~Title: Reflections of the Big Bad
~Author: LuckyStarz
~Email: spikeslove15@yahoo.com
~Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, just the story.
~Summary: Set mid S-6. Spike POV. Alone in his crypt, Spike thinks about the Slayer, and gets a surprise visit....
~Pairings: Buffy/Spike
~Category: Romance/Drama
~Spoilers: Up through mid S-6
~Rating: PG-13
~A/N: This is a one-shot fic. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while, and after finishing Snowflakes of Prophecy I decided it was time to write it down. Also, most of the quotes in this story have been taken from School Hard, but some may have been from a few different episodes. Anyway, all reviews are welcome!! :)
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Grabbing the mug of blood from the counter, I flopped down in my comfy armchair. The telly was on and Passions was just about to start. I never missed an episode. Well, I never used to. Not till *she* came.
She had a way of changing things. To this day, I don’t know how she did it. Changed me, I mean. I used to be something. I used to be feared. I walked the streets of this pathetic little town, and people would scream. God, I loved that sound. Was like music to my ears.
Then *she* came. She kicked my ass up and down the street, and I *still* couldn’t get her out of my head. She wasn’t like the other Slayers--somethin’ made her different. I learned pretty damn quick that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to get her out of my mind.
I remember the first time I ever saw her. Dru and I had just come home, and I was lookin’ for a bit of sport. The Anointed One was tryin’ to find some big bad to take care of the Slayer for him, so I volunteered. I wasn’t worried--I’d killed two Slayers already, and I was barely 200.
Flashback:
The Bronze was a favorite place of mine. Dark, crowded, and home of the best buffalo wings I’d ever had. I walked in that night and immediately knew she was there. The scent of power was so thick in the air, it was almost maddening. I made my way through the throng of people, not sure what to look for, but knowing I’d find her.
The mass of writhing bodies parted, and I could see the dance floor clearly. My eyes were drawn to a petite blonde in a halter top. She was dancing with two of her chums, completely unaware of me. I stood transfixed, watching her body sway to the rhythm. As my eyes passed down the length of her, my imagination wandered. I visualized her lithe little body underneath mine, her hips arching up and her head thrown back. I saw my head dipping toward her neck, lightly skimming her flesh with my teeth. And then I sank my fangs into her.
The vision faded, and I was brought back to the present. I turned away from her and began to set my plan in motion.
My instincts told me she was the girl I was seeking, but I had to be sure. I returned to the dance floor and asked the nearest person where the phone was. “Some big guy out there’s trying to bite someone,” I shouted over the music. A smile curved my lips as I watched her dash out of the club.
I stood in the shadows, my eyes fixed on the small girl as she sparred with my companion. She was agile and resourceful, and the more I watched her, the more excited I became. I wondered what it would be like to fight with her, and that train of thought soon led me to dangerous territory.
She was beneath me again, struggling to free herself from my grasp. I held her wrists above her head with one hand, while my other hand slowly trailed down her body. She strained against me, panting with the effort. I could feel her muscles ripple beneath my hands with every move she made. I let her wrists go and grabbed her hips roughly with both hands, pulling her against me. Her legs wrapped around my middle, and I bent my head down to kiss her.
Suddenly I found myself on my back. She had somehow managed to flip me over, and was now sitting on my stomach. I chuckled. “Didn’t know you liked it rough, luv.”
She leaned down, spreading her palms over my chest. Her hair fell around my face, and I breathed in the sweet scent of it. An evil smile slowly curved her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, and...
“Spike, give me a hand!”
The voice of my companion broke through my reverie. I blinked and he turned to dust. A smile touched my lips, and I approached her with applause. I commended her on a job well done and told her she would find out who I was on Saturday.
“What happens on Saturday?” she asked me.
“I kill you,” I replied. And with that said, I went on my merry way home.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I took a sip from the mug. It amazed how much of that first meeting stuck out in my mind. I could clearly remember every single thing I’d thought that night. Guess it just goes to show how good and proper she messed me up.
There were many encounters with Buffy after that. Most were the typical vampire-meets-Slayer routine where I tried to kill her. But there was one I remember when I actually went seeking her help.
Angel had gone all “Grrr!” and decided to come home. At first, Dru and I were thrilled. With Angelus on our side, we might actually have a chance at killing the Slayer. I’d forgotten the intimate relationship my grand-sire and Dru used to have, however. Now that Angelus was back, it seemed he intended to not only destroy Buffy but to destroy the happy home that Dru and I had made.
Fed up with their continual flirting, I went to the Slayer and proposed a trade: if she let Dru and I skip town, I’d help her stop Angelus from awakening Acathla. It took a bit of persuading to convince her, but the deal was finally made.
In the end, good prevailed, just like it always does. Drusilla and I left Sunnyhell and the Slayer for good...or so I had hoped.
My plan had been flawless. Not only would it reunite Dru and I, but it would also get us far away from the Slayer. With Buffy out of sight, I could finally stop thinking ‘bout her and get back to my evil ways. But my evil apparently wasn’t good enough for Dru. She left me, claiming I was all covered with the Slayer. She was right of course, insane though she was. Even on the other side of the planet, my head still buzzed with thoughts of Buffy.
So, I did the only thing I could do--I went back to Sunnydale. I was determined to finally rid myself of the Slayer. Unfortunately, things just didn’t want to go my way.
First was the chip, which completely prevented me from hurting all humans. Any attacks I’d planned on the Slayer were quickly squashed. Seemed the only thing for me to do after that was help Buffy and her gang of Scoobies. The chip made it impossible to kill humans, but it still left me the ability to destroy demons. So I reluctantly joined the good fight, telling myself it was only a matter of time until the chip was out and I could kill the girl.
Working side by side with the Slayer really screwed up my emotions. I had dreams ‘bout her, found myself stealing bits of her clothing, covered my walls with sketches of her, and even had a BuffyBot built. I was slowly going insane, lurking outside her window nearly every night, and I finally had to admit that I was completely in love with her.
Of course, admitting it to *myself* was one thing; telling the object of my affection was quite another. Eventually I got the stones, and even though I had been expecting the reaction she gave, it still stung. ‘S a good thing I was never one to give up easily.
I continually made my feelings for her known, and she continually shot me down. She wasn’t ready to believe I loved her, but she knew that somehow I had changed.
The night she died was easily the worst night I have ever experienced. She fought so hard and so bravely, and if I had just been a little faster, I could have saved her. I did save her, in my dreams every night after that.
I’d made a promise to her, and as hard as it was to move on, I had to keep going. I’d promised to look after Dawn, and I didn’t intend to let Buffy down again. I worked side by side with the Scoobies, fighting the forces of evil and saving the world, and I did it all knowing that she was watching me. I felt some small semblance of hope that she would be proud of me for keeping my promise.
When they brought her back, I didn’t know how to feel. Half of me was exhilarated at seeing her again, but the other half felt the pang of guilt that she had been happy where she was. I hadn’t expected her to confide in me, but I was glad to know that she could trust me.
That first night she spent with me was a revelation. It confirmed not only my love for her but also her need for me. She felt dead inside, and being with me somehow made her feel alive. At first, I had been delighted. She finally seemed to be opening up to me, letting me in so I could see her heart. But the door quickly slammed shut in my face. She only wanted what I had to give if it meant she didn’t have to give up something in return.
For a while I made myself believe that whatever she offered me was good enough. I was willing to take even the smallest crumb of affection from her.
Soon the emptiness in my un-dead heart was killing me. It was getting harder to just be around her, knowing that I couldn’t have all of her.
Yet I still stay, believing that some part of her loves me, and hoping that someday, she’ll recognize it.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I sat up straighter. She was near; I could smell her. She had just finished patrolling and was idly making her way toward my crypt. I closed my eyes and listened to her footsteps. She reached my door and stood still, debating whether or not to come inside. I could almost hear the gears churning in her head. I held my breath and waited.
Cautiously she opened the door and peered inside. I heard her heart thumping away in her chest and opened my eyes. My back was to her, but I could feel her every movement. She came further inside, closing the door softly behind her, and paused, unsure what to do next.
I stood, clicking off the telly and grabbing the mug of blood. Still keeping my back to her, I moved to the refrigerator and put the cup inside. I felt her eyes on my back, watching me carefully. Digging inside my duster, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I lit one and exhaled a cloud of smoke. The tension in the room was almost palpable.
“Hey,” Buffy said, beginning to regain her courage. She took a few steps forward, resting her hands on the top of my armchair.
I remained silent, afraid that if I spoke, she would turn and run. Instead, I took a drag off the cigarette.
“Spike?” Uncertainty filled her voice. She headed toward me, her boots making sharp clicking sounds on the hard floor.
I heard her approaching, and my back stiffened. Why the hell was I so nervous? She’d come to see me before. Why was this time any different?
Her hand gently rested on my shoulder. “Spike, look at me.”
I never could resist her voice. I turned around and stared into her face. Bright hazel eyes stared back at me, and she smiled. Her hands came up and pushed my duster to the floor. I watched it pool at my feet, and she rose on her tiptoes.
A growl rumbled up from my chest as her lips covered mine in a heated kiss. I faintly heard the buttons being ripped off my shirt, and then her hands were on my stomach. I broke away from her with a gasp. “God, Buffy, I love you,” I murmured.
She smiled sweetly but didn’t say a word.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
~The End~
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