Chapter 6 "Voice of The Bloody."

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, do you think I can sample some of that creativity?

Synopsis: Our fave slayer has pissed Spike off to the point of no return, and he leaves Sunnydale and goes to Los Angeles. There, he talks with Peaches (dangit, I mean Angel), while trying to figure out his feelings. Buffy's on the road, and in Los Angeles now, intent on finding the Victorian Vampire.

Other notes: \\ means song lyrics and ~ ~ ~ means flashbacky stuff. Oh, and beware of long internal monologues! This chapter is from Spike's point of view, and I'm not sure if this will be the last chapter. Maybe. Or one more. All depends if you guys like it. ^_^ I changed the ending of it, so I hope you like it.

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The parchment came into my view as Angel drifted off into daydreamy land. Probably thinkin' about that bloody Slayer. It's been two days since I left Sunnyhell, and already I'm turning into him. Sayin' that I've got emotions that are worth anything. I sorted through the many papers that cluttered up his desk, thinking to myself that Angel couldn't pack up anything even if his after-life depended on it. The picture stood out to me, rather like bloody jumped out. It was me. Angelus had drawn *me*. What blew me away was that Peaches had some talent. It looked a lot like me, and I felt a small sense of pride, bein' able to look at myself into the mirror, or at least metaphorically.

Now I'm turning philisophical. Never thought I'd live (funny how I do that, "live" yeah bloody right!) to see the day that I'd be philisophical. That died when I became Spike. When William bit the dust thanks to Drusilla. Remembering my human self, it brought back memories when I wrote that poem. The poem that I had taped to Buffy's door. I don' much know why I did such a thing. William's helpless romantic nature pushed through, causing me to write the poem, and then Spike's stubborn persistance made me go to her house (Niblet let me in, naturally).

After I had taped the poem to her door, I high-tailed it out of there, since the sun was comin' up, and little miss priss would most likely have my head for why I was even in her house. She thinks she's so damn special, that I was there to sift through her things. Even I'm not that low. Buffy came to *me*. Buffy sought *me* out, came every night to my crypt, putting on the show that she came to get information, when really she wanted to be near me. Buffy Anne Summers, the Slayer of Sunnydale. Big frickin' deal. I've killed two Slayers, and before I turned back into William, and if this chip was gone, I would've killed her. I had all reason to. What did I do, though? I killed Drusilla for her, and I lowered myself--me! A Master vampire!--to work with the scoobies. I didn't expect much gratitude for this, and it was a bad move on my part to chain her up with Harmony and Dru, but I did expect to have some respect from her.

But I didn't get it. I got thanks for staying with the Niblet and taking care of her while Buffy was dead, and that was great an' all, but why did I long for more? I knew she would never love me. I was an 'evil, and disgusting thing', remember? I always knew she thought of me that way, because I was always measured up against her precious Angel.

My Sire was her first, and right after he knocked her up, he turned evil. Now that's got to be a confidence booster. She believes that even though he went all evil after they slept together, that it was all honkey-dorey because he has a soul. Bloody hell! Does that solve everything? He has a soul, big deal! Buffy won't accept that Angel's out of her life. No, he's too big a part of her for that too happen. Even when he went all Angelus, the little Slayer believed that their love would push past his demon side. *snort* Yeah right. And I'm really a red-head.

\\ Within my heart are memories
Of a perfect love that you gave to me,
Oh, I remember\\

The picture I found, that brought up memories of how Angelus took me under his so called wing, and taught me everything there was to know about being a Vampire. I still was pretty much William, the bloody awful poet at this time, and so anythin' that Peaches was willin' to teach, I was willin' to learn. I had written a poem, funny how I still did this, considering my name was now, Spike, about him. It was better than the stuff I had written when I was human, and the paper is still in my duster pocket. Why do I still have it? Because I too believe that Angel loved me? I think I was just his little whore. Just like Buffy thinks I'm her whipping boy. Don't I pick the best people, dead or alive to fall in love with?

I'm turnin' into a soddin' poof. I turned to Angel, and thrusted the parchment in his face. "Would you care to explain what the bloody hell is this!?"

He grinned sheepishly. Cor, didn't think I'd ever get to see the brood-master look sheepish. "Well, you see, that's a funny story." Oh really? I'm in the mood for some humor. Although I don't see this being very humorous.

"Tell me, mate. Tell me what's so bleedin' funny," I said, sitting down at his desk. "I'm in the need for some humor."

"All right," Angel sighed. "I've been thinking about you for the last few months. You wouldn't leave my mind. Memories of when we were in Europe, and what's now Canada. I couldn't stop thinking about you, and how close we were. So, I decided to put a stop to this maddness, and draw. I wanted to draw something that wasn't connected to you, but when my pencil hit the paper, your face is what I drew." He looked into my eyes, the eyes that held such remorse. I knew having a soul was a bitch. "I remembered how much I....how much I loved you, Spike.."

Holy shit, I didn't just hear what I thought I just heard. But then again, didn't he say that to Buffy? How much he *loved* and couldn't stop *thinking* about her? I snorted. "Loved me? Bloody hell, Angel, didn't you remember what you did to me?"

"I remember," Angel murmered, standing up and walking over to me. What the bloody hell is he going to do? He pulled me up, holding me tight.

"Bugger off," I hissed, struggling to get out of his grip. Peaches has got quite the grip, and I found myself *really* struggling to get out, and having minimal success. "Let GO of me, Peaches. I'm not in the mood for your games."

"This isn't a game, Spike," Angel whispered, leaning in close to me. Suddenly, he kissed me, with a passion that I had forgotten for over a century. My mouth opened, and I just wanted to melt into my Sire's arms. His tongue entered my own, exploring the wet cavern, and I responded, my arms gripping his. We broke, and I was left, for lack of a better term, breathless. "I want what we had years ago, Spike..."

"Sire..." My own voice, usually so caustic and strong, was weak. The anger from what he had done to me years ago boiled inside, the anger filling me up. I growled, my right hand balling into a fist. Does everyone I date think they can waltz back into my bloody life and expect me to welcome it with open arms? Infuriated by what Angel had done, I snapped a punch, sending him flying back, hitting the pillar, and sliding down.

"Spike..." Angel began, but was interuppted by the door swinging wide open.

Standing there, drenched from the rain outside, was Buffy Summers.

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Author's notes: *cackles* I am so evil. Oh well. I decided I would make this a bit longer, and I do want to use the entire song, and fill it with sap, if need be! What's the verdict, everyone? Stay tuned, and review! If there's enough demand, I'll get it started quicker! Motivation is a powerful thing, my friends. ^_^