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Buffy curved her arms under her cheek as she gazed at the wall of her room with Spike's house. They had been here since their escape from the Initiative; she vaguely remembered the journey to their temporary abode, a mansion Spike owned on the outskirts of a town a few miles away from Sunnydale. Spike had carried her into the mansion with such tenderness; she had almost forgotten he was a vampire without soul. Of course, after what had happened, she was questioning whether a soul or lack thereof truly defined whether someone was good or evil.

They had been at the mansion for almost two weeks now, leaving Sunnydale quietly and quickly, only making a quick stop at her home to grab some essentials. Since arriving there, Buffy had spent most of her time in bed, sleeping and resting. The drugs in her system had not been flushed out, and Spike had guessed she would not be open to the idea of him sucking out the poison so to speak. She hated feeling the way she was, weak and powerless. If she had her Slayer healing, she would have been back on her feet within a couple days. Yet here she was bedridden, still feeling the pain in her muscles from the various tests that had been run on her.

She sighed, thinking about the journey from home. She had been quite out of it when Spike and pulled up outside her home. But she could somewhat recall the conversation between Spike and her mother that day.

Two weeks earlier.

Buffy's mind slowly took in her surroundings even as her eyes remained closed as the car drew a stop. Her body was too spent to allow her to wake up but her mind was alert to what was going on. Caught in between sleep and awake, she listened to the sounds of Spike getting out of the car and walking away a short distance. She heard him knock on a door once, then a few moments of silence. He knocked again, louder and more insistent before a muffled voice called back. A voice she recognised.

Her mother!

The door open and she heard her mother's voice greet Spike in shock, though she could not quite make out the words. For a moment, the two conversed and then quietened down; she assumed Joyce had invited Spike inside. There was quiet outside, only the wind whispering through the night sky. She wondered why Spike had not taken her into her house. Why was she still in the car, curled up in his duster?

Spike and Joyce's respective voices came back within hearing, it sounded like they were arguing and soon she felt as well as heard the backdoor to the car open. A sound of bags being laid on the backseat greeted her ears for a few moments before the door shut again. Now, finally, she could make out the conversation.

"I have to get her outta here, Joyce." Spike was saying, his voice firm, apologetic but firm. "It was bloody chaos when I got her outta that place, but you can be damn sure they'll be after us soon."

"She needs to get better, Spike!" Joyce snapped. Buffy could easily picture her with her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing. "She can stay here, we'll keep her hidden."

"Her staying here is more dangerous than me bloody taking her out of Sunnyhell." He answered, shortly. "I'm not gonna take the chance that her being here puts you in danger too."

"She's my daughter!" Joyce shouted her voice cracking.

"I know! That's why I told you I was getting her out of here, instead of just whisking her off!" Spike shouted back. After a tense silence, he spoke again, voice softer. "Joyce, she stays here and not only will she probably get caught again, they'll probably take you too." No, not that! Anything but that, Buffy thought to herself. "And the Slayer will never forgive herself if they put you through what she had to endure." Buffy silently agreed with Spike, her mother would never survive it. After a few moments, Joyce answered him, quiet but resolute.

"Where will you take her?" She asked voice shaky with tears she refused to let out.

"I have a few houses on this side of the States." Spike replied. "I'll take her to one and make sure she gets better." Joyce sniffled.

"How long?" Buffy heard Spike sigh unnecessarily and knew that he was about to be brutally honest with her mother.

"I don't know, Joyce." He muttered. "Whatever they did to her…it's messing with her Slayer powers. There are all kinds of drugs in her system; they must've been pumping the stuff into her constantly." He took a breath, a soft growl breaking through. "I don't know how long it'll take, but she'll get better. And when she is, we'll be back." There was another tense silence as Joyce was obviously thinking about what he was saying.

"Okay." Buffy sighed in relief. She had hoped that her mother would see the sense in Spike's argument and let them go. The Initiative with just find her again if they stayed in Sunnydale and she had no idea how long she would be out of commission.

"We'll see you soon, Joyce." The driver's side door to the car opened and she heard Spike slip into the car. The car engine came to life and the vehicle got ready to move.

"Spike…" Joyce said, closer this time, obviously leaning down into the car. Buffy could feel her mother's eyes on her and she felt the warmth only a parent's gaze could invoke envelop her for a moment. "You take care of my Buffy. You hear me?" She could hear the threat in her mum's voice but it was Spike's answer that shocked her. An answer she never expected to hear, at least not from him.

"I will, I promise." After those words, the car shuddered and then began to move away, leaving Joyce standing on the sidewalk, cheeks wet from her tears.

Buffy thought back to that moment, the words 'I promise' that Spike had given her mother, echoing through her mind. It was not so much the words but the way he had said them at the time. There was such sincerity behind them that even she believed them. She sighed, confusion warring within her.

Whilst she had an unspoken, and grudgingly, large amount respect for Spike as a warrior, she had had always thought of him as another vampire on her slay list. They were enemies; some would say mortal enemies, being a Slayer and a master vampire. But he had promised, promised, her mother that he would keep her safe and bring her back. And she actually believed him when he said that. Buffy herself believed Spike would do everything in his power to get her back on her feet, and probably better than that.

And this was the cause of the conflict in her mind. Why would a soulless vampire, whose mission upon arriving in Sunnydale was to kill her, make such a heartfelt promise? Of course perhaps that question was moot; as Spike had shown in the past he was honourable as a fighter and as a man, though Buffy had been reluctant to admit it. He had helped her against Angel and kept Drusilla away from Sunnydale. And he had never gone after her friends or family, she was his sole target and he had always sought her out without resorting to underhanded methods.

All of her Slayer training was telling her how wrong it was for a being without a soul to have any form of decency. But Spike did and had more of it that some humans it seemed. Buffy shuddered at that, her mind unintentionally wandering back to what exactly Spike had saved her from: men with souls who showed nothing but glee at her weakness and suffering.

A soft knock at her door made her jump slightly and she turned to look over her shoulder as the door opened, and the vampire in question stepped in. He was carrying a tray, filled with some tasty looking food: it had to be one of the most delicious looking omelettes she had ever seen with a glass of orange juice as well. She giggled quietly at the thought of him cooking, causing him to frown.

"What's funny, pet?" he asked. She smiled, carefully pushing herself up so she was resting against the head of bed.

"Nothing…just a vampire who cooks?" She asked, bringing up a small recurring joke that had quickly risen from this fact. He smirked at her.

"Tell no-one." She zipped her lips with a small smile as he set the tray in front of her and sat down on the chair he pulled up next to the bed. It was still surreal how she had quickly fallen into a strange camaraderie with Spike, not quite friends but coming close. "How're you feeling?" She shrugged.

"Same as usual, weak but getting there." She eyed the food dubiously. "And not sure I can eat all of this." She smiled softly as his eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, "but I'm gonna try." He smiled as she picked up her knife and fork to cut into the omelette.

"You'll get better, once those drugs are completely outta your system, you'll be right as rain." She snorted, as she took a bite. She and Spike had come to the conclusion that the combination of so many different drugs in her system was hampering her slayer abilities, more so than just one would have done. It was similar to how mixing medication could mess with a normal person's body only amplified.

"And how long will that take?" He sighed, unsure how to deal with this. The Buffy he remembered was strong, sassy and confident, unafraid to stand up to a vampire as powerful as himself or Angelus, all the while throwing out witty one-liners. This cynical and desolate Buffy was unfounded territory and he was unsure how to proceed. "They were dumping more and more of those damn things in me every day. I don't know where one ends and the other begins, but I do know, they've made me as weak as a fucking mouse!" She hurled the glass of orange juice across the room, Spike calmly shifting his head so it missed. It smashed against the wall, leaving trails of juice to trickle down to the carpet. He glanced at it before looking back at her. "I hate this!" She snapped, folding her arms. "If I had my Slayer strength back that would've gone through the damn wall!"

"You're angry, good." She paused, looking at Spike in confusion. "Stay angry, use it to push you into healing and then you can kick the Initiative's sorry arse back to where they came from." She blinked at him. "Anger is power, Slayer. Use it." She gazed at him, not sure what to say. "Eat some more and then get some more sleep." Spike instructed as he stood up and went to leave the room. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Just call." Buffy watched him as he reached the door, having enough of his mysterious hero routine.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, finally plucking up the courage to ask the question that had been hounding her this entire time. He stopped, but did not turn around.

"Made a promise to your mum, didn't I?" Buffy huffed, moving the tray of food from her lap to the chair he had previously occupied before re-folding her arms.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." She barked, in annoyance. "Why did you save me?" He tensed up as she spoke. "You broke me out of the Initiative prison and brought me here to fix me up, why? Why would you of all people, save me from that place?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He returned. She growled in exasperation.

"Hello? Me, Slayer. You, vampire. Kinda mortal enemies here." She waved her hands between them as she spoke. "Why make with the rescuing when you should want to kill me more than men did in the facility?" Spike growled, a true animalistic growl causing her to tense up.

"What those men wanted to do was rape you, Summers." She choked at that, Spike's usual bluntness hitting her right where it hurt. "And if there is one thing I hate, it's someone who has to force themselves on another person to make themselves feel strong." He turned to her, regarding her coolly as she looked at him, eyes swimming at his words. They gazed at each silently for a long moment, both of them silent for different reasons: Buffy waiting for his answer to her question and Spike trying to formulate his answer.

"I've done a lot of bad things in my life, Buffy." Spike said, softly walking towards the bed. "But there are three things I've never done." He sat on the bed, his eyes cold as she watched him. "One: I've never killed or eaten a child as a vampire." She listened intently. "Two: I've never killed for the sake of killing. Sure, I like a good brawl, but killing," He shook his head, "it was never about the kill, it was always about the rush and the crunch." He leaned towards her, so their eyes were locked. "And third: I've never, ever forced myself on a woman who didn't want it." He let that sink in before he finished. "No matter how hard Angelus or Angel tried to make me." She cringed at that, she still did not know everything about Angel's past and sometimes what she found out shocked her to the core. "I saved you from those men because if there is anyone in the world who shouldn't be put through that, it's you."

She stared at him in amazement. His answer was so blunt and honest that she had no choice but to believe it. She actually believed he was being genuine, which only served to further her confusion about him.

"That answer your question?" He finished. She shook her head.

"It answers one of them." She muttered. "Here's another one, what are you doing back in Sunnydale again?" He froze up at that before looking away. "You swore you would stay away with Drusilla, so why are you back?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that, Buffy." He admitted, she tilted her head watching him inquisitively.

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid of what the answer might mean." She raised her head, his tone was haunted and his eyes were far away, almost as if he was looking for answer in something that only he could see. Still, her early anger returned this time aimed at him.

"Spike, seriously, I'm not in the mood for you avoiding the subject." She snapped.

"I'm not avoiding the subject; I'm trying to think of a way to explain it." He replied. For a few moments, he remained silent as she waited impatiently. Finally, he took a deep unnecessary breath. "At first, I did what I swore to you I would do, I took Dru away and planned to stay away." He licked his lips, shaking his head slightly. "Dru was right pissed at me for helping you out too, especially about putting 'her daddy's' soul back in him. She made no secret of the fact she began sleeping around, just to get back at me…" Buffy cut him off irritated by the story.

"Seriously, if this is a sob story about Drusilla…"

"Let me finish, Slayer and maybe I'll get to the point." His harsh tone made her keep quiet. She sensed anger and even a bit sadness in his voice and so let him go on. "Then one day, she turned around to me and said, 'My prince is bathed in the sunshine, it will turn him to ash.'" He snorted quietly. "Normally I'm good with Drusilla's prophecy speak, but that one threw me for loop. I asked at her what she meant, but she kept saying, 'Sunshine will not have my prince, it took my daddy, it won't have my prince.'" Spiked sighed.

"What was she talking about it?" Buffy asked, quietly. Her tone had lost its bite as she realised this was something deeply personal for Spike.

"You." Buffy's eyes widened as she stared at him in shock. Her? What about her? "Yeah, that's the look I had on my face when she said that too." He chuckled, ruefully. "Like I said, I didn't get it at first, I told her as such, but she kept going on and on about you being 'the sunshine that has corrupted her prince.'" He shook his head. "And then…she just turned around and said she'd save me by 'extinguishing the sun.'"

"What does that even mean?" Buffy demanded her voice a shocked whisper. "I get it, I mean me Slayer, you vampire usually ends in stake-age." He shook his head.

"No, it wasn't about you dusting me, luv." He returned, quietly. "She wanted to kill you, because you were turning me away from her." Buffy let out a shaky breath, eyes wide once again as she took in the vampire before her, whose eyes met hers with a bemused at first.

"I don't remember what happened next, but suddenly I was standing over her ashes, with a stake in my hand." Buffy watched him, flabbergasted at the whole thing.

He had killed his sire, his lover because Drusilla had threatened her. She could not comprehend that. Spike had been almost single-minded in his quest to keep Dru alive and even surrendered to Buffy on one occasion because she threatened Drusilla. But he had killed her, actually killed her, over a threat.

"You killed because she threatened me?" She questioned softly, still in shock.

"Yeah."

"Why?" He shrugged, with a helplessly quiet laugh.

"Don't know, just know that I did." Spike had a confused smirk on his face as he took Buffy's shocked expression. "Apparently, Dru thought I developed something towards you. I don't know what exactly, but there it is." Buffy shook her head.

"But we've beaten the crap out of each other, pretty much every time we've met." She managed, through her astonishment. "How does something develop from that?" She asked, incredulously. Spike smiled a smile that displayed some of the wisdom that was hidden under the bleach and attitude.

"Sometimes fighting someone is the only way you get to know them." He reasoned. "Ask yourself how much you learned about me from each of our fights." Buffy frowned, thinking back to those fights as Spike went on. "As for how something developed? I don't know, but something did and it was clearly enough that I killed Drusilla because of it." Buffy swallowed her mind in complete overload from all of this. This was too much, just way too much.

"Spike…"

"Look, I don't expect anything, Buffy." He said, possibly trying to comfort her. "I never did, but I came back just so I could watch you." Then his lip curled in a one-sided smile. "And it looks like it's a good thing I did." Buffy remained silent, her mind still processing everything as he stood and made his way to the door. "I'll leave you to it, pet. Confused you enough for one night." He reached the door and pulled it open.

"Spike?" He turned to her, holding the door open.

"Yeah?" Buffy eyed him, her head tilted.

"Are you sure you're evil?" He had come back to Sunnydale for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on her, regardless of whether she wanted him to or not. It was selfless: he expected nothing but gave everything…even his sire. How could someone who was supposed to be evil be that selfless? Spike chuckled.

"What is evil, Buffy?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is it a state of being…or simply a choice?" With that final riddle, Spike stepped out of the room and closed the door with a quiet click, leaving the confused Slayer to her thoughts.

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