“This is serious,” Faith said, pacing back and forth through the Magic Box, a stake clenched in her hand. “We’re going to take care of it. I have to.”

Xander stood up, frowning. “Look, I’m the first guy to say that vampires can’t be trusted, but this is Spike. And I don’t think he’d hurt any of us, chip or not.”

It was the next day, and Faith had called everyone to the Magic Box to talk about the new threat. It figured, Buffy thought wryly. She’d finally been considered part of the group, just in time to kill the one Scooby she liked best. Spike would be so happy for her, if he weren’t about to turn to dust.

“He attacked me last night,” Faith retorted.

“You hit him first!” Buffy objected. “It was a reflex.”

“Shut up, B.” Faith turned back to Xander. “And no, I don’t think he’d hurt any of us. But what’s to stop him from feeding on the rest of the town?”

“Remember how he was when he first came to Sunnydale?” Willow agreed. Until then, she’d seemed more absorbed in wrapping her arms around Tara’s waist than the conversation, and Buffy choked back the revulsion that welled up at the sight. Now wasn’t the time for it. “He’s a threat. We have to get rid of him.”

Xander looked troubled. “What if we could get him a new chip? Or a soul?”

“Because that worked so well last time,” Willow said sarcastically. “Come on, Xander. Scoobies stop being Scoobies when they start killing people.”

For an instant, Buffy thought she saw Faith and Willow exchange a furtive glance. Then it was gone and she was nearly sure that she’d imagined it.

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet!” Xander objected.

“Not that we know of,” Anya added. She shrugged at Xander’s betrayed look. “Well, it’s true. But we’re not killing Spike. Not so close to the wedding.”

Faith threw up her hands. “Of course. The wedding. Because that’s so much more important than the vampire killing people!”

“H-He m-might not even b-b-be in town anymore,” Tara said quietly.

Willow perked up. “Yeah, Faith. Why didn’t you go after him last night?”

Faith looked away, and Buffy suddenly recognized the other Slayer as herself, years before, letting Angelus go when she’d had him cornered because she just couldn’t kill him yet. “I gave him a chance to leave. If he hasn’t left, then I’ll kill him.” She turned to Buffy suddenly, her eyes challenging. “What do you think, B? Do we kill our friend the vampire? I know you have experience with these things.”

Buffy recoiled at both the hostility and the words. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I’ll come with you.”

“I didn’t invite you along,” Faith grumbled, heading for the door. “And I don’t need someone protecting Spike when I’m trying to kill him.”

“I can do what needs to be done,” Buffy said coldly. Faith knew how her last encounter with a rogue vampire had gone. Was it so hard to lay off the baiting her, just this once? “You’re his girlfriend, remember? You’re the one with the conflict of interest.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him.” Faith was glaring at her again.

Buffy frowned at the words. “Neither am I.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Faith muttered.

~

Restfield was empty during the day, usually. Many vampires had the nasty habit of rising and then killing their friends and family, so few mourners actually remained for the deceased in Sunnydale. Today, it was cold and overcast and silent, the tension between the two girls as palpable as the damp, thick air as they trudged reluctantly toward Spike’s crypt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Buffy asked finally, tossing a sidelong glance at Faith. She’d taken her time getting weapons ready, walked to Restfield rather than accepting a ride, even stopped off at Sunnydale High to check on Dawn on the way. She’d done everything but actually go to the crypt and do what had to be done.

Faith turned to the other Slayer, a caustic remark on the tip of her tongue, but bit it back at the genuine concern on Buffy’s face. “I’m the Slayer,” she said simply, pushing open the door to Spike’s home.

Buffy understood.

Spike was seated on his armchair, nursing a glass of blood as he stared blankly at the static on his television. “H’lo, ladies,” he said dully, not turning to face them.

Faith tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to stand up. Beside her, Buffy leaned against the stone wall. This was Faith’s battle, not hers, and she was just there as backup. How ironic. The first inter-Scooby battle and I’m on the wrong side.

Spike didn’t move.

Frustrated, Faith grabbed the armchair with Slayer strength, spinning it around to force Spike to face her. She climbed onto Spike’s lap, touching the stake to his chest. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded.

Effortlessly, he stood up, knocking Faith to the ground, walked to Buffy, and pinched her on the arm before she could react. “Ow!” Buffy slapped him away as he flinched back with obvious pain. She frowned, staring at him in confusion. “Wait. Why are you hurting?”

But he’d already turned back to Faith. “It’s just you, Slayer,” he said quietly. “Something happened…you’re not quite human anymore.”

Faith picked herself up, staring wide-eyed at Spike. “No. What do you mean? I can’t-“ She held out her arm for him. “Hurt me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, pinching her, same as Buffy. There was no recoil.

“Again!” she demanded, her eyes darkening with something close to wild terror. He slapped her lightly. Nothing. “Again!”

“Faith, it’s not going to change,” Buffy tried to reason with the slowly panicking girl, reaching out to push her hand down.

Faith shoved her away, and pressed the stake against Spike’s chest again in a threat. “Bite me,” she commanded, shaking.

Spike stared. “I don’t think-“

“Do it!” she ordered, pushing the stake inward.

Buffy grabbed it from Faith, pushing her away from Spike and stumbling against him. He caught her easily. “It might be nothing,” Buffy argued. “Just some side effect of reanimating a corpse or something. I doubt that…”

But Faith didn’t hear anything that Buffy was saying. She threw open the door to the crypt, unthinkingly letting light pour in, and raced out of the cemetery.

With a sudden curse, Spike dove under the armchair until Buffy finally shut the stone door securely again. “Thanks, pet,” he said, moving to sit down again.

“Well, I couldn’t save you from a staking and then let you burn to dust, now, could I?” she said gamely, taking a seat on top of the low television.

He regarded her with serious eyes. “Is that why you came here? To save me?”

She sighed. “No, I guess not. I don’t know. You might have been killing people.”

“I wouldn’t, you know,” Spike said suddenly. “Kill people. Not if it meant losing everyone.”

“That’s not a reason not to kill,” Buffy told him, sighing. “If you had a soul, you’d get it.”

“Right.” Spike was unconvinced. “Because you humans don’t kill because of your souls. Not because of your police, or the recriminations, or-“

Buffy shook her head. “It’s because the guilt would eat us alive,” she explained. “If I’d hurt someone like that…”

Spike snorted. “And you think that vampires don’t feel guilt?” he asked sardonically. “You think if I let the Little Bit get hurt, or Harris or the White Witch, I wouldn’t eat myself up inside with guilt?”

“You feel guilt about the people you care about,” Buffy conceded. “But what about a total stranger? That wouldn’t make a difference to you.”

Spike frowned. “So you’re saying that criminals aren’t human, if they hurt people and don’t feel guilt? How about people in law enforcement, or mobsters, or people who act in self defense?“

Buffy shook her head. “It’s different,” she said helplessly. “You don’t know what’s going on in their heads, if they’re sorry-“

Spike stood up, moving to stand in front of her. “How about this?” he said softly. “I don’t need a soul, because there are people out there who can teach me what’s wrong without some thing in my head telling me what’s what. Why does it have to make a difference?”

“It does,” she said desperately. “It has to.” Because if vampires can be good, I’m a murderer. Because why couldn’t my last lover just be good like Spike?

His eyes softened as the understanding came. “I’m not a normal vampire, Buffy,” he said gently. “I’ve always known that. I was turned by a madwoman, and I think it had an effect on my loss of humanity.”

“So what, you’re special?” Buffy said skeptically. “Now you’re a whole new species, with the best of human and demon all mixed up in-“

“Slayer.” He put a quelling hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know. But I do know this.” He met her eyes earnestly. “I may not feel guilty about killing two of your kind, or any of the murders before the chip. But I would feel guilty now, if I killed anyone. Because I know that it would hurt all of you to hate me, or to kill me.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered.

He shrugged. “It didn’t make sense that I felt remorse after what happened the last time you were in my crypt, too, but I can’t help it. Sorry I’m messing up your worldview or whatever, love.”

She turned away from him, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be avoiding him. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Spike nodded. “I see.”

“I mean, you’re entitled. You’re with Faith, not me.” She wanted to stop talking, to keep it all bottled up inside instead of revealing this much to him, but her mouth just kept moving, unbidden. “Although first you act like you’re sorry that we aren’t together, and then you go off and have a fun time with Faith!”

“I didn’t-“

She cut off swiftly. “And then, to confuse matters even more, you refuse to do anything with her last night. So what you’ve really got me wondering is why? Why would you-“

“You know why,” Spike said softly, his eyes seeking hers out.

She hesitated at his unwavering gaze. “It doesn’t matter. You can go back to Faith.” The words hurt, but not as much as it would if things went sour between them. “I’m not going to date another vampire. Not now, not ever.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? I’m not Angelus, you stupid bint!”

Buffy clenched her fists. “Don’t say his name!”

“Or what?” Spike taunted, moving his hands to her shoulders, forcing her to stay still. “You’re going to actually accept that he never loved you? That he wasn’t capable of love? That you’ve been completely ruined for relationships by a bastard who never treated you the way you-“

She yanked his head forward until it was only inches from hers. “Shut up!” she hissed, and smashed her lips to his.

He responded immediately, pulling her up against him and back toward the armchair. She gave him one last shove, letting him pull her with him as he fell into the seat, climbing up on his lap and drinking in the passion that accompanied the kiss. His lips molded to hers as their tongues danced desperately, straining further and further into each other until they couldn’t be any closer. Buffy was wrapped around Spike, clutching at him with all she had and needing more, more…

Then she had to pull away from him, gasping for the oxygen she’d forgotten she needed in the throes of passion, and she finally remembered herself.

She stared at him, wild-eyed, and couldn’t help wondering. Where did she go from here?