"Spike?" Buffy started softly after he'd just closed the hotel door behind them.

"Yeah, luv?" The response was weary but softened with care.

"I think I know what happened. It's been coming back to me."

"Yeah?"

"But first I think I need to clean up and get out of..." she gestured with some measure of distaste to her torn casino dress, "this..."

"Right," Spike answered quickly, preparing to be shut out. Perhaps there was an hour or two left to prowl alone till dawn.

"I think I'm gonna draw a bath."

"Can't blame you. I'll probably do the same once the sun comes up," he replied in his best tough-guy imitation.

"You going out, then?"

"Probably, especially if I can't find any good soap operas on the telly."

"Spike?"

"Uhuh."

"I don't really want to be alone right now."

"Oh." Spike didn't really know what this meant.

"Just, maybe, could you stay?" Buffy took his hand. He marveled at the softness of her skin.

"Okay, as the lady wishes. I'll...um...just raid the minibar and veg a bit while you have your bath and whatnot..." He kept up with the tough guy act.

Buffy scrunched her face a bit before reaching for the zipper dangling at the bottom of his jacket.

"What?" Spike asked, softening a little.

"Spike...William..." she looked him deep in the eyes, "Thank you for saving me tonight."

He reached instinctively to cup her face and draw it up to his, but stopped himself mid-gesture.

"Last time you called me that..."

"I know, but...it's not that..." she nodded and clasped his cupped hand.

"What is it then, luv?" Spike braced himself for anything.

"Just, stay close to me tonight." She whispered as she let her fingers slide underneath his jacket. He closed his eyes as he felt her hand reach around his waste and her soft core press gently into him.

"What? No lectures for leading you into dark unknown passages?" Spike purred without being able to stop himself. Her touch had lit another part of his brain. He fingered a lock of her hair idly. Looking into her eyes, his grin turned into a look of concern.

"Are you all right?" He ventured.

"Yeah. I'm just...gonna go turn on the water. I'll be right back."

Spike sighed and posited himself with a thud onto the couch. Fishing for the remote with little real desire to watch television, he listened as the water started running in the bathroom.

Flipping through channel after channel he finally gave up, turned off the device and slumped back into the stiff hotel pillows, letting his arms flay artlessly at his sides.

Laying inert, his mind wandered through the last twelve or so hours, but quickly drifted into memories of the distant past. Ensconced in moments long buried in his psyche, he was roused only after several small noises finally brought him back to his surroundings.

"Hey...you plan to just fall asleep in your jacket and your boots?"

"Uh, yeah, caught me there."

"I guess the sand thing doesn't bother you."

"I've had worse..." He finally turned his head to the door of the bathroom and held his breath a pinch at the sight of her clad only in a cotton robe.

If Spike had just walked into a low lit room with slinky jazz music, the mood wouldn't have been more compelling than the sight of Buffy, his Buffy, smiling, leaning with a half fastened robe against the door frame.

"You comfortable there?" Buffy teased.

"Oh well, actually, now that you mention it..." Spike pretended to lounge and make himself at ease.

Buffy pouted her lips slightly, making Spike's lips spread into a grin.

"C'mon, Will." She raised an eyebrow and beckoned him towards the now steamy bath.

"Sorry, I don't have a good record with ladies and bathroom ceramics..." Spike sulked, the memory of the time he nearly forced Buffy floating back into his conscience. He rolled over so he didn't have to look at her, and blindly reached for the remote.

"Spike! Will..." Buffy chided, "It's different now. You know that. I want it to be different."

"How..." he muttered, back still toward the bathroom door.

"You know I'm not good at this, Will."

"Oh, but you're sure good at looking nice and playing sexy..."

"Don't..." she interrupted. "That was before. Everything was before."

"Before what?"

"I'm not sure..." he could hear her voice meander, searching for its own truth, "But it started when we started talking, I mean really talking, being close..."

"Just come out when you're done." Spike kicked himself for so bluntly turning down her invitation.

"Will, look at me."

He reluctantly shifted his weight so he could meet her gaze again.

"No, you look at me, Slayer. What do you see?" He growled with a challenge.

"I see a man, with a soul, a heart, a conscience."

"You don't see a pathetic loser, eternally damned, with the added skill of being able to make your life a living hell?"

"If you mean what happened tonight, trust me, I don't need you to find that sort of stuff. It finds me. And I'd rather have you with me when it does. I trust you more than anyone, I think."

"Well that's rich. I mean, I'd love to believe you, but then maybe I'm just too old fashioned. Maybe when I think of love I still think forever and all that bloody rubbish. You know, kids in the cradle and Nanna the little nursery puppy. And well, I'm a vampire. And vampire's don't get fluffy cuddly forevers."

"Is that what this is about?" Her robe opened slightly as she put her hands squarely on her hips.

"Since the first moment I started dreaming of you, I wanted you to want all of me. Forever, like the naïve little sot I am. But you're, you're a slayer, and I'm dust. I've had my time, and trust me I was just as naïve and sappy then as I am now, if not worse."

"Ok."

"Okay?" He stood up and began to pace.

"Okay, Will, maybe I do want you." She shot coolly across the room.

He walked up to her gruffly, looking her intensely in the eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure. Have your fun." he threw his hands in a gesture of defeat, "You don't know me. What I was. And even if you did, I'm a vampire, I can't give you forever, or even one human lifetime."

"Will, you got your soul back for me. You died fighting by my side. Maybe that counts for something."

"Maybe, but maybe I can't bear to wait around and find out. Maybe my heart's not up to it."

Buffy's eyes shimmered with a hint of moisture.

"I want you to need and crave me, like I need and crave you," Spike went on, letting his hand slip under her robe.

Her lips parted slightly at his touch, and they locked eyes.

"Maybe I do," her doe eyes bore into him.

He let his hands wonder a moment, making them both tingle with sweet apprehension, before pulling away.

"A lot of maybe's, Slayer."

"You've changed."

"Yeah well, I got a soul and I died."

"I died too."

Spike tensed his jaw and did his best not to turn away.

"I almost lost my soul tonight," Buffy shifted the direction of the conversation.

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad you didn't." Spike's eyes softened and he fiddled with the belt of her robe, letting the soft cotton dance between his fingers.

"It wasn't your fault, if anything, it was partly mine."

"No, Buff, he, I mean that guy, bird-brain, put a spell on you..."

"But the spell, it talked to me. It asked me what I wanted..."

"Oh right so it said, hey wanna be possessed by a crazy bitch Goddess from the Egyptian underworld and run around torching people? Buffy, don't make excuses for me. That's the last thing I need." He eyed her curiously, afraid to ask what it was she had wanted.

"I mean, I was under a spell and everything..." she lowered her eyes, "but it told me I could live forever with you. Crazy thought, huh?" She laughed and then her eyes grew big, "Oh the water, forgot!"

Before Spike could digest her words, she had spun around and disappeared into the foggy bathroom.

"But you're better than that Buffy. You know better. You'd never agree to eternity without a soul!" Spike called after her, concerned etched in his features, but a curious glimmer of gratification in his gut. On an impulse, he followed Buffy into the bathroom, and edged in behind her as she fiddled with the faucet, sliding his hand over her shoulder.

"I know," Buffy said simply.