New York 2009

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Spike."

"You know what it means. You're terrified to live because you're a little bit in love with death. You're afraid to really be alive because a part of you wants it all to end. Part of you wants to die. You crave it. And that scares you shitless."

Buffy laughed harshly. "Thanks, doc. Done with the psychobabble yet? I walk in a nightmare every night, genius. If I were afraid I wouldn't have made it as long as I have. And if I really wanted to die, I would have. But nothing has been able to kill me or keep me dead. Not yet, anyway. I'm very much with the survival, Spike. And I'm not afraid. Not of you. Not of the big baddies out there. Not of death. "

"Bullshit, Buffy. I've seen the fear in your eyes before. Whether you want to admit it or not, you've been terrified, Summers. If fact, I'd wager you thrive on it. But I'm not talking about the beasties you battle. I'm talking about those demons on the inside. The ones we've all got. The ones that all the stakes and fists and battle axes can't beat back. That's what scares you. "

"And you would know all about those, wouldn't you," Buffy shot back sarcastically.

Spike swallowed back his anger. "As a matter of fact I would. But just because your demon doesn't wear a separate face doesn't mean that you don't bloody have one too. We all do, Buffy. That's what makes us human."

New York 2006

That was the first time they had gone to bed together. During the first year, that was how they always referred to it 'going to bed.' They avoided the crudity of 'fucking,' the sentiment of 'making love,' and the banality of 'sex.' It was one of the necessary walls they erected at the start of their relationship. The phrase contained the necessary paradox of intimacy and distance.

He was lying on his back; she was on her side, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.

They didn't say anything for a few minutes. He could hear her heart pounding. The sex had been good, nice. It had felt right in a way that he had not been expecting.

He was the first to break the silence. "You okay, pet. This wasn't too much for you to take in?"

She glanced down, her eyes moving down his naked torso to his cock, which was still partially erect, her gaze lingering for a moment before she answered. "Too much. No, I'd say it was just right." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh you meant finding out you were a vampire and then having supernatural sex. No. I'm dealing. It's totally insane. But for some reason I'm not anywhere near and frightened or wigged as I should be. I'm thirsty though, is it okay if I get a glass of water?" she asked, getting up from the bed.

He looked at her. Her hair was mussed, an unruly tangle of curls, her lips had that swollen just kissed look. There were red welts on her hips and ass from his hands, and there was red bite marks on her neck and breasts and inner thighs. Dull tooth bites, no blood, but still, he'd have to be gentler with her. Her olive toned skin bruised so easily. She looked like she had just taken a bit of a nasty tumble. She looked beautiful, ravishingly just ravaged.

"I'll get it for you, pet. Relax."

"I don't mind. I'm already up." She walked from the room, and he heard her open up the kitchen cabinets, fortunately he had some glasses, something to drink blood out of beside novelty mugs he had come to prefer because they reminded him of Buffy. He lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag. He heard the tap turn on, run for a few second, and fill up a pint glass. Rae came back into the room, taking a sip of the water. She had a joint in her hand.

"Do you mind?" she asked, holding up the marijuana cigarette.

"Not at all, love. Vampire, remember. Evil. I can hardly harbor moral qualms against a little bud."

"I wasn't sure. Being all reformed and all. Figured you were a good law abiding citizen."

He smirked. "Hardly. Old habits die hard, love, 'specially when you've been around forever."

She placed the glass on the table beside his bed and laid down back down beside him. He held the flame of his lighter to her joint. She puffed on the end of it, allowing the reefer to ignite, before taking a long hit, holding the smoke in her lungs before exhaling. He put his arm around her again.

"What about you, love? Any old bad habits need breaking?"

She looked up at him. "Used to. There was while, you know… but not any more…." she trailed off. "Except this maybe," she offered his the joint. He placed his cigarette in the ashtray next to his bed and took a drag. It had been a while since he had smoked weed, or eaten someone who had just smoked.

"No, actually I don't. Know I mean. Don't know much about you at all." He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes slightly, adopting that expression that looked right through her. "What's your story, pet?" He passed the joint back to her. "Is there a reason why you've been so quiet about your past? I wager you can figure why I never shared any stories about my childhood, but what's your deal?"

"Oh no," she said with a laugh. "There is no way I can follow up your story. Totally not fair. I'm just a girl. Nothing supernatural, no vampires, no supervillains, no Slayers, no resurrections. I can't compete."

"There is something about you. I'm not sure what. But there is something. So, tell me. Where do you come from, pet? What are you? Because bloody hell woman, you're not just a girl."

"I can't tell you. There are some things I'd rather you not know. Certain things I'm not proud of."

"What? Afraid you'll scare me away?" he snorted. "Let's hear it, pet. How many families did you massacre? How many little girls did you kill? I've been a right demon, love. I think I've got you pretty well bested in the guilt-ridden ashamed of the past category."

She shuddered and then smiled, slightly, an ineffectual attempt to cover the fear that had just coursed through her. "See. Can't compete."

"I showed you mine, now its time for you to do the showing."

She blushed, "You've pretty much seen everything I've got."

"Spill," he passed the joint back to her.

"Fine," she said, taking another hit off the spliff, "but be warned, boringness ahead."

"Just elbow me if I start drifting off," he teased, as he took the joint from her and took a drag.

She smiled. "Well lets see. I grew up in Colorado, the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. I lived a pretty secluded life for a pretty long time. It was just me and my mom. My dad ran off or something. Mom never talked about him much, and I never asked. We had a farm. My mom owned fifteen acres, had five planted. Don't know where she got most her money from. I guess at that point I was too young to really worry about real estate or finances. The rest of our property remained uncultivated, wild. I would spend all summer helping my mom in the garden or rambling through the forests. During the winter she home schooled me. She had grown up imbibing all the old hippie doctrines, and she didn't want me learning from the man. She was afraid I would turn into a Republican or something. See pretty uneventful. Boring."

"Not at all, pet." He passed her the joint.

The roach as almost gone. She puffed on it, holding the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds, handing it back to him as she exhaled the sweet smoke of marijuana. "You can finish it," she offered, "There is only a hit or two left. It wasn't a bad way to grow up, I guess. I liked the animals the best. We had cats and dogs, some goats for milk. And horses. We had always had horses."

"I was wondering where you learned to ride like that, pet," he interrupted.

"Oh God. If you are going to be lewd, Spike, can you at least try not being clichéd lewdness. I think that one is in every psychoanalytic handbook."

"Oi! Nothing to get knickers in a twist about, love, I won't forget to feed your pony," he smirked, resting his hand between her legs, slipping two fingers inside of her and rubbing his palm against her clit. She trembled and moaned at his touched. "So," he purred, "horses."

"I think that's enough talking for now."

"Not getting off that easily," he grinned wickedly at his double entendre and pulling his hand away.

"Fine. But that was pretty much my life for the first eleven years. Farming, forests, sunshine and the wild. My mom made sure that I was learning things even during the summer. Not the things that were in books, but all of the lessons Nature could teach me. That's how she phrased it. So she taught me Nature's secrets, what sort of wild mushrooms one could eat, the songs of the birds, how to coax a garden from a seed.

"When I was eleven all of that changed. One day a man showed up at our house. It was someone I had not ever seen before. We didn't have many visitors, except for a neighbor who took some of our extra produce and goat cheese into Denver to sell at a farmer's market, which brought in a little money. So I was scared. I did not like this strange man. It was instinct, I guess. Super Oedipal, I know, but from the moment I saw him I hated him. I hid in the house. I watched him greet my mom, but I could not read their gestures. Then my mom came inside and called to me. I came, but only reluctantly. 'Rae,' she said gently, and then she told me that this strange man was my father. 'He is going to be staying with us for a few days,' she told me.

"He stayed much longer than that.

"He lived with us for a month, and then he took us back to Chicago, where he lived. He was a lawyer. One of the higher ups in a pretty big firm."

"Sodden lawyers," Spike growled.

"Don't care much for our justice system?"

"System isn't bad, just all the fucking attorneys in it. Sorry, love, had a bad experience with the legal types. I'm sure your old man was a decent one though."

She looked concerned. "I'm not so sure. The firm he was working for, Spike, I don't think they were on the up and up. Wolf or Ham or something. I can't remember."

"Wolfram and Hart?"

"Yeah, that was it, I think."

"Oh bloody hell. They weren't just not up and up, pet, they are down right evil. And this is coming from a vampire, yeah. Know a little something about evil."

"Yeah, well I wasn't happy about the move. Evil lawyers or no. Chicago wasn't my home. And I hated it there. Hated him. I just wanted to move back to my farm, my horses, my home with my mom. I didn't like the city. I got used to it, of course. I mean 'the city' in the abstract. Kinda have to, living here, you know. But I think part of my heart will always be in the country, where I grew up. Part of me will always think of that as home." She looked at the clock next to Spike's bed. It was almost four in the morning. "And speaking of home. I had better be getting there now. I have two kitties probably starving to death," she got out of the bed, and started looking around the room for her clothes.

"Cats? You are gonna leave me for cats?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"They probably need food and water. Besides, its getting really late. Way too late." She pulled up her jeans.

He had gotten out of the bed too, and had come up behind her, running his hands down her bare arms. "All the more reason not to leave, pet. Spend the night. Or what's rest of it."

She turned to face him. "I would like to, but I can't."

"Didn't figure you as the crazy cat lady type, love." He smiled wickedly. "Or should I call you kitten." He cocked an eyebrow as she scowled at him. "How about pussy? My little pussy cat?" He smirked, leering at her, particularly relishing the words, his voice seductively caressing each syllable.

Rae blushed a deep red. "I think I should probably go before you get any more obscene."

"Fine. Then, I'll come with you."

"Oh, that's very sweet of you. But you don't have to."

"Yeah, I do. Bet you that most anything milling around out there at this time of night is probably up to no good. A tasty bit like you, bet they wouldn't mind having you for nibbles. I know I wouldn't. And I don't fancy you putting yourself in any danger. Especially not before I have some time to teach you some self-defense. You need to learn how to throw a punch, kitten."

"But you probably won't have time to make it back here before the sun rises. I live in Brooklyn. It's a much longer trip than you'd expect."

"That's fine by me. I can think of something to pass the time, pussy cat." He paused, suddenly unsure of himself. "That is, if you don't have any objections. I mean, I don't have class or anything tomorrow."

She smiled warmly. "That would be nice. If you're sure you don't mind. But I do have some homework to get done. But if you think you can behave yourself," he looked at her pointed, "for the most part anyway. At least while I get my reading done…" she trailed off.

"My, my, aren't we the student. Got some homework myself," he smirked. "Got go over Much Ado About Nothing again. Its been a while. Want to make sure I'm not neglecting anything."

"Please tell me you're not making a Shakespearian vagina joke."

He shrugged. "Caught that did you?"

She laughed. "You've just gone from big bad to big dork. I hope you know that."

"That's what a soul does to you, kitten."