This was my response to a rather infamous David Fury interview during season 5 stating why he thought Buffy and Spike should never be together. I decided to have a go at countering those arguments.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Not mine. 'Nuff said.

She was dancing again, weaving a trail of destruction and dust across the cemetery. But not with him. Never with him.

Spike lit another cigarette and leaned back against the tombstone, watching. Three vamps. One Slayer. No contest. And then it was over, all too soon. Buffy came to a halt, her chest heaving, pivoting rapidly as she looked around for more vampires to kill. But there was nothing. Only him. And he wasn't worth killing, apparently.

He knew the exact moment she spotted him, saw the way her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was frosty.

"I live here."

Buffy folded her arms. "Well, go away."

Spike smiled bitterly then knocked some ash off the end of his cigarette against the tombstone.

"I was here first. You go away."

A pause while she glared at him then she abruptly spun on her heel and began to stalk away. Spike debated for a long moment, then sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

"Buffy," he said clearly, knowing she was still within earshot. "You can't keep running away from this."

"I'm not running away. And there is no 'this'."

"I love you."

She froze, not turning. "You don't know what love is."

"Don't I? You're wrong on that one, Slayer. I know passion and lust, and I know love. And I know the difference between them. Do you?"

This time she did turn back. "Spike--" she began.

He ignored her, taking in a long draught of smoke before looking up and speaking to the night sky, almost as if she wasn't there.

"Passion is fire and heat and now," he said calmly. "But love, real love -- it's forever. It doesn't die, and it doesn't stop. Not ever. It's knowing that you'd give your life in an instant, in a heartbeat, for the one you love. You wouldn't even have to think about it, wouldn't have to weigh the decision, you'd just do it. Love is making sacrifices and not even minding. Love is hurting when they hurt, and feeling good just because they smile. Believe me, I do know what love is."

"You don't love me that way."

"Maybe not. But I think I might be getting there."

He could almost sense the waves of disbelief and outrage coming from the Slayer. Her fists clenched and she took a step toward him.

"You chained me up because you 'loved' me!" she snarled. "That's not love, Spike. It's twisted and perverted and..."

"I never said you don't hurt the one you love. You -- god, now I sound like a bloody country song now. Someone just kill me now."

"Sure. No problem."

"Very Funny. Where was I? Oh yeah - the Buffy bondage. Gotta admit, that was a mistake. But cut me some slack, Slayer. 120 years with Drusilla didn't exactly prepare me for a relationship that didn't involve chains. And torture. Besides..."

She shook her head. "Really, really don't want to hear this..."

He blew a gust of smoke into the night air. "Tough. 'Cause you're condemning me without even hearing my side of things. Which is why I did it, by the way. Think you'd ever have listened to me if I hadn't chained you up?"

"No!"

"You see my point then."

Buffy folded her arms. "No. You don't have a point. You're pointless, Spike -- pun definitely not intended. You're a vampire, I'm the Slayer. You can't be in love with me."

His smile returned, briefly. "Can't use that argument, Slayer. You've been there, done him."

"Angel was different. He has a soul. He's good."

"And I don't so I'm automatically bad, is that it?"

"Yes."

The vampire laughed, short and sharp.

"Hate to break this to you, pet, but there's a log of humans out there with souls who are a hell of a lot more evil than I ever managed to be. Do you even read the newspapers? But hey, let's just keep the serial killers and rapists out of the argument and focus on lover boy for a minute, shall we?"

"No, let's not." She turned again, as if to go, but his next words stopped her.

"Do you know what your boy is up to in L.A. these days? Setting people on fire, walking away while Darla and Dru killed a roomful of lawyers. People that begged him for their lives. And he just walked away."

Buffy stared back at him, shock written on her face.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. Dru told me."

"Yeah, like I'd believe anything Fruitloop, Queen of the Lunatics, has to say."

Spike met her gaze steadily. "Doesn't matter if you believe it or not. It's true."

The Slayer swallowed, once. Hard. "Even...even if it was true...then he must have had a good reason..."

"So it's all right if bad things happen, so long as there's a good reason? God, the Spanish Inquisition would have loved you, Slayer." She shook her head fiercely. "Stop it! You're confusing things..." "Well, let's make it all crystal clear then. Yes, I killed people. For a long time. I bloody enjoyed it and I was good at it. But not as good as Angelus. Yeah, I did a bit of torture in my day but for the most part, I just killed them. Angelus, though, he played with them first. You saw what he did to Dru. Hell, you've been on the receiving end of a little Angelus torment yourself. You know what he was capable of."

"Angelus. Not Angel. Angel has a soul, a conscience." Buffy's voice was stronger now, the momentary doubt he had sensed in it before gone now. "Angel knows the difference between good and evil. You don't."

"I know. I just never cared. 'Til now. 'Til you."

"That's not true! Everything you're doing, everything you think is good, you're just doing because you want to get into my pants!"

"Well, yeah!" He shot her a look. "But does it really matter why I'm doing it? Why I'm changing? So long as I change?"

"Yes it matters! You're...you're like Quasimodo. You have no moral compass, you're just..."

Spike frowned. Where the hell did that come from?

"Quasimodo? OK, one -- I look nothing like him, and two -- what's your problem with him anyway? He gave his life to save the woman he loved. And you object to this because...?"

"Because everything he did, he did expecting to get something in return."

"Right. So the dying to save her was completely selfish and he expected...uh, what exactly? Look, did you even read the book, Summers?"

The Slayer shifted, looking away briefly. "Of course I...that doesn't matter! What matters is that...that Angel felt remorse when he got his soul back and he's been trying to make up for what he did ever since."

"Right. So the fire-setting, lawyer-killing thing just means he's taking the scenic route along the road to redemption? You're such a hypocrite, Summers. You're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt but you won't give me even the smallest crumb. Even though I'm the one who's saved you how many times, who's helped you out and..."

"For money," she said accusingly.

"Sure," Spike said agreeably. "To start with."

"And to impress me. And because that chip doesn't give you any choice."

Another drag on the cigarette. "Fair enough. Call it an artificial soul then, if you like. Same result. If the end is good, why quibble about the means?"

"Because if you ever got the chip out, you'd go right back to your old ways. Same old evil Spike."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You don't know that. Hell, I don't even know what I'd do. And we're not gonna find out until I get this bleeding thing out of my head. But you know what, Slayer? If it was anyone else you'd be open to the possibility that this change just might be real. Permanent, even."

Buffy's fists tightened again. "It isn't real. You're a demon. It's not in your nature."

"So Anyanka is what...just biding her time?"

"Huh?"

"Anya. Vengeance demon. Remember her? You lot don't seem to have a problem with her, even though she's got about 900 years on me when it comes to the wreaking havoc category. And she doesn't show a hell of a lot of remorse, does she? What, did you think her thousand years of vengeance involved nothing worse than a few boils on blokes' naughtier bits? Hey, I've met some vengeance demons. Believe me, baby, they leave us vampires in the shade. We're small potatoes, compared to them."

"I..." He took advantage of her momentary confusion. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, Slayer? So, let's just recap, shall we? Angel, the same Angel who's currently having fun playing with matches and taking Shakespeare way too seriously..."

"Shakespeare?"

"'Kill all the lawyers'. Anyway, Angel has a 'Get Out of Buffy's Bad Books Free' card because he's got a soul and feels all sad and droopy -- at least some of the time -- about the nasty things he's done. Meanwhile, Anya gets to be one of the Scoobies because...why? Because she's all cute and harmless now? Well, in case you haven't been paying attention, I'm pretty harmless too. Maybe I'm just being thick, but I really don't see the difference."

Buffy glared at him. "Anya is mortal now. She has a soul."

"Back to that, are we? OK. We've already agreed that having a soul doesn't necessarily make you good..."

"Yes, but not having a soul definitely makes you bad!"

"And I can't try to be more than I am? I get no shot at redemption, no second chance...?" Spike carefully kept his voice flat, calm. Reasonable.

Buffy sighed, some of her anger seeming to melt away.

"But you don't want redemption," she said softly. "Not really. You're not sorry for anything you've done, are you Spike? You're only behaving differently because you think you're in love with me, and because of that chip. But deep down, you don't feel any remorse, no real interest in redemption. Come on. Admit it."

Spike paused, a flicker of annoyance going through him. This conversation wasn't going the way he had planned. He had thought he would be countering all her arguments. Instead, it was the other way round. And this one...there wasn't a lot he could say in response, was there? Except maybe the truth. Even though it wasn't going to help him. Sod it. The vampire sighed then dropped the cigarette, grinding it to ash beneath his foot.

"You're right," he said at last, meeting her gaze. "I don't stay up days thinking about all the people I've killed, wishing things were different. I'm not sorry and I don't care."

Was that sadness in her eyes? A faint current of...what? Regret?...in her voice?

"And that's why I could never love you," the Slayer replied quietly. That's why I can't even give you the crumb you asked for. Because there can never be anything between us. Not ever."

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "What if I did care? Hypothetically speaking, that is?"

She bit her lip. "I...I don't know. Maybe. Who knows? But it's never going to happen so what's the point in even thinking about it?"

"But what if I keep on the way I am? What if I hang around you lot long enough and all your bloody morals and ethics start rubbing off on me? Or this chip finally drives me round the bleeding bend and I really do start to care?"

There was a long silence, as if she were weighing her response. If he had needed to breathe, Spike would have been holding his breath.

Finally, Buffy spoke. "Then...then maybe that day we'll talk. Maybe that day I would even think about it. But face it, Spike, it's just not going to happen. Because I think...I think I just figured out what a soul is for."

He laughed again, the bitterness back in his voice. "To make you feel guilty. Nice."

"No. To make you care. To feel for other people. Not just the people you love or know. But the nameless people you pass on the street, the people you've never seen before and will never see again. It's knowing that they have lives, hopes, dreams, sorrows, and that they're just as important as you are. Maybe more. To know that they're not just lunch and that killing them is wrong. Not because that chip won't let you, or because you know I wouldn't like it. But because it's wrong."

Spike's hands went to his pocket, curling around another cigarette, but he didn't bother to light it. Instead, he stared back at her through the darkness, frustration and unhappiness warring within him.

"So that's it then? Lesson over?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. You ever start feeling sorry, Spike, maybe then...then we'll talk. Until then..."

"I know. 'Stay out of my life, get off the planet, blah- bloody-blah.'"

She gave him a long, slow look then turned and began to walk away, not looking back. "Goodbye."

"Slayer...?"

She paused briefly. "What?"

"I...I don't know if that's ever going to happen. Right now, I'd say there's not a chance in hell. But what were the odds I'd fall in love with the Slayer in the first place? Who'd have thought I'd be helping people rather than eating them. Me. Spike. William the Bloody. All I know is...things change."

"Yeah," she said emotionlessly to the empty air in front of her. "But do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Goodbye, Spike."

"See you around, Slayer."