What had he done? What the hell had come over him? He ran until he could run no more, until his breath came in ragged gasps and his heart felt like it would explode in his chest.

Never! He had sworn that he would never do anything like that to her—or anyone—ever again. Dropping to his knees, he threw up, his stomach churning painfully and his limbs trembling as tears of shame and disgust ran unheeded down his face.

Shaking and trembling, he climbed to his feet and made his way slowly home; loving, trusting green eyes swimming with tears haunted his every step.

~*~

He didn’t see her for over a week, and he didn’t know whether to be pleased or saddened by that. He wanted to talk to her, to try to apologise Try to explain. But how do you explain something like that—something you can’t even explain to yourself? He was disgusted in himself.

In sleep images of their final nights, before that fatal day in the Hellmouth, came to him. Images of gentle sweet loving, of tender caresses. Other dreams came too, visions of the slayer broken by grief, of holding and comforting her… whispering of forever. When he woke in the mornings his guilt and shame burned ever brighter.

He didn’t understand what had come over him, why he had been so angry at her. Why he’d been so hostile to her ever since she showed up here. Okay, so he didn’t love her, it had all been a lie…but not her lie! She didn’t do this to him, so why was he so mad at her? He thought about this; about his incredibly hostile reaction to her every time he saw her. Just because he didn’t love her was no reason for such total hostility towards her—no grounds for the completely unreasonable anger he felt every time she came anywhere near him.

Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark, if only he could work out what it was, and why. He was already pretty damn sure he knew who was responsible!

~*~

He felt her presence before he saw her, once again she was hovering in a darkened doorway waiting for him. Why? How could she want to be anywhere near him? Sighing deeply, he moved purposefully toward her.

“Buffy.” His voice was quiet, he caught her eye for a second and then looked away.

“Spike?” Buffy’s head tilted sideways as she looked at the vampire. He was different tonight, the anger that had burned so brightly in him was gone. She stepped hesitantly toward him, reaching a hand up to his face. As she gently touched his cheek her breath caught… Spike! …. her mind was reeling, he wasn’t yelling or backing away... she was touching him, and it felt wonderful!

After a second he gently removed her hand. “Buffy, don’t love.” His voice was gentle, but determined. “I... we need to talk. Preferably in private, if you could trust me enough so come up to my flat, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, Spike. I’d trust you with my life!” She fought the moisture that tried to gather in her eyes, just as she fought the urge to confess to him again how much she loved him. She didn’t want the walls that were beginning to crumble to come flying back up, so she clamped down hard on the words that sought to come tumbling out.

At her words of trust, Spike flinched inwardly. How could she trust him like that after what he’d done to her? Desperate to lift the dark cloud that threatened to settle over him, he smirked at the slayer. “I think you know the way, pet.”

Buffy had the grace to blush at his reference to her stalking, and turned with him towards his home.

~*~

Spike’s flat was spacious. The entrance led directly into the lounge room featuring a comfortable black leather three-piece lounge suite comprising of two single seaters and a three seater couch. The decor was completed by a polished solid timber coffee table, a beautiful 6ft mahogany bookcase over half filled with books, and a plasma screen television hung directly on the wall. A large, curved window looked out onto a generous balcony. The cream carpet and walls complemented the furniture beautifully.

Buffy took a seat in one of the armchairs, while Spike sat on the coffee table facing her. Now that she was here, he had no idea how or where to begin. How do you apologise to someone for something like that? His eyes fixated on a spot on the carpet, an ash smudge probably, he really had to take more care when smoking in the flat. Time seemed to drag by before he looked up, still trying to come up with the right words to say. His eyes caught hers and he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat.

“Buffy, I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am for what I did to you.”

“What you did to me? Spike, you didn’t do anything to me.”

“How can you say that! I...”

“Spike, you didn’t do anything that I didn’t let you do. I didn’t try to stop you. I didn’t ask you to stop. If I had, I’m pretty sure you would have! I didn’t expect you to be so rough, or so angry with me, but I didn’t want you to stop.” The tears that had been threatening gathered once more, one escaping to roll slowly down her cheek.

“Buffy…” He got up and started pacing, he never had been able to stay still when something got him worked up, whether he was upset or angry, pacing was the only safe way to burn off the energy building inside him. “I was angry, Buffy. I was furious. And that’s the bloody problem. I don’t know why I was so bloody angry at you! I think it’s got somethin’ to do with the Powers That bloody well Be.”

“What? Why…..?”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I don’t know, love.”

~*~

He’d told her everything, all about coming back to Wolfram and Hart, about working alongside Angel and Co, the final battle in the alley, that soddin’ room with the narcissistic voice. All of it. All except the part about his change of diet, him havin’ a heartbeat and bein’ able to go out in the sun… he wasn’t quite ready to share that yet.

“Anyway, like I said, they told me that lovin’ you was somethin they did to me—made me love you so’s I’d go all white hat. Pissed me right off, that did. ‘s not right to mess with people’s feelings like that. You love someone, it should at least be your own feelin’s not somethin’ manufactured! Thing is, ‘s not you I should be pissed at—an’ I have been. Which is strange, cause I can’t think why I would blame you. So that’s why I think it has somethin’ to do with the Powers That Be. What I can’t figure, is what they’ve done to me an’ why.” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “I’m not bloody crazy, love, something is wrong here. I know it!”

“I never thought you were crazy, Spike. I agree something is going on, because I know it’s a lie! What they have told you is a lie, Spike. I know you loved me. I felt it. I could see it in your eyes… it was real! And they told you it wasn't. And obviously they’re doing something to make you go all damage bound at the sight of me. I have no idea why, but I believe you’re right. I also believe that we can figure it out. We've proven over and over that there's nothing you and I can’t do…together! ” Buffy looked at him, her green eyes glowing with love.

She was going over, in her mind, the details of what he had told her, while at the same time taking in the view of a once-again-pacing Spike. She’d missed just being able to watch him, the way he moved, like a panther, predatory and dangerous. He was so unbelievably gorgeous.

Something he’d said suddenly set off alarms. “Oh my God! The dreams!” She practically launched herself out of her chair. “Spike, you came back, what… out of the amulet, you said?” At Spike’s nod she continued. “And just appeared in Angel’s office eight months ago?” Again he nodded. “Ok, I think maybe you should sit down and listen carefully. I’m not sure if there is a connection, but well, let’s just say I stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago!”

Spike sat down again, giving Buffy his full attention. What next? Could things possibly get any more complicated and bizarre? He thought about his life, about Buffy’s life and all the things they had both seen and done; hell yeah, course they could!

Buffy looked Spike in the eye. Oh, God, she had missed those eyes! ‘Okay, Buffy’, she chided herself, ‘so not the time. Concentrate!’

“Right, well after you… died, I just didn’t want… Oh this is so hard, Spike, I haven’t told anyone about this!” Taking a deep breath she tried to calm herself.

“It’s okay, pet, just take your time,” his voice gently soothed as he reached out and subconsciously stroked the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Okay… I didn’t really want to go on, you know. Not without you. I was so lost, felt so empty. I missed you so much. And it hurt, it hurt more than I knew anything could hurt. I guess I kinda went into a trance thingy, you know like Willow said I did when Dawn was taken. Anyway, you came to me. You held me and you talked to me, you told me you loved me, and that you would love me forever. You said that you’d never leave me. And then you made me wake up and eat and get some proper sleep. After that you came to me every time I fell asleep... and it felt so real. I could feel you holding me, I could taste your kisses and… And it was the only time I was happy. All I wanted was to be asleep so I could be with you. Then eight months ago you came to me for the last time and told me you had to go away for a while, but it would be alright because it wasn’t going to be for long.” The tears were streaming down her face and without thought Spike gathered her into his arms, stroking and soothing her as his mind tried to digest the incredible story she’d just told him.

He thought of the dreams he’d been having lately—holding a grief-stricken slayer in his arms. Sharing gentle kisses and whispers of forever. Eight months ago, she said. He had stopped coming to her at the same time that he’d appeared at Wolfram and Hart. Like Buffy, he wasn’t a great believer in coincidences.

Eventually he felt her shuddering lessen as he rocked and soothed her. Breathing deeply, he took in the scent of her hair, like sunlight and fresh spring breezes. He had always loved her hair.

Suddenly the weeping slayer in his arms jumped back, pulling away from him as if he’d burnt her. Her eyes wide as she stared at him.

“Buffy, what’s wrong, love?”

“I heard… you have… Spike, your heart is beating!”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I kinda overlooked that part of the story di’n’t I?” He looked at her sheepishly.

“What!” Now there was that slayer glare that he knew so well. “You have a heartbeat and you ‘overlooked’ it?” she demanded incredulously.

“Look, Slayer, I …it’s difficult to understand...”

“You’re suddenly human and that is difficult to understand? Well, yeah, I guess I can see that it could be. But…”

“No, that’s the thing, pet, I’m not human—not quite. And not quite a vampire, either. Some cock an’ bull ‘bout it bein’ my reward. I don’t need blood anymore, I have a heartbeat an’ I can go out in the sunlight.” He heard Buffy’s involuntary gasp at that final revelation. “I still have vamp hearing, sight and smell, in fact, if anything my senses are stronger than ever. I still have vampire strength and speed—again I think a little more so than before. Oh, an’ they said I will age, but slower than humans So like I said, not human. Don’t rightly know what I am!”

Standing up, he moved to pace again, only to be brought up short. “Spike, please, can we talk?”

“Thought that was what we’ve been doin’, love.” Spike looked at her, his head tilted slightly, scarred eyebrow raised in query.

“No, I meant... I meant about us, can we talk about us, Spike? I still love you, baby, I always will!” Her voice was quiet and hesitant, she did not want to lose the easy camaraderie that was building back up between them, but she was desperate to know where they stood. If any of what they’d discussed made any difference to his feelings. When he’d held her, comforted her gently, it had felt wonderful. To be back in Spike’s arms was like heaven, no... it was better than heaven. She was sure that she’d felt something familiar—felt her Spike as he mumbled soft, soothing words, stroking her hair and her back as he rocked her gently in his strong, safe arms.

Spike’s face clouded as he sat in front of her again. Taking her hands gently in his, he looked into her hopeful face—her eyes were bright with unshed tears, a small uncertain smile graced her face. He sighed deeply, he’d hurt her a lot over the last month or two, and he didn’t want to have to do so again, but he couldn’t lie to her. Releasing her hands he spoke quietly.

“Buffy, love, there is no ‘us’, pet. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s happenin’ here, but I do know that at this moment, I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry, Slayer. I wish I could make everythin’ right for you, but I just don’t love you, an’ I’m not gonna pretend I do. But I do want us to be friends again. The way I’ve been since you found me, the anger… I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He watched as her smile faded, she was being so brave; she’d always been so brave, his slayer. She was fighting with everything she had not to cry again. He knew not to touch her, despite every instinct that was screaming at him to hold her and take her pain away, knew that if he did, she would lose the battle she was currently waging.

Eventually she nodded, drawing a ragged breath, she rose. “I should get home. I’ll come by tomorrow? Maybe we can patrol, or try to work out what the Powers are doing to us and why.” She couldn’t get out of there quick enough, she’d already broken down completely in front of him once tonight and didn’t want to do so again, but she could feel the tears threatening, feel her control slipping.

“Right, pet, whatever you want. Why don’t you come by mid mornin’ if you’re not busy? We can go for a walk and talk some more—maybe go have lunch or somethin’.” He felt so bad for hurting her, but what could he do? He wasn’t gonna tell the girl he loved her when he didn’t. He could, however, make up for the way he’d treated her this last couple of months—and in all honesty, he’d enjoyed her company tonight. They had always been good at the friendship part, even when they didn’t care to admit it.