THICKER THAN WATER this fic takes place after Bargaining part 2 and before Once More, With Feeling.
Disclaimer: all characters are property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy; with the exception of Annabelle, who is my own invention.
This is my first fic, so reviews are eagerly awaited!!
Chapter One-
Watching her fight, he thought to himself that maybe things hadn't changed that
much after all. She was still blonde, beautiful, and capable of killing with a swift
precision that he was almost envious of.
"And I'm still lurking in the sodding shadows," he muttered, taking a long drag
of his cigarette.
Buffy delivered another powerful kick to her opponent's face; before driving a
stake through his heart. The vampire exploded into a cloud of grey dust without a
sound.
A brave one, Spike noted as he ground the cigarette into the floor with his heel,
but far too weak and foolish to have tangled with the recently-resurrected Slayer.
He stepped forward, ready to make an unnecessarily biting comment- any excuse
to be near her, to hear her voice speak his name, even in anger and contempt.
She didn't love him, he knew that; maybe she never would, but even words of
hate couldn't lessen Spike's infatuation with the Slayer. Things had changed
lately. Since her return, Buffy had been gentler towards him. They could almost
be described as friends sometimes. And that would just have to be enough for
Spike for the time being.
Buffy had visibly relaxed, turned to leave the darkened alleyway and head home
to Dawn, patrol over.
"Summers...." Spike called out, but as Buffy spun around to answer she was
knocked to the floor by the sudden appearance of a flame-haired vampiress,
leaping from nowhere with amazing speed.
Spike froze where he stood."Interesting," he mused, as Buffy fell to the floor.
"Oooomph!" The Slayer exhaled loudly as her back thudded down onto the
concrete. Recovering quickly, she glanced up into the contorted features of the
vamp. "This is getting so old!" she muttered. "I kill your friends, you try to kill
me...you lose!!!"
She tugged on the forearms of the redhead and flipped her over her head,
springing back to her feet before the Lady Lestat had landed. And waited,
muscles tensed.
Where the hell had the girl gone? A blow to the back of the head brought Buffy
back down to the floor.
The vampiress stood above her, unruffled, a brick in her delicate white hand.
"So," she said- and Buffy noted that her accent was English, refined, like Giles'-
"you're the famous Buffy."
"And you're really stupid," retorted Buffy cheerfully, swinging her legs up to
lock around the girl's neck, "'Cos I'm gonna kill you in about- uh- now!"
She twisted, flinging the vampire clean across the alley, and stood up slowly.
This time she saw the girl land, a flash of red hair and a gnash of sharp fangs-
and then she was gone again.
The girl was unnaturally fast, even for the undead. Buffy froze, eyes darting
around the alley. She breathed deeply. She had been trained to fight and win-
even blindfolded. 'This shouldn't be a problem,' she told herself.
A slight sound gave the next attempted attack away; Buffy leaped into the air as
the vamp rushed at her from behind a garbage can, and as she landed she kicked
the girl in the stomach, sending her slamming back into the wall of the alley.
Spike had had enough of being a casual observer- this vamp was slippery, surely
Buffy could do with his help?
He shot out of the murky depths of the shadows, a blur of black and bleached-
blonde, and pinned the redhead to the wall by he throat. Fangs bared and face
distorted, he tightened his grip. Buffy threw a stake to him, he caught it deftly in
his left hand, brought his arm forward...
"William," the vampiress chided gently, just before the wood pierced her flesh,
"surely you wouldn't try to kill me?"
Spike stopped for a second, studied her face. The stake clattered to the floor.
"Spike!" Buffy yelled, "What are you doing? She'll get away!"
Spike didn't hear her."Annabelle?" He took a step backwards, shocked. She
nodded, smirking triumphantly towards the Slayer. "Hello, William."
Buffy walked over and picked up the stake. "Another one of your skanky exes,
Spike?" she sneered, eyeing Annabelle distastefully. "Well, I'm not one for
sentimentality. If you won't kill her, I sure as hell will!"
She raised the stake, prepared to strike.
Spike caught her wrist. "No you bloody well won't, Slayer," he warned through
gritted teeth.
Annabelle fluttered her eyelashes and draped herself over Spike's leather-clad
shoulder, the picture of fanged innocence . "Both of you are going to be civil to
each other." Buffy lowered the stake reluctantly.
Spike looked meaningfully at Annabelle. She retracted her fangs with a dramatic sigh.
"Ok, Spike, you have your way," Buffy said, "Now give me one good reason
why I can't stake this annoyingly perky walking corpse. And it better be good,
bleach boy."
Spike scowled and reached into his pocket for a fresh cigarette. He needed one. Really.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," he mumbled around the cigarette, "meet Annabelle, m..."
"His sister," the redhead interjected, "So I think you had better learn to be nice to
me, don't you?"
