Summary: Spike is captured by the First. Buffy tries to come to terms with recent events. Willow discovers an interesting prophecy that changes everything.

Setting: Through season 7 episode "Never Leave Me"when Spike is captured by The First, goes off into my own version of the last season with a different but a no less exciting chain of events.

Disclaimer: All characters are the creation and property of Joss Whedon.


She's Your Cocaine

Inspired By these lyrics:

She's your cocaine
She's got you shaving your legs
You can suck anything
But you know you wanna be me
Put on your make-up boy
You're your favourite stranger
And we all like to watch
So shimmy once and do it again
Bring you sister
Bring you sister if you can't handle it
She says control it
Then she says don't control it
Then she says you're controlling
The way she makes you crawl
She's your cocaine your Exodus laughing
And she knows what you are
So shimmy once and do it again

If you want me to
Boy I could lie to you
You don't need one of these to let me inside of you
And is it true
That devils end up like you
Something safe for the picture frame
And is it true
That devils end up like you
So tied up you don't know how she came
She's your Cocaine

----Tori Amos

CHAPTER 1

He always knew their love was dark. Even before the burning light in his chest brought the shadows dancing upon the memories of the past. Funny, that--he sought out the most fatal element to his kind, fought for it to be shoved inside his chest. The spark. Shoulda set him aflame, ashes aflight on the breeze. Sometimes it feels like it has. Feels like it is burning him alive from the inside.

At the moment though, the twisting pain of his soul is eclipsed by the searing pain of the bright glowing metal blistering the skin of his neck. He vaguely recognizes his own screams, it's been so long he can't separate where his voice ends and his thoughts begin. Or hers.

"You know Spikey, you brought this on your self," she said with a smirk pulling at the edges of her mouth. "You thought a soul would make you human enough? Make me love you?"

She pulled the poker away from his skin, little pieces of his neck sticking to the metal. She frowned at it, clucking her tongue and handing it to the ancient vampire behind her. "Put it back in the fire."

Spike tried to stand, put some weight on his feet instead of hanging solely by his wrists. The ropes had dug into his flesh of his arms, so much so that the first few nights he spent hanging on this wall blood ran down his forearms, dripping off his elbows and creating puddles at his feet.

Since then, many more puddles had been created.

None of his wounds bleed anymore--he hasn't eaten in...he can't even remember how long. At first he attempted keeping track of the time. But that was when he could stay conscious long enough to monitor the coming and goings of the ancient vampire he helped raise. When it left the cave it must've been night. Spike wondered why it wasn't dead yet. Why the Slayer--the real Buffy--hasn't killed it yet.

Maybe it killed her first.

No. No, that wasn't a possibility, he scolded himself. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him.

Suddenly a slap, a sharp stinging sensation on his cheek, tore him from his mantra. Long, blood red fingernails trailed along his jaw line.

"Now now now...picket white fences and buckets of dew drops aren't allowed here..." Drusilla swayed in front of him, her fingertips dancing across his chest, "My silly William. She doesn't want you. All broken and legless, she won't let you play anymore."

He willed himself to look away. To block out the First's ramblings and focus on her. On the image of her golden hair, her bright green eyes, full of strength and determination. Determination to find him.

Dru gripped his jaw, digging her nails into his skin and forcing him to stare into her--it's--eyes. "I know what haunts you, my boy. My sweet, sweet Spikey." Her voice is soft and doll-like, a perfect imitation of the real Dru, but the look in it's eyes is empty. et, sweet Spikey." Her voice is soft and doll-like, a perfect imitation of the real Dru, but the look in it's eyes is empty. Void of anything--even the child-like innocence masking the madness that he remembers of Dru. Or at least, he thinks he remembers. If he was honest with himself he would have to admit that he doesn't really remember anything. The more he tries to concentrate on a memory, the more it dissolves, like sand sliding through his fingers.

It's a game, he tells himself. A trick. By this...this thing pretending to be his psychotic ex-lover. This thing that pretends to be his Slayer. Pretends to know her.

"Oh, but I do know, William, I do," Dru cooed in his ear, her breath cold and sour against his skin. When she reappears in his vision, she is the Slayer again, holding a dagger engraved with runes and symbols that seem to dance across the blade.

"I will never save you."

...........................................................................

Short, I know. More to come.