[ If there's anything about this that makes her feel guilty, it's that. His reaction makes her chest tighten and her heart ache, because she doesn't want to do this to him but she can't not. ]
I understand, believe me I do. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't believe any of this. But I'm not lying to you, Spike, and I don't-- I'm not expecting anything from you. I just miss having you in my life.
But you are. You might not want to say it out loud, but you are. Expecting something from me. I can see it, you know. I don't know exactly what it is, but if what you said before is true... for you... then you expect something in me to recognize it. You want something.
[He refilled his glass, looking down at it because it was a hell of a lot easier than looking at her. Then he drank it, the whole thing, in a few burning swallows before he moved to refill it.]
[ He's not wrong about this either. She hates herself for it, that she's putting him in this position. He doesn't deserve to have her just waltz into the life he's made here and turn it all upside down. Downing the rest of her glass, she wraps both her hands around it and leans forward to set her arms on her legs. ]
You're right, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve to have me following after you hoping you'll remember something you don't actually feel.
[ Buffy refuses to cry, but there's more than a little choked-back emotion in her voice. She also refuses to look at him, because then he'd see just how much she's hurting. ]
[It was said softly. Quietly. A hush of a whisper before he turned to look at her trying so hard not to look at him.]
I wish I knew what you knew. I wish I could remember what I'd felt beyond the muddy memories from the portal mix up. I know I felt something, but I think I had my soul then. Everything just bloody well hurt.
[ He wasn't-- Then what was he doing. What were either of them doing. Just dancing around if and maybes and what might be but not what is. She needs to focus on that, on where he is rather than where she'd like him to be, because this isn't helping either of them. ]
It hurt when you first got it back. You had a hard time dealing with it, and the First didn't help.
Something was off here. Might have been that. I got in a bit of trouble here and some of that was because I just wasn't all there in my head. Had to be babysat for a bit. Not exactly my finer point.
[He sighed, then took another drink. Slowly, he asked her:]
Was I like him? Anything like... Angel? Was I so different?
[She had to know what he meant. Angelus versus Angel were two completely different people in one body. Was he so different from himself with his soul?]
[ His question makes her go still, and she really thinks on her answer before even trying to articulate anything. He deserves the truth about all of this, and she doesn't want it to seem like she's keeping anything from him simply by misspeaking. ]
You weren't like Angel. [ Taking a deep breath, she sits up properly and finally looks at him again. ] When Angel didn't have a soul, he was cruel, but you never were, not needlessly. When he had his soul, Angel was fueled by his remorse for everything he'd done as a vampire. You felt remorse, but... that wasn't why you got your soul back. It wasn't what kept you going everyday.
[He asked it, even though he had a niggling feeling he knew the answer already. It was the same thing that had always kept him going -- back when he was alive, after he'd turned, what had kept him close to madness for so bloody long.]
[ Four letters, a single word, and yet she can barely manage to say it. It's a whisper that's more like a breath, and she immediately shifts after she's said it, as if trying to shake off the feel of it. ]
At least, that would be my guess. We never... We didn't get to talk about it much before... everything.
I did tell you one time I was love's bitch. Never minded it that much. Rather have something worth living for -- and while blood and pain's all well and good, love... well. It lasts, don't it? Real love does, anyway. Or the want of it. Gives you a reason for being. You have to love something, don't you? Blood. Death. Someone. Something. I'll take that over being like Angelus was before he got his little curse.
[ Some part of her would always love Angel, and that same part would forever ache at the memory of Angelus and the torment he'd put her through. Those months had been some of the longest of her life, and she wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone. ]
[ She lifts a hand to rub at her eyes, feeling run down and wired all at the same time. All of this is confusing and she wishes she could make it easier for him. She could, of course, and she fully realizes that taking herself out of the equation would accomplish that perfectly, but... Love is selfish. ]
You and Angel are two very different people, and I loved you both for different reasons. You're the one who was there for me through so many things, and I just... I'll always love you, even if you don't love me.
That why you let me come in your room, all cozy and invited even though you say I can hurt you?
[Because that? That was new. He'd been let into the inner sanctums before because he'd been harmless. If he'd been able to hurt her, he doubted that would have stuck.]
[He couldn't really help himself. He wasn't souled, but he'd had that bloody dream. He was still Spike, still the vampire that pushed those little limits he'd been given. His hand raised, as if to tuck her hair behind her ear. Testing.]
[ She doesn't hesitate to answer, and she doesn't move an inch. If he wants to touch her, he can -- she'll stop him before anything goes too far, but she trusts that that won't happen. Spike has always pressed boundaries and danced around lines drawn in the sand, but there had only ever been once that he'd hurt her unforgivably, and those circumstances aren't going to be repeated here. ]
[If she wasn't confusing him, wasn't touching him, loving him, making him want her, and then kicking her from him, he wouldn't sink to those depths. He hoped. He remembered her telling him that, what he'd done -- or tried to do. He hesitated for a moment before he tucked those few tendrils behind her ear. Soft blonde waves against his finger, and he realized he'd stilled, as if he'd expected her to hit him away.]
What if I wanted a taste?
[Of what was anyone's guess, really. But it was part of that game, part of the spell he felt caught up in just then.]
[ It takes more strength than she'd thought she had left in her to keep from closing her eyes and savoring that small touch. The tiniest connection -- and she wishes it could last forever. But it can't, because he's not hers and all she has it hope. ]
[If his heart could beat, it'd be pounding in his chest. As it was, his pupils dilated, eyes flicking down to the pulse he could see fluttering in her throat, then along the line of her jaw to her lips. Both were tempting.]
[ Her heart does beat, but Buffy is as calm as she's ever been, like the center of a storm where everything is still while the rest of the world is destroyed around her. Her eyes watch Spike's, follow the way they trail along her skin. ]
[It wasn't just what she said, but how she said it. Like she was trying to force him to believe it. Like it mattered to her that he did. His hand lifted again, finger tracing over the line of her pulse before he moved it up along the path his eyes had traveled. Up her throat, up along the edge of her jaw, stopping just shy of the corner of her lips.]
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I understand, believe me I do. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't believe any of this. But I'm not lying to you, Spike, and I don't-- I'm not expecting anything from you. I just miss having you in my life.
I'm sorry if that's selfish of me.
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[He refilled his glass, looking down at it because it was a hell of a lot easier than looking at her. Then he drank it, the whole thing, in a few burning swallows before he moved to refill it.]
Love is selfish. It's supposed to be.
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You're right, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve to have me following after you hoping you'll remember something you don't actually feel.
[ Buffy refuses to cry, but there's more than a little choked-back emotion in her voice. She also refuses to look at him, because then he'd see just how much she's hurting. ]
I'm sorry, Spike.
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[It was said softly. Quietly. A hush of a whisper before he turned to look at her trying so hard not to look at him.]
I wish I knew what you knew. I wish I could remember what I'd felt beyond the muddy memories from the portal mix up. I know I felt something, but I think I had my soul then. Everything just bloody well hurt.
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It hurt when you first got it back. You had a hard time dealing with it, and the First didn't help.
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[He sighed, then took another drink. Slowly, he asked her:]
Was I like him? Anything like... Angel? Was I so different?
[She had to know what he meant. Angelus versus Angel were two completely different people in one body. Was he so different from himself with his soul?]
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You weren't like Angel. [ Taking a deep breath, she sits up properly and finally looks at him again. ] When Angel didn't have a soul, he was cruel, but you never were, not needlessly. When he had his soul, Angel was fueled by his remorse for everything he'd done as a vampire. You felt remorse, but... that wasn't why you got your soul back. It wasn't what kept you going everyday.
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[He asked it, even though he had a niggling feeling he knew the answer already. It was the same thing that had always kept him going -- back when he was alive, after he'd turned, what had kept him close to madness for so bloody long.]
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[ Four letters, a single word, and yet she can barely manage to say it. It's a whisper that's more like a breath, and she immediately shifts after she's said it, as if trying to shake off the feel of it. ]
At least, that would be my guess. We never... We didn't get to talk about it much before... everything.
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Right prick, that sodding ass.
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[ Some part of her would always love Angel, and that same part would forever ache at the memory of Angelus and the torment he'd put her through. Those months had been some of the longest of her life, and she wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone. ]
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[ She lifts a hand to rub at her eyes, feeling run down and wired all at the same time. All of this is confusing and she wishes she could make it easier for him. She could, of course, and she fully realizes that taking herself out of the equation would accomplish that perfectly, but... Love is selfish. ]
You and Angel are two very different people, and I loved you both for different reasons. You're the one who was there for me through so many things, and I just... I'll always love you, even if you don't love me.
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[Because that? That was new. He'd been let into the inner sanctums before because he'd been harmless. If he'd been able to hurt her, he doubted that would have stuck.]
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[ Things are different now, Spike. Good luck adjusting to it all. ]
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[He couldn't really help himself. He wasn't souled, but he'd had that bloody dream. He was still Spike, still the vampire that pushed those little limits he'd been given. His hand raised, as if to tuck her hair behind her ear. Testing.]
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[ She doesn't hesitate to answer, and she doesn't move an inch. If he wants to touch her, he can -- she'll stop him before anything goes too far, but she trusts that that won't happen. Spike has always pressed boundaries and danced around lines drawn in the sand, but there had only ever been once that he'd hurt her unforgivably, and those circumstances aren't going to be repeated here. ]
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What if I wanted a taste?
[Of what was anyone's guess, really. But it was part of that game, part of the spell he felt caught up in just then.]
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I'd let you.
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I didn't say what I wanted a taste of.
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I trust you.
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Maybe I don't trust myself.
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[ Because she's not going to help him with this. It's his decision -- though she knows what she'd like his choice to be. ]
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[He paused, finger curling away from her face, but his hand not lowering.]
You said I did something. Tried to. Tried to hurt you in a monstrous way. You'd still let me- You'd want me to touch you?
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I fell in love with you after that day.
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