Becoming Spike
by Peyton
Chapter 1
“I wanna save the world.”
Can you believe this guy? All oozing sex appeal, jutting hips and wolfy smirk
like he’s God’s gift, or something! As if! Satan’s gift maybe but I’m pretty
sure the other side isn’t hanging any banners for him.
“Okay. You do remember you’re a vampire, right?”
And off he goes. Does he ever shut up? Like I care about what he has to say
anyway. Evil dead thing! So not going to make I Love the 90s - 1998. .
.especially with that hair.
“. . . see what I’m saying?”
Huh? “Uh, sort of?”
“Why don’t you put that stake down?”
Yeah, like that’s gonna happen! Do I look like I’m in the market for a bridge?
Nasty bloodsucking fiend wants to have a powwow . . . don’t think that comes up
very often. Does it ever? He’s probably just yanking my chain until he can
catch me off guard. He’s gonna have to be pretty convincing when he explains
why he’s calling this little confab.
I tell him so.
“I want Dru back. I want it like it was, before he came back. The way she acts
around him. . . “
Oh gross! It’s time to get the hitting started. That’s my favorite part
anyway. I call him pathetic and we’re off! Can you believe this guy? Giles is
missing. Willow’s unconscious and possibly comatose. Kendra...oh Kendra! Who
cares if Dru’s a big ho. Of course it rankles that she’s being that big ho with
my formerly souled former boyfriend but I’m above letting that bother me.
Obviously taste in women comes with a soul. Who knew?
Spike is right, though. He’s all I’ve got and right now I need him.
~~~~~
Can’t believe I’m doing this. Sitting in the Slayer’s living room like I’ve
come calling; waiting for the over protective parental figure to give me the
first degree. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
She’s a comely one, though. Can see where the Slayer gets her looks. Not her
moves, though. They’re pure predator. The way she fights. The way she walks.
The way she dances. Swaying. Writhing. Thrusting. Glistening. Glowing.
Eff. . . .
Bloody hell! Let’s hope the coat is pulled forward enough. Don’t wanna give
Momma Slayer a coronary.
I’m gonna kill Dru for putting me through this. I’m making deals with the
Slayer for pity sake! That’s just wrong on levels I don’t wanna contemplate.
After a hundred years you’d think I’d have earned a bit of respect. But no!
Bloody Daddy shows up and a century of fidelity and trust is right out the
window. Makes me wonder why I bother.
Why do I bother?
It’s not as if Dru’s a font of deep meaningful conversation and companionship.
On a good day she sounds like the dialog of a movie that’s been translated into
Japanese and then back to English. She needs me, though, or at least she did
until precious Angelus showed up again. Doesn’t matter. She’s my destiny and
I’m hers. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Right?
~~~~~
As I hang up the phone, after saying goodbye to Xander, a wave of disorientation
hits me and I have to stop and think before I can remember what comes next.
I’ve been getting these feelings since the day after my birthday; the day I
stole my lover’s soul and turned him evil. This can’t be happening. Sure, guys
don’t call after sex but they don’t become psychotic, murderous, soulless,
blood-sucking stalkers. Not really. Maybe in movies or on a weird teenage
television soap opera but it doesn’t happen to actual people.
Then again I wasn’t dating a people, was I?
It occurs to me that I left my mother with one of those blood-suckers and I run
into the living room intent on saving her. Another wave of disorientation
threatens when I realize they’re having a conversation about Mom’s art
boutique. I think my brain shuts down for a moment before I realize my mom’s
asking me about Willow.
As I answer her I realize that if I don’t get this show on the road I’m gonna
turn into a drooling lunatic so I concentrate on working out the details of my
pact with Spike.
~~~~~
There aren’t words to describe how much I hate this cursed wheelchair. It’s a
symbol of my inability to defeat the Slayer; a tiny chit of a girl no bigger
than my thumb. It helps to know that she killed Darla’s beloved Master but I
always felt I was better than him, anyway. I’m certainly better than Dru’s
Neanderthal Sire and look how bent out of shape she makes him. At least I’ve
never fallen for a Slayer. That’s gotta be the worst. Being a vamp and knowing
you’ve fallen in love with the bloody personification of goodness and light. At
times I almost feel sorry for the sod. Well, maybe not.
“You cut him up you’ll never get your answers.”
I didn’t want to play this card so soon but Angelus has never been the patient
sort. Dru will pull all the answers out of the Watchers head in less time than
it will take me to grab a smoke and then what am I gonna do to stall the
ceremony until the Slayer arrives. She better get here soon. Sure I can keep
the Council boy alive but that’s no good if the world’s gone to hell, now is it?
God he’s a mess. There’s blood everywhere, the way he breathes makes it obvious
that he’s got a few cracked ribs and I’m pretty sure his days as a concert
pianist are over. I hope the Slayer doesn’t demand a discount for damaged
goods. I know how he feels. I’ve been in his shoes more than I care to
contemplate. Angelus considers himself an artist and artists need to practice,
now don’t they?
Slayer better get here soon.
~~~~~
“What did you mean, "the sword isn't enough"?”
“You know, raiding an Englishman's fridge is like dating a nun. You're never
gonna get the good stuff.”
“Tell me how to use it.”
“Angel's the key. His blood will open the door to Hell. Acathla opens his big
mouth, creates the vortex, then only Angel's blood'll close it. One blow. Send 'em
both back to hell. But I strongly suggest you get there before that happens.
The faster you kill Angel, the easier it'll be for you. At least that’s the way
it’s supposed to happen.”
“What do you mean by “supposed to” For a mysterious soothsayer you sound awfully
unsure of yourself. Gotta say, not all that impressed.”
“A wildcard’s been thrown into the mix. Everything was clearly gonna happen a
certain way until just recently when the future suddenly got cloudy. That’s why
I’m here, kid. To try to make sure everything goes according to plan.”
“Yeah, but whose plan?”
tbc
A/N I’m hoping I find a better place to put this note than right before
the chapter, as I don’t want to interrupt the flow of the narrative, but I
wanted to thank everyone for their encouraging comments. This is the first
piece of fiction I’ve written since roughly 1983 and I’m glad you guys don’t
think it’s absolute garbage. I have to say. Writing’s a *heck* of a lot harder
than editing! Also, I figured out how to add italics and bolding so things will
look a little better from here on out! %^> Oh and thank you to my Dear Hubby for
BETAing this for me. There’s no one in the world whose opinion I trust as much
as yours. Peyton
Chapter 2
“Coming on kind of strong, don't you think? You're playing some deep odds
here - do you really think you can take us all on?”
“No. I don’t.”
That’s when the really surprising thing happens. Spike jumps out of his chair
and starts whaling on Angel with a poker from the fireplace. He said he would
help me but I didn’t honestly believe him. All the way here I tried to figure
out his angle and here he was being straight with me all along.
A vampire who keeps his word; how weird is that?
Angel goes down but I get tackled from behind by Minion-of-the-Week so I miss
the second act of Whack-an-Angel. I’m ashamed to admit that I was still so
surprised about Spike’s dependability that it took way too long to take
Minion down. In the back of my mind I could hear Drusilla wailing the way only
Psychotic Queens of the Dark can and I think Dru and Spike start to
argue. By the time I dust my opponent and retrieve my weapon Angelus has his
hands on the sword in the stone and I see it slide menacingly out of its chest.
Oh shit.
~~~~~
Can you believe this? Dru attacked me. ME! All for her precious
Angelus. Spend a century being loving and caring. Put the wishes of the love
of your life before your own. Take care of her when she’s sick and weak. Spend
months researching ways to cure her and take on a Slayer in the process and the
moment her daddy gets a bruise she turns on you like a scorpion.
That’s gratitude for ya.
” I don't want to hurt you, baby. . .” Except, I do a little. I’m right
pissed I am! She pulled this shite all the time back in the day and it looks
like nothing’s changed in the intervening 100 years. A body gets just a mite
fed up, ya know?
The shot to her face makes everything seem a little better for a minute...
All of a sudden Dru lights up like Christmas morning and I actually hope, for a
split second, that she’s come to her senses, but no. Angel’s got the sword free
from the lungs of that hideous monstrosity and it looks like Armageddon ain’t
all that far away.
I finally get a choke hold on Dru and it’s good night, Gracie.
~~~~~
”My boy Acathla’s about to wake up. You’re going to hell.”
Grandstand much? I say something appropriately witty to try to make my part of
the fight look effortless; but it’s not. I don’t understand how Spike can love
Dru so much he’d make a deal with me and keep it; while Angelus can’t
love me at all. If it takes a soul to love then why does Spike love Dru?
Is it me?
Am I just unlovable?
The fight moves out into a small courtyard and the next thing I know Angel’s got
me on my hands and knees up against a wall. My sword is long gone and it looks
like the end for Buffy. Part of me doesn’t care anymore. It hurts too much.
This is Angel for God’s sake! The love of my life; the ma. . .guy I
trusted more than anything in the world. He’s really going to kill me.
~~~~~
”God, he’s going to kill her. . .”
Oh well. I shrug my shoulders and head towards the garage. I got what I came
for, didn’t I? Suddenly visions of football and Passions and Buffalo wings and
Buffy dancing wearing that tiny skirt and Buffy hitting me in the nose while her
eyes flash with excitement and the sadness in Buffy’s face whenever she says the
Poof’s name pass before my eyes and I realize that I’m not done here. I can’t
just leave her. I don’t want the world to end and part of me doesn’t
want Angelus to be the one to kill Buffy. She deserves better. Hell, I
deserve better.
Sighing, I put Dru down against the wall and run out into the garden. Angelus
has Buffy down and backed into a corner and his sword is drawn back to deliver
the death blow.
A roar erupts from my chest as I throw myself at Angelus knocking him into the
wall next to Buffy. My body presses him up against the concrete temporarily
immobilizing him. He drops the sword as I grab his head and start smashing his
face into the concrete.
God this feels good!
Suddenly the room erupts in energy. I feel static electricity shoot up my arms
and I drop the poof to back away. Angelus starts to shake and his eyes light up
as if his brain’s on fire. He slumps to the ground and I move to finish the job
when a tiny body slams into me and throws me back into the mansion.
What the hell?
~~~~~
Oh my God! OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod! It’s Angel! He’s
back! Willow must have tried the spell again from her hospital bed! He blinks
dazedly; partly from the beating he just took from Spike (and what was that all
about? Spike saving my life?) and partly from suddenly getting his soul back.
I grab his sword and help him to his feet. We enter the mansion through the
sliding door I just pushed Spike through. He’s there, getting back to his feet
and Dru is starting to come around against the far wall. My swords on the
ground next to Acathla and there’s a wind building in the room. My heart
freezes when I realize that the portal inside the statue is beginning to open.
“Buffy?” Angel is starting to get his bearings back and my throat constricts
knowing what I have to do. “Buffy, what’s going on? I don’t remember. . .where
are we?”
I try not to choke on my tears as I maneuver Angel towards Acathla. Spike’s
there and as I start to ask him to get out of the way a wild shriek comes from
behind me. I’m knocked off my feet as Dru rushes at Spike knocking Angel back
towards the door. I realize she’s grabbed my sword and she’s aimed it for
Spike’s chest.
~~~~~
Bloody hell that hurts! Dru’s pinned me to the statue and if the odd pulling
feeling I’ve got in my chest means what I think it does then I’m in for a world
of hurt.
“Dru darling? I think we need to take a break. . .”
She doesn’t really hear me in her hysteria. Doesn’t matter. Looks like the Big
Bad’s going out with a bang.
I look towards the Slayer and I’m surprised to see she’s watching me with tears
in her eyes. I’d have thought she’d be all over Peaches with the comfort and
the warm welcome but it looks like she’s feeling bad for me. A rush of warmth
sets in when I realize that Nancy Boy’s pretty gutted that he’s not got her
attention.
“Don’t feel bad love. . .” I want to say more but it seems I’ve got no lungs
left.
Bugger for a nark! When’d everything go all pear shaped?
tbc
Chapter 3
Huh?
I thought Whistler said that only Angel’s blood could close the portal. How
come Spike was able to do it? I don’t understand. What just happened?
Drusilla, who had slumped against Acathla the moment Spike disappeared, started
a keening wail. “Noooooooo! Daddy’s in a gilded cage and my Spike’s gone to
define pain and suffering. Who will take care of poor Princess? I’m alone . . .
all alone!”
Wow. Self involved much? You just sent your boyfriend to hell and you’re
worried about being lonely? Unbidden Spike’s expression at the moment Acathla
closed comes to mind. He had been laughing like a maniacal eight year old and
he stared into my eyes as if we were sharing a private joke. I don’t know why,
but Spike’s death bothers me. He’d been helping. He saved my life! He
didn’t deserve to get sucked into hell without a fighting chance.
“Buffy?” Angel’s voice breaks my reverie and I realize I’ve been quietly
staring at Acathla for a while now. “Buffy, what’s going on?”
“Spike’s dead.” I don’t know what to think. I certainly don’t know how to
feel. My emotions can’t switch directions that quickly and I find I’m still
upset with Angel for Angelus’s actions.
“Dead . . . but that’s good, right?”
I turn to Angel, “He died helping me save the world from Angelus.”
“Buffy . . .”
I dust my hands off on my pants and pick up the remaining sword from the floor.
I’m crying and I can’t seem to stop. I don’t even know who I’m crying for or
why. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got to figure out what to do with
the rest of my homeless, wanted-by-the-police, expelled-from-high-school life.
Meet me at the Library tomorrow at dusk, we’ll talk. And do something about
her, will you.” I point at Dru who is still yowling and clawing blindly at the
statue.
I have nowhere to go so it’s not surprising that I find myself outside of Giles
house waiting for him to get home from the hospital. I feel horrible for
running out on Angel. It’s not his fault he lost his soul. It’s mine.
It’s just that so many things happened tonight that are confusing at best and
life altering at worst. I need time to process it. I need time to try and
understand.
“Buffy? Oh, thank heavens you’re alright!”
I must have fallen asleep sitting against the door. Giles is looming over me
bandaged like a . . . guy . . . with a lot of bandages. Geez. I must really be
tired. My enhanced powers of simile are waning. . . or is it metaphor? I never
could get those two straight. No wonder I was expelled.
“My mom kicked me out.”
“Oh dear! Well, you are certainly welcome to stay here until we are able to
smooth things out between yourself and your mother. Come on in and tell me what
happened tonight. Can I assume Angelus has been taken care of?”
“If by taken care of you mean that his soul is back and he’ll be meeting us at
the library tomorrow to give a full report then, yes. He’s been taken care of.”
I could see Giles strain not to pull his glasses off and clean them with his
bandaged hand. I’m sure after everything that’s happened he’s not very happy
that Angel is still among the not living but there’s been enough death
tonight.
Intense light. Bright. Too bright.
It’s blazing through my closed eyelids so that all I can see is a red glow. My
head is aching horribly but I can’t remember why. I open my eyes and there’s a
brilliant overhead light bulb embedded in the ceiling. When I try to lift my
head and look around pain shoots through the back of my skull and I whimper. I
persevere and when I’m finally able to turn my head I see a room made up of
three white walls and one glass wall with a sliding door which is currently
closed. I feel a rush of anger. Damned Slayer!
Huh? I’m the Slayer. With that thought everything blurs and I’m in Giles
bathroom. Spike’s chained in the tub for some weird reason. Kinky. I can see
he’s pretty chapped. If I were in his position I’d be pissed off too so I guess
it’s understandable. I lean forward and hear someone who sounds surprisingly
like me say “Ooh... look at my poor neck, all bare and tender and delicious...”
There’s a flood of warmth in my gut at the look of longing in Spike’s face. The
voice that’s mine but not mine speaks again “All that blood just pumping away. .
.” I can see Spike’s pants start to shift. Oh God! Gross! I am not
attracted to Spike for cripes sake! Even if he does have beautiful eyes
and a body to die for. God! Where did that thought come from? I start to back
away and Spike looks at me. The real me, not the me that was speaking earlier,
and tries to speak but all that comes from his lips is a sound like a dog’s bark
before everything goes blurry again.
I’m in the Bronze dancing, except there’s no one on the dance floor but me. I
can see Spike dangling from chains from the second floor balcony and Angel and
Drusilla are taking turns poking him with a lance that’s shooting sparks.
Giles, Xander and Willow are sitting around a table playing poker when Willow
looks up at me and says “Your apples. They’re turning brown; the way apples
do.”
Spike starts to laugh. It’s the same laugh from when he was being sucked into
Acathla and the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. A bright light
starts to glow from something hanging around his neck and it starts to swell
until it erupts into beams of light that scour the Bronze like a disco ball. As
it touches me I can feel myself start to burn. The last thing I see before I
feel myself crumble to dust is Angel, my friends and Dru burning like kindling.
“Buffy! Buffy!! It’s all right! It’s just a dream!” Giles voice
startles me awake and my head bumps his as I sit up abruptly. I must really
have been out of it if I didn’t even hear him enter the room.
“I’m not surprised that the events of the past few days provoked some
nightmares.” Giles smiles at me through his bump-induced wince.
“I don’t know Giles. That didn’t feel like any dream I’ve ever had before; not
even the Slayer ones. It felt like it was real,”
I describe the details to Giles who remains quiet, occasionally nodding at
points where the dream was most surreal.
“And you say Spike was the primary focus of the majority of the dream?”
“It seemed like it. I know he helped me out tonight, but why would I be
dreaming about him so vividly? It’s not as if we’re close or anything.”
“Well, he did die because of Acathla. I’ll start researching what hell
dimension Acathla’s portal opens up into in the morning. Maybe that will shed
some light on why you experienced this particular dream. If you don’t feel that
it’s a Slayer dream it’s still entirely possible that you simply experienced a
particularly vivid nightmare caused by the stress of the past several days. As
for Spike’s role; well, he did die because he was helping you and you may be
working through some feelings of guilt about his death. Let me know if you
dream like this again, but until then I’m fairly certain we can write this off
to nervous tension.”
“Maybe you’re right, Giles. At least, I hope you are. I’ll be totally
happy if it never happens again.”
Pausing on his way back out of the bedroom Giles turns, “Well, seeing that it’s
almost time to get up for school anyway, you should probably consider getting
out of bed. I strongly suggest you call your mother this morning before
school. No matter what you argued about last night; she’s likely to be
extremely worried about you this morning.”
Sighing I swing my legs out of bed. Giles is totally right about calling Mom.
Of course, he might not be so understanding when I break the news that Mom’s in
on the whole Slayer secret thing. In the cold light of day I’m sure she’s upset
that she doesn’t know where I am. I’ve never doubted she loves me. Hell, I
had a hard time when I first found out I was the Slayer I can’t blame Mom for
wigging on me last night.
I pick up the phone and dial my house.
“Buffy?!?!?” my mom answers anxiously.
“Yeah Mom. It’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay and that I
stayed at Giles house last night.
“Mr. Giles, the librarian?” she’s confused again.
“Yeah, Mom. Remember? He’s my Watcher. He’s from a Council of guys who help
Slayers with their calling.”
“Oh, Buffy. I was so worried last night. I didn’t mean what I said. Please
come home today.”
I get the feeling that I’m going to have to explain the whole Giles thing to her
a third time some time in the near future but I let it go. “I’ll be home after
school, Mom. We need to talk and I think we need to do it with the whole
group.”
“There’s a group that knows what you do?” I hear her voice sharpen. Sure she
was worried about me but that’s not going to help when she realizes how many
people knew I was the Slayer while she was kept out of the loop.
“There’s a few people, who found out what I do, that help me. We’ll be meeting
at the school library this evening and I’d like it if you could come tonight so
we can answer your questions.”
“Buffy, don’t you think that we should have a talk just between the two of us. .
.”
“I do, Mom. We’ll do that after school before we meet the with everyone.”
“Is that Spike person part of the group?”
“No Mom.”
“Well, that’s a shame. He seemed like such a nice young man and he was very
eager to help you.”
“We’ll talk about him later, okay Mom?”
I hear her sigh over the connection. “Okay, Buffy, but I have to say; I’m not
happy at all that I was excluded from such a large part of your life. I’m your
mother and we’re all each other has.”
“I’m sorry Mommy.” And I am. I feel terrible that she feels excluded from my
life. She’s right. After Dad left we were all each other had and in retrospect
I’m questioning my decision to leave her ignorant about my calling.
I have to say I’m not looking forward to the talk I need to have with Giles
about my mother’s newfound knowledge of Slayer lore. He gets grumpy every time
a new person finds out about my calling. I can just see him now all pouty faced
and cleaning his glasses, except he’ll be driving to school so I guess cleaning
his glasses will be pretty difficult.
Okay, so talking to Giles wasn’t that bad. Neither was the discussion between
my mom and me. I’m thinking that it’s shooting for the moon to hope that the
third meeting I’m scheduled for tonight will go well. I didn’t get much of a
chance to see the guys today. We’re not in any of the same classes on Tuesdays
and Thursdays and I hid like a coward at lunchtime. Giles said he’d make sure
everyone knew about the Scooby meeting so I didn’t need to pass the word. I’m
grateful because I needed the past few hours to figure out what I’m going to
say.
Xander, Cordy, Willow, Oz and Giles are already there when I enter the library
with my mom. Everyone quiets down when they see her and the silence is starting
to become uncomfortable when Giles finally speaks up.
“Well, Mrs. Summers, I’m sure I speak for all of us here when I say welcome.”
“Mr. Giles?” Mom gets right down to business, “so you’re the man who puts my
little girl into dangerous situations that will probably end up killing her?”
Everything gets quiet again when Xander growls from the table and springs past
me. I realize too late that he’s got a stake in his hand and he’s headed
straight for Angel, who’s just entered the room.
tbc
Chapter 4
“Xander!” I panic when I realize I’m not fast enough to stop him. On the other
hand Angel is twice as far from the table as I am and he has plenty of time to
catch Xander’s arm and force him to drop the stake.
Xander starts yelling at Angel accusing him of being Angelus and coming to kill
us all when Giles’ voice interrupts him, “Angel! Let Xander go now! Xander! Sit
down and be quiet until we’ve had a chance to clear everything up! Angelus is in
possession of his soul and I daresay he will be harming no one tonight.”
“But. . .” Xander starts to protest when Giles swings around and glares at him.
I’ve never seen Giles look so scary before.
“I don’t understand, Xander.” Willow’s quiet voice floats up from the wheelchair
Angelus’ minions put her in. I can’t help but notice Angel hasn’t looked in her
direction since he walked into the library. “You know I was going to try the
soul restoration spell last night. You were supposed to tell Buffy to stall to
give me time.”
Shocked, I swing around to face Xander just in time to catch him trying to hide
a guilty look. “Is that true, Xander? Were you supposed to tell me Willow was
trying to restore Angel’s soul again? All I remember was you passing on her
message to kick his ass.”
“I never said. . .” Willow sputters in indignation before Xander interrupts her.
“I didn’t want you to be distracted when you went up against Evil Undead!”
“Enough!” Giles’ voice echoes like a gunshot through the room. Continuing in a
more reasonable tone, “Now, Buffy if you could review the events of last night’s
apocalypse?”
I enlighten the group about Spike’s truce, his efforts on Giles behalf (which
made Angel noticeably squirm), Whistler’s prophecy, the fight and Spike’s
dependability as well as his actions to save my life. By the time I get to the
part where Spike is sucked into Acathla my chest is tight and my eyes burn.
“That’s that part that confuses me, Giles.” I say “Whistler specifically said
that only Angel’s blood would close the portal if it was opened. Why was Spike
able to close it?”
“Well to be honest I’m not all that sure. . .” Giles gets out before Angel
interrupts with the first words he’s said all evening.
“It’s the same blood.”
“Huh? Still not so understandy here.”
“The same blood. Dru’s got my blood because I sired her and Spike’s got hers.
What I don’t understand is why Spike helped you in the first place.”
“Yeah, not something Angelus would ever consider, huh?” I blurt out before
thinking. Off Angel’s devastated look I quickly say “Oh Angel, I’m sorry. . .”
“Why are you sorry Buff?” Xander spits out angrily. “It’s not as if you’re
wrong; as Ms. Calendar discovered to her infinite regret.”
It’s Giles turn to blanch and I give Xander a dirty look that temporarily shuts
him up.
“Well,” Giles clears his throat, “lets continue. I understand that Buffy was
considered a fugitive by the police yesterday and I want to reassure everyone
that the matter has been taken care of. Willow, Xander and I gave brief
statements yesterday exonerating Buffy and all she needs to do is go down to the
station and give a statement yourself.” Giles turns to me, “I understand your
mother intends to take you tonight after we‘re done here, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m expected down there some time tomorrow to give a more thorough statement as
I believe are Willow, Xander and Cordelia. Is that so?”
There’s a chorus of affirmative responses.
“As for the dream you had last night, Buffy, I’ve researched the portal and
Acathla but all I could discover is that Acathla sends anyone who enters its
portal to a. . .” Giles looks down at some scribbled notes and quotes, “‘hell of
their own devising.’ Unfortunately that doesn’t actually give us any concrete
information on what could be happening with Spike right now. I assume the
passage implies that the hell differs from person to person depending upon what
that individual considers hell to be. If so, then only Spike can tell us how to
find his particular hell dimension. As he’s not available, we’re at an impasse
with regards to figuring out what the dream means. Hopefully it was just a
simple nightmare and won’t reoccur.”
“I hope you‘re right. I can do without a repeat of Lynch-o-rama!” I turn to
Angel, “What about Dru?” I admit. I’m curious what Angel did with his erstwhile
lover.
“She won’t bother you ever again, Buffy.” Angel replies with an earnest puppy
expression that would have melted my heart a few months ago. As it is I feel a
twinge of affection, but I’m still having trouble separating Angel from Angelus.
Maybe I would have had an easier time forgiving him if I’d had to send him to
hell to close the portal, but Spike took care of that. Or, to be honest,
Drusilla did. Either way, the fact remains that I don’t feel the same about
Angel as I did before he lost his soul and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to
feel that way about him again.
My reverie is interrupted by the most loathsome voice in existence.
“I thought I expelled you yesterday, Summers! What are you doing on
campus?”
“Expelled!?!?!” My mom’s voice has that sharp brittle quality that means I’m in
for it when I finally get home.
Oh shit! I totally forgot I was expelled! It says something about your life when
being expelled is the least upsetting thing that happens to you in a day. I turn
to Snyder and start to offer my most innocent smile when Giles speaks up.
“I’m sure you’re remembering incorrectly, Principal Snyder. After all, as I told
the police last night, it’s likely neither Willow nor I would be alive today if
it weren’t for Miss Summer’s intervention when we were being attacked. I’ll be
at the police department tomorrow where I’ll give a more detailed account of
Miss Summers bravery and if you want me to overlook the sad state of school
security that made the attack on us and Miss Kendra’s death possible, especially
when I’m speaking to the press that will most assuredly have gathered, then I
suspect you’ll not only reconsider Miss Summer’s expulsion you’ll agree she
deserve public commendation by the school.”
Snyder bristles like an impotent boar. “Don’t try your empty threats on me,
Rupert. You’ll find I’m no pushover.”
“Why I’m quite sure I have no idea what you are talking about. I assure you,”
Giles pulls himself up taller and the scary expression he aimed at Xander
earlier returns, “If I were to threaten you it would not be an empty one
and you would live to regret provoking my wrath.”
I’ll admit it’s fun watching Snyder visibly shrink away from Giles. He makes
one or two empty threats but the end result is that although I shouldn’t expect
any commendations in the near future; I’m free to return to school in the
morning. Come to think of it, if I had only waited a day before sicking Giles
on Snyder I could have had a three day weekend. Damn!
As soon as Snyder leaves the room I burst into laughter. “Way to go Scary
Giles!”
“Buffy, it’s getting late and we still need to get to the police station. Are
you almost through here?” I can tell my mom’s starting to reach the end of her
wig quotient for the day.
“Yeah, Mom, unless you still need us, Giles?”
“What? Oh. . . no. . . I think we’re done here for now. Please call me at once
if you experience any more odd dreams.”
“Will do!” I feel fairly good for a recently wanted, formerly expelled
seventeen year old until I see Angel hovering by the door. Crap! There’s no
way by him without an uncomfortable confrontation that I am so not in the
mood for.
“Buffy, can we talk?”
Sighing I turn to my mother, “Mom? Why don’t you go start the car and I’ll be
right out?”
“Okay Buffy, but don’t be long. Detective Stein requested that we be at the
station by 8:00.”
“I won’t.” I turn to Angel expectantly.
Angel looks back at the Scoobs uncomfortably. “Do you think we can go someplace
private?”
“I don’t really have time right now, Angel, what with the pressing police matter
I have to deal with.” Once again the sad puppy face breaks my resolve and I
sigh in defeat. “Why don’t I stop by the mansion tomorrow after school?”
“Alright.” Angel starts out the door before hesitating and turning back. “You
know I love you, don’t you Buffy?”
He catches me off guard and there’s a split second before I manage to pin a
smile on my face. “Yes, Angel. I know.”
Except I don’t, really. I’ve been questioning a lot of the conventional wisdom
I was taught regarding vampires since last night. I believe Spike loved Dru.
Why would he have done what he did last night if he didn’t love her. If
Spike was capable of loving without a soul then why wasn’t Angelus? If Angelus
was incapable of love did that mean that Angel isn’t capable of it either?
Unfortunately, I think my inner turmoil shows on my face and Angel sighs sadly
before turning back for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Buffy.”
“Yeah, see you then.”
Intense depression. Despair. Utter despair.
Something (someone?) I love has died and it’s all my fault. If I had only been
smarter or faster or luckier. If I hadn’t taken something for granted there
never would have been a threat. Someone, yes I’m sure it’s a someone, is gone
forever and there are a million ways I could have saved them.
Self disgust. I was given a mission. I made a promise and I’d be expected to
keep it. I deserve to have to stick around and keep it. They (she?)
would have wanted me to. I have to protect someone since I failed to protect
her. It’s no wonder I’m a failure I’m nothing. I’m no one. Everything I
once was has been taken away from me. I’m not even the pathetic (ineffectual,
feeble, low, useless, worthless) being I was before.
A brief moment of utter joy before happiness burns and scalds and becomes
torment. Even happiness is hell in its brevity.
She’s back but it’s worse than when she was dead. At least dead she couldn’t
look at me as if I were nothing. I am I am I am nothing how could I have hoped
she wouldn’t see that. Beneath her. . .beneath them. . .beneath everyone and
everything that at least knows its identity. Can’t be a monster (monster?);
can’t be a man (man?). Good only for one thing. One brief touch of heaven
before the rug is pulled beneath my feet (she liked the rug).
Confusion.
Does she care? (no spark) Could she love? (no trust) Confounded. Slip back
into old ways. Force the square through the round opening. Force.
Horror! Run away! Run forever! Run and get the spark she needs.
Pain! Fiery pain. . .self loathing. . .immolation. They put the spark in me.
Not enough - never enough. No love for me. Never love for me.
Laughter. . .bitter but pure. White hot burning like the sun taking the
bastards with me. We’ll all burn in hell together to see how it ends.
I wake up with tears streaming down my face and soaking my pillow. Depression
weighs my limbs down as if I were trapped under a mountain of pain that grows
exponentially with every moment. A sob escapes my throat and the bedroom door
opens as my mother rushes in.
“Buffy, honey, what’s wrong?”
I don’t know. I can’t think of anything I should be so upset about.
Sure Xander lied to me and Angel has become something I don’t understand but
neither event should cause this overwhelming despair.
“I don’t know” and I break into tears wrapped in my mother’s comforting arms.
After a few minutes I feel the weight lift. I give my mom a gentle squeeze and
pull back.
“I feel much better, though.”
“What was it that upset you so much?”
“I still don’t know, Mom, but I think I had another dream. It was bad.”
“Oh,” Mom nods understandingly. I wish she’d share her wisdom because I have
no idea what’s going on. I better report this to Giles.
“It’s time for school Buffy and if anything cures dream induced doldrums it’s
pancakes so get ready while I make breakfast.”
“Can I have funny shapes?”
My mom smiles back in the way that makes everything alright again, “Of
course.”
After reporting my dream to Giles I head to the mansion like a convict heads
towards the electric chair. At least Giles is in a good mood. Research makes
him happy and a mystery sends him into fits of joy. He hopes to have something
about the dreams by tomorrow. My footsteps slow as I approach the door.
Sigh. Once more into the breach. What! I read!
Angel is standing near the fireplace in standard brooding hero pose. I clear my
voice and he turns.
“Buffy. Come on in.”
“Whadya wanna talk about?” The bright smile on my face is so wide I think my
jaws will crack but I can’t seem to stop. I feel like the Joker. Angel seems
to pick up on my nervousness and he directs me to a new couch placed,
ironically, where Acathla stood two nights before. The realization makes my
stomach clench and I think I may lose my lunch. I sit down
“Buffy, I wanted to apologize for everything Angelus did. I still don’t
remember everything but what I do recall seems pretty bad.”
“It was.” I guess I should say more, but then I’m not the one who wanted this
conversation.
“I wanted to make sure you knew that I still love you very much.”
The smile finally drops off my face. My cheeks hurt and I can feel my eyes
start to water. “If you love me so much how come Angelus didn’t?”
Angel blinks in surprise, “Buffy, Angelus didn’t have a soul. Vampires can’t
love without a soul.”
“Spike could.” Tears are falling down my face and I’m starting to get angry.
“Spike loved Dru so much he made a deal with his mortal enemy and helped me
defeat Angelus. Spike even saved my life even though it wasn’t part of the
deal. How come Spike could love without a soul but Angelus couldn’t.”
I can see Angel’s starting to get angry as well. “What’s all this about
Spike!?!?! What was going on between you two while I was. . .”
“WHAT?!?!?! Exactly what are you accusing me of, Angel? Spike and I made a
truce so that he could get Drusilla away from you and so that I could save the
world from Acathla. There was nothing else going on! Where exactly do you get
off with this attitude after killing Ms. Calendar and trying to kill everyone
else I love?”
“Buffy, you have to know that wasn’t me. . .”
“Do I?” Tears slip off my chin and fall to the scorched floor. “Why do I have
to know it wasn’t you? Exactly what is a soul anyway? Why did you want
to hurt me so much if you love me? Why couldn’t you love me without the soul?
What’s wrong with me?!?!?!”
During my little freak out the place where my tears hit the floor start to
steam; then start to smoke. I stop my tirade and jump back in surprise when the
smoke bellows up into a swirling column which coalesces into a skeleton. A
roaring sound erupts from the swirling mass as it seems to grow muscle tissue
and skin. The roar increases in volume until it becomes a howl of pain as the
form becomes recognizable.
As the clamor dies down a naked and badly burned Spike falls to the floor
unconscious.
Sorry for the delay between updates. I run a part time business out of my
home and Summer is my crazy busy time. I'll update as often as possible, but
things won't settle down for me until September - when I promise updates will
once again become regular.
Chapter Five
Spike’s back. He’s back. How did he get here?!?!
He’s collapsed. If I hadn’t jumped onto the couch he’d be laying on my feet.
God! He looks terrible. I can’t see anything but his back, but that is scarred
and scorched. I carefully step over him and crouch down to see his face.
Luckily for my stomach it’s almost untouched. There’s a burn on his chin above
a chain attached to something under his body. I look up at Angel.
“What do we do now?”
Angel scoffs, “well, you could always stake him.”
That just sits wrong with me so I give Angel a dirty look. I roll Spike onto
his back. His torso and the front of his legs are scorched almost as badly as
his back. I look up at Angel, “Help me move him onto the couch.”
“You want me to put a naked, burned Spike on my new couch?!?!”
“Shut up, Angel, and just help me!”
Surprisingly he does. When we move Spike the chain around his neck slips off
and clunks to the floor. I pocket it to show to Giles and turn back to Angel.
“Do you have any medical supplies or water available so I can begin to clean
some of these out?”
“Buffy, I don’t understand why you don’t just stake him. He’s Spike! He’s an
evil soulless vampire!” Angel glares over at Spike and for a moment his eyes
flare in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something but promptly shuts it
again.
“Angel?”
His eyes focus back on me.
“First Aid kit?”
“Ummmm, yeah. I’ve got one in here.” Angel distractedly heads to a closet in a
hallway off the main fireplace coming back with a well supplied First Aid kit.
“I bought it yesterday in case you get hurt on patrol.”
“Thank you. If you could get me some water I’d appreciate it.” I lean down and
start to disinfect some of Spike’s more severe wounds.
Naked. It occurs to me again that Spike is naked. I desperately try to keep my
eyes above his belly button and fail miserably. Wow. My eyes dart back up to
his face as my cheeks flush. Yet another place that has been mercifully spared
the horrible burns suffered by the majority of his body; which is surprising
because it’s such a large target. At least in my relatively inexperienced
opinion.
Angel comes back with the water and I finish up my pathetic ministrations. It
doesn’t look like I helped much. Maybe if we can get some blood down his throat
he’ll heal better. I ask Angel if he has any to spare.
“For God’s sake, Buffy, why are you wasting so much time on him?” Angel’s
angry.
I’m not sure why but my temper flares as well. “He saved my life, Angel! He
saved me from you. Remember? And for his good deed he was sent to hell!
I felt what it was like for him! I felt his pain while he was in hell!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The dreams! The Slayer dreams! They were about Spike and what he was going
through while he was in hell and it was horrible!”
“You’re dreaming about him now?” Angel screams. When did our voices get
so loud?
Suddenly a loud growl erupts behind me. The next thing I know Spike is crouched
between Angel and me and I swear if he had fur on his neck it would be standing
straight up. I can’t believe Spike is trying to protect me from Angel again.
Spike sways back and forth growling at Angel and I just know one wrong
move made by any of us will end in disaster. Angel’s starting to look angrier
by the second and for a moment it looks like Angelus might be back. A whimper
escapes my throat and I grab Spike’s arm to pull him back a few steps with me.
As my hands close over Spike’s raw skin I realize my error and Spike yelps in
pain yanking his arm away from me. I swear I see a look of betrayal on his face
before he whirls around and runs out the door into the night.
Inexplicable guilt hits me in my gut and I gasp out Spike’s name in a fruitless
attempt to keep him from leaving but he’s gone before the word escapes my lips.
I turn back to Angel, who looks slightly less soulless, “I’m going after Spike.”
“Buffy! Wait!” But I’m out the door before Angel can continue.
Hours of searching and I’ve had no luck. Wherever Spike holed up it’s somewhere
I’m not familiar with. Despondent, I decide to head for home. Don’t ask me why
I’m so down in the dumps about not being able to find Spike. I don’t understand
it. If I weren’t so completely wiped I’d go over to Giles’ house and have him
figure it all out for me. As is it I think I’ll settle for a phone call.
As I approach my front door there’s a familiar tingly feeling in my abdomen.
Vampire approaching. Or wait. . .vampire stationary and slightly beneath me. A
little to the left and if I’m not wrong in my house! I run to the
backyard and throw open the storm cellar door. Once inside I stop short in
total astonishment. Curled up in a tiny, naked, unconscious ball against the
far wall is Spike. His burns look slightly better but I can tell it will be a
while before his skin is unmarked. Pity.
Huh? Did I just appreciate Spike’s skin? This is getting out of hand! Time to
get the bleached menace clothed ad out of the vicinity of my vulnerable mother.
I start up the stairs when the basement door opens and my mom appears with a set
of sweats, a blanket and a pillow in her hands.
“Mom! Get back up the stairs! It’s not safe down here right now!” I start to
panic as my imagination runs rampant with images of the wild Spike I saw earlier
at my mother’s throat.
“Don’t be silly Buffy. You’re here and if anything serious happens I’m sure
Spike will be able to help again even if he’s not exactly talkative right now.”
At some point the surprises will lose their effectiveness, I just know it. It’s
impossible to remain in a constant state of surprise. Isn’t it? “You
knew he was down here?”
“Of course I did, Honey. I helped him walk down here. He’s really hurt and he
was having trouble walking.”
“Mom? Splainy? Please?!?!?” I’m not happy about the level of desperation in my
voice. I feel myself long for the days when life was at least moderately
predictable.
“I heard a noise on the back porch and when I turned on the light I saw Spike
collapsed at the bottom of the steps. He looked so hurt I simply had to
help him. I managed to get him down here through the cellar door. It was the
closest and he seemed to feel most comfortable down here. He started to whine
and struggle when I tried to lead him up to the spare room. With the severity of
his burns I felt it was better to simply let him stay down here until I could
get some clothes on him.” She paused, frowning in concentration, “you know, I
think we have a cot down here somewhere. I’m fairly certain it came with us in
the move. Your father would certainly have had no use for it.”
“He didn’t try anything, did he? Didn’t try to hurt you or bite you?”
“Buffy, I don’t think he even fully understood I was there. Now help me with
these clothes. It’s dusty and dank down here and I’ll feel better knowing he
has something between him and the concrete floor. In the morning we’ll figure
out how to get him fed properly. How would one do that in Sunnydale?”
“Angel goes to the butcher shop and they bag blood for him or sometimes he gets
blood from the hospital.”
“Well I have no idea how we’d get blood out of a hospital, so I’ll drive over to
the butcher’s in the morning to make sure Spike has something nourishing when he
wakes up.”
“Mom, he’s a vampire. . .”
“None of that, young lady! You said yourself that he helped you twice and saved
your life. Now he needs your help and you owe him!”
I sighed. If I ever wanted to get some sleep tonight I’d better go
along. At least now that I’m home I can make sure Spike doesn’t get a chance to
hurt Mom.
Anger. Deep uncontrollable anger. He’s speaking but I don’t want to hear
what he’s trying to say so every time he opens his mouth I slam my fist or foot
in it. I’ve beaten his features off his face. Even his mother wouldn’t
recognize him now. Pride. I feel pride that I’ve been able to do this to him.
That he’d let me. He manages to crack one bloody swollen eye open and I
hesitate just long enough for him to speak.
“You always hurt the ones you love.”
Oh God! What have I done?!?!?!?!?
Look at him. He’s so trashed. I have a mission, though. I need to know if
we’re safe. I pretend I’m her. . .it. . .her. I dance over and offer to give
the information that he was beaten to keep quiet. He speaks and I realize he’s
allowed himself to be beaten for me. To save me pain.
“I couldn't live, her being in that much pain. I'd let Glory kill me first.
Nearly bloody did.”
My throat seizes as I struggle not to cry.
The battle is winding down and the monsters are almost gone. He’s paralyzed
inside a beam of bright white sunlight and I can see his skin start to smolder.
I start to cry and I grab his hand. I need to tell him something but he won’t
listen. I try to pull him out of the light but he won’t let me. He’s burning!
Burning for ME!
“No. You don’t. But thanks for saying it.”
I try to scream his name and FORCE him to follow me to safety but the scream is
strange and out of place. It wakes me up out of my dream. I’m shaking and
sobbing but I can tell everything will be okay. I’m not sure why. I try to
raise my hands to brush the tears from my face when I realize my left hand is
caught on something. I open my eyes and see that Spike is sleeping sitting
curled on the floor leaning against the side of my bed and he’s holding my
immobilized hand against his cheek. I’m floored when I comprehend that this is
where my feeling of wellbeing comes from.
tbc
Chapter Six
In a sleepy haze I notice that although the sweat pants remain, Spike is
shirtless. I guess the material was irritating his injuries. Luckily the burns
have healed to the point that only angry welts and scars remain. Hmmm. He’s got
a really nice chest. Spike twitches in his sleep and snorts into my palm.
A strange electric feeling shoots from my palm to my lower abdomen and warmth
floods between my legs. A surprised gasp escapes my lips as all the muscles in
my body contract in a massive shudder.
Spike’s eyes shoot open at the movement and I become conscious of the fact that
he’s been in game face since he reappeared in the mansion. I’m slightly
surprised that I hadn’t noticed before. I’m surprised again when I realize that
I like Spike’s game face. I really like it. A lot. He looks like a big
white panther when he’s vamped out.
My attention swings back to Spike as he sniffs the air and lets out a
growly-grumbly noise. His eyes catch mine and it feels like I’m being sucked
into his golden orbs. All of a sudden I can’t breathe or move as the noise he’s
making turns into a low purring sound. Without breaking eye contact Spike moves
with cat-like grace from his position on the floor to the space beside me on the
bed. I can feel my heart pounding so hard it’s going to leap out of my chest and
I can’t seem to draw enough air into my lungs. A low tingle runs through my
entire body and I desperately want to reach out and pull Spike against me. I
want to touch him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Somewhere in the back of my brain I can hear someone whimpering. It takes me a
few moments before I realize that it’s me. I’ve never felt like this before.
I’ve never been so out of control in my life. Oddly, I don’t care. All I can
think of is that I feel magnificent and I never want this feeling to end.
I stiffen as it occurs to me that this is how I felt during my dream when I was
beating Spike bloody in that dark alley. I stiffen and cry out.
At my cry Spike suddenly shifts into his human face and he lets out a sound
that’s almost frightened. His head ducks down to my chest and he starts to
shudder. I’m surprised when I realize he’s shaking in fear and seeking comfort
from me. My arms go around him and as I touch his skin something snaps inside
me.
The next thing I know I’ve flipped him over and I’m laying on top of him.
Somewhere along the line I’ve lost my nightie and I can feel every inch of him
rubbing at my core through his sweats and my thin panties. I rub my hands up
Spike’s bare chest between our bodies and suddenly Spike’s back in game face and
doing that purring thing again. I can feel his entire body vibrate against mine
and it’s driving me crazy. My nipples harden into peaks and I want. . . I want.
. . Oh God I don’t know what I want but if I don’t get it soon I’m going
to die.
It wasn’t like this when I lost my virginity. There was sweetness and softness
and it felt good but there was no wild loss of control. No throbbing,
swollen, needy wetness. Good thing I didn’t know what I was missing - or
actually - maybe if I had known what I was missing we could have avoided
the whole Angelus thing altogether.
Spike must have noticed my mind wandering because suddenly I’m flat on my back
and he’s on top of me. He’s grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck and he’s
pulled my head back. I vaguely try to recall what I’d been thinking about as his
eyes drop to my mouth and his head lowers towards mine. I can feel my lips swell
to meet his and my mouth opens automatically to welcome his tongue. Oh. He
tastes so good. My tongue darts out to wrestle with his as I try to capture more
of that wonderful taste. His tongue is bumpy, almost scratchy and the feeling of
it writhing against my tongue is making me shake uncontrollably.
There’s a nudge at my knees and then Spike’s between my legs. His hand slides
down my stomach to the waistband of my panties and the next thing I know they’re
gone. Oh goody! I can feel everything so much better now!
I frown as I realize there’s still a major barrier between me and what I want so
I rip at it until his sweats are nothing but a shredded mess and I’m able to
feel Spike’s skin against mine. Something long and hard and velvety slips
between my legs and rubs at my entrance. I gasp and arch up into it as it
brushes against my clit. Oh God! It’s Spike’s cock and I’ve never felt anything
so amazing before in my life!
Spike’s mouth moves down to my neck and his hands cup my breasts as he starts to
thrust with his hips rubbing back and forth against my clit. His palms move
deftly over my nipples and he starts roll the stiffened peaks between his
fingers and suddenly between his hands and his cock there’s this triangle of
sensation that’s taking over my body and growing and making me shake so hard
that I’m sobbing his name and arching my back and doing anything I can to
increase the friction. I arch my hips and Spike sinks inside of me in one long
thrust. I can feel him so deep that it feels like he’s pressing at the back of
my throat. I start to sob and my ankles twine together around his back as I
thrust hard up into his downward plunge. I’m sobbing and he’s growling and we’re
writhing together until everything explodes into fireworks and atoms and
electric currents and he collapses limply into my body.
A satiated smile curls my lips as I wrap my arms around him and fall back into
an exhausted slumber.
He’s kneeling in front of her and she’s never seen that particular expression
on his face before. So sincere. So honest. He leans forward. . .
“Look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I tell you that I love you,
it's not because I want you, or 'cause I can't have you -- it has nothing to do
with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try... I've seen your
strength, and your kindness, I've seen the best and the worst of you and I
understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are a hell of a
woman.”
Oh God, she loves him. No one has ever made her feel this whole; this pure. The
reflection of herself that she sees in his eyes is the most beautiful she’s ever
been. How could she have treated him so badly last year? How could she not have
seen him?
“I know you'll never love me.” She’s looking down at him from her living room
stairs, “I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man, and that's. .
.Get your stuff. I'll be here.”
She pauses. A feeling courses through her that she doesn’t want to identify. She
turns and heads up the stairs.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you. You know I do.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“I always want you.”
She wraps him around her like a protective shield and they sink down to the
floor in a haze of emotion. Suddenly the crypt door opens.
“Buffy?”
She doesn’t want to be interrupted. She grunts at the intrusion.
“Buffy?!?!?”
“What the hell is going on here?!?!?!” I wake up to Angel’s angry exclamation
and realize quickly that: one, I am naked and two, I am laying spread eagled on
top of another body.
Oh shit! What have I done?
Summary: The morning after the night before
Chapter Eight
“Bloody hell!”
I poke the mirror and the reflection pokes back. Damn! I’m a good looking bloke
but this is downright perplexing! I put on my fangs to make sure I still got
‘em. Check. Still fanged and dangerous. I wonder if there’ve been any other
developments. I look toward the open window. I’m lucky I woke up when I did. The
sun would have reached the bed in an hour or two and I’d be one crispy critter.
That is, if I’m still flammable.
Nothing for it then, I‘m just gonna have to run a little test. I edge along the
wall toward the window and stick my hand into the sunlight. Hurts like the
dickens but not as bad as I’d expect. I remember a time right after I was turned
where Angelus and I had us a little pissing contest with a ray of sunlight. What
I feel now isn’t nearly as painful as it was then, but it’s not comfortable by a
long shot. I pull my hand out long after it should have started to smolder.
Okay. Chances are I’m still a vampire; just one with a few modifications.
Improvements, really as I can’t say I hate having a reflection. To be honest,
even after all this time, it’s was little disconcerting to pass a mirror and not
see myself.
It’s time to regroup. What do I remember? Name’s Spike. I’m a vampire, or at
least close to. I’m in Sunnydale in the Slayer’s bedroom and I smell like I’ve
spent the last couple of days in a brothel. If it weren’t so completely daft I’d
think I’d had sex with the Slayer herself.
Wait a mo’. I look at the scrap of silk that’s caught between my toes and reach
down to snag it. Panties. Slayer panties.
My legs collapse beneath me and I plunk down on the floor when it actually sinks
in that I’ve had sex with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Suddenly I’m hard as a rock
and I can’t help but giggle uncontrollably. I’ve actually bagged my third
slayer, so to speak, and I can’t remember a damned thing about it. Irony is a
bitch.
A sound in the hallway has me scrambling for clothing. A ragged pair of knit
trousers lay on the floor near the panties and I manage to struggle into them
before the bedroom door opens.
“Spike? Are you in here?”
It’s Momma Slayer and she knows I’m in the house. I can tell by the obvious fact
that she’s got a cuppa blood in her hand. It’s cow, which I have to say I prefer
to pig any day of the week. Wait. When’s the last time I had animal blood? I
can’t remember any significant dietary changes in the past few months, but it
seems natural to me. In fact, the idea of drinking Momma Slayer instead of the
cup she’s got in her hands is kinda makin’ me sick to my stomach.
“Spike? Are you okay?”
She’s leaning over me like she’s concerned for me. What the bloody hell is going
on here?!?!?!
“Ummmm. . .yeah. I’m fine. I think. You’re the Slayer. . .ummm. . .Buffy’s mom?”
“Yes, we met the other night when you helped Buffy with that Alpaca statue. You
can call me Joyce. Are you hungry? I brought you some blood.”
I take the cup from her in a daze. Acathla was only the other night? It feels
like it was a lifetime ago; although I can’t remember what’s happened in the
intervening time to make it seem so long ago.
“What happened to me?”
A look of sympathy creeps across the lady’s face. “I’m not sure, Spike. Buffy
said that you were sucked into some kind of hell dimension but then you showed
up on my back porch last night looking like a French fry. You were pretty out of
it. I think you were in shock, but we were afraid to take you to a hospital
since. . .well, you know.” she actually blushes when she refers to my undead
status. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to someone so sweet. That I can
remember, that is.
Wait! Evil, undead vampire here! Where are the warm fuzzies coming from? I
should be eating Joyce, not discussing current events with her over a cuppa!
Suddenly I’m sick to my stomach again. I really don’t like the idea of
eating her.
Why?!?!?!?!
~~~~~
“Buffy, just to be clear, you’re sure Spike was wearing this chain when
he rematerialized?” Uh oh, Giles has his agitated ‘end of the world’ face on.
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, it appears the etching on the back of the stone’s setting is reminiscent
of an ancient cuneiform symbol that is alleged to be the original Mark of Cain.”
“Who’s Mark Kane and why does he cause your ‘I’m not happy’ face?”
Sigh, “Buffy, we really need to work on your Biblical history. The Mark of Cain
was a brand placed on the eldest son of Adam after he committed the first evil
act in the world by killing his brother, Abel, in a fit of jealousy. If I’m
correct this pendant is a ward protecting its wearer against that first evil.”
“Huh. I didn’t even know Spike had a brother. Imagine how old he
would be.”
“I’m not so sure that it means Spike has a brother so much as that he’s been in
contact, and survived some kind of altercation with the manifestation of that
first act of evil.”
“Could this altercation involve him burning to a crisp?”
“Quite possibly, why do you ask?”
“No reason, just part of one of my dreams. Also, it may be significant to
mention that the same symbol was burned into Spike’s chest and even though most
of his scars have faded that one is still pretty visible. Does this mean there’s
gonna be another apocalypse? We just finished dealing with the last one!”
“Well I certainly hope not, but there’s no telling. I need to look into the
demonic versions of the Book of Genesis before I can tell you anything
significant.”
“There are demonic versions of the Bible? Why?!?!”
“Well, certain ancient sources imply that all creatures that inhabited Earth
before Noah’s Flood were actually demons and that demon kind lost the protection
of God, or The Powers That Be, by their wanton lust for destruction. Some say
that the Flood is a metaphor for the Powers’ decision to banish the original
demons to another state of consciousness. If this is true then all Bibles
actually refer to demonkind in the chapters that predate the Flood.”
“Huh.” Why am I not surprised anymore?
Suddenly Giles’ front door crashes against the wall and a handful of evil
creatures wearing brown robes swarm into the room heading straight for Giles. I
grab the closest weapon, a table lamp, and jump between the evil monks and
Giles. Unfortunately, the lamp isn’t as sturdy as it looks and it smashes to
pieces after my first swing. I feel a sharp pain in my temple and blackness
swims across my vision. At least I took one of them out with me.
tbc
Chapter Nine
Ooooooohhhhh, my head is killing me. I open my eyes and realize that Giles has
dust bunnies under his couch. In a flash I’m on my feet and looking for the evil
monks. They’re gone, Giles’ front door is wide open and it looks like I’ve been
out for at least a couple of hours.
A weak groan comes from my left and Giles’ head pops up over the kitchen
counter. Relief sweeps through me as I realize that I’m not going to have to
live through Giles getting kidnapped twice in one week. Before I realize I’ve
moved I’m crying in Giles’ arms.
“I though they got you! I thought I failed you again!”
I feel a weak pat on my back as Giles shushes me, “There, there, no one’s been
hurt severely and you’ve never failed me. Please do remember, however, that I’m
recently recovering from a bout of broken ribs.”
I let go quickly and smile weakly into his eyes as I translate his stodginess
into ‘I love you and I’m glad you’re okay as well.’
Giles scans the room, “It looks like, whoever they were, they were after Spike’s
amulet.”
I didn’t know Liberace had a Goon Squad. Speaking of Spike, it’s late afternoon
and I think it’s time I got home to see how he’s doing. My mom’s due home soon
and I’d like to minimize the time he’s alone with her. Of course that
complicates patrolling tonight, but maybe I can convince him to follow along. I
resolve to ignore the excitement churning in my stomach at the thought of seeing
Spike again. Some mistakes should never be repeated. Much.
The house is quiet when I get home. I check the second floor and there’s no sign
Spike was ever there. Even my bed is made. Huh. Who knew feral vampires
understood the complexities of hospital corners.
I hit pay dirt when I reach the basement. Sitting curled up into a ball on the
old cot with his head on his knees is Spike wearing a faded old pair of blue
jeans and a half buttoned white Oxford that my dad left behind. They’re the ones
Mom wears when she cleans. His hair’s a mess, as if he’s been continually
running his fingers through it. I approach him slowly so that I don’t startle
him when he decides not to return the favor.
“What have you done to me, Slayer?”
I don’t exactly jump out of my shoes, but I now understand that phrase much
better than I ever did before.
“Spike!?!?” Uh oh. My voice broke. What does he remember? I’m blushing before I
can even try to get control of my emotions. Houston, we need a diversion!
“You’re talking. You must be feeling better.” If I blush any more my face is
going to pop from the pressure.
Spike raises his head and I realize there are tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Please, whatever it is you did to make me feel this way. Undo it. Please.”
I don’t think he’s referring to what I’m thinking about.
“What do you mean?”
“All I can see are their faces. Sometimes they’re so real I can see them in the
room with me. Please make it stop. I can’t take the guilt anymore!”
Faces? Whose faces? And guilt? “Spike, I’m gonna call Giles and we’ll get to the
bottom of this. I promise. In the mean time; why don’t you come upstairs with me
and I’ll fix you something to eat. Mom got you some blood this morning. It’s
from the butcher shop but it’ll have to do. I even have an idea of how long to
nuke it for to make it body temperature.”
“Two and a half minutes.” Spike blanches, “How do I know that? I’ve never cooked
blood before in my life! I think I’m going crazy!”
~~~~~
Slayer’s all confused. Whatever’s going on I’m not so sure she had anything to
do with it. Maybe it was the Watcher or the Poof. Wouldn’t put it past either of
them.
Things are better now that Buffy’s here. Buffy. When did I start thinking of her
as anything but the Slayer? Why do I get a warm feeling in my chest every time
she bends over me to see how I’m doing? God! I want her. From the scent I can
tell she returns the compliment. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling better. Too busy
being randy as a goat to feel anything negative. I’ll take it. Anything to quell
these feelings of remorse. At least I think it’s remorse. It’s been so long
since I felt anything like it that I can’t be sure what exactly it is I’m
feeling.
I’m sittin’ on the sofa. After Buffy brought me a cuppa she sat down across from
me perching herself on the coffee table. She’s leaning forward and suddenly our
eyes meet. Bloody buggering hell it’s like I’ve been caught in a bear trap. Her
eyes are so beautiful and expressive. I can’t drag mine away. Lord knows how
long we sit staring at each other. Feels like I’m drownin’ in the depths of her
sea green eyes.
I hear her heart speed up a bit and I can’t help leaning forward to get a better
listen. She leans slightly forward as well and her eyes drop to my mouth. A
magnetic pull starts between us and we’re drifting closer and closer. I can’t
fight it and I realize I don’t want to. I want to know what happened last night.
I want to experience it myself. I want . . . our lips meet and there’s an
explosion.
Next thing I know Slayer’s straddling my lap, head thrown back and my face is
buried in her sweet smelling neck. Never felt anything like this. She’s a wild
cat and she’s makin’ me just as wild, not that I had very far to travel. The
noises she makes. The whimpers, the sighs, the low throaty growls; I realize
they’re all for me. I’m makin’ her feel this way. I’m driving her crazy with
desire.
That thought pushes me over the edge and I feel the demon take over. A growl
erupts from my throat and I feel my face change. The small part of my brain that
retains conscious thought realizes that my game face may very well snap Buffy
out of whatever she’s feeling but when she pulls her head back and sees my face
she doesn’t react other than to dip her head back and kiss my fanged mouth. Lor’!
What she’s doin’ to me! I’ve never wanted anything they way I want her!
She’s layin’ beneath me on the couch now. Don’t remember how we got this way but
m‘not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She’s pullin’ at my shirt buttons
tryin’ to get them open. I save her the trouble and pull the thing over my head.
She’s pullin’ her shirt off as well. She’s so beautiful; she’s enough to make a
man convert. Hell, maybe that’s why I’ve been feelin’ so bad today. She must
have fucked my soul back into me last night. Bloody Hell! Her hands have slipped
inside my pants. My last cohesive though is if feelin’ this way means puttin’ up
with a soul it’s well worth the price.
~~~~~
For the second time today I wake up laying on the floor. This is starting to be
a disturbing trend. Spike shifts and grunts beside me and my body flushes as I
remember what we just did. I had sex with Spike. Again. Oh! Oh no! I sit up in
horror. What have I done!!!!
Spike opens his eyes and for a second I see fear then resignation flash though
them. Then I can’t see anything at all as my eyes water in dismay.
“Can’t say as that’s the reaction I expected, Slayer.”
“Oh Spike! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to . . .”
His eyes narrow in confusion, “Didn’t mean to what? Can’t say as I have any idea
what you should be apologizin’ for.”
“Your soul! I took your soul away!”
“My soul!”
“You were feeling guilt earlier! You must have had a soul but then we had sex
and now you’ve lost it!”
“Luv, if what’s wrong with me is caused by having a soul then I can reassure you
that I still have one.”
He stops speaking when a noise from the front door interrupts us. It’s a key in
the lock. Oh crap! My mom’s home!
tbc
I'm back from the Summer Circuit and business will be slowing down for the
season which means updates will be coming much more frequently and with more
regularity.
Chapter Ten
Thank god I wore a dress today so it doesn’t take me more than a second or two
for me to make myself look like I didn’t just have amazing sex on my living room
floor. It’s Spike I worry about as I look around to see how much of his
clothing he’s managed to don. He’s gone however, and along with the sound of
the front door opening I hear the faint click of the basement door easing shut.
Thank god for vamp speed . . . not something I ever imagined myself being
grateful for.
Mom comes into the room carrying a load of papers and way too many grocery
bags. I know there’s two of us but we just don’t eat that much in a few days.
I jump to take some of the heavier ones.
“Was there a sale at Ralph’s?”
“Oh, thank you for getting that. I’m beginning to see the up side of having a
super strong daughter.” Mom grunted as she shifted her remaining bags and
followed me into the kitchen, “Actually, I discovered this afternoon that I have
to make a buying trip to Paris and between stocking up on animal blood and
making sure that you had enough to eat for the next several days . . . well,
this is the result.”
“You’re going away?” I’m not so sure this is good news. Things are getting
weird and Mom’s presence would have had a dampening effect on whatever the hell
is going on between me and Spike. Yes, he’s hot and yes the sex so far has been
phenom, but I’ve never completely lost control around someone before. I’ve had
sex all of three times in my life, the last two in the space of 24 hours with
someone I could honestly say I hated before the events of the past week. I may
be seventeen, but I’m not a ho’ bag who has no control over her hormones.
“Oh, honey, I know the timing is bad, but it’s really unavoidable. I feel a
little better now that Spike is around to watch your back. He’s quite a nice
young man. I had a long conversation with him this afternoon when he woke up.
He seems very concerned for your welfare.”
“Spike?!?!?”
“Yes, Spike. I think he’s having a very rough time of it. Do you know he has
no memory of what happened to him between the time he fell through that Amalgam
statue and last night? It’s all very strange. He’s very polite for a vampire,
though. At least he’s much more polite than that Angel person. I have to say,
Buffy, that I still don’t like him very much. I know you explained about his
soul, but he seems like a very angry individual; even now that he’s supposedly
back to normal.”
I can feel my back going up. I may not be sure whether or not I still love
Angel, but I feel I should at least try to defend him. On the other hand I just
don’t have the energy so I let it drop.
“When will you be back?”
“I leave tonight on the red eye and I should be back by this time next week. I
know you still have a few days of school left. I trust you won’t decide to play
hooky while I’m gone?”
”Mom, I’ve been responsible for saving the world. Twice. I think I’m
responsible enough to make it to Biology Class.”
“Mom smiled, “I know. It’s just that now I know about your extracurricular
activities it’s much easier to worry about High School than whether or not
you’ll be killed while I’m gone.”
“I doubt that. It’s usually quiet in Sunnydale during the summer,” I say
crossing my fingers that this summer won’t be much different than last year when
I was in LA with Dad.
Mom pulls out a quart of blood, “Well, I need to pack. Why don’t you heat this
up for our guest while I run upstairs to get ready?”
~~~~~
After I get my kit back on I sit, stunned, on the edge of the cot Joyce provided
for me. I just had sex with the Slayer and not only was it the most phenomenal
thing that’s ever happened to me it also feels extremely familiar; one
more thing that doesn’t jive with my memories.
I wish I could remember what happened to me after I was sucked into that bloody
statue. I get the feeling it would explain a lot of the weirdness I’m currently
goin’ through.
Speaking of weirdness, what’s this about me having a soul! I’ll break the
witch’s neck if she’s magicked me into a brooding, pathetic excuse for a vampire
like Peaches! It can’t be true, but I realize it must be true as the
mere thought of hurting Red makes me feel ill.
What the bloody hell am I gonna do. I’d rather be dead than turn out like
Angelus, filthy and hiding in dark alleys, surviving on rats or worse.
Then there’s Buffy. My spirits lift as I think of the Slayer and how she makes
me feel. If having a soul means that I can spend more time near her then it may
very well be worthwhile. I feel alive in a way I haven’t since I met Dru in
that London alley.
Speaking of Dru, I wonder what’s become of her in the past few days. For the
first time I can remember, thinking of her doesn’t fill me with love and
purpose. I guess that one way trip she meant to send me on cured me of any
feeling I had for her.
Odd.
Then again, it’s not so very odd if you think about it. Once I met Dru I never
spared Cecily another thought. I never even bothered to go back and kill her
proper like Angelus wanted.
Sounds of movement from above break my reverie and I smell Buffy as she passes
the basement door. Once again I’m hard as a rock and it takes every ounce of
control I possess not to rush upstairs and make the Slayer mine again. I’m
surprised by the sound of a growl and realize it’s coming from me. I’ve changed
into game face without even realizing it. The demon urges me to take what’s
mine and I’m halfway up the stairs before I’m able to get myself under control.
I barely manage to force myself to walk back down the stairs and to the center
of the basement when I hear the basement door open and feel Buffy move down the
stairs. I’ve met her halfway down and am on top of her before I even realize
I’ve moved.
~~~~~
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Don’t stop! Keep touching me! Don’t ever
let go! Don’t ever stop!
Spike rolls over and we crash down to the basement floor; hips writhing together
like battling cobras. Spike’s broken my fall which means I get to be on top.
Yum!
Before I can enjoy the fruits of my position Spike’s flipped us over assuming
the dominant position. He grabs my hands in each of his and pushes them above
my head. He’s in game face. I can’t remember whether or not he was when I
entered the basement but he is now and a low growl erupts from his chest. The
vibrations drive me wild.
I lean up to kiss him but he ducks down instead grabbing the base of my neck in
his teeth, without breaking the growl. Somewhere deep in my mind I realize that
this is the exact wrong position for a Slayer to be in but I can’t seem to make
myself care. I arch my head baring my neck completely to him and wrap my legs
around his jutting hips. Again the nagging voice of reason pipes up that this
isn’t exactly the actions of someone who is not a ho’ bag but again I can’t seem
to make myself care.
A whimper escapes my lips and it seems to jolt Spike into action. Before I know
it he’s bitten me; hard enough to break skin but not hard enough to hurt.
Actually hurt is exactly the opposite word for how Spike’s bite makes me feel.
I feel him take a short draw from where his teeth have sunk in and electricity
jolts from my neck right down to the center of my being. Spike withdraws his
teeth and grinds out “Mine!” before lowering his head back to my neck to take a
second pull.
I hear a voice that sounds like mine whimper “Yes! Oh yes! Yours! All Yours.”
but I don’t pay much attention because my left hand has started to tingle like
it’s been thrust into a power socket.
Both Spike and I break apart slightly to look up at out hands as flames erupt
from where Spike holds my left hand in his right. Spike rocks back on his heels
pulling me up with him and our joined hands fall between us as we stare at the
cold, painless fire which encases but doesn’t spread from our joined appendages.
Chapter Eleven
Spike rocks back on his heels pulling me up with him and our joined hands
fall between us as we stare at the cold, painless fire which encases but doesn’t
spread from our joined appendages.
Bloody Hell. I’m on fire but I’m not burning up. I try to break contact with the
Slayer’s hand but I can’t seem to move. Uh oh. There’s a warmth traveling out of
where we’re joined and it looks like I’m gonna end up vampire flambé after all.
The heat builds to an excruciating level and it’s all I can do not to scream. I
close my eyes and wait for the end as the feeling of heated pressure grows. I
think I might explode from it all. I hope Buffy doesn’t get hurt in the process.
I open my mouth to try to warn her to get as low as possible when I hear her
speak in awed tones.
“Spike?”
Next thing I know my eyes’re blown open and my head’s forced back like I’m an
exploding champagne bottle as the pressure that’s been building in me expels
itself from every orifice I possess. The room grows white. This is the end of my
run I guess.
Top o’ the world, Ma!
~~~~~
The tingle grows as I stare at the flames that surround our joined hands. A
memory of a memory nibbles at the back of my brain but I set it aside as the
tingle turns into a strange leaking feeling. Spike seems to be drawing all my
body heat into him through our hands. Instead of getting cold, however, I feel
like I’m sunbathing. As if my body is compensating by producing more heat. A
lot more beat
My heart starts to beat faster and I start to pant. I’m getting more and more
excited as the moments tick by. Am I going to orgasm? I find the energy to focus
my eyes on Spike. His heads down and it looks like he’s in pain. He’s also
starting to glow.
Weird.
Gorgeous.
“Spike?”
Suddenly Spike’s head spasms back and light shoots out of his open mouth and
eyes. He looks like a radioactive disco ball as he lights the entire room with
his inner fire. I have time to think that I’ve never seen anything more
beautiful in my life before I lose consciousness.
~~~~~
I’m starkers. It’s the first thing I’m aware of when I come to. I don’t open my
eyes yet. I’m afraid of what I’ll see. Never was one for hell. Always preferred
the mortal plane if you get my meaning. Don’t want to know if I’m alive or dead
yet.
Next thing I’m aware of is that not only am I naked, but there’s a naked body
laying on top of me. It’s Buffy. Great. I’m in hell and I’ve got an
erection. Nothing good can come of this.
‘Course, what’s the Slayer doing in hell?
I decide there’s nothing to it and crack open an eye. We’re still in the
basement. The room’s walls are scorched and neither of us survived clothing
intact, but from what I can tell from Buffy’s vitals we’re both alive and
unharmed.
I feel like I just had the longest, hardest, most satisfying sexual encounter in
my existence and we never even got around to lowering our zippers when Buffy
came down the stairs.
Wait a mo’. I’ve got a naked Buffy on top of me and I’m not in hell.
Something’s got to be done about this.
~~~~~
Kissage.
Yummy kissage.
I come to and realize that Spike’s conscious and is trying to wake me up with
slow wet kisses all over my face. My heart starts to beat quickly again. Let’s
not mention the panting. I feel good all over and it’s not just from the Spike
kissage.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, luv?”
“What just happened?”
“Dunno, luv. Think about it later.”
Oh...oh...his hand’s in my favorite place, “’kay.”
“Luv?”
“Yeah, Spike?”
“What about your mum?”
“She left for Paris for a week. She’d have said goodbye, but she was in a real
rush not to miss her flight.” Tired of talking I reach down and grab hold of
Spike’s most impressive feature.
“Aughh...good on that.”
We stop speaking for quite a while.
I have no idea how long Spike and I have been having fun together when I hear a
knock on the front door. We’ve been all over the house, aside from my mom’s room
since that’s just creepy, and we’ve recently come to rest on the living room
floor. I do know that I have no idea where my clothes are. Since the explosion
that burned away everything we were wearing neither of us has had the
opportunity or desire to get dressed.
“Hold on!” I shout at the door as I rush upstairs to get some clothes. “Spike!
Come on!”
We get to my room and I thrust some more sweats at Spike as I grab the easiest
thing I own and throw it over myself. It’s a frumpy old blue floral dress I
haven’t worn since we came to Sunnydale. It makes me look like I should be
pushing copies of The Watchtower.
I leave Spike to finish getting dressed and rush to open the front door.
“Willow! What’s up?” I plaster the biggest, I have not been having sex all over
my house for God knows how long, smile on my face as I can muster as I usher her
into the living room. I hope the place doesn’t reek.
“What do you mean ‘What’s up?’ Where have you been? Are you sick? How
come no one’s answering the phone?”
I glance guiltily at the phone which was knocked across the room and off the
hook some time ago.
“I’m not sick. Why would you think I’m sick?”
“Well you haven’t been to school in three days. I assumed the only reason your
mom would let you stay home from school is if you were sick. Oh,” she continues
on in a stage whisper, “you’re not cutting are you?”
“Willow, what are you talking about? My Mom left for France earlier today and
it’s the weekend. School doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
Willow looks at me like I just sprouted another head and started singing show
tunes.
“Buffy. It’s Wednesday.”
Huh?
tbc
Chapter Twelve
“What are you talking about, Willow?”
Willow looks like she wants to take my temperature. “Buffy, it’s Wednesday.
You’ve missed three days of school. Giles is worried sick!
There’s a noise as Spike comes down the stairs and enters the living room.
“Red.”
Willow’s eyes get very big and she looks like she wants to bolt. I
realize I’m proud of her when she takes a deep shaky breath and remains where
she stands.
“Spike.”
‘kay, that was definitely a squeak, but points for not running away from the big
bad vampire you’ve only heard was good by hearsay.
My heart starts to race as my body becomes aware that Spike’s in the room. I
have to make a conscious effort not to run over to him and drag his shirt back
off. My breath catches at the idea and I actually take a step towards him when
I realize Willow is still in the room.
Total weirdness. What’s going on with me that I was actually thinking of
making out with Spike with my friend in the room? That I’m still
thinking about making out with Spike. That I can’t stop thinking about
making out with Spike?
My breathing quickens and I notice that Spike’s staring at me and struggling
with himself as well.
Something’s not right, here.
I look at Willow, who’s noticed the strain Spike and I are under.
“Buffy? Are you okay?”
“I think we need to go to the library.”
“So this strange attraction you feel towards Spike started after he returned
from the dimension Acathla sent him to?” Giles has cleaned his glasses so many
times during this conversation so far that I’d be surprised if he has any lenses
left.
“Well...” how do you tell your watcher that you’ve always been attracted to your
major nemesis but not as strongly as in recent days?
“Let’s say that any attraction I felt was nowhere near as intense as it
is now.”
Spike actually preens which is sorta annoying. It makes me want to kiss him.
Of course I’ve recently learned that Spike grunting, breathing, scratching his
ear, picking at his nail polish or pretending to belch also makes me want to
kiss him. Let’s not go into what his smiling makes me want to do. Really.
Let’s not.
Willow looks at me askance, “Does that mean that you were hot for Spike when I
was locked in that closet with Cordelia on Parent Teacher Night?”
I’d give her an apologetic look if it was possible to tear my eyes away from
Spike’s.
Giles sighs once he realizes all attention has drifted away from him yet again.
He’s been sighing a lot this evening. “Let’s go over everything again. You and
Spike have been intimate,” Giles blanches at the idea, “how many times since
he’s reappeared?”
Spike snorts and I give him a dirty look even though it makes me want to run my
hands under his shirt. I make a conscious effort to answer Giles’ question. “I
don’t know ... somewhere around ... maybe ... 75 times?”
Spike grins and nods in agreement. My mouth waters and I start to twitch.
“Dear Lord!” And the glasses snap in two which makes me giggle. “Do you have
any idea how long you were at it during your last, well ... that is to say ...
interlude?”
“Well, Mom left on Sunday so I guess it’s been since then.” I can’t seem to sit
still in my seat.
“Buffy, please attempt to refrain from squirming. You say that Sunday night was
also the night you both lost consciousness?”
“Uh huh.”
“How long do you think you remained in an unconscious state?”
“Not very. Mom asked me to heat up some blood for Spike; which I did right
after she left. I went downstairs to tell him it was ready and it was still
warm and in the same place I left it on the kitchen counter when we came back
upstairs after ... ummm ... after we ... well, you know.”
“Yes, I’ll thank you to refrain from explicit detail.”
“Oi, I wouldn’t mind rehashing some of the details.” Spike speaks for the first
time since we got here and it makes my breath stop.
“Spike, please. By my calculations, then you’ve been intimate 75 times during
the last 72 hours. That’s more than once an hour, every hour for the past three
days. That’s simply impossible.”
“Not for vampires.” Spike wraps his tongue over his teeth and grins wolfishly.
I’m out of my seat and straddling his lap before anyone can blink.
Finally. I’m kissing Spike again and everything feels back to normal. I
don’t like not being able to touch him. It makes me feel all funny and unhappy
inside. Spike growls, thrusting his tongue down my throat and I think I hear
voices but I decide to dismiss them. I’ve been very patient and it’s
time for Spike kissage now.
~~~~~
Slayer may not realize it but we’re under some pretty strong mojo. I don’t
understand where the feeling that Buffy and I have been intimate before comes
from but I’m also very much aware that it was never like this. I
know it was spectacular, earth shattering and more than likely the best I ever
had in my entire existence but it was never so strong that we couldn’t keep our
hands off each other even with conscious effort.
I hear Giles and the witch discussing us in the background. I decide if they
come up with anything truly important they’ll interrupt us to let us know so
it’s safe to keep snoggin’ my girl. The witch sounds excited ... you know ...
tha’;s another thing. Why do I keep referring to red as ‘The Witch’?
Yeah, she restored Angel’s soul, but as far as I know that’s the only spell
she’s ever performed. Why do I get the feeling that she’s truly scary and a
force to be reckoned with? I’ll have to try to remember to ask Buffy later.
I can hear Willow’s voice raised in fear. Something’s goin’ on in the room and
I’m just about to quirk an eye to get a look see when the hairs on the back of
my neck stand up and I hear the growl of a furious vampire.
The next thing I know, Buffy’s yanked off my lap, causing me to topple over in
my chair.
I look up to see the Slayer struggling out of Angelus’ grasp as he glares at me.
“Spike!”
tbc
Chapter Thirteen
“Spike!”
My face changes and I can feel a growl erupt from my chest before I even
register what’s goin’ on. Damned Angelus is pulling at my girl trying to take
her from me. I’m about to leap for his throat when the most delicious thing
I’ve ever seen happens.
My Slayer winds up and delivers a Buffy Special right to Peaches’ nose. She’s
back in my arms before his blood spurts. It’s not enough, though. It’s time
Peaches learns not to touch what’s not his. I may have had to take his shite
back in the day and I may have had to put up with him and Dru’s antics when I
was trapped in the chair, but no more. Never again.
With a roar I leap at him with the intention of permanently wiping that hurt
puppy look he’s shooting my Slayer off his face. My first punch rocks his head
back and breaks skin. I feel an odd flash in my brain and my chest burns for a
mo’ but it’s not enough to shock me out of my blood rage.
We trade blows for a few and suddenly my world goes blurry and fades to black.
The last thing I see is a furious Angelus standing over me before I lose
consciousness completely.
~~~~~
Hey! Where’d my Spike kisses go!
I see him laying on the library floor where he’s fallen out of the chair we were
sitting in. He’s got a look of pure fury on his face aimed at whoever or
whatever it is that’s pulling me out of his grasp.
“Spike!” I hear a familiar voice grate out next to my shoulder. Great. It’s
Angel. I guess this wasn’t the best way for him to find out about Spike and me,
but isn’t he overreacting just a tiny bit?
“Let me go!” I grunt as I try to shrug out of his grasp.
“Not if you’re just going to go back to touching that thing!” Angel
indicates Spike.
Okay. Now I’m mad. Did I ever once insult Angel’s choice in women to
his face? I mean, come on, Darla and Dru? He couldn’t have given me more
ammunition if he’d loaded me a gun! Did I use it? No. How dare he insult
Spike when I was so painfully silent about those two. . .
I cold cock him before I even realize I made a fist.
On the up side Angel’s surprised enough to let my arm go and I hurry back to
Spike’s side. Unfortunately the angry growl Spike’s been emitting since Angel
pulled me away has turned into a roar of rage and he’s past me and on top of
Angel before I can stop him.
Spike’s fist lands hard on Angel’s jaw and suddenly the room is bathed in light
as if someone set of a flashbulb. Spike’s shirt flashes into flame over his
left pectoral and a similar flame erupts from Angel’s cheek where Spike’s first
blow landed. I can see a funny mark where a bruise should be but my attention
is drawn away as the two furious vampires begin to battle in earnest.
Over my shoulder I hear Giles swear. I don’t really know what to do. I want to
break up the fight, but unless it swings too hard in one vamp’s favor any
interruption I cause may do more damage than good.
I hear the crack of a tranquilizer gun from where Giles and Willow were standing
and Spike falls to the ground out cold. I’m furious that Giles would sabotage
Spike that way and I’m about to run over to pull Angel away from where he’s
beating on Spike’s unconscious body when the tranq gun cracks again and Angel
falls down next to Spike.
“Quickly, Buffy, before the anesthetic wears off, lock Angel in the book
depository. We need to make sure that Spike and Angel cannot, under any
circumstances, hurt each other.”
“Color me a peppy shade of confused, Giles, but that’s the last thing I ever
thought I’d hear you say.”
“It’s the Mark,” Giles sighed and I can just tell he wishes he had glasses to
clean right now. “If you look carefully I’m betting you’ll see it either
transferred itself from Spike to Angel or it’s duplicated itself. Check Spike’s
Mark to see if it’s still there while I confirm the Mark that now seems to be on
Angel’s cheek. I daresay we may be in more danger than I originally thought.”
I pull Spike’s sweat shirt up to reveal the odd shaped scar, still present on
his chest. “It’s still here, Giles.”
“And it seems Angel has spawned a Mark of Cain as well. On the one hand certain
perplexing things are more understandable than they were before; on the other
everything is now much more complicated.
“Willow, please hand me the roll of parchment on the corner of the table.
Buffy, please stay by Spike’s side and make sure, when he regains consciousness,
that he cannot hurt Angel in any way.”
Grinning I sit on the floor and cradle Spike’s head in my lap. I love it when
Giles gives me the fun jobs. I brush Spike’s hair out of his face, surprised at
how soft it is. Since his reappearance he’s had no access to whatever it is he
uses to plaster his hair against his scalp and it’s been curling around his head
like a dandelion for the past several days. I like it. I like it a lot.
“It seems we now have the answer to our earlier question as to why you’ve
suddenly developed such a strong attraction to Spike.”
I bristle at this comment. Giles is going to minimize my feelings and he’s just
wrong!
“I’ve been researching the possibility that the first evil act in the world, the
killing of Abel by his brother Cain in a jealous rage, may have manifested
itself into a conscious being. Something not quite a god, yet not a demon
either. It seems I was right. Whatever this “First Evil” is it appears it has
a vested interest in making sure that Spike and Angel kill each other. Quite
possibly if it recreates the situation that created it, it can strengthen its
hold in this world; possibly even manifesting itself physically.
“That would explain why you and Spike can’t seem to stay away from each other.
In order to produce a psychotic jealousy between the entities chosen victims,
Spike and Angel, it created a situation where you would chose one over the
other.
“The only remaining question is; why did it choose these particular vampires?
Angel, I could understand. He has a soul and an evil entity gains power by
corrupting a human soul, but why Spike?”
I look at Giles confused, “Spike has a soul, too.”
“What!?!”
“Didn’t I tell you? Since he got back from Acathla he’s had a soul. At least
that’s what I assumed once he told me how he couldn’t stop feeling remorse and
guilt.”
“Well, it’s now evident that we have a rather urgent need to find out exactly
what happened to Spike between the time he disappeared into Acathla and the time
he reappeared.”
Willow’s voice interrupts nervously, “Giles, I think Angel is waking up.”
That’s when I feel Spike stir against my lap.
tbc