"My Thing"
By; Foolinq Love
Love never really was my thing.
Sure, I had felt that with her, but she spat upon me like the dirt I used to be. She scoffed at my poetry. At the person I was pretending to be. At the person I was on the inside. At my soul. At my art. At all I had worked for to give her. But most of all, she scoffed at me. I couldn't stand it. That feeling. You know the feeling where your soul breaks into a million pieces and then, poof, it's gone? Or that aching, burning, sour feeling at your heart? Yeah, that's what it was. Heart burn more or less, but much, much worse. A thousand knifes piercing through my skin could never hurt so much. Or even the shock that soddin' chip gave me when I tried to kill. Nothing could compare to what I felt as she said those words and walked away.
Then, came Drusilla. Sure, she was beautiful and powerful, but it wasn't what I needed. Like when you have the chicken pox, and you scratch; it feels better, but you know you shouldn't. That's what it was. It was like her love was scratching my heart when all it needed was time to scab over and heal. It was infatuation and lust, everything I didn't need, but I took. It felt good. Grand almost. Nothing like what that first wench served me. But the moment she left, it burned. Not like the first time. No. Being a cold-blooded killer, I couldn't feel that again. It just hurt. Like when your grandmother you barely know passes away, it hurts. But time moves on and you get over it. At least I did.
Harmony. It was a past time. I got bored and lonely. I needed someone there to fill my sexual needs. Ditzy whore. I'm sure she's out at some brothel making a good living. Or possibly giving that Riley Finn a good bite job now and then. She would have enjoyed that. As long as he paid her with unicorn statues, she'd be more than willing. Ha! I'm appalled at my decision to do things with her. Making her prance around as Buffy with a stake and making her dress like Buffy. Once I even called out Buffy's name during "happy time." She was only a silly teen that knew nothing.
As you can tell, love was something that didn't like my presence or me for that matter. But it sure nipped me in the bud right where I wanted it least. It's all love's fault for my obsession with the Slayer. If it weren't for love, I would be with Drusilla right now. In Africa making love in a tent. But no, love drove me back to Sunnydale, even though I didn't know it yet. I knew nothing except that Drusilla was a goddess and I was her big bad. Ah yes, those were the great naïve days of my past.
Now, love has me doing jumping jacks for that Slayer and her pals. If Buffy told me to wear a dress and parade around town in sunlight, I would. I'm whipped. I'm chained. Oh yes, I'm under her control.
Opening my eyes, I saw her lying next to me. She looks peaceful when she finally takes a break and sleeps. I smiled down at her, softly kissing her forehead. Her movements shook golden tresses and I drew back. Her eyes opened. Those sparkling, emerald orbs gazed lovingly against my figure. A smile appeared on her dry tiers. I went to speak, but I was shushed by her glance to the window and then to the clock. She turned to me, her eyes fuming. "It's happening isn't it? And you let me sleep?" She began to sit up, but I pushed her down. She couldn't stand up and face the end of the world now.
"No Buffy," I began, "You needed sleep. The last battle with the First took so much out of you. You should sleep longer. Slayer, I can't have you dyin' on me now. Please Slayer, don't run out knowing you'll get yourself killed in a matter of minutes. You can win this, if you rest for a bleeding minute." That got her to smile. So I smiled too. I put my hand on her's and softly rubbed it, wanting to rub away all the dark and evil in our lives. "Rest. Close your eyes and rest." I thought she'd do what I said. Just gently place a kiss on my cheek and lay back down. But no, she just kept smiling.
She shook her head at me, placing a digit against my lips. She shushed me with a soothing hiss. "No matter what, I'm going to die. Whether it be in the first few minutes, or the last minute of Earth, I will die. Rest or no rest, my time has come." She did that smile again. Like she wasn't afraid of what was coming. "Just promise me that you'll take care of Dawn." I laughed at her softly. She was crazy. She wasn't about to die. No. Buffy would never die. Never. And if she did, she would come right back.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek, still slightly chuckling at the matter. "I'll take care of Dawn and you. The three of us. Together. We'll be a family after this. We can go and make a home. Live together like normal people. And then, we can get married and when the time comes, I can turn you into a vampire after Niblet's grown up. You and I Love. We can be together forever after this. Just one last battle as the Slayer and you can retire. Hang up your stake and become a vampire." I had it all worked out in my head. It had to work. She had to stay with me forever. That's all I wanted and all I needed. She was the tasty medicine that made you healthy in minutes. Okay, so there was no such soddin' thing, but that's because she was unreal. So great, it was impossible to classify her into mortal standards.
I smiled down at her again, almost as if I was in my own little world until I saw her frown. Alas, my smile remained, in hopes for the dream world I had built whilst I slept. "Spike. Do you really think I'm going to live?" And that was it. I came crashing down into the real world. It bleeding hurt. Why did there have to be a real world? Why couldn't Buffy and I frolic within my world? I don't know. I only know, that I love her and I want to be with her forever. But did I seriously think that was possible? Of course not.
I slowly shook my head. "But we have now Buffy and that's what matters." I pushed my lips against her's softly. Our tongues colliding and rubbing in a sweet mixture between vampire and Slayer. Her arms slid around me as I straddled her. My hands rested against her face. My digits touched the soft texture of her wavy tresses. It was then I knew love was a cruel and evil baddie.
I felt her nibble against my lip. As the kiss softened and the movement faded, I heard her whimper softly. Her tough shell had cracked within my gentle touch and. . . cold embrace. I kissed over to her ear. I whispered to her, "I love you," before licking her earlobe. I kissed back up to her tiers and pulled on her lower lip. I sucked and gnawed as tears flowed easily down from her dim orbs. It wasn't because of how I was kissing her. It was because I was kissing her. It was because this would be the last time we could share that warm feeling inside. The last time we could finally feel love together in the warm sheets and blankets of her bed. And I knew it too, but I didn't cry. I just continued to kiss upon her beautiful face and touch her warm skin.
And then, all my love fell into one thing that I'll treasure until the day I am staked. We made love. It was powerful and deep. Sweet and soft, yet rough and tough. No words could describe the way I felt or what was done between the steamy walls of Buffy Summer's bedroom that day. It felt as if it went on forever. And when it ended, it felt right. It felt as if all that passion and love we felt for one another had been summed up in one great "boink," as Buffy would put it. It was odd to feel so pleased. I could never ask for more. Never.
I collapsed next to her, her warm skin brushed against mine and a shiver ran through me. I kissed her hand softly, looking into her eyes. I noticed how she admired that window. She knew what lay beyond it and so did I. She looked back at me, smiling that fearless smile she had before. "I better go round up the troops. They probably need a few minutes to get ready." She paused, looking at me with question. "Are you coming? I mean, are you going to go fight?" I looked down at the sweaty sheet, then back at her. Softly kissing her hand, I shrugged.
"Do you want me to?" And if she did, I would in a second. If she wanted me to push a stake through my own heart, I would. Anything for Buffy Summers.
That's when she sighed. "I want you to do whatever you want. It doesn't matter to me." Hard choice there. Fight at the side of my love, or run away like a coward. Kissing her hand again, I stared into her eyes. I'd never see those eyes in such an innocent state again. Once we left this room, they would be gone eyes. No more sparkling emerald to stare at. I leaned by head back, staring at the ceiling. Love or life.
She answered for me. "The moment it's in it's final round, I want you to take Willow, Xander, Dawn, Anya, and Giles away. If I'm alive, I'll finish it. Angel and Faith can fend for themselves. I want you to make Dawn a good home after I'm gone. Please take good care of her. Please." She looked pleadingly into my eyes; silent tears fell across trembling lips. I bit my lower lip and nodded.
"Of course."
We stood and got dressed in silence. What else was there to say? I walked over to the door, placing my hand on the cool brass. She stopped me, putting her head over mine. She looked up into my crystal eyes. "I love you Spike. Remember that." It was an order I'd always follow too.
"I love you too Buffy Summers. And you remember that Pet," I responded. There would be no kiss here. No final hug or even handshake. What went on between our eyes was enough to keep me happy forever. Her hand left mine and she stepped out into the hall. She glanced over at me. A tear fell down her cheek. The final tear. She turned and walked down the stairs.
I was whipped and she knew it. I'd never cry in front of her. Before the war began, I promised myself I'd never cry before the Slayer. It was a promise I kept 'til the very end. But the moment her body was out of my sight, the tears poured down from my eyes. I couldn't control them. Just like I couldn't control my affection for the Slayer.
Love wasn't my "thing."
Buffy Anne Summers was.
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So there's my odd attempt at Spike's POV. Um, hope it was okay. Please review.
