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"...Can-can we rest now? Buffy...can we rest?"

Buffy was frozen in her spot. She couldn't speak. She could barely move, and was finding it hard to breathe. She was numbly aware that she had tears falling down her cheeks as she watched the...vampire? Demon? Man? lay himself bare. Not just to her, but for all who would dare to stop and look.

The smell of burning flesh brought her back to her senses. She rushed over to where he was slumped against the huge cross.

"Spike?" her voice quivered with her emotions. He didn't answer. He didn't make any movement to say that he had heard her, or even acknowledge that she was now standing next to him.

She spoke again, her voice louder and stronger this time, although she still couldn't hide her emotions. "Spike! Get off that damn cross NOW!"

Again he did not move. But he did speak. "I need rest," He whispered.

She went to pull him off herself, but when her hand touched his flesh, he jumped back of the cross and flew backwards, almost trying to get as far away from her as possible.

"No...Can't...I...I'm bad...Don't want to...Cant..." he rambled, ignoring the pain she knew he must be feeling. Both the emotional pain of having to bare this to her, and the physical pain from his burns.

She wanted to cry out when he moved away from her with such force, and she wondered if she should even attempt to go near him now.

He wasn't making sense again, although this time it wasn't so surprising. He had a soul. He had gotten a soul. For her. A romantic gesture, even if the reason was selfish. No one had ever done anything so...beautiful just for her, to be with her. His earlier words, his explanation, burned through her. She had done this. She had reduced the once bad ass slayer of slayers, William the bloody, to this...this heap of emotional wreckage.

She took a step towards him, but stopped herself when he flinched.

"Spike. I..." she didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who gives up everything for you? "...Sorry," she whispered.

He started laughing, not his usual laugh that was snaked with his sarcasm and trademark smirk. No, this was the kind of laugh that sent shivers through her. It wasn't quite evil, yet it was far from good. Bone chilling and creepy.

He stopped laughing and spoke, but not to her, like he had done down in the basement. "Says she's sorry." He laughed again. "Stupid girl. Didn't do anything to be sorry for." He turned to look into her hurt, sad and fearful hazel eyes and spoke to her for the first time since leaving the cross. "Not you."

It was cryptic, and Buffy was not thinking straight right now. She needed him to make sense so that she could make sense of the situation.

"Spike, please," she begged as she walked towards him once more. To her joy, he did not move away, so she kept walking until she was at his side. "What's not me?" It was the only thing she could think of to say to him.

"Not your fault," he replied. Tears brimmed in his bright blue eyes, and his voice cracked with emotion as he continued. "Mine, all mine. I tried to...I hurt you. My slayer." Tears fell from his eyes, and his voice was filled with self-hating. "I'm a bad, bad man."

"Spike?" she croaked out, but it was barely audible.

The urge to touch him became too much and she knelt down beside him and slowly and gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. She looked into his soulful eyes, biting on her bottom lip to keep it from shaking she spoke.

"You're Wrong," she told him, shaking her head slightly. "It is my fault, all of it. If I hadn't...If I didn't..." she broke off as another wave of raw emotion hit her.

"Don..."

"No, let me say this," She said, stopping him from making a speech. It was her turn. She took a deep, shaky breath. "I was so horrible to you last year. I beat you. I used you. I toyed with you..."

"Didn't mind," he cut in. However, there was no hint of sarcasm, no smirk on his lips, just the blank statement.

"Yes you did," she said back. "You always did. I just refused to see it. I made myself believe that all you wanted was my body, that you could live without the rest of me. But I can't anymore."

He went to say something again but the shake of her head stopped him.

"I can't pretend. And I'm sorry I ever did." Her voice broke at that point and she stopped. She moved away from him, just like he had moved away from her only minutes ago. She was shaking with the effort to keep from crying. "I did this. I pushed you to this," she stated, gesturing his state. "I'm the bad one here, Spike...I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't cry," he managed to say. He crawled over to her and looked at her like he had never seen her before. "Didn't do it so you'd cry," he told her.

She looked up at him and smiled slightly. "Can't help it," she replied. "How could you, Spike?"

"Love you," was all he said back.

"I know," she said softly, and it was his turn to smile slightly. "That's why it hurt so much."

"What?" he asked.

"When you...tried to...do what...you almost... I used to need to know how you could do that to me, after you kept telling me you loved me. How could you hurt me like that?"

"Didn't know. Didn't know what was going on," he confirmed.

"I know that too," she replied.

"Don't need to know now?" he asked, referring to her past tense.

"I know now," she said. "Like I said before, it's all 'coz of me. I was a stone cold bitch last year. And you seemed to get the most of it. I could have stayed away from you, could've ended it sooner. But I didn't. I led you on, teased you, then tossed you away. I drove you to that night, Spike. And I'm sorry...William." She said his given name so softly, almost like a prayer on her lips.

"Says my name," he said distantly, smiling at her.

"Yeah," was all she could say in return.

They sat there in silence for what felt like centuries. Only when Buffy became aware of how close it was to sunrise did she break the silence.

"We should get you home," she said as she stood up. She held her hand out to him, but he refused to take it. "Spike? please..."

"Don't have one," he said, pushing her hand away.

"One what?" she asked, wiping her tears away roughly with her palms.

"Home."

"Oh. What about the school?" she asked. However, she didn't think that was the right home for anyone, especially Spike.

"It's there," he replied.

"What is?"

"The thing beneath, beneath you. Both beneath you, we are. Tells me so."

"You're not beneath me, Spike," she told him firmly. "He...she...It's wrong, okay? You have to stop listening to it. Listen to me, okay?"

"But he won't leave. I have no place to go."

"With me. You can go with me. C'mon, I'm taking you home before the sun comes up."

"No," he shook his head stubbornly.

Buffy grabbed his shoulders, avoiding the burns, and lifted him to his feet. His strength left him, and he was about to sink down to the floor again, but thanks to her slayer strength, she was able to stop him. She wrapped one arm around his waist and put one of his arms over her shoulders.

"You. Are. Coming. Home. With. Me," she grunted out as she dragged him across the room.

"Why?" was all he could ask.

"You need to be taken care of. I'm going to take care of you."

She led him out of the church, keeping to the shadows in case the sun came up without her noticing.

Spike was quiet the whole time, thinking that this was all a dream, or at the very least, that she would do what she always did and run off and leave him. But she didn't; she held him and helped him walk out into the streets of Sunnydale.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when they made it to her front door.

Buffy struggled to open the door while still holding the vampire. When she had the door open, she was immediately jumped by her younger sister.

"Buffy, where have you been? Xander said you ran off. What happened? Where did you go?" Dawn babbled. She had yet to notice the wounded vampire that her sister was leading into the house.

"Dawn, please just close the door. The sun's coming up," buffy said as the dragged Spike over the threshold, thanking whoever that she hadn't put up another barrier to stop him from coming in.

Dawn looked confused, but then she took in Spike: his injuries and his posture. Closing the door she asked, "What happened to him?"

Buffy sat Spike down on the stairs. He was exhausted, so his body fell limply against the railings. Buffy patted his cheek and he closed his eyes, ready for sleep.

Turning back to her confused sister, Buffy replied, "There was..." she paused and looked down at spikes burns "...an accident." She looked back at Dawn. "He needs somewhere to stay for a while."

"But Buffy, he... you know. How could you let him stay here?" her sister asked.

Truth be told, Buffy was asking herself the same thing. Spike's words from the church once again came into her mind. She looked at the, what she assumed to be, sleeping man on her stairs as she replied, "Why does a woman do what she mustn't? For him. To be good for him"

Dawn stared at her sister, confused by her answer. "What?" she asked.

Buffy just shook her head and turned back to her sister. "I need to help him, Dawnie. I just...do."

"Okay," Dawn replied as she walked past Spike on her way to bed. "But don't get all bitchy and offensive when it blows up in your face."

Watching her sister storm off, Buffy sighed. This was never going to be easy. She knelt down in front of Spike and thought about how to wake him up. There was no way she was going to attempt to carry all of his weight. Normally she would throw things at his head, but he didn't deserve that now, never really had. "Spike?" she called out softly. "Wake up."

He didn't open his eyes, so she tried again. "William, please."

That did it. Slowly, his eyes opened and focused on hers. "That's twice," he said. "Twice you've said my name." He smiled at her.

She smiled back, then started to help him up again. "Come on sleeping beauty. Let's get you to bed."

He willingly stood up, but when she started leading him up the stairs, he panicked.

"Oh no, no, no," he protested, and tried to get away from her.

"What? What is it?" she asked.

"Not there. Bad, bad man. Not there," he mumbled, and tried to go back down the stairs.

Buffy grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Spike," she said firmly, "stop it. We are not going anywhere near the bathroom. Well, you're not. You're going straight to bed."

"Your bed?" he asked.

"Yeah, my bed," she told him. "C'mon then."

He didn't protest, just let her take him wherever. When they passed the bathroom, he stiffened and fought the urge to pull away from her and run out into the sun. Buffy felt his mood change, and nearly ran past the room that held so many horrible memories for the both of them.

Once inside her room, she laid him down on the bed, then made sure her curtains were completely closed.

"You stay here," she instructed, then walked back to the door. "I'll be right back."

She left the room and went to get some towels and cool water from the bathroom. She knew it was pointless to try to fix him up. His vampire healing would no doubt see him nearly healed by midday, but this was something she had to do. She felt like everything that had happened to him was her fault.

She re-entered her bedroom to find him half-lying on the burns, almost as if he was trying not to get comfortable: like he was waiting for her to kick him out or something. She walked over to him and placed everything on her dressing table.

"On your back," she instructed with a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him down.

He was silent and his eyes were closed as she dressed the wound. He winced as the cooled water hit his skin.

When she was done, she stood over him and looked down and his scarred chest and tired muscles.

"Spike, are you sleeping?" she asked, even though she knew it was a stupid question. Was he going to say yes to her in his sleep?

"No," he replied, and opened his eyes. "Can't, not in this house. Too many memories."

"I know," she agreed. "For me too." She ran a fingertip over his cheekbones. His eyes shut again and he took in an un-needed breath. "So much has gone on here. Too much pain and not enough joy. I found out my sister wasn't really my sister. My mother died here, and I found her, just lying there. Tara was killed here. I nearly died here, and..." she trailed off and looked away from him.

He grabbed her hand and stopped its movements on his face. "...and I tried to rape you," he finished for her.

Her head snapped back around and she looked at him. "Yes, that too. There's so much that happened in this house. So much bad that it's hard to focus on the good."

"I get it," he replied. "Bit like the whole redemption thing. Always thought angel was a poofter, going on about how hard it was to find peace after...everything. But it is hard."

"You'll find it, redemption I mean-- both you and Angel. You've both done so much. And you even before you got your soul," she told him. She didn't want to compare him to angel, but she had no other choice.

"Doesn't work like that, Luv. I could save hundreds of thousands of people, kill nearly every evil demon that walked this earth, but...but all that wouldn't even make up for one life that I took. Definitely doesn't make up for what I did to you."

"No, no don't mention that. Ever again," she said firmly, yet her tone was soft. "I'm going to be patient with you, Spike. I wanna see the man you became when I left, and I wanna see him grow into the man you could be; the man you will be."

"Why?" he asked. "Why treat me like a man now, and not a monster? And if it's cos of the soul, then I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity," she said defensively, "and it's not just cos of the soul. Well, that is a big part of it, but...you've always been a man in my eyes, Spike. Or at least ever since you proved that you loved me."

"Don't lie," he said. "You treated me like the monster I am. Even you said so."

"I know, I just... I don't know...I was in denial or something. Like if I came out and was all like 'Spikes not an evil vampire anymore,' then I would have to admit that what we were doing last year was okay. And I didn't want that." She looked away again and breathed, "I'm sorry for that."

They were silent again for a few moments. Buffy was barely aware that it was now 7:30, and Dawn would have to get up to go to school soon.

"When?" he asked out of the blue.

"When what?" she asked, confused by the question.

"When did I prove that I loved you?" he asked, smiling slightly. "Always thought you said it was all a load of rubbish."

"I know," she smiled back. "I guess if I think about it now, I've always known. But I think the thing that really did it for the first time, was when you let Glory beat you. You could have easily given Dawnie up, but you didn't. And I never thanked you for that."

"That kiss was enough," he replied.

"Still, you should hear the words, every word. I'm sick of hiding everything, or trying to show what I mean by actions. It's not fair. So thank you, for everything: your help, your love..." she paused and rested her hand inches above his chest, over his heart, "...your soul."

"Thought it'd make you love me," he confessed, "make you want me, make me be what you needed. But this isn't what you deserve, Buffy, not me. I see that now."

"Don't say that," she shushed him. "You are what I need. You are so special, Spike... to me. You're always faithful to me and my friends, even when we give you no reason to be. You've always been what I needed," she told him.

"You still deserve better," he said.

"There is nothing better," she replied. "I've seen your heart, and it's perfect. Your soul, all of you."

"Do you know what you're saying, Pet?" he asked, looking at her sternly. "If this is just because of the soul and everything that's happened, then stop talking, otherwise you'll regret it.

"I told you it's not the soul," she snapped, annoyed at his stubbornness. Yet she could only blame herself. She had never given him any reason to think she might be nice and caring towards him. She took a deep breath and continued calmly. "I don't need to think it over, I know what I'm saying. I'm moving forward, away from the mess that was us last year. Give me a chance to explain. I have to, to ease my mind. I'm so confused, Spike."

"Thought I was the one not making sense?" he half-joked.

She ignored him and continued. "You make me feel things that I've never felt before. And they terrify me. It nearly drove me crazy last year, wanting you so badly, but always holding a bit of myself back from you: the important part. I know you wanted me... hopefully still want me, and I know how much it hurt you every time I left. I made you hurt so many times in the past, made you question whether I was ever there with you, and I'm sorry. I don't want to do that anymore. I was there with you, every time. I never thought about being with someone else," she said, making sure not to say any names like Angel.

"Were you really there?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes." She nodded her head softly. "Always with you, only you."

"Thought it was one sided," he admitted.

"That's what I wanted you to think. I was so ashamed for that. It made me just as bad as every evil thing out there," she said as she sat down on the bed by his side.

He turned slightly to look at her better. "You're nothing like them," he told her firmly.

"I know, but it made me feel that way: putting you through all of that. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"I forgive you, always," he replied.

"Spike?" she asked after another silence.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Do you...do you still want me?" She asked her question softly, and he had to strain just to hear it, even with vampire super hearing.

"Always," he replied simply, "but that doesn't matter."

"Why not?" she asked, slightly hurt.

"I'll always love you, always want you. But I know you don't feel the same, and even if you did, which in my dreams you do, I know I cant be everything you need. I'd just waste your time, keep you from the light"

"I thought you said I belonged in the dark?" she asked, "with you."

"Selfish of me that was," he said. "I wanted you to see the way I do, see you at your worst and best. But...but its all the same: you're gorgeous in both light and dark places. But you can only shine in the light, without me." He added the last bit with so much regret and sadness.

"I've learnt a lot about myself these past few years: what being the slayer means, what being me means. And I've realized that I can't stay in the dark, and I cant stay in the light. I need both, a healthy balance. I need to know what you feel?" she asked.

"I love you. That's how I feel, but..." he said, but she cut him off with a finger against his lips.

"Then that's it. I don't want to hide anymore, Spike," she said, looking directly into his eyes.

"There's something better out there for you, better than me," he said sadly, half not wanting to believe what she was saying.

Ready to make him understand, she gently took his face in her hands and held him lovingly.

"I don't want another pretty face," she said, while caressing his cheekbones. "I don't want just anyone to hold. I don't want my love to go to waste anymore. It's suffocating me. I don't want to have to work on a relationship. You're the one I wanna chase. You're the one I wanna hold; no one else," she paused, and stopped her movements, then continued with nothing but love in her voice towards the man lying on her bed. "I love you spike, with all that I am and then some. And I will not let another minute of what we have go to waste."

Spike felt his heart leap into his throat. He wanted to say it back, wanted to move, to do anything, but he couldn't. Tears came to his eyes, and he tried to blink them back, but with no luck.

She leaned forward so that her forehead rested against his. Looking deep into his bright blue loving eyes, she said, "I want you and your beautiful soul," before kissing him.

Spike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him, the pain of his burns forgotten as he kissed the women he loved; the women who loved him back.

Her words burned into his mind, "I want you and your beautiful soul," forever.

The End