Title: Sweet Pain

Author: Hope

Rating: R

Disclaimer: They're Joss', not mine.

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A/N: I wrote this chapter quickly seeing as I won't be able to post tonight. The begining's a bit more light hearted than the other chapters, enjoy :)

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Five sets of eyes looked up as the bell above the Magick Box's door jingled. Spike walked in, carrying himself in his usual cocky manner. Tara and Willow paid him little heed and went back to the laptop in front of them, Xander ground his teeth and made a comment about 'clingy undead guys', Dawn gave the vampire a genuine smile, and Buffy looked at him sympathetically.

"'ey Bit." He ignored the others and pulled up a seat next to the teen. Dawn, his 'one person'.

"Hi Spike, what's up?"

"Not much, just came to see if the Scoobs could use some help in the research department," He shrugged and looked at Buffy, "or the muscle department, either way."

"Not much to research, Spike. We're just checkin up a some current prophecies to see if any involve good ole Sunnydale." Willow chimed, giving the vampire a small smile. Maybe Willow cared, but then again, that was still only two people.... "You might as well go patrol with Buffy, there's nothing much to do here." Her eyes fell to Buffy, who was looking at her frantically, as if begging her to shut up. The last thing she wanted to do was patrol with Spike.

"I'm up for, if it's okay with you, Slayer."

"Whatever." Buffy said, trying to sound casual. She stood from her seat and headed towards the door.

"Bye, Nibblet." Spike said, ruffling the girl's hair as he stood and followed after her.

*****

The pair walked in silence, only speaking when it was neccesary to save each others butts from being mualed by vamps. An ocaasional 'Watch out' or 'Duck' was all that was said. Buffy watched out of the corner of her eye as the vampire pulled his lighter and a cigarette, placing it between his lips and flicking the lighter open. The same lighter she had found in her couch.... He looked to his side to see her watching him and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Why do you smoke?" She asked, cocking her head at him.

He looked at her like she was mad before shrugging his shoulders. Smirking, he answered, "Why not?"

"Well, it's just kind of dumb. I mean, you're not alive, so you can't be addicted. It's really just a waste of money."

"So now you're concerned about my budget?"

She smiled slighty and looked to the ground, shaking her head. "No. It's just, stupid, I guess." she looked up at him, still smiling. "And gross." It was a stupid habit, in her opinion, along with the drinking....and the cutting.

He took another hit off the fag and turned to blow the smoke in her face, grinning. "S'not that bad." She coughed, trying to blow the smoke away with her hands.

"Spike!!" She sputtered, taking a step away from him. "That was way gross."

"Not really, here." He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and reached over, offering the smoke to the girl.

"No way, I'm not smoking that death stick. I've already died more than my fair share of times, I don't need to speed up the process."

"One hit won't kill you." He protested. She stopped, letting out a defeated sigh and taking the cigarette from his hands. He was right, it wouldn't kill her to humor him for once. He smirked as she put it to her lips, taking a tiny hit. She sputtered and pulled it from her mouth.

"There, you happy?" She made a face at the nasty taste it left in her mouth.

"Oh come on, Slayer, that didn't count. You have to inhale it." He snatched it back, taking a long drag off of it and blowing the smoke out his nose. "Like that." He offered it back to her.

She made a face and accepted it, hesitantly sucking in the heavy smoke. She inhaled it quickly, intending to get it overwith as fast as possible. Big mistake. She broke into a coughing fit as the smoke entered her system. She could hear Spike laughing at her.

"Cor, Slayer. It may not kill you, but it'll sure as hell make you cough alot."

She made a face and spit on the ground, trying to rid herself of the taste. It didn't work, so she resorted to scowling at the grinning vampire. "That was even worse than that brandy you made me drink."

"I didn't make you drink anything, you just needed something to do while I player kitten poker. Was your choice, really."

She threw the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with her shoe. "That's a really stupid habit." He shrugged, pulling another one from his pocket and lighting it just to annoy her. "Stoppit." She demanded, pulling it from his mouth and throwing it to the ground. He cocked his head to the side, blowing the small amout of smoke he had been able to inhale out throught the side of his mouth. He looked down at her, smirking. "What are you doing?" She asked, glowering.

"Looking."

"At what?"

"You." They locked eyes, neither moving for a few moments. Their toes touched as they watched each other. Swallowing hard, Spike took a step closer to her, brushing a hand down the side of her face. She looked into his hopeful eyes before clenching her shut and taking a step back.

"Spike, no." She said quietly, backing out of his reach. His expression changed from a hopeful look to a cold glare as he shook his head.

"You didn't tell them, did you?"

Her eyes fell to her feet, "No..."

He nodded, his features grim. "Fine." He stated coldly, turning and walking away from her. Go brood in your crypt, you're acting more and more like the Poofster everyday. He shook the thought from his head when she placed her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "What?" He asked, not turning to face her.

"Will you be okay?" She asked softly, concern evident in her voice.

He chuckled grimmly, "Just as 'okay' as I've been over the past few months, I suppose."

She ran her hand from his shoulder down his arm, looking him in the face, "Just don't do anything you'll regret, okay?"

He looked at her, trying to keep his eyes from watering up. "Fine." He said quickly, pulling away and heading back to his crypt. Buffy watched him go before heading back to get Dawn.

*****

Don't do anything you'll regret. He sneered at the thought, flipping the blade in his hands. The only thing he had regreted about his little 'habit' was allowing Buffy to find him. He could care less what he did to himself, it made him feel better in a way.

A really sick way.

He shut his head up by digging the blade back into his arm, retracing a dim scar of her name. Buffy. He stopped and watched as the letters bubbled up, eventually molding together and becoming unreadable. Just a blob of sticky blood, not even warm. Stupid slayer. Maybe he would tell her friends about their little 'relationship', if that's what you could call it. Not really much of a relationship in the sense, seemed like more of a stand than anything.

Right then Spike, less brooding, more cutting.

He dug the blade deeper, not wanting to cry again. He had cried too much lately and thinking about all his problems only made it worse. Physical pain he could deal with, but emotional pain was a whole other story.......

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Thanks to those who have read this far!! I feel so loved, please review!!