Part X

YAY chapter 10, sorry I'm excited.

Spike hopped out of the bed. The one he shared with Buffy. He smiled to himself as he pulled a sweatshirt from a drawer and stepped outside. The air was cold, compared to the warmth of the bed. He fumbled with his package of cigarettes, his finger's shaking as he tried to light a match.

"Damn things." He mumbled, flicking the cheap cardboard match against the rough spot on the matchbox. Finally it sparked and flamed. He took a long draw of the cigarette and exhaled, they were getting closer to where he wanted to take her. His first plan had been to take her straight to Canada and fly to somewhere exotic. Lately he had changed his plan to take her to see somewhere special to him. The New England area was where they were headed. Neither of them had seen anymore 'wanted' posters which was a major plus in his mind. Spike leaned up against the RV and gazed up at the stars. How did I end up here? He hoped for an answer from them, but he couldn't find it. He wanted to do something special for her. Buffy had brought him a bag of her own blood, some new clothes and a couple of extra goodies. He had nothing to give her and it killed him. She said him being there was more than she could ask for, but he still felt she deserved something real, something relatively normal. Finishing his cigarette he flicked the butt onto the ground and covered it with dirt. Buffy hadn't moved from her spot on the bed. She looked so peaceful. Spike stripped off the sweatshirt and sat on the padded bench across from the bed, just watching her. He smiled at how beautiful she looked. If anything happens to her, I swear I'm going to kill myself.

~

"William."

"Yes mum." Spike looked at his mother. He knew it was only a dream but she looked so alive. He reached out for her hand and she took it.

Bridgett looked at her son with pain in her eyes. "You have grown so much my little William. I missed you so much when you left. As you know your father did not care but I cried every night for you. You were my favorite, my little precious. When you left, I wanted to die, yet I had your sisters to look after. I could not leave them in the hands of your father. I hated him, but I loved his family. You remind me much of him, yet much of you is like myself. I loved that man with my heart, as I know you love a woman. She is good for you my child. She loves you, and you her. You know what is right for her, do what must be done. Now I must leave you my dear William but I will always be with you. She wears it, as I did when your father gave it to me."

Spike tried to hold back tears but they came forth anyway. His mother cupped his face in her hands, wiping them away. "Don't leave me, tell me what I need to do. Mummy." He reached out for her as she placed a soft kiss on his forehead and vanished. Spike reached out; finding Buffy looking very stunned by his actions.

"Spike?" She looked down at him. Unknowing that last action was the very same was Spike had seen in his dream. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just had a bad dream. That's all." He looked up at her from his position on the bench. He had fallen asleep when he had sat down to watch her.

"Well it must have been pretty bad. You were crying. Are you sure everything's all OK?" Buffy snuggled up against him, clad only in a large T-shirt, which she had pulled her arms into.

"I'm fine luv. But looks like you've lost your arms." He gave her one of his cute smirks. She jokingly shoved her elbow into his chest. "Ouch, Not fair slayer." Spike kissed her on the neck and began at once to tickle her. She forced her arms out of the shirt in order to attempt to push him away. Nothing would get him to stop.

"Spike. This. Is. Not. Fair. AHH." Buffy forced words out between her giggles.

~ Sunnydale Early Summer 2004

Dawn forced open the door of Spike's crypt. She'd caught the one night a week when he stayed in his own home. Thursdays, there was no reasoning behind it that's just the day Spike stayed at home. Donning Buffy's clothes, perfume, and a haircut similar to her sisters, she stepped in the dank, dark crypt.

"Luv, I thought we discussed you don't bother me today and I don't bother you." Spike yelled from across the room. There were no candles lit, and no lights in the crypt this evening. Just how Dawn had wanted it. She began chanting a spell that was supposed to change her voice to sound like her sisters. Time to try it out.

"I couldn't sleep, we need to talk." Perfect. I sound just like her. Xander better be doing his part. Dawn wandered over to the couch and plopped down onto it, waiting for Spike to approach.

"Pet, we discussed this was the day we get to each other." Spike wandered, clueless over to the couch. The shape in front of him looked like Buffy, and smelled like Buffy, but something about her made him a bit uneasy.

"I couldn't help it Spike. I need you. Make love to me."

Xander darted across the roof of Buffy's house. He knocked on the window where she slept and watched as she jumped up out of bed, stake in hand. Here goes nothing. Dawn better be shagging him, otherwise this is not going to work. He stuck out his tongue at her and jumped from the roof, running as fast as he could to Spike's cemetery. Buffy followed close behind him, but lost him at the cemetery.

"I know you're out there Xander. I'm not afraid to stake you. Come out, come out wherever you are." Buffy called into the darkness of the night. There was no moon, and even stranger, no lights coming from Spike's crypt.

"I'm hiding, but Buffy, while you're trying to find me, why don't you find out what's going on in Spike's crypt?" Xander called from a tree.

"And I should listen to you because?" Buffy meandered through a few headstones.

"If you don't, you won't understand why Spike like's Thursdays to himself. Isn't just a little odd?" Xander knew he had hooked her.

"We both decided we needed alone time. No harm in that. Besides, I don't want to catch him getting himself off to some magazine or something." Buffy tried to sound cool but he had grabbed her attention. Spike had insisted on Thursdays, but she had thought nothing of it. Slowly she walked over to the single window in the crypt and shined her flashlight in. She froze in complete disbelief. Spike was shagging her sister, the vampire, on his couch. She wanted to throw herself through the window and stake them both. He was supposed to be her ally, her friend, and here he was, screwing the enemy. Buffy sprinted home as fast as she could, not worrying about Xander; he would be around to stake later. She curled up in bed, pulled the sheets up over her head and cried for hours. Finally Buffy fell asleep as the golden sun was rising over the Sunnydale horizon.

Spike heard Xander's voice outside, calling Buffy's name, taunting her. But Buffy was in his arms, shagging his brains out, right? Then he heard her voice and knew something was wrong, he had thought so before, but it hadn't occurred someone else could be with him. Buffy was here with him, yet she was outside stalking the whelp. He saw a flashlight and jumped up. Buffy was outside, so who the hell was in the crypt?

"What the hell? Who in the bloody hell are you?" Spike glared down at the supposed Buffy. The figure grabbed him and threw him back down on the couch, mercilessly pounding down on him. He cringed, this wasn't Buffy, she wasn't this forceful and mean. The love of his life was going to catch him being raped by some street chic phony, who both smelled and dressed like his Buffy. The flashlight beam streamed in through the single window in the crypt. It bathed him and the woman in light and he froze, expecting to hear Buffy burst in. He waited, he wasn't a pile of dust on the floor, he was still alive, but Dawn was grinning, fangs bared, completely naked, down at him. He punched her square in the nose and heard it crack. She whimpered softly, grabbed her sister's clothes and ran off into the cemetery. Spike lay stunned on the couch. He should've fought her off, he should've known it wasn't Buffy, it never would've been Buffy. Now it never would be Buffy. Spike stood up and pulled on his jeans, black T-shirt and duster, and wandered outside. He'd kill the stupid bint. She'd fucked him (literally and figuratively), and she did it on purpose. She'd gotten rid of any inkling of trust Buffy had put into him, because he was a horny, stupid, vampire. He knew he'd never regain Buffy's trust, or love, ever again. He was better off dead; he'd kill Dawn and wait for morning. He'd sit on Buffy's roof, just outside her window and watch the sun rise for the last time.

Spike didn't find Dawn that evening and he'd swore he'd kill her first, for Buffy and for himself. He had curled up on the roof outside her window, desperately wanting to go in and comfort her. She lay in bed, her pillow soaked in tears and mascara trailing down her cheeks. Yet he was the cause of her pain and he had no way to make her forget it, he waited until the sun began to peer over the horizon before starting back to the crypt.

~

"Slayer, I love you but, this is too much. Don't come near me with those bloody things. You're going to screw up and I don't fancy trying to fix a bad haircut!" Spike stood facing Buffy, using a chair as a boundary. She had hair clippers in her hand, attempting to shorten his shaggy, freshly bleached locks. As much as he loved her, he couldn't let her touch his hair, it was too much a part of him, and he couldn't handle her doing anything else to it.

"That's not fair. I let you cut mine, just let me try." Buffy pleaded with him. She was about ready to throw him the killer Summer's puppy eyes but decided against it. Dawn had used them too many times on him for him to forget. It would screw over the fun. "Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"No pet, there's a reason I can cut your hair, I'm relatively good at it, and all you need is a trim, I need grooming work. There's a nice barber down the road, I'll just stop in tonight." Spike picked up the chair, fending her off with it.

"Fine, meanie-head." Buffy stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. Spike put the chair down, pulled her close and sucked on her pouting lip, turning it into a nice kiss. "That's not always gonna fix things you know." Buffy said when she got a moment to breathe, Spike didn't give her long before he kissed her again. She attempted to pull away to say something else, but he wouldn't let her, holding her close, arms wrapped around each other.

Sorry guys, I know this took forever to put out, I've been so bogged down by stuff, I had a poetry notebook due next week that I got an extension on, but I procrastinated so I screwed myself. I've got so many papers to write but this gives me a break. And if you're looking for some other reading, check out my other story, my new story, WHAT WE MOST FEAR, or a re-post GETTING CLOSER. Have fun with whatever you're doing, I'm working on what I love most, writing. Please keep reviewing!!!!