AUTHOR: Ragna (Obsessive-Compulsive Spike)
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just keep my name on it and let me know.
ARCHIVED AT: Welcome to Hellmouth Fan-Fiction
DISCLAIMER: I own only the plot and the characters not on BtVS. Everything else is Joss Whedon's and Mutant Enemy's.
FEEDBACK: Y'all know I thrive on it!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part 3, Spike's part.
"Sometimes I wonder what she bloody well sees in me."
"It's not like I'm human, love."
"True. Any other reasons?"
"I'm not like that wanker Angel."
"I suppose that's a good thing."
"Well, I can't say. Doctor-patient privileges."
"But you told her what he said about her."
"I'll concede to that. She has feelings for you. It's best, however, if she tells you what they are. But how do you feel? About her?"
"Very well. I suppose I should tell you."
All right, I admit it. I'm head over heels in love with the Slayer. Pathetic, isn't it? She's such a sweet girl, when she's not brassed off. And when we're alone, that's the only time I wish I was human. The only time.
Why? Because, I don't think it's fair. I'm a demon, love. A cold, heartless, soulless demon.And she deserves better. But, when I'm with her, I change. I'm a bit closer to being human, a bit less like myself. And I like that change. The night I kissed her, I don't know what the bloody hell got into me. I'd thought about her constantly since I first came to Sunnydale, and especially when Angel was flaunting Dru around in front of me. I thought that torturing him, making him suffer, would be the best thing I ever did. Not by a longshot.
That deal with Buffy, that killed any chance I had of getting back with Dru. And you know what? Now, I wouldn't take the manipulative bitch back if she begged me to. I truly adore and respect Buffy, I do. She's almost a perfect match. If I had a soul, I'd say we're soul mates. And I won't let anything happen to her. So long as I exist on this earth.
And I'll never, ever be like him. Never. I love her too much to do that to her. And if he, or anyone else, tries to tear us apart, I'll hunt them down, torture them, and make them wish the thought had never crossed their mind. Okay, that does sound a bit possessive. I know. But...I need her. I don't own her, I never will, but I do need her. Is that so hard to understand?