Buffy’s blood rushed in her ears and made her deaf. Not only that, but as she stood with her eyes riveted to the door, she was embarrassed for him. And angry with herself, because until he noticed his own lack of clothing, she hadn’t given it a thought.

There was a time when that would have been the first- maybe the * only * thing I’d notice about him. Hey, that’s progress, at least.

No, she hadn’t noticed it. But now, she couldn’t keep her mind off of the thought. Her mind was racing, as was her heart and her blood. It made her dizzy, and her skin flushed with heat so quickly that she thought she would faint.

She took a deep breath and held it, trying to slow her heart. I’ve actually turned my back on him. What if he…? No. No, he wouldn’t. He has a soul now. He can be good. He * is * good. Even before the soul, he was better than Angel ever was. He loved me then.

The way he touched me, like I was sunshine? That was so…Oh, God!

He loved me. And, that * thing * is killing him.

Does he love me now? Can he love me now, or will that thing kill that too? What if I really messed up? What if it’s already too late?

She shifted her weight and tried to keep her attention riveted on the door in front of her. She wanted to look behind her, because he seemed to be taking an awfully long time. Maybe he’s scared of me. Gee, she chided herself, I wonder why that could be? Just because you are the Slayer, and he happens to be a vampire, and right now he’s trapped in a small room with you? Or maybe it could be the fact that you used him as your own personal sex toy for a year? Maybe that has something to do with it? She cleared her throat, “Spike?” she hated the little quiver in her voice. It made her sound like a child that couldn’t wait to open gifts on Christmas morning. She was amazed Spike hadn’t noticed. Or if he had, at least he had the good sense not to call her on it.

“Give a bloke a minute. Please?” he tried to keep the apprehension and anger out of his tone, but that was difficult when all he could hear thrumming in his brain was the rapid beat of her heart as it rushed the blood through her.

She sounds like a frightened colt. She wants to run, and I don’t blame her. I’m a danger to her; now more than ever. Just having her close is enough to…oh, God.

I’ll never be able to fight this. It’s too strong.

He sighed as he pulled the grey fleece sweater down over his chest. The sweater matched the trousers Rupert had fetched for him to wear. Grey. How appropriate for the occasion. He tried to smile. The clothes were too loose for his liking, but they were better than having nothing at all.

Suddenly, a rage at the old Watcher began to build. Not only did that monster drug me, chain me, imprison me, and starve me, but he maimed me, beat me, *and * took away my soul’s last thread of dignity…? He took my clothes as well?

Spike bit back on the growl that wanted so badly to escape, and instead let out a shuddering breath as he smoothed out the soft fabric of the sweater. He felt a sadness come over him as he watched the muscles of her back. They were drawn tight and quivering with power, ready to fight. His legs felt weak as he made his way back to the bed and sat down. He hung his head and whispered, “I think it’s safe for you to turn around now.”

He listened carefully to the soft footfalls of her boots as they tapped on the wooden floor. He knew she was looking at him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the surprisingly intricate pattern woven into the cotton gauze around his wrists. The thought that someone had taken the time to minister to him in such a soft and delicate manner surprised him.

Who would have done this for him? Who would have taken the time? After all, when all was said and done, there was no reason to do it. A monster didn’t deserve any sort of kindness.

That’s what he was now; what he’d always been. He’d tried to be a sort of man, sought out the thing that she could trust, and it was all for nothing.

He’d tried to be a man, but he knew he’d never be one.

He knew he was a monster.

“Slayer,” he sighed, “I’ll ask you again. Why?”

Buffy’s chest suddenly hurt. He’d been through so much that he couldn’t look at her. She watched as he absentmindedly picked at the bandages around his wrists. He sounded so tired, “Why what, Spike?”

Spike raised his eyes to hers, and at that moment Buffy would have sworn that he was a thousand years old. She could actually see the light, the life he’d been so full of; the light she drew strength from when she couldn’t find a reason to still be in this world, draining out of him. It was painful to see.

His voice was ragged, and as jagged as glass, “Why not just stake me?” his words quivered as he spoke, “If the Watcher was so set against me being the Gandhi of the demon realms, why not just stake me; put me out of his misery- and mine?”

Buffy was stunned by his words. Then suddenly a memory flashed across her mind. She remembered her time in a Hell dimension, and her words to Lilly:

“…Well, you know, he was pissed off.”

And, knowing you, Spike, you will be too. I’m almost betting on it.

“…Why torture me with this?” his voice caught on the words, and Buffy was brought rocketing back to the present, “It’s killing me, Buffy.”

Buffy gasped; her eyes bored into his glistening azure gaze, “Don’t say that!” her throat was tightening and her she felt her chin begin to quiver with emotion. There was a time that, if Spike had brought any emotion out of her, she would have kicked him in the head and run, but not now. He needs to know. He needs to see that he matters; that he can’t give up, “Please don’t say that,” she whispered.

The longing in her voice was something he never thought he’d hear, not when it came to him. Never, in his most fevered dreams, would he have dared to hope to see the glint, which was so near to starlight, in her eyes. He swallowed hard, and drew a trembling breath.

It’s a trick of the light. She’s not…? She can’t be.

The soul that was still so new, yet so old, to him, knew, and ached for her. It made his battered limbs bear him up and carried him slowly to her.

God, she’s beautiful. I want this! He could feel the parasite gaining strength, trying to overwhelm him, but he would not let it. And I * will* have it! This is the one thing you won’t take, because, I won’t let you!

As Buffy watched him coming toward her, she could see that he was struggling with the thing inside of him. She could almost feel it. And its presence was as strong, if not stronger, than it was when she first entered the room.

She looked on in wonder, as an apocalyptic battle raged on. One she was powerless to stop.

Then, just as suddenly as it swelled, the Ukesolrill’s influence waned once again. She was again looking at what she knew to be “Spike.” When his head tilted quizzically, she nearly sobbed with relief. A sound, very close to laughter, escaped her.

It happened so quickly, that Spike barely managed to catch her, as she fell against him. One minute she was standing there, the next she was nearly prostrate with what he could only describe as grief, sobbing in his arms.

It was very unsettling to him. He never could stand to see her in pain, with or without the soul, and he did the only thing that he knew to do, to stop the tears. He kissed her, and as their lips met, he purged his soul of every filthy, vile thing he’d ever done, and he sobbed as well, as the weight of centuries began to ease.

The heat of her breath as she whispered to him fell upon his skin and warmed him, forcing him under, in a blissful mix of pain and hope. The words she spoke drifted to his ears, and took root in his heart, “…I swear, Spike” she murmured, “I swear… I’ll fight for you, when you can’t anymore. When it gets to be too much. If it gets too strong; if there’s no other way, and no one else to fight…I’ll fight for you, Spike. I swear to you,” she lifted her head, and pulled back a little, holding his face in her hands, she looked deep into his bright eyes and said, in a hushed voice, “I love you, Spike,” as his eyes widened in disbelief, she nodded slightly, and said again, “It’s true. I love you, Spike. Maybe I always have.”
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