AN: Hope everyone is still with me on this one. Please enjoy the next chapter!
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Life after Death
By Secret Slayer
Chapter Four
Tantrum
Buffy slams the door shut behind her, heavily yanking the lock across. The action instantly triggers another vision – another memory.
"Leave me alone."
She's not in the bathroom anymore, but on the other side, gently knocking on the pristine white door. The bedroom is immaculate. The king-sized bed sits perfectly in the centre of the room with cream sheets and pretty pale pink cushions. There's a large window with floor to ceiling drapes, with dainty rose coloured flowers. They're pulled shut, only allowing a non-harmful soft glow of the afternoon sun through. From the ceiling hangs an expensive and delicate chandelier that resembles giant rain drops falling from the sky. Each rain drop shaped crystal refracts light around the room in a mesmerising display. Spike sits on the edge of the large bed, scowling at one of the cushions in his hand.
"Why'd we have to make this room so bleedin' girly?"
Buffy rolls her eyes, abandoning her door knocking only briefly to remove the cushion from the vampire's hands before he pulls it apart. She carefully places it back in position at the head of the bed, giving it an approving nod.
"Don't try to distract me," she scolds.
She turns back to the door and raises her hand to knock on it again, when it swings open and her hand collides with a solid chest instead.
"Have you gone insane?" Angel asks genuinely.
"I'm not the one that just threw a complete tantrum and locked myself in the bathroom," Buffy retorts, glaring at him disapprovingly.
"But Spike? C'mon Buffy, you can't be serious," Angel raises both his eyebrows in the direction of the other vampire, giving Spike a dubious look. "I mean, look at the hair for a start."
"That's rich mate, coming from you," Spike scoffs.
"Angel, Spike and I are together now. I'm cookies. I've finished baking," she says softly.
Angel's shoulders slump. "I can't believe you called me over from Peru to tell me this."
A loud bang on the door knocks the vision from Buffy's mind and she finds herself sitting on the closed toilet seat, her head in hands and her newly brunette hair falling like a curtain in front of her face.
"Come on luv, open the door," Spike says encouragingly. "We need to talk."
Buffy looks up angrily, "Don't call me luv. Don't call me anything. I don't want to talk. I want to go home."
There's a moment of silence and Buffy sighs with relief, but then the door bursts open and Spike stands there, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions. Mostly hurt, she notices, but also a lot of anger and frustration.
"We need to talk," he says sternly.
"You know what? Soul or no soul, I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave me alone."
"News flash kitten. You don't scare me."
Buffy glares at him and rises from her seat, marching right up to him and landing a punch square in the nose. He stumbles back, his game face coming to the fore. His mouth twists into a wicked smile and he licks his fangs hungrily, instantly relishing the fight.
"So you wanna dance?" he leers.
Like a boxer, he hops from one foot to the other, fists raised.
Buffy storms forward again and lands another punch to his face, but this time he doesn't stumble. She looks at him apprehensively, surprised at the lack of impact her punch had. She pulls her other fist back and places it in the same place as before. He laughs at her poor efforts. Her faces blushes red with anger and she pulls her fist back again, but just inches from his face, he catches it, twists her arm and pulls her flush against his chest, his other arm pinning her to him around her waist.
"Let me go," she warns through gritted teeth.
"Not until you play nice," he replies in a condescending tone.
She struggles once to no avail. She can't break his grip. He smirks when she finally stills and he releases her, taking a step back. Buffy turns around to face him, subconsciously rubbing her arm where he's been holding her, the bruises already forming. Future Spike was a lot stronger and faster than the vampire from her time.
"You're getting faster," Buffy admires, then smirks cruelly. "But not fast enough."
She leaps over a headstone, chasing the bleached fiend. He's running so fast he's a blur to most, but not her. She's right on his tail.
"That right Slayer?" Spike replies over his shoulder. "'Cause from here, looks like I'm winning."
Buffy's eyes glisten with mischief and she pushes ahead faster, her muscles burning in her legs. She leaps over another headstone and straight into his path. He skids to a stop to avoid running into her, churning up the soggy earth beneath his black boots. She laughs and skips over the white painted line in the grass.
"I win," she beams.
Willow looks at her stop watch, smiling proudly. "Fastest time yet."
"You bloody cheated. I want to go again," the vampire grumbles, exhaling dramatically as though his dead lungs actually required the oxygen. Human habits never die.
"I must say, you're both making extraordinary progress," Giles admires, cleaning his glasses. He primly places them back on his nose, taking the clip board from Willow and examining it.
"Yay, I'm top of the class for once in my life," Buffy says happily.
"So Watcher, all this training is paying off right?"
Giles nods enthusiastically. "Indeed. Together, you're almost unstoppable."
Buffy blinks and the memory fades. Her head is hurting. Spike is watching her with his human face now back in place, his eyes dark with grief and frustration. There's a heavy feeling of guilt in her chest that appears seemingly out of nowhere and she wonders if it's induced by the life she hasn't lived yet. However it got there, she can't shake it. Spike was doing his best to help her and all she could do was try and throw it back in his face. She isn't happy with her future decisions, but being a bitch about it isn't going to get her home any quicker.
"I'm sorry Spike," she sighs. "You're trying to help me and I'm just being a total bitch about it."
Spike looks at her curiously. He knew this Buffy better than she knew herself. She never would have apologised to him, especially not for punching him. His mind briefly wonders back to a Sunnydale alley way.
"You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never ... be your girl!"
He shakes his head and laughs bitterly.
"You always hurt the ones you love," he says, giving her a sad smile.
She frowns at him, his words seeming familiar, but she can't quite grasp why. She's sure she's heard him say that before, but there's not enough around her to trigger a clear memory.
"There are so many things I don't understand," Buffy sighs. "This is giving me an apocalypse sized migraine."
Buffy slumps down onto the armchair in the living room, leaning forward and raking both hands through her hair, which is amazingly soft from Abbie's treatment on it. Spike sits opposite her on the coffee table, their knees barely touching. She looks up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. Spike tilts his head as though trying to figure her out.
Buffy jumps when a black cat suddenly jumps onto her lap. It purrs loudly, rubbing itself against her chest, seemingly very happy to see her. The slayer raises a dubious eyebrow at the vampire, who's frowning disapprovingly at the feline.
"You have a cat?" Buffy asks, trying to stifle a laugh.
Spike glares at her, "Not bloody mine."
The cat's fur is softer than anything Buffy has ever felt before and its eyes are large and round, with one green and one amber eye. The way it looks at her is a little bit unsettling – almost human.
"This isn't a normal cat, is it?" Buffy asks.
"No," Spike replies. "He's a familiar."
"What's his name?"
Spike looks away and sighs heavily, "Mr Gordo."
Buffy frowns. "You called him Mr Gordo? You named him after my stuffed pig?"
Spike rolls his eyes. "No, you daft bint. You named him that. I'm looking after him for you."
"He's my cat?" Buffy asks in a soft voice.
"Yeah, he was."
The use of the word was seems to hit Buffy hard.
"How long ago did I die?"
Hurt flashes over the vampire's face, but he tries to remain nonchalant. "18263 today."
"Can't believe I'd let you look after my cat," Buffy says distractedly, enjoying the attention from the feline. "The guy who plays poker for kittens."
Spike chuckles, the mood lifting. "Well Dawn nearly killed him three times and Willow accidently turned him into a hamster, so I was all you had."
Buffy laughs. Genuinely laughs.
"This world is a mess Spike."
"That it is."
Mr Gordo suddenly jumps from the slayer's lap with a whining mewl and scurries under the refrigerator. Buffy pouts and Spike stares after the feline. A loud bang makes the front door tremble and both Buffy and Spike stand instinctively.
"Open the door," yells a voice on the other side. "We know she's in there."
"Bollocks," he curses, looking frantically from side to side.
"Spike what's going on?" Buffy asks.
"You gotta do what I say luv, or we're both dead," he whispers.
Buffy barely nods before the door flings off its hinges and slides across the full length of the floor. On the other side, stands an ugly demon in some sort of uniform. It's all of eight feet tall and has to practically duck in half to get through the door. It has putrid green skin and little brown horns sprouting from its brow. Behind, a smaller demon follows in with a matching uniform, holding a little electrical device that beeps faster when he gets closer to Buffy.
"Well what do we have here?" the big demon leers in a strange, gurgling voice, eyeing Buffy.
Spike stands between them to block his interrogating look and both demons sigh impatiently.
The tall demon chuckles darkly, circling the blonde and brunette. Its clumsy hooves clomp loudly on the floor and Buffy wonders if the decaying wood will withstand such a heavy monster. The ground trembles uncertainly with every step it takes.
"What would a vampire like you want with a human?" he muses, "When you know they're banned from your part of town."
Spike's eyes narrow, turning with the demon so that he's a constant barrier between him and Buffy.
"Thought I'd move back downtown," Spike says evenly. "Could do with a bit of company, something to have a nibble on. This one's pretty enough."
Buffy glares at Spike, which does not go unnoticed by the big demon.
"Oh dear. Got yourself one with attitude," he says, raising a knobbly brow.
The demon steps forward and shoves Spike out of the way. The vampire doesn't move far though and eyes the creature carefully as it leans in toward Buffy, its head just inches from hers. Buffy sets her chin defiantly as he looks her over. He grabs her face with a hand twice the size of her head, and turns it to inspect her. His breath turns Buffy's stomach. He releases her face with a rough push that sends her to the floor. Spike clenches his jaw to stop himself attacking the demon and helping Buffy to her feet. She rubs her elbow and goes to stand again, but the demon looks at her, indicating she should stay down. Buffy briefly glances at the vampire, who subtly nods, so she stays down. For now.
"She's not tagged," the demon finally announces, glaring at the little female human who dare look at him so disobediently.
"She's got a collar," Spike answers, feeling nervous at where things were going.
He could see the smaller demon reach into his uniform jacket and pull something out.
"Rules have changed. She needs a tag implanted. Bring her here," the little demon ordered. "Then we'll issue you a new licence."
Spike audibly swallows and Buffy feels a sick, cold feeling in her stomach from the expression on his face. He tries to swallow his nervousness, but she can see it clear as day.
"Right," he says hesitantly.
When Spike doesn't move, the big demon rolls its eyes and carelessly grabs Buffy by the elbow and hauls her to her feet, dragging her to the little demon.
"Get off me!" Buffy snaps.
She tries to pull her arm free, but the big demon is too strong.
"Oh this one can talk!" the little demon says excitedly. "What a wonderful find. No wonder you want to keep her."
The little demon reveals what he had had in his pocket. At first Buffy thinks it's some strange future contraption, but then she realises it's a syringe. She hates needles.
"This doesn't hurt," the little demon soothes, then smiles wickedly. "Much."
Suddenly, the floor gives an almighty groan and shudders, before giving way completely. The big demon loses its grip on Buffy and she sees it plummet below her, followed shortly by the little demon. She frowns, wondering why she's suspended in mid air. She looks up. Spike is leaning over the whole in the floor, his hand gripping to her jumper. She hears the fabric start to tear and she twists to reach her hand up, grabbing his just in time for the fabric to rip completely. He pulls her up through the whole and onto his lap, hugging her possessively.
"Erm Spike?" she says awkwardly. "Could you erm... let me go?"
Spike coughs to clear his throat.
"Sorry slayer," he says gruffly.
They both stand and anxiously walk to the edge of the crater in his living room, looking down at the identical craters that create a dark, seemingly endless pit through the below floors.
"You think they're dead?" Buffy asks.
"Unlikely. We need to get the bloody hell outta here."
TBC...