This is set in season 6 of Buffy and explains just what Spike was doing with those demon eggs that Riley was searching for. This is a Buffy and Spike romance, so if that's not to your liking, I'd move on.

The Blood Heart

All he wanted to do was get drunk. To be able to escape those wretched feelings for just a moment. Feelings that he wasn't even supposed to have, considering he was a soulless vampire. But they existed anyway, and they tormented him.

Spike took another swig from the bottle in the brown paper sack he was carrying and nodded to the proprietor of Willy's as he strolled past. Willy looked like he wished he could say something about the bottle, but chip or no chip, he was still scared of Spike.

The other nasties around him glared and some murmured, but no one made a move. Spike's reputation preceded him, so though he was hated for his alliance with the Slayer, none had the testicular fortitude to challenge him.

"There he is!" Clem said as Spike walked into the backroom that was used for cat poker. "We were about to give up on you."

Spike plunked the bottle down on the table, slid into the seat next to Clem and lit up a cigarette.

"Plenty would like to play Spike," hissed the other demon. We don't need you for a fourth. It's not like you're irreplaceable."

"I'm here aren't I? I even brought a tabby!" Spike pulled a kitten out of his coat and tossed it in the box on the table. "Besides, that seat isn't filled yet either, so sod off!" He blew twin streams of smoke out his nostrils.

"What's with you?" Clem asked. "Girl problems again?"

Before Spike could answer, the door opened and a strange demon walked in. He had pasty wrinkled yellow skin and lab goggles attached to his face so you couldn't see his eyes. He was wearing a white lab coat, black rubber gloves and black boots.

"Gentlemen, I have arrived," he said in a Boris Karloff voice.

"About bloody time," Spike mumbled.

Paying no attention to Spike, The Doctor walked over to the empty chair and sat down. "What are we playing for? Tabbies? This won't do. I was wanting more than snack food. Why don't we make things interesting? Up the stakes, so to speak?" he grinned at Spike.

"What've you got?" the other demon asked The Doctor.

"Eggs. That when hatched will unleash creatures that will easily destroy the world."

"Sounds interesting," the other demon said. With a flash, he produced a briefcase and opened it. "Black market O negative spiked with a little something extra." He glowered at Spike. "Primo stuff."

Clem pulled a potion out of his pocket. "It will make you invincible for a couple of hours."

"So," The Doctor looked at Spike. "Do you have anything of value, vampire?"

Spike sighed a sad sigh and reached into his coat. He produced a small black velvet box. He sat it down on the table and opened it almost reverently. Inside sat a ruby heart pendant on a delicate gold chain. A tiny golden arrow seemed to be piercing the ruby.

The Doctor scoffed. "Jewelry. You can take that to the pawnshop. What's so special about that?"

Spike sadly looked down at the box, remembering….

She had stopped by after work. The smell of French fry grease and hamburgers still clung to her body, now mingled with sweat.

They lie on his floor, they just never made it to his bed, clothing scattered around them, under a blanket. Spike lay on his side, arm propping up his head as he listened and watched Buffy talk about how much she hated the Doublemeat Palace.

She lay on her back, the blanket pulled up to cover her chest. Her short hair was tousled, but still attractive. He missed her long hair. He wondered why she'd cut it off. Her skin was soft and warm and she lay close enough that he could feel it against his cold skin. He watched her lips as she spoke and ached to kiss them again.

He had lived, in a sense, for over one hundred years and she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He truly loved her with all of his black heart.

"And then, the guy was all, 'why can't I use my discount card with the combo meals,' and I was like, 'listen mister, I don't make the rules, I just enforce them,' and then he was all 'I don't like your attitude, missy…" she trailed off as Spike took her hand and kissed it.

She looked uncomfortable. "I'd better go." She got up quickly, lunging for her clothes. "Dawn'll be complaining again that I'm never there and that I hate her." She sighed as she got dressed. "I just can't win with her."

Spike watched her as she prepared to leave him once again. "I know how that feels."

He saw her flinch. Good. It was hard to love her so much and have her constantly say it meant nothing. No matter what he did, it would never be enough. He would always be the creature without a soul, unworthy of her love.

Buffy turned back to look at him. She looked uncomfortable and sad. "I've gotta go."

"Buffy." It was all he needed to say. His tone spoke volumes.

"No Spike. Don't." She walked away, out of the door and out of his life again.

He watched her leave. "Why can't you accept the fact that I love you and you love me?" he called to her, knowing she could not or would not hear.

It was Friday night. Usually a primo night for vampires to get a meal or two, but no longer for Spike. He wandered the streets aimlessly, trying to find something to do. Buffy was at work and not likely to come by for a little cold comfort. She was on her 'this is wrong' kick again.

He passed a guy with bleached hair in spikes and tons of piercings making out with a girl with pink hair and tattoos. A preppy looking brunette held hands with a GQ guy as they strolled down the darkened streets. Spike sighed. The love of his life would never hold his hand in public. He hated all the happy little couples with their perfect little lives. Oh, for those chipless days…

He passed by the Bronze and a pretty little blond teenager came out of the door and bumped into him.

"Sorry," she said and smiled, looking him over and liking what she saw. Her blond hair was shoulder-length and she wore a short little green dress and black knee-high boots with chunky heels.

He had a flashback of first meeting Buffy when he looked at her. He had first seen Buffy in action outside this building and he had been impressed with her even then.

"Nice work love," echoed in his head.

The little high school girl had joined her friends and was off laughing with them into the night. Spike watched her go, and then continued on.

Something caught his eye as he walked by the jewelry store. He stopped. In among the diamonds and the amethysts was a ruby heart necklace. A gold arrow looked like it pierced the heart like a stake. Spike smiled, thinking it was something a Slayer would wear. He checked the price. $100. He rummaged through his pockets and came up with five $20s. He sighed. "Looks like I'll be eating rats for a while," he mumbled and walked over to the door.

The closed sign was up, but he could see a woman inside, locking up for the night. Her white button-up shirt was untucked from her black skirt and as he watched, she shook her brown hair out of a bun so it cascaded down her back.

Spike tapped on the door.

She turned to see him. "Sorry, we're closed!"

He held the $20s up to the door and gave her his best puppy dog look.

It obviously worked. She smiled a slightly flirtatious smile. "Can you make it quick? I'm supposed to meet some friends for a drink in twenty minutes."

"Sure. I already know what I want."

She unlocked the door and he stepped inside, blinded by the fluorescent lights.

"The ruby heart in the window," he told her.

"Excellent choice," she smiled at him a bit wistfully. She studied him as she placed the black velvet box in a plastic bag and rang up the purchase. "She's a lucky girl. Not many men buy jewelry for women unless it's Valentine's Day."

"It's for her birthday," Spike said as he handed her the bills.

"And did she tell you that's what she wanted?"

"No. I was just walking by and it reminded me of her."

"Lucky girl," the clerk said, giving him the eye. "If it doesn't work out, I'm here Mondays through Fridays. And I like your taste in jewelry."

He winked at her. "Thanks. I hope it works out though."

And it had really seemed as if it would work out. Buffy was back to shagging him again and even talking a bit after.

But then, the unfortunate night came where she'd believed she had killed a girl. She really acted as if she might need him to help her, like all she wanted was for him to climb through her window and kiss her and tell her everything would be all right.

"You are not throwing your life away over this," Spike said outside of the police station. They were fighting in the alley over Buffy's decision to turn herself in.

"It's not your choice."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"A girl is dead because of me."

"And how many people are alive because of you. How many have you saved? One girl doesn't tip the scale."

"That's all it is to you, isn't it? Just another body." Buffy attacked him with a series of blows. "You can't understand why this is killing me can you?"

"Explain it." He knew she was hurting; it was all piling up on her. This was just the last straw. She just needed to lash out at someone, anyone. He dodged her blows and took some, never taking his eyes off of hers and the pain in them. He could take the temporary pain of her blows if it would help her. "That's it. Put it on me. Put it all on me. That's my girl."

Buffy seemed to lose reason. "I am not your girl." She knocked him down and sat astride on him, punching him with every word. "You don't have a soul. There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside. You can't feel anything real. I could never be your girl."

Spike didn't care about the blows. He felt numb, not from the pain, but from her words. He loved her so much and thought that she must love him, deep down, but she just wouldn't let herself. She would leave him for good someday, go on with her life and he would still be there, lurking in the shadows, hating whoever was her latest fling. Because that was all anyone would be to her. The latest stopover.

Buffy had stopped hitting him. She looked horrified at what she'd done. Concern and fear crossed her expression. She looked as if she wanted to cry. Whether it was for him or her, he wasn't sure.

"You always hurt the one you love, pet," he said softly.

Buffy looked sick. She jumped up and ran off.

He struggled to get up. "Buffy," he croaked. She was gone. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the velvet box. He lie back on the pavement and held the box open, staring at it.

Weeks later, Spike's bruises were healing. He and Clem walked down the darkened streets.

"Are you sure your girlfriend's not going to be mad at me barging in on her party?" Clem asked nervously.

"Not as long as you don't call her my girlfriend."

Clem stared at him. "Let me get this straight Spike. You love her. You sleep with her. You help her slay our kind. But she's not your girlfriend?"

"Not according to her she's not."

"So she's using you."

"That's one way of putting it."

"That is not a healthy relationship Spike."

"What relationship is?"

"True. So are you giving her the necklace?"

They reached the door to her house. "We'll see," Spike said as they entered.

Buffy's party was in full swing. Buffy had ditched her would-be date and walked over to Spike and sat down by him.

"So, have you had a good birthday?" Spike asked. "Like your gifts?" He could feel the weight of the black velvet box against him.

"I guess. But a birthday is more about friends and family than gifts."

"Am I your friend?" he asked softly.

She looked down. "I don't know what you are."

"Your boyfriend?"

"You are not my boyfriend."

"Your lover?"

She blushed and then looked angry. "Why are you here anyway? No one invited you."

He was hurt, but tried not to show it. "Clem and I were in the neighborhood. Thought we'd stop by and I could give you a special present."

Buffy glared at him, taking this as a mention of sex again. "I don't want anything from you except for you to stay away from me." She got up and stormed off.

"But Buffy." He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the velvet box. He opened it and stared at the necklace….

He was still staring at it at the card table. It's beautiful red flame. What it represented to him. A real gift that a real boyfriend would give to a beautiful woman that he loved.

Clem, across the table from him, recognized the necklace. "Spike that's…"

"The Blood Heart, that's right Clem," Spike interrupted Clem, who shot him an odd look. "A very powerful talisman."

"I've never heard of it," said The Doctor.

Because it doesn't exist, Spike thought ruefully. "Well, the story is…there was a poor poet," he smiled at that. "A poor poet who was in love with a beautiful princess." He thought of Buffy, of her smile. How he loved to see that smile. "The poet finally got up his nerve to tell the princess of his love, daring to hope she might love him in return." He remembered that when he first told Buffy he loved her, she had been chained to his wall with Drusilla. Hardly the romantic setting. "And the princess was enchanted by the poet's words and made the poet believe she loved him." He still believed she might love him. The way she would look at him when he held her… "But the princess had many suitors and she couldn't believe a simple poet could ever provide for her or love her like she should be loved." How many times had Buffy told him that he could never love her? Like she was him and knew what he felt. "So she asked for indisputable proof of his love….and…. the poet ripped his heart out and gave it to her." If only there was something that simple to prove that he loved her. "But the princess sneered at the gift and the poet died cursing her." Like I will probably do at the end of her stake, he thought bitterly. "So this here talisman is made of the poet's heart. And it will drain the life out of whoever wears it." That's what she does to me, he thought. She drains all the me out of me until there is only her. And yet I love her.

"It looks like a ruby," The Doctor said.

"It's supposed to look like jewelry, you daft wanker!" Spike exploded. Clem looked on sympathetically, as if he had deduced whom the story was really about.

"Fine. You can play," The Doctor snarled.

Everyone picked up their cards. A slow smile spread on Spike's face as he saw what he held.

Later that night, he finished unloading his winnings into his crypt. He frowned at the demon eggs. Maybe he should just set fire to them or something. "Or maybe I'll give them to Buffy," he said out loud. "Maybe she'll accept some nasty demon eggs as a birthday gift."

The velvet box sat on a shelf next to Buffy's picture. The heart glittered in the darkness of the crypt.

"Instead of my heart."

The End