A.N. - Next chapter coming at you. This ones for you xXriujooXx (ok ok since you are the only one I know is loving this, they are pretty much all for you =D) Enjoy!

All of these amazingly complex characters belong to Joss sigh

She was in the middle of the desert somewhere, watching a small figure huddle up against a cave wall. "Spike." she mouthed, waking towards him. His face was contorted in pain, and he was clawing at himself. "Out," he muttered, tearing into his flesh, skin scraping against now dull fingernails. "OUT!" he cried, bashing his head against the rock wall behind him. She instinctively reached out to touch him, to make him stop, letting out a soft sigh as her fingers passed through him. "Doesn't fit, too tight, hot, burns." he is mumbling incoherently, words lost as he drops his head to his knees and sobs. Buffy chokes back a sob herself, staring at the wrecked man in front of her. "Shouldn't touch, don't touch...not right." he has lifted his head and she can see the tears gleaming as they run down his face. "Don't have permission, can't be here.." he brakes off, grasping for a rock. "I'm sorry Buffy." he states his eyes clear of madness for a second as he plunges the rock into the already jagged tears by his heart. "Spike, don't!" she screams, futilely reaching for him.

Her hands close on air as she is greeted by silence. She looks around, she is in a church, the only thing she can make out is an ivory silhouette draped across the crucifix. When she watched him before, she could only cry silently, waiting a moment to long before she pull the tortured being from his torment. Now...now she could see his face, peaceful, and calm. It was poetry of sorts watching this man, this creature with nothing but innocence on his lovely face. "Can we rest now Buffy?" She was speechless then...she was speechless now.

His back was turned from her as he ranted. "Don't need anyone to take care of me, I've done a'ight by myself." Buffy scoffed, taking in his surrounding. "Alright? Spike your living in a basement, eating rats..." she paused looking him over. "And don't even get me started on the smell." It was one of the many conversation that she had had with Spike about leaving the crazy making basement. "Oi!" he yelped suddenly, turning to face her. "I do NOT smell." She scrunched up her nose to get across the point. "You really, REALLY do." He smiled briefly at her teasing, before remembering the injustice he had done to her. She catches his expression, suddenly stoic. "You need to leave Spike, I'll find you somewhere to stay, just get up and come with me." her humor is gone, the camaraderie replaced by a hardened shell. He is fighting to stay in this moment with her...losing as another Buffy is talking to him softly. She sees the glaze in his eyes, shakes her head in disgust and leaves.

She hadn't tried to touch him, not once since he had been in her house. But as she watched him thrash in pain on his cot, she wanted to comfort him. He bolted up, eyes darting back and forth as he glanced around. Suddenly he took an unneeded breath, sighing as he ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Buffy, what are you doing here?" "Watching you." "Right. See anything interesting?" "Just wanted to make sure you were okay..." she broke off, taking note of the indenting red rings on his wrists from the chains. "Sounded like you were struggling." He look abashed as he gave a half shrug. "Yeah, just bad dreams...I'm fine now." She tilted her head at him. "You don't look fine." He met her earnest stare, touched at the softness in them. She broke contact, shying away from the spark that fizzled between them. "Sorry. I'll try to keep down the racket." "That'd be good." A minute passed as they shared amicable silence. He looked like he was going to say something else, but a shrill "Buffy!" could be heard upstairs. "I have to..." "Right then. No worries. Off you go." "Okay." She swallowed, wanting to say something...anything that might be of some solace to him. She settled for silence as she left him alone.

"You're the one Buffy." his voice was sure and true. Nothing but honesty in it. "I don't want to be the one." hers was small and lost. Weary and afraid. He had joked then, making some egotistical remark that made her chuckle and she had fallen. Head over heels in love with the vampire who sat in front of her. She hadn't said it then, had only begged him to stay, to hold her. And he had done so, cradling her against his unbeating heart as if she were the only precious thing left in the world. "Spike I wanted to," "Don't." his chest rumbled underneath her as his grip tightened. She had wanted to thank him, wanted to express how much this meant to her. Instead she left him to wake up in empty bed. The Slayer's job was never done.

She was surprised when he flinched. "Spike? What is it?" "Nothing." he assured her quickly, rolling away in the process. She pulled him back towards her, fingers clamped on his arm. "No... you have something face." He shrugged her off of him. "It's nothing, just tired is all. Big day tomorrow." "Yeah, well most apocalypses go down in my books as a big day, but you are avoiding the question." "Am not." "Yes you are, you are being all avoidy." "I'm not being avoidy." he said slightly irritated. "When exactly are you going to stop making up words anyway?" She playful slugged his arm. "Shut up."and leaned in to kiss him. She was met with a shoulder. "Okay." she stated, knitting her eyebrows together. "What the hell is going on?" "Nothing." "Bullshit!" she yelled, shoving him. "Hey! Easy there Summers, not all of us are as strong as you." He tried to joke, to take the tension away from the moment. It didn't work. "Why won't you let me kiss you?" she cried as he tried to feign indifference. "Can't we just go to sleep?" "No! Not until you answer me!" she was getting upset now, fighting to keep her tone level. He bowed his head. "Do you really have to ask?" he whispered softly. She touched his arm gently. He tensed beneath her. "That's all in the past Spike."

His eyes met hers fiercely. "Bullocks!" he growled, pushing her away from him. "Spike," she tried, gently this time as he whirled on her. "Don't you get it?" he yelled, fighting back the bile rising in his throat. "I can't touch you! Not like that...not after..." he broke, hands gripped so tight that his knuckles turned white. His voice dropped, barely more than a disgusted sigh. "I could never," She gripped one hand, as he met her face. "Spike, it's okay." He scoffed at her, pulling his hands back into his lap. "No, Buffy, it's not okay...these hands... God what I have done with these bloody hands." He held them up to his face. "They will never be clean." She sighed, taking the aforementioned hands in her own. "These hands held me close and gave me strength that I desperately needed. These are the hands of a good man." He looked at her shocked, trying to keep his composure as she leaned in to kiss each digit. "Buffy, love...I can't touch you. I buggered that all up. I just can't." She smiled tenderly at him fingers flitting over his chest. "Okay Spike, you don't have to touch me." He looked immensely relieved as she rested her forehead on his chest. "Thank you pet." She played with the curls at the back of his neck, gazing up at him with naked adoration. "This time...I will touch you." It was the last thing she said to him before they made love for the first time.

A.N. - Soooo...what did you think? This is how the last night with Spike should have went.( in my opinion only) Well..let me know what you think:)