Sophie had scoured her skin, but she didn't feel clean. All her wounds had healed, leaving only pink traces on her skin. Penn was dead. She had felt the rain of his dust against her, but there was no relief in it. His ashes weren't on her skin, but his sins were under it. She pulled her denim clad knees up and rested her chin on them, staring out the window into the dregs of the night. Memories and guilt plaguing her, she sighed.

Buffy and Spike were tucked away for the night, seeing to their wounds and other needs. She hoped the twins were rejoicing in their freedom. All her humans were tucked away safely, but she couldn't sleep.

She had a room of her own, but this was where she came to find peace.

Sophie looked around the library. Even in the darkness, it was comforting. The scent of his tea, Darjeeling this evening, lingered. The books were scattered in an a odd array across the table. He would know where every one was, have a reason for it's placement, and complain bitterly if anyone disturbed them. She smiled as she considered stacking them neatly, just to watch his eyes light with irritation. There was so much life in him.

The temperature of the room changed, warming. She sensed him, his human heart beating so loudly in the silent room. He probably wanted her to recount the battle for posterity. She turned and looked at him. Leaning against the door jamb in his sweater and jeans, he seemed more predator than prey.

"Are you all right?" His voice was warm like the whisky he favored. She looked into his green eyes and knew lying was pointless.

"No." She shifted and gazed out the window again. "I killed the creature that turned me, but I can't escape what I am. Can't take back what I have done so easily."

"What have you done?" He didn't sound accusatory, merely curious.

"I've become a damned thing."

"Did you make others?"

"No, I killed, but I never turned anyone. This isn't an existence I would wish on any being." Her vehemence seemed out of place in the quiet room.

She felt him move closer, his body heat beckoning to her. She hugged her legs more tightly to her body. She closed her eyes and wished she could be the woman she had been.

"I was a good woman. I worked in an orphanage. I was just the by blow a wealthy lord and his whore, but he provided me with an education and a comfortable life. I was happy enough. Penn took me to imitate Angelus. Drusilla was to be a nun. My life was dedicated to good works. He thought he could mold me into something. He wanted to drive his own little slave mad. I don't think he ever forgave me for not becoming a raving Bedlamite." She shrugged and watched as he took a few steps closer.

"Why are you suffering like this? Spike seems to deal with his changes quite easily." Giles cocked his head and examined her. She bit her lip to keep from yelling at him. It wouldn't do any good. She was a subject of study to him, not a woman, just another strange monster in his world.

"He has Buffy. She's become his center, and he was always adept at moving forward. He changed with the times, learned new skills, enjoyed new experiences. When we were in Paris, he would go to see all the artists and enjoy the dance halls, but he didn't feed there." She shrugged. "Most vampires don't adjust to the changing world, and they don't enjoy it. They stay mired in the past."

"Are you mired in the past?" He leaned against the wall, his glasses reflecting the light from the street.

"No, I just wish my past had been mine to control. I would have liked to have a husband and children, just a normal, quiet life, picnics in the park, church on Sunday. I miss the sun, the heat of it on my skin. I was never one for a parasol. My mother had her perfect, creamy skin. She loathed my habits. She wanted me to follow in her footsteps, but I couldn't. Of course, if I had done, I might have at least had a child to love." She scooted over on the window seat to lean against the wall, widening the space between them. She felt the cushion shift as he settled next to her.

"You aren't alone anymore, Sophie." His warm hand played through her hair. "Buffy and Spike consider you family. The others have accepted you. Even Xander and Cordelia are warming up to you."

"It isn't the same." She watched him take off his glasses. He set them on the bookshelf nearest to him, and fastened his gaze on her. "I adore my new existence, but I will never be human again."

"No, humanity is not an option, but what you are is remarkable. Your heart beats." He reached out and pulled one of her hands free and cradled it in his own larger one.

"Occasionally," she said softly as the organ in question began to function again. He was so bloody perfect. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the floor. In her regular human life, she never would have met him. She wouldn't have been a consideration for a man like him, not with her parentage.

It was odd to have finally found a man that made her dream of something more all these years after she lost the ability to attain it. She turned her head and studied his handsome features. His dark green eyes were fixed on her, but he didn't see her, not in any real way. He saw a chance to save his slayer from his idiotic employers. She sighed, and enjoyed the warmth of his hand on hers. Her time in this world had always been about crumbs. She knew how to be happy with them.