It's a thin line between love and hate.

*You tried to rape her.*

It's a thin line between love and hate.

*My... the first woman I loved, ever. Why, Spike? Did it make you feel good, to take something that had been mine? Did using her fill some void, make up for Dru's defection? Is that what you were doing? Replacing Dru?*

It's five o'clock in the morning and you're just getting in,
A knock upon a door, a voice sweet and low says.
(Who is it ?)
She opens up the door and she lets you in.
Never once does she say, where have you been?

*She came here to tell me, to tell me about you and her. Buffy stood there in my office and told me that she'd slept with you. Willingly let you touch her. That you were in love with her. I doubted that, but she insisted. Maybe you do love her; you certainly convinced her of that. It's irrelevant, though. The fact remains that you tried to force yourself on her. That was unacceptable.*

She says hold it, are you hungry, did you eat yet?
Let me hang up your coat now.
And all the time she's smiling, never raises her voice,
It's five o'clock in the morning and you don't give it a second thought.

*But you know what, Spike? That's not the part that has me up here tonight, trying to find stars in a muddy sky. See, it wasn't what Buffy said about your destructive relationship that sent me running. No, it was what she said after. The real reason she found her way to Los Angeles.*

It's a thin line between love and hate.

*You have a soul.*

It's a thin line between love and hate.

*She said she saw it, she knew it. That Anya, a demon again, saw it too, and there was no way you could fool Anyanka. She's got this thing about demons. No, Buffy didn't come to Los Angeles to tell me you assaulted her, didn't find me to ask me to hunt you down and stake you. No, Buffy showed up here because she was worried about you.*

The sweetest woman in the world could be the meanest woman in the world,
You can make her be that way.
She might be holding something in
That's really gonna hurt you one of these fine days.

*Why? Because according to Buffy you've lost what little mind you ever had. The last time she saw you, you weren't looking so good; gaunt, wild-eyed and ranting about voices. Reminds me of Dru. Much to her relief, though, you seem to have decided to leave her alone. That's good. Keep doing that, Spike.*

There you are in the hospital, bandaged from foot to head.
In a state of shock - that much from being dead.
You didn't think your woman could do something like that to you.
Didn't think she'd got the nerve, accidents speak louder than words.
Louder than words, louder than words, louder than words.

*You disappeared. That worried her, Spike. She came to me to tell me you'd left Sunnydale. You'd been helping her with some sort of demon and then you were just gone. Buffy, a Slayer by destiny, worried enough about the disappearance of a vampire to tell his Sire. I guess maybe you did care about her, at least enough to register in her mind as an actual person. Still, I don't think she likes you very much. I don't blame her.*

*Why, Spike? Why did you do this? All of this? You know what Buffy means to me, what she stands for. Yes, I've moved on, and so has she. That doesn't change it, though. And the soul. I know I hurt you when I got cursed, leaving you like that. Gods know, it hurt me, to crawl away, knowing I'd never touch you again. My sweetest William. But a soul? Spike, these souls, they pull and tear at your mind. I was mad so long when I first had mine back. Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you do this to me?*

Come on baby, baby, you don't give a damn about me.

*If you come here... I can't stake you, you know. I never could; if I'd been able to do that you'd have been dust decades ago. I've been telling myself all these years that as long as you didn't do anything monumentally bad, I could safely ignore it, and you. This one is close, though. What am I supposed to do, Spike? Forget that you tried to rape her? Hope that you don't show up and decide to try for Cordelia?*

Come on baby, baby, you don't give a damn about me.

*They mean so much to me, Spike. I... They love me, and I love them. Please, just... I can't do this, Spike. Choose, that is. Do I condemn you, renounce you? Do I forget it, wipe the slate clean?*

*What would you have me do, Spike?*