Spike lay on the grass beside Joyce's grave, just looking up at the stars. There was something comforting about this spot, sometimes talking to her, sometimes not. He didn't feel that he was being stupid or sentimental or anything like that, talking to a dead person. He was dead himself (in a way), so he figured that somewhere, Joyce might be able to hear him. And she was a good listener. She would even treat him decent when she was alive.

Spike felt something special for Joyce. It wasn't just an 'I want to shag your daughter so I'll get on your good side' sort of thing either. She was a nice lady, and even when he wasn't all chipped up he had had no desire to hurt her. Not even when Buffy was at her best at pissing him off and ruining his unlife.

Which was what she was doing recently. Not really pissing him off, because he enjoyed it when they fought, but he hadn't even been able to see her in the past weeks. The only time she was out at night was when she was patrolling, and he knew better than to run into her then. He still trailed her, but at a very safe distance, so he couldn't even get close enough to get a good look at her. This, and the fact that it looked like she would never give him that reinvite, all led up to a very frustrated and depressed Spike, and he'd gone to Joyce's grave to get some of it off his chest.

He lay there for a while, just organising his thoughts, totally unaware that he was being watched. "You know," he began, "life isn't fair. Look at us, Joyce. We're both dead, but you're not here any more. I am. Where's the bloody sense in all of it? But I reckon that you're probably happier where you are than I am down here. Your sodding daughter is ruining my life. I love her with everything that I am, and it's killing me. I never knew anything could hurt this much. Not even Dru leavin' me hurt this much. It's tearing me apart that she won't let me see her."

Spike paused for a moment before continuing. "She doesn't think I'm capable of being in love, you know. Just because I don't have a bleedin' soul like my ponce of a sire. She thinks that what I feel for her is just some sick obsession, and I reckon it scares her a bit. But I'm telling you Joyce, I know what love feels like. This is more than obsession. I love her more than I could if I had a soul. She fills the parts of me that losing my soul left empty. You can't call that obsession. She's a part of me now.

"I think I actually worked out why I'm in love with her. Took me the longest time, you know. I reckon it's because she's everything I lost when I was turned. She's everything I thought I didn't want, and now I've found out that she's everything that I really need." Spike laughed at himself. "How stupid does that sound? I guess we're the perfect example of that whole 'opposites attract' theory. Well, I am, anyway. She bloody hates my guts. Only reason she hasn't staked me yet is that she's too good of a person. She lets her heart rule her decisions. And that's something that I love about her. She won't stake me because I can't hurt people at the moment, but she forgets about all the people I've killed in the past. Surely she should just stake me for all them and bloody well get it over with. God knows I'd deserve it. She should put me out of my damn misery."

Spike fell silent for a few minutes, thinking. "You know, I haven't told anyone this, and I won't, but for some reason it just seems right that I should tell you. You remember that chip those soldier boys put in my head? Well, I reckon that it's passed it's warranty or somethin'. Cause when Buffy pulled that deinvite spell on me, I got so damn depressed that I went out and got totally smashed. And let me tell you, for a vampire, that's an achievement. Takes an awful lot of booze. Anyhow, some guy was really giving me the shits for some reason. So I just walked up to him and clocked him one, right in the nose. Hell, I figured the pain I got in my head would at least take my mind off my non-existent love life. But nothing happened. Well, I broke the fella's nose, but other than that, nothing. Sobered me up straight away, a shock like that. Not getting any pain, and that."

Spike turned his head so he was looking at the grave. "Now, I know what you're thinking luv, and it's not like that. I still haven't killed anyone. I don't want to. And it's not just that the Slayer would stake me good and proper, neither. I haven't killed a human for about two years now, and I'm not really missing it all that much. Last time I fed on a human was when Dru came back for me, and I was actually sick afterwards. Can you imagine that?" Spike looked up toward the stars again. "Me, the big bad, retching my guts out after biting someone. Come on, that's just sad.

"I'm pathetic, Joyce. And I can see myself for it. I'm not a complete idiot. I'm meant to be this big bad evil master vampire, and I'm depressed because the slayer and her bloody scoobies don't want anything to do with me. And I don't even have a leash on any more. I should be out racking up my kills, making up for lost time, being the big bad again an' all that. Reaffirming myself in the demon world, you know? And what am I doing? I'm sitting here whining to the slayer's mother that I don't have any bloody friends.

"I hate what I've become, but I hate what I was. There's no middle ground for me. It's either being the big bad, or trailing after the slayer like the love-sick puppy I must look like. No wonder they all laugh at me. I know I can never go back to being what I was, and I don't want to. Even when I was the bad guy I never really tried that hard. I bloody helped Buffy save the world from Angelus. Well, sort of. All I did was get Dru out of the way so she could deal with Angelus. But that's something, right? I mean, I didn't even bloody like Buffy at that stage.

"I do now, I really, really do, but she trusts me even less than she did then. She'll never trust me, and she'll never love me. I know that. I just wish I didn't. Do you know what it feels like to know that the one person you love in the entire world, hates you with an unbelievable passion and thinks that you're the scum of the earth? It's the worst bloody feeling I've ever had. It make me hate myself, and I can understand why she hates me.

"I'd go and try and get my soul back if I thought it would do any good. I don't think I need it any more. I'm willing to be one of the bleedin' good guys now, even without that sodding chip, and even if I know that Buffy will never want me. What else would a soul do for me? Make me angst-guy by making me feel guilty for what I've done over the past two hundred years? Well, bloody newsflash. I already feel bad. I've seen first hand now what losing someone close to you does to someone, and I don't want to be the cause of that any more.

"Oh bloody hell! I'm sorry Joyce, but I'm getting even more pathetic than my bleedin' sire. I have to stop this. I can't do it any more. I can't live between two worlds and pretend that everything is okay, when I don't have a sodding thing to live for. Sure, I love Buffy, with everything I have and more besides, but that's not enough. It's too hard to have her hate me. I have to get out of this somehow."

A sudden thought occurred to Spike as he realised that it was close to sunrise. He fell silent and considered the idea he'd just come up with. It wasn't exactly a good plan, but he felt it was better than being the pathetic wretch he'd become. "Joyce," he began, "Do you think, maybe, if I let myself die, it might be good enough to get me to where you are? I know I'm definitely no saint, but if I kill myself, I'll kill the demon in me. Surely renouncing myself is good enough to maybe keep me out of hell? I mean, I'd survive hell, cause I'm a bloody demon, but I'd rather be able to talk to you some more."

Spike sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer, and he looked over to the east where the sky was just beginning to lighten. 'Maybe I'll find out in a minute,' he thought to himself. 'Just a few minutes.' Spike lay with his eyes shut, remembering some of the more enjoyable things in his unlife. Most of them involved the slayer in some way. Spying on her, fighting with her, and that one day when he'd been allowed to kiss her and hold her in his arms. 'Red's spell was the best thing that lot ever did for me,' he thought with a smirk. 'Pity I didn't enjoy it more when I had the chance.'

Spike opened his eyes to see the sun rising, and sat up to take one last look around him. He might miss this world, but even hell would be better than the torment of his current existence. He lay down again, cushioned his head with his arms, closed his eyes, and let the sunlight wash over him.