"The Demon."

"The Demon."
Part twenty-two of the "What Am I?" series.
Rating: R. for the entire series.
Spoilers: I don't have the time or the energy to go through and state exactly what spoilers are contained in my fics just assume that anything that has aired in the US is fair game.
Disclaimers: Joss owns everything fun. I only borrow it for a while.
Feedback: Let me know what you think. (ladyduvessa19@icqmail.com)

She said it. She actually admitted that she loved him. He never thought that he would hear those words from her. Never. He turned to her and captured her mouth in a kiss. As they kissed he remembered that Dru was trapped in the coffin and that Aurora could wake up at any second. Everything that he had planned on doing left his mind. He just concentrated on Buffy. On the way she felt. On the way she tasted. On the way she chose him. Then his thoughts became patterned. They became rhythmic, flowing. His thoughts became poems. *The softness of her touch. The poison of her voice. The devouring of her words. The passion of her heart rises above all else. She's mine. I claim her. My Buffy. My fluffy Buffy.* at that thought he broke their kiss and started yelling. "Fluffy Buffy. Bloody hell."

"No. No bloody hell. More kissing." She said and then realized what he said. "Fluffy Buffy??" she asked.

"Well nothing rhymes with Buffy. You've got a stupid name."

"My name is not stupid. My mother gave me my name. And why would you need something to rhyme with my name?" She asked looking incredibly sexy.

"What? Nothing. I don't. Forget I said anything." He said hoping that she would just drop it.

"Forget that you just called me fluffy Buffy? I don't think so. Come on you have to tell me why." Her voice was almost whiney. Much like Dawn sounded.

"I do not." He protested.

"I promise not to laugh."

"What makes you think that I'm afraid you're going to laugh?" he asked looking down towards the ground.

"Think about that for a minute." She said.

He was afraid that she was going to laugh. That's what they all did. "Just forget it. It was me being the man that you make me. The man that I was before I was turned. The man that I don't want to ever be again."

"What was so wrong with that man??" she asked.

"I told you already slayer. He was a nobody. He was the one everyone made fun of. The stupid poet who wore his heart out on his sleeve."

"Were you writing a poem just now? Is that why you needed something to rhyme with my name?" she asked and Spike detected a little excitement in her voice.

"No." he said lying.

"Yes you were." She said even more excited. "Do you write them a lot?"

"No. Buffy just let it go."

"Can I hear it?" she asked.

"NO." he yelled back.

"Please. No one's ever written anything for me before."

"I'm not a poet. I never was. I was pathetic. And you know what the worst part is I never knew it. The whole time I was alive I didn't know how incredibly pathetic I really was."

"I've thought the worst of you. And not once did I think of you as pathetic."

"That's because you never knew me." He said and saw the confused look on her face. "I mean the man. You never knew him. All you've ever known is the demon. The soulless killer."

"Spike you're not a demon." She said reaching her hand out to touch his face, but he backed away.

"Take it back." He yelled. "I am so a demon. That's all I am. All I want to be. When I died I was free. And when I rose I was strong, I was confident, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone get the best of me. Ever."

"But you're not just a demon Spike. A demon doesn't write poems. A demon doesn't love." She yelled.

"You might be right about the poems. Those are William. As much as I try I can't get him to go away. But demons can love. We're very good at it. You should know you are one." He had been rather insulting with that last comment and Buffy punched him in the face.

"I may be a demon, but I know I'm the same person I always have been. I didn't change."

"You think so? Cause you're wrong. You're not the same girl you were before you were called. You're a killer just like me. You feel it Buffy. You can't deny it. The power that you have. You don't want her back anymore than I want to be the man that I was." He said hoping that she wouldn't beat him down for speaking the truth.

"I don't want who back? What the hell are you talking about?"

"The scared, superficial little girl that you were." After he said that she looked away from him. "I'm right aren't I? You like who you are. You like the power, the fact that no one can tell you what to do."

He stood there silent for what seemed like forever. She didn't move. Didn't make a sound. She just stared at something that wasn't there. Finally he broke the silence. "Buffy you can't hate me for speaking the truth."

"You're right." She said quietly. "You're always right. I don't want to be that little girl. She was surrounded by people and yet she was alone. She was liked because she was pretty. She didn't get to think for herself. And she was always afraid that she would do something and no one would like her anymore. She was a puppet. And when I came to Sunnydale it was different. I mattered."

"The slayer mattered." He said.

"No Spike. I mattered. Being the slayer gave me strength. It gave me confidence. And it gave me the ability to be who I was. I didn't care anymore what people thought of me. Because I knew that I was important. And I don't believe that I am the demon. Being the slayer has given me a lot, but it enhanced who I am. It didn't take me away." She was making sense and he hated it. Everything she said applied to him. He was still William. He was still the pathetic poet. But he wasn't as lost. Wasn't as scared. He stood up for himself. He was passionate to a fault just like he was when he was alive, but he defended his passions. Hell he was tortured by a God just so something wouldn't happen to the little bit. He sat down and Buffy sat on his lap. "You're not the demon Spike. It's a big part of you and what you do, but it isn't who you are." She leaned back on his chest. And he wrapped his arm around her.

"But all those things I did. All those people I killed." He said.

"Those were for survival. You needed to eat. But you don't kill anymore, you can't. And you're the same man now that you were before the chip. Nothings changed. You're still stubborn, obnoxious, all 'oh look at me'." She said.

"Hey now…" he said and she positioned herself so that she was sitting closer to his knees and she looked in his eyes.

"And extremely sexy, and sweet sometimes. And you're always helping me out. And… and." He knew that she was reaching to try and come up with good things about him so he silenced her with a short kiss.

"So you're saying we're not demon?" he asked.

"I'm saying that if there was a questionnaire and it asked you if you were demon or human we would have to check the 'other' box. "

"The other box?" he said half laughing at her choice in descriptions and smiling because she was treating him like he was somebody. Like he mattered.

"Yeah. We're like half-breeds. Human and demon."

"Half-breeds huh?" he said turning her so her back was once again leaning against his chest.

"Yep. Half-breeds." She said and then they fell silent. They weren't the human. They weren't the demon. They just were.


Part 21 || Part 23