He'd dreamed of killing her - the ever-present fantasy of his waking hours. Lots of different ways danced in his mind.

Dancing. It's all they'd ever done. That was before the Soul of course, or so he told himself. Perhaps Angelus had it right after all. "To kill this girl you have to love her."

God help him, he did.

Spike felt her fingers entwine with his, gazed at the fiery light engulfing them.

Pure love.

But whose?

Both?

That would surely be the end of her.

Hers?

Best deny the truth in her words and set her free.

October 2006