"Angelus told me all about how pathetic you people were, but this takes the fucking cake. You were just screwed over by Mr. Soulful, why the hell are you even bothering?"

Spike has been yelling and mocking for the better part of two hours. Basically since he woke up. Giles scowls, but doesn't raise his head. Willow glances up nervously over Jenny's old notes.

Xander glares at the bleached punk in the book cage. "There's a good question. Why are we bothering with this? I'm not really seeing any humanity, here."

Buffy flips listlessly through the pages. "Let's just be sure."

"What, humanity until proven soulless? That's how we're playing it now?"

"Xander, please. This is a special circumstance. Drusilla's insanity and her sight may have led to some interesting unintended consequences. If other vampires noticed something off about Spike, he may well be different because of vestigial humanity. He's always demonstrated unusual loyalty and affection for a vampire throughout history, as it is. Fascinating, to think the reason may be attributed to a vampire skewing the turning process…"

"Yeah, fascinating. What are we supposed to do with him if we figure out he does have some humanity left?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Giles' eyes are lit with scholarly fervor.

Buffy looks over to the book cage again. Spike is sitting on the floor directly behind the cage door, head in his hands. Buffy frowns.

Oz brought some blood bags from the butcher but Spike's been refusing them all day. Buffy grabs another one out of the cooler. She approaches the door. Spike's head snaps up. His eyes are red.

"Back up." Buffy orders. He flips her off in that British-y way Giles had to explain.

Buffy opens the door and kicks him back, dropping the blood bag on the ground, then retreating again.

Ignoring the blood, Spike throws himself at the door as if he expects to crash through.

The cage holds.

"Arghhh!" Spike screams in fury. "Let me out, you bitch! Fight me or kill me! Don't drag this out, keeping me prisoner! I wouldn't do that to you! I've always been fucking straight forward with you, Slayer. Warrior to goddamned warrior." Spike weaves his fingers through the grated cage door and shakes it furiously, snarling.

Willow's eyes are big at new research table. Next to her, Oz remarks to the ceiling, "Different study atmosphere than usual."

Buffy frowns at Spike. "I'm not doing anything until Giles has his answer. Now drink the blood or starve." She returns to the table.

The cage rattles loudly as Spike continues to ram into it.

"Where are we at on this guys?" Buffy asks the table.

Giles taps his mouth. "Well, Jenny's notes are incomplete, but it seems possible that we could use her ideas on the Orb of Thesulah to get a visual representation of the nature of Spike's…nature."

Willow nods, emphatically. "We can get our hands on a crystal ball and apply the same ritual, it should show like, light and dark. Demon vs. humanity, you know?"

Buffy crosses her arms protectively around her stomach. "Okay. Let's do it."

"Jenny. That wouldn't happen to be that gypsy girl Angelus did in, would it?" Spike's voice sneers at them.

Giles stiffens and Buffy glares over at the vampire. He's leaning against the back wall, hefting the blood bag in one hand but making no move to drink.

"What of it?" Giles asks through gritted teeth. Willow shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Buffy has a bad feeling about this. Spike's got a crazy light in his eyes.

"Well, I was just wondering if you knew the whole story behind her kill. Angelus likes to leave elaborate little scenes for people to find, but I'm sure he didn't get a chance to tell you what he told me."

Paper rips in Giles' hands from how tightly he's holding it. "What did that bastard tell you." Giles' voice is dangerously soft.

Buffy looks between Giles and Spike. Realization dawns. Spike's been trying to get them to kill him since he saw Drusilla die and Angelus dusted. "Giles, stop, he's just trying to provoke you—"

"He laid her in your bed, didn't he? Fixed her limbs nicely for you. Fixed her nicely for him as well. Hope you threw out those sheets—"

Giles roars in fury and grabs a stake, charging the cage. Buffy catches Giles and drags him back. "No, Giles! Wait! Wait 'til we've proven he has no humanity. He's just trying to make us mad—"

"Well, he bloody well has!" Giles shouts, straining against Buffy's hold. Oz comes up to Giles' other side. Giles, fuming, allows himself to be led out of the library by the quiet musician.

"I hope you're happy now." Xander says, giving Spike a filthy look.

Spike lobs the blood bag at Xander through the cage. The bag explodes, splattering blood across the cage door, library floor and Xander's face.

By evening, the library is clean again and everyone has calmed down. Spike has even ceased trying to piss them off. He's sprawled out quietly on the floor, staring at the cage ceiling.

Willow chants softly under her breath. Oz waves some kind of stinky herbs over a crystal ball.

A sample of Spike's blood, gleefully taken by Giles, pools in a small ceramic bowl in the center of the table.

Buffy watches as the crystal ball flickers, opaque surface shimmering, light and dark slowly clouding inside.

Dark, veiny purple smoke shot through with wide streaks of bright glowing light.

It's not half and half, but it's pretty damn close.

"Wow," Willow breathes. "Does this mean he's half human and half demon? Wait…"

"All vampires are half human and half demon," Giles interrupts briskly. "Do it again, this time with the blood sample from the fledgling Buffy extracted earlier this evening."

Spike doesn't turn his head towards them once during the proceedings.

Willow repeats the ritual with the random vampire's blood. The crystal ball turns black with dark purple and lighter gray swirls. There's no light to be seen.

"Huh." Oz says, response not matching the severity of the situation, as usual.

Discussion breaks out around the table. Buffy stares at Spike. He's turned his back to the library.

"We'll need more examples from other vampires, of course." Giles is saying.

"Maybe not tonight," Oz says. Willow's nose is trickling blood.

"Oh, my dear. I'll do the ritual the next few times." Giles offers apologetically.

"Do we even need to?" Willow asks faintly.

Giles frowns. "It's better to have more comparisons. I'm uncomfortable coming to any conclusions from two tests alone."

Xander shakes his head. "But it looks like he really does have humanity. And he's evil! Or, he does evil."

Giles stares coolly at Spike's still figure. "Even humanity can be evil. The world is full of humans who commit heinous acts every day. Just because Spike is different from other vampires doesn't mean he's good."

Giles disappears to find more books while Oz and Xander lead Willow to Giles' office to blot her bloody nose and get her to drink some water.

Buffy approaches the cage.

"Spike, did you hear that?"

He doesn't answer.

"It looks like Drusilla really did turn you wrong." Buffy might as well be talking to a brick wall. "Have you ever wondered if you were different from other vampires? I mean, could you tell—"

"Where is she?" Spike interrupts, voice quiet and even.

"…you mean, Drusilla? We buried her in Restfield Cemetery."

Spike turns his head to face Buffy. His blue eyes, normally dancing in some kind of fiendish glee, are dark and flat. "You buried her."

"Yes."

"I want to see her."

Buffy stares hard at Spike, and comes to a split decision, remembering his apparently very real anguish at Drusilla's sacrifice.

"I'll take you to her."

Buffy leads Spike to the gravesite. Her once formidable mortal enemy staggers along beside her, grief and starvation dragging heavily on his limbs. He barely seems aware of Buffy, other than as the guide he needs to get to where he's going. Spike's hollowed eyes are fixed on some unreachable point ahead.

Buffy has seen the same thousand yard stare in the mirror every day since her seventeenth birthday. She gets it. She gets him. That's why she's doing this. If Angel…if he had a body left to put in a grave, Buffy would want to visit it, too.

Slayer and vampire arrive at Drusilla's unmarked grave. Buffy stops a few feet back. Spike stumbles forward to drop to his knees on top of the freshly turned soil. Bits of grass and vegetation have curled up out of the loamy earth. Spike sinks his fingers into the dirt and slowly leans forward until his forehead touches his knees. A rattling moan draws out of him, like it's being pulled out on a string.

Buffy's heard that sound before. Raw and muffled by her own pillow. She never thought she'd share anything with Spike, but his grief is like her own. It takes him over.

Spike remains kneeled like that for a few long minutes. A cool spring breeze lifts the hair off the back of Buffy's neck. It smells like new plants and life and possibilities. Buffy's chest feels like a gutted gourd, all the soft innards pulled out. How dare this place smell like life when all around her is death? Her childhood, her innocence, her love. Dead of night, dead resting beneath a blanket of earth, dead man crying on his dead lover's grave. Life has no place here.

Buffy watches Spike's fingers form into claws and rip the sprouting green from the surface soil. He rips and tosses and shovels down, handful by handful. His movements are slow, stilted, almost mechanical. Buffy thinks of the old carnival fortune teller game with the gypsy and her frozen painted expression, bobbing and jerking and moving her hand over the tarot cards. Buffy wonders what answer Spike hopes to find by digging.

He digs and he digs.

At one point, the soil on the sides of the grave begins to sift back into him and the shallow furrow he's carved out. The loose dirt weighs down on the tail of his duster.

A strangled cry escapes from behind his clenched teeth.

Spike wrestles off his leather coat and tosses it carelessly to the side.

He digs on.

So engrossed in watching him work, Buffy doesn't even notice Willow has joined her until the quiet girl makes an unhappy noise in the back of her throat.

"Should we stop him?" Willow whispers.

Buffy shakes her head 'no.'

Willow settles in beside Buffy and they continue their vigil.

Spike is kneeling in the dirt hole at nearly three feet in depth when Xander and Oz find them.

Xander is unusually speechless as he and Oz join the girls, forming an unintentional wall behind the vampire burrowing his way to the body below.

"We thought he escaped," Oz says.

"No." Buffy says.

Spike drags his fingers through the wetter deeper earth and marks out the width and length of the area with an artist's precision. His chest is heaving with short, deep, unnecessary breaths.

Giles arrives, panting, at Buffy's shoulder. "What in the world are you all—" he cuts himself off, seeing Spike's handiwork.

"Oh, Buffy," her Watcher murmurs, though Buffy's not sure why. She's not a part of this. She just wants to observe. No, not want. But there's closure here somewhere. Maybe enough for Buffy, too.

Spike makes a choked noise as his seeking hands reach flesh. The scooping motions become gentle brushing sweeps. Slowly, Drusilla is revealed. Her white lace covered shoulder. Her pale neck. Her dark, matted hair.

Buffy shuffles to the side to see better so when Spike cries out again she can see his accompanying tears.

Spike shushes and soothes and brushes dirt off of Drusilla like she's the one upset. He unearths most of her still body and removes dirt until the burnt out sockets of Drusilla's eyes become clear.

Spike, kneeling at his sire's side, wraps his arms around his stomach and tips his head against her chest.

A stronger breeze blows by, carrying the sounds of bare branches rustling together in the trees. A deep-voiced hound bays in the distance.

Spike slides down to lay beside Drusilla in the grave and enfolds her in his dirt-streaked arms. He tucks his face into the crook of the frail vampire's neck, nosing under her jaw. Spike goes still beside her so that they look like two inanimate corpses instead of just the one.

In the moonlight, the black of the churned earth mixes in with Drusilla's dark hair and Spike's all black clothes. Her white dress, Spike's white-blond hair, and their vampiric skin blends together so that the end-effect is like studying a black and white photo.

Buffy wonders if he means to be buried with Drusilla. Giles puts a hand on her shoulder. She looks up into her Watcher's weathered, lined face and sees sympathy there. He pulls out a handkerchief and gives it to her. Buffy realizes that her cheeks are wet with tears.

The ritual was right. Angelus had been right. For a vampire, Spike's been made wrong. Spike is filled with humanity. His grief and love and devotion are clear to see. Giles thought Spike's humanity would be twisted and dark. But here it is, and it's so human and relatable and pure that Buffy knows she can't sentence him to dust.

Buffy failed Angel utterly. She'd ruined him. Ripped his humanity right out of his body until all that remained was a perversion of nature. And she did it with love.

But Spike…Buffy hates Spike. She hates him for complicating her life. Her inner Slayer hates his very existence, knowing innocent lives have ended at his hands.

Buffy watches without expression as Spike curls up closer to the burnt out husk of a woman beside him. He cradles Drusilla to him and murmurs lovingly into her throat.

Spike is a soulless murdering demon, but he's also shot through with wide streaks of humanity.

Buffy's thoughts circle around and around. Stake him like he wants and put him out of his misery and also out of commission? She probably should.

Her gut tells her differently. Death is too easy for the likes of Spike and Buffy. Just because the loves of their lives are gone forever doesn't mean they get a free pass on existence. If Buffy can't put down her load and give up than neither can Spike.

Buffy's heart cracks open and floods her body with emotion. After feeling dead for so long, the sensation is painful, like pins and needles signaling revived limbs.

Buffy's going to help Spike. She's going to rekindle his humanity if she has to drag him there kicking and screaming. Buffy couldn't save Angel's humanity, but maybe she can save Spike's.

Maybe that isn't the mission but her calling has done nothing but screw her over. Buffy's done. She quits.

Buffy's failed at quitting the slay-gig before, but it will be different this time. Someone will be Chosen to replace Kendra. And the draw to demons Buffy can't escape from will be assuaged by serving her penance with Spike. So he's all hers. Buffy's gonna save Spike, even it kills them both.

"Sun's gonna be up in a couple hours." Buffy says, eventually.

Spike gives no indication he hears or cares.

Buffy approaches the clawed out gravesite. "Spike. Get up. It's time to go."

Spike burrows into Drusilla's side more closely.

Buffy slides down into the grave with him. Giles makes an uncertain noise above them. "Buffy, if he prefers to dust with her come morning…perhaps we should honor his wishes."

Buffy glares up at Giles. "If you came across someone trying to put a bullet in their skull, would you honor their wishes, too?"

Giles sputters, "That's entirely different."

"Because they would be human?" Willow asks softly from where Buffy can no longer see her.

"He isn't Oz, Willow." Giles voice softens as he turns to the red head.

"I thought we pretty much just figured out they were really similar." Willow argues.

"I do wonder what the ritual would make of me." Oz remarks.

Giles heaves a stressed sigh. "I fear we are getting in over our heads with this…where do we stop? Spike is a vampire; Buffy is called to slay his kind."

Willow, "Isn't she technically supposed to slay all demons? I want to help Spike. We help Oz."

The discussion fades in Buffy's ears as she refocuses on Spike. "Spike, we can bury Drusilla again, let her dust, do whatever you feel is best with her, but the sun is coming up soon. You have to get up now."

Spike says dully, "Go away." His voice is muffled in Drusilla's throat.

"Not gonna happen. Come on." No answer. "You don't really have a choice about this. I'll drag you back to the library if I have to."

Spike stiffens and turns his face so one blue eye peeks at her from the white-black plateau. "Why are you doing this? It's your job to kill me. Just let me go."

"I quit my job."

Spike snorts. "You can't do that. You're the Slayer."

"If I can't quit, then you can't either."

"What…? Are you crazy? Leave me alone."

Buffy swallows heavily. "Look, I don't know if you heard earlier, but the ritual—"

"Doesn't fucking matter. Evil vampire, here. Leave me be."

"Can't. The Slayer's job description is to kill evil. But I'm also Buffy. And what I do is save people. Those glow-y bits in the crystal ball just made saving you my new job."

Giles makes a worrisome noise outside the grave, but Buffy and Spike continue as they couldn't hear him having a mini-panic attack above their heads.

Spike huffs incredulously. "I don't want to be saved!"

"That's why suicide watch exists."

Spike glares at her fully. "Fuck. Off."

"I told you, not gonna happen. Let's go, Spike." Buffy crouches down, prepared to physically remove him from the grave.

Spike boots her in the ribs, sending her flying back.

"Ooof!" Buffy regains her footing with a frown. She wades in and catches his lashing legs and drags him out of the grave.

"Let go! Argh!" Spike flails ineffectually.

"Guess you should've been drinking that blood we got for you," Buffy pants, holding on. "Not exactly at the top of your game, are you?" She catches a glimpse of Xander's open-mouthed expression, before Spike manages to kick her in the face. She drops him.

Spike scrabbles back, still seated. "What the hell is your problem, Slayer?" Buffy stares him down evenly. He looks to Giles and the others. "This has to be against your white-hat rules, saving demons. Tell her no!"

Giles and the others look alarmed, but when she meets her Watcher's eyes Buffy sees he's going to follow her lead for now.

Giles must be somewhat torn about what to do if he wasn't putting up more of a fuss.

Giles clears his throat. "I have found telling Buffy 'no' is an exercise in futility."

Ha.

Spike turns his wide-eyed gaze back on Buffy. "Holy shit. You've lost it. Did Angelus break you or something?" Buffy flinches a little.

"Whatever your issue is, don't take it out on me!"

"I'm not!" Buffy exclaims, maybe not entirely truthfully. "Spike, choose what you want to do with Drusilla, now. We are leaving, do you want to cover her back up or let her dust?"

Spike's face crumples, a little. "…cover her." He presses a dirt-caked hand to his eyes. "She'd probably find it comforting, knowing the worms were eating her up."

Buffy hears Willow choke a little behind her. Oz steps up and together with Xander, they all manage to re-bury Drusilla under the disturbed soil.

Spike remains on his knees in front of Drusilla's grave. "Sorry, baby. I don't want to leave you but I have no choice." He brushes the dirt down even. "You and Darla and Angelus always told me going after Slayers would be the end of me, I just figured you meant one would kill me someday. Guess this is the great 'I told you so.' Now I've got a nutty one on my ass—"

Buffy clears her throat, meaningfully.

"—so if I manage to escape this shit-show with my sense of self intact, I'll be back." He kisses his knuckles and presses them down to the earth.

The sky is just beginning to lighten when the strange entourage returns to Sunnydale High.

Spike has just collapsed bonelessly back in the cage, with one final glare when Giles pulls Buffy aside in the hallway.

"Buffy, what on earth are you thinking?"

Buffy tucks her chin to her chest and crosses her arms. "Honestly Giles, I'm thinking that I can try to save him."

"I seriously doubt that."

"What did you think you were doing when you brought him here from the factory?" She asks.

"That he would be an interesting case study!"

"But now we know about the humanity."

Giles sighs. "These are murky waters, Buffy. Not everyone can be rehabilitated, and a serial killer isn't a great subject for you to start with. Since when have you felt it was your job to save someone from themself?"

Buffy says nothing.

Giles' face lines with stress. "It wasn't your fault Angel lost his soul, Buffy. You have nothing to prove here."

Buffy doesn't meet her Watcher's eyes. "It's just something to do this summer so I don't get bored," Buffy fibs.

"I'm sure the Hellmouth will offer plenty of—"

"Maybe you didn't catch what I said to Spike earlier. I wasn't going to tell you until later, Giles, but I'm done."

"…done? With slaying you mean?"

The look on Giles' face: Watcher and father, understanding and disappointment has Buffy amending her statement.

"At least I need to take a break. Maybe a long one. Another Slayer will be called soon. Bring her to Sunnydale. I'm done for now."

Giles aims his gaze beyond her to the library book cage beyond the double doors. "And this is your pet project, is it?"

Buffy wrinkles her nose. "I guess so."

Giles removes his glasses and begins to clean them slowly and thoughtfully. He carefully replaces them on his nose. "Everyone deals with grief in their own way." Giles finally meets Buffy's gaze. "I'm with you my dear, but I will intervene if this gets out of hand."

"I guess that's fair." Buffy says.

Giles rests a hand on her shoulder for a brief moment, then reenters the library.