“I am not your girl!” Buffy cried, launching herself at Spike as he fell to the floor, her fists lashing out before she could even think.

“You don’t have a soul.” Punch.
“There is nothing good or clean in you.” Punch.
“You are dead inside.” Punch.
“You can’t feel anything real.” Punch.
“I could never be your girl.”


Her fists continued, beating his pale skin as his face slipped back into his human guise. And still she could not stop. Emotions that she had bottled up for so long came spilling out, turning into anger that she unleashed on the vampire. And he took it all, not even putting up the slightest bit of resistance. Growing weary, her punches slowed, and she gradually took in the horror of what she had done. Slower, slower, hardly grazing him now, until finally they came to rest against his chest, her wide eyes taking in the mess she had made of his beautiful face. And still he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing on this earth.


It was too much and she sagged, a sob ripping from her as she sank her head against his chest, her whole body trembling. She couldn’t stop the onslaught and she cried helplessly, her sore hands fisted in his shirt. In the midst of her pain, she felt his arms come round her, heard his whispered words of comfort against her hair- slow and painful words- and it just made her cry harder. She buried her head against him, wanting it all just to go away.

“I can’t…that woman…and I…I’m sorry…I’m…bad.”

The words tumbled from her lips in between sobs, a jumble of nonsense, straight from her aching heart. She was a monster.


“I can’t do this…anymore. I…not me…I can’t.”

“Shh, love. It’s okay. Everythin’s gonna be okay. I’m here. I’ll make it right.”

The emotion in his words made her calm for a moment and she raised teary eyes to his, once again wincing at the bruises on his beautiful skin. His one good eye met hers in a blaze of blue, all his love pouring out over her, and he raised a hand to her hair.

“We’ll make it right,” he whispered, “Whatever you want, love. Can’t bear to see you hurtin’ like this.”

She sniffed and looked at him gratefully as she pushed herself off him carefully and got to her feet.


Pausing though, she knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around him, helping him to his feet.

“Buffy?” he questioned.

“Let me help you,” she whispered, draping one arm over her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist.

“M’fine, love. I’ve had worse beatings.”

“Not from me,” she choked out, daring to meet his gaze for a few seconds before she looked away. He stopped though, drawing her to a halt with him.

“What’s going on, love?”
She turned to him, unable to look at him directly because of what she had done to his face.

“We’ll talk later, okay? Just, please, let me help you.”


He said nothing but draped his arm over her shoulder again and they moved off along the alley. They had just got out into the street and she glanced over to the police station, but Spike’s arm tightened around her and with a tiny nod, they moved on, only to be stopped by the appearance of Xander in front of them.

“Hey guys, did you know-“
He trailed off as he finally took in the damage to the vampire’s face and he frowned.

“What happened?”

Buffy tensed and looked to Spike, before turning back to her friend with resolve.

“I-“

“Demon, ‘course. Bit too quick for me. Luckily, the Slayer turned up.”

“Oh.”

Buffy said nothing, amazed that he had lied to cover up what a monster she was.

“You were saying?”

“They found a girl. Washed up in the river.”

Buffy tensed again but felt Spike’s arm tighten around her shoulder again and the gesture gave her some comfort.

“I…It was…an accident.”

“Yeah, that’s what they’re saying,” Xander remarked, “But you know she was Warren’s girlfriend, right?”

“What?”

“Katrina something.”

“Warren,” Buffy whispered, remembering her brief meeting with Katrina. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been her fault at all.


“Xander,” she spoke up, some of her confidence returned, “Can you get back to gang? Find out when Katrina went missing. And try get Willow to find out about time-bending spells.”

“Right, will do. Where you going? To kick Warren’s ass?”

“No. I’m going to help Spike. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning in the shop, okay?”

Xander looked like he wanted to protest but wisely said nothing, especially when his eyes rested on the injured vampire again.

“Right, to the research. See ya.”
He disappeared along the street and Buffy wrapped her arm around Spike’s waist again and began to move.

“You don’t need to help me, love. I’ll be fine.”

“I do,” she answered firmly, “Let me do this.”

He said nothing and they moved along through the dark streets to the cemetery, finally reaching his crypt.


They went in and she got them both down into the lower level, guiding him to sit on the bed.

“Have you got any first aid stuff?”

“Should be some in that chest,” he answered painfully, pointing to a chest to one side as he shrugged off his duster.


She found some cloth and antiseptic and moved to sit beside Spike, her eyes moving over the bruises. Being as gentle as she could, she began to clean his face, hoping to at least minimise the damage she had caused.

“Why did you lie for me?” she asked quietly, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t want you getting worked up over nothin’. And didn’t need the Whelp making you feel worse.”

“Spike!” she gasped, astounded, “I beat the crap out of you.”

“And I let you. You gotta take all that tension out on someone, and I’d rather it was me.”

“Spike,” she breathed, raising wide eyes to his, “You…I don’t deserve you.”

His one good eye widened in surprise and she smiled wearily, finally replacing the cloth. He looked marginally better, but she knew one thing that would have him healed up in no time. She shifted closer, pulling her hair to one side as she reached out and touched his bruised face.

“You need blood to heal.”

“No, Slayer,” he all but growled, “I won’t do it.”

“Do I have to force you?”

“Slayer-“

“Let me help. Let me make it right.”

He made no further protest as she guided his head towards her neck, holding her breath as she felt his tongue pass over her skin. She felt the slightest nick and then the gentle pull of his mouth and she was amazed at how pain-free the whole thing was.



He pulled back, watching her with his one good eye, his hand resting on her arm still where he had steadied her.

“You din’t have to.”

“I did. Now, you need to rest.”

“You going?” he asked tautly, even as he moved to lie on the bed, stretching his long legs out on the bed.

“No,” she answered firmly, slipping his heavy boots off, “I’m staying.”

“What?”

She smiled as she raised her gaze to him and pulled the covers from underneath him.

“I’m staying.”

“With me?”

“Yes. We…I want to talk to you. After you’ve rested.”

“I’m fine-“

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll talk.”

He frowned as she kicked off her shoes and moved under the covers with him, curling up next to him.

“Slayer, you okay?”

“I think I’m getting there.”


He frowned but soon exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep beside her and she soon followed him.