TITLE: Remember to Share

AUTHOR: Samantha McCullah

EMAIL: ankhet@cswnet.com

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"Let's remember to share, people."

-- Spike

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"We need to get inside," Spike commented, staring towards the east.

Buffy followed his gaze and noticed the sky was turning a slight

shade of pink.

"I think there's a farm house ahead. We can sleep in the cellar," she

replied.

Spike shot a look at her sideways. "I take it you've been here before."

"Nope, but all farm houses have cellars. I think there's a rule about

it." Spike chuckled softly, but then all humor drained from his face

as he doubled over. His face contorted in pain as he fell to his knees.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Worry was evident on Buffy's face; all she heard

in reply was a muffled scream. "Spike? Spike, damnit, answer me!"

"The sun," he gasped. "Its too close. Must...get...inside." He was

breathing heavy, like a mortal that had just run a 10K marathon.

"C'mon." Buffy pulled him to his feet, ignoring his gasp as pain

seared through him. She put an arm around his waist and supported

him as they hurried to the farmhouse.

___________________

They beat the sun. Barely.

Buffy managed to break the lock to the cellar. <Now's not the time to

worry about politeness, girl,> she thought to herself. She pushed

Spike into the cellar and slammed the cellar doors shut behind her

just as the first rays of sunlight slide over the horizon.

"Between your door slamming and my wheezing, its a miracle the

locals don't know we're here," Spike commented from his resting

place against the wall. Buffy obviously wasn't in the mood for

sarcasm.

"What happened out there?"

"You've never seen Angel outside that close to sunrise?" Spike

asked.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"It happens sometimes. Not all of the time, but enough that

we know it when it does." Spike paused for a moment trying

to get his breathing to return to normal. "Just call it an

extreme allergic reaction."

"To sunlight?" Spike nodded, closing his eyes. Buffy turned

away from him and busied herself trying to find something

that would resemble a blanket. She achieved her quest, and

made her way over to a corner farthest from the doors. She

spread the torn and dirty blanket out on the floor, then

stood up and surveyed her work. <Well, its not the Ritz.

Hell, its not even Motel Six,> she observed.

When she turned back around Buffy found Spike staring at her.

"What?" she asked him, embarrassed.

"Thank you," he replied. "You could have left me out there."

He pushed himself up the wall and stumbled over to her. Spike's

fingers brushed her cheek lightly. "What did I do to deserve

you?"

"Been wondering that myself," she responded, smirking up at

him. His hand continued to stroke her cheek. Suddenly she

grabbed his wrist in an iron grip. "Don't start something

you can't finish."

"Who said anything about not finishing?"

"The fact that you're about to pass out speaks for itself," she

joked.

"Then, milady," he replied, taking the hand that held his wrist into

his other hand and kissing it softly, "We shall retire for the night --

er, day." He knelt down and reclined on the blanket, then looked into

her eyes before pulling her roughly down next to him. He pressed his

lips to hers and kissed her gently. "G'night, luv."

"'Night, Spike."

And so vampire and Slayer slept, both of them too exhausted to notice

the lack of life in the obviously occupied farm house. And Spike too

out of it to notice a familiar scent.

__________________

Spike awoke first, as usual, and as usual, he was hungry. He checked

the cellar doors and noticed the lack of light. Once again they'd

slept the day away. As he slowly pulled his arm out from under Buffy's

body, she stirred, opened her eyes, and smiled lazily up at him. Spike

gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before rising to his feet.

"Goin' somewhere?" she asked.

"Hungry," he replied.

"Pick me up a hamburger while you're out," she responded, turning

over and going back to sleep. Spike smiled as he watched her.

<She's taking it well. My feeding and all.>

He turned to the doors, climbed up the steps, and pushed them open.

As he stepped into the cool night air, the first thing he noticed

was the pungent aroma of fresh blood. He rounded a corner of the

house to find its former occupants hanging lifelessly by their

ankles from an overtaxed clothesline. Their throats had each been

sliced. When Spike got closer, he recognized the weapon that had

been used. <No. Not here, not now.>

"They offered me a bite," the cultured female voice commented from

behind him. "So I took one...or four," the voice giggled. Spike

turned to stare at her.

"Drusilla," he breathed.

"My little Spike!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Spike walked over to her; he grabbed her hands and stopped the

clapping.

"Quiet, pet," he replied.

"I knew you'd come back. Miss Edith said the Slayer would stop

you, but Miss Edith spoke out of turn," Drusilla commented.

"I thought you were goin' back to Angel, pet."

"My Angel wasn't home. Miss Edith says he is burning."

<She's not wrong, pet,> Spike thought. "But now you've

come back." She bounced in place at the supposed happy

news. She linked her arm with his and pulled his face

down to her mouth. "We'll have a party," she whispered.

Drusilla's hand snaked up to caress his cheek, much like

he had caressed Buffy's. Spike moaned in spite of himself.

Dru giggled and moved Spike's mouth onto hers. Her lips

stroked his softly, barely touching his. Then she pulled

him hard against her, and kissed him roughly.

As her tongue slipped into his mouth, he kissed her back with

the same passion. Only he wasn't thinking of Dru; the only person

on his mind was the Slayer. Drusilla must have felt that because

she broke the kiss off and growled under her breath.

"You reek of her," she commented, just before the hand that had

caressed his cheek slapped him now.

"Pet," he warned as his face changed.

____________________

Buffy was awakened by the sound of a voice exclaiming 'My little Spike'

and a clapping sound that followed. She looked to the open cellar door,

and slowly crawled to her feet. <This had better be a dream,> she thought

as she stepped out of the cellar. She stretched long and hard as she

walked towards the voices.

"My Angel wasn't home. Miss Edith says he is burning." <That voice

sounds familiar,> Buffy thought as she neared a corner of the house.

She rounded the corner but quickly rerounded when she saw who was

with Spike. <Drusilla,> the dark part of Buffy's mind hissed. She

was sure that Drusilla hadn't seen her, after all the female vamp

was more engaged with sticking her tongue down Spike's throat.

<And Spike! He's not exactly beating her off him!> Buffy wheeled

around and stalked back to the cellar. She knew she should do

something but too many emotions were surging through her for her

to think straight. Buffy jumped down the steps into the dark of

the cellar.

She tried not to cry, but the events of the passed week finally

caught up with her. <Is this how *he* felt? When I ran him through,

did he feel like this?> She pictured the look on his face as

the vortex sucked him to Hell. The tears rolled down her face as

her body was racked with sobs. <'I love you'. The last words he'll

ever say to me, and I couldn't say 'em back.>

Then, Buffy had a moment of clarity. She knew what Angel would want

her to do. She reached to the small of her back and pulled out a

backup stake. Then she waited. She had a sacred duty. She'd be damned

if she was going to let it slide.

__________________

Spike willed himself back to human form. <Violence was not the

way to deal with Dru.> "Come now, pet. What are you talking

about?"

"The Slayer. I smell her on you. You loved her," she replied.

"Now, now, ducks. Where's Miss Edith?" Spike changed the

subject quickly.

"In the house, my Spike." She latched onto the subject change.

She skipped towards the house but turned back to Spike. "Spike?"

she begged holding out her hand.

"You go get your things, poodle. I'm gonna eat first," he commented.

"Then we'll go home."

"Home, yes." With that, she skipped up the steps and into the back

door of the house. Spike turned back to the bodies, but he didn't

have time to eat. Instead he turned to the cellar and headed into

the blackness.

The first thing Spike noticed was that Buffy wasn't asleep anymore,

the second was the blinding pain he felt when Buffy kneed him. Spike

doubled over.

"What the hell was that for?" he hissed through the pain.

"For Angel," she replied and kicked in the stomach.

"And that? Was that for your precious Angel, too?" Spike asked

still on the floor.

"No, that was for me."

"What's your deal, Slayer?"

"I don't like being betrayed."

<Oh, God. She knows.>

"I saw you with her, Spike," she commented.

"Let me explain, luv --"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she screamed. "You lost the right to call

me that." By this time Spike had managed to get back to his feet.

Of course, Buffy remedied that by a kick to his face. He ended up

on the ground with a bloody nose.

"What is she doing to you, my Spike?" Drusilla asked.

"Look who's come to play," Buffy taunted. She rushed Dru with the

stake in hand, but Spike regained his footing in time to grab and

disarm her, just missing being impaled himself.

"Don't, Slayer. She'll kill you," Spike ordered, still holding her.

"Good, 'cause I don't have much to live for anymore," Buffy commented.

Drusilla glanced wildly from Spike to Buffy.

"You have me, pet," he whispered.

"Do I?" she replied. Dru, finally fed up with the Slayer, ran down the

steps and tried to rush Buffy. Spike stepped between them.

"Hey, watch it, Dru," he ordered as she lashed out with a high heeled

foot.

"Maybe we actually have something in common," Buffy replied, stepping

back from Spike. "Neither one of us likes to share." Spike watched her

as she stepped around him and Dru. "Looks like you gotta make a choice.

Me or Dru?"

Drusilla calmed herself at those words. "I'm still your princess.

Right, Spike?" Spike didn't reply. Buffy watched his face for a

few moments before she turned and headed up the cellar steps.

"If you need me, I'll be on the road." She paused and turned to

Spike. "Maybe I'll see you." Then she walked out of the cellar.

<Buffy or Dru. Buffy or Dru?>

____________________

Read the Interlude: Comparison, Contrast to find out how Spike decides!

____________________

Spike faced Dru in the cellar, his face already demon-esqe. He stared

at her. She growled at him, but Spike new it was playful. <She doesn't

believe me.> He growled at her, not in the least playful. She whimpered

softly. Spike reached out, grabbed her hair, and pulled head back.

"If you ever come near me or Buffy again, I swear I will kill you,"

he hissed. He let go of her hair; she whimpered again and rubbed her

head. To make a point she grabbed Miss Edith and threw her against the

wall. Dru screamed and ran over to the fallen doll. "I *will* kill

you, Dru," he replied, more to convince himself than her.

He left her crying over the shattered doll.

"Spike?" she called out after a few minutes. Dru was certain he would

come back to her. But Spike was already gone.

He had a Slayer to find.

_____________________

<How did I ever trust him?> Buffy berated herself. <How could I ever think

that I loved *him*?> She walked down the road, still heading to LA.

But despite of everything, she still missed Spike. They had a way with

each other that few could match. Buffy smiled to herself at the thought

of their first fight.

<He didn't need weapons to be manly,> she thought. <Don't go there, girl!>

she ordered herself as the thoughts of their first night together surged

to the surface. <You're so over him!> a voice urged. <Yeah, right.>

Then she felt it. Her Slayer sense went tingly. <Vampire. Spike?

Probably Dru come to finish me off.>

"Slayer!" His voice called out to her. He was using his inhuman

speed to catch up with her. She kept walking. "Slayer, please!"

She still walked, but she walked much slower. "SLAYER!" he shouted,

and she turned to face him.

He covered the remaining distance and swept her into his arms.

"Spike, put me down."

"I'm so sorry, luv," he whispered.

"I know, Spike. I know." She stroked his head, running her hands through

her hair.

"Slayer?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"Do you love me?"

"I don't know anymore. I just don't know." She hesitated, started walking

again. She stopped and turned when Spike wasn't following her. "Coming?"

Spike stared at her, relief evident on her face. "Don't get cocky. All

isn't forgiven, but I'll put up with you."

They walked off into the night. Slayer and vampire. Not the most healthy

relationship on earth, but a relationship none the less.

<Fin>

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Comments? Send too Samantha McCullah

Get me back to Angel of the Night!

Get me back to Spike's Corner!

Get me outta here period!