Quick to Judge by Sabrina

Spoilers: Post-Get it Done.
Summary: Buffy and Spike share a quiet moment of reflection after the events of 'Get it Done'. B/S PG
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Disclaimer: Don't own them. All praise and glory goes to Joss Whedon, ME, and 20th Century Fox.

Sliding out of the comfortable black leather, Spike inhaled. Decades of cigarette smoke seeped out from the worn leather. In places the leather was so smooth with wear that he wondered that it hadn't disintegrated before his eyes. But no, it wouldn't. He still needed it.

With a small sigh, he folded the duster over one arm and laid it across a box near his cot. He stretched his arms over his head, feeling muscles protest slightly. They'd heal fast enough, probably wouldn't even notice by morning, but it had been too long since he'd been rough and tumble fight guy. He was glad he'd had the duster though. Been easier to act the part with the coat around him: easier to swagger down the sidewalk: easier to let the demon out. Surprisingly hadn't made any difference in his ability to ignore the Principal. The man irritated him and Spike wasn't certain if it was more related to the man or the fact that the man had taken Buffy on a date.

Probably the latter, he concluded, although even as he thought it, he couldn't help but think he was missing something. It didn't matter though; he'd thought getting a soul would make a difference. It'd make him more human, more worthy of her love, no longer would he be an 'evil, soulless thing'. He'd hoped maybe, after everything, her kind words, her request that he stay, her trust in him proved by taking the chip out, that maybe it had made a difference, then she'd let loose with the verbal barrage. Nobody was better at it than she was. Nobody could make him more pissed off-or wound him so deeply.

The coat was a costume. It was everything the demon in him had been. He'd gone back for his duster, searching for that persona he'd had for over a century: the Spike who'd put up walls and nailed railroad spikes through the heads of those who'd tormented William. Maybe he'd never really escaped from the human he'd been after all. His first victims were his only truly vengeful kills-physical murder and torture as payback for months of emotional murder and torture.

Tonight, Buffy's words had hurt. After tonight, he felt tired and weary. Weary of praying for the impossible. Weary of waiting for it to happen.

Didn't she realize that everything he'd done, he had done for her? Would she ever be happy? Didn't like it when he was an 'evil, soulless thing' Didn't like it now that he had a soul and was doing his best to be good. No, wasn't enough, she wanted the evil him back. Her words had raked across his soul, as painful as all the memories his conscience could throw back at him. He stared at the leather duster, feeling the dreary, heavy uncertainties settle back into his soul.

The stairs creaked and Spike could sense Buffy behind him, perched on the top stair, uncertain of whether to join him. He continued staring at the coat, uncertain of whether he even wanted her to join him. There was a long silence as both of them were suspended in their own doubts, until Spike sighed inwardly and deliberately, without turning around, inclined his head in her direction.

The gesture was enough.

'Mind if I come down?'

'It's your house Slayer, you're free to come down. Course you may have to put up with some weeping.' The words hung suspended in mid-air, the silence heavy, and Spike relented, turning around. 'Sorry, pet, didn't mean that the way it sounded,' he shrugged lightly. 'Didn't really mean it at all.'

'It's all right,' she moistened her lips and stepped down the stairs. As she reached the bottom she walked across and sat down on the edge of the cot. After a moment, he sat down on the other end and waited for her to speak again.

She didn't say anything right away and they sat in silence. He could hear potential slayer feet moving around upstairs, probably a muffled attempt to get to the loo without disturbing the other ten people in sleeping bags on the living room floor. One thing he could be thankful for-the demon chased away any roommates.

'Spike, I'm sorry about earlier.'

He watched her as she continued.

'What I said, it was out of line. I was harsh with everyone, but I was especially harsh on you.' She glanced at him. 'I know that this hasn't been easy for you: Any of it I didn't mean to imply that I don't appreciate…' Her voice trailed off. 'I do.'

'Buffy,' he reached over and laid a hand over her smaller one. 'It's all right. You were stressed out, not thinking straight. Next time though,' he raised his eyebrows.' If you've got a complaint, I'd prefer you take it up with me in private stead of airing it out in front of the Scoobies and Teenage Hormone Brigade.'

She swallowed. 'Sounds reasonable.'

There was more silence.

'What'd you find out from the ancient puppets?' He asked finally.

She was silent for so long that he turned to look at her face. Her brow was furrowed and she looked tired and small: So small. Spike couldn't help but remember the night he'd first seen her in the Bronze. He'd had no doubts that she was the Slayer, could smell her lifeblood even through the dozens of people in the place, yet he'd been surprised. The last Slayer he'd faced had been taller, a bit stockier, and this girl was no more than a slip of a thing: Tiny, compact, and deadly.

'I think I may have really messed up, Spike.'

'How so, love?'

She drew a deep breath and her entire body seemed to freeze up. Finally she slid back on the cot until her back was against the concrete walls, looking small and uncertain against the hard, ungiving stone.

'They tried to…' she hesitated and fingered the edging of her sleeve. 'Spike, after defeating Adam… Giles had called on the source of the Slayer's power so that we were able to combine our essence, Giles, Xander, Willow, and me and defeat him. Later, the First Slayer invaded our dreams, angry that I had friends, that I wasn't alone, that I shared the fight with others. It was the first time I ever saw her in my dreams. But before that… I remember Adam in the dream, only he wasn't Adam as you and I knew him, he was what he'd been before-he was human. He implied that I got my strength from a demon-just like him.'

She stopped and Spike waited, his eyes concerned.

'I said I wasn't, I couldn't be. I saw her again last night,' Buffy shrugged. 'I mean, the First Slayer-she was there in my dreams. I saw Chloe crying and the First Slayer attacked me and told me…' she swallowed. 'She told it wasn't enough.'

'What wasn't enough?' Spike questioned, his mind trying to make a picture out of the random lines she kept drawing him.

'I wish I knew. When I went through the portal, the men, they chained me down and they were going to allow some sort of demon essence to overtake me. '

Spike tensed.

'I fought free and broke their staff, and the demon went away, but then they showed me…' her voice caught and she fell quiet.

'Buffy?'

'Spike,' she looked up at him and he could see her eyes filled with moisture. 'The Turok Han nearly killed me. It was ferocious. I could barely take down one of them with my Slayer strength and years of training. The potentials wouldn't have a chance one on one. More than one, and we'd never be able to win. I'm so scared sometimes.'

Spike shifted and reached a hand out to her. 'Buffy.'

'Spike, I'm sorry.'

'It's all right, Buffy.'

'No,' she shook her head. 'No, it's not all right. I was so harsh with you earlier. Told you to bring the demon back, because I needed it. And yet, with the men, they were going to give me more power to fight everything that is coming, but I rejected it because it was demonic in nature. A demon's heart, they said. I rejected it, Spike. And yet I expected you, after everything you've done, after everything I said to you last year, to bring the demon back.'

'Buffy,' he stopped her. 'Stop. Can you hear yourself? It's been tough on you these last few days. Yeah, maybe you were out of line up there, and yeah, it hurt a bit, but the truth is the truth and the truth is, I need to be willing to fight the forces of evil if I encounter them. I'll get over the hurt, it's just one more drop in the bucket of anguish my soul feels most of the time.' He reached out and placed his hand on her arm firmly.

'Of course you would reject the demon, love. It's how you are. And I don't think you were wrong to do so.'

'But what if the First Slayer is right and it's not enough. I'm not enough?'

'Bloody hell, she's right,' Spike scoffed, the once typical sarcasm springing easily to his lips. 'Buffy, you're the most amazing Slayer I've ever known, and that's saying something. You're powerful and you're strong. But your real strength is your connections. After I first fought you, in the high school. I returned home, licking my wounds and complaining to Drusilla about your family and friends. It's why you're still here. It's why you succeed. You don't disconnect yourself from people; love is your gift, Buffy. Maybe that's what the Slayer was trying to tell you in your dream.'

Skepticism was etched across every feature of her face as she turned to face him. 'Spike-'

'No,' he said firmly. 'You get to lecture me, you're gonna listen to what I have to say, turnabout fair play here, love.'

She swallowed and looked away but he knew from her posture she was still listening so he continued.

'You said before the Slayer told you it wasn't enough, you said you saw Chloe crying? Buffy, before tonight, did you even know her name?'

Her shoulders tensed and he could see her defenses rising.

'You didn't, did you? Or you weren't certain of it. Buffy, don't you see? You've got a dozen or more scared girls up there. They need to be trained, they need to be taught, they need to understand the evil that's coming, but more than that, they need to be understood. You were once where they were, and granted you weren't facing the First Evil when you first became a Slayer, but I've no doubt you were facing evil enough. How did you get through it? Was it by training and books and hard days?'

'I can't just give them a boot camp of emotional feel goods, Spike.'

'I know that, love,' he said. 'But you connect to them, they'll want to fight for you: to the death. It's why we're all here. It's why the witch and carpenter boy are here; it's why your sister is here, bloody hell it's why geek boy is here! We believe in you. We believe in what you're fighting against. We're here because there's a battle to be won. We're here because we know you have to fight it. We're here because we believe in you. 'Cause we love you and we love what you've sworn to protect.'

'We know it, all of us. These girls don't know you as anything more than a Slayer. They don't know you as a friend like the rest of us do. They need to be friends with each other and they need to be friends with you. That's what'll keep'm alive. It's what'll balance out the scales and make the life force stronger than their death wish. If they don't have that, then there's not a chance for any of them Buffy, and there may not even be a chance for us.'

He sat back, regarding her quietly. He noted the way her eyes were tired and her skin seemed paler. Her hair was pulled back from her face although wisps had escaped to frame her face. She'd never really regained the weight she'd lost during the year she'd fought Glory, and now her entire being seemed so frail. He leaned forward and cautiously reached over and pushed a hair behind her ear.

'You don't need demon power inside you love. Your strength isn't in the darkness; it's in the light. It's in your heart and your soul and your very being. You don't need demon power,' he repeated. 'I'll have enough demon for the both of us.'

At his words Buffy turned her eyes to meet his. Their eyes caught and she didn't break the gaze. They were silent and finally she reached her hand out to touch his chest. Where his heart would have been beating.

'The demon's heart,' she said finally.

'What?' Spike asked.

'It's what the men told me tonight. What they tried to give me.'

'You've got a demon's heart, love,' Spike said, his voice low. 'You've got mine. You know that.'

The feel of her hand against his cheek startled him and he looked up, catching her eyes again, startled by the warmth in them.

'Spike,' she said quietly. 'I need you here, fighting with me. What I said before, it's because I need you-all of you. I need the demon who's willing to fight to the death whether or not he has a soul and… I need the man who loves me. I didn't say it well. I didn't make myself clear. I've hurt you again, and I never meant to do that.'

He reached up and placed his hand over hers and they sat there for a moment.

'Can you ever forgive me Spike? For all of it? Not just tonight but last year. For all the times I used you and tossed you aside because I didn't know what to do with what you were offering? Didn't know how much I needed it?'

'You've been forgiven for a long time, love,' he said. 'If you'll forgive me, for pushing you when you weren't ready-'

'I forgive you, Spike.'

She touched his face gently, exploring the surface with her fingertips and Spike sat, silent, barely daring to move. Their eyes met and held and as Buffy leaned towards him, Spike met her half way. Their lips met and they sat, arms wrapped around each other, each tasting the other's tears. When Buffy pulled back for breath, she did not move far; but rather leaned against his chest and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

'I need you Spike,' she whispered. 'I need your demon heart. Shall I give you my heart in return?'

'Only if you want to Buffy,' he answered her in a whisper; hardly daring to move for fear that it was all a dream.

'It's beyond want Spike,' she returned. 'I need to. I've been so quick to judge you and so slow learning the lessons you've been trying to teach me. I promise I'll listen more and argue less.'

Afraid for a moment that his soul was going to soar out of his body and all his African based trials would be for naught, Spike gathered her nearer relishing her closeness and holding her as if it would keep his soul within him.

'Lesson the First, pet,' he spoke gently, a humored tone to his voice. 'Kisses should nearly always come in pairs-'

'I'm listening,' she turned and their lips met again as two hearts-one human and one demon-twined to become one.

The End

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