CHAPTER 8

Buffy walked him slowly through her kitchen still conscious of his blood on her hands and on his face. He shivered against her warm skin, she was so hot against his skin. She had never noticed before then the real contrast between their skin. She had noticed the paleness of his skin but he before he had never had felt cold. Now his skin felt frozen next to hers as she helped him through the kitchen. She sat him down softly on one of the breakfast islands stools as she put one of Dawn's blood packs into the microwave. As she waited for the shrill bleep of the microwave she watched as Spike shrunk into himself, his shoulders slumped and body language so different to the vampire she had fought and slept with, she wanted to call Angel and ask how he had at first dealt with his soul. But then she remembered how different these two vampires were without their soul, Spike loved her even when he was soulless, Angelus wanted to torture her because she made him feel. These two vamps were cut from a different cloth as her grandmother would have said. Spike shivered softly as she opened the blood packet and poured it into the mug. He shivered as if he dreaded and loved the smell of the warm blood that was coming to him.

As she handed him the mug he both purred and frowned at the mug which he brought to his lips as if it was a tonne weight, both needing and loathing it. Once the warm syrup hit his lips he drank greedily as his mouth turned in both pleasure and disgust at the act. She stood by the sink and watched him remembering how cocky he had once been, how he had teased her, how they had danced together matching each blow how they had fought side by side his chip her excuse for not killing him.

"I've missed you." He sighed softly as he placed the mug down on the island.

"I miss you too." She whispered in such a low tone that even his vampric senses almost missed it.

"Kill me Buffy, I deserver to die." He sighed looking at her with his bandaged eyes, his shoulders still slumped in abject defeat, all his body language told her that he wanted death some hundred years after his natural life ended.

"No you don't." she said coming closer to him smelling his dried blood on them both.

"I hurt you more then Angel." He whispered as he she came closer he could sense her and each nerve ending told him to reach out but his heart and soul told him to shudder at the sympathy touch.

"You loved me more then anyone even without a soul." She sighed as she came next to him, her warm breath making his cold skin tremble.

"Liar" he sighed as he pushed the half full mug away from him.

"You held your promise to look after Dawn even when I was 'gone'. I lead you on I won't excuse what you tried to do in the bathroom but I know that I helped drive you to it, you scared me there more then you ever scared me."

"You should kill me for that. I would kill myself but I am such a coward. You will never forgive me I know. I don't want you to forgive me. I am actually surprised you let me into your house again." He said sensing her move even closer to him.

"Spike, William." Just her saying his name made him want to cry and his shoulders shook. Her hands took him and slowly she helped lift him from the stool and as he wrapped his arm around her tiny frame as she guided him down towards the basement.