Spike put his left foot out in front of him to steady himself as he leant into the wind. Outstretching his arms and splaying his fingers, he revelled in the way the gale cut through his clothing and tried to chill his flesh. It only served to make him grin cockily. Closing his eyes, he let the howl of the storm drown out all sound as he stood firm on top of the tomb.

"Spike…" Buffy shouted up at him, but the wind caught her voice and carried it away.

Squinting and bracing herself against the wind, she took a laboured step forward and narrowly avoided being whipped by his coat as it danced about in the gale. Edging around the tomb, she looked back up at Spike, who was standing like he was on a cross with a look of sheer elation on his face. She smiled and shook her head at how much pleasure he could get out of something so simple as the wind pushing against him--challenging him. Suddenly his face turned to one of disgust and a heavy frown knit his brows.

"What the…" Wiping his cheek with his hand, Spike looked at it with sheer repulsion--it was covered in a clear jelly like substance.

"What?" Buffy called up to him and this time he heard her.

Hopping down from the tomb, he held his hand out for her to inspect.

Spike couldn't help but tilt his head as he watched her pretty nose wrinkle up at the sight of the slime coating his fingers.

"Some bugger thinks it's funny to go sliming…" He was cut off by the wet slapping noise of slime hitting Buffy's leather jacket.

Buffy looked at the arm of her coat and then accusingly at Spike, whose slime was still on his fingers, and he hadn't moved a muscle. Frowning, she scanned the cemetery and spotted their assailant--a 6ft tall overly muscular demon that was dripping goo as it walked toward them.

"Demons are so gross." Buffy wiped the slime off her jacket and tried to ignore the hurt look that crossed Spike's face.

Slipping her coat off she placed it over the top of a headstone before getting into a fighting stance. She hesitated as the slimy demon continued toward her.

Spike looked over at Buffy as she just stared at the demon, a pensive look on her face. He couldn't blame her for having second thoughts about launching an attack; he wasn't exactly enjoying the prospect of getting completely coated in the cold sticky substance that was on his fingers.

"You really sure we want to do this?" Spike asked her as she took several deep breaths that he recognised as a precursor to her attacking.

"No…we aren't doing anything. I'm doing this." Buffy replied flatly and kept her eyes fixed on the demon, avoiding Spike's hard look at all costs.

"It's always me, me, me with you, Summers. You think I'm going to bloody well let you tackle that thing alone, you've got another thing coming, missy. Besides, this is my sodding cemetery and it's not your bloody place to tell me what I can and cannot fight. It's not like we're going out, you're not my damn girlfriend…you're not even a sodding friend." Spike growled as he turned to face her, his exasperation evident in the tone of his voice and every word he spoke.

Buffy visibly cringed as he shouted at her over the wind. She knew from the number of swear words in his speech and the way she could clearly see his jaw muscles that she'd touched a raw nerve and amazingly, she felt bad about it.

Since she had come back from the dead, Spike had offered her comfort with no questions asked and now she'd taken the friendship he given her and thrown it back in his face.

Only he'd turned around and thrown it right back at her.

Whoever said that the truth hurts was right.

Buffy felt like she was being split in two by it. Part of her wanting to admit that she wanted him to fight alongside her, that she needed him in this fight.

That she needed him, period.

The other part was telling her to ignore him, just get on with the fight with the goo monster and let him do his own thing. In a day or two, he would have forgotten about this and he'd welcome her back with open arms.

Something about that thought stuck in her throat.

A feeling of discomfort settled in her stomach and squirmed there.

She'd done this far too often.

She'd thrown hell, heaven and high water at him and he'd borne it all. He'd taken every insult, every jibe and every harsh word, and he'd let her come back to him with her problems every time--never once mentioning what she'd said to him.

To hurt him.

To push him away.

So she didn't have to face her feelings for a little while longer.

But each time she had pushed him away, she'd gone back to him and now it had dawned on her that she actually liked patrolling with him--that was why she was here now. She liked being able to sit with him in silence, or talk to him about whatever was on her mind.

She liked the fact that he listened without judging her and when she was done, he offered her all the reassuring words she would let him.

She loved the comfort he gave her.

"Fine." Buffy said with false resignation and out the corner of her eye, she caught sight of him smiling--it stirred warmth in her stomach reminiscent of an inferno. She'd never made him smile before. "Just don't get in the way."

Spike nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it, love."

Buffy was about to turn her attention back to the demon when she felt something cold and sticky grab hold of her. She squealed as she was lifted from the floor and her legs dangled helplessly.

It took Spike a moment to realise what was happening, but the second it got through to him, he punched the demon square across the jaw--only it was deflected by the slime and slid harmlessly off Buffy's attacker and hit her instead.

"Gee…thanks." Buffy muttered through a face full of slime and wriggled hard. As she began to slip from the demons embrace, she landed a solid kick at the juncture of its thighs and grinned as it let go of her.

Spike winced as he watched the demon grab at its crotch and make a small bubbling noise that he figured must have been a cry of pain because the next second it had launched itself ferociously at the Slayer. Grabbing hold of the monsters arm, Spike struggled to keep a grip on it as he tried to pull it away from Buffy.

Buffy punched it hard in the chest, pulling a face of disgust as she started pummelling it as quickly as she could. Almost every punch that she landed slid off the demons slimy body and she didn't want to look at her hands--she could feel they were coated in the clear jelly-like substance.

Spike wrapped his arm around the demons neck as he leaped onto its back and tried to contain it. He grinned as it made a choking noise and saw Buffy roll her eyes over how much he was enjoying it. Just as he was about to make a comment, he was thrown to the floor.

Buffy looked down at the slime-covered form of Spike on the floor.

"Gross much?" She stated and Spike looked sickened as he gazed down the length of his body--his precious leather duster slimed beyond recognition.

The next thing Buffy knew was a sharp pain as her shoulder smashed against a head stone. She grabbed hold of her arm tightly in an attempt to ease the pain, but it began to throb so hard that her whole body felt like it was pulsing with intense heat.

Spike scrambled to his feet only to be thrown roughly against a tomb. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and then growled as he saw the demon advancing on him. Leaping to his feet, Spike punched the slimy monster hard in stomach and then grunted in pain as it grabbed hold of his head and smashed it against the tomb.

Through the throbbing in her body, Buffy watched as the demon continued to smash Spike's head against the solid stone wall, never relinquishing its vice like grip on the vampire. Something about it enraged Buffy and gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up and stumbled towards the demon as it flung Spike to the ground like he was a rag doll and then turned to face her.

Buffy plunged the stake into its shoulder as deeply as she could and then yelped in pain as she was thrown roughly to the floor next to a semi-conscious Spike.

As the demon pulled the stake out of its chest, it made a low bubbling noise and regarded the weapon for a moment before throwing it at her.

Buffy dodged the weapon and then looked up as she held onto her shoulder.

"Wound for a wound." She spat at the demon and then quickly covered her face with her arm as it made a snorting, wheezing noise and shot slime all over her and Spike.

As the cold slime slid down his face, Spike groaned and Buffy looked over at him. She reached out and wiped the jelly from his face, scooping it out from around his eyes and flicking it to the floor.

"You okay?" She asked as he slowly opened his eyes and moaned.

"What happened?" Spike gave her a confused look as he found a slime coated Buffy watching him.

"One second it's throwing my stake at me, the next minute it's blowing slime at us. Wait…eww…did that thing just sneeze on us?" Buffy wrinkled her nose up in distaste as she looked in the direction the demon had made off in.

"Bloody well looks like it." Spike muttered as he propped himself up onto his elbows and then shut his eyes tightly as pain made his head spin.

Buffy let concern briefly show in her eyes as Spike clutched his head and breathed out sharply through his nose.

"You alright?"

Spike gave himself a moment for her words to etch themselves on his memory and then opened one eye and looked at her.

"You think this is where Angel gets his hair gel from?" He waited tentatively for her to say something, but her expression remained stony.

It started out as a small giggle that seemed to escape her lips no matter how hard she tried to contain it and before she knew what she was really doing, she was laughing.

And it felt good.

Spike grinned and chuckled along with her.

He'd never thought he'd hear her laughing at a joke made about Angel, but there she was, covered in slime and laughing so hard that he could practically see her tonsils.

Gathering herself, Buffy looked down at the pile of ooze they were sitting in and pulled another face of disgust. The slime had been bad enough when cold, but now it was warming through from her body heat it felt as though it was starting to set. She could almost feel it stiffening against her skin.

"Think we should get cleaned up." Buffy mumbled as she sat up.

Spike nodded in agreement and scrambled to his knees. "You think we should tell Giles about the Slimy-what-his-face?"

"Yeah…oh…we can't. He's out, gone on some retreat to find himself or something." She tried to wipe some of the globs of slime off her clothes and then giggled. "We could make a sport out of this. Slime wrestling…could make a fortune."

Spike chuckled as he tried to steady himself. "Willy would probably pay for it…"

With each movement Buffy made, she became increasingly aware of just how much mucus covered her body; she could feel it oozing down her skin. Looking at Spike as he held a hand out to her, she tried not to laugh. He was plastered head to toe with the clear jelly and even though he was doing a fine job of not looking bothered by it clinging to his skin and his leather duster, she could see that he wanted revenge as badly as she did.

Taking hold of Spike's arms, she tried to find her footing in amongst the slime. They stood slowly, their grips on each other tightening as they tried to maintain their balance on the slippery ground.

Spike tried to remain standing as Buffy slipped, but not even vampire agility could save him as she yanked down on his arms. Falling face first into the muddy slime, he growled as Buffy erupted in laughter.

"Sorry…it's just…what a night." She giggled as she got onto her hands and knees and slowly eased her way to where he was laying in the mucus. Gritting her teeth, she took hold of his shoulders and pulled him up off the ground.

Her eyes widened as she saw the right side of his head clearly for the first time.

"Jesus…" Buffy breathed as her eyes roamed over the blood that seemed to cake the whole side of his head. It had seeped into his hair and mixed with the slime, making it look like cranberry jelly. "Christ…what did that thing do to you?"

Spike hadn't been bothered by the damage done to the side of his face until Buffy had become suddenly, and uncharacteristically concerned. He raised himself to his knees and then tentatively touched the side of his head. Bringing his fingers away, he frowned down at the red slime clinging to them.

Buffy grabbed the hem of her top. "Keep still."

Before he could question what she was doing, she was using the bottom of her top to clean the side of his head. She carefully wiped all the mucus from it, trying not to disturb the grazes and long scrapes that marred his skin. She shut out the small voice at the back of her mind that said she was slipping; she was showing feelings towards Spike when she should be letting him take care of himself.

Spike closed his eyes as he concentrated on the gentle sweeps of cloth against his skin. He breathed deeply, keeping himself under control as he listened to the sound of her heart beating hard against her chest and her soft breathing.

Something had changed.

She'd been close before, close enough that she would let him reach out to her and talk about things.

But she'd never been so close.

So attainable.

If he just reached out a little more, stretched a little further than he'd allowed himself to previously, he knew he could touch her.

As she stopped cleaning his face, he opened his eyes and stared at his knees. He quickly realised that she was crawling away from him, all he could see was her backside wiggling side to side as she moved towards the clean grass. Following her lead, Spike crawled onto the slime free ground and stood up.

Buffy raised her brows as she looked at him and she could tell from the amused look in his eyes that she was just as slimed as he was.

"We really need to get clean…I think this stuff is starting to…ow…" Buffy grimaced as her shoulder ground in its socket and she grabbed hold of it.

"Ow?" Spike cocked his head to one side and walked over to her, concern evident on his face as he looked at her shoulder. "Looks pretty nasty, love…"

She craned her neck to the side and tried to look at her shoulder; from what she could see, it was as grazed as Spike's face.

Buffy almost jumped as Spike's hand appeared in view and he wiped the slime off her shoulder. He'd never touched her anywhere other than her hands since she'd come back and his fingers seemed to set her skin on fire as they brushed against her, removing the mucus and revealing the cuts underneath.

Pulling his duster off, Spike took off his red shirt and used it to clean the cut on Buffy's shoulder. He frowned in concentration as tended to her and tried to ignore the worry that had settled in his stomach.

They needed to find out what this demon was and if there were any side effects to the mucus. By now it would be in both their systems, and where he was sure he would be immune, he couldn't say the same for Buffy.

"What?" Buffy said as she caught the anxious look in his eyes.

"We need to find out what this demon is, get you cleaned up and get some antiseptic on that." He nodded at the cut and she suddenly looked worried.

"You don't think…I mean…it's just slime…it wouldn't be toxic…it couldn't." Buffy tried to hide the panic that was welling up inside her but it was clear from the gentle look on his face that he'd seen it.

"It could…" He said in a soft voice that he hoped would reassure her as he struggled against the tidal wave of fear that was threatening to overwhelm him. "But I'm buggered if I'm going to let you…you know."

Buffy nodded.

She knew he'd never let her go again. He saw her return as a blessing, a second chance and now he was never going to let her get hurt--he'd always be there for her, protecting her.

"Let's get you home." Spike wrapped his leather duster around her shoulders as she cleaned the slime off her face.

Grabbing her jacket off the headstone she'd placed it on, they started out of the cemetery and back to her house.

Buffy didn't complain when his arm lingered around her, the sensation of it against her body seemed to alleviate the weight of worry in her stomach and she found herself leaning into him.

The walk back to her house was a silent one and even with Spike's arm never leaving her, she still couldn't stop her anxiety from increasing with each step.

As they reached her front door, she pushed it open and called out to her sister. When no reply came, she remembered that Dawn was staying the night at Janice's and she was silently thankful. She moved straight across the room to the stack of books that were sitting on top of her weapons chest.

Spike caught hold of the book as she went to pick it up and he took it away from her.

Buffy turned to look at him with a confused expression and he looked toward the stairs.

"Go, get showered, love…clean up, scrub if you have to…just get that bloody stuff off you."

She stood silent for a moment, fighting an internal battle against reason as she looked at him.

Everything seemed to have changed in such a short space of time. A small admittance that she was treating him wrong had upset her world of denial, it had broken the floodgates and it seemed like all her feelings were crashing in around her.

Engulfing her

Until she felt as though she was drowning in them.

"What about you?"

Her question was asked in such a curious and childlike tone that he had to smile and look at himself. She was right, he was a complete mess but right now, his primary concern was her.

"Don't worry about me, sort yourself out." He turned her around and pushed her toward the stairs but she looked back at him, a smile fleeting across her lips.

"You can shower second."

And with that she disappeared upstairs and he was left staring down at the book on demons he was holding tightly in his hands.

He could shower second.

She was suddenly so comfortable around him, not only allowing him to touch her, but offering him home comforts, too. It had taken one solitary outburst from himself to hit her the hardest. All the blows they had exchanged over the years hadn't done as much damage as a handful of words.

They hadn't even been carefully chosen.

It had been a spur of the moment outpour of his pent up feelings about what was happening between them and for once she'd listened.

Buffy had actually listened. She'd taken in every single word and it had clearly changed her.

Released her.

He sighed heavily and looked at the chair and then at himself.

Something clicked.

He could shower, but he didn't have anything to wear.

Buffy walked down the stairs to find Spike standing in exactly the same spot she had left him. She rubbed the towel against her wet hair and let her eyes trace the outline of his body as he stood straight as a statue on her living room rug.

"Find anything?" She tried to hide the hope in her voice, something about the calm look on his face told her she was safe but she needed to hear him say it--needed to hear his dulcet tones soothing away the hurt again.

"Grak'schul." Spike said as he stared intently at the open book in his hands.

"That the name of Mr Slimy?" She asked as she moved to look over his shoulder at the page, getting as close to him as possible while not getting slimed.

"Yep. Your regular, non-toxic slime demon." He grinned and handed her the book, the look of relief on her face made his smile widen.

"Thank god…" Buffy sighed and then frowned as she realised she had just put her hands in slime that had been left on the cover by Spike. "You want the shower?"

"Slight problem…no clothes." He shrugged as she cocked her head to one side and assessed what he was wearing.

"No problem. I'll clean them with mine, they'll be dry by the time we're done researching Mr Slimy." She said breezily as she put the book down on the table. "Now, shower, mister. Just leave the clothes on the vanity with my ones and I'll grab them while you're getting clean."

Spike carefully peeled the sodden clothes off his body. He was more interested with being in Buffy's bathroom than having a shower. Taking in his surroundings, he placed his clothes down piece by piece on the small vanity unit like she'd instructed him to and started his investigation.

He opened cupboards, savoured the smell of her perfume and smiled amusedly at the small rubber duck that was sitting on the rim of her bath.

It felt like he'd stumbled into Buffy's inner sanctum. The place where she was just the girl, not the Slayer or the heroine, just the woman she hid deep inside.

He arched a brow at the sight of her clothes next to his on the vanity. Deftly rummaging through them, he grinned as he extracted her panties from the slimy mess and held them up.

Spike gave them a curious look. In the long years of his existence, he'd never seen anything so small--they were barely worth wearing.

His thoughts got stuck on that word.

Wearing.

She'd been wearing these up until a few moments ago, had been fighting along side him in them against the slimy demon and he couldn't stop his body from reacting. He shifted uncomfortably on the tiled floor as he looked down at his crotch.

"Not now." Spike hissed at it but the feeling of her lacy string against his fingers and the lingering scent that permeated the air was making control slip through his grasp.

Ramming the panties back into the pile of clothing, he frowned at it and took a deep breath, trying to claw back some modicum of control.

Turning the shower on as his body began to relax, he stared briefly at the mirror above the vanity and held his hand out to it, touching the cold glass and frowning at the absence of a reflection.

It was something he'd never got used to.

It made him feel like he didn't exist.

He suddenly felt empty inside, cold and dead like he was.

Taking one of the small peach-coloured hand towels, he draped it over the mirror and glared at it.

He did exist.

He did.

And she made him feel like it more than anything else, with one look in his direction she could let him know that she really saw him, and saw what she meant to him.

Stepping into the shower, he methodically cleansed himself of slime by starting at the top and working his way down the length of his body. He winced as he ran his head under the jet of water and the heat of it stung the cuts that ran across the side of his face and into his hair.

The sound of the door easing open made him halt his breathing.

He could hear her heartbeat; it was pounding hard and fast against her ribs and playing out a pretty melody that had him instinctively slipping into hunt mode. He couldn't stop himself as he focused on her as she shifted around the bathroom, probably gathering their clothes.

He closed his eyes as he heard her footsteps stop and he wondered what she was thinking.

Buffy cocked her head to one side as she looked at the towel-covered mirror.

For some reason it seemed to hit something home about Spike that she'd never thought she'd find herself thinking.

He really was a man with a demon co-inhabiting his body, and not the other way around.

He could deal with everything about himself, the blood, the violence, the darkness, the death, but he couldn't deal with this one thing.

Lack of reflection.

She pondered it as she looked at the mirror.

What would she feel like to know she was there, but not there? Did it make him feel as though he only half existed? Like he was a shadow walking between two worlds but belonging to neither? Did a century or more of existence get wiped away the moment he saw no reflection looking back?

Her reflection had made her feel comforted when she'd come back. It had let her know she was really there and she had felt better for seeing it. It gave her a sense of reality, a sense of existence because she could see her reflection.

A sense that she wasn't alone.

She was right there in the mirror whenever she needed someone.

Spike didn't have that.

She realised that the movement in the shower had stopped and reaching out her senses, she could feel his focus on her intensely in her stomach.

She froze as it dawned on her that Spike was naked, in her shower, with his vampiric senses honed in on her.

Her stomach flipped.

She turned slowly and stared at the misty glass panel of the shower.

"Spike?" Buffy said weakly.

"Yeah, love?" His voice came back to her, deep, British and laced with curiosity.

She closed her eyes and swallowed noisily.

All she wanted to do was tell him that he did exist; he was as real as she was. She wanted to reassure him of that, but her words failed her and the moment slipped through her fingers.

"It's nothing…" She said feebly and cursed herself for being weak. There was nothing wrong with offering a little reassurance to Spike after everything they had been through together. He deserved a friend and she knew if she allowed herself to, she could be that person, the one he needed. "I've put a bathrobe over the chair…I'll go clean these things now…promise not to shrink them."

She took a step toward the shower and bit her lip as she held onto his clothes.

Listening to him moving again under the water, she walked toward the bathroom door and stopped with her hand on the knob.

She took a deep breath and quashed her nerves.

"You do exist." She whispered before closing the door behind her.

In the shower, Spike closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.

Buffy was pouring in the washing powder as she felt him approaching her from behind. She let her Slayer senses focus on him as he slowly advanced, stopping just a few feet from her.

"Don't laugh." He said in a serious tone that had her automatically ready to giggle.

Turning slowly to face him, she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter that was pushing up from her stomach--the sight of Spike in her white towel bathrobe was amusing to say the least.

She let her eyes run down his body until they reached his feet, her brows rose as she looked at his ankles--the bathrobe barely reached halfway down his calves, whereas on her it almost touched the floor.

She giggled.

"I said don't laugh, missy." Spike waggled a warning finger at her and she reigned in her giggles and tried to look serious.

"Sorry…just the sight of you in my bathrobe…it's…well, nice ankles." She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter from bubbling up again as he scowled at her and then looked down appraisingly at his ankles.

"Thanks…I guess." He muttered and then raised his head to meet her eyes.

Buffy's laughter fleeted from her lips as she found her eyes locked with his and she swallowed hard. She wondered if he'd heard what she'd said about him existing--if he did, he was doing the honourable thing and not picking her up on it.

"How about some hot chocolate while we look into Mr Slimy?" Buffy managed to break his gaze and walked straight past him to the stairs.

"With little marshmallows?" Spike asked as he followed her.

"With little marshmallows." Buffy confirmed as she held the basement door open for him and then watched him walk into the kitchen.

She didn't know why, but the sight of him walking around her house in her bathrobe made her stomach warm. It was a scene of such domesticity, something she'd never expected to see when Spike was involved and oddly, it felt nice.

Buffy walked into the kitchen and looked at him where he was sitting at the kitchen island with the books spread out in front of him. The bright lights directly overhead made it apparent to her that the cuts on his scalp had been irritated by the water of the shower and had begun to bleed again.

Spike caught her hand in a lightning fast move as she reached out towards him. When she gasped and furrowed her brows, he realised he was hurting her and released her hand.

"Sorry…instinct." He mumbled as she continued to stand next to him with shock echoing in her eyes.

Seeing she wasn't going to make another move to touch him, he caught hold of her hand and pressed her fingers to the cuts in order to show her it was okay.

Buffy watched his strong hand guiding her smaller one along the grazes on the side of his face and she realised she was concentrating more on how it felt to have him holding her hand than she was on the wounds themselves.

As he let go of her hand, she looked at her fingertips.

They were red.

"You're bleeding again." Buffy said quietly and he looked up into her eyes.

"I know…it'll stop soon." Spike answered with a reassuring smile. "Will stop even quicker if you make that hot chocolate."

Buffy nodded and went to move away, but instead turned around to face him again with a serious look in her green orbs.

"Just don't get blood on my bathrobe."

Spike nodded in agreement and let his eyes follow her as she moved around the island to the mugs that had been placed on the counter in preparation.

At first, he watched her as she started to make the hot chocolate, but after a while, he started to idly flick through the books in front of him, searching for any more information on the Grak'schul that would be of use to them.

He had a feeling they were going to meet it again.

As Buffy appeared directly in his line of sight, he watched her quietly pouring the hot chocolate into the mugs and narrowed his eyes. It seemed like such a perfect moment, free from words or fighting, just Buffy and himself in a domestic scene that went straight to his heart.

He felt like she was building bridges with a mug of chocolate.

As she pushed it towards him, he gave her an appreciative smile and couldn't help noticing the way she was clearly waiting for his approval of the drink.

He blew on it and then took a small sip.

"Good…make it like your mum does." He said with a warm smile.

Buffy felt her whole body heat through and she realised she was blushing as she dropped her eyes to rest on the counter.

"I'm not that good." She said with a weight of honesty in her voice that made him want to reach out and cup her cheek in order to reassure her that he'd been telling the truth.

Instead he just stared at her and then down at the drink in his hands. He watched the marshmallows puffing up as they floated on the surface, spinning slowly as they followed the current she'd caused by stirring the drink.

His eyes unfocused as he let the marshmallows whirl around in front of his eyes, his brain travelling down routes that he'd barricaded long ago when she'd told him she could never love him.

Never is a promise.

And from where he was sitting, she was going to break it.

He hadn't realised she'd moved around the counter until her foot accidentally brushed against his. He inhaled sharply and listened to her mumbled apology as she arranged herself on the stool beside him.

"Grak…" Buffy tried to remember the name of the demon they had encountered.

"Grak'schul, love." Spike pushed his book along the counter until it was sitting neatly between them. "Need to find a weakness, something we can use to figure out what it's up to."

Buffy nodded and let her eyes linger on his for a moment too long.

She'd never realised how blue they were, in the bright light of the kitchen with him so close to her they seemed so intense, so rich in colour as he watched her intently. She could see he was trying to figure out what she was up to, it was all there in his eyes for her to read and she realised he was always like this with her. He wore his heart on his sleeve for only her to see, would open up and tell her everything, just in case she took the chance and let him in--it was as though he hoped that by giving himself so openly and freely to her, that she would be encouraged to do the same in return.

And part of her was.

Only the other part of her felt the need to continually push away from him and put him in his place--at her feet.

He was a vampire.

She was the Slayer.

They should be fighting to the death, not sitting peacefully with hot chocolate and research.

Not falling in love.

These feelings were wrong.

Worse than that--they were wrong, but they felt so right. She'd never been so open with anyone as she was with him and each tiny step she took towards accepting him into her life, she grew more bold and opened up a little bit more.

Soon she'd be wearing her heart on her sleeve too.

That petrified her.

To think that she could be so vulnerable, as vulnerable as she had ever been in her short life, and that she had to trust him not to take what she would be giving and break her with it.

And oddly, she did.

Times like these she didn't see the vampire, she saw the man and he was a vulnerable as she was. He was sitting next to her, his eyes locked with hers as they searched her innermost feelings, looking into every corner of her soul in the hopes he'd see what he was trying to find.

That crumb.

That tiny sliver of hope that one day she could love him.

And right now, she wanted to give it to him, hand it to him on a silver platter and tell him his patience had paid off.

There was a chance, glimmering in the recesses of her soul, hidden deep within her so she didn't have to admit to its existence.

There was a chance.

That scared her too.

If she let him in, he'd want to be all the way in. He wouldn't settle for what Riley had, or Angel. He'd want all of her, right down to the core. She was living a life too full of danger to let someone do that, to let them in all the way, until she couldn't live without them. She'd even kept her sister at bay, and her mother before that, locking away a tiny portion of herself so if she ever lost them it wouldn't hurt so badly.

But Spike would want it all. He wouldn't accept what she would want to offer him, wouldn't take the part of her she was willing to sacrifice to the fear of losing him.

Wouldn't stop until he had every last bit of her, had made her completely his and she needed him more than anything.

She couldn't let someone do that, couldn't bear the pain that would tear her heart apart if she lost them, couldn't let them reach in and take hold of her soul.

She couldn't.

Tearing her eyes away from his, she tried to ignore the hurt look in his that said he'd seen the change in her feelings a moment before she'd broken contact.

She quietly sipped her drink and ignored the pain he caused inside her when he sighed heavily and pulled another book toward him.

He sat in silence for a few minutes, scanning the pages in front of him and trying to shut out the fact he'd seen her, for a few short seconds she'd let him really see her before taking it all away again.

"Eyes." Buffy said and then realised that it was probably the exact thing he was thinking about.

"Huh?" Spike looked over at her, his face a mask of blankness, not one emotion on show and for some reason she didn't like him hiding his feelings from her.

"It says we have to, eww, gouge out its eyes." Buffy pulled a face of disgust as she showed the book to Spike; he just stared at it and then shrugged.

"So we gouge its eyes out, no problem." He said flatly and then caught the slightly hurt look in Buffy's eyes. He didn't mean to be like this with her, didn't want it this way, but something about the way she'd get so close to him that he could practically taste her when he breathed and would then pull away again drove him crazy and he couldn't bear it anymore.

It was all or nothing.

All she had to do was make her decision and choose.

He knew it was going to be hard for her, knew her modus operandi as though it was his own, but love was a world of tough decisions and he wasn't going to settle for second best. He'd seen the way she loved, only giving half her heart to the person she was supposed to be in love with, and he didn't want that.

He wanted it all.

Every last drop of her.

Spike swallowed his pride and met her eyes, letting his own soften slightly as he held her gaze for a moment before speaking.

"Patrol with me."

Buffy felt her breath hitch in her throat. They were more than just three simple words; they were an offer and an ultimatum at the same time.

She didn't do ultimatums.

So she tried to skirt the issue and buy herself time to think. "When?"

Spike wasn't willing to give her that time. "Tomorrow."

Buffy just swallowed noisily and toyed with her mug as she tried to think of something to say. She wanted to patrol but things had seemed to spiral out of control tonight and now she was scared of how close they were getting to each other.

"I can't." She said resolutely and listened to his breath hiss through his clenched jaw as he exhaled his disappointment.

"Why not?" Spike ventured as she continued to keep her eyes fixed on her mug and the way her fingers were idly stroking it.

Buffy knew it was going to sound pathetic before she even said the words but her sister had put such effort into arranging everything that she couldn't back out now, no matter how much she really wanted to.

"Because it's Valentines." She said quietly. "And I have a date."

Spike felt like she'd just punched a hole in his chest and ripped out his heart as he stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open and disbelief in his eyes.

He took a moment to collect the fragments of his feelings and shrugged it off.

"Of course." He said in a bitter tone. He'd meant to say it casually, a flippant dismissal of the pain she'd unwittingly caused, but it had come out full of crushed emotions and now she was looking at him with eyes full of regret.

Buffy tried to let his expression and the tone of his voice roll off her, like water off a ducks back, but it wouldn't shift and she was struck by how easy it was for her to hurt him--and how much she hurt herself by doing so.

"You don't have a date?" She asked in a small voice that was laced with curiosity.

"Didn't say that." Spike said with false bravado as he heard the machine in the basement stop and was thankful for the distraction. "Clothes are done."

Buffy took the hint and slipped down from her stool. She could tell he didn't like the fact that he was her prisoner while his clothes were cleaned, and it was clear to her that he really wanted to leave now that the mood between them had cooled.

"I'll need to dry them." She said absently as she moved toward the basement door.

When she reached it, she stopped and looked back at Spike. She wanted to ask why he'd offered to patrol with her when he had a date but she already knew the answer.

If it wasn't her, then it wasn't important.

He'd blow off his date in order to spend just a few moments with her, close to her, fighting by her side.

She knew it instinctively, because she'd do the same.

"Spike…" She started and then almost lost her nerve as his eyes met hers again and even at that distance, she could see the hope in them, could feel it in his signature. "…Let me sleep on it, okay?"

Spike nodded, he'd be a fool if he said he wanted her to make a decision right that moment. Pushing Buffy wasn't something a wise vampire did and he knew that by granting her a few hours to think about it, he was exponentially increasing the chances of her actually patrolling with him rather than going on her date.

"Buffy…if you do decide…meet me at the Bronze…"

She hesitated for a moment before answering him with a restrained nod of her head. What he'd proposed didn't sound much like patrolling but she knew why he'd asked her to meet him there. Everyone in Sunnydale that had a date would be down the Bronze, it was where she was supposed to be going and by asking her to meet him there, he was giving her to the last second to make her decision.

She was thankful to him for granting her that.

Because she'd need it.

Spike swigged his beer and leaned against the balcony above the dance floor of the Bronze. A couple swept past behind him and as they headed down the stairs, he felt Buffy appear beside him. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the band. They weren't doing a bad job of playing covers of old romantic songs, but they couldn't hold a candle to the people that had originally sung them. They lacked the finesse of Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett, all they had on their side was youthful good looks and the fact they could break into more rocking numbers when the crowd started to look bored.

"Wasn't sure you were going to show." He took another swig of his beer and let his hands dangle over the side.

"Neither was I." She turned her head to look at him. "Until just now."

She tried to squash the nerves that had bubbled up in her stomach the second she'd made her decision. Dawn was going to be furious at her but she already had her excuse at the ready--demons came first, life came second.

Buffy scanned the crowd below her and then looked back at Spike as she slipped her coat off to reveal a long slinky dark red dress that was split on either side up to the tops of her thighs. It hung in loose ripples around her chest and as Spike noticed her and choked on his drink, she felt a small spark of satisfaction ignite inside her.

It was nice being able to affect him so badly with the tiniest of things.

It made her feel like she really looked good.

Spike's mouth went dry as he swallowed noisily and tried to stop himself from choking.

"Bloody hell." He muttered before swiftly drinking down the rest of his beer in an attempt to quench his thirst, but his mouth remained parched.

"I wasn't dressing up for you. Dawn had this ridiculous idea about a blind date. Some mystery man that she said would be perfect for me if I just took the time to get to know him…not like I could of course, the second he found out about what I was he'd be off like a shot." Buffy looked down at her dress and then up at the visible hunger painted across Spikes face--it thrilled her to have someone looking at her that way.

As the words pushed through the raging emotions and finally registered in Spike's brain, his brows became knit.

"Dawn set you up, on a blind date? Wouldn't happen to be someone with common interests, attractive, who you would love if you got to know them properly, saw them for who they really are?" Spike looked at her and she frowned in response.

His jaw tensed as he realised what Dawn had been up to and then he smiled internally about how she'd been setting them up with each other, but they had both opted to be with each other out of choice and fobbed off their 'dates'.

"Is this a conspiracy? Are you two conspiring against me now, like I don't have enough problems already without you two starting." Buffy looked ready to hit him and Spike acted quickly.

"No, pet. It's a Dawn conspiracy." He casually slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

"Then how'd you…" Buffy's face turned from anger to horror as she realised what was happening and why Spike was suddenly looking so smug.

"Mystery man." Spike pointed at himself with his thumb then took a long drag and exhaled it through his nose, trying to act casual when all he wanted to do is smile from ear to ear about how ridiculous this week was turning out to be.

Panic whelmed up inside Buffy as she continued to stare at Spike. She couldn't take her eyes off him and she couldn't deny the voice in her head.

She wanted this.

All throughout the day she'd been teetering on the brink of accepting Spike's offer of patrol over going on a date and on entering the Bronze she'd finally made her decision. She'd searched him out and found him on the balcony, watching the world drift by below his feet. She'd willingly chosen him over a blind date and the irony of what had happened wasn't lost on her--she'd chosen him, over himself.

Her sister had set her up with Spike and she'd turned him down in order to choose to be with him tonight by herself.

She realised he was watching her intently and his eyes said he was waiting for her to say something. It was clear that he was expecting bitter words and much glowering, and she didn't disappoint when she took the easy way out that he was offering to her.

"This is great, my sister thinks my ideal man is you?" Buffy grabbed her coat and turned to leave but Spike had her arm. She concentrated on the feeling of his cold hard fingers wrapped around her bicep and couldn't shake the warmth it stirred in her stomach and the way it made her heart beat that little bit faster than anyone had ever managed to make it do.

"Hey, duped me too remember?" Spike forced her to turn around and face him; she was staring at his hand on her arm.

"Yeah, like you really have a problem with this." Buffy tried to peel his fingers off but they wouldn't move. She wanted to run, wanted to hide away again in her neat little hole so he didn't see that it was her who didn't have a problem with it, and not him.

"Would it be such a bad thing?" Spike sighed and watched her vain efforts to free herself.

"What?" She turned her head and looked at him, consciously leaving her fingers resting on his.

"Buffy…what if…just for tonight?" He felt shaky; it was a stupid thing to ask her and any moment now, she'd take him down for it. Something in her eyes and the way she was acting said that she wasn't wholly against what had happened and he needed to push her just a little more in order to see if she'd bite.

"You are not suggesting what I think you are…" She felt his grip loosen and his thumb started caressing her arm, the sensation of it brushing against her skin set her whole body aflame and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.

"For your sister? She put a lot of effort into this, just amuse her?" Spike smiled inwardly at how Buffy wasn't stopping his hand, she just let her own rest on his.

"No, Spike. No, no, no, no, no!" She felt a fiery heat spreading out from where his thumb was softly stroking her skin and something inside her crumbled. Yes.

"Jesus, Slayer, it's just the Bronze…fine we'll patrol for the slimy-whats-his-face." Spike pulled his hand away from her roughly and slammed his bottle onto the nearest table.

She'd closed her eyes the second the glass bottle had made contact with the wooden table top, the sharp bang it made rang through her body and it felt as though he'd just fired a warning shot across her bow.

Something in the way he'd been so forceful, so angry with her, made her knees weak and she wished that he would come back and make her say 'Yes' to his request.

It would have been so easy for her to say it if he'd only pushed her that little bit more, if he'd held her firm for just a few more seconds and continued caressing her arm.

If he'd told her he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Buffy turned and watched him walking towards the staircase. Hurriedly slipping her coat back on she followed him. Even patrolling with him was going to feel like a date in the clothes she was wearing.

Catching him up outside, Buffy walked hurriedly along side him. Her feet were killing her in the shoes she was wearing and he was striding along the pavement as fast as he could go. She thought for a moment about asking if they could swing by her place to change her clothes but opted for biting her lip instead.

Spike noticed Buffy was panting hard as she tried to keep up with him. Rolling his eyes in feigned anger, he slowed down a few notches and then frowned at her choice of footwear. Her small delicate toes were on show in the strappy high heels she was wearing and she'd painted her toenails dark. He couldn't make out the colour but he imagined it was red and ran through scenarios in his mind.

Steering his thoughts back onto appropriate lines, Spike suddenly changed direction and headed off up a side street. Buffy hurried along behind him. He smiled at the sound of the tappity tap of her heels on the hard asphalt.

"Where are we going?" Buffy pulled on his arm to slow him down.

"Your place, change of shoes and weapons." His tone was empty and business like.

Buffy realised she'd trampled all over his feelings, again.

Looking up at him as she fumbled with her key in the front door, she couldn't miss how cold and clinical his expression was. She knew that face; she'd seen it a million times before when he'd been crushed--it was his defence mechanism against her.

Pushing the door open, she held it for him as she stared at the floor. As he breezed past her on his way to the living room, she raised her eyes meekly and watched him. He paused for a moment in the doorway to the living room and Buffy held her breath as she waited for him to turn on her, but he just heaved a sigh and walked to the weapons chest.

She watched him as he lifted the lid and bent over to pull each weapon out one by one. As he pulled her axe out, he spun it around a couple of times in his hand as though testing its weight.

It dawned on Buffy that she liked it when he did that. There was something precise about his movement, the slick motion of the axe arcing in a lazy circle by his side all with an almost imperceptible flick of his wrist. Something told her he'd weighed up far too many axes in his long unlife.

"Get a move on, pet." Spike kept his voice bitter and remained with his back to her.

Buffy blushed as he made it evident he'd known she was watching him the whole time.

Grabbing her sneakers from her room, she paused and looked at herself in the mirror. She'd spent hours making herself beautiful tonight and for what? To patrol with him?

When she'd been getting ready, something inside her had told her there was a high possibility that her mystery man would be him. Dawn had made it clear that the guy would be her ideal man, someone with common interests and the only interest she could think of had been slaying. She considered her sisters words to her, a man that you would love if you only let yourself get to know him.

It wasn't a case of letting herself get to know him.

She knew him.

Dawn's words would have had more impact if she'd chosen to tell her that he was a man she would love if she only let herself.

That's what she had to do. She had to let herself love him, like her heart wanted to.

No one said love was easy. Love was frightening, it made you weak and vulnerable, and she was used to being strong. Love was a thief, it stole your whole world from underneath your feet and put it into another person's hands--someone you'd depend upon, someone you'd need so badly that you couldn't live without them, someone who'd be there in the night to comfort you and they'd take care of the world you placed so tentatively into their protection. Most of all love hurt, it made you bleed from the inside out, made you burn with desire, made you ache with need, made you crave to be held tight in your loves embrace.

Love consumed.

And it was eating her from the inside out, clawing away at her defences until it found a way to escape the confines of her heart and show itself to the object of her affection.

Spike.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and she knew Spike could read hers like an open book. No matter what she tried to hide from him, he could seek it out in her green orbs if he set his mind to it.

In her eyes, she could hide nothing. They betrayed her, gave up her feelings to him the second his met them and she couldn't stop them--no matter how hard she tried.

So patrol was her excuse for a date, because she couldn't bring herself to ask him for that, yet. She'd patrol with him, but not like he expected her to--that was a step in the right direction that she could at least bring herself to take.

Besides, he'd said they were going back to her house to change shoes and get weapons.

Heading back downstairs without changing her dress, Buffy sat down on the couch and looked at Spike where he was sitting in the armchair with the axe across his lap. He didn't take his eyes off the floor near her feet as she slipped her heels off.

As she bent over to pick her socks up off the floor, Spike's eyes slid to her feet, he smiled briefly at the fact that her toenails were indeed dark red. Slipping her socks on, Buffy thought for a moment he was looking at her. As she gave him a furtive look, she saw he was staring at the axe that was cradled in his arms.

Her trainers firmly in place, she took her denim jacket down from the rack and slipped it on. His eyes followed her across the room as she headed for the array of weapons he'd laid out on the table.

Buffy picked up her bag and started stuffing the weapons into it, smiling to herself as Spike's cold look turned to one of fascination.

Walking to the front door she turned to look at him, he was still sitting in the armchair with confusion written clearly on his face.

"Get a move on." She pulled the door open and headed out onto the porch.

Spike appeared a few seconds later with the same look on his face.

"Pet…" He started but his mouth had gone dry again. He'd been expecting her to appear back downstairs in her jeans and jumper, something that could be easily replaced when she got slimed.

"Is this about the dress?" Buffy stopped on the lawn and looked down at herself. She reasoned that it was a stupid dress to patrol in, but she didn't want to patrol, she wanted a date down the Bronze and a sense of normality--she just couldn't find the strength to ask for it.

"Not really what I pictured you patrolling in." Spike scratched at the back of his neck and gave her an awkward glance, the moonlight was outlining her form and he realised he could clearly see the shape of her legs through the dress--all the way up to the apex of her thighs.

"Is it going to be a problem? Just it took me forever to get dressed tonight and it's Valentines and…" Buffy's voice turned to an embarrassed whisper as Spike neared her and placed his finger to her lips--it was just like him to stop her the moment she was ready to say what she'd been struggling with for the past half an hour.

Her heart pounded against her chest as she raised her eyes to his, expecting to see him staring at her with an ardent fire in his eyes. Only he wasn't looking at her, his head was tilted slightly and he looked as though he was listening hard. Buffy took advantage of his momentary distraction to look at him. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply through his nose.

As she let her eyes wander over him, she realised he'd made as much effort in his dress tonight as she had. He was wearing a pair of jet-black jeans and a black patterned shirt that was open around the collar so it exposed his collarbones. Buffy let her eyes weave their way back up his neck to his face, his jaw was as tense as his shoulders and she realised he was watching her as he brought his finger away from her lips.

"Anything?" She concentrated on her lips as they tingled, cold in the centre where his finger had been and warm at the edges of her smile.

"Probably nothing." Spike smiled at her. He'd caught her checking him out and she'd had the same look in her eyes that he'd seen last night, the deceptive twinkle that made him hope he wasn't dreaming and she really was warming up to him.

"Where shall we start?" Buffy asked as he looked up the length of the road toward the centre of town.

"Well…how about the last place we saw it?" Spike offered, and as she nodded and began to walk in the direction of the cemetery, he couldn't resist hanging back slightly and watching her hips as they swayed side to side.

He sighed out through his nose as he followed her, the way she was walking hinted at the fact she knew he was watching her, she was swaying her hips just that touch too much, that little bit more than she usually did.

Buffy stared at the crusty ground and then at the bloodied spot on the tomb where the demon had repeatedly smashed Spike's head against it. She glanced at the vampire in questions face and tried to look casual as he met her gaze and held it.

"Doesn't look like it's been here tonight, thing would've left a trail like a slug and there's nothing here." Buffy said calmly as she managed to break his gaze and looked at their surroundings.

Spike lit a cigarette and then bit his lip thoughtfully as he scanned the cemetery. The book had said the Grak'schul had a tendency to finish what they started and Spike found himself pacing around the place they had last seen it in ever increasing circles.

When he nearly fell on his backside, he smiled triumphantly and looked down. The clear slime sticking to the underside of his boot was enough to make him sigh over the prospect of getting saturated with the stuff again but at least they had somewhere to start now.

That and Buffy was smiling at him as though she was proud of him for using his initiative and finding a trail to follow.

"Like I said…a slug." Buffy wrinkled her nose at the sight of the slimy blobs that formed a trail across the grass and were glistening in the strong moonlight, just like she'd predicted.

"That you did, love." Spike regarded her for a moment and the world seemed to fall away as he let his eyes roam over her. The night was cloudless, still and cold and it was showing on every inch of her.

Especially her chest.

He could see the peaks of her nipples through her dress and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes away from them.

He chuckled quietly as he remembered what someone had once called it when you could see a girl's pert nipples through her top.

"Smuggling raisins." He mumbled.

Buffy gave him a questioning frown as he giggled to himself and she realised he was staring at her breasts. Suddenly self conscious, she buttoned jacket up enough to hide them and shot him a deadly look.

Spike coughed to cover up the fact he was still amused by the term floating around his head and tried to focus on the task at hand, rather than the task his hands wanted.

"Shall we?" He fanned his arm out to one side theatrically and Buffy threw him another cautious look before proceeding to follow the trail the demon had left.

It felt like they were going in circles, they had already walked down Main Street three times and there was still no sign of them catching up with the Grak'schul.

Buffy stopped to catch her breath and rubbed her arms to keep the cold off them. Her little jacket wasn't proving to be much in the way of keeping her warm and the material of her dress was so thin that she could feel the slightest breeze through it.

It felt like cool breath against her skin.

Her thighs ached at that thought--cool breath against her chest, making her nipples pert and her skin turn to goose flesh.

Spike let his eyes slide to rest on her as her heartbeat picked up. The change in its rhythm was almost imperceptible but the hint of desire that hung in the air made his hairs stand on end.

He'd give anything to know what she was thinking.

When her eyes moved to settle on him, he dropped his own to rest on the floor. Something about the way she'd looked at him had humbled him, made William leap to the forefront and the demon inside him recede.

With one simple look, she'd let him know that it was him she was thinking about.

It was him that had her heart racing that little bit faster, her breathing coming that little bit quicker.

He took a step toward her and went to reach out for her arm.

Buffy looked around quickly as a scream sliced through the silence and her heartbeat shot into overdrive, adrenaline flooding her system.

Before he had a chance to touch her, she was gone, running down the street with her hands firmly holding her dress out the way so she didn't trip over it.

Spike bolted after her, gripping the axe a little tighter as he prepared himself for the fight. He could sense it coming, he knew what they were going to find just around the corner and knew Buffy would need him to protect her.

No matter what she'd said, there was no way she could fight in that dress and there was no way he was going to let her.

Spike skidded around the corner to find Buffy standing at the mouth of an alley, she was staring down it, motionless as though any movement by her would disturb her senses and cause her to lose her quarry.

"Anything?" Spike asked as he came up behind her, close enough that he was sure she'd be able to feel his breath on her neck. He wanted to purse his lips and blow, to tease the fine hairs into standing on end, just to know he had the power to do that to her.

Buffy closed her eyes and focused on the way her whole being hummed with anticipation when he was so close to her, she couldn't take her mind off him long enough to get a lock on the source of the scream.

All she could sense was him.

All she could feel was him.

All she wanted was him.

His cool lips against her overheated skin, his sweet words whispered into the shell of her ear, his calloused hands roaming her body.

The sound of a trashcan being knocked over caused her eyes to fly open and the world came crashing back in again.

Spike was already moving past her, walking cautiously down the dark alley. He paused and looked up at the flickering neon sign of the Bronze and Buffy appeared at his side.

"The book said it was drawn to heat…guess it wasn't drawn here quick enough…Bronze would have been closed for a good hour by now." She said in a hushed tone so she didn't draw attention to them.

Spike was staring down the alley. He couldn't hear anything moving, but then that didn't mean there was nothing there. His senses were being clouded by Buffy's proximity and he knew he would be able to get a fix on the demon if he distanced himself by a few feet but he was reluctant to leave her side.

So he concentrated harder and began to walk ever so slowly down the alley, his eyes scanning the large bins cautiously to make sure that nothing was going to jump out at him. He could feel Buffy following him; she'd shrugged off her bag of weapons and was armed with just her trusty stake.

Spike chuckled and nodded at it. "That so you don't get your pretty little thumbs dirty when you gouge out its eyes?"

Buffy regarded her stake and pulled a disgusted face as she thought about what they had to do in order to kill the Grak'schul.

Spike was about to grin when he suddenly found himself being hurled through the air. He heard Buffy scream his name and then everything faded away until there was only pain, and vast amounts of it.

Buffy felt her breath hitch in her throat as she watched Spike sailing through the air and crash into the window of the Bronze. The window seemed to implode, showering the street where she was standing in tiny fragments of tinted glass.

"Spike!" She called out as she stared in disbelief at the window and then flinched as the remaining glass dropped out of the window frame.

A disgruntled growl was the only reply she got but it was enough to send a warm rush of relief through her system and it brought reality back to her with a sharp bump.

She was standing alone, in the street, in an impossibly long dress, with a slimy demon.

And no Spike in shining armour coming to her rescue.

She gripped her stake a little tighter and took a deep breath, readying herself for the fight.

The Grak'schul took one look at her, made a snorting bubbling noise and then turned its attention to the broken window.

"Step away from the girl, you irritating, slimy little bastard." Spike growled as he held onto the window frame tightly to steady himself.

He couldn't miss the look of sheer awe on Buffy's face as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted as though he was her hero to her damsel in distress.

Buffy blinked in disbelief as she saw him standing there. She could see he wasn't feeling up for the fight, small lacerations littered his face and he was holding onto the window frame so tightly that his knuckles were as white as bone, but there he was, protecting her.

Like a knight in shining armour.

Her knight.

She grimaced as he lost his footing and tumbled down the dumpsters and landed on the ground at her feet with an 'oomph'.

Buffy rushed to help him up and was surprised that he accepted her offer. She hauled him onto his feet as his hands gripped her forearms and brushed down his leather duster.

Now that he was nearer to her, she could see that the damage done by the window wasn't as bad as she'd first thought it was. The leather duster had minimised the cuts on his back and had taken the brunt of the damage.

Spike looked down at her small hands as they stilled on his shoulders, he raised his eyes to meet hers and was stunned to find them so full of concern and relief at the same time.

Clenching his jaw to control the pain, he slipped out his jacket and handed it to her.

Buffy raised a brow on receiving an armful of his coat but was silently thankful this was the way he'd chosen to tell her she wouldn't be fighting the Grak'schul. If he'd chosen to voice his feelings she would have felt compelled tell him differently.

Spike cracked his shoulders back into place and set his sights on the demon, it was just standing there watching them. He realised that it wasn't watching them exactly--it was watching Buffy. The heat she was radiating must have been the only thing keeping it still--it seemed mesmerised by her.

"Hey…" Spike hollered at it to try and draw its attention away from Buffy. "Eyes off the girl, mate."

That drew its attention and Spike suddenly found himself having to push Buffy out of the firing line as a stream of slime was shot at him.

"Eww." Buffy said as she bumped into the alley wall and narrowly avoided being hit by the ooze.

She had to admire Spike's valiant attempt to keep her slime free and it seemed to make her feelings towards him bubble to the surface.

Spike growled and launched himself at the demon only to duck to one side as it shot another jet of slime at him. He rolled and found himself standing behind the Grak'schul, exactly where he wanted to be.

Leaping onto its back, he clung to it as best he could and refused to look at Buffy. What he was about to do wasn't something he wanted her seeing and if he didn't see her watching, then in his eyes she hadn't seen him do it.

He plunged his thumb as deep into the demons right eye socket as he could get it and screwed his face up in disgust as he felt the eyeball pop and warm fluid ran over his thumb.

Definitely something that he didn't want her seeing.

The distant 'eww' told him she had though.

He growled and clung on for dear life as the Grak'schul tried to dislodge him from its back. Spike breathed out heavily as the demon backed into a wall and crushed him there, pushing with all its weight until his body was aching with the strain.

Before he could regain the full extent of his senses, the slime monster was howling, or at least bubbling, in pain and Spike opened his eyes to see Buffy standing in front of him.

She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving with her exertion as she stood triumphantly in front of him. Spike craned his neck to see if she'd really done what he thought she had.

The absence of an eye looking back at him and the stake protruding from the socket told him that she really had. She'd turned the tables on him and played her part as his heroine.

As the Grak'schul clutched at its face and continued to snort and wheeze, Spike slid off its back and caught hold of Buffy's arm while taking care to avoid sliming her. He pulled her up the alley a few metres and wrapped his arms around her the ground began to tremble.

Buffy cowered against Spike as she heard the rumbling and the loud bang that followed. She shielded herself in his arms as slime rained down on the alleyway and slapped against the walls.

Breathing heavily, Spike remained still. He had his arms full of Buffy and the last thing he wanted to do was move and break the spell--the slightest motion by him and reality would hit her and she'd be pushing him away.

Buffy closed her eyes as she leaned her cheek into a slime-free part his chest, it felt hard and tempting under her fingertips and she realised that by now she should have broken free of his embrace--only she didn't want to.

She wanted to remain right there in his arms, or as near to him as she could get without getting slimed.

Pulling back slowly, she scanned the alley and was more than a little disgusted by the thick black slime that was now rolling down the walls.

"That is just…there are no words to sum up how gross that is." Buffy said as she watched the ooze dripping off the dumpsters.

Spike looked around, all the while noting that Buffy wasn't leaving his arms.

"I think 'gross' sums it up quite well, love." He looked down at her as she moved her eyes to meet his and he gave her a cheeky smile.

Reluctantly stepping out of his protective embrace, Buffy looked down at her dress and smiled wide as she saw there wasn't one bit of slime on it--he'd held her so gently, so considerately that the only place she was slimed was her jacket and a few selected parts of her skin.

"Thank you…for rescuing my dress…and me." She said with sincerity and saw him drop his head as though his feet were suddenly fascinating.

The sight of him so embarrassed by her thanking him went straight to her heart and she couldn't help smiling warmly at him as he tentatively raised his eyes to meet hers.

Something told her that the average vampire, even Angel, wouldn't have looked so touched by her heartfelt gratitude as Spike did in that moment.

"Shame I can't say the same for me." Spike looked down at himself and then back at her.

Buffy looked up the alley in the direction of her home.

"Want a shower?" She asked and pushed aside the nerves in her voice.

Spike looked up at the broken window of the Bronze and grinned as he took hold of her hand.

"I've got a better idea."

Buffy wasn't sure this was such a good idea. She was standing in the brightly lit girls bathroom of the Bronze and staring at herself in the mirror.

She couldn't understand why Spike had insisted that they get cleaned up here, the chances were Sunnydale's finest were already on their way here and they were going to look as though they had broken in.

Letting her gaze run over her reflection, she pulled her jacket off and wrinkled her nose at the slime that had got on it when Spike was protecting her from the exploding Mr Slimy.

She'd never had a demon explode on her before--usually they just melted away or remained whole.

Change was good.

It added a little spice to the night.

Pulling the pins out of her hair, she bunched it up again and rearranged it as best she could with what she had available.

The Buffy in the mirror stared back at her appraisingly.

She didn't look that bad for a girl that had just stabbed a demon in the eye with a stake. But then, she hadn't done much of the fighting, Spike had been there to protect her and save her from getting completely slimed.

She wondered how he was doing.

Spike looked down at himself and surveyed the damage.

He wasn't as badly slimed as he had been the other night, his shirt was ruined and the front of his jeans had patches of ooze on them but his coat had saved the day again.

His gaze flickered to it where it was laid out on the counter of the bathroom.

Yes, his coat had taken the brunt of the glass and the slime--it was a mess and it was going to be hard to get it clean with the facilities he had in his crypt. He pondered asking Buffy if he could at least clean his coat at her house and something told him that she would actually say yes.

Peeling his shirt off, he smiled at the black t-shirt underneath it and threw the shirt into the trashcan. He grabbed fists full of tissues and wetted them before using them to clean some of the slime off his jeans and his jacket.

Running his fingers through his hair, he walked out the bathroom and looked around the vacant Bronze. It was amazing how much bigger it looked when it was empty, no drunken teenagers butting up against him and no loud music to grind in his ears.

Just quiet.

It greeted him like an old friend and he found himself smiling as he looked at the dance floor.

Buffy wanted a date, a sense of normality.

Maybe he was the one who could give it to her.

Buffy pushed the door of the girl's bathroom open and cautiously stepped out. The silence surrounding her had an eerie feel to it and she slowly made her way toward the centre of the room.

"Spike?" She whispered, frightened to raise her voice and chase away the silence.

She jumped as icy blue lights flickered into life above her and the mirror ball began to cast twinkling spots like stars around the room.

Buffy watched the little dots of light moving around the dance floor under her feet.

"Spike?" She said again, this time with a little more confidence.

"Right here, love." His voice came from behind her and she turned on the spot to face him.

He wasn't wearing his shirt anymore; he was dressed in just a black t-shirt and jeans, and a predatory glint in his eyes.

"We should get out of here, we'll get into trouble." She hissed at him as he advanced on her and her heart started the familiar tribal beat that he always made it do.

"Stay." Spike whispered as he slinked towards her, his eyes never leaving her ones.

She shook her head. "We need to go…"

Spike pressed his finger to her lips, effectively silencing her as her eyes remained locked with his. He could hear her heart beating harder against his chest and even in the dim light, he could see the feelings surfacing in her eyes.

"Just one dance…you wanted a date on Valentines and I'm offering this to you…just one dance, Buffy, one dance never killed anyone."

Buffy remained hesitant to agree. As much as she wanted what he was offering her, she couldn't bring herself to cross the line that would lead to her accepting it. She was scared.

Petrified.

And she knew he could see it in her eyes, the indecision and the internal battle she always fought when she was around him.

She wanted to run, to take the easy way out, to lash out and push him away, to tell him it could never be him--he couldn't be the one to stir these deepest feelings within her, it wasn't possible that she could love another vampire.

It was wrong.

But she was trapped, captured by his eyes and the gentle way his finger was pressing against her lip. It was holding her there, just one tiny touch and she couldn't escape him, couldn't break free.

He didn't need to hold her arms; even the touch on her lips was unnecessary. He could hold her there with his gaze alone and she wouldn't have been able to find the strength to leave because when she looked into his eyes, the whole world melted away until there was only him, them, standing on a dance floor on the most romantic night of the year.

And all she wanted to do was say yes.

To ask him to dance with her, to spin her world in the opposite direction, to turn everything she knew on its head, if only for one night--so she could find the strength inside her to do what she really wanted to do.

Be with him.

Love him.

She watched in silence as the lights played on his skin, making his eyes seem even bluer than she'd remembered them being in the kitchen.

Spike saw she wasn't going to protest and continued.

"Give me this moment, Buffy, you can go back to pretending you hate me tomorrow and deny that tonight ever happened, but give me this moment." He saw the hesitation in her eyes and smiled as a different tactic presented itself. He'd once decided that she sometimes needed to be pushed a little more than he was willing to dare to, that she often needed someone to make the decision for her, the decision she so clearly wanted to make. "I'll make it easy on you, love. I'm not going to ask you, I'm going to tell you."

Buffy's eyes widened and he could see the protest ready to leave her lips--he was undermining her authority and she wanted to know what gave him the right.

Buffy breathed in sharply as he splayed his fingers out against her chest, his cool palm pressing gently into her heated skin. She kept her eyes locked with his, searching them for what he was trying to tell her.

Spike licked his lips as he dropped his gaze to rest on his hand, he started playing out the rhythm of her heart against her chest and her eyes fell to it.

"I know what you want, love, you want this as badly as I do. I know that it's wrong, I'm not blind to the irony of the situation, but it's wrong in all the right ways."

Buffy raised her head and looked him straight in the eye as his fingers continued to drum her heartbeat out against her chest.

"This tells me…" He drummed a little harder against her. "…Everything." He let his hand leave her chest and caught her cheek with it, forcing her eyes to remain locked with his. He held two fingers out with his other hand and intimated her eyes. "And these confirm it."

Buffy couldn't protest. He'd seen straight through her, read her like a book and seemed to know what she wanted more than she did.

She just blinked slowly as his hand remained cupping her cheek, causing all the blood to go rushing there until it felt like her face was fevered.

"Stay." Spike repeated as he tried not to let his nerves show, tried not to give her something she could play on in order to escape. "Just for a moment, be mine, and mine alone."

Buffy felt floored, unable to deny his request as she remained motionless on the dance floor, staring into his eyes and ready to fall.

Spike flashed her a wide smile and the disappeared onto the stage again.

Buffy tried to breathe but it came out in a short rasp. She couldn't believe what she was doing, standing on the dance floor of a club they had just broken into and about to dance with her once mortal enemy.

And oddly, it felt so right, just like he'd said it would.

As the first notes of the tune that he'd chosen drifted over her, she closed her eyes and battled against the nerves that were spiralling out of control inside her.

She could do this.

It was just one dance.

One dance that would change her world forever, because if she took this step she couldn't go back, she'd want to remain in his arms, because when she was in them it felt like she was home.

As Spike reappeared, she dropped her eyes to rest on the floor and smiled awkwardly.

It's not the pale moon that excites me.

Spike held his hand out to her and hoped she'd stay. He'd given her the chance, now it was up to her to take it.

That thrills and delights me. Oh no.

As her small hand slipped into his, he sighed and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

It's just the nearness of you.

Buffy took a deep breath as he drew her close to him, his arms wrapping gently around her waist and his hand holding hers tightly. Finding her strength, she raised her eyes to meet his and bit her lip over how intense they were, full of devotion and tenderness.

It isn't your sweet conversation.

Spike couldn't quite believe this was happening; she was there in his arms, smiling sweetly with her nerves and letting him move her slowly around the dance floor.

That brings this sensation.

Words eluded her as she stared deep into his eyes, seeing every emotion he held inside him and how he felt about her. She felt beautiful as he narrowed his eyes on hers, something in the way he did that made her reservations melt and she really felt like she was the only one who existed in his eyes.

In his world, there was only her and no other.

Oh no. It's just the nearness of you.

Spike held her a little tighter to him as he turned with her, making the most of this one moment that he'd managed to steal. He felt like he was in heaven when she was in his arms and he could feel her soft breath against his skin, her heart beating steadily in his ears and her eyes searching his.

When you're in my arms, and I feel you so close to me. Buffy bit her lip as she lost herself in the moment and found at the same time that she couldn't think of anyone doing something as romantic as this with her ever before. She'd never danced a slow dance with someone who loved her, never been the object of such deep affections and had never been made to feel so beautiful. She felt as though he'd swept her up onto a pedestal and with every glance, he was telling her more and more that he loved her.

All my wildest dreams came true. Spike closed his eyes as her cheek came to rest against his chest, the warmth of her stealing through his top and soaking into his skin--leaving a permanent mark on him, one that would never fade with time.

I need no soft lights to enchant me.

Buffy found truth in those words. Spike could have danced with her anywhere, could have looked her in the eye and she would have been enchanted, enthralled.

His and his alone, just like he wanted her to be.

If you would only grant me the right, to hold you ever so tight.

She felt his grip on her tighten and tried to ignore the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. She'd never had such a perfect moment in her life, they had always been ruined by something but tonight the world seemed to be with her and she was finally being given something she would remember for the rest of her life.

A dance, a slow romance that weaved its way into her heart and made it expand with emotions that she had no way of controlling. She'd never experienced something so romantic, so wonderful but so simple that it touched the deepest recesses of her heart and soul and imprinted itself there. She'd remember this moment, would lock it away and steal glances at it whenever she felt down. She'd see that someone in this world loved her more than anything, more than his own life, and showed her in one quiet moment what life was all about.

Being in love.

And to feel in the night, the nearness of you.

Being in the arms of the man that loved you, and knowing he was never going to let you go.

Buffy raised her eyes to meet his as the music faded and she found that she wasn't the only one with tears swimming in them. She was floored by seeing such sweet emotion in his face, such gratitude for being given something that he could cherish.

That crumb.

That sliver of hope he needed in order to believe that she would love him someday.

Buffy let herself get lost in the moment, captivated by his eyes and feeling like she was floating on air as he smiled at her.

A sweet smile.

She smiled back.

A smile that told him he'd given her the world tonight.

It was time she gave him something back.

Her world.

To protect and to care for.

"Spike…" Buffy whispered in a voice constricted with emotion.

"Buffy…" Spike said ardently as he caught it surfacing in her eyes.

"Promise me you'll never hurt me."

"I promise." Spike said solemnly.

"Promise me you'll never leave me." The tears in her eyes were threatening to spill onto her cheeks now.

"I promise." He said with determination as he drew her close to him as though trying to show her he was unwilling to let her go.

"Promise me you'll always love me."

Spike swallowed hard and stared into her eyes for a moment before answering.

"Always, love."

"Promise you'll believe me when I say…" Buffy struggled with her words as she squashed down her temptation to bolt.

"Believe you?" Spike cocked his head to one side and felt like he was going to pass out if she didn't put him out of his misery soon, everything she was saying was leading somewhere he'd only dreamt of.

"I love you." Buffy felt the tears slip onto her cheeks as she saw the shock in his eyes and then sighed out through her nose as his lips met hers, searing her with a kiss so tender and so full of love that she felt as though she was suffocating.

Spike pulled back and nuzzled her nose with his own, desperately trying to reign in his feelings as they consumed him and struggling to find his voice.

"I love you, Buffy, I love you so damn much." Spike breathed as he rained kisses down on her face and neck.

Buffy pushed him away slightly and looked deep in his eyes, determined to let him really see the she was offering him everything.

All or nothing.

"I love you, Spike…with all my heart, I love you."

Spike swept her up into his arms and held her tight against him as he savoured the moment and what tomorrow held.

Distant police sirens told him right now, savouring the moment wasn't a good idea.

Buffy giggled as he grabbed hold of her hand firmly and started towards the broken window. She grabbed her jacket as Spike slipped into his and wondered if it was always going to be as crazy as this--stealing romantic moments in the most dangerous of places.

A smile settled on her lips as she thought about that.

Whoever said romance was dead had been wrong. Romance was alive and well in a one hundred and twenty year old soulless vampire.

Spike climbed up onto the window ledge and held his hand out to her.

"Come on, love…there's a shower with my name on it."

Buffy grabbed hold of it and hauled herself up.

"Remind me to thank Dawn." She said as she hopped down into the slimy alley.

"For what?" Spike said as he shot her a curious look and ran down the alley with her.

Buffy pulled him to a halt just around the corner from the Bronze and smiled up at him.

"For finding me my perfect man, when he was right under my nose the whole time."

Spike smiled and pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Say it again."

Buffy slipped her arms around Spike's neck and kissed him briefly, savouring the delicate way his lips brushed against hers and made them tingle.

"I love you."

The end