"Hang on... I've almost got the feed from the Magic Box... almost... there." Willow looked up, brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Y'know, as obnoxious as this is, it's almost kind of useful? I mean, there's Anya, gettin' her capitalism on... and if anything happened to her, we'd be able to tell instantly."

"You can see Anya?" Xander moved to peer over Willow's shoulder. "Man, I hate the way she has her hair today. It's all... crazy poofy. I still really want to have sex with her, though."

"Well, that's nice, Xander... okay, just a few more cameras... oh wow, they have one in Spike's crypt? Leave no stone unturned, no pun intended..."

Buffy's eyes popped open. "They have one in Spike's crypt? I mean, not that I... not that there's anything to see there, I mean, uh, how boring is Spike and uh, do you think they keep videotape backups?"

"Dunno..." Willow's fingers tapped. "Well hello, Mr. Abdominal Muscles! I wonder if vampires have to work out..."

"Spike does," Xander leaned over for a better view. "I went to find him once and he was doing pushups. In bed. He is such a freak. But you're right about the abdominal muscles, Will; I mean, just damn."

"So, he's... um... naked?" Buffy asked, feigning nonchalance.

"No, he just has his shirt off. He's talking to someone, but I can't see their face."

"Hey, guys," Dawn called. "What are you..."

She trailed off, eyes wide. "Is that Spike's crypt?"

"The nerds have a camera bank. We just found it." Willow swivelled her laptop to give Dawn a better look. "Everything from the Magic Box to Xander's construction site to Spike's crypt..."

"So, what's Angel doing there?" Dawn peered at the screen. "I thought he and Spike, like, hated each other."

Buffy jumped up, knocking her chair back, headed towards the laptop.

"That's who Spike is talking to?" Willow swung the laptop back around. "Oh wow... that is weird. And no one's hitting anyone... that's weirder..."

"That is bizarre," Xander put his hands in his pockets. "Figured Spike'd be Angel Food after Angel found out about his sick little crush on Buffy."

"We have to go down there," Buffy blurted. "What if Angel and Spike fight?"

"Yeah, I would really enjoy seeing that," Xander said gleefully.

"Looks like they're just having a conversation... actually, Spike's laughing..."

"Well that's no good!"

"I dunno," Dawn said. "Spike looks pretty happy... relieved..."

Buffy grabbed her coat. "Come on, guys. This could get ugly."

-------------------

Buffy kicked the door of Spike's crypt open with a shuddering crash, revealing Angel and Spike's shocked faces, frozen in time as Spike poured more blood into Angel's mug.

Spike recovered first, grinning as he recapped the jar. "Speak of the devil and she appears. Don't suppose you have to worry about finding her then, mate."

"You were looking for me, Angel?" Buffy asked, charging into the crypt.

"Yeah, I... I was..." Angel clutched his mug of blood nervously, watching as Xander, Willow, and Dawn filed in after her. "I, uh, was kind of hoping there wouldn't be quite so large of an audience..."

"Well, we're not leaving," Xander said. "I really want to see you kick each other's asses."

"He's right... I haven't even punched you yet, have I, Peaches? And it our standard greetin'." Spike chuckled. "Must be slippin' in my old age."

"We can do the punching parts later," Angel's fingers worked nervously over the handle of his cup. "Look, uh, Buffy... guys... I have a, a sort of confession."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "What kind of confession?"

"Uh... the awkward, embarrassing kind."

"Embarrassin'?" Spike smirked. "I'd say I was the one it was embarrassin' for, mate."

"Right, yeah." Angel set his mug down, facing them with a sigh. "Look, um. I had... kind of forgotten something I did when I was Angelus, back when I lived here..."

"Oh, this doesn't sound good," Willow moaned.

Angel held up his hands. "The damage is all done. I owe you guys a big apology. It was so minor compared to the other stuff I did, it... kind of slipped my mind, but Spike here tells me that it's been really inconvenient for you, uh, especially you, Buffy, so..."

Spike cleared his throat pointedly.

"Although, obviously, far far worse for Spike."

"Out with it," Buffy snapped.

"Look, uh... back when I was Angelus, I uh, I told Spike once that to kill you, Buffy, he'd have to love you. Which gave me this idea, um, for how to get revenge on you both..."

"God, you're long-winded, Peaches," Spike groaned. "He mojo'd me into being in love with the bloody Slayer. Little parting gift from the diabolical Angelus."

"What?" Buffy breathed.

"Oh, he buggered me up proper," Spike smirked. "First, I lost Dru, then I couldn't stay away from bloody Sunnyhell, got m'self chipped, started savin' you lot..."

"When you weren't trying to kill us," Xander pointed out.

"When, of course, I wasn't tryin' to kill you," Spike conceded, shaking a cigarette out of his pack.

"Wow, Angel," Xander said in awe. "You totally ruined Spike's life with one spell. Usually we have to rely on Will for that... OW!"

Willow removed her elbow from Xander's side.

"Thanks for summing it up," Angel growled. "Starting to see how you dated Cordy. At any rate, I've canceled the love spell. Spike should be back to his normal, incredibly irritating self now."

"Yeah, I've got m'brain back," Spike said. "Bits that aren't all bloody wired up, anyway."

Dawn stepped forward, voice trembling. "Spike?"

"Yeah, Nibblet?"

"What are you... what are you going to do now? Are you going to leave?"

Spike's face softened; he moved towards Dawn, taking her by the hands. "Bit, there wasn't any hoodoo makin' me love you, pet. Nothin's changed."

"You're sure?"

"Sure I'm sure." Spike brushed a piece of her hair away from her face. "Nibblet, all that spell did was make me sack o'hammers over big sis, okay? Everythin' else is me."

"You won't leave? You'll stay? Please?"

"Swore to protect you, didn't I? Can't do that if I'm gone."

Dawn flung her arms around Spike, and he looked vaguely embarrassed, smiling at the rest sheepishly. "There now, Bit, it's okay..."

"I'm finding this weirdly touching and confusing," Xander mused.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Angel asked quietly.

"Me? Um, well, of course! I'm thrilled! And relieved! I mean, huh, what a weight off, right? Anyway, it's getting dark, so... I should patrol..."

"Slayer?" Spike said. "Like to talk to you in private, if I may."

"Um... sure..." Buffy bit her lip. "That'd be... fine."

The rest made their exits, Dawn giving Spike's hand a last squeeze. Spike hopped up on his sarcophagus, lighting a cigarette.

"Look, Slayer... I want to apologize."

"A Spike apology." Buffy crossed her arms. "This is novel."

Spike sighed. "Look, Slayer. That bloody spell... it made me act like an bleedin' idiot. I know it. God knows I'd undo it if I could... but I can't... so I'm gonna have to just go with the sorry, right? Stalkin' you and the bot and bloody hell, the singing..."

"Well... we've all been under spells before... not exactly of the new." Buffy shrugged. "I gotta patrol."

"Slayer... one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I know things have... er... gotten... a bit weird, lately. I'd uh, really appreciate it if no one found out about..."

Spike made a face of disgust, pointing towards the lower crypt.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "What?"

Spike, vaguely green, made circling motions with his hands.

"C'mon, Spike. You're a big boy now. Use your words."

"Well... how uh... how bad the spell got. The, ah, extent to which I was affected."

Buffy looked at him blankly.

"Fine. The shagging, and the..." Spike's lips curled in revulsion, "All the... flowery twaddle I said when I was... ah... under the influence."

"Flowery... twaddle?"

Spike paced, unwilling to meet her eyes. "Look, I know it's over, and believe me, no one is happier than me about that mercy. But the fact that it happened at all... right embarrassin' for me, y'know? I mean, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers... pantin' after one like a bleedin' dog in heat... I have to hand it to Angelus, the sadistic bastard got me by the short hairs. Knows me too bloody well, he does."

Buffy stared at him incredulously. "You're saying... you want to keep our little... whatever that was... a secret, because it's... embarrassing for you."

"Well, yeah! I'm a bleedin' Master Vampire, Slayer. Angel hoodooed my head, made me lose Dru, made me get this bloody chip... and then you, well... you right vanquished me, dintcha? Would have staked myself if you'd asked me to, doesn't get much more pathetic than that. Not exactly anythin' I want to take out a Times Square billboard for, right? Look, I'll make it worth your while..."

"You're... bribing me to not tell anyone about us."

"Well... yeah. I mean, there is no us, right? You had an itch and I had a spell on me, the whole thing was meaningless and cheap even by my standards, but... look, I was under the impression that you didn't want to tell anyone either..."

"Well, I-I don't."

"Good. That's settled, then. Let's just both pretend this never happened. Maybe Red can boil us up some kind of forgettin' potion, and we can both put this bloody revoltin' mistake behind us. Hell, maybe I'll get her to make mine extra-strength, see if I can wipe out a few years in one go." Spike shook his head in disgust. "Can't believe I had a bloody robot... there's a memory I'd love to flush."

"So... what, so all of your niceness and the helping was just... a spell? What now, you go back to trying to get me killed all the time?"

Spike flinched. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Slayer."

"Well, I..."

"Look... the disgustin', sick, revoltin'..." Spike broke off, his face overwhelmed with nausea. "The stupid crush on you. That was the only spell bit, Slayer. I still love Nibblet, I still like some of your little Scoobies, I still like punchin' demons. I hope things don't have to change too much. If you need me, I'll be here, I..."

"You hope we can still be friends," Buffy said flatly.

"Well... yeah, I guess that kind o' sums it up, donnit?"

"So... you want to go patrol?"

Spike looked away. "Actually, I'd... if it's all the same to you, maybe we could split up. I'll take North of the Richardson crypt, n' you can..."

"You don't even want to patrol with me?"

"Sure, sure I do. Eventually. It's just... when I look at you, it reminds me of... well honestly, Slayer, I'm kind of havin' trouble keepin' my blood down."

"This is your idea of an apology?"

"I'm past the apology part, Slayer. This is the honesty part. C'mon, you said it yourself. The revulsion, the self-loathin', the skin-crawling need to heave... you felt it yourself, you told me about it all the time, right? I mean, you were right, you n' me is proper sick, it was just the bloody spell that made me all boo-hoo about it, and I'm past that now. We agree, don't we? I just... I just need some space."

"You need space, and you want to still be friends," Buffy drawled. "You do remember that I already dumped you, right?"

"You didn't dump me, Slayer," Spike smiled. "We never had a relationship to end. I was under a love spell and you wanted a sex toy. You only wanted me because you thought I didn't have any feelins... like a big, lukewarm blowup doll you didn't have to feel guilty for kickin' around... and in a way, you were right, weren't you? My love for you was never real."

"So glad we had this talk," Buffy spat, getting to her feet.

"Look, Slayer. You and I have both loved in our time, and loved well. I think it would be bloody disrespectful to the memory of the people we did love to call the sick, degraded thing that happened between us a relationship."

"I never said it was a relationship."

"Right. So we agree then. Oh, Slayer... hang on."

Spike crossed the room, taking a brown-paper parcel off the top of the refrigerator. "Give this to Nibblet, will you? In all the excitement, I forgot it."

"Why can't you give it to her yourself?"

"Well, I was going to, but I forgot, didn't I? She needs it for the report she's writin' tonight."

Buffy eyed the package suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Bloody hell, Slayer. It's a book. Normal old borin' book that they don't carry in the shops here. Open it. Have Red check it for hexes. Hell, even read it -- you do know how, right?"

"I know how to read, Spike."

"Well, you do hide it well. You thought Voltaire was a cartoon about robots."

"Excuse me very much for not being a century old!"

Spike snorted. "Go patrol, Slayer, I've got stuff to do."

"Oh really? And what 'stuff' would that be?"

"Well, first off, I'm burnin' my bed. And one of my rugs. And anythin' else that smells like you and reminds me of spendin' four years dancin' on Angelus' puppet strings." Spike glanced around. "Hell, maybe I should move, this whole place reeks of you."

"Well, maybe you should smoke a few more packs of your nice, stinky cigarettes."

Spike nodded seriously. "Good plan. Maybe get some incense, too. I'll talk to Anya tomorrow about it. G'night, Slayer."

"What?"

"Goodnight. See, that's British for 'get out'. Surely you've got better things to do than hang out with the evil dead, Slayer."

"Right. Of course I do. Right."

"So go."

"I'm going!"

"Well, go then."

"I'm out of here!"

"And yet, you're not."

"Spike... you... you..."

Spike put a hand on Buffy's shoulder, steering her towards the door. "Evil, soulless thing. I know. You've explained. Let the dead rest in peace, Slayer."

The crypt door slammed behind her, heavy and metallic, and Buffy finally allowed her freak-out to blossom across her face.

-------------------

The vamp exploded into a haze of dust, and Buffy only wished he'd been blonder.

Look, I know it's over, and believe me, no one is happier than me about that mercy.

She moved through the headstones, stake at the ready.

I'm burnin' my bed. And one of my rugs. And anythin' else that smells like you.

Her boots squished through the wet ground, displacing drops on the grass.

We can both put this revoltin' mistake behind us.

Dawn's book weighed heavily in her jacket pocket.

There wasn't any hoodoo makin' me love you, pet...

She rolled to the side, avoiding a blow, and another vamp turned to ash.

My love for you was never real.

"Where does he get off?" Buffy demanded of the ash pile.

-------------------

"You look great," Dawn reassured her for the seventh time, as Buffy adjusted her clothes critically in the mirror. "Really hot and stuff."

"You think so?"

Dawn flopped across Buffy's bed. "Soooooo... why you getting all dressed up for Xander, huh? Something I should know about?"

"No, no, just... going to go to the Bronze, and have a nice, normal evening with the humans. You sure you're okay here by yourself?"

"Look, if you're that worried about it, I can call Spike..."

"No! No calling Spike. You're old enough, you don't need a babysitter."

"I might call him anyway," Dawn mused. "We were watching Twin Peaks, and we're only about halfway through the tapes."

"No Spike, Dawn. I'm going to have Willow rescind his invitation into the house."

"What? Buffy, why would you do that? He's my best friend!"

"He's not your friend, Dawn. He doesn't have a soul. He can't have friends."

"That isn't true! He's my friend! Why can't he come over? It's not like he's stalking you anymore, he just wants to see me!"

"Dawn, honey... he doesn't want to see you."

"He does too. He came over yesterday! We played rummy, a-and he taught me German curse words."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, a wonderful influence. Dawn, I don't want you hanging out with that vampire anymore."

"You're jealous!"

"Dawn, please. I am so not jealous."

"Yes, you are! You're jealous because he liked you best when he was under that spell, and now he likes me best!"

"Oh, please! I never wanted him to like me! That was so gross, a-and wrong! I'm just... worried about you."

"You think he was only good because he wanted you," Dawn accused.

"Well, duh..."

"You don't know him at all," Dawn snapped, jumping off the bed. "You never knew him. Not ever. All you ever saw was what you expected to see."

"Dawn..."

Dawn turned in the doorway, glaring. "Schlampe."

And SLAM!

"What does that even mean?" Buffy shrieked in frustration.

-------------------

"Wow, Buffy," Xander said, taking her arm. "I love that outfit. I can see two-thirds of your breasts in it. It makes it really easy to imagine you naked."

Buffy's eyes bulged. "Um... thanks?"

"No problem. So, why are you dressed like such a slut? You gonna pick up some guy and rip his heart out of his chest like you used to do to me in high school?"

"N-no..."

"Aw, that's too bad. I kind of get off on watching you inflict pain on others."

Heedless of Buffy's stare, Xander pulled her inside the club. "Can I buy you a beer?"

"Yes, I think I definitely need alcohol now."

"That was a weird comment. I feel kind of like you're giving me an opening to ask if you're okay, but I had a really hard day at work and I'm just not up for more of your whining, so I'm going to pretend that was a flippant comment and go buy our beers."

Xander paused. "Oh, hey! There's Spike! Y'know, sometimes he makes me question whether or not I'm actually heterosexual. I'll be back with the beer."

"Great," Buffy said, her eyes riveted to the dance floor.

She should have known he could dance.

No one could fight like he did, flowing with power and grace, and not have it translate... and she knew him, knew that body, knew he had rhythm... she'd felt it, pounding into her, beneath her, above her, huskily whispering her name into her neck...

Oh geez, Buffy, way to have the thoughts.

It was his fault, he was reminding her, watching him with that girl, watching as they danced, Spike's hands trailing down the girl's side, the girl's neck arched against his shoulder, their bodies grinding together...

A cold beer met her palm, and Xander was at her side.

"Oh, damn," Xander said appreciatively. "That's a tableaux, huh? The things I'd do to that girl aren't and never should be legal."

"Please," Buffy scoffed. "She's not even pretty."

"Huh, yeah, sure... in Bizarro World," Xander laughed. "What exactly about her do you find unappealing, huh? The perfect face? The waist-length curls? The huge boobies? That incredibly succulent ass? I mean, look at those lips. There's a word for girls like that."

"Slut?"

"I was gonna go with lush. Like a ripe peach, y'know? I mean, look at her. You can just tell she's the kind that doesn't hold back. She's a screamer. Maybe just a little bit naughty. Yeah, she's the kind that likes to get dirty. And Spike's got that vampire endurance, right? They're going to have a fun evening. Almost feel sorry for Spike with that chip... I'd want to bite her."

"Xander!"

"All I'm saying is, as a man, I'm a little proud of Dead Boy over there. I mean, way to celebrate getting that spell taken off. That's all I'm saying."

"Please. It's Spike. He'll totally screw it up."

"Y'know, he only turns into a total goofball when he's with you. I've been out with him when he's had to charm info out of witnesses and stuff. He's insanely smooth. I mentally took notes. I wrote them down when I got home."

Xander gestured with his beer. "See? See? She's giving him the look. He is in like Flynn, my friend."

"How stupid do you have to be, anyway? I mean, hello, she's rubbing her butt against him like she's a belt sander, room temperature, hi, maybe your date's a vampire, dumbass?"

"Don't think she cares," Xander chuckled. "Besides, it's not like he can hurt her, he's got the chip. Oh, oh... look! He's doin' the move. She is so gonna be impaled on a Spike later."

"The move? What move?"

"Oh, c'mon, that thing he does where he tilts his head and runs his tongue behind his teeth. Even Willow gets tingly when he does that."

"I don't."

"You are such a liar. You so want him. You've wanted him for years."

"I have not! And you, you were the one always saying he was too much of a loser..."

"Hello, Buffy, welcome to a concept called denial. I had a crush on you for years, of course it's going to hurt my pride."

"Huh?"

"Are you really that dense? I guess you are. C'mon, Buffy. For six years, I've stood by your side, fighting the good fight, loyal to the end. I'm exactly what you claim to want... a nice, normal guy. But no, you only get hot for the enemy. I mean, it's kind of sick. Two vampires, a dude with a God inside him that wanted to kill your sister, a couple of humans so creepy they might as well have been demons, and a science project for the Initiative. Doesn't exactly make a man feel appreciated."

"Xander, what are you saying?"

"Just talking. Oh, hey, look... they're going up to the balcony, I think it's time for that impalation we discussed earlier."

"He wouldn't," Buffy huffed.

"With her? If he doesn't, he's an idiot."

"But it's the balcony. The balcony is where he..." Buffy broke off. "Where he should not indulge in such activities!"

"Anya and I did it lots of times. It's kind of cool, y'know, getting away with something like that in a room full of people. You should try it sometime."

"I'm going up there."

Xander caught her arm. "Buffy, give the man a break. He's been chasing Unattainable You for years. Let him get on with the attaining."

"Xander, hello, I'm the Vampire Slayer. There's an innocent girl up there..."

"Hey Buff? You ever thought about getting your eyes checked?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, mostly 'cause that 'innocent girl' is vamped out and draining Spike."

"Oh my God!" Buffy squealed, moving towards the stairs only to be pulled back again.

"Buffy," Xander sighed, "I didn't say he minded."

"Well... we need him. For patrolling, and stuff. I'm not letting him get drained by some stupid vampyho when there's the good fight to fight. Now let me go."

Xander let go. "Y'know, in that shirt, you ought to just have your own balcony fun. I'd be happy to oblige..."

But Buffy was already gone, running up the stairs, slipping into the shadows of the balcony...

Oh, God.

Spike looked... oh wow.

The girl had him pressed up against the railing, his neck arched back, his face in profile as he gasped in pleasure, his lips parted, Adam's apple throbbing, his eyes half-closed.

Just looking at his face like that made sensory memory sear through Buffy, a red-hot knife of arousal stabbing through her, only to twist as Spike let out a gutteral moan, his well-remembered hands rising to tangle in the female vamp's curls.

Spike's eyelids fluttered, his head turning until his gaze locked directly on Buffy's in the darkness.

"Hold up, pet," he whispered into the woman's ear. "We've got company. Slayer company."

The girl pushed herself up, going back into human visage as she turned to glare in Buffy's direction. "Should we run for it?"

"It's okay." Spike pushed himself off the wall, shrugging his duster back into place. "Slayer, you have something to say?"

Buffy stepped out of the shadows. "Just this."

A wooden stake flew through the air, impaling the female vampire into the wall. Moments later, only the stake remained.

"You dusted my date," Spike said incredulously.

"It's what I do." Buffy pulled the stake out of the wall. "I thought it was what you did, too."

"What is this? What do you want me to do, date humans? Hello! Fangs, bloodsucker, me? Any of this ringin' a bell, Slayer?"

"Yes. Yes, it is," Buffy said, advancing on him, stake in hand.

"Bloody hell. Now you're going to stake me? Take a night off, Slayer. Besides, you don't want to move too much in that shirt -- two more inches either way, and I'm gonna be heavin' from nipple-induced flashbacks."

"Please," Buffy scoffed. "You so want me."

"To keep your pointy sticks out of my dates? Indeed I do."

"That's not what I mean," Buffy advanced on him, swinging her hips. "You know what we did up here..."

"Yes, and that's why I was tryin' to make new, pleasant memories."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to touch me."

Spike met her gaze. "I. Don't. Want. To. Touch. You."

Buffy recoiled. "I forgot. Vampires; fabulous liars."

"Well, here's some more." Spike advanced on her, his eyes locked on hers. "I don't want to touch you. I don't ever want to touch you again. I don't even want to punch you -- that's how serious I am about keepin' your cooties off me. When I think about what we did, it makes me physically nauseous."

"You're lying."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Slayer, you're irresistable. I don't know what it is that lures me in more... your ridiculous haircut that makes you look like soddin' Gidget, the way you're always a bitch to me, or that pervasive Double-Meat aroma that, guess what babe, you can't ever wash off enough for a vampire's nose."

"But you said..."

"I said a lot of things, Slayer. I was under a spell. C'mon, what, you thought you were the best I'd ever had? Bloody hell, girl, I spent a century with Dru. You're a blip on my radar... do you have any idea what kind of skills you can pick up in a century?"

He regarded her, running his tongue lightly over his teeth. "Never mind, suppose you do have an idea. Not that you ever experienced even a fraction of what I can do. That would have required you to lose control for a second; can't have that, can we?"

"I-I can lose control," Buffy stammered.

Spike pushed her against the wall casually, holding her in place with a hand, leaning over her to whisper in her ear. "You have no idea what I could have done to you, Pet. What I wanted to do to you. In my world, the dance lasts for hours... for days. I don't need to breathe. I don't need to stop. And I've had a hundred years of practice. What you experienced? Tip of the iceberg."

Buffy's knees were jelly, her breath coming in short little bursts.

"But you, Slayer... you lack imagination. Throw a punch at me, kissy-kiss, hop on and thrash, insult, run away, lather rinse repeat. I wanted to show you a world of infinite pleasure... you wanted to round all the bases in proper order, check 'em off on the little checklist Captain Cardboard taught you. I offered you a Picasso, wild and colorful and unrestrained... you wanted a paint-by-numbers fuzzy unicorn poster. And I... wanted you to be happy." Spike scoffed. "You were an utter waste of me, Slayer."

Buffy punched him in the face.

"Right," Spike chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "Step One. Well, forgive me if I skip the rest, Slayer. I know this dance... the steps are the same every bloody borin' time."

"I kill vampires, Spike. If I see you with another one, I'll kill her too."

"Better watch it, Slayer. All this threatenin' to kill my birds is remindin' me of Dru, and I was almost attracted to you for a second there." Spike sighed, then grinned. "Yep, it passed."

"Why are you doing this?" Buffy demanded. "Why are you saying all these things to me?"

Spike cocked his head. "Not gonna go for the old 'Duh, I'm evil', then? Fine. You taught me that this is the way we converse, Slayer. I'm evil, I'm a monster, I can't love. I'm beneath you, I'm just convenient... I can quote you all night, pet. Unless you'd rather I just beat you into a bloody pulp outside the police station? Sauce for the goose bein' sauce for the gander n' all."

"I hate you."

"Yeah, I'm well aware. Y'know... I'm a pretty simple fellow, Slayer, although I can't blame you for not noticin', what with the spell muckin' up the works. People who treat me decent? The Nibblet, Glinda, your Mum? I'll move heaven n' hell to help 'em. And the people who treat me like dirt get back as good as they give. I don't have a soul, pet. Don't have Angel's need to help all of humanity. Just have my need to protect me and mine."

He took a single menacing step forward. "And Slayer? The Nibblet's one of mine. I'll protect that girl until the day I die... and there is not one bloody thing you can do about it... except make that day arrive faster."

Buffy's chest heaved. "You stay away from my sister."

"I won't. I'm the closest thing to a father that girl has. The only thing like a father she's had in reality. And I'm not abandoning her, especially not when you're too bloody self-centered to help her."

"I..."

"Oh, boo-hoo, Slayer, is it time for another chorus of 'They Ripped Me Out Of Heaven'? They tried to help you, you daft bint. They thought you were stuck in a nightmarish hell dimension, like the one you sent Angel to. You think you're the only one in pain? Open your eyes and look around you! Every friend you have is in pain, and you're whingin' about being in hell!"

Spike took one step closer. "I'll tell you somethin', Slayer. If you're in hell, it's a hell you made for yourself. You've got friends, family... you ignore them. You're qualified for hundreds of jobs... you flip burgers. Your bloody soulmate or whatever Angel is down the bleedin' road, and you push him away. Everyone wants to help you, Slayer. Believe it or not, even me. But you don't want help. You want misery."

Buffy swallowed hard. "Are you quite finished?"

"One more thing," Spike said. "If you love your sister enough to die for her, then you ought to bloody well love her enough to live for her. Unless dying was never about Dawn? Unless dying was just about you givin' up? That little Slayer death-wish of which we spoke?"

"Oh... now you want to dance?" Buffy challenged, crossing her arms.

Spike smirked. "I don't want to kill you, pet. You're beneath me."

And he faded into the shadows, leaving Buffy gasping against the railing.