Spike, as always, was following Buffy as she patrolled. Since telling his that she could sense him, he had been testing that boundary almost every night. He could tell when he had gotten too close. If she were alone, her steps would be hesitant, but only for a split second. Only someone like he could see the small variance. So tonight, he stayed along that barrier.
He saw the demon before she did, struggling with himself not to surge forward to protect her. He never liked seeing her getting her beat down, except when he had been doing it; however, now was different. Now he wanted to help her, and it took every ounce of strength not to charge forward.
He knew the boundary between him and the Slayer's senses was nearing as he subconsciously progressed toward the battle, and he was determined not to break it. He found himself only several feet away, instead of the yards it should have been, when he noticed his mistake and hers. She sensed him. He saw her shift slightly, her attention momentarily focused elsewhere, and that's when the demon attacked. He watched as her small body was raised into the air over the demon's head and then smashed into the headstone with enough force to break a normal human in half. He winced as he heard a few bones crack, and he prayed silently that it was just her ribs, not her back. Spike watched the cowardly creature run off as the Slayer was crippled. "C'mon Buffy, get up," he whispered as she rolled from the towering block of stone onto the ground. "Get up, get up," he said frantically.
He smiled with relief as he saw her jump up, ready for another assault. He was too focused on her to see Riley before she was about to attack him. He sighed and shook his head, backing away from the two and remembering how things were supposed to be right now. He wasn't supposed to be here, not in this cemetery, or this time. He and Buffy weren't meant to be right now. They weren't meant to be anything but enemies right now. Well, for her. Of course, he'd never be the one to say that his small obsession of her started long before this. He was obsessed with killing her the moment he heard of his grand-sire "falling in love" with her. Because what kind of vampire could fall in love with the Slayer? One similar to him, apparently. Must be in my blood, he laughed to himself as he started walking to his new home. He stopped and thought a minute. Blood. Almost out. Of smokes, too. He dug out the bills in his pocket and thumbed through them. It's enough, he thought happily.
He looked up from his painted nails to see Buffy trying blow Riley off, but he wasn't really getting the message. Spike wanted to walk away. It wasn't his problem. But there was a certain look in that boy's eyes that he didn't like.
...
Days since the talk with her mother and Willow, Buffy had yet to approach Spike. Riley had finally convinced her to join the Initiative, but there were times she wouldn't patrol with her "squad." She much preferred being alone. Unless she was with... Her thoughts were cut short as a demon caught her off guard as she rounded a corner of the cemetery. The burly creature saw her and instinctively pursued her. They jabbed and kicked, both opponents hitting and missing. Buffy felt a familiar presence, effectively catching her off guard. Her feelings were quickly set aside as the demon picked her small body up and smashed her into a tombstone. It used the momentary advantage to run from the Slayer. She rolled onto the ground, and with her own momentum, propelled herself into her fighting stance. Sensing someone behind, she turned quickly, hands ready for attack.
Her fight was diminished as she saw Riley standing there, obviously in awe and shock of her previous moves. "Wow. Nice kicky- thing," he said. She fought the urge to tell him the actual name of that "kicky-thing" but refrained.
"What are you doing here?" she said sternly, feeling Spike's presence leave her peripheral senses.
"Looking for you. She who hangs out in cemeteries," he chuckled, using a line she had before when explaining exactly what a Slayer—what she—is.
Ugh. Why tonight? She groaned internally. "Well, I have to get the demon," she said unconvincingly pointing in the direction of the renegade demon.
"Don't worry. We'll bag it," he said nonchalantly.
"It's really not that simple," she said, trying to leave.
"Yeah, but... Look I really think—"
"Riley, I just... I can't," she said, cutting him off.
"Can't talk?"
"Can't any of it. It's a huge black pit of a mistake, and I can't go there again," she sighed, as if she'd said the entire thing once before.
"Again? You dated me before?" he asked, confusion evident on his round, baby-like face.
"No. Look, I was involved... You don't know what my life is like," she said, desperately trying to get him to leave her alone.
"And I'm dying to find out," he said, hoping the words he was saying would help his situation.
"Dying being the operative word here. Ok, there's just too much risk. There's just... It's just doomed. And I can't do doomed again right now. Sorry," she said, though she was anything but sincerely apologetic.
"I don't understand where this is coming from. I know you like me. And it's not like we don't have anything in common," Riley said sarcastically.
"But that's not enough!" Buffy groaned, quickly losing control of her emotions.
"Buffy, I'm thrown by this. I'm confused. But I can feel my skin humming. My hands, my every inch of me. I've never been this excited about anybody before. I'm not trying to scare you, and I'm not gonna force myself on you, but I am, by God, not gonna walk away because I think it might not work. I don't know what's happened in your past." His words were beginning to sound like desperate pleas.
"Pain. Death. Apocalypse. None of it fun. Do you know what a Hellmouth is? Do you have a fancy term for it? Because I went to high school on it. For three years. We do not have that much in common. This is a job for you," she said sternly.
"It's not just a job," he said, trying to make her see his side sa well.
"It's an adventure. Great. But for me, it's destiny. It is something I can't change, something I can't get out of. I'm stuck."
"You don't have to be. You're not in high school anymore. You can change things."
"Riley, no."
"I know it may seem—"
"Riley... My answer is no." Her answer. Definite. No one else had a say. She was tired of it. Tired of him trying to get into this non-existent relationship. Tired of not knowing who she was meant for, though she had a good idea of who it was. Tired of everyone else trying to tell her what to do. She turned, walking away from the army boy who was anxious to be more than just her friend.
"Is there someone else?" Riley asked hesitantly.
"It doesn't matter if there was. There's nothing between us, Riley," she said coldly. Her patience with him was wearing thin.
"Don't walk away from me," he growled, grabbing her forearm as she turned away once again.
"Let go of me," she warned, glaring defiantly into his eyes.
"Not until we talk about this!"
"There's nothing to talk about. Now, I'm not going to warn you again. Let. Go. Of. Me," she said, punctuating each word carefully.
The two eyed each other intently. Fury was rolling off of them both, and they knew that with one wrong move the other would go down. "I believe the lady told you to let you go of her," a voice came from beside them. Immediately, Buffy perked up, and the anger radiating from her lessened.
"Do I know you?" Riley asked, his hand still firmly attached to Buffy's arm.
"Doesn't matter," Spike replied, focusing on his hand. Finally getting the message, Riley removed his hand.
"I can handle myself," Buffy said, quietly.
"I know, pet. It was him would couldn't handle you," Spike smiled to her.
"Again, who are you?" Riley asked, becoming increasing upset.
"He's—"
"A friend," Spike smirked. "Now, why don't you and ya' army mates chase after that demon that just ran off?"
"We're not through here," he said to Buffy in a very unpleasant manner as she and Spike tried to walk away.
"No, we really are. There's nothing between us, Riley. So please, get the message," she said sternly, turning to face him.
"It's him, isn't it?" he asked, pointing in Spike's direction.
"He's got nothing to do with it," Buffy exclaimed, walking back to him. He's got everything to do with it, her mind retorted.
"So, I didn't just see the way you looked at him when he walked up? The way you perked up when you heard him?" Riley questioned angrily.
"It. Doesn't. Matter! It's none of your business, Riley."
"Yeah, it is my business! You've been leading me on for months, and then you just blow me off? Tell me the truth, Buffy!"
"The truth? Riley, you can't handle the truth!"
"Try me."
"Fine. Yes, it's him. This is Spike, the guy I was engaged to. Yes, I lied when I said it was a joke, and I'm sorry about that. But you know what, I don't care anymore. I don't have any romantic feelings for you, and right now, I don't even have friendly feelings for you. What is it
you want to hear?" she yelled.
Riley sighed and shook his head. "Nothing. I'll... I'll see you around. I'll get the squad after that—thing," he said as he turned and walked away from them.
...
Spike wasn't sure what it was the propelled him across the graveyard to come face to face with one of the guys who had been after him. It was probably the fact that the stupid boy thought he could get away with grabbing Buffy's arm. Along with the fact that he didn't let go, he found himself a little worried about the person that was quickly on Buffy's bad side. Leaping easily over the headstones, he was at Buffy's side before she could finish her threat, though neither realized he was there until he spoke up.
He smiled to himself a little as Buffy perked up, and almost chewed him out for showing up. He knew she didn't need him to help. But it was always nice to have a little back up. Almost as soon as he arrived, Riley was pointing fingers at him. 'S not my fault the girl doesn't want you. If you point that finger at me, I'll rip if off of your hand. There he goes again!
"It's him, isn't it?" the burly ponce accused.
"He's got nothing to do with it," he heard Buffy say. He could tell she was lying, which was a shock to him. He wasn't supposed to stand in the way of these two. They were supposed to be together until well after Dracula showed up.
"So, I didn't just see the way you looked at him when he walked up? The way you perked up when you heard him?" Riley asked. You noticed that, too, huh?
He noticed the boy's defeat long before Buffy. In fact, he knew he had given up as soon as he literally gave up his hold on her. He could not resist smiling as he walked off.
"Finally!" Buffy groaned as they started walking. He noticed the slight wince she gave whenever she inhaled too deeply.
"You a'right?" he asked as they walked.
"Think I may have cracked a rib," she hissed as she barely touched the too tender area.
"Think so, too. Heard somethin' when that demon smacked you against the stone."
"You were there, and you didn't help me?" she asked, her anger slowly started to rise again.
"Yeah. Didn't know you need my help. Looked like you were doing just fine," he responded.
"I was... 'Til it managed to get the upper hand."
"You could have always asked for my help," Spike smirked. He knew that would never happen.
"Fine. Next time, I will," she said, putting on her resolve face. Can't argue with that, he thought. "So... what were you doing out here anyway?"
Shit. "Going to the butcher. Almost out of blood," he shrugged.
"It's almost seven. Butcher closes at five."
"Forgot about that. Oh—"
"I know you were watching me," she said nonchalantly.
"What makes you think that?" he asked, deeply curious in how she knew, especially since he had been trying so hard to be careful.
"I—felt you," she said, trying not to sound dirty, even though with Spike's mind it didn't allow the words to sound innocent. After everything he'd been through, it took quite a bit of willpower not to provide an innuendo. "I mean, your presence. Your vampire-y presence. You know what I mean. That's what—" he voice trailed into a whisper as he understood.
"That's what let the demon get the upper hand," he said, a note of comprehending in his tone.
"Yeah," she nodded.
"What was that argument about? Between you and Capitan Cardboard?"
"Oh. He wanted there to be something between us, and I didn't. He just didn't get it that I wasn't interested."
Something I understand all too well. "So you two aren't—"
"Together? God, no. He's a nice guy, but my interests are... elsewhere," she said, sparing a look in his direction.
"Ahem, yeah. Well, guess I better get going..." he said, trying to shy away from their non-existent relationship from becoming more real.
"Spike, please don't do that. Don't shut me off like that. I have been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for months now."
"You've never had a problem with talking to me before. What makes lately any different?"
"Are you stupid or just ignorant?" she asked, starting to get upset again. "I mean, we had this spell put on us, making us fall in love with each other, and I don't know about you, but it doesn't exactly feel like it's broken to me! I—I can't stop thinking about you. When I patrol, I hope you'll show up just so I may have the chance to talk to you. I feel something here, Spike, and if you don't please let me know now so I can go apologize to Riley."
Spike was flabbergasted. Never had the Slayer talked to him like that before, and it was actually scaring him. "I am not stupid, or ignorant, first of all. And second... I know what you mean. But I—we—"
"Can't? Why? Because you're from the future, and you don't want to screw things up?"
"Uh—what?"
"Yeah, I know you're 'from the future'. Doesn't mean that you can treat me like this."
He was so tempted to throw some of the future stuff in her face. At least I'm not throwing you around, beating you up, and then shagging you senseless. At least I'm honest, telling you some things. "At least I can tell you I love you!" He hadn't intended for that last part to come out verbally. He just wanted the whole thing to be in his head. Too late now. That look on her face was enough to make him want to run. Run from her, from the situation, and especially from Sunnydale. He had done it now.
"You... You love me?" she whispered, her voice a small whimper. She was looking at him, her green eyes shining, full of hope and fear. He could hear her pulse speeding up in anticipation, and he could see a smile slowly creeping across her face.
He sighed. Too late now. Cover's blown. "Yeah, love. I do. Have for a while now."
The smile was spread from ear to ear, and all Spike could do was smile back. Most beautiful thing in the world is smiling at me. If I was staked now, I'd die the happiest man in the world. But as soon as he returned the smile, it was gone. "What?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he asked again, "What? Buffy, what's wrong?"
"I... I can't say it back... I-I don't know if I do. I have these feelings for you, but I can't explain them. I don't know how to."
"Slayer, it's okay," he said, trying to smile back.
"It's just... there's so much I don't know about you."
"Like what, pet?"
"Like... what's your real name? Who were you when you weren't with Dru? How old were when she turned you?"
"William Pratt. I was 25. We can answer more questions later. You look like you need to get to your Watcher's and get patched. Probably don't want any nasties seein' you like this, thinkin' you're damaged goods, yeah?"
"William," she said with a small smile. "Yeah, you're right. When can I get these questions out of the way?" she asked, mocking him lightly.
"Tomorrow, if you want to?"
"After patrol?"
He nodded with a big smile. Much easier than the last time, he thought. He turned to walk away when he heard her whisper his name. His given name.
"William," she whispered. He turned around again, this time to face her. In less than a second, she was standing nose to nose with him. He could smell everything on her now: the slight sweat from the fight, the anxiety from her conflict with Riley, and most prominent, her shampoo. Honey and vanilla. Completely intoxicating.
She reached up with her left—and good—arm to gently stroke his face. She moved closer to him still, and gently placed her lips on his. "That's a nice name," she breathed against his skin.
"Thanks, pet," he muttered, lightly wrapping an arm around her. It was easy for him to kiss her now. The feeling of her lips on his, her body so close to his, was so tempting to him. It took her pulling away for him to stop. "What?" he asked, wide-eyed and apprehensive.
"My ribs," she winced with a small laugh. "I've—uh—I've gotta go."
"Right. See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"'night, love," he said, kissing her forehead lightly.