A Spark of Love
Chapter Two
Previously: After finding out about Spike's feelings, Buffy goes to confront him, but they are distracted by a demon. They return to the crypt to clean up, because Buffy didn't want him to know that she had uninvited him from her house. Spike challenges her to kiss him; she does, but claims it means nothing.
Buffy rolled over, trying to block out the persistent sunlight. She didn't want to face the day just yet, not when her bed was oh-so-comfortable. Plus, to get up would mean leaving the really yummy dream she'd been having that was already starting to fade from her mind. She remembered wrapping her arms around a strong, cool, familiar body –
Oh, God. She sat up suddenly, rubbing away the goosebumps that were crisscrossing her arms. She hadn't just dreamed of Spike. No way.
It wasn't like it was the first time, if she was perfectly honest with herself. Not by a long shot. Still, after the events of the night before, it felt extra-wrong with a dose of this-can't-be-happening.
He was wrong. This was wrong. She couldn't – she didn't – have any feelings for him whatsoever. She would rather admit that Riley had been right and she did have some kind of weird vampire fetish than face the fact (no, not fact, because it wasn't true!) – the impossibility that she could ever feel something for Spike that wasn't disgust.
Buffy rushed to the bathroom, desperate to scrub any remnants of Spike from her mouth. She couldn't get there fast enough.
"Hey, watch it!"
Dawn crossed her arms and gave her best glare. It was pretty impressive – a lesser Slayer might have quelled. Buffy gave as good as she got, though.
"What are you in such a hurry for, anyway?" her sister asked, looking suspicious. Buffy avoided her penetrating gaze.
"I just needed to brush my teeth, that's all. Mind your own beeswax," she said, realizing after she said it how dorky the phrase was. "Not that you keep bees or whatever."
"Like you'd know if I did! You're never here. I could be keeping a whole house of bees!"
It didn't take a genius to detect the bitterness in Dawn's voice. She was teasing, sure, but she definitely meant it at the same time. Buffy sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Look, Dawn –"
But her sister's eyes were no longer glaring. Instead, she was inspecting Buffy's outfit. "Where did you get that?" she demanded accusingly.
Suddenly self-conscious, she folded her arms over the offending tee as if she was trying to hide it. This didn't do any good, natch. Once Dawn latched onto something, she didn't give up.
Her sister's eyes narrowed. "That's Spike's. That's Spike's shirt! And you're wearing it!"
"It's not Spike's," Buffy muttered. She could feel her face heating up. It felt like she was being spotlighted.
Dawn made a noise of disbelief, sounding like she just walked out of a Hilary Duff movie. "Uh, yes it is. I can smell the smoke from here. Oh my God."
"It's not what you think."
"Oh my God."
Buffy wasn't sure whether Dawn was disgusted or impressed, and she didn't really want her to be either. In fact, she felt like thinking about Spike for another millisecond would definitely explode her brain – or maybe her face, from blushing. "It's really not," she insisted. "There was helpage, that's all. Everything's back to normal."
"The kind of normal where you're wearing his clothes," Dawn said dryly. There was a keen look in her eye, but she shrugged. "I don't really care what you do to or with him or whatever. Just don't drive him away, okay, Buffy?"
She gaped at her sister. "Drive him away? Since when do I drive – I don't even drive, much less –"
Dawn was still giving her that look she hated, so Buffy pushed past her. "I just needed to brush my teeth," she mumbled, slamming the door behind.
Why was it that she suddenly felt like the little sister? She knew what she was doing…or, in this case, what she wasn't doing. Ever. She'd been down the dating-a-vampire road, and it had driven her around the bend. Was that a mixed metaphor?
Ugh. Mornings.
She tried to brush her teeth and go about her routine like usual, but Spike kept popping back up in her head like an unwanted…well, Spike. He was always doing that. It was like he knew exactly when she least wanted to see him.
He does come in useful sometimes, Buffy mused. Like when he'd taken care of Dawn and her mom, or when he'd been in her house for some weird (ew) reason (eww) that she didn't want to (nope nope nope) think about. At all.
And that kiss…
She nearly ripped Spike's shirt in her hurry to get it off of her body. She was in for a rough one.
Spike was all for rough nights, but his idea of a good one usually involved a lot more nudity and a lot less falling out of bed after rolling over for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Every time he drifted off, his dreams would turn to Buffy, but the pleasant part was always ruined by her pushing him off and walking away.
Groggily, he realized that one of these half-remembered dreams was actually the reality of the night before. He stood, stretched, and let his face break into a satisfied grin.
She might have left, but she did kiss him. And…(this was the really good part)…she had loved it. Didn't take a vampire to sense that – her enjoyment had come off in dizzying waves.
'Course, she was awfully brassed off now. Probably would take her a few days to come around, but then, he'd thought that the night before until she showed up in front of his crypt telling him they needed to talk. Maybe it wasn't so hopeless.
He couldn't keep leaving it all up to the Slayer, though. Spike loved a woman in charge – and Buffy was definitely capable of dominance – but he needed to show her that he could step up too. He hadn't really, properly, chased a bird since his human days (and he'd been too pathetic of a wanker back then to do anything but stare longingly and write poetry), but he'd seen it done enough. Just needed to be there, where she was. Show off his good traits. He hoped he still had a few of those left.
But where would she be? Patrolling, of course. That was a bit cliché, though. Not to mention she needed to see him outside of the work environment, yeah? Show how he could be in a boyfriend role. So where did the Slayer take her boy toys?
Well, to the Bronze. He'd tried that a couple of days ago, and it hadn't gone so hot. Captain Cardboard had spent a fair load of time at Buffy's house, but he didn't want to seem like he was pushing his boundaries with Dawn. Joyce liked him, though. Might swing by when the Niblet would be out, show that he cared about Joyce, too.
Then there was the Magic Box, but he didn't want to give the Watcher more ammo, either. Maybe in a couple of days.
He remembered, suddenly, running into the Slayer at a frat party back a year or so. She'd been with some wanker who hit her and quit her within a couple days, and Spike had been with…Harm. God, what a night that had been. Back when he could still fight the Slayer. What a rush. Couldn't compete with kissing her, though. Nothing could compete with kissing the Slayer. She melted into his mouth, hotter than fire. Even the slightest taste was intoxicating, as proven by his restless night.
By rights, he shouldn't have been up before sunset, but it was barely noon. What could a vamp do to pass the time? There were always daytime soaps, but Spike was almost itchy with nervous energy. Kissing the bloody Slayer was like having a go with an electric socket. He was wired.
So he'd find out if there was a party sometime soon, and if so, whether the Slayer was going. If she wasn't…well, he was still a little evil, yeah? He'd spread a rumor around about some sacrifice or whatnot going on at the party and she'd be there in a blink. If she'd been any other college student (or ex college student now, as she'd returned home to care for her Mum) then he would've just advertised the free beer, but Slayer priorities were a bit different. Not to mention he'd heard about the time she'd gotten smashed last year and gone all Cave Buffy. Wouldn't have minded seeing that, to be honest. She didn't show off her feral side nearly enough.
Spike finished pulling on clothes and started gelling back his hair, which had become wild and curly in the night's tosses and turns. Once he felt satisfied with its level of tameness, he started off toward the tunnels.
Willy's was his first stop. After knocking down a pint (if he was going to be up this bloody early he might as well enjoy himself), he showed off his bumpies and hit up a couple of local demons.
"Oh, look, it's Spike!" one particularly ugly specimen, a Miyragor demon, said, with an obnoxiously loud snort. "The Slayer's lapdog! Tell me, boy, does she feed you well? Take you on walks?"
"Well," Spike replied mildly, "in exchange for my numerous talents in the bedroom, she occasionally lets me take out piss-for-brains scum like you." In one fluid motion, he slammed the demon's head into the counter. God, he hoped he'd get a couple of splinters at least. Didn't really want to kill the bloke – they'd played poker together more than once, and Spike could usually win against him. Just wanted to put a little fear into him, was all.
It worked – the demon began leaking a blue, somewhat sludgy substance from his pores as he whimpered pathetically. Spike wrinkled his nose, but didn't comment.
"I'll let you live if you tell me about the local nightlife tonight," he said, loudly enough for the other few customers to hear. "The human nightlife, mind you. Is there anything going on somewhere that isn't the bloody Bronze?"
The Miyragor did his best to shrug. "I dunno, man, I'm strictly vegan now, and boy does it feel great. And hey, what's the point in hanging out with humans if you can't gorge on their dandruff, am I right?"
With one last, testy glare, Spike released the demon and wiped his gooey hands on his duster. He scowled at the rest of the bar's patrons. "Well? Any of you wankers keepin' up with the times?"
One timid fledge raised her hand. She couldn't have been more than fourteen when she was turned, and she was so excited to talk to a master vampire that she kept slipping into vamp face even as she spoke. "I heard that there's this, like, legendary party tonight. My, um, my sire-boyfriend and I are going, it's gonna be so grea-"
"Where is it?"
She brushed a few stray brunette strands from her face as she recited an address. Spike stole a pen from a passed-out vamp at the bar and wrote it on his hand.
"Much obliged, pet," he said amicably, capping the pen and slipping it into his pocket. "I'll do you a bit of a favor, too. You and your boyfriend stay away from the party, yeah? Spend the night in, rent a movie or something."
The fledge pouted. "Why?"
"I think I'm gonna take the Slayer on a bit of a date, and I don't reckon she'd much appreciate another vamp gettin' between us." Spike flashed the fledge another grin, gave the Miyragor a two-finger salute, and left.
"Oh, hey!" Willow said perkily as Buffy strode in. "Here to put a little slay in your day?"
Buffy smiled, distracted. Not behind the counter, not stocking shelves, and she couldn't hear anyone in the back…"Where's Giles? I thought we'd get some quality training in. What, did he ditch to catch a movie or something?"
"He stepped out," the witch replied vaguely. "Anyhoo, this gives us time to catch up. How'd it go with – y'know – the whole Spike-crushing thing?" She leaned in conspiratorially, eyes lighting up.
Buffy swallowed. Again. It felt like she was some kind of weird snake-thing trying to swallow a whole egg. She'd seen one do that at a zoo when she was about eight and it had stuck in her brain for some reason. Maybe she'd always had a pull to the dangerous. To the…the wrong and…impossible, and no, she wasn't gonna kiss Spike again.
Probably.
She suddenly realized that Willow was still looking at her expectantly. "That good, huh?" her friend said dryly.
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek. "No, no, it was – fine. We're fine."
"Fine? What did you do, just beat him up until he was all, 'Hey, I don't bloody like the bloody Slayer'?"
"Uh, well, actually I – "
But before Buffy could scramble for some sure-to-be-terrible lie, the door swung open and Giles entered, carrying a large paper sack. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Giles, here, let me get that for you," she ordered, hopping up and taking the package from him, easily holding it over one shoulder. "You sit down and have some leaf water or whatever it takes for you stodgy British types to get all hyped up for training, because I am totally jazzed this morning." She gave him her best winning smile as she set the sack down on the table.
"Er, well…thank you, Buffy. I think I'll just have a bit of coffee, if you can contain yourself long enough for that." Giles said the last part under his breath.
"I know you've been all about the motivation lately, Buffy, but you sure seem extra pep-tastic this morning," Willow commented, flipping absently through one of the spell books she'd removed from the brown bag.
The Slayer laughed, not a little nervously. "Well, you know me. I just had a big old bowl of…pep…this morning. Start the day off right."
Honestly, Buffy just wanted a safe space to work off all of this completely non-Spike-related tension. And also to get away from prying Willow eyes. She was suddenly very grateful that she hadn't mentioned the whole Spike sitch to her Watcher. The last thing she needed was another pair of perceptive eyes that she could almost feel seeing right through to the events of the night before.
It's not like she should be feeling this guilty. She kissed him, that was it! It wasn't like it was her first time kissing a vamp. Hell, it wasn't even her first time kissing Spike, thanks to Willow's magical intervention last year.
So these guilty feelings were silly. She was silly, for making such a big deal out of it. She had just been proving a point to Spike, and now the point was proven. 101%. She didn't want him, she wasn't going to kiss him. She wasn't even going to think about how his lips were really nice and full and soft, or the way he had been surprisingly gentle but passionate, or how it had barely been a kiss, not really, so it didn't even count, which meant she could totally break down his door and say that they should have a free trial. Then he'd do that little seductive smile and that thing with his tongue that sent little bits of electricity through her body, and then they'd be kissing, just wrapped up in each other and not talking. Well, except he could maybe say her name every now and then, in that husky kind of tone he had sometimes. That would be okay.
"Hey, Buffy."
She blinked herself out of her not-at-all-Spike-related fantasy world to see Tara in front of her. Buffy offered her friend an apologetic smile. "Hey!"
"Sorry, you seemed spaced, but I had just been, um, reminding Willow about this p-party we were invited to, and I, uh, wondered if you might want to go," she said, twisting her hands a little. Buffy realized that Tara still wasn't used to initiating Scooby plans. She wasn't really in a party mood, but for Tara's sake…
Plus, vampire-free zone.
"Yeah, sounds like fun! We can, uh, gather up the whole gang. Just hang out and stuff. It'll be fun."
Buffy wasn't really sure who she was reassuring anymore, but Tara smiled awkwardly again and disappeared into the back room.
Training was…interesting. She was a little off her game.
"Buffy, really! Are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?" Giles asked finally, wiping sweat from his brow in exasperation.
"Yeah! Well…kind of. Could you maybe repeat like the last…four paragraphs?"
Even the winning smile couldn't save her this time. Giles gave her his trademark Fatherly Sigh and took a seat on the bench. "Is this about Spike?"
It was like all the air was sucked from the room, which somehow caused all of her blood to rush directly to her head. "What? How did you – What?"
Giles cleared his throat and looked at her. She superstitiously tried to clear her mind of all the baddirtywrong vampire fantasies currently crawling across her synapses. Or between. Whatever. She had barely passed intro Psych anyway, and the fact that her professor had been a crazed psychopath murdered by her own cyber-Frankenstein hadn't really helped matters.
"Joyce called me," he explained gently. "While you were out. She didn't tell me the details, but, well, I could hardly say I was surprised. It does provide quite a context for his more…selfless behavior of late."
Buffy looked away. "Yeah, I guess it does."
"I know that Spike has been lending a hand lately. If you need me to, well, pick up the slack in any way, I would be happy to."
She gave him a grateful smile, but shrugged off the offer. "It's really okay, Giles. Five by five – okay, so I still don't know what that means, but anyway. We talked it out."
Giles looked taken aback, and not a little skeptical. "The somewhat psychotic, leashed vampire who spent years trying to kill you falls in love with you and – you 'talk it out'?"
"Well…sometimes he can be reasoned with."
"I'm not going to be bloody reasoned with!"
Spike glared fiercely at the well-meaning demon. Clem stood there awkwardly, slipping his hands into the folds of his skin like they were pockets.
"Well, I'm just saying, you know, maybe give her a little space," he said, frowning.
Spike scoffed. Like he'd ever take advice from Clem, especially in matters of the heart. He was a nice bloke, all things considered, but he was about as assertive as a plate of Jell-O. "I can't do that," he said, like he was talking to a child. "She'll listen to her little gang and before I know it, ol' Spike will be out on his duff. I've gotta make my move and show her that I'm worth a second go, which means I have to get to that party…"
Clem held up his watch helpfully.
Balls.
"Five minutes ago. It's been lovely, give my best to your mum."
"Good luck!" Clem called after him. "I'll tape Dawson's Creek for you!"
He could smell the party before he opened the door. Cheap beer, cheap perfume, and sweat. Like a bloody potpourri of Californian college students. Some preppy kid opened the door and invited him in without Spike even having to ask a thing.
He chuckled to himself. Lucky for them that he wasn't a danger to humans anymore. Honestly, how could anybody in Sunnydale be so daft as to invite a stranger in their house?
Spike quickly scanned the crowd. Seemed Scooby-free. His stomach clenched. If she didn't show up…
He would have watched the whole bloody evening and made Clem tape Dawson's for nothing. Screw it. Wasn't like he'd had any big plans for the night anyway. At least here they'd have some tasty food, although he wasn't going to count on them having any booze worth drinking. Spike made his way over to the little snack bar, where a few awkward-looking twentysomethings were hovering around the chips and dip. He ignored them and went straight for the hot wings.
God, nothing had changed since his day. The women wore shorter skirts and the men (if they could be called that) were in sandals. The music was louder and played by a DJ. Other than that, it could have been a carbon copy of an evening at the Underwoods', or any such family. He could spot it right over there. Nerdy bloke, lovely girl, in the corner. She was talking to him, all right, but any idiot could see that she was gazing at some other wanker, who was lovestruck over some other bird. It was laughable.
What was even more laughable was how well he fit in. Over a hundred, and here he was staking out a party just to see if some woman who acted as if she didn't care would show up. Oh, but he was pathetic.
He was shaken from his introspection (not brooding, dammit!) by the unpleasant sound of a very familiar voice. At that moment, it might have been angels singing or what all, because he felt himself smiling. Xander Harris was here. That meant…
"Ooh, Buffy, there are the snacks!" rang out Red's cheerful voice. His smile grew just a little wider as the three girls drew closer, Buffy flanked by Willow and Tara. "And the drinks and the…"
"Spike," Buffy cut in, glaring. It looked gorgeous on her, like everything did, and her little ensemble tonight was just the icing on the cake. "Who really, really shouldn't be here."
His first instinct was to snipe right back at her, but the look in her eyes gave him a bit of pause. That wasn't pure hostility shining in her eyes, like he expected. She looked pissed off enough, sure, but she also seemed almost vulnerable. Was she afraid of having her mates find out that she'd been kissing the Big Bad?
Spike gave her his best adoring smile – didn't take much to conjure one up, thinking about her kissing him again. "You're right, Buffy," he agreed readily. "I shouldn't be here. I just got a bit…lonely. But…I should go, yeah? Not my place. I just thought…"
She frowned at him, like she was trying to pick out his ulterior motive. Good luck, Slayer. "Thought what?"
He cut his eyes obviously to Red and Tara, who were watching raptly. "Thought you might want to talk about the other night, lover," he said, all innocent and sotto voce.
Oh yes. That was it. The Slayer turned a fiery red. "Excuse me?" she hissed, eyes flaring. "Noth – don't call me – urgh." She grabbed him by his jacket collar and pulled him to a more remote corner of the room, only sparing a quick glance back at the other Scoobies.
He'd been so long with enhanced hearing that he couldn't guess if they'd heard what he said or not, but Buffy was obviously invested in keeping her friends in the dark. So, just to brass her off, he leaned in intimately. "Couldn't stay away, eh?"
"Spike!" Buffy shoved him away, and he thanked whatever deity didn't hate him too much for his grace in that moment as he narrowly avoided falling into a couple of co-eds. He regained his balance and raised an eyebrow at the Slayer.
"That was weak. Just don't have the heart to be mean to me anymore, do you?" he teased, licking his lips. Spike could feel her tense up.
"What do you want?" she asked through gritted teeth, folding her arms.
Spike mimicked her pose, but allowed his face to drop into a seductive expression. "Oh, baby, I think you already know."
"Okay, number one – that kiss didn't mean anything, and it never happened, and we're never talking about it again because it never happened. Got it? Number two – if you think I won't kick your ass in a room full of strangers, you're dead wrong. This conversation is over." She started to turn.
He caught her arm gently. She looked at him, surprised, but didn't remove him.
"So if the kiss didn't mean anything to you, I guess you'd just, what, throw me out a window if I tried to kiss you now?"
She could have sworn that her blood froze. It was like she'd directly deposited about a dozen Popsicles into her veins.
Buffy tried her best to recover. "I wouldn't have to, because you wouldn't try."
"Ooh," he said under his breath. How could he even do that? He was a vampire, vampires didn't need to breathe. Spike sure breathed a lot for an undead person…thing. Thing, not a person. Yep, denial!Buffy was back. "Is that a challenge, pet?"
She suddenly thought a lot of words that she would never use around Dawn. "No, nope, definitely not," she said quickly.
"Sure sounded like one to me," he mused, reaching up to tangle his hand in her hair. She swallowed and looked over at the Scoobies. They all seemed to be distracted by a very pretty girl – Willow and Xander, in particular, seemed interested in looking at her for as long as possible.
Not that that would make this okay. It was still Spike, and she was still Buffy, and right now she wanted nothing more than to be pressing her lips to his, weirdness be damned.
But…she wasn't just Buffy. She was also the Slayer, and she wasn't going to repeat the badness of her junior year of high school just to get some smoochies. Only it would be times ten because, hello, Spike. Already soulless and evil (even if he wasn't very good at it anymore).
She pushed him away, seriously this time. He looked disappointed, but he didn't try to stop her. Buffy left wordlessly, struggling with every step not to look back at him, knowing what his face would look like.
It's just lust. He's just a dumb vampire and once I meet a real guy, one who can be with me and-
She heard screams.
Her first instinct was to turn back and look at Spike, who had lost the kicked-puppy look and now appeared as confused as she felt. He raised an eyebrow; she shrugged slightly.
The sound of broken glass.
Buffy whirled and ran, vaguely aware of Spike's footsteps following hers. The pretty girl the others had been talking was standing there in front of the window, and a bloodied body was just visible on the outside.
"Keep her from going anywhere," she ordered. Spike nodded.
Buffy leapt out the window, heart beating like a million times a minute. This was all her fault, so caught up in…talking to Spike that something like this happened practically right under her nose. Well, okay, behind her back, but still. In her general vicinity, and she was the Slayer, and it was bad. And wrong, and proof that Spike was bad news. Not that she needed proof. Obviously.
The man was pretty seriously hurt, but not dead. More tellingly, he didn't have any bite marks or other defining marks. He just looked like he'd had the crap beaten out of him, by fists. Small fists.
Buffy clambered back into the room full of madness. Spike was on the floor, a little bloody but not too much the worse for wear. She strode up to the girl, who on closer inspection appeared to be a robot.
"Hey, can you maybe just calm your – whoa."
She narrowly ducked a punch Robo-Girl threw, and used the momentum to slam her to the floor. Robo-Girl seemed unfazed.
"Where's Warren?" she asked loudly. "I don't like the people at this party."
"Why did you hurt that man?" Buffy asked warily.
Robo-Girl shrugged. "He touched me. I don't let anyone touch me except my boyfriend."
"Warren."
Her smile grew even wider. Uncanny valley, much? "Yeah," she said with a dreamy sigh. "Do you know where he is?"
Buffy wasn't sure how to answer, but in her moment of hesitation, ambulance sirens began to sound. Someone must have called 911. Robo-Girl turned tail and ran out, at a speed even Buffy wasn't sure she could match.
"You'll get 'er, love," said a voice, and she felt the familiar tingles on her neck and in her stomach. Buffy was aware that Spike was standing right behind her, and her already-accelerated heartbeat sped to Riley-post-Initiative proportions. "And while you're at it, pay her back for me, will you? Think she dislocated my shoulder." Spike grimaced.
"Thanks," she said honestly. "It's nice to have someone else less fragile to throw at the bad guys."
Up went the scarred eyebrow again. "That what I am to you, sweetheart? Just a tough little chew toy to keep the nasties occupied?"
Buffy shrugged. "Well, you asked," she replied, knowing he would understand what she meant.
He did, and a slow smile spilled over his lips. "Better than your last answer. Don't expect I could get an encore of that k-"
"No," she said firmly, but she could tell her eyes weren't serious as she said it. The Scoobies had gathered around during the exchange, although from the lack of stones thrown at her they hadn't caught on to the innuendo.
Buffy looked around at her friends. Tara was still looking out the window as the paramedics took the man away. Willow wrapped an arm around her lover's waist, smiling encouragingly. Xander and Anya looked like they'd just broken apart from dancing, and their hands were still linked. She couldn't look at Spike.
Buffy offered the group a smile. "I think we're gonna be Bronzing it tonight, guys. If that's okay, I mean. It's still early, and who knows, we might even catch little miss Terminator."
They nodded and provided their assent. Only when they began to file away through the crowd did she turn to Spike, still waiting at her side like a faithful puppy. She stifled a giggle at the image.
"Am I welcome at this little gathering?" he asked, obviously trying to keep any emotion from his voice.
Buffy looked at him, really looked at him. He had been helpful lately, and she could definitely control her hormones for a couple of hours…right?
"Will you play nice?" she replied teasingly.
His tight lips broken into a grin. "Well, I won't make any promises…"
This was going to be mega-interesting.
