Chapter Eight



A/N: I apologise profusely for the delay. Hope this chapter makes up for it :-)
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They walked along in silence for some time before Spike finally spoke up from beside her.

“Where we going then? For this little conflab of ours.”

“I thought we could go to yours,” she replied without looking at him.

“That such a good idea?”

She turned to face him and couldn’t help smiling when she caught sight of his smirk. She slapped him lightly on the arm and continued on her way.

“Better than staying there, right?”

“S’pose so.”

They fell silent and she let herself enjoy the comfort of his presence, the strange calm that settled over them both. It wasn’t often that they were so quiet, so relaxed together – and that was probably her fault too. She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, looking up ahead at the moonlit sky as they walked along through an eerily silent Sunnydale.



Before too long, they had reached Restfield cemetery and when she saw Spike’s crypt come into view, her heart lurched as the reality sank in. She had promised him a talk, a chance to sort out what had gone so horribly wrong between them – but she had no idea what she was going to say.

He went ahead and opened the door, holding it open and beckoning her inside. With a shy glance, she slipped past him and into the main room, twisting her hands together nervously as she listened to him shut the door behind them. A thick silence passed over them again and she took a few long breaths to calm herself. Spike said nothing, waiting for her to speak – and succeeding only in making her more nervous.

“Say something,” she pleaded finally.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with laughter.

“Anything.”

She felt him move and then he was standing in front of her, looking down at her with dark eyes.

“I love you.”

“That’s not helping,” she whispered after a pause, smiling softly, “You’re just making me more nervous.”

“You nervous around me, Slayer?” he murmured incredulously, “Never thought I’d see the day.”

He traced his thumb over her cheek and she leaned into the caress instinctively, her body unknowingly giving away more than her words.



Finally, she forced herself away and took several long strides away from him, turning to face him from the other side of the room. He smirked and raised an eyebrow and she smiled shyly.

“I can’t think properly when you’re touching me.”

His smirk grew even wider and she rolled her eyes, letting him enjoy the moment.

“Are you done?” she asked after a while and he smiled softly, slipping out of his jacket and moving to slump in his chair, eyes fixed on her unnervingly.

“M’ready for my lecture,” he announced with a smile.

“It’s not a lecture,” she replied, leaning against the sarcophagus, “I just… I guess we need to talk about stuff.”

“Might be good. You’ve got an old vampire all hot and bothered and confused.”

She smiled apologetically and paused again, trying to order her thoughts.

“So, erm, where were we?” she asked, “Before we were interrupted.”

“We were talking about crumbs,” he replied with a smile.

“Crumbs. Right. Yeah.”

She said nothing again for a long pause and when she looked up from the floor, she jumped a little when she found Spike only a few inches away.

“We never were the talking kind,” he murmured and before she could reply, he dipped his head and kissed her.



He was right, as usual: she couldn’t express with words what she felt, how she relied on him, needed him, wanted him. So she tried to pour it all into her kiss, winding her hand behind his neck and holding him close as she kissed him back, her heart pounding with the feel of him. She jerked back suddenly, her breath coming heavily.

“Wait.”

He smiled ever so slightly and pulled back a tiny bit to look at her, blue eyes studying her intently.

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Why not?” he whispered, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to her temple that made her eyelids flutter.

“Wait,” she repeated, hands moving to his chest and holding him away, “I need to tell you… you need to know…”

“Maybe I already do.”

He caught her mouth with his once more and she let out a throaty moan. It had been too long.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and in seconds, she was off the floor, her legs wrapping around him as he stumbled into the sarcophagus. Her hands ran over him desperately, tugging at hair and clothes, needing more contact – even as a little voice in her head kept telling her ‘not yet’. When his mouth dropped to her neck, she somehow got the willpower to pull away, her hands on his shoulders to hold him at a distance.

“Wait,” she got out breathlessly, “I… I don’t want to do this.”



Her words galvanised him into motion and he jerked away from her, his eyes turning bright with rejection and then quickly cold as he hid from her. She moved forward quickly and stopped him though.

“Spike, no. I… I didn’t mean… I do want you.”

“You sure about that?” he asked, hope warring with anger in his eyes.

“Yes. I just… not like this. Not here.”

“Not here?”

“I want… I want to be with you in a bed.”

“Sorry, love, mine’s out of action,” he got out bitterly.

“My bed,” she added and he went still, eyes flying to hers, searching them for signs of a lie.

“Your bed?” he repeated in wonder.

“Yes. But not now… now we need to talk.”

“You sure?” he asked disbelievingly, giving her a come hither look that almost broke through her self-control.

“Yes?” she whispered with a smile, shoving him gently away.

She turned her back on him and took a few steps away, gathering her thoughts.



“I’m sorry,” she blurted out after a while.

“What about?” he asked.

“Everything. All the things I did to you.”

“Wasn’t complaining.”

“You should have,” she remarked, turning to face him again, “You really should have.”

She paused for a moment, lost in painful memories, before she continued.

“I mean, God! What’s wrong with us, Spike? That we fight and we fight and we hurt each other so much.”

“But we don’t, do we, love?” he said, drawing her eyes to his, “Because we can take it. We’re strong.”

“But we shouldn’t… we shouldn’t want to hurt each other. It’s not normal.”

He raised an eyebrow in answer and she sighed, turning away from him again.

“I know, I know. We’re not normal. But I…”

She sighed and her gaze fell to the floor.

“I’m worried about the sort of person I’m becoming,” she whispered, “Someone who thrives on that… that darkness.”

There was silence for several long minutes, until she sensed Spike’s movement and his hand came to rest on her arm. She turned towards him slowly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, desperate for an answer.

“You’re a Slayer,” he whispered, “You thrive on the darkness because it’s inside you… it’s in your blood. Just like it’s in mine.”

“But I’m afraid,” she murmured, “I’m afraid that I’m becoming something… something less than human.”

“Like me, you mean,” he remarked, eyes turning cold for the shortest of seconds.

“No… I don’t know,” she sighed, “I just… I don’t feel human anymore, Spike.”

She sighed and then gave a twisted smile.

“And maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe it’s time I recognised that.”

She raised her eyes to his and smiled softly.

“You know, the kissing was much easier than this talking thing.”