Spike's breath caught in his throat as he sat on his bed- the only unbroken furniture in his room. His back throbbed, and he mused that his pelvic bone was likely bruised. His shoulder burned and he knew he had to push it back into its socket. He settled back on the silk sheets and closed his weary eyes. He could feel his body fix itself. Most of his wounds would be healed by the next night. His wrist though… He tried to turn it and gasped. Right, that would take at least a week to heal properly.

His mind wandered to the opponent who left him in such a state. He usually didn't mind the rough part of their tumbles, but on bad nights she did more damage that he deemed worth the tumble. Of course that didn't stop him from taking it. He always took it all. Her anger, her pain, her fists, bites, blows… He let her use him and run. He let her abuse him emotionally and physically, because she needed it. She needed the release, so he allowed her to kill him bits at a time.

He categorized his injuries and the moments he "earned" them. Shoulder out of socket- she twisted his arm ruthlessly when he had the nerve to caress her cheek. He knew better than to be tender. Bruised pelvis- she pushed them both through the trap door to his down stair bedroom because he wasn't moving fast enough for her, and she landed on top of him. She managed to keep their bits intimately connected so he gave her props. Broken wrist, bruised cheek and busted lip- he tried to stop her from running away. He demanded her attention, and her company. He dared to mention Angel and she crushed his wrist for the trouble. He admitted he shouldn't have brought up her hulking ex, or to question her as to whether she would have abused him in a similar manner. He knew the answer anyway. She would never touch Angel with anything but love. That knowledge hurt more than any pain she could ever inflict upon his willing body.

Spike settled his hurt hand on his chest and let sleep claim him. His last thought was the same bitter thought as every night, I'll leave her arse the next time. She'll miss me then. She'll realize what I do for her then.

…

Buffy slid under her bed covers, her head was pounding and eyes itched from dried tears. She cried over a vampire. No, she thought, she cried over her behavior towards a creature who loved her. Surely she wouldn't kick a puppy? Then why would she kick Spike? How had she gotten so bad?

Buffy kneaded her temples to ease the ache in her head- an ache that her active mind only worsened. Good Buffy scolded her for abusing a helpless vampire. Good Buffy played her harp and mourned for Spike. Bad Buffy laughed and explained how Spike wanted it that rough. Spike deserved it that rough. The two began a battle and Buffy was fairly certain they brought a little man with a sledge hammer into her head to fight with them.

"Is this what it feels like when Spike's chip goes off?" she asked the dark ceiling. It didn't answer.

She rolled to her stomach and dropped her head to her hands. She needed to sort her thoughts if she wanted even a single wink of sleep. She took a deep breath and let the night's events wash over her. She was getting worse. She was treating him worse. She supposed it was a way to distance him. He was sweet at times, and he looked at her like she was his world. He was a vampire, soulless, and he loved her. And Angelus couldn't. There in lied the majority her angry. Spike could love with an intensity that Angel or Angelus never touched, and it terrified and infuriated her. She took it out on him, but he stayed. Angel left for less. Riley, Parker, her dad, Giles, they left her for so much less, but Spike stayed even when she pushed him away. Why?

Her head hurt worse when she tried to decipher Spike's thought process.

She had two options, she decided. She could like Spike in, or she could leave him. She couldn't continue to treat him like a punching bag or a dildo with hands. One or the other. It seemed simple enough.

Buffy hugged Mr. Gordo to her chest and fell restlessly into sleep.

…

Aphrodite shook her head as she stared down at the image of Buffy reflected in her fountain. "Your mind and heart will see clearly with my help my dear girl," she said. "Soon you will give in and forgo what is expected of you, all for the one you love."

She waved her hand over the body of water and a young, Victorian poet appeared in the Slayer's place. She watched him sit by candlelight and work on his newest piece of… er, poetry.

"And you, my sweet William, you will see a new and sinful world with the eyes of both innocence and corruption. You and she will help-"

A male voice interrupted Aphrodite. "Mother, you're acting like the damn Riddler. You're not on Batman, so please speak clearly," he sighed heavily. "You had the PTB contact me and set me on this case, so riddle me this, do you actually want my help, or do you want someone to stand in awe of your powers? And if you actually do want help, then my first suggestion is to not fiddle with the time line."

Aphrodite turned to her son. "Eros, I do want your help… partially. I never get to spend time with you. Is it really so bad for me to want your attention?"

"Does this mean you're disregarding my suggestion?"

"How is Hedone? I haven't seen him in a couple hundred years," Aphrodite said.

"That would be a 'yes' then. Mother, you are a maniac. The Powers are going to regret dusting you off."

Her lips twisted into a tight, fake smile. "The Powers told me to fix their love story. All stories are best to fix at beginning. Since they don't want me to simply will them to pull their heads out of their asses. Something about scoobies and fake engagements, undo spells and willow trees. I don't know I didn't listen very hard. If they wanted a well behaved god then they should have gone Hathor. But they didn't, they came to me. I do not play by rules."

Eros scoffed, "You know Hathor is unstable. She'd more likely end the world than fix the Slayer's love life." He paused a moment, "And the cow thing she does is disturbing."

"True… and the hat of horns doesn't help." Aphrodite shook her head, "If they have a problem with me, let them fix the Slayer and Vampire. I'll live in some other dimension when this one ends. This is how I work," she said firmly."

Eros sighed, "How do you even plan on doing this?"

"I had a chat with an old friend. Chronus, the keeper of time is sending Spike's mind and soul into William's body, and William's mind and soul into Spike's body. Easy enough."

"Spike is soulless, Mother."

"Whatever. His mind and spirit then, and William's mind and soul. I don't particularly care as long as all their memories are intact."

"When does your crazy plan start?"

Aphrodite flicked her wrist carelessly. "Now."