Title: A Progression in Moments

Pairing: Spander

Disclaimer: Do not own BTVS or characters

Warning: Slash, implied major character death (but is it for good? I actually really don't know)

Author Note: I went and added another chapter to this, planning to add more, so I had to change the title from Romance in 3 Parts to something different.


(Spike POV)

It was supposed to be just a game. Just something to pass the time.

If a bloke's not out killing or causing bloody mayhem there's absolute shit-all to do in this fucking town. Especially when a bloke's not the most welcomed person around.

So I'd thought I'd have some fun and play with the little white hat's minds. See what I could make them do.

And Harris was the perfect target.

The least physically dangerous, with the most emotional impact on the group

Absolutely no self-esteem or confidence and practically begging for any attention from anyone

The most suspicious and paranoid of the group, and pathetically desperate for masculinity

A history of caring for evil non-humans

Lived alone and looked good enough it wouldn't be a chore

And he never told the others anything.

Thought it'd be fun to make him want it, to make him want me.

To play with that paranoia and need and desperately kept heterosexuality. To take away the emotional support of the team and watch as it crumbled piece by piece.

And no one would be dead or realize my part in their destruction, if they even realized the destruction, so I'd still have the blood and dosh and be none the worse for wear.

But then time went on, the plan went into action, and it was fun. Too fun

The thing was, when I actually stopped constantly insulting the brat for a few seconds, I actually got to know the kid a bit.

And, damn, but Harris was bloody warped.

And, damn me, but I like warped. It makes a person interesting, not being able to predict or understand them.

It was one of the reasons I fell in love Dru, after all. I mean, Dru could be bloody annoying and demanding, but she was also fucking random. Anything could set her off.

And, fuck me, if I didn't love how that gave the relationship a sense of danger.

So I find out the kid's warped and then I'm actually trying to understand him, but I can't, so I can't stop thinking about him, so I keep going back to him even though I know damn well that I shouldn't because this game has clearly gone way too far, and the brat's actually become a bloody individual in my eyes instead of just another human, and, fuck it all, I've actually come to respect him.

And then the kid actually comes to trust me and I'm here. On his couch

Watching this blushing boy shuffle around a dirty apartment, so obviously trying not to look at me, heart beating fast, biting his lip, trying to work up the nerve . . . and I'm realizing that I'm actually nervous.

I'm actually fucking nervous about what this human kid is going to say.

It was just a bloody game.

He's nothing. Just a stupid, self-sacrificing, innocent, and insignificant little human.

So then why do I actually seem to care?