of the night."

Willy shrugged and held up his hands, backing up a step. "Alright, alright... just tryin' to help! Don't go postal again."

Spike downed a shot of whiskey when he realized he was listening to the song and thinking of Buffy. He mumbled, "I know I've hit rock bottom... I'm noddin' along to an Olivia Newton bloody John song..."

Clem sidled up next to Spike. "Hey, Spike. I couldn't help but hear you bellowing from across the room. I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be hanging out with your girlfriend again," Clem teased.

Spike sidestepped the question and posed one of his own. "What're you doin' here, Clem? Thought you were too busy bein' a captain of industry to go slumming at Willy's." He poured himself another shot.

"I'm taking a couple of days off. The money's great, but being the boss kind of sucks. I don't have any free time anymore. I need my downtime and weekly poker games. There's one here in the backroom tonight that I'm gonna get in on. I'll have to delegate my authority more if I ever want to have fun ever again."

Clem noticed the new ring on Spike's finger. "Nice ring... but I don't think it's supposed to be embedded in your flesh like that. How'd that happen?"

Spike shrugged. "I punched some things, forgot I had the ring on."

"Doesn't it... hurt?" Clem asked.

Spike shrugged again. "Pain's good -- pain reminds you you're alive... or undead."

Clem rolled his red eyes. "Geez, Spike, melodramatic much? Why so broody, mon frère?"

"I'm not broody..." Spike groused.

"You're even more surly than usual," Clem observed. "And, don't take this personally, but you look like crap."

Spike sneered at him. "Thanks ever so. We can't all be as beautiful as you."

"Don't tell me you and Buffy had another 'misunderstanding'?"

"There's no misunderstandings... it's over." Spike downed a shot of whiskey, and then refilled the glass.

"It's over? You guys are really splitsville?"

"Mmhmm." Spike nodded, looking down at the whiskey in his glass.

"What happened?"

"I'm not talkin' about it. Our relationship's dead and I killed it... she hates me, and rightly so. I've got no one to blame but m'self. It'd be great if I could find someone else to pin the blame on... but it was me."

"You... aren't gonna try to get her back?"

"No.... not this time."

Clem knew how important Buffy was to Spike, he thought it was a real shame they couldn't work things out. "So... what're you gonna do?"

"I've got a plan... I've got the explosives, all that's left is for me to suss out where the Hell Bitch hangs her hat..."

"Huh?" Clem asked, scratching his wrinkly forehead. "What're you talking about? You know where the Slayer lives..." Had things deteriorated that badly that Spike wanted to blow up Buffy's house?

Spike rolled his eyes and snorted sarcastically. "Not Buffy, you nimrod! Glory!

"I need to find out where the Hell God lives... I'm gonna kill her so Buffy doesn't have to. But a bomb won't do me much good if I don't know where to set the bloody thing," Spike explained testily. "You heard any rumors 'bout where she lives? I figure it's somewhere near that wooded area in the park past the bike path -- that's where Buffy chased that snake demon Glory conjured. It had to be headin' back to its master... I've staked out the area myself, but couldn't find any bloody evidence -- I'm sure she's somewhere in that area. So, have you heard where she lives or not?"

"Hold on there, buddy!" Clem held up a clawed hand. "Do you know what you're saying? Have you thought this through?"

Spike nodded curtly. "I have."

"So you're just gonna set a bomb and run for cover?"

"No, I'm gonna set it and then go in to make sure Glory can't leave before it goes off. I reckon I can keep her busy for a few minutes."

"And then the bomb goes *boom* and takes you out along with Glory... You're planning on taking on a freakin' god by yourself? And you don't care that you'll be blown to smithereens too? Have you gone completely loco?"

"Not loco, just... thinkin' big."

"And what if you succeed in killing only yourself?"

Spike shrugged. "At least I would've tried. I need to do something for Buffy... not to get her back 'cos that's not possible... but something to show her I truly loved her... something that shows her everything I said wasn't a lie. Maybe she'll be... proud of me one day."

"You've got the 'My girlfriend broke up with me and I don't wanna live without her' blues... We've all been there."

Spike's face screwed up in annoyance. "Don't make it sound so... It wasn't just some ordinary love affair. She was my bloody destiny. I could've had something that would make my life worth living; being with her would've made me something other than a total bloody waste of skin. I could've had everything I've only dreamed of... and now it's gone 'cos of my own..." Spike stopped and shook his head. Instead of continuing the thought, he downed another shot.

"I guess I can't count on you to work for me on Monday... since you'll be in a million pieces an' all?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you won't 'ave trouble findin' someone else."

"So... you're getting drunk because being drunk will help you win an impossible to win fight with a god? Smart plan," Clem said, nodding sarcastically.

"I'm not drunk. I'm drinking, but only so I... I'm just havin' a few for the road. Somethin' wrong with that?"

"Hey, I got an idea! Instead of doing that crazy thing you want to do, why don't you come over to my place and watch a 'Jeffersons' marathon tonight? Hopefully they'll show more episodes with the original Lionel, he was my favorite. We'll make a night of it! I've got Bugles, Cheetohs, beer, whiskey, and we can pick up some blood for you on the way."

"No thanks, mate. I've got more important things to do than watch the telly all night. You know, lairs to find, bombs to set."

Clem tried to think of something, anything, that would talk Spike out of this. "But... what if your bomb kills innocent people or starts a fire that burns down half the town? Buffy wouldn't like that."

Spike tensed and swallowed. "I'll... I'll be as accurate as I can be."

"Okay... then what if you do end up killing only yourself and Glory is so pissed off about you trying to kill her that she decides to kill all of Buffy's family and friends to prevent another one from doing what you did? Or she'll think that Buffy put you up to it and go after her directly. If Buffy's not ready to fight a god yet, then she'll get creamed. Would you want that? Or the bomb will turn out to be a dud and won't go off when you planned -- again, you'll only get yourself killed and leave Buffy with one royally ticked off Hell God."

Spike frowned, trying to dismiss that scenario. "I'll... That's not... She wouldn't..." But the longer he thought about it, the more he believed Clem might be right. If he failed to kill Glory, he might get Buffy and her family killed. If he forced Glory to act before Buffy was anywhere near ready for the final battle...

Spike shook his head. "Stop tryin' to talk me out of it! I got a plan and I'm stickin' to it." He looked at the clock on the wall. "I've got some work to do."

Spike started to stand up, Clem put a hand on Spike's arm. Spike looked at the hand, then up at Clem, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"I can't let you do this, Spike. It's crazy!"

"Remove your hand or I'll remove it... at the shoulder."

Clem slowly dropped his hand from Spike's arm. "You know this is stupid, don't you? I'm just trying to talk some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"Don't try following me or interfering with my mission, Clem. I don't want to have to kick your flabby ass. Just... stay outta my bloody way, alright?"

Spike started to walk away, but turned back. "By the way, you can have the DeSoto if you want 'er. She still needs some work, though. It's at the garage, the keys are in the ignition. And I know you got your own place, but the crypt is all yours if you want it, too."

"You're really gonna go through with this, aren't you?" Clem asked sadly.

"Yeah, I am. I aim to go out with a bang, not a whimper."

"I never thought you'd take the cowardly way out..." Clem said with a shake of his head.

Spike glared at him and let out a low growl. "I'm not a coward. How is me takin' out Glory by myself to spare Buffy and her family any pain, in any way cowardly?"

"Yeah, that's a noble reason. But that ain't the only reason and you know it. You're also doing it because it'd be easier to die than go on living day after day with her hating you."

"You psychic now too?" Spike asked with a derisive laugh, trying not to let on that Clem was at least half right. "Don't try figurin' me out, mate."

Spike took a breath and clapped a hand on Clem's shoulder. "It was good knowin' you, Clement. You were always a good friend... thanks." With that, Spike turned and walked out of the bar.

Clem sighed and shook his head as he watched Spike go out the door. His friend was about to get himself killed and there wasn't a damn thing Clem could do to stop him. If only Buffy hadn't broken up with Spike... she was probably the only one who could talk him out of this. But calling Buffy wasn't an option -- according to Spike, Buffy didn't give a damn about him anymore.

The only hope Clem had left was that Spike would rethink the crazy plan and change his mind before it was too late.





Spike went back to the crypt to start moving the dynamite to the park; he figured it'd be smart to have it close at hand for when he finally did find Glory's lair. He tried to ignore the things Clem said, what could (and probably would) go wrong with his plan, but his albino friend's words kept bouncing around in his head.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, "Bugger..."

He couldn't go through with it. He'd wanted to do something for Buffy that would really mean something and would lighten her burden. But... blowing up Glory's lair with him in it wasn't a good plan. Clem was right -- it was a bloody stupid plan. Spike didn't want Buffy to pay for his attempt to get rid of Glory, which she might if any of the hypothetical scenarios Clem put forward came to pass.

"She's suffered enough 'cos of me..." Spike mumbled. "Why don't I ever think of possible consequences? I just jump right the fuck in with both feet and then wonder why everything went wrong. Now I'm back at square bloody one... what am I s'posed to do now?"

A voice in his head (possibly William) said, 'Go talk to Buffy. Ask her what she'd like you to do.'

Spike snorted miserably. "She'll just tell me to go stake m'self... or possibly do it for me."

The voice persisted, 'Then you'll know for certain how she feels and not just be guessing. Talk to Buffy.'

Spike sighed and hung his head. He didn't want to bother or upset her again... but he had to see her one more time. He had to ask her what he could possibly do to make things right with her again... and barring that, if there were any way they could at least be... friends. He needed to ask her if going questing for his soul would be enough for her to let him back in. And above all else, he needed to tell her how sorry he was for hurting her.

Spike freshened up, wanting to look his best for Buffy, even if she didn't care how he looked. His hands shook with nervousness as he set off on foot to Revello Drive. He had no idea what sort of reception he'd get, not just from Buffy but from her mum and Dawn too. If she told them he'd forced himself on her, they might want to dust him too. Maybe going to the back door might be best instead of knocking on the front door.

Spike cut through yards until he was in the yard of the house behind Buffy's. He remembered the last time he'd gone this way, when he'd gone to Buffy's house intending to shoot her (after her 'You're beneath me' comment). But within seconds of seeing Buffy in tears, he'd abandoned that plan. Seeing her cry simply tore his heart out. He'd ended up sitting next to her on the steps and comforting her, quite a switch from what he'd gone there to do. And Buffy never asked why he'd had a shotgun with him... he didn't know if she'd known what he'd wanted to do or not.

As he neared the hedges that led into the Summers' backyard, Spike felt Buffy's presence. He sniffed the air, knowing without a doubt that she was outside and close by -- that was lucky, at least he wouldn't have to face her family too. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of Buffy crying. He stopped and closed his eyes, pained that she was probably crying because of him and his inability to control himself. Spike fought shedding tears of his own, the sounds of Buffy weeping were too much for him to bear. 'I don't want to hurt her anymore... I should just go and never darken her doorway again.'

Spike turned around and started to leave, but stopped after only a few steps. He thought, 'No, I have to do this... I have to speak to her, see her, one more time... to tell her how sorry I am. Buffy deserves to hear it face-to-face. I'm not a bloody coward, I can face the music. She deserves the chance to scream at me, hit me, kill me... or forgive me.'





Spike walked into the backyard. "Buffy," he called softly, so as not to alarm her.

Her head whipped up at the sound of his voice. They stared at each other for several moments. Tears continued to flow from Buffy's eyes; she wasn't sure if he was really here or not. Was this just her imagination running wild, letting her see what she wanted so desperately to see?

Spike held his hands up and kept his distance from her, trying to put her at ease and not have her worry that he might try and touch her. "I'm not gonna do anything. I'll stay right here; I won't come near you. Just listen, alright?"

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, then just nodded. She still wasn't sure if this was the real Spike or her imagination.

Spike took a breath, then began. "I'm so bloody sorry... You have to believe me, I didn't realize... I thought you were ready, I didn't mean to push myself on you or make you think you had to do anything. I would never consciously hurt you like that... I didn't know my demon was that strong.

"I know I said I wouldn't bother you again, but... damn it, woman, I love you too bloody much to just give up on us and walk away! I know the two of us can have something extraordinary if we can just..." He swallowed nervously, then said softly, "I didn't mean to shout... don't want to spook ya again. I'm... so sorry about what happened, Buffy. I never wanted to hurt you, especially not like that..."

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Spike held up a hand, silently asking her to wait before she said anything. She sighed and rolled her watery eyes, thinking, 'This *has* to be the real Spike. If he was just a figment of my imagination, I'd be able to get a word in edgewise...'

Spike sniffed and squared his shoulders, his eyes shiny with tears too. "I'll do whatever you want to make things right with us again, I'm not too proud to beg... not when it comes to you. I'll stay away for days if you need space, be limited to handholding and pecks on the cheek -- whatever you need. I'll wait for a month, a year... five bloody years, however long it takes. I'll find a way to get better control over my demon so I won't hurt you again.

"But... if what I've done is too... if it was too much for you to forgive and you say you want me gone from Sunnyhell... I'll go and you'll never see me again. I thought about leaving, but I promised you I'd always be here for you... I didn't want to break another promise. I'll respect your decision if you want me to go... I won't stalk or harass you, but I will never stop loving you.

"What do you think?" Spike asked anxiously then gulped, telling himself to be strong if she told him to get the hell out of her life. He would honor whatever request she made of him, no matter how painful it would be for him. "It's completely up to you, Buffy... Is there still... still a chance for us?"

Buffy stood up and started walking toward him, moving faster with each step.

Spike didn't know her intentions -- was she going to beat the shit out of him? Stake him? Spike considered making a run for it... but he deserved whatever she meted out, didn't he? He'd take his lumps if it might help Buffy be able to forgive him again. If she thought him beyond redemption, then staking would be a welcome end to his misery.

But Buffy didn't punch or kick or stake him. She jumped on him, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, hugging him tight with her limbs. Spike was completely unprepared for this kind of reaction. He hadn't expected her to jump on him in a good way. As a result, he lost his balance and stumbled backwards, falling onto the ground on his back, bringing Buffy down on top of him. Buffy didn't miss a beat though, she took his face in her hands and kissed him frantically.

Spike was stunned and confused, but it was so easy to lose all train of thought when Buffy was kissing him. He brought his arms up around her, closed his eyes and let himself get lost in her embrace. The pain and anguish he'd been in for the last two days melted away. With Buffy's lips raining kisses down on him, and her beautiful, powerful body wrapped around him, how could he feel anything except happiness? Up until a few minutes ago, Spike thought he'd never be able to kiss or touch her again -- he would think he was dreaming right now if it weren't for the slight discomfort from a small rock digging into his back.

They broke for air and rested their foreheads together, still holding each other and breathing hard.

"That was the best answer to any question I've ever asked," Spike panted. "...And not the kind of response I expected after how... things ended last time we were together."

Suddenly, her anger about his non-communication over the last few days boiled over. Buffy sat up and cocked her fist back as if to punch him in the face.

Spike winced, waiting for the blow, but he didn't try to get away.

Buffy caught herself at the last moment and punched him on the chest (not nearly as hard as she could have).

"Ow!" Spike put his hand over the spot she'd hit.

Then Buffy whimpered and dropped back down to kiss him frantically again.

When she had to stop to get air into her lungs, Spike looked at her warily with an arched eyebrow. "Havin' some... mood swings, are we, luv?"

Buffy rose up to look at him, her hands shaking slightly as she caressed his sharp cheekbones and her eyes roamed over his face. "I should knock you on your ass, you know that?"

"You already did sorta knock me on my ass... Not complain' though." He wouldn't dream of complaining about Buffy straddling him and snogging his face off.

"Sorry..." she said sheepishly. "Hitting is a knee-jerk reaction for me... especially when I'm an emotional wreck. I was going nuts for almost two days worrying about you!" Spike flinched, thinking a punch to the face was coming this time. But Buffy calmed down and only gently touched his cheek. "I'll try not to be so punchy in the future. But did you notice how I stayed away from your face and crotch?"

"Yes, I did notice... and I'm grateful for that. Thanks, pet."

Buffy jumped up to her feet and planted her hands on her hips, the unhappy crease between her eyebrows was prominent. "Where the hell have you been?! I was so worried about you -- I didn't know if something happened to you or if you left town. I called you a hundred times, I searched all the places I know you hang out, but I couldn't find you..." Buffy's devastating pout made its first appearance of the night.

Spike went up on his elbows, looking up at her. "You... You're not mad about what I did? You're not angry about how I... pressured you and made you --"

"You didn't pressure me or make me do anything I didn't want to do. I'm the one who's sorry, I hurt you by..." She paused, confused. Even though she'd rambled on a bit (or more than a bit), she thought she'd made everything pretty clear in the messages she'd left for him. "Wait... didn't you listen to the messages?"

"Messages?" Spike asked, raising both eyebrows. "What messages?"

Buffy groaned loudly and rolled her eyes skyward. "God... I don't believe it... you didn't play your messages? I left a ton of messages on your voice mail -- I filled up the damn thing! You called me after I left the crypt, but you didn't check to see if I called back?"

"I... I didn't expect you'd return my call," Spike said sadly, looking away from her with a devastating pout of his own as he got to his feet. "I thought you hated me and never wanted to see or speak to me again... So... I didn't think there was any reason to check to see if you called me back. I just wanted to call you and say how sorry I was about what I did... what I thought I did." Spike was having trouble processing the information that he hadn't hurt or traumatized Buffy; he'd spent almost two tortuous days convinced he'd hurt her.

Buffy knew the power of the pout at that moment. She wanted to just gather him in her arms and cuddle him. "You turned your phone off?" He nodded. "Do you have it with you?"

Spike patted down his pockets. "I don't think..." He stopped when he felt the phone in his pocket, then took it out. "Oh... here it is. Thought I'd left it back at the crypt..." He looked up at her from the phone.

Buffy crossed her arms to keep from hitting him again. Part of her still wanted to cuddle him, but the urge to punch him again was getting stronger. She'd been pulling her hair out, at her wit's end, thinking he didn't want to speak to her, and all that time he'd just had his phone turned off. "Do me a favor? Listen to a few of them."

"Right now?"

"Yes, now."

"Um... alright." Spike listened to one message after another, closing his eyes and sighing, wincing, and occasionally glancing guiltily at Buffy. He didn't listen to all of them, hearing her voice sounding so distraught was hard for him to take, but he got the gist of her messages (he didn't get to the last one, the one when Buffy said 'I love you'). "Well... hearing those would've made the last twenty-four hours a lot less miserable for me. Let that be a lesson to me..." he said as he put his phone away, "...always check my bloody messages."

Buffy refolded her arms over her chest, giving him a reproachful squint. "And what was that shit about you blowing Glory up? I was scared to death you were going to do it."

"Oh... that," Spike said then coughed, ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck. "You... talked to Clem?"

"Yes. And he filled me in on your crazy plan to kill Glory and yourself. Clem's out looking around the park for you right now. We'd better call him and tell him you're okay."

"Bugger... I wasn't too kind to ol' Clement, but he still wanted to save my ass..." Spike shook his head, smiling wanly. "He really is a good bloke. I'm sorry for worrying you... But you've gotta understand, luv... I've been in a real bad place the last couple days."

"I haven't been too happy either," Buffy moped, still feeling remnants of the stress she'd been under while Spike was missing. She was feeling much better now that she was finally talking to the frustrating vamp and it appeared that they, once again, had only misjudged each other's actions and states of mind; but her muscles were sore from days worth of tension.

"I've been cursing myself and my demon for hurting you, betraying you... I despised m'self for... for what I thought I'd done to you. I was preparing for the end, I didn't think I deserved to go on livin'..." Spike looked down and took a deep breath. "But I wanted my death to... to mean something... to do some good."

Buffy sighed, unfolded her arms and wrapped them around Spike's neck, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. She pulled back to look into his eyes. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you since the other night."

"Yeah?" Spike didn't know if it was good or bad yet. Hopefully she wasn't about to tell him she was pregnant with Finn's lovechild...

Buffy smiled timidly, nervous about saying it to him for the first time. "I-I love you."

Spike blinked and tilted his head to the left like a dog hearing a funny sound it couldn't identify; he'd thought Buffy would only say those words to him in a dream. "You... love me?"

She nodded. "I had a long talk with Tara and she helped me realize that I'm in love with you. She tricked my subconscious into finally admitting it by getting me to rant about what an ass Xander was at the Magic Box -- she's good. And worrying about you since the last time I saw you made me even more certain how I feel about you."

Her words sunk in and Spike broke into a brilliant, amazed smile (that cute, boyish grin Buffy liked so much). "Say it again," he requested, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "With my name tagged on to the end."

Buffy laughed and smiled brightly. This is the reaction she'd hoped for, not at all the cruel way Dream Spike reacted to her declaration of love. "I love you, Spike. I really, really love you."

Spike pulled her tightly against his body and crushed his lips to hers. Buffy moved a hand up to the back of his head, holding him to her and running her fingers through his soft, platinum hair while they kissed long, deep, and passionately. Buffy was breathless when they stopped for air.

Spike pulled her into a hug, holding her loosely. His eyes were moist with happy tears, his voice cracked with emotion, "God, I love you so bloody much, pet. You don't know how happy you just made me, Buffy."

"Good." She smiled and put her cheek against his. "I only want to make you happy -- and smile like that -- from now on."

Spike pulled back, smiling that smile at her. With his hands on her waist, Spike lifted her up and spun her in a circle three times. Buffy giggled as her feet left the ground and he twirled her around. Spike let her slide slowly down his body, then kissed her again. It was the most joyful, passionate, and possessive kiss she'd ever received; he was almost biting her in his zeal, but she didn't mind -- in fact, she was sorta biting him too.

His tongue swept over and past her lips, diving into her mouth. Their tongues danced and swirled and their lips smashed together as the intensity of the kiss and their lust grew. Buffy's knees were getting weak, parts of her body were getting very tingly. She had to stop making out with him or she'd just throw him back on the ground and tear his clothes off.

She gently pulled back and pushed at his chest. "Oxygen is becoming an issue," she said, grinning and panting for air.

Spike was also grinning from ear-to-ear and pulling in deep breaths. "I... I never thought you could ever actually love me," he confessed, sounding as astonished as he felt.

"Well, I do." She giggled at the way he looked at her expectantly with a silly grin and his eyebrows raised, waiting for her to say it again. "I am in love with you, Spike. I think I've been in love with you since our first date. Sorry it took me so long to figure it out..." She dropped her eyes from his, feeling guilty.

Spike shook his head and placed little, soft kisses around her mouth. "Don't be sorry, pet. You love me and that's... that's a bloody miracle far as I'm concerned. Doesn't matter how long it took."

Buffy smiled and wiggled out of his embrace. "I think you should call Clem now to let him know everything's alright."

Spike nodded and took his phone out again. He quickly dialed Clem's number, and was relieved when it was answered right away. He didn't want to leave a plethora of messages like poor Buffy had had to leave for him.

"Spike, you crazy bloodsucker, where are you?" Clem asked, sounding very perturbed.

"Uh, hey mate. I'm at Buffy's house. After thinkin' about what you said... I realized you were right -- it was a stupid plan. I took one more shot at talking to Buffy and..." he glanced at her with a smile, "it seems like we'll be able to work it out."

Clem let out a loud, relieved breath. "You came back to your senses -- wow, miracles can happen! I'm happy for ya, but, not only did I pass up a winning streak at the poker game, I missed several episodes of 'The Jeffersons' marathon. You'd better appreciate me looking around for your shiny butt out here in the dark."

"I do appreciate it, mate. I 'preciate everything you've done for me," Spike said sincerely. "I'll make it up to you, alright?"

"You'd better! It's spooky out here!" Clem's red eyes darted around the darkened park.

"Clem, you're a bloody demon, you're what people are afraid that they'll run into in the dark. What're you scared of?"

"A raccoon jumped out of a trashcan and hissed at me! Almost gave me heart attacks!"

"You're afraid of Rocky Raccoon? They're more afraid of you than you are of them."

"Wanna bet? Sure, they're more likely to run away than attack... normally -- but raccoons are notorious for having the rabies! They're all messed up in the head and will attack anything that moves!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Diseases like that can't be transmitted to demons, you nit. You know that."

"Yeah, but... they just freak me out, okay? They've got those weird little hands..." Clem cringed.

"Well... thanks for takin' the time to look for me, Clem. Sorry 'bout... you know... at the bar."

"Yeah... it's cool, don't worry about it. But I was winning the poker game, damn it... You owe me a Siamese."

"You'll have it, no worries."

"Guess I can't take possession of your car and the crypt now?"

Spike snorted. "Sorry, I'll have to take back those offers. But you're welcome to 'em when I finally do bite the dust. I'll put you in my will."

"You're with Buffy right now, huh?"

"Yeah," Spike looked at her and smiled. "She's standin' right here next to me. We were havin' a talk, tryin' to sort things out."

"Then what the heck are you still talking to me for? Talk to her!"

"We wanted to call you first 'fore we got into a heavy discussion. Didn't want you wanderin' around the park all night... being attacked by raccoons and whatnot."

"Oh... well, that was considerate. Thanks. Now get back to talking to your lady, you guys have lots to talk about from the sounds of it. And watching a few episodes of Dr. Phil about relationships couldn't hurt you two, either. I'm getting out of here before the raccoons decide to gang up on me."

"Right. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Spike ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Clem got spooked by a raccoon, but he's alright."

Buffy laughed as she walked over to the porch steps. She sat down, taking a tissue from her pocket. She wiped her eyes and then blew her nose, hoping she wouldn't have any more reasons to cry in the near future.

"All better now, luv?" Spike asked, feeling guilty that she'd been crying because of him.

Buffy patted the space next to her. "Mmhmm, feelin' much better."

Spike strode over to the steps to her. Buffy had to smile at how confident and cocky his posture and walk were -- long strides, chin up, arms swinging at his sides, leather duster flapping behind him, and a cute smirk on his face. It was quite a contrast from the sad, nervous, timid man who'd come through the hedges a few minutes ago.

When he sat down with her, Buffy put an arm around his waist, and Spike draped an arm over her shoulders. They sat in silence, side-by-side, for a few moments, savoring being together and having hope for a future together again. They let some of the badness of the last couple days fade away, thoroughly relieved that most of their worrying and fears were for nothing. Though, it was frustrating, too, having been so depressed and distraught for almost two full days was torturous. But they tried just to relish the fact that all that unhappiness was over and done now. Buffy still had some issues to discuss (her feelings of sexual inadequacy, for one), but she felt confident those problems could be solved now too.

"Hard for me to sit still," Spike said with a chuckle, his left leg twitching with wanting to stand up and jump with joy. "I want to dance like Gene bloody Kelly, swing from lampposts and jump in rain puddles, shouting, 'Buffy Summers loves me!'"

Buffy laughed at picturing Spike doing those things. "Stay put for a few minutes, buster. I had the hardest damn time finding you. I'd hurry to one place, like the mansion, and you'd already be gone. You moved pretty fast around town."

He looked at her, cocking an eyebrow. "You tried tracking me using magick?"

"Yeah... I only resorted to that 'cause I was worried you were hurt -- the broken slab and furniture at the crypt, along with the bloody marks on the wall, made me think someone hurt you."

Spike looked down and sighed, feeling stupid for the assumptions he'd made and what he'd been doing (and thinking of doing) for the last twenty-four hours. "I was... frustrated when you left... and from the way you left... wrecked my head, it did."

"You were mad at me," Buffy said sadly, nodding. "I don't blame you."

He turned to look at her and held her hand. "No... no, pet, I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at me. Remember, I thought I'd... made you do things you didn't wanna do. I thought I'd ruined everything 'cos I couldn't control my demon... or sex drive... that I couldn't hear or ignored your pleas for me to stop... But I wasn't angry with you, not at all."

"Oh... okay." Buffy snuggled closer to his side. "I was pretty mad at me. I was so embarrassed... and I felt horrible that I'd hurt you like that."

"It's okay now, Buffy." Spike kissed the side of her head.

"Well, it's sorta okay. We still have things we need to talk about." Buffy looked at his hand and frowned. "What happened to the ring?" Then she answered her own question. "Oh... you were punching walls."

"Yeah... had some... issues to work out after you left. Once again, I want you to know it wasn't you I was brassed off at."

"Is your finger okay?" she asked, delicately running her finger along his injured one. There was still a dent in his finger from the ring, but it was healing.

"Yeah, it's fine. I felt like shit for marring the ring like this... the first present you gave me and I have to go and mash it."

"There will be other prezzies in your future, don't worry." Buffy kissed him on the cheek. "So...um, you want to talk about... stuff?" she asked anxiously.

Spike was reluctant to get into a serious discussion, but this is what they needed to do to make sure there weren't any misunderstandings left to bollix everything up again. "Okay... what do you want to talk about?"

"The horrible things that were going through my mind right before I... ran out on you. You were being wonderful, what you were doing to me felt wonderful. I wanted it to happen even though it wasn't my vision of the 'perfect' first time. But then...." Buffy looked down and sighed sadly. "Then all the bad shit that's happened to me in relationships came flooding back, blocking out the good stuff you and I were doing. And I remembered some... mean things you've said to me and I thought how I couldn't stand if you said things like that to me again after we..."

Spike looked down at the porch steps too. "I know I've been cruel to you... things I've said... Saying I'm sorry now and I'd take it back doesn't matter much once it's been said. Well... that's it, innit? There's not much we can do if you can't forgive me for my past... transgressions against you and others," Spike uttered miserably.

"I can forgive you, Spike. I have forgiven you. Things were different then; I said some pretty awful things to you over the years too -- that’s all in the past," she assured him. "It's just that at the time... all my big fears were racing around in my head and... I actually thought I might be possessed -- that's how bad the voices in my head were." Buffy sighed, trying to explain without sounding crazy. "I was afraid you'd treat me like shit... afterwards, like the others."

"I'm not them, Buffy. I'll never take you for granted, and I won't get jealous and needy when your family or Slayer duties have to come first. I will never abandon you, and every time I wake up I'll be thinking how bloody lucky I am that a woman like you wants to be with me." Spike heaved a sigh. "You'll trust me one day; I'll have to show you, over time, that you can trust me to not do you wrong like those other pillocks did."

"I do trust you. I believe in you, Spike, I really do." Buffy rubbed her forehead, frustrated that she wasn't explaining herself very well. "The bottom-line about the other night is... I got overwhelmed with fear and panic that things would go bad. I didn't realize it until I talked to Tara, but I was already in love with you, and if you rejected me after we... I'd be devastated."

After a short pause, she said, "There are a lot of Buffys inside me."

Spike raised an eyebrow, looking at her sideways as if trying to see where all these Buffys were hidden.

"I mean, there are lots of different parts of my personality that make up who I am. There's Regular Buffy who can deal with just about any situation. But there are others that chime in just to cause trouble. There's Insecure Buffy and Evil Twin Buffy and a bunch of others."

"Where was Cheeky Buffy when we needed her?" Spike smiled slightly. "I like her."

"I think the others bonked her over the head, dragged her off and tied her up. I really could've used her that night. But the other, meaner parts of me... I heard their voices loud and clear when we were in bed -- they told me I'd get hurt this time just like the other times. They reran traumatic scenes from my past over and over again. They told me I wasn't going to be good enough for you..." she admitted, looking down and blushing. "They were relentless... I couldn't make them shut up."

"You, not good enough for me? Rot! I'm the one who needs a pair of stilts to come up to your level." Spike didn't understand she meant she wouldn't be a good lover. "You're good, and strong, and pure, and brave... as well as bein' the most beautiful, sexiest girl I've ever set eyes on. I have lots of things to love and admire 'bout you... But can you really forgive me for being... a monster? I don't possess many redeeming qualities..."

Buffy was suddenly nervous to start talking about her sexual inadequacies, she let that topic go for now. "First of all, you're not a monster. A monster wouldn't have said the beautiful things you've said or given me the sweet surprises you've given me, just to make me happy. And a monster wouldn't give a crap about my, or my family's, happiness and safety."

Spike smiled shyly. He couldn't put into words how hearing her say those things to him made him feel. He only hoped he didn't start leaking tears again, he'd cried more than he cared to admit the last couple days. He was turning into a right ponce.

"And second, I wouldn't have been worrying myself sick about you and wanting to see you again if I didn't love and forgive you." Buffy squeezed his hand. "Forgiveness is in my nature -- I think most of the people I love or care about have tried to kill me at least once, although you may hold the record on that just now -- not sure."

They both snorted a little laugh.

Getting serious again, Buffy looked into his eyes and said, "You're worth the risk and leap of faith I'm taking. I saw how much you've changed that night at the mansion..." She shuddered slightly at remembering how Spike was when he was under Dru's spell -- so cold, so cruel, like in that nightmare she'd had.

As there was an Angel and an Angelus, there were also two Spikes. Only Spike's two halves (the human he had been and the demon) were more connected, he wouldn't change into a completely different person. Spike had several facets to his personality, but he wasn't two different people; he was just... complex. Buffy surmised that Spike wouldn't be much different than he was now if he had a soul. Spike had somehow evolved into a better man on his own, because of his love for her, not because a soul was forced upon him.

Buffy shook off her musings and smiled, running her hand lightly over his cheek. "I saw the 'old Spike' when Dru hypnotized you... you're not that person anymore. You've changed, and you did it all on your own."


Continued...





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