chapel2

He sat down on the bed and took her hand in his. "Beloved, I know what forever is. I have lived more years than you can comprehend. I have loved and lost many women and lived dozens of lives. "He looked at her sadly. "You can't love me. I won't let you. To love a vampire is to barter a piece of your soul."

"I already love a vampire," she said as she pulled away. "He would do anything to protect me. He would die for my sister and nearly did. "

He looked away. "Spike has the heart of a romantic," he said. "I don't. I have the heart of a madman."

"That's why you helped me and helped Tara? That's why you live here with people instead of plotting to kill them all? Because you're so evil?" she said mockingly.

"I'm a demon," he said harshly. "I am evil, Dawn. You're the Slayer's sister; you should know what that means."

"You love me," she said vehemently. "I love you. That's all that matters." She ran her hand through his long black hair. He leaned forward, so very drawn to her, but stopped.

"You don't know enough of life to know what you'd give up if you loved me." He looked at her. "You need to go, live your life, grow, and learn."

"But I want you," she said as she began to cry. "I feel like you are part of me. I feel whole when I'm with you."

"Never forget that I love you," he said softly, "just try to understand why I have to let you go." He kissed her gently on the forehead and left.

Giles walked Anya back to her room. "That was really fun," she said. "I like getting out on the dance floor and going where the music takes me."

He smiled at her. "I could tell by your ever-present grin that you were having a good time. It was nearly worth listening to that tiresome din."

"What's your idea of a good time?" asked Anya curiously.

"I like to listen to music, browse in bookstores, drink really good Scotch," he said matter-of-factly.

"That sounds very boring and stuffy, Giles," she said. "I don't think that's really you at all. Or at least not all there is of you."

He looked away. "I don't know what you mean."

"We had sex, remember? You were amazing, unbelievable in fact. I felt your fire and passion, "she said vehemently. "It's all there under the surface. But you're afraid to let it go."

He took off his glasses and polished them on his sleeve. "That was just a spell. It had nothing to do with real life."

She raised her chin and looked at him with confidence. "You told me that you'd wanted me for a long time."

They stopped outside her door. "And I understand how wrong that is," he said.

"Why is it wrong?" she said curiously.

"You were my student, and then my employee. Not to mention you were with another man," he said.

"None of those things apply now. Do you want to come in?" She opened the door.

"You've been drinking, and I know that you are still grieving. It just wouldn't be right," he explained.

Pain washed over her features. "You don't have to make up excuses." She turned away.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Anya, I want you so badly," he said nakedly. She looked at him, stunned. "You're one of the reasons that I left Sunnydale. I couldn't stand to see you every day, feeling the way that I do."

She stared in his eyes, and she saw passion there, and desire, and something deeper. "Do you respect me?" she asked.

"Of course I respect you," he said affectionately. "There are so many things about you that I admire. Your verve, and your candor, and your wit..." He broke off his litany as she pressed her lips to his. She pulled him into her suite and kicked the door behind her.