DISCLAIMER:All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB. The song at the end is All For You by Sister Hazel.
RATING:PG. Some Buffy/Spike thoughtsaction
BACKGROUND: Season 4 story. It's the interval between Motivations and Eve and explains more of where the series departed from the show.

Buffy watched the moon rise above the clouds from her place at her dorm room window as darkness fell.

The party had been nice. It was good not to have spent her 19th birthday out fighting an unkillable demon or losing her Slayer powers for a change. Just a plain old-fashioned birthday bash with her friends. She had her best girlfriend, Willow, her best guy-pal , Xander, his ex-demon girlfriend, Anya, her kind of guy, Riley, and her Watcher, Giles all in attendance. All of the important people in her life were there celebrating her birthday.

Things had never gone so well. She had discussed the Initiative with Giles, and rather than joining it, she opted to take Modern Psychology with Professor Walsh. Willow signed up for the class too, and Xander seemed to be happy with how things were going. Riley even agreed with her decision to stay separate from his job in the Initiative.

So if things were going so well, why did she keep thinking about the one person who hadn't been at her party?

Spike watched the full moon rise above the clouds from his heavily curtained bedroom as darkness fell, and he prepared to go out for the night.

He knew what day it was; he knew very well. The Watcher had told him to cancel his nightly patrol with the Slayer on this day. No reason was given, but Spike knew what day it was. It was the Slayer's birthday.

How could he forget? That was the day she'd destroyed his unlife. It was the day she brought Angelus back, which set in motion a chain of events that turned his life upside down. Dru had left him, twice. He had helped save the world only to lose his own. It was all the Slayer's fault.

This was all his fault. She was supposed to be happy. Spike had moved out of Giles's over a week ago; he should have been out of her system. Yet here she was, imagining his arms around her, his mouth touching hers in that too forbidden manner. Her body remembered how it felt to be pressed against him, matching every contour and plane, discovering the simmering fire she'd found hidden beneath his cool exterior.

Did he know what today was? Would it even matter to him that she had turned 19, likely the oldest Slayer in a century? No, she had no illusions on that one. Her very existence could only mean failure to Spike. By living, it meant he had been unable to kill her.

He wanted to kill her. He hated her. Killing her would have made him so happy. She was the fly in his ointment; everything she did brought him pain. Why hadn't he done the deed when he'd had the damn ring? The Slayer had been at his mercy then, but what did he do? He stood and gloated over her failure with the new boy.

If he would get her alone, he could destroy her. He wanted to torture her until she begged for mercy, letting her suffer the way he had. He would wrap his hands around her throat and kiss her until he drove all thoughts out of her head.

*Bloody Hell!* No matter how he worked around it, he always made it back to that. Try as he may, he was having serious trouble hating her. He attempted to blame her for his losing Dru, but he knew it wasn't the Slayer's fault. Angelus had been first in Dru's heart; Spike had been second or worse. The Slayer had been - what- 17? It's not like souls came with instruction manuals. She could have never guessed the consequences of her actions. The bloke had tired to do her in more than once, in addition to killing one of her friends.

Then again, Spike had personally made a few attempts on her life too. But he also abandoned his sire and clan to help her save the world. Spike remembered watching her and offering her the truce by that police car. She had agreed reluctantly to help him, yet she never went back on her word. She was his sworn enemy, and still he offered her a bargain. Why had he done that?

Honor. He had traveled the world, first with Dru and Angelus, and then with Dru again. In all his journeying over the century, he had found he could separate the few humans he bothered to meet into two categories: those with honor and those without. She had honor. He trusted her to be bound by her word, to use the conscience he didn't have. The Slayer held up her end of the deal, though he had shrunk a little from his. It was so rare to find a truly honorable person like her. Buffy Summers was unique.

*I wish I could hate her.*

*I wish I could just hate him,* Buffy mused.

Spike was a vampire, soulless, evil, bad, demon. She knew the drill. For her, he was public enemy number one. They weren't friends; they couldn't be friends. It was the way it had to be. She was the Slayer; she killed vampires. It was her job, her destiny, her duty. He was a vampire; it was his lot in life to kill. He completely lacked any redeeming characteristics.

First of all, he was an evil demon, obsessed with ending the world . . .

No, that was wrong. He'd personally helped saved it twice.

So he was an evil demon. He wasn't nice, kind, helpful, good, benevolent, or merciful. An emotionless immoral killer is what he was. Spike never felt regret, remorse, or sadness.

Only that wasn't true either. There was that one time when he had lost Drusilla. Buffy had never seen a love-sick non-brooding vampire before. He had been in such pain, though it was obvious that he was very drunk.

That was something she and he had in common. The pain. Both of them had been hurt and betrayed by love. He understood what it was like to be in love and not be able to express it. They knew what it was like to watch their loves turn on them. She'd been helpless like he was now. She had experienced the same agony of being so vulnerable.

Still, despite all the pain, both of them had the strength to feel emotion, laugh, cry, scream, and yell (especially at each other.)

*Stop it. Relating to him does not make him the kind of guy you take home to meet Mom. *

Except he'd already met her mom, twice. Worse, she even liked him, though the circumstances were a little strange . . .

*But admit it, there's no future between you and Spike.*

*The Slayer and I have a future.* A good one at that. She had a nice pointy stake with his name on it.

He honestly hoped she would kill him. Life without Dru or biting completely sucked. Life lusting after the Slayer's delicious warm body was even worse. His head told him it was wrong, his demon told him it was so wrong, his world stated specifically it was wrong; and he just kept wanting to peel her clothes off and sink into her soft creamy center.

Not a chance on earth would he turn into his sire. Spike was not going to be the Slayer's newest vampire sex slave. No way, better to die right here and now than to do that.

Spike pulled a stake from under his pillow. He could do it. One stab was all it would take. No one was here to stop him.

His eyes glanced at the room. Nothing here to stop him-

-Except his promise to her.

*I hope I can kill myself.*

*I hope he doesn't poof himself.*

They weren't friends, but she didn't want him to commit suicide. If anyone was going to do him in, it was going to be her.

Suddenly worried, Buffy looked at the telephone. She had an overwhelming urge to call him and make sure he was okay.

Buffy picked up the telephone.

His eye fell on the silent phone beside him, and he felt the urgent need to talk to her. He set his stake down and reached for the phone.

*What could I say?* Buffy looked at the receiver.

*What would I say to her?* Spike stared at his phone.

*Hi! Today's my 19th birthday, how was your centential?*

*Hello, Slayer. Happy 19th, sorry I didn't come to the party as the only senior citizen?*

*I also called to ask if you were planning to kill yourself?*

*I called because I'm feeling all suicidal?*

*I'm also having lots of bad thoughts about you, all the time.*

*Stake me because I have all sorts of dirty fantasies about the you and that bathtub.*

*I can't do it.*

*Bugger it! Not doing it.*

Buffy set the phone back down. She had been so close to calling him. Way too close. She couldn't cross that line again. The lesson had been pretty crystal clear the first time.

All she could do now was ignore those feelings. She couldn't think about getting smoochies (and more) from Spike. It was definitely off limits. There was nothing else to do except avoid letting herself think that stuff.

Buffy lay back down in her bed. If she went to sleep, those wrong, confusing feelings might go away.

Spike dropped the phone in its cradle. He couldn't believe it; he'd almost called her. That was not something he was supposed to do. Kissing the Slayer had been a complete mistake, and something no vampire should ever do.

He didn't feel like going out any more. He did not want to see her popping up in his head at the most inopportune times. That was not the nightmare he was looking for. He would pretend he wasn't feeling these things for the Slayer.

Spike stretched out full length on his bed. If he pretended his thoughts on the Slayer didn't exist, maybe they'd go away.

The moon continued to rise as the two mortal enemies slept, closer in thought than they ever imagined.