Author's note: Sorry to disappoint, but unlike the fanfiction.net statistics say, this story has 'only' 8 chapters... During the downtime, something went wrong with the upload and chapters got counted more than once. I hope you'll still enjoy the story, thought :-)



THE PROPHECY OF TWO

PROLOGUE


Poof! The vampire exploded in a satisfactory cloud of dust. Spike straightened and wiped the particles from his fingers.

"And that's three," he said with a smirk before turning around to see how Buffy was doing. The slayer was clambering back to her feet, streaks of dust on her clothes. He held out a hand to help her up. She ignored it and pulled herself upright with the support of a headstone. Spike shrugged. "Suit yourself," he muttered below his breath.

He lifted his face and sniffed. The smell of ozone had grown heavier during the encounter with the fledgling vampires, and it wouldn't be much longer before the storm broke.

"Are we done, here, Slayer?" he asked. "I don't wanna get drenched. Bad for the leather, you know."

Buffy snorted. "Yeah, we're done. That was the last of them. You know, for a creature so desperate to help and score points, you need to work on your timing! Like getting here before I--"

"Bugger-it!" he cut her off. "In case you hadn't noticed, I was a bit occupied fending off three vampires bustin' their guts to stake me!"

"Whatever," Buffy snapped back.

Overhead, unnoticed, invisible clouds drew ever closer. The stars faded from view and thunder rumbled in the distance. Spike tasted the air again. This storm was going to be bad. Very bad.

"You better make sure to get your pretty arse home fast, too," he said. His voice lost its saucy tone. "This is one thunderstorm you don't want to get caught in."

"Why, Spike?" Buffy taunted. "Think this slayer can't handle a bit of rain?"

Spike growled beneath his breath. "Damn, woman. It's not the rain that you should worry about," he explained in a patient tone. "You're not lightning proof, you know. Doesn't come with the slayer-package. And this graveyard is full of trees."

Buffy followed the wide sweep of his arm with her eyes, and nodded once. "You could have a point," she admitted before she turned on her heels and stalked away.

He began to follow her until she said over her shoulder, "Go home, Spike. I'm not in the mood for your nonsense tonight."

Like he didn't know. Bickering had become a second nature to both of them, and truth be told, he enjoyed their sparring, be it with words or physically. But tonight Buffy had been especially nasty. Must be that time of the month, Spike decided and veered off to head in the other direction and his crypt.

That's when the lights went out.

The stars had faded long ago. A roiling cloud swallowed the half-moon. And when the few electrical lights that illuminated the graveyard failed too, the night turned pitch black. It didn't bother Spike much. He vamped out, his preternatural vision good enough to make out the shapes of the trees and markers and not run into any of them headfirst.

Slayers, on the other hand, did not come equipped with night vision. A thud and a muffled curse, somewhere in the general direction behind Spike, alerted the vampire to this fact. He smirked as he imagined the slayer fumbling in the darkness. However, the grin quickly faded at the next thought: any vampires still lurking after their patrol might pick this moment, when she was most vulnerable, to attack.

He swung around and jogged back to Buffy, leather duster flapping behind.

"Need a hand?" he asked when he reached her. Now that she was safe, he allowed himself to smile again while he watched her try to find her way through the inky night. Left hand held out, she set her feet cautiously one in front of the other.

"No!" Buffy pivoted at the sound of his voice and tripped over a vase of wilted flowers that someone had placed upon the grave a long time ago.

Spike sprang forward; his vampiric speed enabled him to reach her in time and steady her before she crashed into the headstone. He chuckled. "Looks to me like you do." He wrapped his fingers around her elbow and began to steer her away from the trees and the row of graves, back onto the path. Much to his surprise, she didn't pull free or shove him off. She didn't even protest. The abrupt blackout must have thrown her more than he had imagined.

Encouraged by the lack of negative response and secure in the knowledge that Buffy was depending on him until some sort of light source became available, Spike couldn't resist the opportunity to slip an arm around her waist. She stiffened a bit beneath his touch but otherwise gave no indication of her feelings. Her body was warm and supple beneath his cool fingers, the heat of living flesh seeping through the thin cloth of her shirt. And she smelled so bloody good! The faint scent of vanilla and soap was tinged with fresh, clean sweat and something musky and familiar.

A soft chuckle formed deep in the back of Spike's throat. Buffy could deny it all she wanted, yet here was the evidence: slaying was as titillating to her as violence was to him. He knew better than to mention it to her; it was enough to know her secret. He drew her a bit closer, inhaling deeply, locking the sweet smell that was Buffy into his memory for later perusal in his dreams.

His hand developed a mind of its own, emboldened by the lack of rebuff, and slowly wandered up her side until it reached the gentle curve of her breast. Buffy made a small noise in her throat. Spike couldn't believe that this was real, that he wasn't hallucinating, but his body had no such qualms. His pulse quickened, blood roared in his ears, and his breathing grew ragged. Or so it would have, if he had been alive. As it was, in the darkness, nobody would ever know how good she made him feel.

The sudden tensing of her muscles beneath his palm gave him a millisecond of warning before-

"Oww!" Spike stumbled back from the sheer force of the blow against his ribs.

"Spike, you're a pig," Buffy told him, glaring in his general direction. "Did you really think that--"

Lightning streaked across the sky, followed straightaway by a thunderclap so powerful that Spike's teeth rattled in his mouth. Buffy flung an arm over her eyes and Spike blinked several times to clear away the black spots, which had appeared in the center of his vision. Before he could see clearly again, lightning flared once more, the bolt hitting the ground between them. Buffy screamed. Spike sailed backwards, thrown off his feet by the sheer force of the current.

"Buffy!" he shouted, in the instant before his head connected with a tilted tombstone and he blacked out.

TBC


Disclaimer: this story is based on the Mutant Enemy/UPN/Twentieth Century Fox Television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.