AN: Request/Prompt by wildandcrazyreiley. Check it out on her page under Chapter One of Buffy Short Stories. Sorry I didn't have more time to do more than a one-shot.

Please enjoy Reily's compelling and romantic take on Spike.

Vampires and humans aren't really all that different. Except for the whole human thing.

If you take a human and make them a vampire they don't become different people. They lose their soul, live forever, and change their diet. It doesn't mean that they have to become these blood thirsty creatures that torment every meal they have. Most choose to. It's easier to become the murderer they expect you to be than to try and justify taking a human life. It is especially easy when there is no soul telling you it's wrong. Survival will always win.

Darla was always angry at the world. It was cruel to her up until the day she was meant to die and so when she started to live forever, she simply returned the favor. When it came time to pick a companion it only made sense to find one just as cruel as her.

Liam fit her needs perfectly. The bastard could drink his weight in alcohol, get into fight after fight, rape and victimize women, and still skip his way home. The women were what really sold Darla. Stealing the innocence of women had become a hobby of his and she could see the true potential of that brutality just lurking under that human surface every time he did it. Angelus was only a small step away. He took his change and created a whole new persona melding his dark side with his new soulless one, any good he may have had dying with Liam.

Druscilla used to be an innocent woman. Okay, she wasn't just an everyday run of the mill girl but she was innocent. It was her family that made her stay in the shadows and remain naïve and ignorant. They kept her close and made her keep the gift of sight hidden from most of the world. Unfortunately that was what attracted Angelus. It only made sense to him to take away the family that kept her so pure. His torture was slow and taunting, dragging what was left of her sanity slowly through the mud, right up until the day where she was begging to be killed. Only then did Angelus act, just like with any other pray.

Those three didn't change much from the time they were sired as they were all so mentally broken at the time of their changing. One soul removal and they fed without a problem, playing with their victims, tasting their fear. Bloodlust only pushed the darkest parts of the psyche to the front and they used it to control their lives like they were never able to do as humans.

Then there was William, the fourth part of their very special murderous band. Emotionally as a human he was not that strong, perhaps mentally he wasn't either, but he was always so kind to everyone. He had no cruel or sadistic reasons for changing. He was not tortured into the choice. He simply said yes. So, how could it be that a human like William Pratt became William the Bloody?

Poetic justice?

Yes, that is an ironic question.

The meek and quiet poet had been tormented and bullied by many and sure his first victim was literally asking for a spike through the head but could he ever become as cruel as his companions? Influence only goes so far when the unlife revolves around you.

The secret about Spike was that he wasn't like those he traveled with. In fact he was fairly certain he was unlike any vampire he knew. They all relied on instinct and their harsh, dark nature but he never wanted to kill.

A vampire that didn't want to kill. What kind of vampire was that?

For the longest time he was curious if his soul was still intact. He seemed to have morals that the others lacked. He couldn't simply go through the cycle of torture-kill-walk. (Or torture-kill-skip if you were Angelus). Still, even if he did have a soul it didn't stop him from killing.

The survival instinct was never something he could ignore but it was more than that. Sometimes he would just stare at a human, food far from his mind, and this drumming would start pounding far inside his body. His demon would start pulsing and no matter how much he tried to shove it down it would just thump louder and louder and louder until he couldn't do or think about anything else. He had to kill and he had to eat. When he asked the others if they felt something similar he was only made fun of. Apparently this wasn't a common thing shared among vampires. The demons were always in control. They didn't scratch at the inside like they did for him.

Even so, when Spike had to kill he was the one in control over how his victims died. He didn't enjoy the taste of fear, tears, and adrenaline as the others did. When choosing and taking his victims he would often pick ones that would not be missed and make them feel safe before giving them eternal peace. He could never stomach the immorality of someone knowing their time was up. He wanted them to think that they would have a tomorrow, that it was just another night, and that the plans they made could continue. The rule was that they would die oblivious and happy or they wouldn't die by his hands at all. Well…teeth.

His usual go-to were the members at a bar or pub. Dru always wanted to join him, find a couple and split them off so each one could do what they liked. Whenever he could he would say no. He could never split love like that. He liked to go off on his own, find some runaway, cheer them up, take them out on the town for one final night, before ending them. Sometimes he'd go after the bad people in the world, not letting them have the same luxury and instead ending them quick. This worked out fine until the others started to question him, threaten him, wonder why he was running off on his own so much and not joining them in their fun. That's where William the Bloody came in.

The Big Bad William the Bloody was all a façade. It was just a reason for him separating from the group. William the Bloody would chase his victims down and torture them alone. In reality, William Pratt continued to exist and kill them in the way he saw fit.

Never did he really want to kill anyone. It was just that thumping. It was the worst when he was in front of a Slayer. When he met his first, he was almost hoping that she would best him so he wouldn't have to listen to that pounding in his head again. But that thumping took over and his survival instinct kicked in and he fought for his life as she fought for hers.

A good fight was something he could appreciate and his Pratt side even associated it with dancing. He danced with many opponents but never like a Slayer. That was a thing of beauty. They fought with such ample grace that he was proud and humble to go up against but in the end the Slayers he fought died. First at the Boxer Rebellion and then in New York City.

Nikki Wood really stood out for him. He had great respect for his own mother before she…died…and he couldn't imagine a Slayer having to raise a family by herself. He didn't want to kill her. He really tried to fight the demon inside but it still ended with her last breath leaving her body as he leaned against her. The thing he took from her was not blood or guts or tears but the leather jacket she wore on her back. Something to try and remind himself to beat that demon and to stop the killing.

Eventually he met his next Slayer. His final slayer. Buffy.

When he learned she was there he became nervous. The Slayer was the weak spot for his demon and he expected it to be no different. Only it was.

Never could he pinpoint what it was about her. It only took an instant. One look and the pounding from the demon stopped and instead he was met with an oasis of serenity and silence. No more was he taken over by the overwhelming need to kill. Not while around her. The only thing he craved was to be in her presence.

That's when he made the vow. No more innocents. He was going to be the man she deserved. His destiny was no longer to listen to that drum inside but to be strong. For her. Everything for her.

She didn't understand. Not at first. She had never met a vampire quite like him. He tried to explain it to her, to get her to see that even without a soul he was capable of compassion, but she wouldn't listen. They fought and he fought back only to save his life but he always ran away. He didn't want to hurt her.

That's why William the Bloody came back in full even though he was on his own. He dipped into his fake persona and teased her, fought her, and made her downright crazy. All the while he could only smile on the inside knowing his savior was safe. When she wasn't looking he'd let that smile out.

At night he would watch over her without her knowing. He kept it that way, afraid she would reject him. Again. So he stuck to the shadows and made sure no harm came to her. Vamps and demons on their way to her would die by his hand when he could help and if he couldn't kill them he would wait to see if she needed it in the fight. She never did. She was a beautiful dancer.

He kept true to his vow. No innocents died by his hands again. He drank the blood from the blood bank, living as honestly as he could. He even set up a home in Sunnydale with money he had saved, somewhere to rest his head during the sunlight hours. The fact that it was a crypt was just because it was practical.

Sometimes he wished he could go to her. Comfort her when she was upset or lonely. The slayer life was not an easy one. Of course his watching over her was already verging on stalking and she wouldn't want him to anyway. He would just be her watcher, a guardian angel –or demon, unacknowledged.

He didn't know when it happened. It just kind of did. He didn't realize it right away. Buffy had her share of boy troubles that he overheard from her talking to her friend Willow but it was when he caught her with one that it really sunk in. For the first time since stepping foot in Sunnydale his demon scratched when he saw them kissing. He didn't even know who he was. Just some jock in clothes too tight. He didn't like it. He walked the cemetery without her that night.

Poems were a habit he could never break. He had written many about his Slayer, watching her golden hair sparkle in the light of the stars and moon, dancing with many soulless faces. That night he couldn't find the words.

It was none of his business. He continued to live to the vow he made regardless of how he felt. She was a girl who deserved to have a life with a normal boy. Who was he to get in the way of her loving someone else?

If only she could love him.

That thought alone hit him with the force of a semi-truck. How could he have been so oblivious? He didn't know before but now he did without a doubt: he loved her. Completely and eternally he loved her. Everything was for her and that now took a whole new meaning.

In their fighting and dancing he thought that maybe she saw it too. Really he was just too hopeful. Then came the day of the apocalypse. A day that came plenty of times for the Hellmouth but also the day Buffy found out.

The fight was brutal. There were so many creatures popping out of that Hellmouth and Buffy couldn't take them all. The leader of this attack had her surrounded when Spike finally decided to drop his act and help her with all he could instead of sticking to the outside and plucking monsters off from there.

She fought hard and long but even the Slayer couldn't have seen that attack coming. A long bolt of magic meant to fry the target from the inside out was shot and Spike only just managed to push her out of the way, using his body as a shield. The crack was sickening as he fell to the ground and the magic burned him out. The unlife he had was slipping away slow as he lay curled in the dirt, the magic burning his demon. She defeated the warlock quick, running back to his side.

He could see her face and he knew she was safe and never had he felt such relief. His only regret was leaving her when she had so much more to face. He only hoped that another would take his place to help her when she needed it. Not that she would the help.

"You're safe." His mind started to slip and so did the words he had kept secret for so long. "I've kept my vow."

"Vow? What vow Spike?"

"Everything for you. To watch over you. To love you. To be the man you deserve."

She was crying though he didn't see why. It was a good thing. She saved him in more ways than she could ever understand. She took the demon out of him and made him human again. There wasn't more he could ask for.

"I felt you." She said leaning over him. "Watching me. I'm the Slayer. Really think I never noticed?" He looked up at her with his eyebrows raised and she shook her head. "Thank you."

"You never said-"

"I didn't know it was you. I just figured it out. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about love. Just keep yourself safe, alright?"

"Spike…" He was gone, his eyes closed, his mission complete. The demon left his body and he could finally be at rest. She held his head and closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his thinking of all that could have been.

Never would she have pictured Spike as the angel over her shoulder. She knew about the powerful being watching her, helping her in the shadows. She mentioned it to Giles but they never came up with the answer to who it could be. They never showed their face and they never attacked. It made sense of everything she felt when Spike was around. They were linked in a way she didn't think to understand. Suddenly star-crossed lovers did not sound so ridiculous. Perhaps they were destined for each other even if it would end like this.

Just one kiss was all they would ever have.

She leaned in the rest of the way and pushed his lips to hers sending every apology for every hit and remark she ever made. She hoped that he could feel that, wherever he was.

Then his eyes popped open. His breath came in gasps and he sat up with the realization that his heart was pounding in his chest. He looked around and saw a teary and shocked Buffy watching him as he learned to rely on his lungs again. Then she smiled and he smiled back.

They never really understood why the Powers That Be gave Spike a second chance at life, a life as William Pratt, the human -though human may not have been the right term. He was stronger than any human he came across and though his heart pounded in his chest he could not be affected by mortal wounds. He didn't question the gift and instead used it to carry on the vow he made and protect his savior.

The woman, the Slayer, the one he loved, the one who loved him, the one who breathed life into him again and again. Everything for her.