Summary: In an alternate season 6 Spike fights to keep Buffy from falling apart without descending into the toxic relationship we saw in cannon.

B is for Blood

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

-Emily Dickenson, Wild nights- Wild nights

In the end it all came back to blood. Blood made him who he was, made him greater than the useless prat he'd been as a human. Blood returned his dark princess to him, delivered her from the brink of death. It just as swiftly stole her away from him. Forever bound to Angelus- by blood.

Blood brought him to the slayer's doorstep following his agonizing stint with the soldiers. His need for it, clawing it's way up his gut as he was rendered unable to eat. Blood bound them together. His need for it, her inability to kill him while he couldn't kill her.

When he fell in love with her it was probably one of the few things in his unlife that wasn't directly inspired by the sticky red substance. No, it had brought him into her world but he stayed there for her. Her power, her strength. Loving her was unwise but then, Spike never had been smart when it came to love.

He'd warned them, of course. It was always about blood. Blood is life but- by the same coin- blood was death. Death was hers. He never once wished it had been the niblet instead. He was in love with Buffy but he loved Dawn just as recklessly. She foolishly treated him as though he were normal, as though he were human. Foolish but damned if he didn't love the chit for it.

Blood brought her back. The blood of an innocent. O'course the sodding innocent was Bambi and he was still incredibly bloody surprised that it had worked. It had brought her back and it had stained her knuckles. He could still almost feel her hands in his as he tended to them. Leaving her in her coffin, he'd had a good mind to go rip the throats out of all her friends. Chip be damned.

Walking away after she'd kissed him during the horrifying musical incident had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do...and he spent twenty years with Angelus. She'd regret it though. She wasn't her. Not really. She was damaged, broken and he didn't know how exactly to help her but he had a general idea of how not to make her worse.

So he stayed in the shadows. Watching out for her, a silent shoulder for her to cry on- to lean on- when she so chose. She resented his rejection, he knew that but he also thought a part of her might kind of respect him for that. It had been a long time since he felt like the slayer respected him.

It hurt, of course, when she found some random wanker to get her jollies off with but still he stayed firm. The steel running through him surprising even him.

It was blood that seeped out of him, dripping onto the hard concrete and mingling with the dirty rainwater as she left him in a bloody heap at the mouth of the alley. Blood animated him, and the few pints left within him were all that allowed him to drag himself to his feet and stumble his way into a nearby building, away from the impending dawn.

Maybe he was done with her now. He had fought every instinct to take her. To make her his. To bring her into the dark with him. He had fought to keep her in the sunshine, to infuse that intangible brightness back into her being. He had fought to save her from herself and she had beat him bloody and left him to the sunrise without so much as a second glance.

He didn't seek her out after that.

~BTVS~

The world was harsh, cold and unwelcoming. Part of her had always known that, it was impossible not to in her line of work. It had always been in her peripherals though. She'd almost always been able to focus on the bright side. The positives. Heaven had changed that. Heaven was...indescribable. Warm and comforting, everything and nothing. It was her and she was it.

Now earth was darker and colder. Harsher and more uninviting than ever before. It was downright painful just to be. She played along despite that. For her sister and her friends. The only person she didn't have to pretend for wasn't even a person. Only...in some ways he was more tangible, more of a person to her than the humans she surrounded herself with.

After awhile she found herself wanting him. He rejected her and it only made her want him more because she knew that he was still in love with her. She could see it in his eyes every time she bothered to look in them. She avoided him for a few weeks after he spurned her before eventually giving in and patrolling with him again. Seeking him out. Confiding in him what she couldn't say to anyone else and trusting him to take her muttered secrets to the grave.

Sometimes she laughed and would realize that it wasn't forced. He'd say something witty and it would just bubble up and out of her. He'd look at her as though she were the best thing he'd ever seen, that soft smile lifting the edges of his lips before grabbing a bottle and downing a big gulp to cover it up. While he was the only one she could be open with, he was hiding from her. She didn't blame him, given their past and her initial reaction to his feelings for her. Maybe if she were more...her she'd tell him he didn't have to. She never did though.

He never pushed her for anything but he never acquiesced to her desire for him either. So she went elsewhere. She had never been the one night stand type but he wouldn't oblige her and she needed to try and feel something.

It hadn't worked. She'd learned with Riley- once he wasn't 'roided up anymore- that human's just didn't quite do it for her. Not strong enough. She hadn't fooled Spike though, maybe she hadn't wanted to. She'd wound her way through the Bronze until she'd come up beside his position at the bar and she watched as his nostrils flared as he caught the scent of her recent liaison. His eyes had narrowed and he'd frowned but hadn't acknowledged it verbally and she had been equal parts relieved and irritated.

"You're spiraling, Slayer," he muttered as he swirled his whiskey in the tumbler. She just shrugged and took the glass from him, meeting his dark eyes over the bottom of the glass as she sipped some of the dark liquid. Her whole body shuddered and her face screwed up in distaste as the amber liquid hit her tongue. Some of the darkness in his gaze lightened to amusement.

Friends. Sometimes she thought that's what they were. Real friends. The kind that knew the darkest bits of each other and still stuck around. She had thought that was what she'd had with Willow and Xander but...well, things had changed following her resurrection. If she were honest though, she'd acknowledge that Spike was a real friend to her. She was not the same to him. At that moment of time she was incapable.

She proved as much when he'd stopped her from turning herself in after she thought she'd killed Katrina. Proved it when she beat him down, taking every ounce of anger, hatred and despair that she was so determined to bottle up and ignore out on him. Proved it when she'd turned and walked away without a backwards glance.

It wasn't until the next morning, when she awoke to the sun filtering in behind her haphazardly closed curtains that the possible consequences of her actions hit her full force. She'd rushed into clothes, threw her hair up into a messy ponytail and run out the door, ignoring Willow, Tara and Dawn as they worriedly asked what was wrong.

Her feet took her back to that alley automatically as her mind just screamed one word over and over again. "Please!"

He wasn't there but then he wouldn't be, would he? He'd either gotten himself to safety or he'd dusted and left no trace of his presence. She searched the buildings immediately surrounding the alley, her stomach hurting more and more as it clenched with fear and disgust with every empty building. She ran full out to his crypt. She wasn't even all they way through the door and she already knew he wasn't there.

Something happened then. A dam broke open and she felt. More than just a fleeting moment of amusement or a glancing second of anger. She felt it all and she felt it completely. She sank to her knees as the first sob broke free. Wave after wave crashed over her. Sorrow, anger, hatred. Despair, pain, betrayal. Guilt.

She didn't leave until well after dark. Waiting, hoping that he would come crashing through the door. Bloodied and bruised and still undead. He didn't though. After an eternity she stumbled out and returned home. She ignored her housemates as she holed up in her room. She'd killed him. The one person who had tried so hard to be what she needed. The one person who didn't pressure her to be what he needed. He was dead and it was her fault. She'd repaid him by beating him down while he let her and leaving him for the sun.

~BTVS~

Things had been...different lately.. Better, kind of. Buffy was more herself than she had been since her resurrection. She'd sat down with them and had told them what it was like being pulled out of Heaven. It was a punch in the gut and Tara was appalled with herself for allowing it to happen. It was something she and Anya shared. That knowledge that what there were doing was wrong on a level that was nearly beyond comprehension. Willow hadn't realized it, hadn't wanted to. Xander just wanted his friend back. Tara and Anya though...they knew better.

That had been just a few weeks ago and things had started to progress from there. Buffy had distanced herself from everyone but Dawn but they were understanding. Willow was having a hard time with it and Tara could feel her itching to fix it with magic but so far she'd been refraining, just barely and it was causing tension between the girlfriends. There was a deep sorrow and guilt in Buffy's aura still. Something that hadn't lessened with her confession. Something that was relatively new actually. She just wasn't sure what had caused it, although she hadn't been so blind as to not notice that Spike hadn't been around in weeks.

A noise sounded from behind her and she twirled around, a stake clutched tightly in her hand as a figure melted out of the shadows followed by a second and a third. She couldn't help the scream that erupted from her as they quickly advanced. Their fangs descended, faces shifting as they attacked. She conjured up a spell as she struggled to fight them off. One of them blasted away from her when the light from her spell hit it but one of the others wrenched her body into his, fangs slicing into her shoulder. The searing pain from it ripped through her arm and her fingers involuntarily flexed and released the stake.

She screamed again and then the pain stopped. A deep, rumbling growl sounded out from behind her and she spun to the side, trying to keep all of the vampires in her field of vision. Relief flooded her as she caught sight of the one responsible for the growling. "Spike," she breathed out.

He was moving in a flash. The battle between him and the two remaining vampires, the one she had blasted was back on his feet, was brief and brutal. Dust floated lazily down to the ground, highlighted by the streetlamps until all the was left was her and Spike. The latter lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

"You're bleeding, luv," he pointed out and the stinging pain came back to her as the adrenaline started to fade.

"He b-bit me," she said, shock still evident in her tone and eyes.

"C'mon, let's get you home," he said as his sympathetic eyes took in her battered form.

"I wasn't s-s-supposed to be out but W-willow and I had a fight and I jus-just needed some space," she stuttered, the need to explain her stupidity overwhelming her.

"Shh, luv," he muttered as he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it firmly to her bleeding shoulder.

"S-so s-stupid," she mumbled.

Spike chuckled a bit. "Not you're brightest move, I'll wager, but you're far from stupid, pet," he replied. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe him just then.

~BTVS~

"How long has she been gone?" Buffy asked as Willow continued to freak out.

"Hours! We had a disagreement and she left to cool off but it's been hours and it's dark," the redhead replied, distraught.

"Okay, I'll go find her," Buffy vowed, grabbing an axe and her trusty stake just as the door burst open. She blinked once. Twice. Three times but what she was seeing didn't change. Willow rushed forward to embrace Tara, who was leaning heavily on Spike. A clearly not dead Spike. Or well, anymore dead than usual, anyway.

She didn't really hear anything as Willow babbled in the background, the only thing she could focus on was him. Then he spoke and everything sharpened again. "Just the one bite, didn't nick the artery and the bleeding has slowed but she lost a bit," he informed them as he gently set the blonde witch down on the couch. Buffy's eyes tracked his every move in disbelief.

Willow was thanking him repeatedly, Tara was smiling at him, grateful and tired. He gave a sharp nod, and turned to leave. Dawn rushed toward him though and threw her arms around him. Buffy could tell he was caught off guard but he responded quickly enough as he returned her sister's embrace. "You haven't been around in weeks!" she complained sullenly as she withdrew.

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. "Had some things to tend to," he replied evasively. "Gotta get back to it, actually. See ya later, bit," he bid goodbye and was out the door before Buffy could make her lips move. He hadn't so much as glanced at her. It was a slap in the face and she didn't blame him one bit.

She had been so sure that he'd dusted. She'd visited his crypt every day and night for a week after that night in the alley hoping he'd come home and he hadn't. After that she couldn't make herself go inside anymore. It wasn't right, an affront to his memory- to what she'd done, to keep comforting herself with what little he left behind. So she'd avoided it, avoided all of Restfield actually. He wasn't dust though. He wasn't dust and he hadn't sought her out.

She supposed she deserved that. It wasn't until after Dawn was in bed and she'd made sure that Tara was really okay before she left the house and went to his cemetery. To his crypt. She knocked.

It took awhile before he opened the door but she was glad he had because she had already determined that she wouldn't be barging in that night. Not after what she'd done. "Slayer," he greeted noncommittally, face giving nothing away.

"I thought you were dead," it wasn't what she had intended to say and she winced as his face somehow grew even more closed.

"Come to finish the job, then?" he asked, eyes flashing. "Do us a favor and make it quick, eh Slayer?" Even as he said the words he swung the door shut though. Her reaction, to fling out her arm and keep it open, was reflex.

"I thought you were dead and it made me feel," she told him tremulously.

His eyes narrowed. "Wha's that then? Joy?" he snarked.

"Guilt. Sorrow. Rage. Everything. I looked for you but you were gone and you didn't come back here and I thought...I didn't mean it. You've been a better friend to me these last few months than I ever thought possible and I repaid you by-" she cut herself off with a shake of her head as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. "I couldn't find you," she whispered.

Spike squinted at her, tilting his head as he studied her. "Holed up in a shithole to heal for a few days," he finally acknowledged.

"You didn't come find me," she said next, though she knew it wasn't fair.

"Why would I?" he asked incredulously.

Tears spilled over finally as she looked him in the eyes. "Do you still love me?" she asked.

He was quiet for a long moment. "Don't rightly think I could stop if I wanted to," he finally replied.

"I don't deserve it."

"No. Don't 'spect you do," he agreed. "I haven't exactly been deserving of what you've given me either though," he expanded after a heavy pause.

"Like a near death beating?" she asked sardonically.

"Like taking me in after the chip. Like letting me live after I double crossed you with Adam. Like a lot of things, Slayer."

"Are you going to leave?" she asked.

"Thought about it," he said with a sharp nod. "Decided against it."

"Why?" she whispered.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned his back to her, stalking away from the door but leaving it open to her. "Because, you daft bint, I love you. Always been love's bitch, 'aven't I?" he said with a mirthless snort. "I don't leave the ones I love, Slayer. They leave me," he told her, turning towards her again and this time she could see the anger and hurt that consumed him.

"I dunno what I did wrong this time, though. I tried to just…" he trailed off, flinging his arms out as he searched for the words. "Be there for you. To give and not take and do you have any bloody idea how hard that is for a vampire?" he asked rhetorically. "There you were offering me everything that I wanted and yet nothing that I wanted and I was downright noble. What do I get for my efforts? A beating so bloody thorough Angelus would have been proud," he seethed and Buffy flinched back at the comparison.

"You weren't the one who was wrong, Spike. I was. I came back...wrong. Angry and bitter and mean. A bigger bitch than I've ever been before. I beat you because I couldn't beat my friends. There's no excuse for what I did, only apologies. I'm sorry Spike. I'm so, so fucking sorry."

She could tell that she'd startled him. When was the last time she had apologized to him? Had she ever? She pressed on. "I told them, the others, what they did to me. What it felt like to be torn out of Heaven and I-I've tried to be better. I have been better. I thought I was doing it in memory of you but you're still alive- kinda- so maybe now I can just do it for you. For me...for us, if there's even a chance anymore at there ever being an us," she explained desperately.

"Buffy—" he said her name but she could tell he was floundering in the face of her confession so she cut him off.

"Not right away. I know that what I did is too...much. It's too soon. But you were my friend Spike and I was never yours. So...can you let me try to be your friend?" she asked, eyes pleading as she gazed up at him.

"Sure, pet. We can try that," he acceded with something akin to awe burning in his gaze. She nodded and shot him a shaky smile.

"I should get home, make sure Tara is okay...do you want to meet me at the Bronze tomorrow for a drink?"

"I'll be there," he accepted with a nod and she shot him one last smile as she made her way back out into the night, feeling lighter than she had since before she'd died.

~BTVS~

Things settled after that. Buffy became softer, more open to accepting happiness when it presented itself to her. Things between her friends had changed irrevocably but they found a new common ground. One that included Spike and if they didn't like it, she made it very clear that they could leave. Dawn was thrilled.

She worked to be a good friend to Spike and he resumed being the steadying force he'd been before his near death. They drank beers, played pool and occasionally danced it up at the Bronze. When Riley came back to town with his new wife in tow she felt the lingering sting of betrayal but no jealousy. Not like what she saw in his eyes when he took in the easy familiarity that she now shared with Spike. That she'd never truly shared with Riley.

It was months later, after they'd taken care of the nerd trio, that she finally couldn't take it anymore. Willow had started to go down a dangerous path and as a result she and Tara had gone to England to work with a coven to help the redhead learn control and consequences. Dawn was staying the weekend with a friend and Buffy was bleeding all over the kitchen floor.

Spike was bent down over her as he gently, but firmly, bandaged up her injured thigh. "What was that?" she asked as he muttered something.

"Nothing," he said with a shake of his head.

"Liar," she replied lightly.

He rolled his eyes. "Jus' always comes back to blood, doesn' it?" he murmured as he finished taping the gauze up.

She tilted her head in confusion before shrugging. "Well I suppose you would think so, vampire" she agreed.

He chuckled and leaned away from her about to rise to his full height but he only got half way up before she grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. "You remember that poem?" she whispered against his lips as his wide cerulean eyes burned into hers. "The one you shouted at me angrily after I kissed you that last time?"

She had a feeling if it had been possible for him to blush then he would have. He cleared his throat instead. "'Wild nights- Wild nights'," he whispered back.

"That's the one," she agreed, tone full of promise, before pressing her lips fully against his. He groaned and opened his mouth to her when she asked for entrance. He melted against her and this time she could feel his lack of resistance. Could feel his complete surrender to her.

They had healed each other over the course of their friendship, their courtship. He scooped her up, careful not to hit her injured leg as he stood and began to move out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs. He never once broke their kiss, not until he set her gently onto her bed. He stood back from her, watching her hungrily.

"Tell me to stop now, Slayer, or forever hold your peace," he demanded.

She smirked and responded by unbuttoning her shirt and sliding it off. A low growl emitted from him and she laughed as he eagerly fell upon her, devouring her.

It was worth it, the waiting and the building of the foundation of friendship that would give them each the first healthy relationship either had ever known. Passion crested over them but it never waned. Whether they were fighting or fucking, fuming or laughing there was no one who could say that they didn't love each other, that they didn't burn with devotion for one another.