Spoilers: Season 5. This story takes place directly after "Crush"
Rating: PG
Content: Spike/Buffy
Dedication: This one goes out to Pandora for all the marvellous support and encouragement. Ooo. And the visual inducements. *PURR* You are AWESOME!
Disclaimer: They are Joss's! All Joss's! I'm just *cough* "borrowing" them for a bit.
Note: Please ignore grammar and spelling errors. I'm afraid I've been burning the midnight oil in order to get this one done, which definitely cuts down on my ability to construct a coherent sentence. :-)
Feedback: Your words are literally keeping me writing on this one. I need all the help I can get! Thanks! Special thanks to Ryan and the other kind souls who keep me buoyed with their wonderful words!



Chapter Ten

She blinked in confusion as she gawked at the vampire standing defiantly before her. Her breathing slowing as she contemplated him, Buffy took a step back and leaned against the wall.

"Spike?" she repeated softly, her voice thankfully free of any trembling. There was something in his blue eyes that made her want to fall to her knees. She had never known anyone whose eyes spoke as much as his did.

"Slayer?" Spike mocked in a high-pitched voice as he shoved his hands behind his back.

And suddenly, it all hit her.

Buffy growled dangerously as she glared at the vampire. Spike stood so confidentally before her, his lips pursed haughtily as he had the gall to look down on her. He had no right to look so amused.

He had no right to be here at all.

Buffy flung herself at the vampire, her fists readied as their bodies collided. He caught her by the arms, his hands clenching onto her muscled skin like powerful vises as he pinned her against the wall.

"I told you to stay away from my family," the Slayer said quietly, making no move to struggle out of his grasp. "Spike, I told you to leave Sunnydale."

He had no right to stand there with those blue eyes of his so devoid of emotion while hers were undoubtedly red. He had no right to be holding her against the wall, smelling so intriguingly of spices and cigarettes and earth.

He had no right.

"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me." Buffy spit out as she felt the disgust churn her stomach, though whether it was directed towards him or herself, she could no longer say.

Great one, Buffster, she winced as she watched his eyes fall to the duster she wore. Bring the attention to the coat. Wonderful. You'll never hear the end of it.

She could feel her face turning red as the vampire's eyes traced slowly back up her body. But to her amazement, Spike said not a word as he readjusted his grip on her arms. He stood there silently, his mouth an even line as he stared coldly at her.

Suddenly, she was grateful for the duster which hid the mass of goosebumps marring the white expanse of her arms. It was almost unnerving. Like Spike could ever be unnerving, she huffed to herself as she returned the glare defiantly. So what. She was wearing his damn coat. Anyone with a little bit of fashion sense would have done it. It didn't mean a damn thing.

"What's this, Spike?" Buffy rolled her eyes impatiently. "Playing at being the Big Bad again? Oooo. Tell me. Should I act scared now?"

He cocked his head as he studied her neck quietly, an intense look of concentration on his face. A faint smile creased his lips as he transformed to his game face.

Cat eyes, Buffy thought as their gazes locked for a moment. He reminded her of a sleek, dangerous cat intent on playing with the mouse whose future he held in his menacing claws. Okay, Buffy admitted grudgingly, she may be currently caught in the cat's claws, but she was no mouse.

Buffy slammed her head forward suddenly, intent on headbutting the creature. He grunted as he whipped his forehead down to meet her own, controlling the force of the hit. His hands only seemed to tighten around her biceps. And after all that, the moron still didn't say a word.

Fine, she grumbled as she exposed her neck to his view. If he wants to play stupid games, then she could certainly humour him.

"Oh, don't eat me, Mr Vampire," she mocked in what she hoped was a good imitation of Harmony's annoying voice. She had to smother a grin as she felt his body tense up at her taunting. "Oooooo. Don't bite me, Big Bad. Ooo. Wait a minute. You can't bite. Ooops. My bad. Grrrrrr!"

Buffy had to fight the urge to frown as the vampire remained silent. Okay, she had just insulted him twice in a row and had *no* response. This was so unlike Spike.

"Spike?" she ventured cautiously as she raised her head. "Things okay in Vampville? Didn't get your fangs on some bad blood, did you?" Buffy couldn't help but wince as she heard the tone of concern in her voice.

Only natural, she told herself firmly. He had acted somewhat cool to her that night when she found out her mother was going in for the CAT scan. It was only natural for her to want to return the favour sometime. Score one for Psychology 101.

He moved before she even realised it, his fangs touching the tender skin at the base of her neck. She held perfectly still as she tried to calm her nerves. It wasn't as if he could hurt her anyway, she thought as she tried to assuage that piggling little fear which tugged at her stomach. She fought the impulse to close her eyes as she felt his lips graze the skin gently.

Yup, she thought as he raised his head to look at her, someone was due for a major ass-kicking.

"I can't hurt you, Buffy," he spoke softly, his eyes widened with dismay. Spike looked so incredibly serious, so surprised, that the girl couldn't think of anything to say in response.

"Like duh?" she managed to get out as she attempted a smirk.

Spike shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Finally, he sighed softly as he released the grip on her arms.

Something just isn't right, she thought as she looked at him carefully. He was too pale, the lines of his face: too drawn. There was something different here but she couldn't put her finger on it. This wasn't Spike. Well, not her Spike.

Oh, fuck.

She nearly groaned to herself as she glared at him. She didn't mean *her* Spike as in hers, Buffy thought quickly as she wrinkled her nose. She meant the Spike she was familiar with.

That's it.

Able to breathe a bit more easily now, Buffy glared at him with the full strength of her frustration.

He chuckled suddenly, almost brutally.

"You'll never know, will you, Summers? You are many things, but being perceptive just isn't one of them..."

"Heeeeeeey!"

"Oh, just shush up for once, Slayer. Or can't you go that long without hearing the sound of your own voice?"

The girl nearly snarled, but remained silent.

"You know," Spike snorted as he stepped away from the girl. "I can't decide if you are really that hopelessly blind or if you just pretend to be. No. Now that I think about it, I'm sure it's the latter. You can't be the fighter you are if you don't have some ability to perceive others."

Buffy just rolled her eyes. "And what do you know of perception? You've been madly in love with some insane ho for over a hundred years!"

"What does one thing have to do with the other?" he shrugged carelessly. "I know what you are doing, Summers. And don't pretend that you don't know, either."

The Slayer huffed in disgust.

"Oh, please. Enlighten me with your wisdom."

His mouth quirked into a crooked smile as he looked at her with affection in his eyes. "It's all about control. About fear."

"Ooookay. Like that made sense."

"Why are you talking so much, Buffy? You afraid of what I'm going to say?"

She lifted her chin up determinedly as she met his gaze. "Afraid? Of you? Puh-leeese."

With an absent look in his eyes, he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek.

"Don't you dare," she growled dangerously.

He shook himself out of the momentary reverie long enough to drop his hand to his side.

"The control part, I get. I've watched you in action long enough to notice your 'type': poofy and weepy and weak. You are so scared of losing control that you will only see those blokes that you know you can hold the upper hand on. Peaches was so bloody in love with you that he couldn't see straight (leaving was the best thing he ever did for you ... and himself, whether you want to believe it or not), and the overgrown Boy Scout? He was a bloody Barbie doll. He did what you said, dressed how you liked, and left you alone (all nancy-boy like) when you wanted to play with your other toys. Those weren't relationships, Slayer. Not love, no matter what you told them."

"Spare me. Relationship advice. This is seriously priceless coming from you," Buffy interrupted, her voice full of tight outrage as she folded her arms across her chest.

"I can understand why you want the control, quite honestly. Regardless of what your mates may think, a Slayer's got precious little of it. But why the fear? Why are you so scared?" the vampire mused softly.

"Now who's the one in love with their voice?" Buffy replied grouchily, her mind blank as she tried to come up with a single good comeback.

"What could the girl who has single-handedly averted the Apocolypse how many times now possibly fear?" he continued determinedly.

"So when did you get your doctorate in psychology?" the Slayer bit off in disgust.

"That's it," Spike snapped his fingers in front of her face, his eyes seeming to brighten as she inadvertantly jumped. "You are afraid of you, aren't you, pet? You are afraid that the moment you let yourself go, that the moment good things start to happen, something will go wrong. You are afraid of losing, of falling, of being denied. Hell, you are even afraid of winning, aren't you, luv? But you know what? Love's a struggle. It's the scariest damn risk you can ever take. It's always a risk when there are hearts involved. It's not something you can control and that's why you've managed to muck every single one of your 'relationships', and mind you, I use the term loosely, up. So go on. Date your Boy Scouts and Poofs. Ruin every sodding chance you have at happiness because you are too bloody scared to put your precious heart in danger. Go on. I don't think I care anymore."

It was almost as if the breath in her body had been seized by some giant demon and sucked out of her.

But she'd be damned before she let him realise he hurt her.

"Fine by me. It's a lot easier for me to sleep at night when the neighbourhood evil isn't lusting after me."

Spike just looked amused.

"Fine," Buffy tried again, her voice almost desperate as she tried to provoke him. "Let's talk about relationships. Let's talk about your Drusilla."

"Fire's too hot, Slayer?" the vampire smirked openly as he shook his head.

"What? Hyprocrite. Can dish it out, but can't take it?"

Spike cocked his head to the side as he gave a small bow. "I await your worst, milady."

She closed her eyes for a second as she tried to grab hold of a coherent thought.

"Let's talk about your obsessive love for a woman who could never love you back..."

"Which one?" Spike's mouth quirked as he considered her with more than a bit of humour shining in his eyes.

"Ugh. You are impossible!"

"Could you be speaking of Cecily? She was the moonlight itself, you know..."

"I so don't want to hear this."

"You asked, so shut up. But that was before I was turned so I am not sure if she counts. You're right, though. She could never love me." He seemed to be so far away suddenly, as if he were caught up in another time.

"She really wasn't *that* beautiful, but there was something about her that enraptured me. Pale, yet dark. The perfect lady. And yet, there was something on the edge of her meticulously manicured facade which seemed to be aching to get out. Passion, I think. It's strange to think she's been dead for a hundred years. In a way, it's like I can almost feel her with me now..."

"You killed her, didn't you?" Buffy whispered softly, her heart suddenly at her feet.

"Oh, come on. Haven't you heard a word I've said? I told you I loved her."

"So?"

The vampire rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

"Guess that doesn't mean much to you, Slayer. But it sure as hell means a lot to me. No. She died in childbirth. And by the bye, since I'm technically dead, that wasn't my fault either."

The girl leaned against the wall as she tried to hide the sigh of relief which erupted from her body.

"And Drusilla? Whatever would draw you to Looney Tunes?" she said quickly.

"Starlight."

"Yeah?" Buffy prodded, interested despite her best attempts to remain indifferent.

He cocked a most infuriating grin as he stared at the fluroscent lamp on her mother's desk. "Beautiful in her purely evil way. She's an innocent..."

"Innocent? Hello. And what dictionary are you using?"

"She was born in a time so unlike anything you've ever known, Summers. Had anyone ever known of her talents, even her own family, she would have been burned or drowned for being a witch. So she hid it until she doubted her own sanity. But still, she tried to keep her family together. She was the strength that bound them all... in that, she reminds me of you. Her family was her reason for being. And in the end, it cost her everything.

"Forgive me if I don't cry..."

His face darkened as he whirled around to face the girl.

"You bloody well should cry. What they did to her was outrageous. Monstrous. She was a little girl cursed with a damning gift and a sense of shame a mile long. She didn't fit in then, and she doesn't fit in now. She will always be just a beautiful lunatic who can't ever see past her own desires. What she truly is will always be trapped, Buffy, until that day she's destroyed. Can't you even feel a bit of compassion for that?"

"I'm sorry she had a screwed up mortal life, but really, Spike. Who hasn't?" Buffy shrugged her shoulders slightly as she looked at him.

"But it didn't break you, Slayer. It didn't make you into a bit of fragile, chipped glass that's ready to shatter into a million pieces with the slightest gust of wind. She needs someone to protect her. To love her. To appreciate the magnificent creature she is..."

"Ooo. And she's evil. Must be a nice bonus..."

Spike smiled crookedly. "Pure evil, pet. As crazy as she could drive me at times, I love her."

"Loved?"

"No, pet. Love. I will always love my Drusilla. But as much as I love her, she could never be mine. And no, she could never love me."

Buffy laughed suddenly, her tones echoing throughout the room. "So what am I? The consolation prize, buddy? You think that because Dru doesn't want you, I will?"

Spike shook his head slowly, his mouth curved in an answering smile. "That really offends you, doesn't it?"

"Hello? And you think it shouldn't?" Buffy huffed as she looked around. "Wait. Actually, it would offend me if I actually cared, but since I don't... why don't you just go screw yourself. Or Harmony, though I suspect it may be basically the same thing." She lifted her chin high into the air as she pushed herself away from the wall and started stalking away.

"You didn't ask me about my Sunshine, Slayer," he said quietly, his tones soft enough to make her pause midstep.

"I'd give you a quarter to call someone who cares, but I doubt there's anyone out there who would give a damn."

"You aren't the tiniest bit curious, eh?" his voice held a deep chuckle.

"Not a bit," Buffy blustered as she turned to face him.

A smile seemed to play around his lips, but he only nodded in response.

"Sunshine seems to be the only word to describe her. Bright and full of life. She's everything Drusilla isn't and I love her for it. She'll never love me, though. I find myself hoping that it will be different, but common sense tells me its a lost cause. Shouldn't even bother. Captain Cardboard had the right idea of it all along and you know what, Slayer? That kills. That really kills.

"It seems to be suicide to love her, pet. The whole sunshine/vampire thing usually doesn't mix, you know. But I can't help it. 'Cause somewhere along the line, I fell for her. Hard. And there's no going back, whether we want to or not."

Buffy shook her head violently as she felt the blood rush up to highlight her cheeks. God, he can't see me blush, she thought in a panic as she spit out the first words at the top of her head.

"You're a vampire, though. You can't love..."

"Who in bloody hell told you that brilliant piece of nonsense?" Spike groaned, the exasperation clouding his smooth baritone.

"It's a fact."

"Says who?"

"Every damn book I've read about vampires..." Buffy flung her hair back as she busied herself with her nails.

"I must have read another version of Dracula and Interview With A Vampire."

A smile slipped onto her face as she cocked her head at the vampire curiously.

"You've read Anne Rice?"

Yes. Score one for the Buffster. That is embarrassment on the vamp's face.

"Oh, shut up. Who hasn't?"

Buffy took a step closer to the vampire, smirking as she looked up in his face.

"How cute! Tell me, Spike... you wear a cape, too? Turn into bats, wolves, all those nasty little critters?"

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

"Git."

"Moron."

She grinned in triumph as she noticed the look of utter impatience on the vampire's face. Spike looked almost ready to tear his hair out.

Score two for the Buffster.

Yeah, she thought as she examined him silently. This is the way it should be. This was the way she liked it. Maybe things weren't so beyond repair after all, she thought with a half-smile on her face as she regarded the vampire. That's why she was shocked beyond all hell when Spike lowered his head and brushed a soft, gentle kiss against her lips.

She stood there, stunned, her hand slapped over her mouth as she stared at the vampire in surprise. Spike only rewarded her with a sheepish smile.

"You stupid bastard!" Buffy managed to stammer out. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Did what?" he widened his eyes in feigned innocence as he pushed his hands behind his back.

She lunged at him, grunting with exertion as her fist made contact with his nose.

"Bloody hell, Slayer! What's your problem?" he groaned as the blood fell freely from his nose.

Buffy shuddered in revulsion as the vampire kept his hands behind his back, making no attempt to wipe his face clear of the liquid. Disgusting bastard was probably content to let the blood fall into his mouth, she thought as she watched it bead up on his full lips.

"Hello? Well, I would say it was the vampire/slayer thing, but honestly, you're just annoying."

"And you wonder why Soldier Boy ran away," Spike grumbled as he collapsed back into Joyce's chair. His eyes roamed arrogantly over the curves of her body,his mouth pulling into a smirk. "Or it could just be the clothes. It usually helps, pet, to turn the lights on before you dress..."

Buffy snorted as she rolled her head back. "Please. Fashion advice from the Billy Idol wannabe."

"This from the woman who pinched my coat," Spike responded as he thrust out a hand. "Speaking of which..."

The Slayer pulled the duster tightly around her. "Mine now."

"Oh, come ON! That's my bloody coat!" the vampire now looked genuinely pissed.

"Finders keepers!" Buffy gloated as she smoothed down the lapels.

"That's so not funny."

"Well, I thought it was kind of amusing."

"Well, ha," Spike rolled his eyes as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'dumb bint'.

"Oh, go drop dead!"

"Already did. Didn't like it much so I came back."

"Oh, you're funny. Forgive me when I don't smile: don't wanna ruin my makeup."

"Oh, bloody hell. Don't smile then!"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Joyce stood in the doorway as the vampire and the slayer bantered back and forth.

"They act like an old married couple," she said, her voice trembling with amusement, to her youngest daughter loudly as they both watched on.

"Kind of reminds me of the time in third grade when Joie Bancroft stole Peter Cunningham's bottle of water and they started fighting..." Dawn offered as she watched the two carefully.

"You know, Joie and Peter are dating now."

Joyce nodded slowly as she looked at her daughter's heartbroken face.

"Things are going to be okay, Dawnie."

Dawn shrugged as she pulled at the hem of her shirt.

"Maybe for them, Mom. But not for me."