"What are you reading?"

A quiet voice broke into Spike's thoughts.

He looked up from the pages of his book and cocked his head to one side as he found Buffy watching him, a tiny frown wrinkling her nose. She'd been sleeping for what seemed like days and he hadn't expected her to wake anytime soon, the physical and mental exhaustion had clearly taken a heavy toll on her.

He smiled slightly.

It was nice, almost relieving, to see her slowly getting back to normal. Her face and body language as she sat watching him were almost childlike; her knees hugged against her chest as she rested her chin on top of them and looked at him. He could see she was still tired, the lack of food and emotional drain still making her low on energy.

But still, it was nice to finally hear her voice again.

"Silas Marner." Spike replied and held his book up with the cover facing her, as if showing her would answer the questions he knew it was going to raise.

He wished it would raise questions from her, that seeing him reading would give her ammunition to tease him and therefore talk some more. He didn't want to see her close up again. Over the past two days, she'd been mostly sleeping but the small amount of time she had been awake had seen her varying between alert and withdrawn. Her constant switching of mindsets had been causing him concern but each time she withdrew back into her shell she seemed to be spending less time there before becoming alert again-it was progress, he supposed.

"Sounds very dull." Buffy hugged her knees a little tighter as a sudden chill swept over her and she found herself wanting to ask him to come closer.

He was sitting in the corner of the room, leaning back in a chair as his feet rested on another one he had drawn near to him.

The distance between them seemed like a vast and treacherous ocean to her.

She hugged her knees a little tighter and closed her eyes.

Spike frowned as she sighed. He could almost see her slipping away again. Standing up, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, resuming the position he'd spent most of the day in while she'd been sleeping peacefully.

He'd watched her.

Her round cheeks and sweet lips softened by her slumber, and her golden hair spread softly across the pillow.

Those same cheeks and lips that were now pale from fatigue again.

"Hungry?" He leant forwards slightly so he could look at her face.

She shook her head.

He knew she was hungry. He had listened to her stomach growling louder than he ever could.

"Thirsty then?" Spike tried again. During her long sleep he'd managed to grab hold of one of his still loyal minions and ordered him to bring pig's blood and human food, along with some drinks.

Pig's blood.

The short stocky minion had looked at him like he was insane but he couldn't bring himself to feed on human blood-not while he was looking after Buffy.

He was definitely done for now; even loyal minions had a habit of spreading gossip behind their master's backs. Word would be out that Spike, master vampire, was holed up in his room with a half-insane Slayer and was asking for bagged blood. By the time he finally left the lair, his reputation would be deader than he was.

He raised his brows as Buffy opened her eyes and met his. A jolt ran along every nerve in his body as her pupils narrowed on his.

She nodded.

Spike found himself smiling wide at her as a feeling somewhere near elation swept through him. He checked himself and casually grabbed a bottle of water off the side table. Unscrewing the cap, he arched a brow at the drink as if it were bitter poison to himself and then held it out to her.

"Small sips, love…don't want you drowning yourself or choking now, do we?" He realised before he finished the sentence that he sounded like a complete nonce. Talking to her like that when she was distant and dreamy had been acceptable but speaking to her that way when she was almost her normal self was going to get him laughed at.

She didn't laugh.

She smiled warmly and took the bottle from him, her fingers slightly brushing against his as she grasped it firmly.

Buffy stared at her hand for a moment before taking a sip of the water. Her fingers seemed to hum where his had touched them and it didn't bother her like it should have.

Keeping hold of her water, she looked down at the book Spike was still holding in one hand, his finger serving as a bookmark as he attended to her needs. She cocked her head to one side as she looked at the cover. It had the kind of one that said it was old-another literary classic that she'd never heard of but he had.

Spike looked down at her bare legs, the wounds on them starting to heal thanks to his vampire ability and her built in Slayer healing.

Placing his book down face first on the side table so he wouldn't lose his page, he stood up and walked over to the clothing he'd gathered up for her while she'd been sleeping. He turned and looked back at her-she was staring at her toes, her eyes distant once more. Grabbing a pair of black combats off the pile of clothes, he held them up for inspection and shrugged. They were going to be about three sizes too big for her and wouldn't go with his red shirt, but they were the best he had to offer.

He took them over to Buffy where she was continuing to stare at her feet in a semi-catatonic state. Sitting down next to her he looked at her legs and thought about how he was going to get her into the trousers now that she was out of her head again.

"Buffy…love…" He cocked his head to one side as he leant over, looking up into her face.

It was a mask of emptiness.

He tensed his jaw and frowned, the feeling of having lost her again making him ache inside and wonder if she was ever going to be the same again.

"Buffy?" Spike whispered and reached out tentatively to touch her knee.

She didn't move.

Her eyes remained fixed on her feet.

He gingerly brushed his fingers against her knee and let his eyes close slightly as her skin warmed his.

He shook her knee gently.

"Buffy?"

She was definitely gone again.

Taking the bottle of water from her hand, he placed it down on the small table beside her and watched her hand fall lax against her knee.

"Let's get you decent…not going to hurt you." He didn't know why he was continuing to tell her that; he knew that she trusted him to touch her but part of him didn't trust himself. After allowing himself to kiss her soft bronzed skin while tending to her wounds, he'd fallen down a slippery slope that had led to watching her sleep and stroking her hair, and from there to just wanting to be in contact with her-to touch her hand, to feel her warm skin against his.

To be on the receiving end of her pretty smile.

Carefully lifting each of her feet, he placed them into the legs of the combat trousers and eased them up until he reached her bent knee. He slowly straightened her legs out and pulled the trousers up to her thighs. As his fingers brushed against them, he inhaled deeply, savouring the way his skin hummed when it touched hers.

He frowned.

Now came the tricky part.

No matter how much she trusted him in her half conscious state, he knew she would kill him if he merely brushed his hands against her backside by accident.

"Lend a hand, Buffy…be a love…" Spike searched her eyes but they remained fixed on nothingness. "Then don't sodding kill me when I'm done. It's your own fault for not being very helpful."

Spike took a deep breath and swallowed it hard, cursing himself for losing the fraction of control he had over his temper.

Shimmying the combat trousers under her backside, he rolled his eyes closed as his thumbs brushed against her satin panties and his mouth turned dry as he tried to swallow again. Concentrating wholly on the feeling of her smooth warm bottom against his hands, he listened intently to her heartbeat as it echoed around his ears. A slow steady thumping that sent a jolt through him with each beat, a pulse of anticipation and desire.

Finally getting them up to her waist, he hurriedly zipped them up and buttoned them before walking as far away from her as possible without leaving the room. He ran his fingers over his hair while taking long deep breaths to steady himself.

He looked down at his hands.

They echoed with the feeling of her.

"Bollocks." Spike growled and clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to take out his frustration on the wall, the furniture-anything. But he couldn't do it. He knew that if he made the slightest violent motion he would scare her even in her dazed state.

He couldn't do that.

He turned to look at her. She was still staring blankly at the end of the bed. Walking over to the side table next to the bed, he picked up his book and sat down next to her, leaning his back against the headboard as he started reading again.

Buffy blinked.

Her eyes felt sore. Dry. Unresponsive.

She frowned.

Slowly looking around the room she paused on every dark corner, wanting to see if the shadows moved or if there was anything there waiting for her. Nothing.

She moved her eyes slowly back to the bed, tracing the worn patterns on the patchy cover and stopping when she reached her feet.

She was wearing trousers.

Black combats that looked about five sizes too big to be hers. She inhaled slowly.

Spike.

Turning her head to look at him she found him laying next to her, stretched out on his back with his eyes closed and his hands clasped over his stomach like a dead person in a coffin.

She looked at them and then at his stomach. He wasn't breathing but somehow that didn't bother her like it had with Angel. She accepted that Spike was a vampire-a demon. He didn't try to be human; it just seemed to plague him, and in sleep he finally showed the most noticeable trait of the undead-lack of breathing.

Her eyes narrowed on his chest, trying to discern any tiny movement that could be construed as breathing. She knew it was a reflex while he was awake, a memory of how his body used to function that his brain hadn't let slip away. She figured that it also helped vampires fit in while roaming the outside world-if they breathed then they passed for human in most eyes.

But in hers, he would always be a vampire. No matter how hard he tried to hide it from the world, he couldn't hide it from her.

Feeling inexplicably drawn to him, she found herself ghost caressing his hands and then moving them up to his chest and from there, she weaved a trail up to his lips. She remembered them stained with her blood, a contented smile on his face as he gave over to the feeling that her strong blood induced in him. She smiled.

Cocking her head to one side, she drew her hand away as he twitched, his hands making sharp frantic movements as though he was being attacked.

"Blood…wet…slipping…" He swatted at something as his brows knit into a frown. Buffy's look turned curious-she never realised vampires could dream. "Drown in you…love…Buffy…Buffy? Buffy!"

Spike shot up in bed, his breathing coming fast and his eyes wide with fright. He stared at the far wall as he panted hard, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Buffy touched his shoulder.

He jumped and in a lightning fast movement turned to face her.

"Jesus…" Spike heaved a long sigh as his breathing came under control, the sight of her watching him enough to force some composure about him.

She frowned, wanting nothing more than to ask him what he'd been seeing and why he'd sounded so panicked when he was calling her name loud enough to wake every minion within a mile radius.

"…Scared me, love." He smiled shakily and she knew that there was a double meaning to that statement-she hadn't just scared him in reality, she'd scared him in his sleep too.

Buffy edged towards him. An overwhelming desire to comfort him flooded her veins as she locked eyes with him. Reaching her hand out she hooked it around the back of his head and drew him down to her neck, cradling him roughly against her as she closed her eyes.

Spike breathed in deeply, the warmth of her body calming him as her blood called to him and he felt something deeper happening between them. She was offering him comfort, trying to soothe him after his nightmare and she seemed to be perfectly aware of what she was doing.

Nuzzling her neck, he closed his eyes as he sighed away the lingering images of his dream. He'd been running in the halls of the lair trying to find her, could hear her screaming and her heart beating loudly in his ears as the pain she was feeling echoed through his body. He shuddered.

Buffy let her cheek rest against his as she ran her fingers in circles on his back. Blinking languidly she realised what she was doing, how she was holding his head against her neck and the danger of the position she was in. She felt her heartbeat pick up as she slowly moved her cheek away from his.

"Spike…"

The sound of his name pronounced so shakily on her lips was enough to bring Spike out of his reverie. He sat back and looked into her eyes, they were bright and watching him closely but he could still see a lingering edge of pain in them.

"Love?" Spike tilted his head to one side and smiled slightly, hoping silently that she would stay a while this time before slipping back into her daze.

"What you said…about me…about Giles."

Spike frowned as he tried to piece together what she was saying. Running over the past few days, he searched for something he'd said that matched up with what she was asking.

He raised a brow as it came to him.

"About Slayers?"

She nodded.

"Hardly a nice bed-time story, pet, much as I'd love to tell you I don't really think it's my place…the Council…"

"Won't tell me." Buffy cut in and Spike frowned for a split second as he recognised the sharp tone of her voice-she was definitely feeling a little more like her old self.

"Fine. Don't go blaming me when you don't like what you hear."

Buffy paused for a moment as she considered asking Spike not to tell her, his warning about her not liking what he had to say had been enough to put a small seed of doubt into her head. She took a deep breath and met his eyes.

"Tell me."

Spike shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed and looked deep into her eyes, they were sparkling defiantly again and he almost smiled at seeing her so near to normal.

"I read this, once, in a book kept deep in the lower recesses of the Council of Watchers offices…was there looking for some book to aid my latest scheme or possibly to help heal Dru…can't remember now. There was this book, or books even…kept locked in this little cage right at the back of the room. Thick with dust. Couldn't resist taking a peek, you know? See something all locked away it just piques your interest."

Buffy nodded again and hugged her knees as the uneasy feeling in her stomach worsened-if the Council had kept them locked up and shut away from the world then they were probably there for a good reason. She got the feeling that the cage would be the kind of area that only Quentin Travers and a selected few would have access to.

"Broke the lock…locks actually…several of them, each as big as my fist. Heavy doors too, thick iron bars that no one would be able to cut through without a little magic. I remember seeing this book, big, heavy, locked tight with a clasp and old-fashioned padlock. Took it off the shelf and blew the dust off the cover. Wasn't in English, bloody Sumerian as usual. God knows why all books that are old have to be written in that sodding language."

She raised her brows and gave him a look that said to get on with it.

Spike arched a brow.

"My story…like to set the scene." He frowned and looked down at the bed covers as his expression turned pensive. "Where was I?"

"Sumerian." Buffy stated flatly, resisting the sudden urge to smile at the thoughtful look that flitted across his face.

"Sumerian." He repeated with a sigh. "Anyway. Couldn't resist reading it there and then, had a few hours until sunrise. It was about Slayers, the first Slayer."

"I've seen her before. I think…I've had dreams…visions I guess, and she was in them."

Spike smiled at how she sounded so like her normal self, her voice laced with intrigue and heavy with thought.

"It told of demons, how they ruled the earth long before the age of man. Following the demons came the men and three of these men found a girl, a girl to fight the demons." He raised his eyes to meet hers again as she blinked. When he was satisfied that his proceeding wasn't going to shock her he continued. "They took the girl and chained her to the earth, connected her to it, physically. Then they…they…"

"They what, Spike?" She frowned as a shiver ran up her spine, part of her wanting to know how the first Slayer was made and part of her not wanting to know.

"Took the girl…and gave her a heart."

"A heart?"

"Of a demon." He said quietly, almost hoping that she wouldn't hear it so she didn't get upset.

Buffy shook her head as her eyes grew wide. She remembered Spike saying that she belonged in the night with the demons and him. "No."

"Apparently, it was the only way they knew to make her strong enough to fight the demons for them. They gave her the heart of one, the power of a demon." Spike fought the desire to reach out and comfort her as he watched her place her hand over her breastbone.

"They…no…Giles would've told me…no…" She shook her head firmly.

"I'm not sure your watcher knows, love…this book was pretty well hidden, intentionally forgotten about. The men used the girl, made her fight for them…and tied her to the world so she would always be there to protect it, in one form or another."

"They used her…hid behind a girl who they played with…" She swallowed hard as she thought about what he'd said. Her eyes fell to rest on the bed and the gap between her and Spike. "They made her part demon…my abilities…the healing, the senses, the strength…all demon…"

"Probably vampire." Spike said nonchalantly and then instantly regretted it when her head shot up and her eyes met his, they were wide with shock.

"Oh god…how could they?" She pressed one hand against her mouth as the other clutched her chest. Suddenly her attempts to lead a normal life really did seem completely redundant. She could never be a normal girl when she was partly demon.

"I'm sure you're not at all demonic, love…what they did, they did to the first Slayer, not you. You just carry the essence of her and all the Slayers before you…you're human, register as human to me…" He started to wish he'd told her she didn't want to know. He could see in her eyes that she was panicking deep down inside, her pupils dilated as she stared deep into his eyes as if he could take it all back and make the hurt go away.

Buffy tried to shrug it off but the revelation that she was part demon, even if it was only in essence, was too much to just ignore.

Spike heaved a sigh and watched her as she looked around the room, her face heavy with thought as she moved her eyes from object to object.

She had always had her suspicions about the Slayer line, but this was too much. To think that men created her-they experimented with an innocent girl in order to make a weapon, one that could defend them against the demons and she was the end result so far. A girl with the essence of a demon inside her; all her abilities that she had always depended upon had come from her demon side, the Slayer in her.

Holding her stomach she frowned hard at the far wall as she tried to let it all sink in. It wasn't Spike's fault that they had done this to her, but she was holding him partly responsible. His warning echoed through her head again. He'd known she wouldn't like what she was going to hear, he'd warned her that it was going to be painful.

Now that she knew about her origins she found she couldn't ignore them, before had seemed so uncomplicated-she hadn't really questioned where her power had come from, she'd just used it. She was part demon. Her powers linked her to the other demons and the night. Spike was right-the powers she had matched those of a vampire, of him. The men must have given the girl the heart of a vampire.

She swallowed hard, suddenly wanting to be away from Spike and anything resembling a demon.

Her heart ached.

She gave a sideward glance to Spike. He was watching her with concern shining in his clear blue eyes and it only made her ache inside even more. Deep down she felt a tug, a desire to stay by his side no matter how wrong it felt.

"I was wrong…" Spike said quietly as he met her eyes again and saw the struggle within her. His arms ached to hold her tight against him and comfort her. The time he'd spent with her had only made it painfully clear to him just how wrong he'd been about his own motives for helping her recover. Now that he had finally admitted to them and she was recovered, there was nothing more he could do but accede defeat. As much as he wanted her, as much as he wanted to be with her, he could never make her his-it was down to her to choose him.

"Wrong?"

"It was wrong of me, it was wrong…you were right, no one owns you, not me, not Angel, not anyone. You need someone who can match you, not master you. Someone who can be there for you when you need them…someone who knows you." Spike gave her a half smile as she frowned at him. "I'll go…away. I'll leave town, go to LA or New York, somewhere that I won't be under your feet and you'll forget about what happened here…figured I've outstayed my welcome in SunnyD. Don't want to meet a dusty ending…not at your hands. You can go…I'll take you home as soon as it gets dark."

Standing up he gave one last look to her before turning and walking out of the door.

Buffy stared blankly at the door as it closed, a sudden coldness filling the room as she listened to him pacing the hall just on the other side of the wall. She felt the tears in her eyes slip onto her cheeks and curled up on the bed, a weight of sadness pressing down on her heart. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't go far but she couldn't understand why he wouldn't stay in the room, why he'd felt the sudden need to put a distance between them.

It dawned on her.

He was doing it gently.

Breaking the fragile thread that seemed to connect them now in phases, as though he was trying to lessen the pain of them parting and make it easier on them.

She sighed into her knees and stared at the door as she reached out with her senses, feeling him there, motionless in the hall and probably staring at the door just like she was.

Swallowing the confused emotions that whirled around inside her head and stomach, she wished it were dark already so she could leave and get away. The feeling of being so comfortable with Spike-knowing that it was all coming to an abrupt end-and the new knowledge about her Slayer origins, was making her head ache.

Closing her eyes, she silently counted the seconds as they passed, each one bringing her closer to night fall and seeing her friends again.

A weight of guilt added to that of her sadness and confusion.

She hadn't thought about them at all during her confinement with Spike; the only person on her mind had been him. She wondered what they were doing. They would be panicked by her disappearance and she knew that they wouldn't have told her mother, she would be sitting at home oblivious to her daughter's MIA status.

Spike leant against the wall and allowed his back to slide down it until he was sitting hunched up and balancing on his toes, his backside resting against the cold stone behind him.

He couldn't explain what was happening to himself and in part, he didn't want to. When he'd walked out of the room, he'd felt drawn back to her as though there was an invisible string connecting them and he was trying to wander further than it would allow him. He sighed and lit up a cigarette, seeking solace in the comforting way it warmed his lungs and smoothed the tension from his body.

If just leaving the room had been that hard then he dreaded to think how hard leaving her with her friends and heading to LA would be. It had to be done though-he could see that now. His futile attempts to be with her wouldn't work. She wouldn't accept them right now. She wasn't one to be mollycoddled and fussed over. He needed to leave her in order for her to get her head straight about the things he'd told her and her feelings for him, if she had any.

He hoped she did.

When he'd told her he couldn't know her because she didn't know herself, he knew he'd been right. She really didn't know herself and the power she held in her grasp. She didn't know because she couldn't accept who she was. He longed to lead her down the path that would allow her to see that the power she had was a blessing, not a terrible thing to be shunned like she always had. But she needed to be strong and discover it for herself.

It was the only way.

He would leave for LA and hopefully he'd see her again someday, and she'd finally know who she is and what she wanted.

She'd finally accept what it meant to be the Slayer.

Finally accept her true self.

Closing his eyes, he took a long drag on his cigarette and let his arms hang limply as his elbows rested on his knees. He could feel the sun starting its slow, lazy decent from the sky. In a matter of hours, she'd be back safe with her friends and he'd be gone.

It was the only way.