Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stolen

Slayer and Vamp

"It was a coin," Buffy explained, her three companions sitting around the hotel room shared by the vampires; the newly awakened ones listening to her recount of the morning's activities with interest. "I thought I recognized it, and Giles said that it's only used by assassins in the underworld. Like they have their own currency or something."

"If they're good enough," the other vampire said, Spike's jaw setting in agreement before he looked at the Slayer.

"Seems they're here," she said. "And I know it might have been dropped by a previous customer or a traveler or whatever. Might even have belonged to a tradesman of some sort. But it might not. And I think that the readier we are for Not, the better."

"Still no sign of him?" the vampiress asked.

"No," the Slayer replied. "But he'll show. I can feel it. We just have to make sure nothing happens to him once he does. Whatever gave him the heebee's at Rosa's, he got them for a good reason. We should check out the closest stretch of forest, do a sweep around the premises and keep a keen eye out for anything that seems out of place."

"Sun's still up," the vampire remarked.

The Slayer looked at him.

"Yes. Let's have some dinner, shall we?" she said.

He looked rather disgruntled at that.

x

"It isn't that bad," Spike assured, taking his mug filled with pig's blood out of the microwave.

They were in the downstairs 'restaurant', consisting of one room, two tables, a handful of chairs, a stove, a small fridge and the microwave. Not exactly fine dining, but it was good enough.

"It's dead food," the other vampire replied to Spike's sentiment, shuddering. "It's still, un-flowing, dead food."

"It isn't that bad," the vampiress chimed in, smiling tryingly at her sire as she handed him his mug, bringing hers to her lips.

The Slayer watched her for a moment, then looked away, focusing on her cold salmon.

"It isn't that good, either," the vampire grumbled, staring into the mug with unhidden disgust. "I bloody can't," he stated, setting the mug down.

"You know, I can actually see you as a pretty nice skeleton," the vampiress remarked. "There's a look that would suit you. Might ruin the whole effect of the duster, but..."

He glanced at her darkly, but she merely smiled sweetly, handing him the mug again. He observed the liquid for another long moment, then brought the mug to his lips, tilted his head back and downed the whole thing in a series of hard, contracted gulps. When he was finished he looked ill.

"There you go," Spike said, smirking ever so slightly. "Wasn't that bad."

x

They decided to scour the landscape near the hotel, going in search of every conceivable, as well as inconceivable, spot for further clues as to who or what they were dealing with, the two Buffys heading off in one direction while the two vampires walked in the other.

They rendezvoused in front of the steps to the porch, half an hour later and none the wiser. Buffy felt Spike's eyes resting on her as they trudged up the steps and had a seat in the cushioned lawn-furniture which had been placed there, and as she sank deep into the softness beneath her, her body relaxing with a sigh of relief, Spike leaned forward.

"Should get some sleep, love," he murmured.

His voice was like something from a dream, beckoning her. She snapped out of it, giving him a slight look.

"I'm not tired," she deflected his statement, but a second later a yawn betrayed her.

He smirked.

She sighed, getting to her feet.

"Fine," she muttered. "Come get me in two hours."

She said the last part to the vampiress, trusting her more to actually listen to the instruction than what she trusted Spike to honor her wishes. He would probably let her sleep until she woke by her own accord, the miscreant.

But it was the sweetest sensation, once she could crawl under the sheets and pull them up to her chin. Sleep settled itself like a well-known friend behind her eyes; breathing its calm across her forehead and making her drift an inch above her pillow. That sense of weightlessness was the most soothing sensation of all, taking away the responsibilities and allowing her to forget how heavy her body could feel. That was why she didn't like sleeping anymore. Waking was like digging herself out of her grave, over and over.

But here, in this place, with the seventeen year old slayer vampire replica of herself downstairs, her grave seemed so very far away. And perhaps she wouldn't have to revisit it when waking this time. Perhaps.

Distantly she heard a door open and close. She barely registered it, being too close to a state of peace to be led from it. But then a new sensation filtered through the burgundy veil of rest; a hand placing itself on her left wrist and moving slowly, languidly up her arm. She realized she must've been lying on her side, because when the hand reached her shoulder it gave a soft push and made her turn over on her back.

"Buffy," a voice said.

It couldn't be time to wake up already.

"Spike?" she murmured, her tongue uncooperative and sluggish, her eyes unwilling to part.

She drew the conclusion he was lying next to her, which was odd. Then she could feel how close his face was. It was more intuition telling her his nose was practically touching her cheek than it was her actually feeling it, but then she perceived the coolness of his skin.

She was about to turn her head and force her eyes to open so that she could look at him, but didn't get the chance.

Before she could part her lips, his mouth had found hers and he kissed her in a way that made it impossible for her not to respond. For all of her to respond. For every inch of her to be wide awake and wide open within a moment, her arms, rogue and foreign, wrapping themselves around his neck, as if wanting to stop him from moving away.

But then, there was something else. Something new. A tingle.

She ended the kiss, pulling her head back to look at him.

His eyes were twinkling with amusement.

She felt rage and humiliation swirl through her chest and she pushed him off the bed hard enough for him to go flying into the niche hosting the window. He was chuckling. It wasn't her Spike.

The crash must have been loud enough to hear through the wall, because she heard the door of the other room open within a mere few seconds, the door of the room she inhabited soon swinging open as well, Spike stopping in its doorway. He looked at her – questioningly, wanting to know if she was alright – and then he saw the still slouching vampire, with his back smashed into the heavy curtains and the smirk unwilling to be killed off – if there was even an attempt, which the Slayer doubted; and the vampire in the doorway assessed the situation in the bat of an eyelash, and even quicker than that he had crossed the room, grabbed the other vampire by the throat and hoisted him onto his feet with a growl.

"Hey," the vampire practically giggled, grabbing hold of the other's hand and smiling widely. "She kissed me back."

Buffy watched the frown form on Spike's brow. She couldn't really see his face, but the soft crease of his outlined forehead told her all she needed to know, except what was going on behind it. What must he be thinking? The anger and disgust she had experienced dripped away in a moment, like drops of water on a window pane, gliding out of sight haltingly, joining with each other and leaving her weary and with a view that was no clearer than it had been before.

"Spike," she said.

"Which one?" the vampire still being held in a tight grip asked with another smirk. "Better make up your mind, pet."

He received an awesome punch on the chin from his captor, sending him stumbling headfirst into the wall next to the niche. Spike made a move as if there were more pounding in need of being done, but the vampiress appeared in the doorway with such a wondering expression on her face that he paused.

"Just doing you a favor, mate," the vampire, leaned against the fall-breaker, said.

"Get him out of here," Spike murmured.

The vampiress frowned at the other vampire – who didn't take his eyes out of Spike's – before she walked up to him, grabbed his arm and pulled him with her toward the door. She met Buffy's gaze for a brief moment, but looked away and the door clicked shut behind them.

"So," Spike said, turning to her.

She couldn't quite discern the look in his eyes.

"So," she said, hoping he'd leave it there.

"So, you kissed him?" he took it further.

She sunk back against the headboard.

"I was practically asleep."

"Practically as in fully unconscious? Because I seem to remember you telling me that would be the only chance I would ever have with you."

"That was... I didn't... It wasn't..."

She trailed off, meeting his gaze and noticing the change of expression in it. He was enjoying this. He was actually enjoying it. And she was instantly annoyed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nice," she grumbled.

"Was it?" he asked, a smile splitting his face and she looked away from him, rolling onto her side with a huff, placing herself with her back to him. "Oh, come on, Slayer," he said, "I'm bloody pissed off..."

"I was asleep!"

"With him!" he exclaimed, drawing an unnecessary breath. "But, not being without a sense of irony, I'm sure it hurt you more than it did me."

"I didn't do it to hurt you," she snapped. "I didn't know it was him."

She bit the inside of her cheek until she could taste copper, pathetically unable to simply turn over and rest her eyes in his. It wasn't like she was proclaiming whatever she could have been proclaiming. She was barely saying anything with her actions. It was more like a whisper. Hopefully he would barely hear it. She completely ignored the fact that he had paranormal hearing and could pick up the scratch of a cricket from a mile away.

He was too quiet. He never knew when to shut up – him shutting up now would surely be prelude to the heavens opening up and the hand of God coming down with bolts of lightning and rainstorms, ending the world as she knew it. Soon, however, she decided that she was being ridiculous, and turned over, sitting up before raising her gaze to his. She hadn't expected the inquisitiveness, or the scrutiny residing behind it.

"Listen to that," he said, referring to the yelling match that the vampire couple was having on the other side of the wall.

"Trying not to," she replied, her voice faint and sounding nothing like her own.

"You've come to care for her, haven't you?" he asked, and somehow the gentleness that came into his eyes went straight into her.

"You didn't think I would?" she wondered.

"Wasn't convinced of it," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Well," he said hesitantly, then smiled slightly. "Empathy isn't your strong suit."

"And what's my strong suit?"

"Being strong," he replied, "when everyone else falls down."

"You don't fall down."

"I didn't say me, I said everyone else."

She was smiling before she knew it, looking away from him and at her hands, of all things, as if she was bashful for some reason. Which she wasn't.

"Sorry," he said, her eyebrows rising slightly. "You were supposed to sleep," he added.

She smiled again.

"Yeah, 'cause that's gonna happen," she said.

He hesitated again, but smiled as well, beginning to move toward the door.

"So you make it happen," he instructed. "Another one of your strong suits: you'd stop the bloody world from turning if you put your mind to it."

"Okay. ...Stay," she stopped him, his hand on the doorknob. "I think I'll sleep better knowing exactly where you are."

He suddenly smirked, eyes back in hers.

"Here's hoping 'exactly' means in between those sheets, all warm and snug."

"Shut up," she said, shaking her head and lying back down.

x

He slipped his duster off, watching the lump that was her body under the blanket covering her and thinking how that was all that separated them; and she had asked him to stay. Told him to stay was perhaps more accurate, but it was one command he couldn't mind adhering to. He placed himself on the other bed, looking at the blonde looks flowing over the pillow which served to support her head.

It was like one of her more precise kicks to the stomach to even consider that, had he had the balls to do what the other vampire had done, her momentary lapse of concentration could have been his to claim. But then, it wouldn't have been any different, he was certain of that. He would have ended up bleeding tangled with the curtains, just as the other one had.

She didn't know what she wanted.

But it was as if she had forgotten where they had stood before; as if this new, familiar ground somehow allowed her to see him: not the demon, not the past or a more-than-likely threat, but a man. She looked at him now in a way that reminded him of what it was like being a man.

The door of the next room slammed harshly. The vampiress had left it.

"We said 'let them work it out themselves', right?" the Slayer murmured.

He glanced at her, smiling slightly.

"Believe mum was the word," he agreed.

"Right," she said, rolling over on her back. "Sounded heavy."

"Thought you weren't listening."

"Said I was trying not to. These walls have got to be paper thin."

Her eyes met his and there was a lightness to everything, as always, when she looked at him wearing a smile. Suddenly he couldn't bear it, and looked away. It was almost over with now; the mission would be wrapped up. Or the world would end. Either way, she was out of his reach. Ten inches away from him she was bloody out of his reach.

"Your eyes are open," he remarked.

"All the better to see you with, my dear," she quipped, and as he glanced at her it was as if he could actually see her mind check itself, wondering why it had chosen that phrase when any other would have been so much more appropriate.

She smiled, and there was something rueful in it that he wasn't sure she even recognized herself, before she lay back down.

"I always knew you wanted to kiss me," he finally said, and he could see a fleeting smile on her mouth, though she didn't look at him.

"Intervention," she then suddenly declared, rising to her feet.

"Intervention?" he asked, having been rather lost in thought. He watched her pull her boots on and clicked the word into its rightful place. "Oh. Intervention," he said, beginning to rise as well.