Dust
:: CHAPTER ONE ::
Rain dripped through the branches of the great oak onto his face. It followed the well-defined contours of his face, slickened his hair to his head, and dampened the skin beneath his clothes. His black boots were faithfully dogged in the growing mud around his feet; his long leather coat equally so.
Despite the droplets attempting to cloud his vision, his dark eyes remained faithfully fixed on the lit window at the top of the house. Light from the room poured into the field beyond, lighting the cascading rainfall as it made its way through the black sky. The moon stayed cloaked by the clouds, setting the land varying shades of grey and black.
The rain traced his furrowed brow, down across his nose, past his lips, to the sleek steel pressed against his shoulder, aimed up to the window. No thought flickered across his mind. No second thoughts. Not when he'd come this far.
His mind was focussed.
The target came into view, moving to close the window. His hand lingered on the sill for a moment before he turned to answer someone from within. He smiled but shook his head before returning. He pressed his palms into the wood, leaning his head out of the window to gain a deep breath of air. He closed his eyes.
He slumped forwards, a woman screamed, and the metal pressed into Spike's shoulder began to be expertly unlatched and carefully placed within a large black bag. All within a matter of seconds.
Spike hoisted the bag onto his back before turning and disappearing into the night. Eyes watched him. Still eyes. Eyes in the darkness. Buffy's eyes.
Buffy pulled down her hood as she entered the pub. Removing her coat, she revealed a pale blue top that attracted attention; too much colour for that part of Romania. She didn't care; in a few moments they would forget everything, their chatter would change, and she would blend in.
She took a seat by the window and tilted her head out of it. The view was across a field towards the woods, or rather, would have been were it not for the night that had shrouded the countryside in darkness.
There was a flash of lightening just as she closed her eyes. She began to count in her head until the thunder came. It was close. She opened her eyes and looked out of the window again. There was another flash. Her eyes opened wider. She was certain, well, she couldn't be sure, but there had been a figure there, hadn't there?
Her eyes searched the gloom, but had no success.
"For eatink?" Asked a woman, motioning her hands to her mouth, clearly aware of Buffy's inability to speak the language. Buffy smiled and nodded.
"Um," she looked around the other people's plates until she spotted one she liked the look of. "There, that one. The um, potatoes and um…" She motioned with her hands and the woman followed her gaze before nodding and moving away. "Thank you." Buffy called, feebly, after her.
She smiled lightly before turning back to the window.
The pub door swung open. A man with a long black leather coat walked in. He was drenched from head to foot and carried a heavy expression on his face. She recognised him immediately. He was her target. Spike.
She tried to look disinterested around the room, but there was something else about him that kept attracting her attention. He had…presence. She shifted in her seat and shot her eyes straight in front of her. He was looking at her. The blue jumper had been a good move. He continued to watch her.
Where was his bag? She tried to search his form from the corner of her eye, but it wasn't working.
He stopped looking at her, only to be greeted by the same kind woman that had served Buffy. Buffy turned her head to get a better view. What was going on? Honour? Compassion? Heck, even politeness? Strange for a vampire.
She shook her head and smiled, dropping her gaze to the table in front of her. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath out.
"I saw you." A deep voice darkened her mind. Her eyes shot open to see Spike looming down. He sat down opposite her, not reacting to her startled face.
"What?" She said, shocked.
"I saw you." He repeated. "I saw you at the house. I saw you in the park. I saw you before you even got up this morning." That was a first for any of her previous missions, she had to admit…but not to him!
"I--" She began, but he interrupted.
"What do you want with me?" He growled as quietly as he had strength for. The woman returned to her table, distracting his attention for a moment.
She closed her mouth and looked at him in determination. He was attractive…arguably. Everything was in the right place. She traced her vision across the firm cheekbones on his face. It was probably better, after all, to get a better look at her target. She never knew when she might get another chance. Her eyes began to wander. His mouth was hypnotic; there was something dizzying about the way his lips were moving.
She'd heard of certain vampires that had the powers to muddle the minds, bewitch any human they wanted. Her body felt soft and cushioned. She was almost sleepy.
He turned back to her, jolting her out of her trance. She blinked a few times and looked around, shocked at the effect he had had on her.
"What do you want with me?" He wasted no time, simply returned to his previous conversation.
"What?"
"You're a smart person, Miss Summers, but answer me now. What do you want with me?"
"Wha--" she took a deep breath, "how do you know my name?" He frowned at her before indicating the purse held in her hands, her ID card facing up. She turned it over, instinctively. He watched her as her eyes fell, allowing his own to flick down her body for a moment before returning to her face.
"What do you want with me?" He said again, this time his voice was different, more playful.
"I don't want you!" She spat back, meeting his gaze. Her heart skipped a beat at the sheer intensity of his eyes. He didn't seem so much of a target anymore!
The invitation of her statement was too much. Spike had to respond. "You want me." He said, a smile peeling at the corner of his mouth. She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. She knew he would already be able to sense her body's reaction. He grinned more fully at her, his eyes sparkling seductively. "See." He said, tilting his head to one side. He watched her for a moment before sitting up straight, his expression hardening. "But I haven't got time for games. You were sent to kill me, right?"
Buffy tried to subdue her body's reactions. This was her target, she assured herself. "Right." She replied automatically. "No – wait, I--"
"And why have they sent you? I have killed all the others and it was a full year ago since they sent the last. Why you? Why now?" His mind was racing, but it wasn't the thoughts his mouth was saying.
Buffy clamped her jaw shut, refusing to betray any information. Spike rolled his eyes.
"Fuck it!" He stood up from the table and glared down at her. "If I so much as think you're behind me, you're dead." He growled, softly, before leaving.
When she could, Buffy ran out into the night rain and looked about. She could barely see a thing, everything was so blurry in her eyes. She felt like she had just woken up.
She turned her head to look into the gloom. She could almost see someone in the shadows of the alley behind the pub. Without thinking anymore, she headed down towards it.
The light was almost completely gone when she stopped. She couldn't hear the din from inside the pub anymore. Everything was silent. She stilled her breathing, her breath still appearing as mist in the cold weather. She reached to behind her coat and brought out a stake. Moving very slowly she continued to move, the sounds of her footsteps against the wet cobbles echoing on the walls.
Something moved. She could hear it. She stopped, dead, and waited for movement again. Then it came.
The stake was knocked out of her hands from behind and she turned to see Spike stood there, watching her, waiting for her move.
"Hi." He said, a false smile on his lips. Her wide eyes looked up confusedly at him. "We gonna fight now?" She wasted no more time, punching him head on in the face. He stumbled back, and almost instantly forgot the pain as she charged at him with a fresh stake. He twisted out of the way, just in time to miss it. It fell from her hand. He grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall. He tutted. "Too hasty." Pressed against her, every word resounded through her.
She struggled against his grip, but he only slammed her back harder. His teeth grew as his vampire face came on. He tilted his head to one side and moved in, enjoying the feeling her racing heartbeat had invoked within him. It had been so long since he had last tasted fresh blood.
An inch away from her he stopped and morphed back. He moved towards her face, watching her eyes intently. "You haven't screamed yet, Miss Summers."
She glared at him. "Give it time." She spat out, sarcastically. He smiled, more genuinely this time.
"Not like the others." He whispered, his deep voice invading her senses. She moved her face away from his as he tried to analyse it.
"You got that right." She chimed, before looking him straight in the eye.
Suddenly he fell silent, his features serious. Her eyes were dark and watching. He was compelled by something else. He moved his head over her lips and felt her breathing catch in her throat, all the time meeting her eyes in battle.
Gently, too gently for a vampire, he let his bottom lip brush over hers, watching her eyes flutter slightly as he did so. He felt strangely compelled to let his own close, and struggled to keep them open.
She began to respond, pushing her lips out to feel more contact with his. He brought his head crashing down, teasing her tongue with his own.
Buffy's mind was buzzing. Her blood was ringing in her ears, her heart was racing. Her body was stuck on overdrive. As he deepened the kiss, her breasts brushed against his chest. She felt like she couldn't breath.
The heat of battle still raged within her, but now it mingled with need. She pushed back against his hands and, to her surprise, he released her, his own urgency driving him. She pulled down on his shoulders with her hands as he brought his arms round her, his fingers gripping her coat.
Suddenly, he let go. He moved away. Buffy stood there for a moment before opening her eyes. She looked about for him, then saw him, by the wooden stakes on the floor. He picked them both up and threw them at her.
"You are here to kill me." She caught them with ease. "Now, we fight."
"What?" She asked in disbelief.
"You are food. I am a paycheque, now fight!" He ordered.
She watched him for a while before stuffing one of the stakes into the back of her trousers. She shook her head to herself.
He charged at her, but dodged just in time to miss her fist as it came hurtling towards him. She turned to block a kick aimed her way.
They both moved like lightening, and when one advanced, the other reacted with speed and skill.
Spike had Buffy by the shoulders, ready to go in for the kill. She jutted her head forwards, knocking him back. She rubbed her forehead before continuing. She kicked him, hitting him to the floor. She landed atop him, and placed a stake over his heart. He looked at her. Why had she stopped?
"Don't over think it. Just do it!" He bellowed. She refused to move. He reached up and ripped his shirt open, revealing his bare chest. He dragged the stake back over his heart. "Do it!" He shouted again. He looked up into her eyes. "Do it." He whispered, more gently.
::