Song: 'I Can't Catch You' by Sixpence None the Richer
POV: Spike's

What, exactly, does the bloody chit think she's doing? She's been following me around like some kind of whipped puppy for *weeks*, now, and it's starting to make me *insane*!

I mean, yeah, I understand that she's concerned-- and she's the *only* one-- about what 'poor Spike' might do, but this is getting out of hand!

Okay. I'm pretty sure I loved the Slayer. She drove me almost entirely *mad*, especially after I was 'gifted' with the bloody chip in my noggin by those bloody-be-damned soldier-boys, but still... a part of me is *singing* because I'm still a *vampire*!

And yet... the smell of her, all vanilla and spice, lingers in my nostrils, and maybe it's entirely a mental thing, but I could *swear* that I *feel* her, sometimes. It's just something in the air, something in the purchased blood rushing through my veins. And, I can tell... she doesn't want me to mourn her the way I've been doing. She doesn't want me to feel even more dead inside than I actually am, just because she's gone, and maybe that's just *wishful* thinking on my part, but... I *want* to listen! I want to trust what I'm feeling, and do what I *know* will make me happy.

And here I am, sounding like a big old ponce-- more so than my Sire ever did-- because what I *really* want... *who* I really want now... Well, she's happily partnered up with another of her kind. A *witch*. A *girl* witch. A *blonde*, *cute*, *doormat* of a blonde girl-y witch, at that!

But she still follows me. She follows me, and watches me, and sometimes I think I can sense her on the edges of my life when I *know* she's off somewhere having lots of... well, when I know she's off with her girlfriend. Not tonight, though. No, tonight, she's right there behind me, and... I'm going to the bloody Bronze, and maybe she'll decide that I'm all right, and leave me be? Or maybe I'll talk to her; tell her what's going on in my petrified brain.

And yet, there's nothing I can say to her that won't scare her off. I mean, telling her I'm interested-- regardless of her smell when I'm near-- is likely to send her flying as far away as possible, *or* earn me a long-deserved stake in my ass-- heart-- whatever.

// I guess you could say I'm a little afraid. What if you go away?

I've seen it before, I've been here before.

If I have to love myself, tell me how to love myself...

What's there to love about myself? //

I know she's there, but I don't know exactly where. Somehow, between my mourning and the renovations, I've lost my sense of the Bronze. But it doesn't matter, because I can feel her eyes on me; feel her confusion, and... it brings a tear to my eye. I remember what it was like to be human; to *feel* all those human things, and it *hurts*! But not nearly as much as it hurts to know that I've gone and fallen for yet another unattainable girl, for she *is* unattainable.

She's bright, and funny, and her delicate beauty is almost hidden, but it's *there*, and she was obviously made for someone unnatural, because, look at her history!

First, there was the werewolf, and if he'd had *any* bloody sense, he'd have held on to her, but he didn't. Now, there's the witch. The witch who *loves* her; the witch *she* loves. And maybe it's a Hellmouth-y thing, I don't know, but... I want her; I *do* know *that*. But I'm nothing to her. Just another part of 'the gang', now.

I wish I'd never come to this heinous town.

// I just want to see that as a person you want me,

But I'm feeling the pain of all these bags in the way,

And I'm thinking you're just gonna run away, and I can't catch you. //

So I leave the bar, and go to Willie's, feeling her behind me the whole way. Unlike other nights, I don't even acknowledge her there, and I buy myself some blood and a couple bottles of fairly good whiskey, because I *know* what's going to happen next. She'll follow me to the bloody dark, dusty, *nasty* crypt I've been calling 'home' these past however many months that seem like centuries, and she'll leave me, to go home to that little *witch* of hers... and I'll sit up until dawn, drinking myself stupid enough that I can actually sleep.

And that's what was *supposed* to happen, but... I get inside, and light a few candles, and the emptiness is just *screaming* at me, and if I don't do something about it, I just might end up walking into the morning light, and... "Red," I say, pulling the first bottle of whiskey from the bag I've set on the floor, "Why don't you come in and drink a toast to the Slayer with me."

I listen for her reply, but hear nothing, and I know I'm about to sigh sadly when I hear her walking into my crypt.

Her shoes are almost silent against the cement floor, and it's only her heart beat that tells me I'm not imagining all of this, but... 'Sure', she says. She sits down in my chair, and there's such a look of shared anguish on her face that I don't have the heart to tell her that... while I still *hurt*, it's not over the *Slayer*.

That thought alone is enough to stun me, but I make my slow collapse look intentional, and end up on the floor, leaning against her legs. I pass her the bottle I've only just opened, and try to contain my smile when I feel her fingers in my hair, but... the Slayer. That's why we're here, to talk about the *Slayer*. And so I start to talk, the words flowing effortlessly while I focus on the sensation of her fingers stroking my hair, and we pass the bottle back and forth, and I can smell her-- *sense* her-- becoming more and more intrigued... excited... desirous. I was actually convinced that she was gay, until just now, because...

Her fingers are stroking my head in a way you just don't *do* unless you bloody well *want* the one you're touching, and she's slightly drunk and saying things she'd *never* say while sober, and... I truly wish I could have turned her that night in her dorm room, because she'd have made me whole... complete. But obviously, that wasn't to be, and now... Now, I have to figure out what I'm supposed to do, because she fancies herself a lesbian, and fancies herself in *love* with that girl of hers. But she's *not*.

// I guess I would say that I want you to stay,

'Cause you have this strange knack

Adds a glow to my black as you chase it all away... //

So I pull away, and drain the remaining half of the bottle before opening the second one, and it's only a matter of minutes before she's had enough to throw caution to the winds, and our mouths are pressed tightly together, lips moving, tongues writhing, teeth nipping and nibbling, and when she moans my name, I know I'm not wrong.

She *wants* me! And without even knowing that she could be the one to *change* me! She could be the one to make me accept what I've been forced into becoming, and... I'd welcome that for her. I would willingly become anything she demanded of me, in order to *be* with her... *to* *be* *hers*!

And suddenly, I'm realizing... I never truly *did* love the Slayer! I wanted her, sure-- just as I wanted the one in China, and later, the one in New York-- but I never *loved* her! I wanted to make her mine, just as the other two were, and apparently I'd deluded myself into believing that desire to possess as *love*, because thanks to the *chip*, I couldn't *kill* her!

I'm groaning, myself, now, because I finally understand it! I finally *see*! And I also see that whatever it is I need to become in order to have Willow as my own...? Well, it's a small price...

// And I hope that you can see I will someday leave these things,

I am waiting to be free, But I'm feeling the pain

Of all these bags in the way, and I'm thinking

You're just gonna run away, and I can't catch you... //

And we're standing now, pressed tightly together, and our clothes are flying from us, as if by magic, and maybe it *is* magic, considering her abilities, but... We're across my room, on the bed I got a while back, and she's pulling me over her, her legs tight around my waist, and *Hell*! I can't stop myself, not that I *want* to, and she's *perfect*! Her arms are around me, her fingers digging deep into my back, and I'm watching her face, and... She's well aware of what we're doing, and... she looks *glad*! Her eyes are wide, and barely showing any signs of the alcohol we shared, and I want this so *much*, it's almost a biological imperative-- or it would be if I still had such things-- and I'm deep inside her, and I don't know why I ever thought that anyone *but* she could make me happy and fulfilled!

I can hear her crying out to her Gods, feel her tightening around me, and I've never known anything like this in all my years, and... Whatever it takes, I'm not going to let her go. I don't care if I have to start acting like the mighty pouf, hiding away in dark rooms and becoming a force for 'good'... Whatever it takes, I'm not giving her up!

And I'm not sharing her with that *witch* of hers, either! Of course, *that* part might take some time, but I'm a patient man... vampire... whatever. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not patient, but... I *will* be. For *her*.

// I want to catch you...//

End.

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