Disclaimer: I don't own it.

(A/N) This was done as an RP with me playing Spike. Any additional chapters will be long in coming.

Spike sat on the ground, back against a tombstone, staring at the moon. He loved it when it hung just so in the sky, a tiny sliver of its former full glory. A tiny flicker of flame lit his hand as he lighted up again. It was a peaceful night so far, the best he'd had that week, but it was only Tuesday.

Buffy walked quietly nearby, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, one fist clenched around a stake. Her eyes scanned the cemetery as a light breeze swirled a few stray strands of hair around her face. She sighed softly, not really expecting to find anything on patrol that night.

Spike exhaled his smoke. He could feel the Slayer somewhere behind him. Although, he could usually feel her anyway. The smoke curled upward into the cool night air. Perhaps Buffy would sit and chat, perhaps she's gonna pick a fight, maybe she'll pass right by. The possibilities were endless with the fickle Slayer.

She kept walking, nearing Spike's resting place. She saw the smoke rising up into the night air before she saw him, a slight smirk curving her lips. "Spike," she stated, her voice quiet as she paused in front of him.

He nodded, acknowledging her presence. "Slayer." He tried to play it cool, knowing at any moment his resolve would vanish. He glanced up at her, the pale moon and stars creating a glowy halo around her beautiful blonde head.

"What brings you here?" she said softly, trying hard to keep her face emotionless. She gazed steadily at him, her hands now out of her pockets at her sides, the stake forgotten.

Spike chuckled. "Kinda live here, pet. You're the one who's just visiting…" He smiled. She was actually trying to be friendly tonight. Must have fought with Nibblet today or something equally tragic. Maybe it was the moon. Though not quite gone, it still affected the nightlife more than one would guess.

She raised her eyebrows, her eyes darkening slightly. "Sorry for asking. Just seems like you'd be brooding in your crypt rather then sitting out here."

His eyes narrowed. "Peaches broods luv. I'm no poof." He shrugged. "Besides. It's a lovely night. Even the simple villains enjoy a quiet night at home once and again."

"Villains?" she said softly, a soft chuckle of amusement slipping from her lips, her eyes still dark.

"Big baddies, scoundrels, immoral denizens? Heard of em before?" He kept his expression as serious as possible. He could feel her start to crack though. "What kind of slayer are you?"

"Of course I have," she snapped, her expression and tone harsh. She then softened slightly. "But you? Under one of those titles?" she chuckled again.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Slayer. I daresay you're fallen off your high horse only to hit your head on the way down. My title is more 'Gorgeous Yet Still Evil Vampire." He smirked and patted the grass beside him. "Why don't you have a little sit? It's a slow night anyhow."

She laughed this time, intending to lightly mock him but truly agreeing with the 'gorgeous' part. She refused to let him know this, however. She sat slowly on the ground beside him, her movements fluid and graceful. "I'm not so sure about the 'evil' part, Spike," she said softly, looking at him, her expression serious.

Spike tilted his head to stare Buffy down. "Doubtin my credibility luv? I have references you know…" The classic smirk faded slightly…if he wasn't evil, what did she think he was? The past hadn't been erased and that was definitely two strikes and against him. After a slight pause, he started speaking again, matching her previous tone. "If I'm not evil…what's that make the Slayer of Slayer's nowadays?" He really hated bringing that up, but slayers and vampires weren't supposed to be friends. He'd been told that enough to finally believe it.

She softened further, tucking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. "Besides being a Slayer with a screwed up life?" she shrugged slightly, trying to make it seem as though it didn't bother her. "I suppose you could say you were once evil...but I'm not so sure anymore..." she smiled slightly, genuinely.

Spike's resolve vanished. How jealous he was of those fingers running through her soft hair. He relaxed back against the tombstone again. "S'ok luv. Life gets complicated but without heartache and disappointment, how would we know what love and joy truly are?" He pointed up towards the moon. "It's the real reason I'm outta the crypt right now. Even at a fraction of it's former self, it is still so beautiful…" He trailed off, perhaps he had admitted more than he wanted to.

She looked surprised, an eyebrow raised. "Something wrong, Spike?" she asked softly, gazing at him steadily.

He slowly shook his head no. Spike couldn't even face her directly. "Yup. I'm right as rain, only without the water. How 'bout you? You seem…tired."

"Long nights," she replied, a light smirk on her face. "Not to mention long days. Dawn...Dawn's not exactly the easiest to get along with these days." She sighed softly.

Spike nodded grimly. "Been there done that pet. Cept the days part. Getting smashed at night and sleeping through the day works pretty well." He grinned and turned to face her. "You should try it." He stared into her eyes. He could see a reflection of the moon in them and the two together were beautiful something powerful.

She couldn't tear her eyes from his as she murmured softly, "Yeah..." Inside she wondered what it was with her and vampires - how she always seemed to fall for the ones she slayed.

He was frozen in her eyes. If she wasn't careful, she'd be opening a can of worms she wasn't prepared for. He ripped his gaze from hers and a ripple of pain crossed his features. He closed his eyes and sighed. "How bout you tell me what's really on your mind pet, cuz you're not foolin me."

She looked away quickly, her cheeks turning light pink. "I think you know," she said softly, tucking another strand of hair out of her face.

Spike opened his eyes but avoided the blonde by his side. He chose to stare into the sky instead.. "There's a big bloody difference between me knowin and you admittin it. Besides isn't it past your bedtime? All other good little girls are in dreamland right about now…"

"Is there really a difference?" she asked quietly. Her cheeks slowly faded back to their natural color as she scoffed softly. "'Good,' Spike? You make it sound like just because I'm the Slayer I'm perfect. I know several people who would argue that one with you."

He smirked and lit up again. "Several people? Got a full fledged mob yet?' He chuckled. Tonight had worked out a lot better than he'd ever hoped. Although had someone told him where he'd be and with who…Spike would have laughed briefly and then decked whoever had dared to speak up.

"Ha. Ha," she muttered softly. "And by the way, there's a little something called tact. Of course, you've obviously never heard of it." She sighed again, gazing at the ground. "But Giles...Dawn...Willow...they could all tell you that I'm something other then could. Or at least they know they could. And let's not forget Xander. Don't think he's ever defined me as purely good since...since Angel..." her voice softened on her last two words.

Spike snarled. "Bloody hell pet. Just sod the whole business! We 'ave a conversation and you bugger the whole thing up. I don't want to hear you gripe about Peaches and your sorry first love…never have never will. So if you don't mind…I've had enough." Spike was so angry…she should know what effect HIS name brought about. He stood up, glaring at her before storming off. But the turmoil within his deep blue eyes wasn't in anger, it was pure pain at having to say those words…

She quickly realized her mistake, her eyes widening as she jumped up from the ground and hurrying after him. "Spike, wait!" she quickly caught up with him, placing hand on his shoulder and attempting to force him to stop. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't...shouldn't have mentioned him." She fell quiet for the moment, pleading with

Spike turned, the torment in his eyes echoing across his features. "Damn right you shouldn't of. I get you pegged as bein kinda nicey nice then you spit on it." His stormy blue eyes spoke the words he could never hope to. They conveyed his feelings of betrayal better than he could voice. The turbulent mix of emotions showed mainly a rage followed closely by treachery and a faint glimmer of something more…deep and everlasting.

Guilt filled her eyes as she looked away for a moment, profusely regretting having mentioned Angel. She reluctantly, slowly pulled her hand away from his arm. She said nothing for several long moments, then finally looked back at him, her eyes cloudy with the many emotions she felt at the moment. "You have right to be mad, Spike. But try to understand, please. I may have mentioned him, but…" her voice grew even more quiet, her expression honest. "…but that doesn't mean I still have feelings for him," she gazed into his eyes.

He blinked a few times, tightly shutting his eyes and clenching his fists. "Words are nothing. He's still all over you and deep in your heart to boot." He met her gaze and stared her down, slowly advancing on her. Spike tilted his head to stare directly into her soul. "I can practically feel it."

She sighed, pain in her eyes. "Spike…" she said his name softly, tenderness in her voice. "I…I won't deny that I do feel…something for him inside…" She seemed to almost be holding back tears. "But I know it's over between me and him. And I've moved on." She looked away for a moment, then returned her gaze to his. "Moved on to…to better things," she stared at him meaningfully, half-wondering if he caught the hidden message in her words.

Spike choked a little, forgetting that he didn't need to breathe. The way she said his name sent chills up his spine and down. He could feel the emotions behind her words, and yet the power in the things she couldn't voice. Moving quickly, he tightly pressed his lips to hers and seemed to vanish in thin air. Spike just couldn't stay, thinking this time he'd crossed a line or twenty. He thought about returning to his crypt, but figured it was the first place she'd look. Instead, he headed to the last place she'd check, the Bronze. At least he could sit and watch the people from above and drown his sorrows in a bottle or fifty.

She gasped at his sudden disappearance, still able to feel his lips on hers for several minutes after. Buffy slowly walked to his crypt, hoping she'd find him there as she opened the door slightly, but almost relieved that he wasn't inside. She crossed her arms under her chest and quickly turned and left the cemetery. "Forget patrol," she muttered softly.

Meanwhile, Spike was getting properly trashed in the balcony of the Bronze. The music was loud and grating, almost perfect for his mood. He was being torn up inside by his conflicting feelings. Some said he was right and others screamed he was wrong. In an effort to ignore all of the voices, Spike gulped down another bottle and cracked open yet another. Someone would kick him out eventually and he'd stumble home, hopefully before the sun rose. Bugger if it did anyhow. He really had no direction, nothing to live for, nothing to get him through day by day. He had failed at the one thing he was good at-killing slayers.

Buffy walked home slowly, passing by the Bronze. She paused for a moment, than with a slight shrug of her shoulders went inside. She immediately wished she hadn't when she saw Willow and Xander sitting at a table. She almost felt guilty because of it, but she turned away, glad they hadn't seen her. She headed over to the counter to get a drink, walking quickly away from her friends. She stopped abruptly as her eyes landed on Spike.

…Who was idly talking to the half empty bottle in his hand. Spike was sitting in a corner sprawled on an huge chair and staring at the glass in his hand. He was having a rather in depth conversation with it regarding life in general and why it was better to be a bottle. Of course, the bottle was the more coherent of the two seeing as Spike had accomplished his goal of getting absolutely smashed.

Spike did not turn his head to watch her approach. He could already feel her presence the moment she stepped inside the Bronze. He was still muttering to himself. "Bugger...practice hiding...off and away...not crazy just..." As she got closer, he swung his head around and finally stopped to face her. "You're not supposed to be here." Spike spoke clearly, emphasizing the negative word not.

"But I am," she said softly. "I am because I was... I was worried about you," her voice was still quiet. She looked him in the eye, her head tilted slightly.

He threw back his head and laughed as if there were no tomorrow. He waved his hand trying to brush her off. "Not what I meant pet. You shouldn't be here…" Spike sat up straight and leered at her. "You should be over heeeere." He patted his lap but then relaxed back into the chair, an arm on each armrest. Realizing what exactly he had said he cringed beneath her stare. "Don't stake me! I don't believe I'm reshponsible for this accounting the me being shnookered part…" He let his head roll back as he stopped talking.

She stared at him steadily for a moment before speaking, pity in her eyes. "Nice, Spike. Something happens between us that confuses you, so then you go and get trashed." She shook her head slightly. "And I wouldn't stake you for that." A small smile curved her lips for a brief moment. "It takes a lot more then that to earn a meeting with Mr. Pointy."

"Sure you wouldn't." Spike clenched one hand into a fist and began pounding on his chest over his heart. "Shtake! Shtake! Ssshtake…" He fidgeted a little in his seat and swallowed the rest of his drink. He regained a little clarity as the liquid burned down his throat. "World's not all about you Slayer. There's a lot of things you don't undershtand." Spike picked up yet another bottle and downed it.

"You know I wouldn't, Spike," she insisted quietly, walking silently to the chair beside him and sitting down. Her eyes still remained on him. "And I never said the world was all about me." She looked away for a moment, her voice more quiet as she next spoke: "And you don't need to remind me that there are indeed a lot of things I don't understand."

Spike blinked a few times and let the loud music wash over him. The lyrics had something to do with leaving and the sadness but it just didn't fit his mood. He wanted something obnoxious and angry. He set a half empty bottle at her feet. "Won't kill the pain but it helps ignore it." Spike stood and stretched a little. Sadly, he was sobering quickly. He didn't know quite what to do so he sat back down and left the bottle alone.

She turned to face him again slowly, once more looking him in the eye. She said nothing for several long moments, the music pounding into her ears. After several moments she winced, placing her fingertips lightly on her temples and massaging them silently for a brief amount of time.

Growling, Spike stood and kicked the bottle off the balcony where it crashed harmlessly to the floor below. He grabbed Buffy's elbow and drug her downstairs. At the bottom he spoke in her ear, pointedly so she'd know he meant business. "I can't stand your pity trip any longer pet. If you want to sort this out, you know where I'll be." He turned from her for the second night and strode towards the door.

Suddenly angered by his attitude, she matched his pace. She reached out and grabbed his arm, using her "Slayer-strength" to turn him around to face her. "Dammit, Spike!" she cursed semi-loudly, ignoring the stares she earned from those nearby.

Spike smirked as he found himself facing a very angry slayer. "Yes luv?" He glanced at the people who were staring, clearly amused at her outburst. "What can I do you for?" He feigned innocence at his innuendo but Buffy was always more fun when she was mad.

She released him quickly, looking away for a moment. Her breathing had increased somewhat, but her tone was even as she spoke again. "You act as if this is all my fault. Everything that's ever happened...happened between us. And that you're the only one who is confused about this." She hesitated briefly. "But you're not, Spike. Get it through that thick head of yours," and with that she started to push past him.

He turned around and snatched one of her hands. When Buffy twisted back around he got the other. Pulling her back towards him, Spike held her close and whispered in her ear. "It's nobody's fault but fate's. Tell me that I'm not sending little chillies down your spine and I'll leave. Right now. Never bother a hair on your head again." He pulled away from her, leaving a space between them. He could practically taste her heart race even from this distance. His stormy blue eyes locked with hers as he waited. It was her turn to move a piece and Spike frankly couldn't wait.

She closed her eyes for a moment, a pained expression on her face. When she opened them unshed tears caused her eyes to shine in the dim lighting. "You are," she said, choking slightly. "And I don't know why...why I feel this way, Spike. But I do." She looked away again. "I'm not exactly fighting it, though," she murmured.

Spike's unbeating heart ached at the sight of those tears marring her face. They sparkled in the light and brought a sad beauty but were otherwise bad things. This was not the place, anywhere but here, for a discussion like this. He nodded and walked slowly towards the door, his fingertips grazing hers as he passed. Spike knew, deep down inside, that she would follow whether now or eventually. She would come.

With no hesitation, Buffy followed him into the cool night, her arms crossed under her chest. She took a deep breath in a vague attempt to steady herself, but to no avail. She had surprised even herself with what she'd said to him, but she had spoken the truth.

Spike paused in the middle of the road and glanced back. He thought he saw her shiver and he handed her his duster. He continued walking back towards the cemetery and his crypt. The silence was not an uncomfortable one, it was a peaceful night anyway. Perhaps even soothing, had he never left his place at the grave staring at the moon.

She managed a small smile as a silent "thank-you" as she slipped it on. She walked beside him silently, her eyes on the ground. After several long moments she slowly looked back at him, the tears she had been holding back earlier having faded somewhat.

He met her gaze. Smiling a little, he pushed open the door of the crypt. Once they were both inside, he shut the door and lit a lamp. Spike sat on his dusty couch and indicated for her to join him. "Got your knickers in a twist about us? From the way I see it, it's perfectly natural…well as these things go."

She sat on the edge of the couch, surprise prominent on her face. "'Natural?' Spike, this...this isn't natural. I mean..." she paused, sighing softly. When she spoke again her voice was quiet. "You're a vampire, I'm the Slayer. And...and this shouldn't be..." she trailed off, confusion prominent along with her initial surprise at his words. She looked away slowly.

Spike chuckled. "I've been waiting to explain this…why it's ok for us to do what we do. And you're lucky I'm still coming off this nasty bender I went on, otherwise we wouldn't be chatting so friendly like." He turned to face her, one arm along the back of the couch and the other on the leg not bent on the furniture.

She looked back at him steadily. "What are you trying to say, Spike? Because, truthfully, I'm not in the mood for riddles at the moment." She knew she sounded irritated, but at that point it didn't bother her that much. She felt so overwhelmed and had no idea what to do.

Spike nodded and decided to take it very slow, one step at a time. "Ok pet I know you're frustrated…as am I. The reason I got smashed tonight was because I wanted to tell you this before when we were moon gazing but I…just couldn't." Looking away he ran a hand through his platinum locks. Meeting her eyes once more, he spoke softly as if his words would slip away unheard. "I love you."

Her eyes widened slightly as she absorbed his words. It was a shock to her, especially because she'd thought she was the only one of them that felt that way. "Spike..." she said softly, obviously struggling with how she should say what she wanted. "I...had no idea you..." she trailed off for a moment. When she spoke again her eyes had once more filled with tears. Her voice was just as quiet as his: "I love you, too."

He was frozen. Unsure whether to be overjoyed at finally knowing the truth or terrified. There was ample reason for both. Any other thoughts fled his mind however, at the sight of her tears. Spike leaned over and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb, lingering perhaps a little long with his hand on her cheek.

Her eyes closed at his touch, his skin cool against hers. She sighed, the action shaky as she realized with a jerk how much Spike meant to her. She leaned slightly into his touch, her eyes still closed.

Spike still couldn't believe that the slayer, that Buffy, loved HIM. Of all people…but she'd loved before and that was something he just couldn't risk happening again. He smirked and withdrew his hand. "Does that make me your nancy boyfriend of the month now?"

Her eyes snapped open, the anger within them masking how deep his words and tone had cut her. She stood quickly, still gazing at him. She said nothing, simply turning to leave.

"Wait luv…" He stood behind her, knowing there were tears in her eyes again. Spike approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. He whispered again, it seemed to be the only tone they could have a rational conversation in. "It's ok if it does…Just want you to know what it means too…"

Buffy didn't resist his embrace, his touch calming her. Her eyes were closed again as she spoke. "What -does- it mean, Spike?" she said, whispering as well. "What...what does this all mean?" she mumbled.

He rest his forehead on the back of her head. He blinked back a tear. He was tired of his unlife and had thought about letting her win one of their fights. In all the long years he'd lived he'd only loved two others. One would have nothing to do with him and the other snubbed him for another. But her declaration rekindled hope even if the flame was still so small. "It means…I'm yours…for as long as you'll have me."

Her eyes opened slowly as a small smile curved her lips. She turned just as slowly in his arms to face him. Speechless once more, she said nothing, realizing quickly how close together their lips were. "Sounds good to me," she breathed softly.

Spike opened his eyes as soon as he felt her shift in his arms. He felt her breath dance past his lips. But sometimes, soft and gentle just wasn't one of his finer qualities. He crushed his lips to hers and pulled her even tighter into the hug.

Buffy gasped inwardly at the passion she felt in his kiss, her eyes already closed as she returned the kiss - though not quite as rough as he.

He was in heaven. Complete bliss. Yet he pulled back anyway. "Open your eyes...please." He started off growling but the pleading look in his eyes gave him away.

Her eyes fluttered open, gazing into his as she spoke softly. "What is it?" she breathed.

Spike hesitated, the moment was broken. Without a word, he laced his fingers with hers and led her back to the couch. Breaking their contact, he sat down in one corner much as he had before. This time, however, he left room for Buffy to join him. He tilted his head upward and spoke cautiously, "Does the Nibblet know you're here?"

She slowly sat beside him, her gaze still fixed on him. She lowered her hand, his words puzzling her slightly. "The...Nibblet?" she asked quietly, a skeptical expression on her face.

Spike shifted slightly as she sat down. "Uh, tall, brown hair, last name of Summers? Goes by the name Dawn?" Spike kept fidgeting, still slightly unsure if Buffy would change her mind about the whole loving a vampire again.

Buffy raised an eyebrow slightly, an amused expression replacing her skeptical one. "Right. Nice nickname for her, Spike," she said quietly. "And no. She thinks I'm out on patrol. Which isn't exactly a lie - I was until I ran into you."

He pulled Buffy to him, wanting to cuddle with her in the worst possible way. "Guess I asked the wrong question…will the Scoobies know you're gettin cozy with the Big Bad?" Spike squeezed her a little on the last part, emphasizing his completely serious need to know the answer, hoping against all odds she wouldn't break his heart.

She leaned against him lightly. "I don't know about the 'Big Bad' part," she chuckled softly. "But eventually I'll tell them. Or they'll find out, one way or another," she said softly. She closed her eyes, her entire being relaxed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Warmth, almost to the point of liquid fire all rolled into a nice package named Buffy. He felt like flying…or floating if the flying thing backfired. Spike scowled playfully. "Ya know luv that's the second time you've said that first part. Could really hurt a guy's ego."

She said nothing for several long moments, a small smile curving her lips again. Her eyes opened slowly as she looked at him steadily for a moment, realizing that perhaps she shouldn't have repeated herself. "I know. But the way you treat me...just doesn't seem like the way the "Big Bad" would," she said quietly.

Spike met her eyes and the play scowl still remained. "So it's between you," he poked her side for emphasis, "and my reputation?" He thought about it for a few seconds and the finger poking her side turned into a lazy caress. "Seems I'm making the right choice."

A shiver ran down her spine at his last few words as she smiled again. Her eyes sparkling slightly as she sat up, facing him. She touched his face lightly. "That's what I was hoping you'd say," she said softly.

He brought his hand up and held hers against his cheek. Staring deep into her eyes he couldn't help but think if his heart could skip a beat he'd definitely be having some blood flow problems. Not that he was having those problems now. "Any bloke lucky enough to have an angel hope he says something is a lucky man indeed."

Although she knew he wasn't speaking of her former lover, Buffy jerked slightly at the word "angel" as it passed through his lips. She averted her eyes from his face reluctantly, as if she knew he would sense what she was thinking.

Until Buffy turned her head, Spike had been blissfully unaware of his slip. Spike chuckled and moved his hand to turn her chin back his way. "Big difference between an angel and Angelus." His expression soured. "Just call him what he is-Angelus. The Angel you know is just a façade."