AUTHOR: Collie.
EMAIL: fiendishthingee@aol.com
RATING: R'ish.
SUMMARY: Buffy helps Spike find closure.
SPOILERS: Buffy S5 up to 'Crush'. I'm twisting it a bit, though, to say that Dru got to Spike *before* he told Buffy he loved her, and convinced him he wanted to be his old self again.
DISTRIBUTION: YGTS? and Through My Eyes. Anyone else, just ask.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I just make them do stupid pet tricks for the amusement of others. Though, if they were mine, this is exactly what I'd do with 'em.
FEEDBACK: It's what makes the world go 'round.
NOTES: Answer to gloveslap #8 at YGTS?
DEDICATION: To Kat. You're evil. Evil. Do you know how many times it took me to write this? And there's still all those mistakes. Argh. It's driving me nuts! ;) But, that's what you wanted. Evil wench!
* * *
You tried to kill her, but you couldn't.
Look at you. You're a wreck!
She's stronger than any Slayer you've ever faced.
Force won't get it done. You gotta work from the inside.
To kill this girl.. you have to love her."
- Angelus. 'Innocence'.
* * *
"Can I ask you a question, Slayer?"
Buffy shrugged, walking along the small path that led through the cemetery, the blond vampire strolling casually at her side.
"What do you honestly think of me?"
Buffy raised an eyebrow at the question. She hadn't expected to be confronted with a question like that tonight, not so soon after everything that had just happened with Dawn. Buffy's mind wasn't on patrol, it was home with a scared 14-year-old girl and their worried, confused, and just as scared mother.
"What? What are you talking about, Spike?"
Spike pursed his lips, turning his blue gaze on Buffy's profile.
"I didn't think I stuttered, Slayer. What do you think about me? Honestly."
Buffy let out a short chuckle.
"What do I think, Spike? I *think* you're an evil vampire -- not to mention annoying -- which just makes it all the more evil. You're also a pain in my ass, and a selfish, two-faced bastard. Is that what you were looking to hear? Because that's all I have to say to you tonight. I am so *not* in the mood to share my feelings."
She stopped walking and turned, smiling sweetly at the frowning vampire.
"Yeah. That's what I thought."
Spike snorted, looking away. He raised his hands, patting his coat pockets before digging into one and withdrawing that ever-present pack of cigarettes. He just stood there, shaking his head as he pulled one out, placing it between his lips. He flicked the lighter and brought it within a hair of the cylindrical paper before huffing a huge sigh, ripping the cigarette from his mouth with a frustrated little gesture.
"You know, Slayer -- I don't bloody get you. You talked the big talk to Captain Cardboard about demons and such all havin' shades of grey. Not all demons are evil. Not all demons are about death and destruction -- why do you go about makin' assumptions about me?"
Buffy frowned, confusion coloring her face. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What is this all about, Spike? Since when have you ever cared about what I thought of you? Since when have you ever given a shit about any of us?"
Spike lit the cigarette, taking a slow measured pull.
"No need to get the defenses rufflin', pet. I only wanted a straight answer out of you, and I guess I got it. Even if it was a lot of rubbish."
He scowled and turned, stalking off in the direction they'd been heading, black leather swirling out angrily in his wake. Buffy watched after him, her mouth slagging slightly. She straightened, shaking herself back to reality, then started after him, calling out.
"What the hell is going on here?"
She reached him quickly, grabbing him by the elbow and yanking him around. He cursed as his cigarette was flung from his fingers, sizzling out somewhere in the shadows. Before he had a chance to speak, Buffy was in his face.
"What is going on with you, Spike? You are acting majorly weird, and not just in your usual and oh-so charming way."
He said nothing, but turned his gaze on her fully. He simply stared at her until she started to squirm.
"Spike, knock it off. Spill it!"
"You have no reason to lie to me, Slayer. You should know that by now. If you even thought you were in trouble, you'd have that stake through my heart faster than Angelus could ram his cock up my ass. So why don't we try this again, and before you answer, think long and hard, okay, pet? Tear away the demon. Tear away my past. What do you honestly think about me?"
Buffy's mouth went slack for the second time that evening. She blinked, taken aback by his use of language. She tore her eyes from his cold gaze, running her tongue along her lower lip to moisten it.
"I.. Spike.. I mean.. I don't know. You know, outside of the whole maiming-killing-vicious-demon thing, I don't really know a whole lot about you."
Spike nodded curtly.
"My point exactly. You see, Slayer, I've been thinking; what do you think things would have been like between us, had I maybe been the one cursed with that bloody soul? Would you have taken the time to get to know me like you did with my wanker of a sire? Or would you have just dusted me; another notch on the Slayer's bedpost in her holy Chosen-One quest? Is it because I'm me? William the Bloody, second-best in the Scourge of Europe Pageant, or is it because I don't flit about like that poofter did? Hangin' on your every word, fluffing up the big-bad world so it didn't hurt you *too* badly when you fell?"
He sighed out an unneeded breath, stepping a bit closer.
"You see, it is my considered opinion that you're bloody afraid to get to know me, because somethin' deep inside you actually likes me, Slayer, and you hate it. It bloody eats at you, and you'd rather push me away -- squash me and keep me under your heel -- than actually maybe allow yourself the pleasure of making me into an ally, because in that twisted brain of yours, that would be like crawling on your hands and knees to Angelus and begging him to get you off, just because he wore the face of your old lover. Submission to a creature you loathe."
He just shook his head.
"You know there's a decent chap inside of this shell, but you can't allow yourself to find him because it would sully your image. Am I right, Slayer?"
Buffy blinked in surprise at his angry tirade. She'd never heard him speak so passionately about anything before. Nevermind that it was in anger and that it was directed towards her -- she was just so shocked to learn that he actually cared about her opinion. Cared about anything, for that matter. She was, for all intents and purposes, speechless.
He ended in a seethe, shoving another cigarette into his mouth, his motions jerky.
"If you're lookin' for an award for best dead fish impression, Slayer, I think you've won. Close your mouth. You're attracting flies."
Buffy snapped her mouth shut, scowling.
"Okay, Spike -- what's the deal, here? Why the sudden soul-searching questions?"
He just shook his head, throwing away his words in an off-hand gesture. It didn't stop her, though.
"I can't answer you, because I honestly don't know. It's all.. I mean.. it's all situational. I almost staked Angel dozens of times before we even got past the lurking-cryptic-guy routine, so who's to say I wouldn't have, had he *really* given me a reason? If your roles were reversed, maybe things would have turned out the same.. maybe not. It all depends."
Spike sighed, facing her straight. No sneer. No scowl. His face was open and honest.
"Just.. tell me, Buffy. Put aside all of your bloody stereotypes and pre-conceptions and just tell me."
The Slayer tilted her head, frowning a bit. Against her better judgment, she was actually sort of worried. It's not as if she had actual feelings for Spike -- she didn't. He was, for all intents and purposes, still a soulless demon. Just because he was.. handicapped at the moment, didn't make him any less dangerous. But.. the fact that he'd had time to concentrate on things other than destroying, beating, and eviscerating lately, seemed to have opened up a new side to Spike's personality.
If he really wanted to know, Buffy supposed there was no harm in telling him the truth.
"Well.. all right, Spike."
She sighed deeply, pacing slowly.
"You're evil. There's no two ways about it. Even though you're chipped, you're still evil. Having a tiny little behavior modification do-hickey does *not* a good demon make. I think -- and correct me if I'm wrong here -- but I think that, if you ever got that chip out, you would be back to your old ways of painting the town blood red as soon as you could shout woo-ha! Or.. bloody woo-ha. Whatever the British is for 'yay!'."
Spike raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms at that, but remained silent. She continued.
"Now, I will admit that you aren't as annoying as you used to be -- mainly because I don't have to worry about you as much anymore. You know, destroying the world or kicking small puppies or something. That's a plus. Another plus is that you're good at gathering information. You've.. helped us many times -- although, no.. not out of the goodness of your own heart.. if there even *is* any of that.."
Spike frowned slightly. If Buffy noticed, she made no allusion.
"You're a great fighter, and I'll admit.. you've probably saved my ass a couple of times. This, however, has *always* puzzled me.. as, last time I checked, we were still #1's on our respective Mortal Enemies Top 10 List. You go from almost congenial to downright hostile towards me in a matter of seconds. You.. you spin my head. There's just.. so many parts of you that don't match up. So.. well.. to be honest, Spike -- I can't get a good enough feel of you to even make up my *own* mind about you, let alone formulate it all and spit it out to you."
She sighed in exasperation, throwing up her hands in defeat. She watched his face, waiting for some snide remark. But it never came. He just stared back at her, his face shadowed.
"You didn't answer the question, Slayer."
Buffy dropped her eyes, nibbling on her lower lip. She was silent for a few moments, then nodded her head almost imperceptibly.
"You're right. If.. all the evil and the demony stuff was gone.. yes, I'd *maybe* like you. Definitely, though, I'd want you on my side. I think.. I think that somewhere, deep inside, beneath all of the eyeball-plucking fun to be had, there's a very honorable man, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I would have liked to have known him."
Spike nodded slowly, his eyes focused on the ground between them as if he were deep in thought. Buffy watched him curiously for a few moments. When it seemed as if he wasn't going to reply, she turned quietly and continued her way through the cemetery. After a beat, she heard the soft crunch of grass and knew he was following behind. After a while, he spoke, and even though his voice was soft, the suddenness of it in the stillness of the night startled her.
"I was a good man, Buffy. I still am. I was kind and considerate.. and too bloody sensitive for my own good."
She heard the slight disdain in his voice and smiled a bit to herself. She just nodded, continuing on her trek. He continued, his voice a bit closer this time.
"The night I was turned.. there was a woman. Her name was Cecily. I loved her as much as a man in my position could love a woman like her. From afar. Like a puppy. Unfortunately for me, she didn't quite return my affections. I gave her my heart, Buffy -- I wore it on my sleeve for her. For one woman.."
Buffy slowed to a stop, her mouth turning down in a slight frown. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as she felt his feather-light touch on her hair.
She was suddenly very aware of his body, so close behind hers..
"I've only done that once since. It took one-hundred and twenty years for me to work up the courage to put myself out like that again. To truly show myself to someone again. To hand them all the cards and let them make the next move."
She inhaled sharply as she felt his breath on her ear.
"I assume you realize now.. that I'm talking about you, Slayer."
Buffy turned slowly, coming face to face with Spike. His expression was somber, his ice-blue gaze boring into hers. She nibbled gently on her lower lip, completely at a loss at what to say; but her words were unnecessary.
"She said I was beneath her. And then, I heard those words again -- from you, Buffy. They hurt. They ripped through me like no stake ever could. So what do I do now? Do I retreat back into my shell for another century? No. I don't want that. All I want.. is one simple favor from you. I.. I think you owe me that much."
Buffy lifted her eyes to his face again, slowly tilting her head.
"What, Spike?"
He leaned in closer, and Buffy's pulse quickened. His lips were a breath away from hers, and when he whispered, his breath was icy on her skin.
"I need you.. to give me closure."
And quicker than she could register, his hand was twined in her hair and his teeth were in her neck, ripping apart her skin as the scream tore from her throat.
And to Spike, that sound was more effective than a century's worth of therapy.