A Good Man

"And suddenly, I find myself

 Listening to a man I've never known before

 Telling me about the sea

 All his loves till eternity

 Oh he's here again

 The man with the child in his eyes"

-- Kate Bush, "The Man With The Child In His Eyes"

Part One

-1-

The night air was warm and filled with the scent of jasmine. In all the years Buffy had patrolled this cemetery, she'd never noticed the blooms that flourished between the gravestones. Perhaps being back among the living made her more aware of the beautiful things in life. Or perhaps the jasmine bushes had invaded the cemetery while she was dead. Buffy wondered if her daily routine of trudging through the graves and spreading vampire dust around had stopped the flowers from growing in the past. But in that case, why would they start growing now?

Buffy dismissed the thought with a shrug as she followed her usual patrol route through the graves. The tombstones were like old friends to her now. There were the ones with illegible names, the ones with strange shapes, the ones that had given rise to vampires. Buffy noticed with satisfaction that the gravestone she'd broken the day before Willow went on her murderous rampage had been replaced with a new one. It took time, but things returned to normal eventually.

With no vampires to slay, Buffy was reduced to twirling her stake and humming a little tune by the time she entered the oldest part of the cemetery. The tombs there were packed more tightly, some lying only a few inches away from the ancient, lop-sided crypts that dominated the area. Buffy smiled and put her stake away when she noticed light in the windows of Spike's former crypt. Clem was no doubt watching some old movie or one of those corny eighties shows he liked so much. Buffy didn't understand why he didn't just move Spike's television to his own home, since there was no sign of the vampire coming back. But Clem was unwaveringly loyal; he had promised to look after Spike's crypt, and he wasn't going to abandon it to any passing demon. Buffy thought his loyalty was kind of sweet.

As she drew closer, Buffy could hear music from inside the crypt. She knocked on the outside door and entered, looking forward to some inane chatter with the kindly demon. It beat hunting for vampires that just weren't there. As she walked in, Buffy was surprised to find that most of the furniture in the crypt was gone, including the television. The only items left were the refrigerator, the recliner, a lamp on the bier, and a clockwork radio on the window ledge.

Clem was nowhere to be seen. Someone else was standing by the refrigerator, pouring himself a glass of blood. Buffy stared at him and felt as though her heart stopped beating.

"Spike?"

He evidently hadn't noticed her presence. Hearing her voice, Spike spun towards her and dropped his glass. It smashed noisily on the stone floor, spattering blood on his bare feet.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he exclaimed, more startled than angry. He turned off the radio and took a couple of steps in her direction.

"That's my question for you!" said Buffy, reaching for her stake in case he came any closer. "Only minus the bad language, obviously."

Spike stared at her. She stared back. She'd known he would come back, of course. No matter why they left or what they had done to her, they always came back. Never for long, not long enough to deal with what had happened, to explain to her why they had left. But always long enough to rub her nose in their happy Buffy-free lives.

Spike didn't look as if his Buffy-free life had been happy. In fact he didn't look much like himself at all. He was still wearing his black jeans, but they were torn and scorched in places. His shirt was some kind of white sports outfit, with grey and red stripes down the sides, and a crest bearing three lions over his heart. Spike's once slicked-back peroxide hair was now a dull mass of long, mousy brown curls, and he looked as if he was growing a beard. Buffy was also surprised to see that he was wearing plastic-framed glasses, though he removed them and hid them behind his back when he noticed she was observing him. He was shorter than she remembered; an unthreatening little man lost in his oversized shirt, his face an open book of bewilderment and apprehension. Buffy lowered the stake.

Glasses? Unbleached hair? A white shirt? If she hadn't recognised his voice, Buffy might have thought it was a case of mistaken identity. But this was definitely Spike. She'd spent four months waiting for this moment -- hoping, fearing, rehearsing what she would say -- and here it was. Spike was back.

And after all those months of waiting, Buffy couldn't think of a single sensible thing to say.

"So, what's with the new look?" she asked after a pause, trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant. "Finally woke up one evening and realised the whole Billy Idol thing is, like, twenty years out of date?"

Spike ran his hand through his hair. A wan smile twisted his lips. "Well, if you must know, I'm here incognito. I do have a lot of enemies. Thought the hippy look would throw them off the scent."

"So you're here incognito. Right." Buffy folded her arms and looked around the crypt with amusement. "And to set your many enemies even further off the scent, you thought you'd move back into the first place they'll come looking for you."

"Well, you know, me and planning..." said Spike with a wave of his hand. "Um, do you want a drink? Something to eat? Clem left tons of rubbish in the fridge. He's certainly been making the most of the place since I left."

Buffy smiled at him, tempted by the offer, but her smile faded when he mentioned his departure. Seeing him so different and quiet, Buffy had nearly forgotten who Spike was and why he had gone. But this was the vampire that had attacked her in her bathroom. Buffy looked away as the memory surfaced for the first time in weeks. Those same hands clawing at her bathrobe. That same face contorted into an unrecognisable mask of pain and anger. The feel of the hard floor beneath her injured back. The bathmat skidding on the cold tiles as she scrambled helplessly to escape. Her, helpless! God, she'd nearly erased the whole incident from her mind. Filed it away under the same 'Don't Think About It' category as the Angelus nightmare, crawling out of her grave, and Mom/Giles sex.

"I-I don't think--" she started, unnerved by the memory. "I mean-- Not that I think you'd try to, you know... but..."

"It's okay. I understand." Spike looked down and nudged the broken glass with his foot. "And I wouldn't. That was..."

"I know." Buffy took a deep breath and raised her stake again. "But, you know, not gonna happen again. Ever."

Spike raised his face towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. Buffy could see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching as he steadied his emotions. Maybe threatening him with the stake was a bit much. It wasn't like he'd actually tried to assault her again. On the other hand, better safe than sorry. Buffy kept the stake raised and at the ready.

After a brief pause, Spike faced her again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and sad.

"Buffy, I know this won't make things better, but I am so sorry about what happened. What I did." He sighed. "I never thought I'd fall so low. Never thought I'd cause you so much pain. But--I guess I completely underestimated what I could--"

"Yeah, me too," said Buffy coldly.

Spike turned away, wiping his face with his hands. Staring at the black ENGLAND on the back of his shirt, Buffy felt a bizarre twist in her stomach as she realised he was crying. Her anger abated and she put the stake away. He was sorry. He was really sorry. There was none of the macho posturing she'd expected to see. No threatening words, no pathetic excuses. Just a very unhappy Spike who regretted what he had done.

"I didn't come back to bother you." Spike waved his hand at a pile of crumpled papers on the bier. "I was going to write to you, you know. Just say I was sorry. That I wouldn't be bothering you anymore. I only needed to come back here to settle some debts. Be off in a few days... Thought I'd leave it up to fate whether you saw me or not." He shifted his position to look over his shoulder at her. "I think you're entitled to beat me up if you want to."

Buffy winced. "I'm not into that anymore. New, improved Buffy here. Full of the milk of human kindness."

Spike laughed bitterly, then let out a long sigh and slumped down on the ledge under the window.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry." He ran his hand through his unruly hair again, making it stand up in uneven curls. "Yeah, I bet that helps after-- God, Buffy, you must really hate me."

"I don't hate you, Spike," said Buffy in a soft voice.

Buffy paused before continuing, trying to gather her thoughts. She'd gone over the incident many times, in her mind and when explaining it to others. She'd told her friends it wasn't that terrible and there was no harm done; to appease Xander, to console Dawn, to convince Giles that she wasn't traumatised or about to sink into another depression. There was no time for everyone to be wringing their hands over such a minor incident when there was a broken Willow to take care of.

But now that she was face to face with Spike himself, Buffy wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't pretend it was nothing, because he was the only other person in the world who knew exactly what had happened between them. And he was the one who had done it. On the other hand, she didn't want some long, drawn out conversation about the whys and wherefores of their unfortunate encounter. It was way too painful.

"Look, Spike, what you did was bad," she said, looking everywhere but at Spike's miserable face. It was time to draw on the newfound maturity she'd cultivated all summer. "It wasn't ripping me out of heaven bad, and it's not like no one has ever... just not like that. But I know you didn't mean to harm me. And it's over now. It was months ago, and-- Spike, I don't think either of us can say anything about that night that won't make things more painful. But I know you're sorry. It doesn't make it okay, but it... It's... I'm glad you told me... about you being sorry."

Way to go with the mature. More like babbling idiot, thought Buffy. She leaned against the inner door and, steeling herself, looked straight at Spike to see his reaction. He was watching her, his head tilted to one side, an open, earnest expression on his face. Buffy could see his blue eyes shining with tears in the dim light of the crypt. A demon wearing the face of an angel...

"I--I should go," said Buffy, fumbling with the door handle.

Spike hung his head. "Yes, of course."

Breathing deeply to calm herself, Buffy turned and walked out into the night air. She'd often imagined Spike's return; what he'd say, what she'd say. She'd expected him to come back drunk and disorderly, perhaps, the way he had been when Drusilla first left him. Or maybe his long absence meant he had finally gotten the chip out, and he would return to Sunnydale for an old-style killing spree. She'd even considered the possibility that he would come back the same, maybe turn up on her doorstep one day, full of romantic notions and ingratiating apologies. But Buffy had never imagined him so devastated.

In all the confusion, she hadn't even asked what he'd been doing all these months. Buffy sighed as she left the cemetery. He'd only been back in her life a few minutes, and he was already tearing her apart.

"Spike's back?"

Buffy was relieved to see that Dawn's first reaction was surprise, not horror or anger. She'd spent the night debating whether to tell anyone about Spike's return. Not that there were many people to tell; with Willow, Anya and Giles in England, the only people who would care were Xander and Dawn. Buffy had decided Dawn had a right to know.

"He's only here for a few days," explained Buffy, reaching for the cereal box. "But I thought you should know."

Dawn frowned, her eyes fixed on her bowl. "Did you talk to him?"

"Yes." Buffy paused, collecting her thoughts. "It was weird. Seeing Spike again after what happened, after all this time. He's different; I mean, he looks different. But he's really sorry, and I think we're okay."

"Okay?" sneered Dawn. "You're okay with the guy who tried to rape you?"

Buffy sighed. She folded the bag inside the cereal box and put it back in the cupboard.

"You spend too much time with Xander," she said, struggling to keep her voice level. "I told you what happened. It was complicated."

"Yeah. The golden explanation for everything that happened after you came back. Complicated!" Dawn crossed her arms. "So, can I go see our best friend the attempted rapist now that he's back in town?"

"If you want to see him, then you can," said Buffy, though it was obvious Dawn was just testing her. "I think you're old enough to decide. You don't need my permission. What happened between us was all about me and him. About the sick, twisted thing we had. And I told you, he's sorry. I'm sure what happened doesn't affect how he feels about you. I know he would never hurt you, Dawn."

"Yeah. But then, you thought he wouldn't hurt you, either, didn't you?"

Buffy laughed a bitter little laugh. "Yeah, I guess I did think that. No idea why. It's not like he never hurt me before. But I shouldn't have gotten involved with him in the first place. I was in a bad way. He was a vampire. A whole world of really bad decisions."

"I still can't believe he did that to you," said Dawn, her expression softer. "The way he was last summer, I couldn't imagine Spike ever hurting you. He loved you so much." Her face turned bitter. "How could he betray you like that? How could he say he loved you, and yet do something so ugly and then run away?"

"I don't know. Guess you always hurt the one you love. But Spike's a strange guy anyway. He can be incredibly kind and full of love, but he's dangerous too. It's easy to forget just how dangerous he can be." Buffy paused, remembering Spike's sad face the previous evening. Then she laughed as a thought occurred to her. "But you know me. I only have to sleep with a guy for him to turn into a jerk! So far, I have a perfect score. Whatever you do, Dawn, never come to me for advice on relationships!"

Dawn laughed, reluctantly at first, then more freely. She carried her cereal bowl to the sink and started to clean up. As she waited for the sink to fill, Dawn looked down at the floor, her innocent young face locked in concentration. Not for the first time, Buffy cursed fate and herself and Spike for subjecting Dawn to such horrible things. But Buffy reminded herself that she had been the same age when her parents divorced, and when she killed her first vampire. The world was a terrible place sometimes, but Dawn was old enough to face it.

"Do you think he'll do it again?" asked Dawn. Her tone was soft, but her eyes were full of apprehension.

"No!" Buffy was taken aback. "Well, I guess I can't say for sure, seeing as I didn't think he'd do that at all. But I think we were both in a really, really bad place. I mean I was really screwed up when I was with him." She busied herself with replacing the bag in the kitchen trash can. "He was a vampire, the kind of evil thing I'm supposed to kill, right? But he loved me, and I used him to feel better. And then I told him to move on, but I got jealous when he did. Did I tell you he came to apologise that night? He was so desperate and when I told him-- when we talked, I guess he thought he could do what he always did before: win me over with his... Oh, I don't know. It's--"

"Complicated?"

Buffy gave another little laugh. "Yeah."

"Yeah. I guess it is complicated," said Dawn coldly. "That's some 'bad place' that excuses attempted rape."

"Dawn, nothing excuses attempted rape, sexual assault, molestation or whatever you want to call a guy coming on to you after you said 'no'." Buffy raised her finger, fired by the horrifying thought of anyone trying to rape Dawn. "And don't you ever let any boy make you think you're responsible if he acts out of line. You have a right to say 'no' whatever your relationship with him, and if he crosses that line, then he deserves whatever he--" She noticed Dawn's amused expression and stopped. "Oh my God! We were talking about Spike and I'm suddenly giving you a lecture. What's with me these days?"

"It's okay, Buffy. It's that Mom vibe coming out again." Dawn's momentary smile faded again. "Nice lecture. But what I'm seeing is that you spoke to your attempted rapist once, and you've decided it's 'okay'."

"Not okay." Buffy rubbed her forehead. "But it's different. Like when I died last year is different from what happened to Tara. My thing with Spike wasn't like a normal relationship. It was... different," she said. God, that sounded so lame. "I mean, he isn't human. He's a creature whose very nature is to kill people. So what happened was bad, but not a surprise, which-- I guess that's what makes it different."

Dawn scrubbed a bowl and laid it on the drying rack. She clearly wasn't convinced. Buffy couldn't blame her; coherent explanations just weren't her speciality.

"Does that mean you've already forgiven him?" asked Dawn, her eyes downcast and her tone aggressive.

"Dawn, I don't--"

Both sisters turned towards the living-room when they heard a knock on the front door. Xander walked in, resplendent in a loud short-sleeved shirt and multicoloured shorts. He tossed his car keys in the air and caught them with a goofy grin as he entered the kitchen. Obviously a good mood day for the Xan-man.

"Hey, Dawnie," said Xander. "Ready for your driving lesson?"

"Yeah. Just need to finish this." Dawn hastily scrubbed the last few dishes in the sink.

Xander said hello to Buffy, helped himself to a handful of cereal from the cupboard and shuffled back out to the car. As Dawn went to follow him, Buffy caught her arm.

"Dawn, don't tell Xander about Spike. Not yet."

Dawn's eyes narrowed. "Why? Afraid Xander might stake him? Would that really be such a bad thing?"

"You don't mean that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Ow...owowowow," groaned Buffy, limping through the back streets of Sunnydale. Every vamp on the Hellmouth would be laughing if they saw the Slayer like this. As it was, she'd dusted the one vamp that had had the audacity to look upon her in this state, but she was impatient to get home before anyone unstakable saw her.

As she neared the Bronze, however, she heard a woman scream.

"Oh crap. Why now?" muttered Buffy, stake in hand as she hobbled in the direction of the cries.

When she reached the alley behind the Bronze, Buffy was nearly knocked over as two youths ran in the opposite direction. Puzzled, she continued towards the woman, who had stopped screaming and how seemed to be talking to someone. Buffy would have recognised the second voice anywhere.

"Yeah, well, cheers, luv," Spike was saying. "It was nothing, really."

"But you scared those creeps off! Thank you so much," said the woman. "Is there any way I can repay you?"

"Don't worry about it, luv. No problems."

Turning into the alley, Buffy could see Spike and the young woman he had apparently just saved. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was the Big Bad really saving random women in alleyways?

Spike heaved a sigh of relief as the woman thanked him again and walked away.

"Right." Not noticing Buffy, Spike turned on his heels with a flourish, a sarcastic grin on his face. "Off to the Spikemobile, you mysterious, black-clad hunk of a night thing!"

Buffy laughed out loud. Spike turned towards her with a murderous expression, his body poised for combat. But when he realised who she was, his shoulders slumped and he lowered his eyes. Buffy was disappointed by his sudden change of mood. That was quite some effect she had on him. Sucked all the life right out.

This time, Spike was clean-shaven and wearing black, though the long curls were still there. Buffy wondered if he was trying to grow an Afro. She felt like teasing him about it, but he didn't look as if he was in a mood to be teased. Buffy lowered her eyes and thought back to her conversation with Dawn a couple of days earlier. Maybe teasing her attempted rapist wasn't such a good thing.

On the other hand, she had to say something. They couldn't just stand there looking at the ground forever.

"So, what was all that about?" asked Buffy, pointing at the woman in the distance.

"Nothing." Spike shrugged, his eyes still downcast.

They both stood still for a moment. Okay, so maybe they could stand there staring at the ground forever. But Buffy had better things to do with her time. She muttered something about Dawn and started to limp in the direction of home. Spike watched her walk past.

"Bad patrol?" he asked, his eyes not quite reaching hers.

Buffy pursed her lips. "New shoes."

Surprised, Spike raised his eyebrows, and then chuckled. Buffy crossed her arms and pouted, in the hope that he would rise to the bait and tease her. Being teased by her attempted rapist had to be better than watching him stare at the ground.

Spike made a show of leaning back to take a good look at her footwear.

"You wore new boots to go on patrol?"

"What? I have to break them in!" She stretched out one foot so he could see the elegant pink boots she was wearing. "They're really cool. And it's not like the place is crawling with vamps these days... um, present company excepted, that is." She frowned. "Spike, how do vampires shave?"

"They usually get someone else to do it for them... Oh." Spike touched his shaven face, realising why she'd asked the question. "Yes, I decided to do away with the Jesus Christ Superstar look. Not really my style."

"No." Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Can't say it's mine either. Men with beards. Yech."

Spike didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at her with an unreadable jumble of emotions on his face. He looked so different with that unruly brown hair and the dark circles under his eyes. And he was acting different too. It wasn't like Spike to be so quiet and diffident, as if he was waiting for her to say something first. Plus, saving women in alleys. Definitely didn't compute.

Buffy looked down at her new boots and couldn't think of anything to say. Way to go with the great conversation skills.

"Well, I..." said Spike suddenly. He waved in the general direction of the cemetery.

"Oh, right, yes. And I need to see Dawn...who's probably in bed by now." Buffy shifted her weight from one foot to the other and winced. "Ugh, I give up!"

She limped over to sit on a crate in the alley and started to take off her left boot. Spike watched her for a moment, still standing in the same spot.

"Can I do anything to help?" he asked.

"Wanna wear in my boots for me?"

"Hmm." Spike pretended to consider that. "I don't think they'd suit me."

Still struggling with her boot, Buffy smiled. "I don't know. They might go with your new look. Throw your enemies further off the scent."

"Well, I suppose if it didn't throw them off the scent, it'd certainly give them a fright!" said Spike, relaxing enough to give her a sweet smile.

Buffy giggled at the mental picture of Spike wearing her boots. That seemed to encourage him; Spike came over and sat on a box beside her, a small distance away. Buffy tensed, but then willed herself to stay calm. She was the Slayer, and she had a stake in her pocket. Spike was not dangerous. Besides, this whole conversation was kind of fun.

"I didn't get to ask," he said in a soft voice. "How have you been? I mean, in general. You seem a lot happier."

"Yeah, I'm all cool." Buffy smiled at him, but not too long. Mustn't encourage him. "I'm all done with the depression thing. Got a new job: better hours, better money, less greasy smells. Taking evening classes, nothing great, but interesting to learn something new. Dawn comes on patrol sometimes. She's really good, too; I don't have to worry about protecting her so much. So yeah, things are good."

"Great. That's wonderful." Spike nodded, that sort of vigorous nodding people do when they're trying to think of something to say.

Buffy struggled some more with her boot and finally pulled it off. It had left angry red marks on her foot and calf. She rubbed them and wondered if she would have to walk home barefoot. Spike clucked his tongue at her.

"Look at the state of you, you silly mare," he said with a grin.

Buffy pouted. "It's not funny, Spike. I'm hurt!"

That seemed to disturb Spike. He looked down at his own shoes, those scuffed Doc Martins he'd worn for as long as she'd known him. He wiped one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. Unwilling to watch him cry again -- what was with the teary thing anyway? -- Buffy started work on removing the other boot. The night was so quiet that she could hear a seriously confused bird tittering by one of the bright lampposts. Dumb thing thought it was dawn. But the night wasn't through yet, no matter how bright the streetlamps made it.

"Clem told me about Tara," said Spike in a soft voice. "He got the whole story from Dawn, apparently. Bloody hell, there really is evil in the world!"

"Yeah." Buffy felt a pang at the mention of Tara's death, though she couldn't help noticing the irony of Spike's statement.

After a pause, Spike continued. "I've been thinking about it, and the thing is, magic always has consequences. With the amount of mojo your Wicked Witch of the West conjured up to resurrect you, I'm thinking maybe in some weird way, Tara's death was the price she had to pay. That we all had to pay, for getting you back."

"Actually, Giles said something about that too." Buffy was surprised Spike had come to the same conclusion. "It's weird. The day Tara died is the day I felt alive again. Really there for the first time. Anya said Willow never really finished my resurrection spell." She turned to Spike. "I don't know if Clem told you, but I was shot too, right through the heart. Willow healed me."

"You think she finally finished the spell?"

"I don't know." Buffy shrugged. "I'm not big with the magic and cosmic repercussions stuff. But Giles thinks it's all related. That I felt out of place because I wasn't supposed to be there, and couldn't feel better until Tara died and I took her place. He kept going around saying 'Dear God, I should have known'. Like it was all his fault. I don't know if it was Tara's death, or being shot and healed that made me feel better. I hope it was the being shot. I don't want to think Tara had to die because of me."

Spike was silent for a long time before speaking again. "So, what happened to Willow after she went all Armageddon on you?"

"She's in England with Giles and Anya. Well, with Giles, to be cured by some good witches over there. Anya's kind of along for the ride. I mean, the... to help... with her vengeance demon powers," stammered Buffy, remembering that Anya was another sore subject between them.

"Oh. Vengeance demon again." Spike seemed surprised. "And in England. That's a shame; I was hoping to see her." It was his turn to look concerned. "Not because, you know. Just some other matter I was hoping she could help me with."

Buffy nodded. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

She looked at Spike; his profile was in the shadow, outlined against the pale walls behind the Bronze. He was nervously clenching and unclenching his hands. No jewellery, she noticed. Maybe it had gone the way of his furniture. That probably meant he was selling off all his possessions and planning to leave soon. She chided herself for letting her heart sink just because Spike was leaving. Didn't need her attempted rapist hanging around town. Hard to believe he was the same person now, seeing him so calm and sad.

"Spike," said Buffy. "Where have you been?"

"Uganda." Spike paused for a long time, as if he didn't want to talk about it. "That's in Africa," he added.

"I knew that! Well, probably would have said Asia." Buffy rolled her eyes. "L.A., Belize, Uganda. Guess my next ex will have to go to the Moon to get away from me!"

Spike seemed uncertain how to take that, but then relaxed when he saw Buffy's amused expression.

"There's always Australia," he said with a grin. "I think that's further than Uganda."

Buffy grinned back. Then she remembered who she was talking to and lowered her eyes.

"Did you get the chip out?" she asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Spike was serious too. "No."

"So, what did you do there?" asked Buffy, as if she were asking him about a summer holiday. "Visit pyramids, walk through the desert, um, wrestle with tigers?"

"Tigers live in Asia." Spike smiled. "Didn't do much, actually. Watched England play like prats in the football World Cup -- Soccer World Cup, whatever you call it. Bummed around. Spent a lot of time thinking about what I did..." He plucked at the jagged edge of a tear in his jeans, closing it with his fingers. "It was... I didn't like to abandon you and Dawn like that. I know you've always relied on me to protect Dawn and provide some extra muscle in a fight. But under the circumstances..." He let go of the tear and it fell open, exposing a sliver of white skin. "Thing is, it's good to know you don't need me. You got better, Bob the Builder saved the world, Dawn's learning to defend herself. I was right to leave."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Buffy. "Though Dawn was upset that you left without a word."

"Didn't think a note from the guy who tried to rape her sister would go down well, somehow," said Spike with self-disgust.

"No, guess not." Buffy looked down at her sore toes. "It was kinda weird, not having you around. Guess I was used to you being there." Great. Make him think you missed him, why don't you? "I mean, after all this time... like I was used to, ah, Principal Snyder."

Buffy glanced at Spike, afraid that he might have picked up on her slip. But he was looking into the middle distance, his face grave and unhappy.

"You'd grown accustomed to my face," he said. "'S weird really. This place has been hell for me. Bit by bit, it's stripped me of everything I once was, until now, I'm as raw and naked as a newborn baby. But I still had to come back. Face the music, pay off my debts. I'd have been a coward to stay away. Even though being here hurts more than you can imagine."

Buffy let a moment go by. She didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted to help Spike shake off his melancholy. Another, smaller part, wanted him to suffer for what he'd done. But both parts agreed that she was probably the last person in the world who could help a remorseful vampire.

"You're really paying off your debts?" said Buffy after a while. She kept her tone light, in the hope of reviving their earlier teasing conversation. "Not a very vampire thing to do, is it?"

Spike looked offended. "I'm no welcher! What do you expect me to do, bugger off and leave Clem to pay my creditors off for me? If I owe someone something, I pay them back. Same applies to you." He hung his head, his voice softer. "I owed you an apology at the very least. If I could, I'd make amends, but I can't really see what I could do."

Neither do I, thought Buffy, though she said nothing. She watched him stand up and walk away, thin and sad in the pale lamplight, and felt a pang of compassion for him. Spike had done wrong and hurt her, but Buffy realised she didn't want him to suffer. It wouldn't undo what he had done, and it wouldn't make either of them happy. Buffy frowned at that thought, and remembered her pathetic attempts at explaining the situation to Dawn. Yeah, it was complicated.

It was Patrol With Dawn Night, one of those nights where Buffy could never fully relax, fearful that some monster would get the better of her little sister. Dawn was a good fighter, handy with a stake, and particularly adept with a sword. But whether it was instinctive, or a leftover from the monks' spell, Buffy still felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.

Unfortunately for Buffy's nerves, this evening was not as slow and boring as the previous ones had been. The sisters had been patrolling for half an hour when they were attacked by three large vampires. Ex-frat boys, from the look of them.

"Oh, good. I hate frat boys," said Buffy, delivering a roundhouse kick to the nearest vamp before turning to tackle his friend.

Dawn circled the third vampire, avoiding his blows and waiting for an opportunity to plant her stake in his heart. Buffy kept an eye on her while fighting the other two. She was seized with panic when Dawn underestimated the length of the vampire's reach, and didn't draw back far enough after an unsuccessful stab at his chest. The vampire whacked Dawn hard across the face, knocking her to the ground.

Buffy tried desperately to shake off her two opponents, but worry made her sloppy and it took another minute before she had both of them dusted. By the time she turned towards Dawn, the third vampire was gone. Spike stood in his place, a stake in his left hand. His eyes were on Dawn.

"Hello, nibblet."

"Spike!" exclaimed Dawn, scrambling to her feet. Her initial smile of joy faded in an instant and she took on a cooler demeanour. "Buffy said you were back. How long are you staying?"

"Only a couple more days, actually. I'm leaving on Friday."

Buffy was disappointed; he'd been in Sunnydale barely a week. "Debts all paid off?" she asked.

"Pretty much." Spike waved his hand. "Just need to track down one last demon before she goes on a rampage."

"You have to track down your creditors?" asked Buffy with a smile. "Maybe that new look of yours is throwing them off the scent after all."

Spike ran his hand through his hair and chuckled. "Yeah. Didn't even need the pink boots. But once I've got this one sorted, I'll be off. Don't want to hang around here forever."

"Yeah. Guys never do," said Dawn, her voice as icy as her demeanour. "So, Spike, what brings you back to Sunnydale after you tried to rape my sister?"

Spike staggered back as if Dawn had hit him. He stared at her wide-eyed, his expression almost as shocked and horrified as it had been after the assault. He looked at Buffy, but she didn't know what to say.

"You didn't seriously think I wouldn't find out!" continued Dawn.

"No, I didn't." Spike lifted his head to the sky. "God, I am so sorry. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you both."

"Then why?" The ice was threatening to turn into tears.

"I don't know why. Because I was insane, because I'm a bastard with the self-control of a gnat, because I'm just a monster who thought he could be a man." Spike sighed and ran his hands through his wavy hair. "I told you things were complicated, little bit."

"Yeah. That's one thing you and Buffy agree on. 'Oh, it was complicated, Dawnie'," she sneered, taking a step back and fixing both Spike and Buffy with a disgusted stare. The tears were gone. "'Oh, he held me down and tried to fuck me while I screamed for him to stop, but it's okay, he's just a vampire. It isn't real, just complicated.' And there you are, both standing there flirting about pink boots after what you did to each other. You make me sick, both of you."

Buffy stared at Dawn in amazement. Where did all that come from? And what was with the bad language? She had a good mind to slap her sister and tell her to shut up. But all she could do was stand agape.

"We weren't flirting, Dawn," said Spike in a soft voice. Dawn tossed her head. "Look, I'm not going to be here long. Buffy has a happy life now, she doesn't want to waste it hating me. I'm not worth it." He placed his fist on his chest. "Hatred gnaws at you from the inside until there's nothing left, Dawn. Hating me as much as I deserve would destroy Buffy, and it still wouldn't undo what I did to her."

Dawn glared at him. "So what? You get away with attempted rape because Buffy wants hugs and puppies? Well, I'll tell you something, Spike. If Buffy won't hate you, then I'll hate you for the both of us."

"Dawn, this really isn't about you!" exclaimed Buffy. "What happened was between Spike and me. It's not up to you to decide whether I should hate him or not."

"Oh, right. Because he's a vampire and you're the Slayer, so it's all okay. He left you bruised and crying on the bathroom floor, but it's all forgiven?"

"God! I am going to kill Xander Harris one of these days," exclaimed Buffy. "That jealous bastard had no right to tell you anything!"

"Yeah, 'cause you were planning to keep all this as your dirty little secret," Dawn spat out. "What are you so ashamed of, Buffy? Did you ask for it, is that it? Lead him on and then change your mind?"

"Dawn!" Buffy raised her hand; Spike caught it in mid-air. He pulled Buffy around to face him, his hand gripping her arm hard through the sleeve of her jacket.

"Oi. If you're going to hit anyone, Buffy, it should be me." Spike looked at her arm and let go as if it was on fire. He turned to Dawn. "And I'm the one you should be hating, pet. Buffy wasn't responsible. It was all my fault. This is all...completely...my fault. Bloody hell, you can't let this come between you. That's just stupid!"

"I'll tell you what's stupid." Dawn's face crumpled up and she backed away, shaking her head in disgust. "I used to dream about the two of you getting together. But what I got was a nightmare! I thought it would be a beautiful romance, but it was just an ugly, disgusting abomination that made even rape excusable."

"Hey, I never said--" started Buffy.

"Shut up!" screamed Dawn, bursting into tears. "Shut up! I've heard enough!"

She turned and ran away, her sobs echoing in the still night air. Buffy started after her, walking slowly to give Dawn some time alone. She wasn't sure she could stand another session of Dawn's recriminations just yet. God, what a mess.

-2-

"Dawn?"

Buffy pressed her ear to the door, but all her Slayer senses could pick up was Dawn's breathing. Maybe she was asleep already? Buffy decided that was unlikely and called her sister again.

"Go away!"

"Dawn, we really need to talk. Can I come in?"

There was a muffled noise that sounded vaguely like a "yeah", so Buffy opened the door. Dawn was lying on her bed still fully clothed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Buffy sat beside her and handed her the box of tissues she'd brought.

"Thanks," said Dawn, her breathing still punctuated by the occasional sniff.

"I'm sorry. I wish you didn't have to be involved in this mess," said Buffy. "I get why you're angry. I was angry too, for a while, but it doesn't help. Spike is right. Hatred is a bad thing and he's not worth it."

"I don't understand." Dawn looked at Buffy, her big blue eyes full of tears. "If what he did was so terrible, how can you laugh with him like that? Why don't you hate him like I do?"

Buffy stroked her sister's soft dark hair. "One thing I've learned during all these years as a Slayer is that I can't let things get to me. I don't hate vampires for trying to kill me every night. If I did, I couldn't keep going. Look how bad it was when Willow brought me back last year. If I let things get to me I just can't go on."

"So that's it?" Dawn shook her head. "Spike is forgiven, and you're both going back to normal -- until the next time he turns on you? Only maybe next time he'll finish what he started and you'll end up dead. He's a monster, Buffy. He's like a wild animal in captivity. No matter how gentle he might seem, one day, he'll turn on you. It's in his nature."

"You're right." Buffy frowned, trying to express the jumble of complex emotions she felt. "And that's why I don't hate him. If a wild animal bites you, you don't spend months feeling angry at it."

"No," said Dawn coldly. "You have it put down. When you discovered Spike could hurt you, you should have staked him. It was obvious that some day, he was going to hurt you for real."

"It's not quite that simple."

Dawn crossed her arms, a sarcastic little smile on her lips. "Why?"

"What are you trying to make me say, Dawn?" exclaimed Buffy. "That I didn't stake him because I loved him? It's not that simple either." She spread her hands. "I've known Spike longer than anyone in my life except you and the original Scoobies. He isn't a white hat hero, but whatever his motives, he has helped me a lot in the past. I can't just 'put him down'. There's too much history there." Buffy smiled sadly. "And, well, you know I wasn't great with the thinking clearly last year."

"Yeah, we all know how that ended up."

"Yes." Buffy looked Dawn in the eye, determined to tell her sister as much of the truth as she could bear. "No woman deserves what Spike tried to do to me. But I know that he wouldn't have touched me if I hadn't been sleeping with him before. And that was something I chose to do. I made the first move. I used him because I wanted to feel alive, and it was the biggest mistake of my life." She sighed. "I know you wanted me and Spike to have a grand romance, but that's just not how it worked out. It was horrible, Dawn. It made us lose all respect for one another. It could only end badly."

Dawn stared at the tissue in her hands and said nothing. Buffy touched her arm.

"Things were bad," she continued. "But it doesn't mean Spike has to be out of our lives this time. I know I've only seen him twice since he assaulted me, but he seems sincerely sorry. He's still a vampire, but there's another side to him too. Perhaps I can encourage him to show his caring side more often. He tried to help me, you know, when I was at my worst. I'm thinking perhaps I can help him a bit in return."

"Help him do what?" asked Dawn. "He can't be good. He doesn't have a soul."

"I know he'll never be anything other than a soulless vampire, but-- as weird as it sounds, I think he wants to do good. And maybe it's not just for me. You told me how he behaved last summer, and I saw him save a woman the other day. A complete stranger. He didn't even know I was watching. Spike's nature might be evil, but, somehow, I think he can do good too."

"Right." Dawn looked unconvinced. "Well, I'm guessing most human rapists can do good too. And they even have souls. Doesn't mean they don't deserve to go to jail."

"So do serial killers, Dawn, but I didn't notice you being all 'stake him' when Spike last tried to kill me. When was that, less than two years ago?"

"That was different. He didn't love you then." Dawn shook her head and shrugged. "Oh, Buffy, why are men such jerks?"

"They're not all jerks," said Buffy, watching the outline of a palm tree swaying in the breeze outside. "Just because Spike let us down like Dad. And Angel... And Riley. And Giles, I guess..."

Buffy frowned. That was quite some line-up of guys who had walked out on them. No wonder they had issues. Thinking about it, Buffy realised that every man she'd ever cared for had abandoned her. Not that she'd ever cared for Spike, of course. No, no feelings for soulless vampires. That had just been a lie that got her into trouble.

"So, didn't finish reading the book on Psychology 101?" said Dawn, in a half-mocking sarcastic tone. "Is that all the comfort you're gonna offer me?"

"Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking we don't have much luck with guys." When Dawn put on a 'do we ever' look, Buffy continued. "I mean, there's nice guys who turn evil, and evil guys who seem nice. But they all leave in the end."

Dawn nodded. "Guess the only one who's stayed a nice guy is Xander."

"Well, there's Giles too. I mean the leaving at the wrong time was bad, but he came back... then went away again. And, Xander, kinda not entirely with the nice. I mean, I wouldn't want to be Anya." Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry, Dawn. I suck at this. I think I missed the lesson where the whole helping people with feelings thing was explained." She placed her hand on Dawn's cheek. "I really want you to be happy, Dawn. I don't want you to be worrying about bad things like I do. And most of all, I don't want you to hate me."

"I don't hate you, Buffy," said Dawn in a calmer voice. "It's like this: I loved Spike. I wanted the two people I loved most in the world to get together. But when you did get together, it was you using him to feel alive, and then Spike sleeping with Anya and trying to rape you. You two together was my dream. But when it came true, it was just a nightmare. And that hurt." She hugged Buffy. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. If you need to forgive him to be a good Slayer, then go forgiveness."

Buffy stared at Dawn for a moment.

"Did we just swap places?" she asked, pointing from herself to her sister. "Because you clearly know more about Psychology 101 than I do!"

"Actually, I was thinking it over before you came in," said Dawn with a coy smile. Her smiled faded. "Guess what I'm saying is I totally don't get how you can forgive Spike, but if you do, then that's your prerogative." She touched her sister's hand. "I don't hate you, Buffy, but don't blame me for hating Spike. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven."

Buffy smiled. "You know, Giles said something to me once. You forgive people not because they deserve it, but because they need it. And I know, in my heart, that what Spike needs more than anything else right now is my forgiveness."

Another dark night in Sunnydale Cemetery, and Buffy was hunting. The air was cool and breezy enough to lift her short skirt, offering tantalising glimpses of underwear to every passing monster. But none of them were good enough for the Slayer. She paused, touching the blunt end of her stake to her lips as she appraised the assorted creatures in front of her. Humans, demons, vampires -- all worthless.

"You don't know me," she told them. "I sleep on a bed of bones."

Buffy caught her breath when a cold hand clapped over her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the gleaming yellow eyes and unfamiliar face of yet another anonymous vampire. Buffy tilted her head to one side, exposing her jugular, knowing she was safe because she had a stake in her right hand. The vampire slid his hand under her skirt and into her underwear. Buffy moaned as he bit down on her neck.

The wind blew in her hair and she collapsed face down on the bier in Spike's crypt. Turning her head to one side, Buffy could see Spike weeping, huddled in a patch of sunshine from the hole in the roof.

"No!" she screamed, leaping forward to help him even though she was naked and covered in blood. But by the time she reached him, he was dust. Buffy cried and plunged her hands into the ashes. When she wiped the tears from her eyes, the dust on her fingers stuck to her face like mud.

"This is what I am," she wept. "Tears of sorrow and the dust of vampires."

"It's just a mask, love." Buffy relaxed as she felt a strong arm slide around her. Spike put his hand on her face and pulled off the hard shell. "Inside, you're full of love."

"Hey, Beach Babe Buffy. My favourite flavour!"

Buffy woke up with a start and winced in the dazzling sunlight. Her strange dream still in mind, she sat up on the chaise longue and stared at Xander as he came down the porch steps. He was wearing a flowery shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts, and appeared to be carrying two Cokes.

"Did I wake you?" he asked. "Sorry, Dawn said you were out here soakin' up some rays. I didn't realise..." Noticing Buffy's confusion, he added, "Bad dream?"

"Oh. You know how dreams go." Buffy shrugged as he handed her a Coke.

Xander sat on the bench beside her and looked around at the Summers' sunny back yard.

"We should go to the beach again," he said. "You know, before Dawn goes back to school."

"Sounds good to me. If I didn't have work and chores and shopping, I'd be at the beach all the time. I'd make a really good beach babe." Buffy pouted playfully. "This whole single, working Mom thing just isn't my gig."

"Hey, what say I take you to the beach right now?" said Xander with a grandiose sweep of his hand. "We'll live off the land there forever!"

Buffy laughed, amused by the idea of living off the land on Sunnydale Beach. Xander grinned at her. He'd lost weight over the summer, and was looking a lot more healthy and attractive than he had for a long time. Buffy still regretted his break-up with Anya, but she had to admit that the time on his own had done him good.

"I was thinking," started Xander. He put his drink down and turned to her with an earnest expression. "You need a break, Buffy. I'm thinking I might rent something in the hills. Get away for a while. You could come with me."

Buffy frowned. "I don't think we can do that. I mean, Dawn's starting high school in two weeks."

"I know, but we could go without her, after she's settled in. Dawn's a big girl now. I'm only talking a few days."

"Oh." Buffy felt as though Xander had just thrown a cold bucket of water over her. He wanted her to go on vacation with him. Alone.

"Xander..."

"It's okay." Xander shrugged and put on his brave face. "Just one of those wacky ideas you get when you're kinda single and you know someone else who's kinda single. And you both kinda need a break."

"It's not that--" started Buffy, before realising she needed to be clear. "I mean, it is that, but also, Giles and Anya will be back with Willow in a few weeks. I think any kind of you and me would complicate things. Plus--" Buffy interrupted herself. Now was probably not the best time to mention Spike.

"Plus what?" prompted Xander. When Buffy shrugged and said "nothing", he continued. "I think things are over between me and Anya. We haven't talked in weeks, and when we do, we have nothing to say to each other. I'm not declaring my undying love here, Buffy. I'm just thinking we could help each other out. Just for a while, until you find Mister Right..." He winced. "And until I find another Miss Right I want to marry. It's just an idea. But no big if you're not interested."

Buffy stared at him, tempted by the offer. She was happy with her current life. Her new job on the credit helpdesk was a big improvement on the Doublemeat Palace. The argument about Spike notwithstanding, her relationship with Dawn was going well. She had re-embraced her calling as the Slayer. But she was lonely and there were times when she wished someone would just take her in his arms and comfort her.

But when her mind started to explore the possibility of Xander holding her in his arms, Buffy shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Xander. I really don't like you that way. We're just friends, you know that."

"Eh, like I said, no big," he said with a shrug. "I kinda resigned myself to the fact I'm not your type years ago. But I hate seeing you get hurt by jerks like Spike. You're better than that." He paused. "I hope you meet someone who deserves you."

"Well, I promise that if I do meet Mister Right, you'll be first to know."

Patrol, patrol, patrol. Boring, boring, boring. What was it about vampires that they seemed to become dormant in the summer? Buffy tossed her stake from hand to hand, her Slayer senses itching for a good fight. Or a good lay. Equally difficult to get these days. At this rate, she was going to have to be content with a binge on yesterday's pizza.

She had inspected every section of the cemetery, but there wasn't a single vampire to be seen. With a sigh, Buffy headed home, making a detour via the dark alleys in the centre of town. Still no vampires, though she did scare off a Thtalka demon lurking in a corner. Relieving itself, it turned out. But demon. Evil. Deserved to be scared, even when taking a dump.

Wrinkling her nose at that distasteful thought, Buffy put away her stake and walked down the main street. Not much happening there either. The gutted Magic Box was still empty and boarded up. The sign on the Sunnydale cinema said that 'ATTACK OF THE C ONES' was on at 10:30. Buffy had been to see the movie with Xander, Dawn and Janice that summer, and had offended everyone by falling asleep halfway through. Hey, not her fault; it was tiring work being the Slayer.

As she passed the Espresso Pump, Buffy glanced inside to see if she recognised anyone. She was surprised when she did. Spike was sitting at one of the tables, talking to two young women standing beside him. Buffy recognised one of the girls as a former student from Sunnydale High; she'd been in the class ahead of the Scoobies. The other girl looked Indian, and was talking animatedly with Spike. He was smiling at her, occasionally raising his eyebrows at something she said, his expressive face full of interest and amusement. Buffy firmly repressed the stabbing pain she felt in her chest. Jealousy was a bad, bad thing, and not something she should be feeling about Spike. If he was moving on, then good. In fact, she should even make it clear to him that he could do what he liked; there would be no repeat of the Anya fiasco. Because clear messages, good. Worked with Xander, after all.

The two women left the shop, still laughing and chatting. Buffy hesitated, then entered. Spike was sprinkling sugar on his cappuccino with such relish that he was actually doing that cute thing where he stuck his tongue between his teeth. It was a weird gesture, one which he had often made when they had sex, especially if he was feeling particularly naughty. Not much of a Big Bad if sprinkling sugar on his cappuccino made him feel naughty.

"Hey," said Buffy. "So, got tired of the whole 'lurking in the dark' thing?"

"Oh, hello," said Spike with surprise. He looked around as if he'd just noticed where he was. "Yeah, lurking in the dark gets a bit old after a hundred-odd years. Actually, I thought I'd give 'Attack of the Cones' a go." He grinned. "I think geometrical figures just don't get enough representation in action movies."

Buffy smiled and sat down opposite him. "You sound like Willow back in her nerdy days."

"I told you this place has changed me," said Spike with mock seriousness. "It's bringing out my inner nerd."

"You have an inner nerd?"

"Seems so." Spike poked the sugar into his cappuccino, his eyes downcast. "Shame it turned out to be Warren."

Buffy pondered that thought. True, Spike and Warren did share a one-time fondness for robot girlfriends, and neither of them took rejection particularly well. But Spike had shown remorse for attacking Buffy. Willow had told her Warren showed none for murdering Katrina. It didn't make sense that a soulless being should feel more remorse than a human. But then life didn't always make sense when you were grown up.

"Who were those girls?" asked Buffy, unwilling to dwell on the sad events of the previous spring. "Friends of yours?"

Buffy hoped she didn't sound too jealous. Fortunately, Spike didn't seem to notice. He was busy spooning the cream off the top of the cappuccino.

"The Indian girl is from Peckham, South-East London. I heard her talking to her friend and sort of butted in when I heard her accent. Other girl is local. Nice girls."

He stuck the spoonful of cream in his mouth and grinned at Buffy, raising his eyebrows comically. Okay, so maybe he did notice the jealous thing. Then Spike's mood changed and he planted the spoon back in the cappuccino. He left such a long pause before speaking that Buffy was afraid she was in for another tearful apology. Not that it wasn't nice to hear Spike apologise. Just getting to be overkill.

"Buffy, how did things go with Dawn?"

"Okay. I mean, she and I are okay." Buffy played with a paper napkin someone had left on the table. "She's still pretty mad at you."

"I thought you'd be pretty mad at me too."

"I was, for a while," admitted Buffy. "I thought about what happened a lot, and I guess after I'd thought about it, and talked to my friends, I realised it was something I wanted to move on from. Like you told Dawn, hatred doesn't help. With you out of town, there was no point hating you. And now you've come back, I'm kinda getting the vibe that you're sorry and wouldn't do it again. So I forgive you and it's over."

"Over? Bloody hell, after what I've done -- hurting you, hurting Dawn -- I have so much to apologise for, I should get myself a banner with 'I'm so sorry' written on it," exclaimed Spike passionately. "Like in that U2 video. Or I suppose I could always get myself a hair shirt and take up self-flagellation." The thought seemed to amuse him. "Do you think that would help?"

"Spike, did anyone ever tell you you're a real drama queen?" said Buffy with a smile. She tore off a little piece of the napkin. "Anyway, if we're into sorries: I'm sorry too. I was really mean to you. I tried to make things better afterwards, but you were in pain, and I didn't see that. I guess it was the same for you when, you know. We were both blind."

"Buffy, are you suggesting that what I did to you is okay because of what you did to me?" Spike frowned. "What is this, 'blame the victim'? You didn't want me, you were more than clear, and I--" He paused, searching for the right words. "For some bizarre reason, I thought I could change your mind. By force," he spat out in self-disgust. "Worst you could say is you broke my heart. But a broken heart doesn't give anyone the right to behave like I did."

"You're right." Buffy smoothed out the napkin and folded it neatly before putting it aside. "And being unhappy because someone ripped you out of heaven doesn't give you a right to hurt the people who love you. I sure as hell didn't deserve what you did to me, Spike. But it doesn't automatically make me the good guy. I owe you an apology as well."

Spike half-shrugged. "Oh, you know. Soulless vampire. You're the Slayer. Could even say you have a sacred duty to treat vampires badly."

"No. As the Slayer, I have a sacred duty to kill vampires, so they won't kill people. It's like a war." Buffy spread her hands, annoyed at Spike's refusal to accept her apology. "But hey, war? Geneva Convention? My calling doesn't mean I can take prisoners, use them for sex and then torture them until they go insane!"

"Oh, so using vampires for sex is a common occurrence, is it?" said Spike with amusement. The hair shirt and self-flagellation seemed to be slipping under the weight of his sense of humour.

Buffy pouted, pleased that the conversation had moved to lighter ground. "You know what I mean. Not that I don't get propositioned a lot these days. Vamps offering to 'show me a good time' before I stake them is getting kinda old." She smiled. "Word's evidently gotten around that the Slayer has a vampire fetish."

"Vampires know about us?" Spike's amusement vanished and his horrified look came back. "So not only did I contribute to your depression and then try to force myself on you, but I've ruined your reputation as well! Bloody hell, I have quite a line in making your life miserable."

"I am not miserable," said Buffy firmly. "Miserable is so last year. Besides, not so worried about the reputation thing. It's not like a bunch of fangy jokers are going to make me feel bad." She frowned. "Actually, Giles has sent me some stuff about other Slayers. Apparently there's a theory about how sex and death are two sides of the same coin. I don't really get it, but Giles says it applies to the killing vampires and being attracted to them thing I seem to have."

"Eros and thanatos." Spike leaned his chin on his hand with a thoughtful expression. "That makes sense. It's what existence is all about. Life pulling you one way -- to keep you going until you can reproduce. Death pulling you the other way -- so your offspring can take their turn. That's what's really wrong about vampires. Defeat the laws of nature on both counts. Even demons die and reproduce. But vampires just live on forever, barren and immortal."

"All except Angel, of course," said Buffy with a laugh. "He just had to be different and do both."

"Yeah, I heard about the snapper. I'm glad we didn't know that last winter. Never liked the sound of rubbers." Spike lifted an eyebrow at her. Then perhaps realising that he wasn't supposed to be flirting with her from under his dark cloud of shame, he added, "Those documents Giles sent you sound interesting. I wouldn't mind reading them. Purely academic interest, obviously. There are just some things I've always wondered about Slayers."

"They're good documents. Apparently, I'm not the first Slayer with a thing for vampires. But the others all got turned. So I'm just the first really lucky Slayer with a thing for..." Her voice trailed off as she remembered who she was speaking to. Mr 'Vampires get you hot'. "But even if it is a Slayer thing, I'm not interested in doing that again with any vampire. Especially not you. I-I just want that to be clear. I don't want a relationship with you. I mean, not the kind of thing we had before. Though if we could, the kind of thing we had before the before would be cool."

Spike's eyes lit up. God, how did he do that? "Before the before?"

"Well, the sort of after you wanting to kill me, and before us kinda bringing the house down. I-I mean now we're over the me being loopy, and you being... whatever. But just so it's clear. I mean, you know, with the looking jealous thing, and the kind of saying I missed you thing, and the forgiving the 'thing' thing." Buffy realised she was starting to babble. She really sucked at this expressing emotions thing. "Look, Spike, I don't want to confuse you. I'm all about clear, precise messages. I know what I want, and I won't change my mind. And the message is, well, I guess it's basically 'no sex'."

Spike looked more than a little disgusted. "Bloody hell, I should hope not. Way I treated you, I should become a bloody eunuch! Pretty much have. Not really into thinking about that sort of thing these days. Keep seeing you begging in my mind; makes me want to throw up."

"Oh." Buffy wasn't sure how to take all that. "Well, it wasn't exactly a high point for me either. I mean the begging bit. I don't normally do that. So probably best to put all that behind us. Okay?"

"Okay. I think." He smiled sheepishly. "I might have to wear the hair shirt occasionally, though."

"Deal," said Buffy with a teasing grin. "I'm sure Dawn and Xander would be more than happy to help you with the flagellation bit too."

Spike tilted his head and looked at her tenderly. "Do you know, I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had?"

"Hey, this is the All New Buffy," she declared with a wave of her hand. "Comes complete with conversation skills."

That made Spike laugh, and Buffy joined in, throwing her head back. When she straightened up again, Spike was looking at her with an expression that bordered on awe.

"I don't think I've ever seen you laugh like that before."

Maybe it was the way he said it, but Buffy felt a pang of regret. Regret for herself mainly, for the unhappy, emotionally stunted girl she had been for so long. But some regret for Spike too, because in her heart, she knew that despite all the ugliness, he had really wanted her to be happy too.

Spike looked across the road at the cinema. An usher had appeared in the ticket booth.

"Looks as if I'll be going in to see my film soon." He squinted at the sign. "Rather fancied myself as a type of Darth Vader back when the first film came out. Missed the others; thought it was all a bit nerdy. But I liked Darth Vader."

Buffy laughed at the idea of Spike as Darth Vader. "I had you down as more of a Han-- but you're absolutely right, Darth Vader is completely your type. Evil and all that." She raised her eyebrows in mock seriousness. "Plus, wears a lot of black."

"Exactly," said Spike, who happened to be wearing a blue shirt with his 'incognito' glasses in the front pocket. "I've always been big with the Dark Side... which back home in the UK would actually mean that I'm a poofter. But let's not get into that."

He grinned and Buffy smiled back. She hoped that the fact he had only seen one Star Wars movie meant he hadn't noticed her slip about Han Solo. It implied all sorts of things about redemption and lovableness that she really didn't want to be communicating to him right now. Or ever. No lovableness ever again.

On the other hand, even Darth Vader had redeemed himself after a fashion. Could a soulless vampire really be redeemed? Or was saving the woman in the alley just Angel-style atonement? But Angelus didn't care about atonement until he got cursed with the soul. Why would a soulless vampire want to atone? Buffy was getting a headache.

"Spike. What happened to you in Africa?"

He looked down at his half-filled cup and took a long time to answer. "The fact is, Buffy, I couldn't stand myself after what I did to you. The guilt just tore at me inside until I felt I would explode. It made me look at my life and realise I was worthless. A creature who belonged nowhere. Neither man nor beast. I couldn't go on living like that. I had to change. I had to pick a side once and for all."

Buffy's heart sank at his vehement tone. "What did you do?"

"Well, I went to Uganda," he said in a lighter tone. "See, there's this dem-- Oh shit!"

Spike was looking over her shoulder, his expression a mixture of irritation and resignation. Buffy turned to follow his gaze and her heart filled with dread.

"Spike!" exclaimed Xander, approaching them with outrage apparent in every word and gesture. "What the hell's going on?"

"You're making a scene, mate." Spike indicated an empty chair nearby. "Pull up a pew and listen to the little bedtime story I was about to tell Buffy."

"Like hell I will," spat out Xander. "I'm not interested in anything you say, you asshole. How can you even dare show your face around here after what you did?"

Buffy crossed her arms. "Why don't you shout a bit louder, Xander? I think those people over there haven't heard you."

"What the hell are you doing, Buffy? What is this: 'entertain your attempted rapist' night?" Xander jerked his thumb in Spike's direction. "Or is it just the return of that old favourite, 'Buffy the Vampire Layer'?"

Spike sprang out of his chair and punched Xander, knocking him into a row of empty tables. Xander tasted the blood on his split lip and stared at Spike in horror.

"You insult me, fine. But you do not insult Buffy!" shouted Spike.

Then as if he suddenly realised what he had done, Spike's eyes widened in surprise and shame. Buffy remembered the first time she had noticed that expression. The moment when, still shaken and in pain, sitting on her bathroom floor, she had realised that the soulless monster that had just run away was capable of remorse.

"Sorry, mate," said Spike. He extended his hand to Xander, who refused it. "Oh, sod this for a bleeding lark!" Too ashamed to even look at Buffy, Spike stormed out of the coffee shop.

Still wrapped up in her thoughts, Buffy barely noticed Xander coming to stand beside her.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed. "His chip isn't working!"

It was a grim meeting. Not much of a meeting, really. More like a sitting on the couch and looking miserable gathering. Xander, Dawn and Buffy. It was exactly like when Willow went evil. What was it with people going evil on her anyway? Buffy wondered if she had a special touch that turned people insane and made them want to kick every square inch of her ass.

"Lucky Giles did that deinvite spell last spring," said Dawn after a moment's silence.

Sitting on the coffee table, Xander shook his head. "Luck had nothing to do with it. It was obvious something like this would happen. I'm amazed Spike waited this long to come back and get his revenge."

"Maybe he couldn't get the chip out that quick," said Dawn.

"That makes sense. He didn't get it out in the two years he's had it. I guess there's not that many places that do chipectomies for evil vamps."

Dawn sighed. "Feels kinda like Angelus again. Wondering if he's going to come after us. Knowing that he's evil, but he knows us so well. And we don't even know where he is. If he left all his stuff at the crypt like you said, then I'm guessing he has stayed in town. Who knows what he might try to do?"

Buffy had been sitting back in the couch, playing with the buttons on her shirt while Dawn and Xander commiserated on their oft-predicted return of Evil Spike. But now she rolled her eyes and sat up straight.

"Right. I've had enough," she said with determination. "Enough with the sitting and the 'woe is me'. I'm going to take care of this."

Buffy went to get a stake from her weapons box. She stared at it for a moment, wavering as she remembered her last three encounters with Spike. Something was different, and she was pretty sure it wasn't the chip. He'd told her he didn't get the chip out; she'd believed him. He'd said he was sorry; she'd believed him. Spike had always been a bad liar; was he now adding outright lies to his crimes? And then there was the woman in the alley...

"Buffy, you don't have to be the one." Xander was standing right beside her. "I don't want you to go through the whole Angel thing again. Let me do it, even if you end up hating me for it."

He reached for the stake, and for a moment, Buffy was tempted to give it to him. Although Xander's chances of actually defeating an unchipped Spike were slim, she liked the idea of someone else dealing with the ex-boyfriend turned bad this time. But first, she needed to know what had happened. Something was not quite right.

"Thanks, Xander, but this isn't your problem," she said, heading for the door.

"What are you going to do?" asked Dawn.

"I'm going to find Spike and I'm going to talk to him," said Buffy, putting on her coat. "And if I have to, I'm going to kill him."

-3-

Buffy crouched in the shadow, perfectly still. This was her least favourite part of being a hunter: waiting for her prey to appear so she could leap out at it and deliver the death blow. The leaping out was fun; the waiting sucked.

Several minutes passed before she heard footsteps down the alley and the faint mewling of young kittens. Hidden behind a dumpster, Buffy primed herself. When she judged the prey was close enough, she sprang out.

"Slayer!" exclaimed Clem, dropping his cat carrier. Kittens crawled out and started to scatter.

"Clem. I've been looking for you for days!"

The demon picked up the last two kittens left in the basket, one tabby and one calico. "You-- You want me to give the kittens back?"

"No, I want Spike." Buffy rolled her eyes. "I mean, I want to know where he is. And where have you been anyway?"

"Spike said you'd be mad, so I stayed with Mom a couple of days. I'm not really into mad Slayers." Clem clutched the kittens to his chest and looked at her fearfully.

Buffy raised an appeasing hand. "Look, Clem, I'm not mad at you. I just want to know where Spike is. I need to talk to him."

"He--he's left town," said Clem, though he was about as convincing a liar as Spike at his worst.

"Clem..." said Buffy, trying not to sound too threatening, but just threatening enough to get an answer out of him.

"You're gonna hit me if I don't tell, aren't you?" said Clem in a tremulous voice. "I'm not Spike, I can't stand pain."

Buffy's heart sank. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know. You hang out with a guy, you kind of notice the bruises." Clem's eyes widened and he took a step back. "Not that I think there's anything wrong with-- I mean, if that's how vampires like it. But personally..."

Buffy closed her eyes. Of course Clem knew. "Great. I'm gonna go down in history as Buffy the Batterer, the Slayer with a vampire fetish! I am so wishing Willow hadn't brought me back, you know. I mean, not really, because I'm happy to be alive now. But the not being happy made me into a really bad person last year." She pointed at Clem. "Let me tell you something, resurrection might seem like a good idea sometimes, but you just never live it down."

"I know," said Clem, his wrinkled face full of sympathy. "I had this cousin once, got resurrected by a kooky shaman. Not like the demon Spi--"

"Yes, Spike!" exclaimed Buffy, eager to change the subject. "Clem, just tell me where he is already."

"He's with Bresg," Clem blurted out. "Oh, he's going to be so mad when he finds out I told you."

"Can't be worse than Buffy the Batterer," said Buffy dejectedly. "Who's Bresg and why is Spike with...them?"

The tabby kitten had clawed its way onto Clem's shoulder. He stroked it absent-mindedly, while still holding the calico to his chest.

"Bresg is a Ktralke demon. She and Spike apparently had a major deal a while back that Spike kinda screwed up. I'm sure it wasn't his fault, but now Spike has to pay the damages."

"A major deal?" Buffy grimaced. "Please tell me this had nothing to do with Suvolte demon eggs."

"This had nothing to do with Suvolte demon eggs," parroted Clem. He looked puzzled. "Actually, now you come to mention it..."

"Never mind! Just tell me where they are."

Clem used his free hand to scratch his head. The calico in his other hand had fallen asleep. The tabby was batting at his ear.

"Probably in Bresg's lair," said Clem. "I saw Spike last night, and he said Bresg wanted him to service her to pay off his debt."

"Service her how?" Buffy wrinkled her nose as a thought came to mind. "No, scratch that question. I really don't want to know. Just point me in the direction of this lair."

It was late afternoon the next day when Buffy finally made enough sense of Clem's muddled instructions to find Bresg's lair. According to the demon bestiary Giles had left behind, Ktralke demons needed to stay in cool, humid areas, and were therefore very rarely seen out of their dens during the day in warm climates. Buffy was really proud of herself for actually doing the research. With this useful information in mind, she hoped she would find both Bresg and Spike at the lair.

The lair was in a cave not far from Kingman's Buff. It felt strange to be tracking a nasty in the daytime. Buffy usually confronted them when they came out at night. Fighting demons in hand to hand combat was a lot more fun than killing them in their sleep.

As she made her way through the trees and bushes, Buffy thought about what she would say to Spike when she saw him. She'd assured Xander and Dawn that she would be tough and stake Spike if he didn't have a good explanation. But it wasn't that simple. Even after he had attacked her, she hadn't wanted him dead. Not because she loved him -- of course not! -- but because he was someone she knew well. You just didn't go around killing people you knew, even if they were vampires. If Spike had got the chip out, perhaps she could convince him to leave town. That would be okay. Best solution for everyone. Worked for Dru and Harmony.

Buffy was nearing the open when she saw someone coming towards her in the bright sunlight. A thin man with curly brown hair, carrying a plastic bag and wearing a white sports jersey streaked with blood. She knew who she was seeing, but this didn't make sense.

"Spike?" said Buffy, her voice barely above a whisper.

As he came closer, she could see him clearly. He was unshaven, and there were bits of demon goo on his hands and shirt. His face was cut and bruised, his eyes red and his lips dry; a startling combination of the effects of Glory, Buffy and the Initiative all in one. Buffy moved towards him, paying no attention when a thorn scratched her bare arm.

"Spike!"

Spike turned towards her, squinting in the sunshine. When he realised who it was, he brushed his hair back and straightened up, making a visible effort to be dignified despite his injuries. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, and as she approached him, Buffy realised that his nose was running. Which was pretty icky. But nothing compared to what else she had just realised.

"Oh God," she breathed. "Oh, my God, Spike. You're human!"

Spike seemed about to protest, but then he looked up at the sun, and coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his arm. He gave Buffy a half-hearted smile.

"Well, that explains a few things." His voice was strained and hoarse. He sighed. "It's a fair cop, pet. You've got me: I'm not a vampire anymore."

Buffy didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or burst into tears. Unable to decide, she walked over to him and slapped him on the arm instead.

"You bastard son of a bitch! Do you know how worried I've been, looking for you everywhere, thinking you'd gone all Angelus on me, when all the time you were human? You bastard!" She slapped his arm again. "Why the hell didn't you just tell me instead of letting me think you'd gone evil?"

"Ow! What do you mean gone evil?" said Spike, rubbing his arm and stepping away from her. "I thought you thought I was evil. You know, soulless thing and all that. Besides, I didn't want this to change anything." He sneezed loudly.

"Gesundheit. What do you mean, you didn't want this to change anything? This changes everything, Spike. You're human, you have a soul." She frowned. "You do have a soul, right?"

Spike grunted affirmatively as he wiped his nose. "Complete package, pet. Soul, mortality, vulnerability, and the strength of a newt. You name it, I've got it. Plus some kind of disease as an added bonus. Knowing my luck, it's probably fatal." He sneezed violently, then started coughing. "No, actually, knowing my luck it probably isn't fatal, just something that makes you into an invalid for the rest of your life. Like malaria. Do you think I have malaria?"

"It's probably just a cold," said Buffy. She stared at him. "Spike, what happened to you?"

"Oh. I owed Bresg some money, right, so she wanted me to do some stuff for her. Only she didn't realise I was human. She got a bit pissed off when she found out; roughed me up and dumped me in a puddle in her cave." He frowned. "Must be when I got sick. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I knocked her out and took her money. Which isn't a bad day's work." He gave Buffy a wan smile.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, Spike. How did you become human?"

Spike was silent for a while, observing Buffy with his head tilted to one side, a sad, uncertain expression on his face.

"I can't do this right now," he said finally. His voice was slurred and tired, as if whatever boost her presence had given him was wearing off. "I think something's wrong with my brain. I-I'll write to you or something." Spike rooted around in the plastic bag and pulled out some cash. "Do you want some money? It's all the product of Bresg's criminal activities, so it's not like you have to give it back. Take it. Consider it... I don't know, reparations or something. Then I'll just go away and leave you alone."

Spike emphasized his point by sneezing. With both hands occupied, he was unable to cover his face. Buffy grimaced and wiped at her front with an exaggerated gesture.

"Thanks, Spike. I've always wanted to be covered in snot." She took the money and put it back in the bag. "There really is something wrong with your brain, isn't there! You do know taking the product of crime is still wrong, right? I mean now you have the soul, you should know these things."

Spike looked down at the bag with confusion. "Never mind," he muttered. "Why do I bloody bother?" He started coughing, his thin body shaking with the fit as he walked away.

Buffy followed him. "Spike, you really don't look well."

"I'll be all--" Spike sneezed. "Fine. I'm fine. Couple of days in a damp cave wasn't a good idea, but I'll be fine." He turned away again.

"Where are you going?" Buffy grabbed his arm to stop him. "You can't stay in the crypt in that state. I mean, you're all sneezy and coughy." She put her hand on his forehead. "Oh, my God, Spike, you have a temperature!"

"Well, yeah, I'm alive. I'm supposed to be--"

"A fever temperature!" She looked at the wounds on his chest and face. "And if you're human, those wounds are gonna need treating."

Her concern seemed to undermine his determination. Spike's shoulders slumped; he now looked as if he was about to collapse. "Yeah, I'm having a gay old time being human." He squinted at Buffy. "I really need glasses, too."

"Yeah, you should have seen that demon of yours coming a--"

"No, I mean that literally. I need my glasses. Left them at the crypt like the bleeding ponce I am. Couldn't see what Bresg was up to until it was too late." Spike blinked and swayed, before sitting heavily on a nearby rock. He coughed again, making no effort to cover his mouth. Maybe being a vampire for a century or so had made him forget the human tradition of keeping a cold to himself. "God, I feel awful. It'd be just my luck to get this far and die of pneumonia!"

Buffy considered the options. Take him to a hospital and try to explain how he got in this state? Not good, especially with Spike also covered in demon gloop. Take him to Xander's? Bad idea. Xander had never really accepted Angel's innocence after the Angelus incident. There was no reason to think he'd be more amenable to Spike after what had happened the previous spring.

Buffy took Spike's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, we're gonna pick up your glasses at your crypt, then I'm taking you home."

"Buffy... are you sure about this?"

She had already gone up two steps on the stairs, but Buffy turned back towards Spike. He was standing in the doorway, clutching the bag of money to his chest, and looking forlorn and frightened. He seemed very small without all the trappings of his vampire days, and the brown hair and ugly glasses, coupled with his miserable expression, gave him a mousy air which Buffy found disturbing. She'd sometimes wished Spike could be less of a swaggering thug, but his current demeanour made her think 'swaggering thug' wasn't such a bad look after all.

"I don't think this is a good idea," continued Spike. "What will Dawn--"

"Don't worry. Dawn is at Janice's," said Buffy. She took Spike's arm and pulled him towards the stairs. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"Buffy, are you sure about this?" repeated Spike, resisting the move. "I-I mean me and you alone." He turned towards the door. "Look, I'll go to a hospital, it's okay." He was about to walk out, but his resolve wavered when another coughing fit wracked his body.

Buffy shut the door and put a reassuring hand on his back. "Spike, don't worry. I'm going to take care of you. Now come upstairs."

"Upstairs where?" said Spike, his blue eyes full of fear and apprehension.

Okay. She hadn't actually thought of that. Complete mind block about the whole bathroom thing. Because, her bathroom. Spent the whole summer bathing and showering and peeing and brushing her teeth in there. Not evil or bad or anything to do with the Spike assaulting her thing.

Buffy stared at Spike. Hard to believe it was the same guy. Same face, same hands, same accent. Little bits of old Spike underneath the hair shirt and the beating heart. But the beating heart made all the difference.

"Spike. We've been through this. You did a bad thing and I forgive you. And this you being human thing is amazing! It changes everything." Buffy realised that Spike didn't look convinced. Explanations weren't her thing anyway. "Okay, just get your ass upstairs so I can tend to your injuries!"

Buffy grabbed his arm again and dragged him up the stairs. When they reached the bathroom, Spike collapsed on the lowered toilet lid and looked around with a miserable expression on his face. He was doing a good beaten dog impression, with his unhappy countenance further emphasised by his watery red eyes and bruised cheekbones.

"Kept seeing this room," he said. "In my dreams. Couldn't work out if it was really like this or if I was getting it mixed up with the Initiative."

"Mom redecorated most of the other rooms with flowered wallpaper and stuff," said Buffy, hoping that some inane chatter about home decoration would dispel Spike's discomfort. "But she left the bathroom as it was, because it doesn't really matter what a bathroom looks like as long as it's clean, right?" Chatter didn't seem to help; Spike was staring at the bathmat. Buffy opened the cupboard under the sink. "Okay, bandages, disinfectant, thermometer..." A couple of blue boxes fell out. "...a life time's supply of tampons. Amazing how they pile up when there are four wo--" Okay, so tampon build-up wasn't that funny considering why two of the four women were gone.

Spike wasn't listening anyway. "You didn't even repair the shower curtain."

So that was when the shower curtain...oh no, flashback. She was clutching at the curtain, tearing it as Spike pulled her down. Buffy looked at the tear in the curtain and shook her head. That was then and this was now, and right now, Spike was in no condition to be pulling her anywhere.

"Oh, you know me: not big with the fixing things," said Buffy lightly. She bundled up her medical supplies and went over to crouch by Spike's side. "But at least I can make you better." She wrinkled her nose. "Um, do you want to take a shower first? You really don't smell too good. Or you could have a bath! Mom always said a hot bath was the best thing for a bad flu."

Spike looked at her as if she had just suggested a walk in the sun. Which would have been a great metaphor if he'd still been a vampire. Buffy stared at him. He really didn't look as if he wanted to get naked in the bathroom right now.

"Okay..." she said slowly. "We'll deal with the whole personal hygiene thing later. Just get the gloop off." She pulled him to his feet and led him to the sink.

Spike stared at himself in the mirror for a while. Maybe he was taking in his thin, haggard face, half obscured by the long hair, three-day beard, and large glasses.

"Must be quite a shock, huh?" said Buffy. "Seeing yourself in the mirror, I mean."

"Never thought I'd have to look myself in the eyes again."

Remembering why she'd put him there, Spike coughed and pulled his bloody jersey off. He used a facecloth to wipe the pink goo away. Buffy stood behind him and watched his reflection. She noticed a healed burn scar over his heart, and there were some other recent cuts and bruises which needed care. When he had cleaned himself up, Spike went back to sit on the toilet lid. He picked up the disinfectant as if he was going to tend to his wounds himself, but Buffy stopped him.

"Hey. Expert nurse here," she said, making with the chirpy because Spike was looking so gloomy. "I'm great at caring for people!" She decided not to remind him that the people she had cared for were mainly Angel and Riley.

Buffy could feel Spike's heartbeat throbbing against her hand as she dabbed disinfectant on his cuts. Humanity was something she had often dreamed of for Angel, but it had never occurred to her that it might happen to Spike. No wonder he was so unhappy and apologetic. Considering the weight of the soul, she was amazed that Spike was capable of coherent conversation at all. Angel hadn't been so lucid when Willow resouled him... though admittedly, he had also been recovering from a few hundred years in a hell dimension.

Spike sat still, staring down at his lap, while Buffy tended to him. He obediently blew his nose when she handed him a length of toilet tissue, then opened his mouth when she decided to take his temperature. While Buffy was waiting for the thermometer to register, though, Spike raised his eyes to her face. He took the cotton from Buffy's hand and dabbed at the scratch the thorns had left on her arm.

"I'm fine, Spike. Don't worry. Slayer, remember?" Buffy put her hand on his and drew it away. "Whereas you're all covered in--"

She stopped and smiled as the phrase "sexy wounds" suggested itself. But then, looking at his bruised face, Buffy felt a painful twist in her stomach. The black eyes and swollen lips were a familiar sight by now. Spike had quite a habit of getting beaten up by crazy, evil women.

"I'm sorry I didn't do this before, when I hurt you," she said, gently rubbing ointment onto his bruises.

Spike drew back and tried to speak, then rolled his eyes with a sheepish smile when he realised he couldn't because of the thermometer. Amused by the expression, Buffy stroked his cheek, before realising what she was doing and hastily withdrawing her hand. Spike might be human now, but that didn't mean anything had changed as far as their relationship was concerned. The beating heart she felt under his soft, warm skin didn't make things any less complicated. This was nothing to get excited about.

Spike stood slouched against the wall while Buffy made up the double bed. It felt strange to be putting someone in the master bedroom again; she and Dawn had left it largely untouched ever since Anya and Giles had packed for Willow. The morgue cleaners had shampooed the carpet and removed all the blood stains, and the window had been replaced. But it still felt strange. However, there was no way Buffy could let Spike sleep in a crypt with a high fever.

"Did your Mum die in here?"

Still tucking the undersheet beneath the mattress, Buffy looked up at him. "No, she died downstairs. Tara--" Maybe best not to go there. Spike probably had enough ghosts to deal with. "--Tara and Willow lived in here. We haven't been using it since they...left."

"Right." Spike looked confused. "You're really not concerned about having me here? Seems a bit dangerous, having the chap who tried to rape you within easy reach. How do you know I won't slip into your room? I might be human, but I'm still me. Who knows what I'm capable of?"

"Spike, an anaemic sparrow would be a bigger threat to me than you are right now. Besides, I do have a lock on my door." Buffy spread out the top cover and tossed a pillow at the head of the bed. "Right. Get in there. Take an aspirin every four hours." She pointed at the box she'd left on the bedside table. "We're all out of tissues, so use the toilet roll if your nose is running. I'll get you some cough medicine tomorrow if I can. If you need anything during the night, you know where I am."

Spike didn't move as Buffy walked past him. She had reached the door when he spoke again.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asked, his tone aggressive. "It's because I'm human, isn't it? You didn't give a flying fig about me when I was a vampire, but now I have a beating heart, you turn into Florence blimming Nightingale!"

Wounded by his insinuation, Buffy spun around, tempted to hit Spike for being so rude when she was trying to help. He flinched, and Buffy took a step back, distressed by the momentary fear on his face. It was obvious his words were the result of his fever; nothing to get angry about. Besides, Mature Buffy didn't hit people in anger. She counted to ten to calm herself, then looked Spike in the eye.

"You know it's not like that," she said quietly. "I forgave you before I knew you were human, remember? And I meant what I said about wanting what we had before we slept together. Whether you're a vampire or a human, I-I just want us to be friends."

"Friends?" Spike frowned, as if he was going to contest that notion. But then his expression softened and he sat on the bed. "Yeah. Of course we can be friends."

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