God, what was wrong with him? Why in the name of all that’s unholy did he do that? Why the fuck would he save the Slayer’s life? Especially after it was his plan that was gonna end it. His hard work had finally paid off and the Slayer was gonna be dead and he would be free to return to Dru. Spike paced around the upper level of his crypt. But did he want her dead? No, he realised, he didn’t. In fact that was the last thing he wanted! But why? Why did he care that this girl, this slight, beautiful, amazing, vibrant slayer, live?
 
Shit, where did that come from? The Slayer, beautiful? Well, yeah, he conceded. Course she was, an’ he knew it… he had eyes didn’t he? First time he’d seen her she was dancing; wiggling that hot little body all over the place, getting him, and probably half the male population of The Bronze, hard. But he wasn’t supposed to think about the Slayer like that. He was a vampire. He KILLED slayers, that’s what he did. Not think about how that warm, petite body would feel against his. Not care if that fire, that incredible life and vibrancy was extinguished. It was his job to do the bloody extinguishing!

He threw himself down into his chair, his head tipped back as he drew a long steadying breath. He thought about all the times he had fought her, all the times he had failed to kill her, and he wondered if deep down inside had he NOT wanted to kill her. Is that why he had failed every time? He thought about what Dru had said to him that first night he’d fought the Slayer and lost; she’d told him he had left her for the Slayer. He had, of course, thought she was off her bloody tree; accusing him of not loving her, of giving his heart to the Slayer. He remembered, also, the gut wrenching terror when he had thought the silly bint was going to die. The concern he’d felt when he came back to her and saw her leaning exhausted against the tomb. He smiled in recollection of her courage as she’d tried to muster up the strength to fight him when she thought he was coming back to finish her off. He remembered the hurt that had flickered through him when he’d realised that she thought he was going to kill her. How he’d made every effort to let her know he wasn’t gonna harm her. How the thought of letting her go off home by herself when she was clearly so exhausted that she couldn’t have fought off a fledgling had terrified him. His anger when he realised she was shirking her training and that she had nearly paid for that neglect with her life.  Stupid little bint, it wasn’t fun learning how to sense vampires, well tough bloody shit! Idiot girl, maybe now she would understand that it was important? That paying attention to her training could save her stupid life.

Why was he feeling so protective of a human, a slayer? What was wrong with him? Closing his eyes, he figured the best thing he could do was get some sleep, time enough to worry about it later when he wasn’t so bloody tired. As his eyes drifted closed he saw her; her smile flashing, green eyes burning with fire. A golden vision shining in the moonlight; spinning, leaping, kicking and punching, each move flowed seamlessly into the next as she danced. God, she was beautiful when she fought. He’d loved watching her. Could’ve watched her all night, he mused. But then fighting at her side had been amazing too.
 
He drifted off to sleep, a tender smile playing across his face as he dreamt of running his hands through Buffy’s hair, of holding her against him, her body moulded to his. In his dream he stroked her face, feeling the fine silk of her skin beneath his fingers as they whispered delicately across her flesh. And when she told him that she loved him he kissed her softly, snuggling her closer against his body as he whispered his love to her.
 
He woke the next day with beautiful dreams of his slayer running through his mind. No longer fighting the truth, he admitted to himself that Dru had been right; his heart belonged to the Slayer.
 
*****
 
Buffy had slept the sleep of the truly exhausted. When she woke, bleary eyed and still not quite rested the next morning, her mind replayed the events of the previous night. Even now she was not fully able to process the fact that Spike had saved her life, and then he had walked her home afterwards! This was Spike, her number one mortal enemy, the very dangerous master vampire who had, over the last three months, made her death his mission. Not only did he save her, he had seemed genuinely concerned for her after the fight. What was that? None of it made any sense to her at all and if she allowed herself to dwell on it any longer she knew she was going to end up with the headache to end all headaches.
 
“Hey, Buff, what’s happening?” Xander rounded the corner near her locker, Willow following, clutching her books closely to her chest.

“Hap... Happening?” She looked hazy for a second. “Oh, nothing...”

“So you wanna hang at the Bronze tonight? Angel might be there!” Willow bubbled as Xander glared in her direction, his stock standard response to any mention of Buffy’s vampire honey.

“Huh, oh … I dunno guys, I just, ah…” Buffy’s eyes grew distant like she had forgotten they were there.

Her friends noticed she was withdrawn and when they queried her about it she told them absently  that she was just tired. She was tired, so not really with the avoidy there, right?

That afternoon when she joined her watcher in the library for training she asked him if there was any way they could work on her slayer sense thingy. Giles was very enthusiastic and assured her that they would start work on it that night; he would join her for patrol, which he said would be pleasant as he had not joined her in a patrol for a while now. Yeah, pleasant, Buffy thought… goody!
 
Practice though she may that night her ability to tap into her slayer sense showed no marked improvement. It was not until such time as the vampires were clearly in visual range that she was able to get even so much as a tingle. By the end of the night both Buffy and Giles’ patients was wearing very thin.
 
“This just isn’t working, Giles,’ Buffy complained to her watcher. “I just don’t get what I am doing wrong. You make it sound like it should be easy, like I should just be able to do it and I can’t and, and… I suck.”
 
“Now, now, Buffy.  Not all slayers have the same strengths and weaknesses. You have an amazing aptitude for weapons and the martial arts, where some slayers have had to work extremely hard in those areas. You obviously just need more practice in this particular area to enhance your innate ability.” Giles studied his charge; she certainly could be exhausting at times and was undeniably headstrong. However the girl held an enormous part of his heart, filling the void left by the family he never seemed to have found the time to have. “You really must learn not to be so hard on yourself, Buffy. You have shown some improvement tonight, be it minor, and any improvement at all is to be applauded. I am certain that given time, and continued dedication, you will master this skill as you have so many others. Why don’t we retire for the night and resume tomorrow night?”
 
“I guess. It’s just that it’s so frustrating. But, yeah, I am beat, so home and bed definitely sounds of the good.” They’d stopped outside his apartment complex and Buffy smiled weakly before continuing, “Thanks, Giles. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night”
 
“Goodnight. Sleep well and I will see you in the morning before class.”