When I fall in love
It will be forever

Spike raised his head in recognition. The words of the familiar song washed over him,
soothingly crooned. It was almost like tasting the warm velvet of a good whiskey. It wasn't
what he needed. He needed vodka and spite. He needed music he could scream and shout
to, music that allowed him to forget what he had become. And all they played on a day like
this was music that made you fall deeper.

Or I'll never fall in love

"It's all lies, isn't it?"

He turned his head sharply. Perched next to him on a barstool was a woman. Well, he said
woman...she looked around twenty. She was nursing an empty glass. He pointed at it.

"You've obviously got problems. So why aren't you drinking?"

"Well, that's just charming."

Spike sighed, and downed the rest of his drink.

"Look, pet. If you didn't have problems, you wouldn't be sitting in here, on Valentine's Day.
And I don't want to hear your problems. So I'd rather you had a drink, got pissed, and left me

"Okay. Five vodka shots, please."

He gave her another look.

"You're having five? Didn't take you for the drinking sort."

She ignored him, and lined up the shots. Spike shrugged, and the bartender refilled his own
glass. The vampire stared at the amber liquid balefully. He had never thought that he'd feel
like this, when it finally happened. Not in a million years. He thought he'd be…happy.

"I'm not."


"Not the drinking sort. It's just…"

In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before it's begun

"Couldn't have put it better, really."

The peroxide blonde smirked, and rolled his eyes.

"I see. You've been chucked."


"Dumped. Abandoned. Left. Rejected. Take your pick."

Her silence proved that he was right. Spike decided that if he couldn't be happy, he was going
to make this girl miserable.

"What happened? You not putting out enough in the sack? Passion not sizzling? Cooking

"Actually, he cheated on me. I left him."

Spike needlessly inhaled, and chuckled dryly.

"You loved him, right? True love. What a load of crap."

She turned on him, now. Fire in her eyes, angry. Reminded him of the Slayer, a little. She was
back to being the Slayer now, of course. For a little while he'd thought of her as Buffy…but
that was all over, now.

And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

Yeah, that was right. How could he have been so stupid as to even entertain the idea that she
might love him? He could never take her for picnics. He could never be real enough for
her…just a shadowy romance, empty passion that would always be fairytale. Brothers'

When I give my heart
it will be completely

"What do you know about true love? It was…I loved him."

He noticed that there was only one shot remaining. Sighing, he shook his head.

"And what exactly is true love to you? Would you have died for him? Would you have killed for
him? Would you have turned over body and heart and head and sacrificed your entire bloody
life just for a few seconds…just for three words?"

Or I'll never give my heart

He would have. With him, it was all or nothing. Spike wanted everything, but everything
wasn't very much. It was just one thing. Just her.

"See? You don't know what love is…"

"Yes. Yes, I do. And it isn't death. It isn't proving yourself. It's when two people want each
other so badly that they'd be apart if it made the other one happy. There's no such thing as
unrequited love. There's only unrequited lust. Love is something made for two…"

She started sobbing. The vodka had obviously kicked in.

And the moment I can feel
that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you.

No. He loved her. This bitch was wrong…she had to be. If it wasn't love, then what was he
feeling inside? What was making him want to kiss her, and touch her and have her say she
loved him…have her want him the way he wanted her? It was love. He just had a skewed
perspective. In his world, death and sacrifice were everyday concerns. It was more vital, more
emotional, more serious…it was love that didn't need reality.

It wasn't real.

"You're making my head hurt."

It wasn't real.

"Isn't me, love. It's the vodka. Come with me."

"Will you stop my head hurting?"

He simply nodded, and took her by the hand. Outside the night air was cold, and she
shivered. He pulled her close, and whispered into her ear.


"For what?"

"For helping me to see…that it wasn't real."

He felt the burden of love release its claws and slip from his back. She gasped as his fangs
sank into the skin and he sucked. He sucked and licked and lapped from her blood like a cat
from a saucer. Spike threw back his head and dropped her to the ground. He heard the faint
strains of music from inside the bar. It was warm, and full of people.

The jukebox was stuck on the same track. It had been since the bartender's head had
smashed through the cheap plastic covering. A man sat alone with his feet on the table.
Bodies lay around him like gory confetti. He stubbed the cigarette into the table, and walked
over to the jukebox. One fingernail, painted with chipped black nail varnish traced a heart in
the bartender's blood. Then he spat in it. Stepped back, and visciously kicked the jukebox.
Again and again.

And the moment I can feel
that you feel that way too

The music ground to a halt. He smiled, and swaggered out of the bar. If anyone had been left
alive, they would have heard a lone voice singing. A familiar song.

"And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too…is when I fall in love with you."