TITLE: A Man Can Change 
AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue 
WARNING: Season 6 Spoilers 
RATING: R for Adult Situations & Language 
DISCLAIMER: Spike, Buffy & all characters from BtVS are the property 
of Joss & Company. They among so many others I wished I owned, but 
alas my wishes are for naught. 
SUMMARY: As if you didn't see that coming LOL ;D 
ARCHIVE: YES! Just let me know :D 
MY SITE: http://www.geocities.com/rose_liz2001/Dark_Fantasies.html 

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A Man Can Change 
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Bloody hell anyway. 
If any man or vamp alike would have told me a year ago that 
I would be shagging the Slayer I would have cursed him for a 
buggering snot demon. 
I hated the feelings that I started having (I am a bloody 
vampire!!!) after the Initiative drilled my brain. That bloody 
bastard Riley and his cronies if only they knew what they 
succeeded in doing. Neutering, a vampire. 
Wonder what Riley would say if he could see his precious Buffy 
now? 
Her leather skirt up around her waist. Her panties lost some 
place upstairs amidst the rubble of our combined destructive 
natures. 
Didn't know a Slayer could ride that well? 
Oh, and let's not forget Angel, my grand sire. 
That's a totally different can of worms. 
I suppose given the nature of my current situation I should 
count my bloody blessings, but then again Buffy seems to 
be in a constant state of denial. 
On one hand you can't blame the poor girl, she was yanked 
out of whatever passes for heaven for these do gooder 
types. The fact she was left to dig her way out of her own 
grave by those wanker friends of hers doesn't do much 
for what twisted brain she has left. 
Then there's me. 
William the Bloody. 
Scourge of Europe. 
Spike as of late and not to mention a fangless wonder. 
Bugger me anyway. 
That was until me and the old Buffinator had a falling 
out of sorts. 
She was the one who finally kissed me. Not just once 
mind you, but twice. Then in typical Buffy denial mode 
she wants to claim she was emotionally shattered by the 
departure of Giles her ex-Watcher, father figure, annoying 
excuse for a Brit! 
The gall!! 
She landed a punch smack in the middle of my face, getting 
a return punch in hers. Instead of the pain I expected there 
was nothing, not a bloody twitch. 
The demon so long denied was ready to go on a binge 
of violence that would put anything that bugger 
Angelus did to shame. The excitement rose in me 
at the idea of a fresh kill for a change instead of a 
rat or a kitten. 
Human blood. 
What a sodden joke that was! 
Didn't occur to me that it wasn't the bloody chip, but 
the Slayer herself. I discovered in the most painful 
way that the Slayer wasn't human any longer or at 
least she wasn't this dimensions idea of human. Being 
raised from the dead had buggered her up. You would 
think her wanker gang would have learned not to mess 
with Mother Nature, but grief does odd things to humans. 
I know it had turned me into a pathetic mewling kitten 
of my former glory. 
I loved Buffy Summers. 
That had been my anthem for over a year and now here 
was my chance to pull her out. My chance to prove that 
neither of us were right. 
Not alive. 
Not dead. 
Maybe I was a demon, but I still remembered what it 
was to human, to love and be loved. I had loved my 
sire Dru, damn her nonexistent soul. Hell, I'd even loved 
my grand sire Angelus when he was more than a 
sniveling pathetic demon trapped with a human soul 
doing the work of good. 
Talk about the ultimate joke. 
So here I am having taken the beating of my undead life 
from the bloody Slayer. Who is now panting like a bitch 
in heat after riding me through a few walls not to mention 
the floor. Above us dust is still sifting from the shattered 
wood slats of the floor. 
With the sound of her breathing in my ears I rummage 
through my coat pocket looking for a fag just to calm 
my nerves. 
"Mmmm,...Angel," I hear her sigh. 
"Bloody Hell!!" I grump just as my fingers curl around 
the crushed pack in my pocket. 
Even when he isn't here he gets credit. 
"Wakey, wakey Slayer girl," I elbow her in the ribs. 
Buffy rolls over blinks those big sexy eyes, then 
realizes who she's sitting next too. 
"Wha?! Who?!" she almost has me convinced, but not 
quite. 
A laugh gurgles up in my throat as I tuck myself back 
into my jeans while she scurries to pull her skirt 
down over that sweet ass. Glaring at me she tries to 
stand only to trip over a chunk of plaster landing on 
her knees with a grunt. 
"Bastard," she hisses through clenched teeth. 
My laugh stops dead as I think of her words last night 
when I tried to make her understand for the six millionth 
time that I loved her. 
"A man can always change," I tried to tell her. 
The anger I saw in her eyes wasn't because of me. She 
was angry with herself with what she had done. It wasn't 
because it was me she kissed or that she had even done 
it. It was because she didn't know why. 
Why she had done it. 
Why she felt empty. 
Why she was angry. 
"Your not a man! You'll never be a man!" 
Her words had slid a knife into my unbeating heart. 
"Settle down girl," I bring the lighter to the tip of the 
fag, studying the flicker of it's flame as I inhale. The 
smoke burns my eyes as I flip my lighter shut. 
"Settle down? SETTLE DOWN?!!" Her voice is a high 
pitched wail. 
"Drag?" I offer. 
Her brow knits as she studies my face, searching for 
some great truth I imagine. I take another drag, this 
time French style and lean back against the wall 
returning the stare. 
"Give me the damn cigarette!" 
Now it's my turn to look surprised. 
She takes it between her thumb and forefinger bringing 
it to those pouty lips. Inhaling she smiles at me with a 
look of pure evil. Now I'm wondering if Ms. Whitebread 
has more skeletons in her closet than I know. 
"So Spike?" 
"So?" 
I take the butt from her as she adjusts her blouse. 
"What do we do now?" Her brow raises. 
"Back to bloody denial I suppose." 
"That's a thought." 
I stand stomping my feet as if I'm warming myself. Then 
look down at Buffy Summers wondering what the next 
move will be. 
"Bugger me if I know! Your the one that started this!" 
"Me?" Her brow raises higher. 
"Okay," I begin pacing, "...we need to face up to reality. 
Tell your friends that we've,...well,...we've," I've lost 
the ability to think as well as speak. 
"We've shagged? That is what you call it,...right?" 
"Yea,...well," I can't seem to look her in the eye. I swear 
if a vampire could blush I would be scarlet right now. 
"You said it yourself Spike," her eyes lock me down. 
"What?!" I take another drag. 
"You said a man can change." 
Bloody hell, but I feel as if I've just been buggered. 

THE END