Can the ocean keep from rushing to the shore?
It's just impossible.
If I had you could I ever ask for more?
It's just impossible.
And tomorrow, should you ask me for the world
Somehow I'd get it,
I would sell my very soul And not regret it
For to live without your love
Is just impossible

From "It's Impossible", a song by Perry Cuomo lyrics by Sid Wayne

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            Buffy unleashed a series of punches and kicks at the punching bad in the corner of the community gym.  There was only about an hour until closing time so the gym was almost completely devoid of people.  That's why Buffy heard Spike approaching.

            The slayer didn't turn, she merely continued her assault on the punching bag, speaking to Spike with her back turned to him.

"How'd you find me?" Buffy asked.

"Had a little chat with your mum.  She was kind enough to invite me inside for a cup of cocoa," Spike said.  This caused Buffy to turn, her hazel eyes widening in panic.  Spike picked up on her fear and realized the cause.  "Don't worry slayer.  I didn't hurt your mum--not my style.  She's decent people,  no need to kill her."

"Thank you," Buffy murmured, looking down at her bare feet.

            Spike fidgeted slightly, fighting off the urge to light a cigarette.

"Shall we fight?" He asked conversationally, after a moment.

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy said, pulling a stake from the waistband of her yoga pants.  She took a minute to notice that Spike was dressed in the same attire that he had been yesterday.  As Buffy crouched into fighting position Spike shrugged off his black duster and threw it carelessly aside.

            The fight began with full concentration on both sides.  Like yesterday, the fight began with both competitors equally matched.  However, after about fifteen minutes Spike's experience and fighting skills shone through.  After all, he was a one-hundred year old master vampire.  And she was a watcher-less slayer with one year's experience.  Spike had pinned the slayer's arms by the side of her head, and was straddling her waist.

"Now this is just pathetic….what would your watcher say?" Spike asked mockingly.

"I don't have a watcher," Buffy ground out, wriggling against Spike's tight hold on her.  That comment caught the vampire off-guard and he loosened his hold slightly.  Not enough to allow the slayer to escape, but enough to let her know he wanted her to continued talking.  "He died earlier this year," Buffy explained, hoping that Spike didn't question her further.

"I can tell," Spike said softly, loosening his hold on the slayer even more.  In fact, he completely relinquished his hold on her arms and was simply sitting on the slayer, positioned slightly below her hip.  "You're kicks are good.  But your punches, they need work."

"What?" Buffy asked incredulously.  It was one thing for an enemy to mock her fighting technique, but it was entirely another for a master vampire to ignore the fact that he could have gone for a kill, and instead give helpful tips on fighting.

"You're punches.  They need work.  Here, let me show you," The vampire offered, removing himself from the slayer and stretching out a hand for Buffy to grab.  The slayer ignored it, getting to her feet on her own and watching with interest as Spike kicked off his combat boots and stood next to Buffy, barefoot on the mats next to the punching bag.

"You punch like this," Spike explained, punching the bag.  However, he didn't simply punch it, he rotated his entire body forward.  "You open up your body to an attack.  Then, once you take a punch or kick to the stomach, you don't rebound."

Thoroughly confused, the slayer ventured a tentative "what should I do?"

"When you punch you want to immediately turn your body.  Only for a brief second should your stomach be exposed.  It's important to rotate, as it does add power, but then you want to turn back so that you can avoid getting hit," The vampire explained, demonstrating the correct way to punch.

            Buffy was about to attempt the kind of punch Spike had shown her, when the manager of the gym came in and asked them to leave.

"Oh my god, it's eleven o'clock!" Buffy said, hurrying to put on her sandals.

"So what?" Spike asked.

"My mom is going to kill me.  I told her I'd be home by ten."  Buffy fled from the gym without so much as a backward glance.  Leaving Spike standing next to a still swinging punching bag.

            That morning the vampire found it hard to sleep.  He wished for the first time in ages to be able to go outside during the day.  After all, he couldn't help but wonder what the slayer would look like in the sun.  Hair shinning, eyes sparkling.  Creamy expanse of skin for him to run his hand over…Spike drifted off into a dream-filled sleep.

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