Joyce flipped the switch on the gallery's stylized open sign. It had been a commissioned piece from a local artist who worked with glass pieces for light accented sculptures. The brilliantly colored light died and she turned in the dimmed store towards the front door. It was her normal routine. Every night after turning off the sign, she would lock the front door before heading to her office. Some nights she would stay in her private space to review sales sheets and prospective arts submission. Other nights, she just grabbed her purse and keys and headed home through the back door where her car was parked in the small private lot.

Tonight was supposed to be one of those short nights. She didn't have any paperwork or portfolios to review. She had met with a new artist that morning and he signed a contract for her to feature some paintings for commission. Her keys were in her hand as she exited her office. She squeaked and dropped them when she encountered an unexpected and dark shadow in the hall. A pale hand snatched the keys from the air before they clattered to the ground.

"'Lo Joyce," Spike greeted as he held out the key collection to its owner. The dimmed hallway prevented her from seeing the charming smile she knew that he was sporting. She reflexively smiled in return. Despite her reservation, Joyce wasn't immune to the good looking vampire. She appreciated his wit and carriage even if she didn't like him dating her daughter.

"Good heavens, Spike," the gallery owner scolded lightly as she clenched her hand against her chest in response to her surging adrenaline. Although she had never felt threatened by the blonde vampire, she hadn't expected anyone to join her in the supposedly empty gallery. "You practically scared the life out of me."

Spike smirked.

"Well, least I can still scare someone," he shared while dropping his offering into Joyce's hand. She offered him another genuine smile as she closed her office door. She knew how much the vampire resented the chip in his head and she found his attitude a bit amusing.

"Buffy wasn't here today," Joyce stated. She figured that the vampire had come to the gallery in hopes of seeing her daughter. Since she hadn't made plans for him to work this evening either, his arrival had come as a complete shock.

"I know," he replied. "She was at University today. I have plans to meet her tonight for patrol."

"I was actually hoping to steal some of your time. I'm thinkin' there's some important information that was never properly shared with you," the vampire explained. William had spent a good part of the day trying to figure out if this was the right thing to do. It had kept him from sleeping properly and had made him a bit jumpy. He hoped that discussing his concerns with the Slayer's mother would help relieve some of his tension.

Perplexed, Joyce reopened her office door and motioned Spike into the room. If the vampire needed to tell her something important, they might as well be comfortable for the discussion.

She delicately sat behind her desk while Spike sprawled in one of the two utility chairs she kept in the room so that employees and vendors had somewhere to sit while they addressed business. She had a separate and more elegantly decorated meeting room for prospective artist or client meetings.

Utterly amazed at how much space the average sized vampire could take up in her small office, Joyce turned on her desk lamp and waited expectantly for her unexpected visitor to share his important news. She didn't need to wait long.

"You have a right amazing daughter, Joyce," he stated.

She nodded. Joyce had always thought Buffy was something special. Whether she was skating in kiddy competitions, cheering at junior high basketball games or playing make believe with her cousin, Buffy had always captured her mother's attention and affection. She had been the child other mothers wished they had. At least that was how it had been until Buffy was called as the Slayer. Then it was like her perfect little girl was replaced with a pod child who did nothing but cause trouble and strife. In retrospect, Joyce realized that her daughter hadn't meant to be a problem child. She was just forced into a horrible situation by some horrible force who couldn't appreciate Buffy's special potential.

"She's amazing. Special," the vamp emphasized. Spike's thoughts mirrored his companion's musing. Despite the parallel in feeling, he firmly believed that Joyce didn't fully appreciate Buffy's potential.

Again, Joyce nodded. She fully agreed and wondered when Spike would get to the point.

"She's the Slayer."

This statement seemed to carry extra weight in his voice although Joyce didn't understand why Spike was placing so much stress on the point. She knew Buffy was a Slayer. She didn't like it but she had accepted the fact.

"I know," Joyce stated.

Spike clicked his tongue and shook his head a few times.

"Don't think you actually do. Or at least you don't understand what being the Slayer actually means."

"I know it means she spends her nights staking vampires and killing demons when she should be studying or socializing," Joyce stated indignantly. The gallery owner was slightly offended at her vampire visitor intimating that she didn't understand her daughter or her calling.

"Very true but its a bit more than that. Slayers are more than their strength and speed and ability to stake a vamp. There is something special in them that makes them Chosen. Sets them apart. There's something like six billion people on the planet. Half meet the main criteria of being a slayer. Out of all those females, billions of 'em, Joyce, your daughter was Chosen."

"Whatever that special thing is inside Buffy, it makes her unique. Even among slayers she stands out. She is utterly amazing. Don't think you realize just how unique she is."

"Did you know that your daughter is one of the oldest Slayers in over a century? Only two other Slayers lasted past the age of twenty in all that time. Course, the one might'a lasted a bit longer still if she hadn't crossed my path but that's not the point. Real point is that even among slayers, Buffy is something special."

Horrified by the disturbing fact about slayer mortality that Spike refused to sugar-coat, Joyce stared at the vampire. No one had every blatantly shoved her daughter's impending and inevitable demise into her face. She had perfected the art of repression in regards to her daughter's calling. She hated that Spike wasn't allowing her to keep living in her fantasy world. It was a hard pill to swallow and Joyce choked on the thought of her daughter's death.

"Only two?"

Spike nodded.

"Yes, Joyce. Only two. Slayers have short, violent lives and nothing, I mean, nothing about those lives are normal."

Joyce bristled as she informed Spike that her daughter deserved a normal life.

Spike shook his head sadly. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be normal. It was beyond boring. He had been normal once but hadn't really been alive until he died. Only then did life become extraordinary.

"So you say but that ain't the way it worked out. She isn't normal and normal isn't gonna work for her."

Out of sheer stubbornness, Joyce's chin tipped up defiantly. She refused to accept that Buffy wasn't able to have all the things Joyce envisioned for her future.

Spike clicked his tongue and shook his head slightly.

"Joyce, you are living in fantasy land. Wake up and face the facts. Buffy isn't gonna graduate with some meaningful degree, find the perfect job and the perfect man, do the whole white wedding, pop out a couple bits and own the whole picket fence lifestyle. She's humoring you and herself by going to college. She already has a job and she isn't gonna get an early retirement or pension plan."

"Buffy is the Slayer until she dies and slayers don't get a real chance at all the amenities. They can't. Husbands and kiddies are weaknesses. Easy targets for all the beasties."

"But..."

Spike rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why the Slayer's mother was so insistent on ignoring the truth. She was an intelligent woman. It made no logical sense the she couldn't comprehend the concept. The whole matter made his head spin in confusion.

"How long you think a slayer's sprog would last if Angelus took an interest in that slayer? Hmm? Lots of vamps and demons out there that would love a chance to mentally shatter a slayer so it's easier to shatter their bodies. For that matter, how long do you think a slayer with a bun in the oven would last on patrol? Doubt it's easy to stake a vamp when you can barely waddle to the bathroom. The Watcher's Council would definitely take measures against a Slayer seeking maternity leave. Someone needs to protect world and it sure as hell isn't gonna be them."

Joyce pressed her shaking hands tightly together in her lap. She stared at her nails and fleetingly wondered if she should have a manicure. She flinched when she realized her mind was hiding from the facts being presented. She frowned as she considered the accusation that she was hiding from the truth of her daughter's life. She shied from the possibility. She wasn't ready to surrender her dreams. Even if Buffy didn't share them, Joyce still wanted what she wanted for her girl.

"You are only telling me this because you want me to accept your relationship with Buffy. Because you can't give her the things she needs."

Spike sighed.

"Would be nice but I don't really need your permission."

Joyce's spine straightened.

"You're too old for her."

Spike snorted. He covered his unexpected smile with his hand until he regained control of his amusement. Joyce did not appreciate his dismissal of her concern but he offered no rebuttal. It wasn't like he was going to admit to being a mere babe in a cradle compared to her daughter at this point.

Resolved to make her point any way possible, Joyce jumped to her next argument.

"I can't approve. You and Buffy are from two different worlds."

"You're wrong," Spike replied evenly as he shook his head sadly. Shifting from his comfortable sprawl, the vampire sat forward until his face was illuminated by the desk lamp. Bones shifted. His eyes changed color and his smile turned predatory. Joyce shivered and cringed from the frightening display. She spent so much time around Spike in his handsome human guise that it was easy to forget his scary side. "I'm one-a the things that goes bump in the night. You daughter hunts us. We live in the same world."

Spike shook away his game face.

"You're the one from a different world than Buffy. You can hide from it all you want but it doesn't change the facts."

He stood. With his hands in his duster pockets, he rolled back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. He waited for Joyce to respond. Although she didn't reply of agree, he noticed her shoulders lower slightly. It might not have been a surrender but he figured she was at least considering the facts. He waited a moment longer in the quiet before sweeping his hand towards the door.

"Come on, Joyce. Allow me to walk you to your car. It's dark. Don't want you meeting with something nasty in the dark."

She switched off her desk lamp and followed the vampire into the dark hallway.

"It's not that I don't like you, William," she offered in an attempt to put out the fire on the burning bridge between them.

Spike stopped to open the back door. He offered her a cocky grin even though it wasn't really how he was feeling.

"Course you do. I'm a right likable fellow."

Joyce smiled softly in return. She reached out and grasp his forearm.

"I just... I want so much for her."

"I know. Just maybe, you should find out what she wants for herself."

Joyce shook her head.

"That would be you," she muttered as she slipped her car key into the lock.

A smirk settled on Spike's lips as he watched the Summers SUV turn out of the parking lot and out of sight. It was quite a stroke to his ego to know that the Slayer wanted him and she wasn't making it a secret.

"Guess it's a good thing she can have me," he muttered to himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His euphoria lasted until he reached the end of the alley near the movie theater. He rolled his neck and watched the patrons leaving the early show. Habits of a lifetime easily slid to the forefront of his mind. He unconsciously licked his lips. He had marked off one of his chores on his checklist for the night. He just had one more thing to investigate before meeting Buffy for patrol. Whistling softly he fell into step behind a pair of college aged students who had just left the theater. The vampire shadowed them down the dark street until they ducked into an alley that was a shortcut towards UC Sunnydale. Grinning at their foolishness and his luck, he followed them into the darkness.

"Hey Handsome!" Buffy greeted happily as she popped off the top of a tombstone where she had been sitting and waiting for her slightly late patrol date partner. Despite her exuberance in response to Spike's arrival, she immediately noticed his slight cringe when she spoke. She instantly shifted to concerned mode. She asked if he was hurt and what was wrong. He waved off her concern. When the Slayer pressed further, the vampire flinched. For just a second, a flash of guilt shifted through his eyes.

"Spike... what's wrong?"

He sighed.

"Just a headache, Slayer. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Won't interfere with patrol."

Frowning, Buffy reached for his arm. She knew enough about vampire physiology to know that they didn't suffer from migraines or other sicknesses like humans did. If Spike's head hurt, there had to be a tangible cause. When she stated such, Spike offered her a tired smile. He waved it off as just a flash from his chip.

Concern clouded her face as she worried if the implant was malfunctioning.

Although tickled that the Slayer was more worried about his health than a possible failure of his government supplied leash, Spike assured her that it was working just fine.

"Just bumped into a couple in an alley. No harm done."

"Maybe not to them but you look a bit worse for wear. Maybe you want to skip patrol?" she soothed as she slipped her arm though his and started leading him towards the cemetery exit. This one was literally dead so she easily shifted her plans to walk Spike back to his crypt before finishing her rounds on her own.

"A bit a violence will have me good as new," the vamp promised with a convincing grin.

Buffy shrugged and deferred to his judgment. After all, it was his head.

After three graveyards, a speed cruise through the Bronze and a side trip near the docks, the supernatural couple strolled through their final cemetery of the night. When they spotted a vampire sneaking through the shadows, Spike offered to watch the fun. He already got his bit of violence when they took out a pair of Chaos demons who were caught sabotaging an electrical junction box near the docks. The lingering effects of the chip firing earlier had long since faded and he was pleased as punch over the progression of the evening. Content, the vampire leaned against a tall marble monument and watched the Slayer toss the stupid idiot who hadn't run at the first sight of the little blond fury who was currently kicking his rear up one tombstone and down another.

Spike was so intent on enjoying the show that he never noticed the rolling fog that swept across the grass. It swirled to a stop in the shadow of a large angel statue that marked the resting place for someones long dead grandmother. Dark eyes flashed in the fog as the apparition watched Buffy jump high in the air. Her booted foot connected with the staggering vampire's chin. Her prey fell and the Slayer easily dispatched him when she returned to the ground. After dusting debris from her hands, Buffy slid her stake into her back jeans pocket. She turned and offered Spike a grin.

Before he could compliment her performance, a tall, thin man stepped into view and offered his opinion.

"Very impressive hunt," the man shared in a thick accent.

Buffy spun towards the voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Such power," the visitor complimented as he stepped closer.

Buffy shrugged. She could feel Spike moving swiftly to her side.

"Nothing special," the Slayer responded. "Was a vamp. Now he's dust. Wanna join him, Drac?"

The stranger frowned in confusion. He had not expected the Slayer to know who he was. Dracula was even more concerned when he realized that his target had been joined by William the Bloody. They had a history that didn't even come close to friendly.

"We're not going to fight," the European vampire smoothly stated as he moved closer. He slowly ghosted his gaze over the Slayer starting with her feet and ending with her face.

Beside her, Spike stiffened and hissed softly in obvious annoyance at the attention the insolent vampire paid to his date's assets. Those were his to enjoy and not on display for the riffraff's pleasure.

"So how are the Sisters?" Buffy asked as she reached a hand for Spike before he could do something stupid. Her strong fingers pressuring against his arm helped focus his churning emotions and allow a cooler head to prevail.

Again, Dracula appeared confused. Nothing about this confrontation was going as he expected. He had planned his seduction of Buffy Summers for quite some time and had hoped to snag her interest with his name and a bit of mystery. That the Slayer was already in the company of a powerful vampire put a slight kink in his works. This situation would require more consideration.

"I can see that you already have plans for the evening. Perhaps we will meet at another time," the arrogant vampire stated as he waved dismissively towards Spike.

"Sure. We can talk but you need to refrain from eating the populous. Bagged blood only for your visit or we will have words and not the kind you want to share."

Dracula stiffened at the restriction the Slayer had the audacity to place upon him. He sputtered in disgust.

"Bagged only," Buffy stressed as she slipped her stake from her pocket and twirled it in her hand. "For you and your traveling companions. I will have your word on it."

"Your silly stake cannot hurt me," he snottily informed her as he disregarded the unspoken threat in her display of manual dexterity.

"You're word, Drac, or I will be finding a bottle and you will be enjoying the sunrise. For at least the couple seconds before you dust."

Dracula stiffened. His eyes widened as he realized that the Slayer before him actually posed a threat to his life despite his mystical powers. Briefly, he wondered how she new such a thing. His eyes narrowed and he glanced quickly towards Spike. It was possible that William the Bloody had discovered his weakness and then shared the details with her although he wondered how the Slayer of Slayers would have learned that little tidbit in the first place. For that matter, he was incredibly interested in why a vampire who prided himself on killing slayers appeared to be on good terms with this one. This new development only served to increase his interest in the pretty blond slayer.

"You're word," Buffy pressed as she stepped towards the visiting vamp. Although she knew Dracula would not agree to drinking bagged blood, she hoped it would make a good starting point for some bartering.

"You would accept my word as truth?" Dracula asked with a hint of amusement and surprise in his voice.

"Sure," the Eternal One replied with a casual shrug. "You're all old world. Your word means something."

"Ah, you understand perfectly, my Killer," Dracula intoned with a slight and regal nod. "Very well. I give you my word. I will not hunt and kill in Sunnydale and I will ensure that my companions follow the edict also."

"No killing at all," Buffy stressed. She didn't want him twisting his word to mean he could thrall his way into a meal without remorse.

Impressed at her quick catch, Dracula flashed a bit of fang when he grinned.

"Catch and release?" he countered casually. Although he wouldn't enjoy it, he and his entourage could sustain themselves without killing for the time they were in Sunnydale.

"Leave them happy and healthy and you are fine."

The visiting Count chuckled then agreed. He promised to meet with her again when she was less occupied with minor matters. When Spike bristled again at the thinly veiled insult, Buffy soothed him by leaning against his body and giving him a quick hug around his waist.

In a blink of an eye, his body contracted and Dracula transformed into a bat. He spiraled in the air a few times before flying into the darkness.

Buffy groaned.

"Shades and Shadows that vamp is such a drama queen," she grumbled.

She felt Spike draw away from her. With her attention now on him instead of the long gone flying rodent, William glared at her.

"You knew Dracula," he accused.

Unsure why this would upset him so much, Buffy confirmed the fact.

Spike's coat flared around him as he spun away from his date. Without another word, he stomped away from her. Buffy rolled her eyes before running to catch up with him. It appeared that Dracula was not the only one suffering from the drama affliction.

They stalked silently through town until reaching Spike's crypt. When the angered vampire would have stormed into his home and slammed the door in Buffy's face, the Slayer caught hold of his hand. Although she didn't use her superior strength to halt his progress, her gentle touch caught his attention. He paused.

"Spike?" she called in an uncertain voice that cut through his anger and jealousy better than any amount of yelling would have. "What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. Old pains pricked and nagged at his mind. They reminded him of how easily he was tossed aside. How easily he was forgotten. It was a lesson introduced to William as a human and slammed home by Angelus and Drusilla in his life as a vampire.

"You knew Dracula," he finally repeated. "You remember him. You barely remember Buffy Summers but you remember that poncy bastard?"

The Eternal One offered her insecure companion a gentle squeeze on his hand before asking if she could come inside and explain. Although unhappy about it, Spike nodded. He didn't trust himself to answer any other way. He knew his frustration and disgust would leak all over any conversation.

Buffy crawled onto the sarcophagus and watched at Spike fixed himself a mug of blood. His jerking movements betrayed his continued agitation so the Slayer tried to find the words to explain herself. She wasn't sure if Spike was actually listening to her but she needed to try. She didn't want him misunderstand and continue to be hurt.

"I do remember Dracula. It would be hard not to. He was one of the last. After the plague swept away humanity, vampires fell swiftly. There wasn't enough food to sustain them and most were unable to adapt properly to alternative food sources."

Buffy wove a tale of pockets of vampires who succeeded in keeping farm animals alive for their sustenance but they were never able to maintain the discipline needed for the long term. Something was missing from their lives. The Slayer believed that their demonic natures needed some form of hunt or violence to keep from losing their minds. They always ended up slaughtering their farms and their companions internally or falling victim to demon attacks. On the whole, vampires had more easily manipulated weaknesses compared to some of the more aggressive demon races.

At this point in her story, she noticed Spike's tension lessen. He moved across the room and settled on the opposite side of the stone casket. He didn't meet her eyes but she did know he was hearing what she was sharing. She smiled softly then returned to the tale.

"Dracula and the two sisters came to me some time after humanity fell."

"Three sisters," Spike corrected.

Buffy shrugged and admitted that there were only two by the time they approached her. She had not recollection of a third one. At least that was how she remembered the little vampire group.

"He proposed an alliance. They needed blood. I made blood. Wasn't like they could drain me to permanent death. I needed companionship. They offered friendship. It worked for a while. Not sure how long. Long enough that it made a lasting impression. I think... um... Marita? Yes, Marita died in some kind of attack on our compound. Her sister couldn't handle the loss and walked into the noonday sun. That left Drac."

"Were you lovers?" Spike asked quietly.

Buffy shook her head. She had never reached towards him in that particular manner.

"No. I was spiraling too far into my own head by that point. The whole bottle thing to kill Dracula was one of the last thing I remember doing before the crushing darkness that bled into the hell under the Dreski'an."

Buffy fell silent. Fearing that she was slipping into harmful memories once again, Spike set aside his empty glass and moved across the top of the sarcophagus. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled against her neck. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned into the embrace.

"I'm sorry that I don't clearly remember you," the Eternal One whispered against his ear. "For what it's worth, I get flashes sometimes. Problem is that I'm not sure what has and hasn't happened already. Or even if they will given that I have utterly changed the world by returning like this."

An idea tripped through his mind. Chuckling, Spike lifted Buffy in his arms so that he could carry her to his chair. He wanted to be more comfortable. Settling in place with the Slayer snuggled into his lap, the vampire kissed the top of her head. His anger over Dracula had slithered away some time during her explanation.

"Think I can help with those memory questions," he offered as he settled back and shared his memories and impressions of Buffy Summers. They might be one sided and they might be tinged with early malice but it was the best he could do to help.

"So... any matches?" Spike inquired as he finally fell silent after sharing the saga of Buffy the Vampire Slayer versus Spike, Slayer of Slayers.

Buffy traced her fingertip over the palm of Spike's hand. It feathered over the lines as if she was reading his fortune. She ran her finger up to press against his matching tip.

"I was annoyed yet intrigued when you clapped," she admitted. It was only a flash but the emotional response was still linked to the flash somewhere in her mind. She pressed her middle finger against his also so they were joined at two points. "I remember a moment of surprise as you stood before me. I am guessing that was when you knocked out the policeman before we joined forces."

Spike nodded. She was most likely right.

Her ring finger met his as she described him standing at the foot of the stairway in her current home. She felt to empty and lost and he was looking at her as if the world had been laid at his feet.

"That one hasn't happened yet," Spike offered.

Buffy hummed and matched the pad of her pinky finger to his.

"I remember leaning against your chest with your arms around me, bit like you're holding me now, and feeling peaceful. I don't have a lot of peace in my life. Solitude and quiet, yes. True peace. Not so much."

"That one hasn't happened yet either, luv."

"I figured."

With a simple shift of her fingers, she was able to clasp her fingers down over his knuckles on the back of his hand. With their palms pressed firmly together, she tightened her hold until her joints in her hand whitened with the strain. Tears collected and trailed down her cheeks.

"Only one more floating around in there and I know it hasn't happened yet," she admitted before she pulled his hand tight against her stomach and turned her face into his neck. She would hide from that memory for a while longer. She fervently hoped it never came to pass. "That one... well, I think we can avoid that one for now. Neither one of us are ready to share it yet."

"You're most likely right," he confirmed as he considered her tears and the intensity of her grip. He shivered slightly then hugged her tighter.

"You know what I see in each of those memories?" Buffy mumbled into his shirt.

"A rather handsome bloke?"

As he intended, his comment pulled a giggle from Buffy.

"That too," she admitted as she dried her tears on his shirt. "But what I really saw? I saw you, seeing me. Those feelings that wash over me with those fleeting moments in time, no matter what my feelings are, you see me in that moment. You might not have liked me. You might have wanted to slam me against the wall and drain me dry. Other times, you might have felt love or affection. Doesn't matter. No matter what you were feeling, the important point was you were seeing me. And that makes me feel special now. Whether those moments have happened already or will in the future or maybe never come to pass, I figure you will go on seeing me. At least, I hope."

Silence fell in the crypt as they each considered their past relationship as well as their possible future one.

"Do you expect me to be a white hat?" Spike finally asked. "If we're going to make this work, then you'll want me to be good. Right?"

"I expect you to be yourself."

Spike frowned.

"I'm a vampire whose killed two slayers and hunted my way over most of the continents for more than a hundred years."

Buffy snorted.

"Yeah... okay... don't be that part of yourself. I don't want to dust you. I would hope that you will be yourself here and now not your past self. You're a vamp. Can't change that fact. But that is what you are not who you are."

Warmth spread through Spike's chest which had nothing to do with Buffy's body heat pressed against his skin. The sensation only grew stronger as the Slayer told him to read the poetry books hidden beside the sarcophagus, talk art with her mother, listen to obnoxious music much too loudly for sensitive ears, and fight demons with glee. A sharp prickle started at the back of his eyes which he chose to ignore as Buffy praised him for finding a life for himself despite his chip and despite the seeming lack of support from those who should have offered more than a safe place and chains.

He growled when she apologized for not offering him more when he came to them for protection and help.

"Don't apologize," he grumbled. "Wasn't you who did it."

"No... it was me. A much younger me but it was still me. From what you shared, you hurt me so I hurt you back. I understand why I did it even if I don't like it. I'm a vengeful person. No matter how old I become, that still remains. I may carry hope around with me but I also carry a desire to rend and tear and beat back the wrongness that I see. The emotion is still there. It's the interpretation of what is wrong that has been influenced by time. You deserve the apology."

"Do you expect me to apologize for trying to kill you?"

Shaking her head, Buffy told him no. She didn't expect to be his moral compass and she told him such. She expressed that she had enough problems being her own guide to right and wrong. She admitted that she doubted she did a very good job of it from most mortal perspective at this point. She spent too much time way from those mores and values.

"Unlike you though, I got no soul to help me, Slayer," he reminded her. "Can't really expect me to come over all good and proper."

Buffy tapped his forehead.

"You don't have a soul but you do have a mind. And a pretty impressive one despite all the bleach treatments and the unwanted brain surgery. Way I see it? A soul is a trapping for deity. I figure yours has already gone where its supposed to go. Your body and mind remained with your demon. Maybe it even takes the place of the soul. Not really sure. What I do know is that you use your mind to make decisions. To weigh consequences. To determine your path."

"We're not always gonna agree," he warned.

"Most likely not," Buffy agreed.

"Still wanna do this?"

"Most definitely," the Slayer responded as she shifted so she could wrap her arms around Spike's neck. She pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before moving back to the more comfortable position. She snuggled tightly and closed her eyes. A soft sigh of contentment escaped. She was exhausted and Spike made a comfy cushion. She had every intention of enjoying being in his arms.

"Slayer?"

"Hmm?" Buffy murmured. She was at the point when the mind follows the body into sleep.

"Do you think you could love me?" he asked quietly as insecurity poked and prodded at the warm contentment that filled his chest.

"I can see it," she mumbled as she allowed sleep to wash over her.

Spike listened to the slow, steady beat of her heart. He glanced at his hand clenched tightly in hers once more. A soft smile slid over his lips.

"I can see it too," he whispered against her hairline as he closed his eyes and embraced the fall.