Genre: Drama

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: They’re not mine, I just wanted to play with them for a little while. No harm intended, only the greatest love and appreciation for the people who have created these fabulous characters and bring them onto my TV screen every week.

Summary: Spike gets his chip out and Faith gets out of jail to help in the fight with Glory.

Notes:  This story takes place after "The Body". "I Was Made to Love You" never happened, and just to be clear, in my story there is not even the remote possibility of a CyberBuffy.

And on to the story!

PART ONE

It was a typical evening in Sunnydale. Not many people out, a few vampires wandering about the cemetery. And the Slayer. Always the Slayer.

Spike stood and watched as Buffy dusted a vampire. One of his own kind, yet – somehow, these days, he felt so much more kinship with her. Her strength, her power, her beauty. Let's face it, Buffy Summers in Slayer mode was hot. The sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

He'd always thought so. Since the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, he'd wanted her. Even when he'd wanted her dead, he'd wanted her. In a way he'd never wanted any of his other victims – with an intensity that could only be described as bloodlust.

Sure, he'd killed before. Lots of times. For food. For fun. For the reputation that came with killing. However, this Slayer was different from the others. No one else had ever inspired in him what he felt for her. No one had inspired that incredible need. The need to kill. The need for blood. Not just any blood, but her blood. Her life. Her... body. Now, after years of fighting it, he had finally acknowledged the reason for it. He didn't really want her dead at all. He simply wanted her.

He loved her.

Admitting that to himself had been horrifying at first, but ultimately freeing. Admitting it to her had been humiliating, embarrassing, but also somewhat of a relief. Now she knew how he felt. Now he could pursue her openly, honestly, without all the games he'd been playing to try to get into her good graces.

As Spike watched her, he saw three more vampires approach her. He planned to just stand back and admire her work. But to his surprise, the fight soon turned against her. The Slayer wasn't in top form tonight. She could lose. She could die.

Spike jumped into the fight, taking out one of the vampires before it even had a chance to be surprised by his attack. With one less vamp to fight, the Slayer made quick work of those remaining. Soon it was just the two of them, alone.

**********

Buffy got up, dusting off her clothes. "What are you doing here, Spike" she spat, not even attempting to hide the loathing in her voice. Perhaps even forcing a little extra venom into the words.

"Saving your life, pet. What does it look like?"

"I don't need your help!"

He looked at her pointedly. "Looks to me like you needed it just a minute ago."

"Go. Away. Just go away and leave me alone." She stormed away, heading for home.

He could hear the anger and hatred in her voice. He could hear something else, too. Pain. As much as he hated feeling it, seeing her in pain hurt him. He followed after her. "Something's wrong, love. What is it?"

**********

It disquieted her. It always had. His apparent ability to look into her soul. The way he could see things she kept carefully hidden from her closest friends. That, and the way he could seem to go from completely obnoxious to concerned and compassionate in the space of a heartbeat.

And the look he got on his face in those moments. When the menacing visage he typically displayed slipped away and she was left looking at... the only way she could think of to describe it was the face of an angel. There was something morbidly ironic about that. Here he was, the one person in the world she considered evil personified, with a face that could easily adorn the painting of any Biblical angel.

Sometimes, in those moments, it was hard to convince herself that she didn't believe it. She had to remind herself that it wasn't real. This concerned act, his recent declarations of love… just more of his twisted mind games. A trick designed to get under her skin. She knew that the moment he got that chip out of his head, he'd come after her. If she let her guard down now, if she allowed herself to accept, at face value, the compassion he appeared to be offering, it would be her undoing. He'd slip inside her defenses and someday, when she wasn't expecting it, he'd kill her. Because that's what he was. A killer. Chip or no chip, she reminded herself, Spike was a killer.

But there were times when she almost allowed herself to forget; when she almost didn't care.

The last few days had been the worst of her life. Ever since she had found her mother's lifeless body, she felt like she was hanging on by the end of a thread. There was nobody else to whom she could really tell that. She always felt like she had to be the strong one, the brave one. She had to protect her friends from all the evils of the world. She had to protect Dawn from Glory. How could she expect any of them to rely on her if she let them see her crumble? In a way, Spike was the only one she could really talk to about how she felt.

So, although she was sure it was a very bad idea, she heard herself replying to his concerned inquiry. "My mother died."

**********

Spike was stunned. "Joyce? Joyce died? I thought she was getting better."

Buffy climbed up the steps to her back porch, Spike right behind her. "It was sudden. They say there was nothing they could have done, even if she'd been in the hospital when it happened."

He gingerly patted her on her back. "I'm so sorry, love. I liked your mum. She always treated me real good. She made me the cocoa with the little marshmallows in it."

As Spike spoke, Buffy looked at him again. At that face, that angelic face (hiding a demon's soul, she reminded herself).

"How are you holding up? How's the little nip doing?"

"Dawn is... freaking. She's staying with Xander and Anya tonight. I just... I couldn't deal with... patrolling and watching... Dawn... and…" the tears she'd been doing her best to hold in check for days suddenly came pouring out in an uncontrollable torrent.

**********

He'd seen her like this once, a couple of months earlier. He'd been hiding in her basement, watching her cry over the kitchen sink. That time he'd stayed hidden, realizing she needed to be alone. This time he reached out to her.

Buffy wasn't sure how it happened, but she found herself in Spike's arms, crying on his shoulder. She felt his cool lips brush across her temple once. Twice. Then more. She lifted her face and he pressed his lips to hers. She responded, wanting, needing some contact with another person. Just someone to hold on to. She could hear him groan and felt his arms tighten around her. It felt so good just to feel something besides pain. She wanted more. She pulled him toward the door.

She was surprised when he pulled away. "You know I can't come in, pet."

It took her less a second to realize "Oh. Right. Well, I inv--"

"No!" He put his hand over her mouth. "That's not what I meant. If I come in there now, we both know where this is leading. You don't want that. Not really. You'd hate yourself in the morning. And, if it's possible, you'd hate me even more than you already do."

Even as she heard herself say the words, she couldn't believe she was saying them. "No, Spike. I want you to come inside."

She could see him struggle for several seconds before he finally pulled away. "Someday, Summers. Someday. But not now. Not like this." He leaned and stole one last breathtaking kiss before he turned and walked away.

Buffy watched him go. Confused, hurt, lonely. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to invite him into her house in the first place. That had definitely been one of her worst ideas ever. She told herself that she was glad he'd walked away. But she couldn't deny feeling a hollowness inside of her, couldn't deny wondering what it would have been like…

**********

Spike was headed back toward his crypt. Every step was a struggle as he forced himself to continue forward. The desire to turn around, to go back, to take what the Slayer had been offering was almost overwhelming. But he'd meant what he'd said. He wanted her, but not like that. When he had her, he wanted her forever, not some thoughtless fling in a moment of pain and passion.

He was so lost in thought and feeling, he didn't notice the creatures surrounding him until he literally bumped into one of them. "Hey, mate, look where you're... going."

He looked up and realized that he was surrounded by about 10 of these hideously ugly creatures... scabby, crusty looking little things. One of the creatures spoke: "The magnificent Glorificus would like a word with you." Then he felt more than heard some of the creatures come up behind him. Suddenly everything went black.

**********

When he came to, he was in a lushly furnished apartment. The woman he remembered trying to fight with at the hospital was standing before him. "Well, it's about time you woke up!" She exclaimed. She sounded miffed, as if he was the one who had inconvenienced her.

He remembered that she was strong. Stronger than anyone he had ever fought before. So he was a little wary when he asked: "What do you want with me."

"I want my Key. I need it. Soon. The Slayer took it from me, and I want it back. I know you know her. I know you spend time with her. You must know where she put it. And you're going to tell me where I can find it!"

"Not bloody likely," He replied. "You don't know much about the Slayer if you think she'd tell *me* where your shiny, glow-y key thing is." It wasn't exactly a lie. Buffy hadn't told him that Dawn was the Key. Even though Dawn seemed to hate him now as much as the others did, he had no intention of betraying her to this bitch-god. He'd grown rather fond of the bite-sized kid.

"This just isn't fair! It's my Key! I need it!" Glory grabbed some shoes off the shelf and threw then across the room. After a moment she seemed to calm down. "Well, at least it's not a total loss. You still have something I need." As she said this, she approached him playfully, almost seductively. She ran her hands over his hair and Spike experienced the strangest sensation, it felt almost like she was sticking her hands right through his skull.

Glory looked at him oddly as she withdrew her hands. "Well, that was gross. I can't get anything from you. You're not even human, are you? And what the hell is this?" She asked, holding up a small, innocent looking piece of plastic and metal. "Why would you go around keeping something like this in your head? I could have broken a nail!"

Spike looked at it, stunned and bemused. All this time and suddenly, just like that, he was free of that bleeding chip. All he could do was stare at it. It was so small, so nondescript. How could this be the object that had turned his life upside-down?

"Ugh." Glory turned to her minions. "He's useless. Why would you bring me someone so completely useless? We're never going to get anything out of him. Just go... get rid of him." She stormed away while her minions grabbed Spike and dragged him away.

**********

Sometime later (he wasn't sure how long) Spike woke up face down in the sewers. His first thought upon awakening was that Buffy ought to know what had happened.

His second thought came to him a little more gradually. Buffy had given him the invitation he needed to enter her house. With the chip out of his head, he could kill the Slayer once and for all. He could slip into her bedroom and drain her blood as she slept in her bed. He forced himself to think about it for a moment, to consider the option, amazed and kind of amused when he realized how little appeal that scenario held.

He briefly considered telling Buffy that the chip was gone, but he figured that would just put him at risk of rapidly being turned into a pile of dust. He didn't much fancy that possibility. Perhaps it would be best if he just told her what Glory was up to. He could leave the rest for another day. Or not. Maybe he'd never tell her. As long as she thought he was harmless, he knew she wouldn't kill him. As long as he was alive, there was at least the slightest chance that he could win her over.

Yeah. He decided that was his best choice. Leave well enough alone. Buffy never needed to know about his Glory-sponsored chipectomy. In fact, she didn't need to know he'd even encountered Glory. It's not like the Slayer didn't already know that Glory was after the Key. No. It would be best if he just continued along as if nothing had changed.

Of course, everything had changed. That sodding chip was out of his head. For the first time in a long time, the future didn't look quite so grim. In fact, as Spike headed back to his crypt, for the first time in ages, he felt downright cheerful.