“Bloody hell, Buffy – you have no idea how much I *want* to try again.”

The Slayer’s emerald eyed lit up with hope at the heartfelt yearning in his words. She leaned forward automatically toward him, her hands reaching to take his arms and draw him nearer to her. To her surprise and dismay he drew back quickly away from her before she could touch him.

“*But*…” he went on firmly, pointedly, though holding her gaze unflinchingly, willing her to understand – bravely facing the disappointment and hurt in her eyes at his words, in a way she had never had the courage to do when their positions had been reversed. “…I don’t know if I can, Buffy – not yet.”

Buffy visibly, physically withdrew from him; he could actually see her close up into herself, her arms crossed defensively – but not angrily – over her chest, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment and shame. He wanted to say something to ease her hurt – but did not know if he was capable of it at the moment. All he could say right now would be the truth.

And the truth in this particular situation was and always had been painful.

“Wow,” she said flatly after a moment, shaking her head slightly. “I – I had no idea…I mean…” she broke off her rambling suddenly, looking up at him with wide, honest eyes full of sorrow and remorse. “I’m so sorry, Spike…”

“I know, Buffy, I really do…it’s just…”

“No – for – for doing *this* to you…over and over,” she clarified, holding his gaze with a slightly bewildered look of dawning understanding in her eyes. “Because *this* -- this back and forth, yes and no, now I want you, now I don’t crap – it hurts. Bad.”

He did not respond for a moment, surprised by her statement.

Buffy gave a little half-shrug, not quite able to pull off indifference, looking down at the porch between them. “I deserve it – I know I do – it’s all I ever did to you…”

“Buffy,” he cut her off, gently but firmly, moving in close to her and catching her arms in his hands, trying desperately to focus her attention back on him before her hurt and embarrassment at his rejection took her beyond his reach. “Buffy, no – that’s *not* what this is.”

She met his eyes again, questioning, imploring and uncertain, but did not say a word.

Now, he found that he was the one who could not look at her, his eyes lowering to the rough wood of the porch between them. “Buffy,” he tried again to make her understand what he was trying to say. “I *do* want you. I always want you – and that’s not bloody likely to change, even if I wanted it to.”

“Do you?” she asked, her voice soft and calm, and yet heavy with the weight of her fear of what his answer would be. “Want it to change?”

Spike was silent for a long moment. Finally he replied quietly, evenly, “Sometimes.”

Buffy swallowed hard, and Spike could smell the salt of her tears even before he looked up to see them glistening in her eyes. A part of him wanted to apologize, to tell her he hadn’t meant it, he was privileged to have ever been with her and would not take back a moment of it – but another part was grateful that the truth spell would not allow him that lie.

And maybe, he realized, looking into her stricken, pain-filled – but finally understanding – eyes…maybe…that was as it should be.

She needed to know.

He looked down between them again, opening his mouth to speak, his voice coming out hoarse and achingly vulnerable, sending a stab of remorse and guilt through the Slayer’s heart at his simple, honest words.

“You hurt me, Buffy. So much. Again and again…and sometimes…sometimes I just wish I could forget you – wish I could never have come here, never have known you, never wanted you – just because then – then you couldn’t hurt me, Buffy.”

The tears fell from her eyes then, at that quiet confession, reminding her once again of how shamefully she had treated him, when he had only ever wanted to love her. Although the words sounded useless to her, a hollow echoing of the depth of feeling in her heart, she couldn’t help but whisper, “I’m sorry…”

He hardly heard her, as he went on, his eyes wide and focused just beyond her, as he remembered their painful, tumultuous relationship. “…and yet,” he continued in a voice barely over a whisper, “yet…there’s a part of me that’s still so bloody desperate for you – still hears your voice when you’re not there – still hopes every time my bloody door opens that it’s you…misses you so much…”

He lowered his head, but not before she saw the single tear that escaped down his cheek, as he whispered in a voice that ached with sorrow and loneliness and despair.

“I still need you, Buffy.”

The fact that the feelings for her that he still held could fill him with such pain and despair was overwhelming to Buffy. She felt the slow ache that had been building in her chest intensifying, until she felt that her heart would burst under the pressure of her guilt and shame, mingling with the intense love she felt for Spike.

How could she ever have denied it?

“Spike,” she whispered, edging nearer, trying to regain eye contact. “you *have* me – now. And – and for the rest of my life. I promise you, Spike – if you’ll just give me the chance to love you – I’ll never make you regret it again.” She paused, smiling a bit sadly into tentative tear-filled blue eyes that rose to meet hers. “And you *know* that’s the truth.”

“I know you mean it,” he corrected softly, searching her eyes, his own wide and solemn. “I *don’t* know it’s the truth. There *is* a difference, love.”

She understood what he was saying, though she was certain that in this case, there *was* no difference. She could very well intend to do as she said, and still let him down later – but she knew that that was not going to happen. It had taken a long time, and a lot of heartache for both of them, though mostly for Spike.

But Buffy had learned her lesson.

If she could only ever get Spike back – she would never be foolish enough to let him go again.

“I know,” she replied softly. “And – I’m not promising that I’ll never make a mistake. But – I’ll never willingly hurt you again, Spike. You have to know that. It took – it took completely losing – the one thing that I needed the most, but didn’t know that I needed it – to realize how much I *did* need it – to really appreciate it.”

Her awkward wording caused a slight frown in his fine features, as he tried to follow the twisting path her statement had taken. She smiled affectionately, raising a hand to touch his cheek and draw his uncertain eyes to hers again.

“*You*, Spike,” she clarified gently. “I need *you*. And I promise you, I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t hurt you again…”

“You – you might not mean to,” he countered, his voice hesitant and unsure, and she knew that she was getting through to him, though he was still a little afraid to accept what she was offering. “You might want me now – because you feel like you can’t have me at the moment. But – but I’ll never be – never be good enough for you in your eyes, Buffy.”

“And one day – you’re gonna remember that I’m *not* the man you’ve hoped for all your life – and I won’t be able to blame you, Buffy – but that won’t make it hurt any less. I just – I just don’t know if I can – if I can set myself up for that much bloody pain, love. I just – I just don’t know,” he finished miserably, his eyes downcast and closed, his head bowed as tears streaked his face.

Buffy leaned instinctively toward him, her head bowing to rest against his, her heart aching with what she had done to him – how badly she had shaken the foundations of his courage and confidence – how thoroughly she had broken him.

“Spike,” she whispered, her words coming out slow and even, in a voice that was heavy and thick with her tears, as she tried to choose just the right ones to express what she was feeling. “I wish you could trust me right now. I wish I could make you believe that I’ll never hurt you again. But – I know – it took more than words to destroy your trust in me – and it’s gonna take more than words to build it back up again, too.”

“But,” she went on, pulling back slightly and attempting to meet his eyes again, though he was still reluctant to look up at her, and completely reveal his emotional reaction to her eyes. “I wanna do that, Spike. I want to earn your trust back – step by slow, painful step.”

When he did not look up at her, Buffy lowered her head to rest against his again – and they were both quiet for a long moment, each fighting back tears, neither daring to look at the other, engulfed in a wave of powerful emotions that swept over them, carrying them away beyond their control.

What remained to be seen was whether that wave would bring them together – or tear them apart forever.

“I want to show you that I mean what I’m saying, Spike,” Buffy went on, her voice more controlled now, but still low and heavy with the depth of her emotions. “I want to – to patrol with you, and have you know that I’ll have your back, not just count on you to have mine. I want to take you where my friends are, and treat you like my equal, respected, cherished partner – let them and you both see that you’re *not* beneath me – never were – and that anyone who wants to be a part of my life is just going to have to accept that you’re a very big part of it. If – if you still want to be,” she added, her words ending in a soft sob, her hand rising to stroke softly through the hair at the back of his head, in a tender caress.

“I want to hold your hand and kiss you in public, where everyone can see what you are to me – I want you to know that you can tell me anything, and I’ll never say a word if you don’t want me to, and always love you just the same -- I want to wake up with you morning after morning after morning, until finally, one day you know that *every time* you wake up – I’m still gonna be there,” she whispered, her every word infused with the sorrow and pain of knowing how she had hurt him by making him believe that she had left him alone.

The pain of that memory filled him as well, at her words, and he drew in a sharp breath, swallowing back an anguished sob as tears washed down his face like rain. Buffy’s hand slid around to gently rub the tears away from his cheek with her thumb, without raising her head.

“I love you so much, Spike,” she whispered earnestly, her tone leaving no doubt as to her sincerity, “and all I want is to start right now and spend the rest of my life loving you. But – but I know that – it can’t be like that. Not – right away. I know you still need time – to be sure. I know I have to prove that I’m worthy of your trust, Spike – because I wasn’t before.”

She paused, thinking her words out carefully, before going on in a soft, still, tentative voice, “But – but Spike – there’s no way that I can prove that I deserve your trust – if you don’t give me a little to begin with.”

She did not say anything else right away, and he was silent, taking in those stunning, profoundly simple words. He wondered why he had not considered that point before.

She was right, of course.

He could hope that she had changed, he could hear her say it over and over again, but until he actually *gave* her some treasured piece of his heart, his devotion, again – there was no way of knowing what she might do with it.

He could not bring himself to speak, his trembling lips parted and breathing hard, as he struggled for control of his emotions. He knew she was right – wanted to give her what she was asking…but…

“I’m just so bloody scared, Buffy,” he whispered, shaking his head slightly against hers, before slowly pulling back and meeting her eyes, his own red and glistening with tears. “I’m so scared to – to let you in…”

“I know,” she whispered back, holding his gaze unflinchingly. “I know, Spike. I understand if you – if you can’t. It’s just – if you don’t *ever*…then…” Her voice trailed off, as her pretty features shifted into an apologetic little grimace, her eyes searching his for understanding.

He nodded, drawing in a deep breath. “I know,” he sighed softly. “I know, Buffy.”

They were both quiet for a long moment, and the weight of the decision that the vampire had to make became heavier on the Slayer’s heart with each passing moment. She somehow sensed that he was struggling over the issue in his heart, his mind, trying to come to a decision, to muster up the courage to test her words.

His full, trembling lips parted to speak – and Buffy thought that in that moment, her heart stopped completely.

“Okay – so where’s the vengeance demon?”

Anya’s harsher than usual voice instantly shattered the atmosphere that had built between the two former lovers, and they both looked up self-consciously to see the former vengeance demon and her fiancé heading quickly up the walkway.

Buffy tried not to let her heart shatter as Spike immediately shifted back away from her, turning so that his knees were no longer facing hers – effectively placing a distance between them for the eyes of her friends.

Although she knew it should not surprise her, it hurt to think that even after all she had just said to him, all she had said to her friends earlier that evening, a part of him still believed that she would not want them to see her so close to him.

“Haven’t seen her tonight,” Spike replied calmly to Anya’s question, not quite looking at her or the Whelp as he stood to his feet on the porch step, and then stepped down onto the ground, sniffing back tears and wiping quickly at his eyes in a gesture that could as easily have been rubbing at them because they were tired. “Though she must have been here at some point. The Niblet made the wish at her school today.”

“Wait – this was *Dawn’s* wish?” Anya clarified.

“I told you that already,” Xander whined, an insecure note to his voice as he reminded her of what he had told her earlier.

“Yeah, well, I was trying to pretend you weren’t there,” Anya shot back matter-of-factly before turning her attention back to Spike and Buffy. “Anyway – kid with hurt feelings makes a wish against her caretaker – think I know who we’re dealing with here,” she said.

Without warning she raised her voice to a near yell, stepping back away from the others and looking up at the sky as if expecting the demon to materialize there.

“*Hallie*!” she snapped. “Get out here!”