By Night - Chapter Nine
by Angel Eternal aka Angeline
email: spikes_angel01@yahoo.com.au
Website: In Dreams and Shadows
http://www.geocities.com/spikes_angel01/index.html
Rating: R
Pairings: Primarily S/B, but also has W/T and X/A
Summary: Secrets revealed have a disastrous aftermath.
Author's Notes: This is set S6, and is loosely based on spoilers concerning the season. I just want to point out
though that I haven't seen S6 and won't for a while, so if things aren't quite right, you'd know why.
I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter! To cut a long story short, my comp wasn't working. I really am sorry.
Distribution: "In Dreams and Shadows", "Shadow Borne", "Shelby's and Erin's Place" and at FF.net but it you want to
archive it go ahead, but just let me know first - I kinda like to know where it's going, and plus I find out about more
S/B shipper sites! ::grins::
Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, several companies and God knows who else.
One thing is certain - I don't own any of it! Nothing - zip - nada!
There was no kissage.
It was a simple statement that Xander forced to cycle in his mind as Willow held him back.
They weren't kissing, just...hugging. Yeah, hugging, almost sibling-like. Xander wanted to rip him off her, the
surge of brotherly over-protected ness tempered with the calm rationalisation that Buffy seemed to need this.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Buffy pulled out of Spike's embrace, and looked up at him.
"It doesn't matter Spike." she repeated.
The scarred eyebrow quirked up, "So you're going to drop this now?"
Xander noted with some resentment that Spike kept his arms tucked comfortably around Buffy's waist, as if it
belonged there.
Buffy bit her lip, "We need to know."
Spike snorted, "Come on Buffy!"
Frowning, Buffy took a step back, "Why are you so adamantly against this Spike?"
As if the lost of contact with Buffy undid his confidence, Spike's shoulders slumped. "Slayer..."
Buffy planted her hands firmly on her hips, her pose openly challenging.
Spike's eyes narrowed, "You say it doesn't matter, but it does." He waved his hands at Xander and Willow.
"Have you told them yet Slayer? Mentioned anything about your dirty little secret?"
Buffy took at another step back, fists clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He turned to the other two, "Ever asked her what happened that night? We know what happened to the two of you.
Ever asked her what happened between us?" He turned back to Buffy, "Can't ever admit right Slayer? But no, a
soul would make it all better."
Without another word, he stalked out the door, duster flaring out behind him.
Buffy felt rooted to the spot, she watched him stalk away, helpless to prevent him, in the wake of the dawning
numbness.
Xander was the first to break the silence, "Buffy?"
She turned around, eyes blank. After a moment it registered that Willow and Xander were there. She mumbled
something and disappeared up the stairs.
Willow released the breath that she was unaware of holding in.
Xander frowned, "Oh yeah, of course she'd run upstairs! What else would she do?" He spun around to face Willow,
"What was he ranting about?"
Willow shook her slowly, already becoming lost in thought.
Willow wasn't answering fast enough to satisfy him, Xander started to pace. The thought that he could have hurt
Buffy because of his stupidity, made his head throb. He didn't know if he could take any more.
"She hasn't told me anything but..."
Xander stopped pacing, and once more turned to face Willow. "But? There's a but?"
Willow tried to pick the right words, "Yes, there's a but - but I think I can guess."
She once more fell into silence, frustrating Xander even further, "Spit it out! All this waiting is killing me!"
She took a deep breath, and releasing it slowly, "I think she likes him."
Xander was silent, Willow looked up, and instead of the overprotective fury that she expected, she saw incomprehension.
"Xander." she took a step closer. "She likes him - cares about him."
Xander started to laugh. "Oh come on Wills. That's just too funny, let's be serious here."
Willow shook her head, "I am being serious! Xander think about it. After...after we brought her back, Spike was
the only one that she talked to. As in really talked to. She was Buffy around him, around us, she was on autopilot."
When he started to protest, she waved her hands at him, "Think about it Xander. When was the last time she called
Spike a pig?"
The question brought him up short. "Not since she came back."
The statement, with all its implications hung in the air between them, like a lead.
With a defeated sigh, he slumped into the sofa. "I guess it could be worse."
Willow sat next to him, and patted his knee comfortingly, "Yeah, Angel might come back, and hello broody twosome."
Xander shuddered at the thought.
* * *
He burst into his crypt, relishing the familiar enveloping caress of darkness. Being in the sunlight after all this time was
giving him a headache. He paced the length of his crypt, his thoughts in a whirl.
He had been a fool to be dreaming of warm embraces and kisses - of happily ever afters. Such things were never
meant for him. He had almost deceived himself, walling in the sunlight with Dawn. He should've known better.
He was nothing without a soul.
Everything he had done was for nothing. All the sacrifices that he had made were made in vain. She would never
look at him the same way as she looked at her precious love.
A growl rumbled from his throat, feeding the impotent fury that lashed at his being, Spike threw a chair at the wall.
Was he always going to be in Soulboy's shadow?
Spike was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't hear the soft footfall on hard stone.
He spun around when the low laugh reverberated around the crypt, mockingly bouncing off the stone walls.
His eyes focused on the shadowy figure in the corner.
"What the hell are you doing here? That's trespassing I'll have you know." He spoke flatly, wondering if he could just
throw the bugger out without much of a fight. He didn't care to indulge in a spot of violence.
"Not if I live here." the words were spoken in a low tone. He made no move to come forward and Spike belatedly
remembered that he was standing in the sunlight.
"What?" Spike frowned, bewildered and unsettled. As his eyes adjusted, he saw with uneasy clarity that his visitor
was the vampire that he and Buffy met the other night. He also remembered their eerie parting.
The vampire didn't elaborate on his cryptic comment, "You have it all now, then you realise that you have nothing."
Spike stiffened, and remained silent. The sense of familiarity overcame him again. Was it the low, velvety voice that
he seemed to have heard before? The features, distorted as they were by the demon, haunted him, kept him
wondering where he'd seen that face before? What dark alley that stank with death? What chaotic mob, thirsting for
shed blood?
"It's so close isn't it? Tell me Spike, is it worth it?"
Spike remained stonily silent, determined to hear the ponce out. He could almost see the phantom smile on the
stranger's lips.
"What of your great love Spike?" He moved forward, "You've had the oh so sweet kiss of first love in the eyes of
a beauteous girl whose name you can't even recall. You've drowned in the bitter slap of love in the glances of your
Cecilly." His yellow eyes flashed mockingly. "You've died in the cold embraces of your Drusilla." He stopped his
restless pacing to a sudden stop. "And now you believe you've awoken to the love of all loves, the one you cannot
love, but which your entire being craves. The Slayer."
The last name was spat out, the speaker's disgust blatantly obvious. Spike resisted the urge to leap to Buffy's defence,
now was not the time.
Trying to conceal his discomfort, Spike scowled at him. "Would you get to the bloody point?"
His laugh unnerved Spike. "That is the bloody point Spike! Let go of all this stupidity. Are you trying to tell me that this
is what you want? You are nothing to them!" Each word was spoke so forcibly, it seemed that the speaker wanted
to drive the words into Spike's skull.
Spike took a step back, feeling oddly comforted by the warm caress of the sun's light fingers. A low growl emanated
from his throat. "What the hell do you know? You and all this cryptic bullshit."
The yellow eyes flashed triumphantly, "More then you can ever fathom."
The creature retreated further into the shadows, and Spike impulsively leapt forward, hands grasping thin air.
"Wait! Who the fuck are you? How do you...?" the sentence was left trailing, and the creature stopped its retreat.
"Look inside you Spike."
Spike frowned, eyes instantly falling to the ground; he looked up again and found he was alone.
* * *
The music throbbed in her temples, infusing every particle of her being with the all-consuming beat.
Eyes drifted close, as she sought to lose herself even further into the raw rhythm. Here lies power, pure and
uncorrupted. Dizzily, she swayed to the melody, letting the flowing strands of music bear her upwards.
A hand clamped harshly on her arm, and her cry of pain was drowned in the wailing tune. Eyes widening, she was
spun around, her own brown eyes meeting green fire.
Her mouth opened, but before she could say anything, the other hand clamped on her mouth, silencing her.
Once assured of her silence, her captor spun around. She let herself be dragged through the writhing crowd.
Once outside, she instinctively gulped in fresh air. Her questioning eyes never leaving her captor's face.
Finally her captor spoke. "I badly want to hurt them, and I need your help."
Tara's eyes widened, and before she could protest, Anya fired off a reply, anticipating the witch's response.
"Don't give me that goody-goody crap. I know the other witch is better for this sort of thing, but she's not gonna
help me." the shrewd green gaze narrowed contemplatively, "And besides, I though you'd have a score to settle too."
* * *
How much time passed, Buffy wouldn't have a clue. Her gaze had been riveted to whatever clock was in the room,
and still she couldn't say how much time had gone by since he left.
Dawn had come home, hopes flying, which Buffy adroitly crushed with three words, "He's not here."
Dawn had glared accusingly at her older sister, determined to convict her of guilt before another word was spoken.
Buffy had simply ignored Dawn, commanding the teenager to do her homework. Sulkily she had stomped up to her
room, and had yet to come out.
Another glance at the clock told her that it was her usual time to patrol. Willow had gently suggested that she skip
the patrol for the night, but Buffy, wanting something to occupy her mind, insisted on going.
She was now headed out the door when Willow stopped her.
Expecting more arguments, Buffy had fixed her resolved face on before turning around.
But Willow offered no argument, and simply handed her a jacket.
Buffy almost wished that Willow would argue with her. She really didn't know if she wanted to go out there, she
was bound to run into...
She shook her head; she wasn't going to see him. He was probably in his crypt, sulking. And no she wasn't going
to casually barge into his crypt - of course not.
Buffy stood before Spike's crypt, cursing her disobedient feet, and scolding much more harshly her wilful heart.
Before she could tentatively barge in, a shiver raced down her spine. Spinning around, hand almost magically
conjuring her stake, Buffy could feel her hackles rising.
The hollow sound of clapping behind her made her spin around again.
He stepped forward, sensuous mouth twisted into a mocking grin. "And they say Spike's the whipped puppy."
Buffy glared at him, resenting the comment, "Why do the dead never stay dead around here?"
He laughed, the sound grating on her nerves. "You tell me Buffy darling, you're the expert."
He smiled at her, "You really are stunning you know. With the moonlight cascading around you, forming silver pools
around those dainty feet. Stunning." The words were spoken grudgingly, a bewildered frown gracing his distorted
features.
"Gee, you really know how to give a girl a compliment." she continued to glare, hands itching to imbed a stake into
the vampire's un-beating heart.
He shrugged, "Too much time spent around those who delude themselves about being poets." He too a step forward.
"Tell me dear Slayer, what are you doing here? At the doorstep of William the Bloody?"
She frowned, caught off guard, "That's a question I keep asking myself." She shrugged, "If you have the answer,
do share."
He took another step forward, and Buffy resisted the urge to bolt. "I think I will share - you keep coming because
you can't stand to be around anyone else." The yellow eyes flashed challengingly, daring her to oppose his words.
"You've tasted the kiss of Death, and found it heady, addictive. You keep coming because through it all, he's the only
one who's stuck it out. Your match; light and dark, good and evil - you're balance. Deep down inside you know it,
but that Slayer spirit of yours reviles it."
Unwilling to show him how unnerves she was, Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder, attempting a nonchalant pose.
"Vamps. What is with you guys and all the words?
She threw the stake, which imbedded itself into his flesh. Laughing he withdrew it, twirling it around his slender fingers,
his yellow eyes flashed teasingly. "Oh, I'm sorry, was I boring you?" His fingers tapped contemplatively on his chin.
"Now, what was I supposed to do?"
"Burst into dust?" Buffy offered helpfully.
He snapped his fingers, "Of course! How rude of me!" He flashed her one roguish grin before disintegrating into a
puff of dust.
Buffy glared at the pile of dust, already being borne away by the wind. In a fit of helpless fury, she kicked at the pile.
She stopped, casting a nervous glance around, before just letting all the frustration out and stomped on the dwindling
pile.
All of her pent up energy and frustrations melted away as she gleefully jumped on the ground, obliterating whatever
remained.
A low chuckle penetrated the haze around her mind. Slowly, she turned, cheeks already reddening.
Spike couldn't help himself, leaning on the door of his crypt; he had watched the Slayer, jumping up and down on
one spot, seemingly intent on eradicating whatever it was that was unlucky enough to lie beneath her feet. The sight
of her, indulging in her childish frustration, hazel eyes flashing with indignation, golden hair flung about her shoulders in
artless disarray, couldn't help elicit a laugh, and a very conscious readjustment of his tight black jeans.
Now that night had fallen, Spike knew without a doubt that insofar as his senses were concerned, nothing had
changed. He could feel the heat radiating off her, inhale that intoxicating scent, and hear every small catch in her breath.
Attempting to hide the unbidden reaction, he pushed himself to an upright position, the folds of his duster, mercifully
falling into place and hiding from sight his reaction to the very nearness of her.
"Slayer."
The word rolled off his tongue as it had done a million times before, and as always, a reactionary shiver raced down
her spine. The sound of his voice always left her shivering and weak-kneed. She really had to get used to that.
"If you're looking for the Bit, she's not here. I don't know anything about whatever demon you're hunting now. I
don't want to go anywhere with you. Don't ask me about philosophy and I don't care about your whiny friends.
In short sod off."
Before he could slam the door on her face, one small hand shot out to stop it. "I didn't come for any of that."
Head tilting to the side, he regarded her expectantly, "What is it? I don't have all night you know. Got things to do."
Buffy drew in a deep breath, "Spike..."
He rolled his eyes, "I do know my name you know."
"Would you shut up?!"
Spike had to hide his grin; he loved seeing that flash in her eyes. He nodded obligingly, silently urging her on.
"We need to talk."
~To be continued~
by Angel Eternal aka Angeline
email: spikes_angel01@yahoo.com.au
Website: In Dreams and Shadows
http://www.geocities.com/spikes_angel01/index.html
Rating: R
Pairings: Primarily S/B, but also has W/T and X/A
Summary: Secrets revealed have a disastrous aftermath.
Author's Notes: This is set S6, and is loosely based on spoilers concerning the season. I just want to point out
though that I haven't seen S6 and won't for a while, so if things aren't quite right, you'd know why.
I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter! To cut a long story short, my comp wasn't working. I really am sorry.
Distribution: "In Dreams and Shadows", "Shadow Borne", "Shelby's and Erin's Place" and at FF.net but it you want to
archive it go ahead, but just let me know first - I kinda like to know where it's going, and plus I find out about more
S/B shipper sites! ::grins::
Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, several companies and God knows who else.
One thing is certain - I don't own any of it! Nothing - zip - nada!
There was no kissage.
It was a simple statement that Xander forced to cycle in his mind as Willow held him back.
They weren't kissing, just...hugging. Yeah, hugging, almost sibling-like. Xander wanted to rip him off her, the
surge of brotherly over-protected ness tempered with the calm rationalisation that Buffy seemed to need this.
After what seemed to be an eternity, Buffy pulled out of Spike's embrace, and looked up at him.
"It doesn't matter Spike." she repeated.
The scarred eyebrow quirked up, "So you're going to drop this now?"
Xander noted with some resentment that Spike kept his arms tucked comfortably around Buffy's waist, as if it
belonged there.
Buffy bit her lip, "We need to know."
Spike snorted, "Come on Buffy!"
Frowning, Buffy took a step back, "Why are you so adamantly against this Spike?"
As if the lost of contact with Buffy undid his confidence, Spike's shoulders slumped. "Slayer..."
Buffy planted her hands firmly on her hips, her pose openly challenging.
Spike's eyes narrowed, "You say it doesn't matter, but it does." He waved his hands at Xander and Willow.
"Have you told them yet Slayer? Mentioned anything about your dirty little secret?"
Buffy took at another step back, fists clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He turned to the other two, "Ever asked her what happened that night? We know what happened to the two of you.
Ever asked her what happened between us?" He turned back to Buffy, "Can't ever admit right Slayer? But no, a
soul would make it all better."
Without another word, he stalked out the door, duster flaring out behind him.
Buffy felt rooted to the spot, she watched him stalk away, helpless to prevent him, in the wake of the dawning
numbness.
Xander was the first to break the silence, "Buffy?"
She turned around, eyes blank. After a moment it registered that Willow and Xander were there. She mumbled
something and disappeared up the stairs.
Willow released the breath that she was unaware of holding in.
Xander frowned, "Oh yeah, of course she'd run upstairs! What else would she do?" He spun around to face Willow,
"What was he ranting about?"
Willow shook her slowly, already becoming lost in thought.
Willow wasn't answering fast enough to satisfy him, Xander started to pace. The thought that he could have hurt
Buffy because of his stupidity, made his head throb. He didn't know if he could take any more.
"She hasn't told me anything but..."
Xander stopped pacing, and once more turned to face Willow. "But? There's a but?"
Willow tried to pick the right words, "Yes, there's a but - but I think I can guess."
She once more fell into silence, frustrating Xander even further, "Spit it out! All this waiting is killing me!"
She took a deep breath, and releasing it slowly, "I think she likes him."
Xander was silent, Willow looked up, and instead of the overprotective fury that she expected, she saw incomprehension.
"Xander." she took a step closer. "She likes him - cares about him."
Xander started to laugh. "Oh come on Wills. That's just too funny, let's be serious here."
Willow shook her head, "I am being serious! Xander think about it. After...after we brought her back, Spike was
the only one that she talked to. As in really talked to. She was Buffy around him, around us, she was on autopilot."
When he started to protest, she waved her hands at him, "Think about it Xander. When was the last time she called
Spike a pig?"
The question brought him up short. "Not since she came back."
The statement, with all its implications hung in the air between them, like a lead.
With a defeated sigh, he slumped into the sofa. "I guess it could be worse."
Willow sat next to him, and patted his knee comfortingly, "Yeah, Angel might come back, and hello broody twosome."
Xander shuddered at the thought.
* * *
He burst into his crypt, relishing the familiar enveloping caress of darkness. Being in the sunlight after all this time was
giving him a headache. He paced the length of his crypt, his thoughts in a whirl.
He had been a fool to be dreaming of warm embraces and kisses - of happily ever afters. Such things were never
meant for him. He had almost deceived himself, walling in the sunlight with Dawn. He should've known better.
He was nothing without a soul.
Everything he had done was for nothing. All the sacrifices that he had made were made in vain. She would never
look at him the same way as she looked at her precious love.
A growl rumbled from his throat, feeding the impotent fury that lashed at his being, Spike threw a chair at the wall.
Was he always going to be in Soulboy's shadow?
Spike was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't hear the soft footfall on hard stone.
He spun around when the low laugh reverberated around the crypt, mockingly bouncing off the stone walls.
His eyes focused on the shadowy figure in the corner.
"What the hell are you doing here? That's trespassing I'll have you know." He spoke flatly, wondering if he could just
throw the bugger out without much of a fight. He didn't care to indulge in a spot of violence.
"Not if I live here." the words were spoken in a low tone. He made no move to come forward and Spike belatedly
remembered that he was standing in the sunlight.
"What?" Spike frowned, bewildered and unsettled. As his eyes adjusted, he saw with uneasy clarity that his visitor
was the vampire that he and Buffy met the other night. He also remembered their eerie parting.
The vampire didn't elaborate on his cryptic comment, "You have it all now, then you realise that you have nothing."
Spike stiffened, and remained silent. The sense of familiarity overcame him again. Was it the low, velvety voice that
he seemed to have heard before? The features, distorted as they were by the demon, haunted him, kept him
wondering where he'd seen that face before? What dark alley that stank with death? What chaotic mob, thirsting for
shed blood?
"It's so close isn't it? Tell me Spike, is it worth it?"
Spike remained stonily silent, determined to hear the ponce out. He could almost see the phantom smile on the
stranger's lips.
"What of your great love Spike?" He moved forward, "You've had the oh so sweet kiss of first love in the eyes of
a beauteous girl whose name you can't even recall. You've drowned in the bitter slap of love in the glances of your
Cecilly." His yellow eyes flashed mockingly. "You've died in the cold embraces of your Drusilla." He stopped his
restless pacing to a sudden stop. "And now you believe you've awoken to the love of all loves, the one you cannot
love, but which your entire being craves. The Slayer."
The last name was spat out, the speaker's disgust blatantly obvious. Spike resisted the urge to leap to Buffy's defence,
now was not the time.
Trying to conceal his discomfort, Spike scowled at him. "Would you get to the bloody point?"
His laugh unnerved Spike. "That is the bloody point Spike! Let go of all this stupidity. Are you trying to tell me that this
is what you want? You are nothing to them!" Each word was spoke so forcibly, it seemed that the speaker wanted
to drive the words into Spike's skull.
Spike took a step back, feeling oddly comforted by the warm caress of the sun's light fingers. A low growl emanated
from his throat. "What the hell do you know? You and all this cryptic bullshit."
The yellow eyes flashed triumphantly, "More then you can ever fathom."
The creature retreated further into the shadows, and Spike impulsively leapt forward, hands grasping thin air.
"Wait! Who the fuck are you? How do you...?" the sentence was left trailing, and the creature stopped its retreat.
"Look inside you Spike."
Spike frowned, eyes instantly falling to the ground; he looked up again and found he was alone.
* * *
The music throbbed in her temples, infusing every particle of her being with the all-consuming beat.
Eyes drifted close, as she sought to lose herself even further into the raw rhythm. Here lies power, pure and
uncorrupted. Dizzily, she swayed to the melody, letting the flowing strands of music bear her upwards.
A hand clamped harshly on her arm, and her cry of pain was drowned in the wailing tune. Eyes widening, she was
spun around, her own brown eyes meeting green fire.
Her mouth opened, but before she could say anything, the other hand clamped on her mouth, silencing her.
Once assured of her silence, her captor spun around. She let herself be dragged through the writhing crowd.
Once outside, she instinctively gulped in fresh air. Her questioning eyes never leaving her captor's face.
Finally her captor spoke. "I badly want to hurt them, and I need your help."
Tara's eyes widened, and before she could protest, Anya fired off a reply, anticipating the witch's response.
"Don't give me that goody-goody crap. I know the other witch is better for this sort of thing, but she's not gonna
help me." the shrewd green gaze narrowed contemplatively, "And besides, I though you'd have a score to settle too."
* * *
How much time passed, Buffy wouldn't have a clue. Her gaze had been riveted to whatever clock was in the room,
and still she couldn't say how much time had gone by since he left.
Dawn had come home, hopes flying, which Buffy adroitly crushed with three words, "He's not here."
Dawn had glared accusingly at her older sister, determined to convict her of guilt before another word was spoken.
Buffy had simply ignored Dawn, commanding the teenager to do her homework. Sulkily she had stomped up to her
room, and had yet to come out.
Another glance at the clock told her that it was her usual time to patrol. Willow had gently suggested that she skip
the patrol for the night, but Buffy, wanting something to occupy her mind, insisted on going.
She was now headed out the door when Willow stopped her.
Expecting more arguments, Buffy had fixed her resolved face on before turning around.
But Willow offered no argument, and simply handed her a jacket.
Buffy almost wished that Willow would argue with her. She really didn't know if she wanted to go out there, she
was bound to run into...
She shook her head; she wasn't going to see him. He was probably in his crypt, sulking. And no she wasn't going
to casually barge into his crypt - of course not.
Buffy stood before Spike's crypt, cursing her disobedient feet, and scolding much more harshly her wilful heart.
Before she could tentatively barge in, a shiver raced down her spine. Spinning around, hand almost magically
conjuring her stake, Buffy could feel her hackles rising.
The hollow sound of clapping behind her made her spin around again.
He stepped forward, sensuous mouth twisted into a mocking grin. "And they say Spike's the whipped puppy."
Buffy glared at him, resenting the comment, "Why do the dead never stay dead around here?"
He laughed, the sound grating on her nerves. "You tell me Buffy darling, you're the expert."
He smiled at her, "You really are stunning you know. With the moonlight cascading around you, forming silver pools
around those dainty feet. Stunning." The words were spoken grudgingly, a bewildered frown gracing his distorted
features.
"Gee, you really know how to give a girl a compliment." she continued to glare, hands itching to imbed a stake into
the vampire's un-beating heart.
He shrugged, "Too much time spent around those who delude themselves about being poets." He too a step forward.
"Tell me dear Slayer, what are you doing here? At the doorstep of William the Bloody?"
She frowned, caught off guard, "That's a question I keep asking myself." She shrugged, "If you have the answer,
do share."
He took another step forward, and Buffy resisted the urge to bolt. "I think I will share - you keep coming because
you can't stand to be around anyone else." The yellow eyes flashed challengingly, daring her to oppose his words.
"You've tasted the kiss of Death, and found it heady, addictive. You keep coming because through it all, he's the only
one who's stuck it out. Your match; light and dark, good and evil - you're balance. Deep down inside you know it,
but that Slayer spirit of yours reviles it."
Unwilling to show him how unnerves she was, Buffy flipped her hair over her shoulder, attempting a nonchalant pose.
"Vamps. What is with you guys and all the words?
She threw the stake, which imbedded itself into his flesh. Laughing he withdrew it, twirling it around his slender fingers,
his yellow eyes flashed teasingly. "Oh, I'm sorry, was I boring you?" His fingers tapped contemplatively on his chin.
"Now, what was I supposed to do?"
"Burst into dust?" Buffy offered helpfully.
He snapped his fingers, "Of course! How rude of me!" He flashed her one roguish grin before disintegrating into a
puff of dust.
Buffy glared at the pile of dust, already being borne away by the wind. In a fit of helpless fury, she kicked at the pile.
She stopped, casting a nervous glance around, before just letting all the frustration out and stomped on the dwindling
pile.
All of her pent up energy and frustrations melted away as she gleefully jumped on the ground, obliterating whatever
remained.
A low chuckle penetrated the haze around her mind. Slowly, she turned, cheeks already reddening.
Spike couldn't help himself, leaning on the door of his crypt; he had watched the Slayer, jumping up and down on
one spot, seemingly intent on eradicating whatever it was that was unlucky enough to lie beneath her feet. The sight
of her, indulging in her childish frustration, hazel eyes flashing with indignation, golden hair flung about her shoulders in
artless disarray, couldn't help elicit a laugh, and a very conscious readjustment of his tight black jeans.
Now that night had fallen, Spike knew without a doubt that insofar as his senses were concerned, nothing had
changed. He could feel the heat radiating off her, inhale that intoxicating scent, and hear every small catch in her breath.
Attempting to hide the unbidden reaction, he pushed himself to an upright position, the folds of his duster, mercifully
falling into place and hiding from sight his reaction to the very nearness of her.
"Slayer."
The word rolled off his tongue as it had done a million times before, and as always, a reactionary shiver raced down
her spine. The sound of his voice always left her shivering and weak-kneed. She really had to get used to that.
"If you're looking for the Bit, she's not here. I don't know anything about whatever demon you're hunting now. I
don't want to go anywhere with you. Don't ask me about philosophy and I don't care about your whiny friends.
In short sod off."
Before he could slam the door on her face, one small hand shot out to stop it. "I didn't come for any of that."
Head tilting to the side, he regarded her expectantly, "What is it? I don't have all night you know. Got things to do."
Buffy drew in a deep breath, "Spike..."
He rolled his eyes, "I do know my name you know."
"Would you shut up?!"
Spike had to hide his grin; he loved seeing that flash in her eyes. He nodded obligingly, silently urging her on.
"We need to talk."
~To be continued~
