Buffy couldn't stand it any longer. They had been on patrol for almost an hour. They hadn't come across any vampires or demons, but that wasn't what was bothering her. It was that, in that whole time, Spike hadn't said a word. She didn't really miss his snarky observations, but this was a little too much.

"O.K., what's going on here?" she finally said.

"What?" said Spike.

"You haven't said a single word for fifty-seven minutes," she said. "What's the deal?"

"Oh, you want to talk, do you? Really?"

"Funny, the weather report didn't say anything about sarcasm in this area."

"Oh, come on," he said. "What do you think we're doing out here? No demons or beasties or anything out tonight. You just grabbed any excuse I could give to get out of that meeting. Anything to avoid trying to defend yourself at that trial."

"What are you talking about? Of course I want to —"

"Don't you think I've been watching you? You want to be found guilty! All out of some bloody overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. And for nothing! Nothing!!"

"It wasn't nothing!" shouted Buffy angrily. "I –"

"Just who do you think you're talking to?" said Spike, the tone of his voice suddenly switching from derisive to flinty hard. "Do you know how many people I've killed? Innocent people? I think about them every day, every minute. It's all I can do to keep from dusting myself, but I don't, because I think maybe I can do something to atone, to make things right. I know I never will, but I try anyway. But you! That worthless git shot holes through your two best friends, and you want to go to jail because you wanted him dead for a few seconds and threw one too many punches?! Well, boo-bloody-hoo! Excuse me for thinking you're wrong!"

Buffy felt herself shrivel inside. Fortunately, Spike kept talking, more calmly now.

"It's all right," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "That's not you're real problem, anyway."

"It's not?"

"Of course not. Your friends will find some way to keep you out of jail, even if you don't help them. But your personal life..." Spike snorted. "You're lucky you have me around to help you with that."

Buffy began to fume. "Why the hell should I listen to you? Look at you! All of your problems, and you're still sticking your nose into my life."

"That's because your problems are so easy to solve. You've only got one: You're in love and you don't want to admit it, not even to yourself."

"God! The ego! I've never been in love with you!"

"Did I say it was with me?"

Spike smirked at Buffy's sudden inability to answer. "You're in love, Slayer, you're in love with somebody, and you better do something about it before it kills you."

Buffy stared at the ground. How does he do it, she thought, how does he always know, when even I don't?

She paused for a long moment. "You're not jealous?" she said quietly, still not looking up.

"Of Glinda the good witch? I suppose I should be, but it would be like kicking puppies. I didn't do that even when I didn't have a soul."

"What about kittens?"

"Kittens have claws. She doesn't. Besides, and don't let this go to your head, but I admire her taste in women."

Buffy looked up. "You mean, you think ... she ... too ...?"

Spike smiled, a real smile this time, not a smirk. "Buffy, how could she not?"

Buffy managed a smile in return, but it faded just as quickly. "But what if she ... after what I did ...?

"Oh, we're back to that are we? All right, suppose she thinks you're just as guilty as you think you are. Do you honestly think she wouldn't forgive you? Her, of all people? She'd forgive you the bloody Crucifixion."

Buffy suddenly felt strangely light-hearted, happy for the first time since ... since ...

"Do you think she's waiting up for me?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Can you finish patrolling alone? I could..."

"Go!"

Buffy started to dash off, then stopped and turned.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Spike smiled. He looked different than usual, thought Buffy. Surprisingly ... human.