Title : Submission
Author: PyleanPrincess
Contact: vision_girl@angelmailbox.com
Setting: After 'Crush'..somewhere before 'The Gift'.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all you know and love, I merely borrowed them for a while for my own enjoyment and possibly yours :-)
Note: This is my first fic, so I'd really appreciate your honesty, so R&R or email me with feedback.
Thanks for taking the time :)



Buffy summers stood alone. She longed for a good kill. She needed to feel the rush, the power, but instead, tonight, she was slumped against an old tomstone expertly spinning a stake between her
fingers, switching hands on impulse. She was restless, itching for a staking, looking for reassurance.
Something she wouldn't find. Not tonight

Buffy bent down to pick up her bag, which was loaded with weapons in case of heavy bad guy
activity - not likely. Sunnydale had been still for days, not a single vampire. It's scary when the one
thing the Slayer has to fight is absent, she feels hollow. She needs to feel useful, needed, and for
that to happen the evil has to keep coming. It's like the feeding is a two way thing, the rush, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, it's her life source. She'd be nothing without it, or at least thats what she beleived. She was the Slayer - could she *be* anything else?
Buffy knew there was a fine line between good and evil, and that being the Slayer, she'd always be close to the edge, but she was strong, she fought the darkness that penetrated her every being.
Not everyboby in her position would be as strong, and knowing that kept her going. Just look at Faith, she crossed that line and there was probably no hope for her now. Probably.

"Buffy?"

The slayer let her bag fall to the ground as she spun around startled, stake poised and ready for that kill she had longed for, only to become face to face with a man. Not a man. Spike.

"Spike!" Buffy exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing?"

The moonlight shone down enhancing the defined facial features of the blond vampire. He took a long drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the dirt.

"Taking a walk," Spike stated simply, raising his eyebrow cockily awaiting the usual taunts she would lay upon him.

"Well, I'd really appreciate it if you could take your 'walk' elswhere." Buffy snapped pointedly.
The vampire smiled dismissively and turned to walk back in the direction she suspected he came, long leather duster billowing out behind him as he stalked the darkness, mimicking a true creature of the night.

Buffy was a little shocked by his submission, hurt even. Where were the jibes she'd gotton so used to sharing? This wasn't Spike.
She picked up her bag once more, tossing it over her shoulder and fell into step with him.
"Where are you going?" Buffy demanded.
The Vampire carried on walking, turning his head to meet her's, he didn't say anything, he just looked on amused at her sudden directness, as she struggled for the right words.

Buffy jumped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks like a hunter cornering its prey. She looked at him, searching his eyes for an answer, those deep penetrating eyes, the same eyes it was so easy to get lost into, the same eyes she *forbid* herself to get lost into.

Spike saw how desperate the Slayer was for an answer so he gave in.

"Figured I might go home..get some rest,"

"Why?" She pondered further, almost playfully.

"Whats with the twenty bloody questions? Can't a fella get through one night without a good seeing to from you?" He teased in return.

"I just think it's not good for you to be home right now," Buffy blurted.

"Is that right?" Spike was interested in what the Slayer had to say..

What am I doing? Buffy thought. It's not like I want him to stay is is? Of course it isn't..

Buffy tried to reassure herself of her true feelings for Spike and although she despised herself for feeling the way she did but she couldn't help it. There was something between them and she was tired of fighting it, she had been fighting professionally for years now and look where it had gotten her. She was done with it, ready to let it take over.

"Spike...I want you," oh, god..what have I done?

The vampire's eyes widened, he was taken aback by Buffy's admission, it was better than anything he had ever felt in his unlife. The very scene he had played out a thousand times over in his dreams.
It was real.
Buffy had finally breathed life into his every fantasy.

"...To partol with me" She quickly added, struggling to withstand her earlier impulse.

For some reason unbeknownst to her she felt safer with him around, a security familiar to the one she possessed when around Angel. But she had never felt the urge to be this strong, this was different. Much deeper. Much darker. Much more real.

Spike's heart sank, any other night that she had said she needed his help, he was only to happy to oblige, a chance to show her that he could be something other than the monster he was conceived as. He could be a man. But tonight, hearing those words and interpretting them as something more. Truly beleiving that she meant she needed him for something outside of the slaying and stabbing and beheading. Hearing those words, made him, for the first time in a long while he felt alive. Who was he kidding?

His world shattered around him.

Buffy saw how hurt he was, by her quick retraction. If only he knew how her heart felt. If only her head would let her know how her heart felt. Spike was a vampire, but he was different from the others, he had something they didn't, besides the chip. Something Angel didn't even possess. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, but she knew it was there. Like a candle flame struggling against the wind.
Spike tried to fight the darkness just as she did, and like her he knew how hard it was to deal with. At least they shared that.

"Buffy?" Spike asked concered for the now silent Slayer, returning her gaze attentively.

Buffy quickly realised she was staring at Spike, she had lost the battle. She felt herself begin to smile, and although unwilling and unexpected she allowed herself to continue, to become lost in his eyes, where nothing seemed to matter.