He hit hard on the cold pavement. Buffy's emotionless voice reached his ears with the same words that had broken his fragile heart so many years before. "You're beneath me." Buffy turns around and walks away, anger in her step, not realizing how much those three words could affect Spike. He begins to gather his money as tears threaten their way to the surface. No. He won't admit how much pain those words cause him, not even to himself. Stuffing a few bills in his pocket and leaving the rest laying carlessly on the ground he stands and walks back into the Bronze. The loud lights and colors blurred together in his mind as he tried to sort out his thoughts. He needed a drink. It would help numb the pain, at least for a few hours. He sits down to a very attractive woman. She had golden brown hair reaching halfway down her back with a slight curl at the end. Her deep blue eyes seemed seemed to catch his attention as soon as he looked into them. She wore a black halter top with a knee-length bluejean skirt and stylish black boots and a ruby red necklace lined with diamonds. Her name was Melanie. They talk for a couple hours. Spike began to trust her. In his drunken abyss after the many drinks that had intoxicated him he began to lay his heart on the table.
"I just wish she new how I used to be, that I never really changed. There is still some William in me, some humanity that I never could seem to get rid of. Now all I am to her is Spike, the big bad. Someone she could never trust because I'm evil. But I've changed. She thinks of me as Angel...I know it. She saw how he changed, how he no longer loved her, and assumes that's how I am too. But she's bloody wrong...I just wish...that she new me how I used to be." With Melanie, Spike didn't feel the need to keep his feelings in, hell after this night he'd probably never see her again anyway.
Melanie reached over and touched his hand gently. "Sometimes it's just hard for people to see the real person inside, sweetie. They're just so wrapped up in their beliefs and how they think things are that they can't see the truth. No worries, though, they all see it one day, but sometimes it's just too late. Then they're the ones that missed out. I have to be going now, so goodbye. And one last thing," these final words were spoken as she stood up and began to walk away, "wish granted."
The last two words were heard, but not thought of. He took another drink of his beer, savoring the flavor in his mouth a moment before swallowing and stood up. He walked to the door leading to the back alley, deciding to go on back to his crypt. Slowly he walked home, oblivious to anything around him as he stared at the ground, watching his feet glide over it until he reached the crypt. He stumbles in and falls onto the couch, a recent addition to his collection of stolen furniture. He lets his eyes fall shut and awaits the things that he is bound to awaken to in the morning: a deadly hangover, yelling, fighting, anger...most caused by Buffy. Yet he in his heart he awaits it with the eagerness a child would on Christmas Eve, all because he gets to see her.
I know really short...but...hey...I had to set up the storyline and...blah, blah, blah...I f you like it be sure to tell me and I'll keep on writing more, promise it'll get better :) ...if you don't...give me some suggestions...