Pale hands gripped the cool black plastic of the steering wheel. Knuckles white from gripping too long and too tight, intently at the task of making ones way closer and closer to his yet unknown destination. Miles and miles of black pavement and white lane paint had been seen by his tired, cold, blue eyes. Mile markers ticking by state, by state, by state. Time ebbed and flowed past him in his endless pursuit of a dark, lonely eternity without her.

It all comes down to her. Every time its about her. Why he can’t stay. Why he can. Why he will do this. Why he won’t do that. Always all about her. She doesn’t even know it. Doesn’t know that he roams the earth staying away from her. For her he says. Always for her.

To protect her. To give her a normal life. A life well earned and once wanted. All for the love of her.

He lied to her once. Told her he didn’t believe her when she finally admitted to him what she wouldn't allow herself to admit to even her own heart. That she did love him. She had to leave him. Let him burn to cinders....He never bothered to tell her he came back. Never let anyone else tell her. What he knew for sure. was this, she deserve a normal life. Surely there were enough slayers to keep her from having to go out every night to protect the world. She could have what she had always wanted. The mere thought of Buffy living a happy normal life was enough to keep Spike far away from her. Never telling her he was undead and still madly in love with his “Goldilocks.”

The nights passed, filled with endless driving. The days with endless dreams of her.

That is the way it would remain. From now till eternity without her....