Part Three

After three pints of the red stuff Spike insisted he was well enough for the Slayer to crawl in beside him and return some of the comfort he'd offered her, without danger of 'aggravating his wounds.'

In honesty he wasn't sure how he could be so bold. Being open with her about how he felt left him vulnerable, and he hated it, but – ever love's bitch – he couldn't help himself.

"If you're sure," Buffy had replied, before climbing atop the covers.

'Oh, yeah,' he thought. 'Not just stupidity making me open. Also the fact that she responds to it.'

They were quiet for a bit. Comfortably so. That had surprised him – the ease with which they could just spend time together, not doing anything special. It meant the world to him – times like these.

"Here's the deal on the Hellgod," Buffy began, out of the blue, bringing him out of his reverie.

She told him everything. Well, everything she knew, which didn't amount to a lot, but she didn't hold back on the details. He'd risked his life – or, rather, unlife – to fight the beast, so he deserved to know why.

It was a hard pill to swallow – that they were about to begin a battle that not everyone was likely to survive. But he was willing to stand with her in the fight. Willing to risk anything for the Slayer or the little Bit, though he wasn't truly sure where the protective instinct she engendered within him had come from, or when. Truth was he loved the girl like a sister. Loved their mom, too.

'Goin' soft,' he thought, in chastisement of himself. Though he feared he'd never truly been hard in the first place. Not like Angelus. Nowhere near as vicious as Angelus, even at his worst.

Not for the first time the Vampire considered he'd been made wrong, but for once the thought didn't really bother him. Why would it, when it meant he had a shot at sharing a bed with such a glorious creature as Buffy Summers? For her he'd don as many white hats as the Powers that Be could fit on his skull. But he was getting caught up in his thoughts again. All his intentions would be irrelevant if they didn't beat Glory and survive the year.

"I'll be with you in this," he stated, "If you want me."

"I do," Buffy told him, in a tone that implied there were many layers to her response.

"Buffy, I-" the Vampire began, but she cut him off with a brief shake of her head.

"I'm scared you'll get hurt," she admitted. "So scared." Once more it was obvious her words could be taken in different ways. Spike simply nodded.

She was on her way again, after that.

"I've got class, but I'll call in later."

"Sure thing," he replied.

Somehow the night had slipped away from them, and he hadn't even noticed the time pass. The instant she was gone, he longed for her warmth.

Rolling over, onto the pillow she'd been leaning on, to inhale her scent, he gasped in the pain of movement.

Over the following two days Buffy continued to nurse the Vampire she'd grown attached to back to health. Not once had he complained about the beating he'd taken, and it had all been for her.

Once during that time, when she'd been sat in bed beside him, he'd said, "I'm not gonna ask you what you feel for me. Not gonna push my luck. But… but I think it's fair to say you feel somethin', right?"

Buffy had nodded.

"And it's not just pity?"

There was more nodding, and a pained expression, from the Slayer.

"Jus' tell me if I shouldn't get my hopes up. Warn me now if it's nothin' more than friendship."

"Your hopes are safe," Buffy told him, with a shy smile. Spike was in awe of her. They were so close, physically, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to close the remaining gap and kiss her. As he sat there thinking on it, though, she did just that. A single, brief, kiss. And then she resumed holding him, and they went back to not talking about it.

When he was back on his feet they went back to him visiting her.

Finding her perched on her porch steps, one day the following week, Spike eased himself down beside her. "Makin' a habbit of this," he said.

"Yeah," she agreed, with a small smile.

Buffy hadn't been crying, that time, but that didn't mean her Vampire assumed all was well. He knew her better than that.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

She gave a shrug then said, "Riley left town today."

"How're you feelin' 'bout that?"

"Honestly? Kinda not feeling anything. Which is good. Definite goodness. So don't want a re-run of Angel's exit inducing grief."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, awkwardly. His grandsire and her ex-lover was another thing they'd silently decided not to discuss.

Another three days passed. Their encounters were becoming more frequent, and much more obvious. Every time Spike came by the house Dawn and Joyce would share a look, and he pretended not to notice.

"Yer eldest home?" he would ask the lady.

"She's right upstairs," she'd always tell him, as if he didn't know.

This day was different, though. The Vampire had a grave expression, and he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He went upstairs without a word, and the look Dawn and Joyce shared shifted to one of confusion and concern.

"Slayer?" Spike asked, standing outside Buffy's bedroom door.

"Come in," she replied. "And use my name!"

He entered, but didn't say anything. Just took a seat on the edge of the bed – the furthest he could be from where Buffy was sat painting her nails.

She stopped, immediately, and screwed the lid back on the bottle.

"What's wrong?"

Spike turned to look at the love of his life with such agony in his eyes that she actually thought he might burst into tears.

"God, Spike, what happened?"

He broke her gaze, and said to the floor, "I don't think you're going to forgive me."

All Buffy's Slayer senses went into overdrive. She waited for further explanation, which took a while, but finally Spike continued by saying, "Dru came back to town, today."

Buffy gasped. Why did it feel like she'd been here before? Was he going to break up with her? Leave her? Had he cheated?! She shook her head, knowing everything swimming around it was irrational. After all, they weren't even officially a couple. He'd been with Drusilla for over a hundred years. What stake did she have in him that could come anywhere close to that? He loved her, sure, but he'd loved his sire first. First love was powerful. If Angel changed his mind and came back to her she'd do it, right? Well, no. Now she wasn't so sure. They'd both changed so much, and now she was in lo- now she had feelings for Spike. And why was he being so quiet?

After an eternity of silence from her end, Buffy had the courage to ask, "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry," was all the answer she got.

"Tell me!" she demanded, loudly, before lowering her voice to a whisper to add, "Please."

Hesitantly, Spike recanted his tale.

"Dru came back," he began again. "I told her to shove off, right? But she talks me into going out – jus' for a drink. So we're at the Bronze when this Hell-bint shows up, and before I can even think about clearing people out – poof. She's transformed into some human boy. I turned to Dru, to find her eyeing up some couple she wanted to chow down on. And I had an idea."

"Yeah?" Buffy prompted.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Spike, what happened?!"

"I told Dru to kill the boy."

Buffy's face was blank, then it curled up in confusion. "Huh?"

"The boy – one sharin' a body with Glory – Dru killed him for me."

"And now, what? You think you've done me a favor and you're gonna go back with her?"

"What? No, Buffy, I'm not going anywhere. I mean, I will – if you want. But not with Dru. I'm telling you I got a guy killed!"

"A guy that was sharing a body with Glory?"

"Yes."

Buffy went silent again - long enough for Spike to get up and leave. He couldn't bear for her to actually say the words herself – that he was no longer welcome there. The girl was so lost in her thoughts and feelings that she hadn't really registered that he'd gone. On some subconscious level she assumed he was away for a smoke and would come back. But he didn't.

She went after him.

At his crypt she called his name, but he didn't reply. She sensed him below, so she went down the ladder. Back on her feet she looked at him. He returned her gaze and said nothing.

"Jerk," she finally blurted out, but again there was no response. "Hey, I called you a jerk!"

"Not arguin', pet."

The Slayer let out a sigh and tried a new tactic to get the conversation rolling.

"Do you realize what you did today?"

"Yeah, an' I'd do it again. Know that's not what you wanna here. An' I know I said I was sorry – but I'm only sorry that it hurt you. I think-"

"Shut up," Buffy told him, as she walked closer to where he was laid. "What you did was turn down a chance to get back with someone you loved, a chance to give in to your true nature. What you did was save me and my sister from a lot of danger, even though you thought you'd end up being punished for it."

Spike was looking at her intently – trying to read her eyes.

"Was I wrong?" he asked.

"You shouldn't have walked out, earlier," was all Buffy told him, in reply. "That kinda made you a jerk."

She got closer again, and opened her arms to him. "I'd like comfort now."

Not really understanding what was happening between them, Spike granted the request and pulled her against his chest.

She held him tight, and whispered a heartfelt "Thank you," in his ear.

"So I get to comfort you even when I'm the bastard that's made you upset?" he asked.

"Duh," she replied. "Who else is gonna do it?"

He smiled, and pulled back a little to look her in the eye again. "You're really not mad at me?"

"No," she replied. "It was a crappy thing to do, but it needed to be done, I guess. Sometimes situations only leave us the option in choosing between the lesser of two evils."

In awe of how wise and mature she was, and heartbroken at all the griefs she'd had to suffer in order to make her that way, Spike kissed her. She kissed back, and rolled them onto the bed.

"What are we-" he began to ask.

"Ssshh," she replied, nipping at his throat.

He groaned at the sensation, and she pulled back a bit.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"I love you."

"Bloody hell, woman!" he exclaimed, while fervently laying kisses all over her face and neck. "Love you so much!"

"Show me," she requested – giving him a look that expressed exactly what she meant.

And he did. And that's how they got together – never again to be parted.

The End.