Avery was walking alone, her eyes searching blindly for a place to sleep for the night. She had no where to go, even though none of them knew it. She stashed her bag, packed with her meagre belongings, in an empty building during the day. Her workout clothes, a summer dress and jacket and what she was wearing now was all she had.
She found nothing as went, no empty alleys, no parking lots that were deserted. People were everywhere and when they weren't somewhere, the vampires had taken over. Avery knew she wasn't going to find a place to sleep that night, so she kept wandering, waiting for the morning to come.
She knew she could go back to Spike's crypt, she was sure he'd let her stay there but she wasn't sure she trusted herself around the vampire. He couldn't hurt anyone, but there was still something between them, an energy that she couldn't explain. It was something she didn't want to deal with, now or ever. Especially not after he had licked her blood off his fingers.
"Avery!" She heard her name being called and turned toward the sound, seeing the blonde vampire chasing after her.
"Not now." She groaned, then turned away from him and continued to walk.
It took him a few minutes to catch up with her and when he did he grabbed her shoulder.
"Spike, let go of me." Avery said, her voice calm and calculated.
"No, I want to talk to you."
"Sure you want that? Are you sure you don't want to bite me instead?" She retorted.
Spike growled deep in his throat. "Would you just listen to me?"
"Would you just let go of me?" She rolled her eyes. "God, just leave me alone. Get over yourself." She wrenched her arm from his grasp and began to walk away once again.
"You're just going to walk away?" He asked. "Just like that? Leave me standing here with something to say to you."
"I don't care what you have to say to me." She threw over her shoulder.
"I think you do." Spike began to follow her. "I think you care a lot, but you're just too scared. Look, I don't know what happened to you Avery, but it's not me. You're scared of everything and everybody and you can't live like that."
She stopped and turned to him again. "What would you know about living?"
"I've done it for about one hundred and thirty more years than you have." Spike caught up to her once more. "Just because my heart doesn't beat or I don't breathe doesn't mean I haven't lived."
"You breathe." Avery pointed out and Spike grinned.
"It's a human habit I've never been able to break." He shook his head. "But I've lived. And running away from things isn't living. What happened? The Council didn't send you, did they?"
"Why do you care? Why do you want to know about me?" She paused. "And why should I trust you?"
"I care because I just do. I want to know about you because I care. And you should trust me because you can."
Avery sighed "They sent me. Only I'm about two years too late. They wanted me to stop Faith when she started acting crazy, I was supposed to kill her."
"You're not a slayer in training?"
"Yeah, I am. But I'm also a paid assassin for the Council." Avery shrugged. "Sick Brits. Only problem with that job is that they don't pay you until its done and Faith never got done. The Council is pissed, Faith knows who I am and once she's out I'm scared she'll come for me. I never know who I can trust anymore Spike and with Buffy being mad about whatever she thinks she sees with me and you, I'm running out of people to help me."
"I can help you." Spike told her. "You don't have to keep on running. You can stay with me."
"What about Buffy? Don't you love her?"
He paused, searching for an answer in the mess inside his head. "I don't know." He finally said. "That's as honest as I can be with you. I thought I did and now I just don't know. You've confused me." Spike smiled gently at her. "Will you come with me?"
Avery looked downward, her eyes filled with worry. "Yeah, I guess so." She didn't smile when she looked at him. "This is scary."
"What is?"
"Two nights Spike. I've spent two nights with you and you've managed to make me trust you like I haven't trusted anyone in a long time."
He brushed his finger against her arm. "And why is that scary?"
A smile burst across her face. "Could be due to the fact that you're a vampire."
He smiled back at her. "Could be. Let's go home."
* * * *
As Spike prepared his bed for her, Avery watched him, wondering what she was doing in the basement portion of his crypt. He was talking, partly to himself, partly to her, but she wasn't really listening to him. She was just watching.
He was leaning over, tucking a clean blanket in around the edges of the bed, lean fingers working quickly and efficiently. She could see tendons straining in his arms as he stretched, pushing the last bit of fabric under the edge of the bed. She could see his profile, could see the scar that split his eyebrow, his dark blue eyes and his amazing cheekbones. Wondering how he got that scar, Avery's eyes travelled on.
His skin look so smooth and cool, pale marble building his arms and chest and neck. Where his throat disappeared into his tee shirt she could imagine the muscles that connected his neck to his shoulders, the wiry tension in the way he moved.
"You okay love?" He asked suddenly, startling her.
Avery glanced at him. "I'm fine. Just tired really . . . and looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the first time in weeks."
Spike grimaced. "I don't like hearing that."
She shrugged. "Sorry."
He glanced back at the bed. "All clean. You just go ahead and change while I pop back upstairs and make sure there aren't any dirty things prowling about. You can get right to sleep if you're that tired."
"I am." Avery stood up from the chair she was in, then glanced at her bag in disappointment. "I don't really have anything to sleep in . . . I've sorta been alternating the three outfits I have, none of them are really sleeping material."
Spike shrugged. "No problem." He stepped over to a beat up dresser and opened one of the drawers. Rummaging around in the back he found a tee shirt that he had once worn. It was longer than most of the shirts he owned and he hoped she'd feel comfortable in it. "Think this'll do pet?"
She caught the tee shirt when he threw it at her, the nodded. "Yeah, sure, it'll do."
Spike tossed a grin her way, then headed up the stairs.
Avery watched him go, then changed out of her clothes quickly and into the tee shirt he had supplied her with. Without blowing out the candles Spike had lit, she crawled into his bed and huddled down under the thick blankets. It was cold in his crypt and she wasn't really equipped for a cold night in a tee shirt. She tossed and turned for a few moments, then found a comfortable position and settled in. She had nearly drifted off to sleep when the blankets were lifted and a cool body slid in beside her.
Avery's eyes opened slowly and she saw the back of Spike's head on the pillow next to her. He settled onto the bed and pulled the blankets back up around his shoulders.
"I didn't know we were both going to sleep in the bed." She murmured uncomfortably.
Spike turned over to look at her. "Well, where did you think I was going to sleep?"
Avery shrugged. "Sorry . . . this is just kinda weird."
"What's weird about it?" The vampire asking, settling down on his other side and stared at her. They were nearly nose to nose and Avery pulled back slightly.
"Well . . . I don't know Spike, it just doesn't feel right."
"Do you want me to find somewhere else to sleep?" He asked. "Because I guess can if you need me to."
"No, no, it's okay." Avery nodded in confirmation. "It's fine. Really, I'll be okay."
"Okay then. G'night pet." Spike murmured, then closed his eyes.
"Night." Avery echoed and stared at the vampire. He had taken off his socks and tee shirt, wearing only his jeans now. His chest and stomach looked smooth and chiselled and Avery fought the urge to reach out and run her hand along his muscles. His hands were curled under his face, his arms so near her that she could lean forward and touch them. Wishing that he had to breathe, Avery waited until she was fairly certain he was asleep. With no even breath to tell her for sure, she gently reached out a hand and ran her finger tips along his arm. When Spike's eyes remained closed, she became braver and reached out to touch the smooth skin on his chest.
Her hand pressed against him lightly, fluttering there for a moment, then she trailed her hand down. Over his muscular chest to his stomach, then back up to his side and shoulder. It was exactly like she'd imagined it, smooth and cold. The sensation of his dead skin under her fingers made her shiver and when he spoke she nearly screamed.
"It's the same way for us." He whispered, his voice hoarse. "Your skin is so warm and inviting, it's hard for us not to want to touch a human."
Avery withdrew her hand and stared at him. "Not sure what to say."
Spike's eyes met hers and he tried a gentle smile. His hand touched her arm, sliding upward to her shoulder. His fingers were like ice, but her body heat melted the touch and warmed him slightly.
"You know what feels even nicer?" He asked.
Avery was silent for a long moment, then shook her head. Spike smiled again and nudged her gently. Reading what he wanted, she rolled onto her other side and moved back toward him. Her curved body fit against him nicely and she could feel his cool chest against her back. One of his arms crept over her side to close her in and Avery finally trusted herself to smile. She reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his, then closed her eyes and realized she felt safer with him than she with anyone else.
Spike breathed in her mild smell, the wind that he loved so much.
* * * *
Buffy stood in front of the Magick Box and glanced at her watch for the third time. It had only been two minutes since she'd last checked it but Anya was late, again. There were a few customers milling around outside, all impatiently checking their watches, all knowing the shop should have been opened almost ten minutes earlier.
"Where is she?" Willow murmured, cupping her hands around her eyes and peeking through the window. "She's gotta be in there somewhere."
"She should be." Buffy said. "Unless she's not, which is quite possible and then we've got some ticked off customers on our hands."
Willow backed off, hands held up defensively. "I'm just another customer." She grinned. "I'm not dealing with them."
The door flew open a second later and Anya stared out, smiling cheerfully. "Welcome to the Magick Box! Come in and buy many things." She looked at the slayer and witch. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. A new shipment of rat's eyes came in this morning and I was just so busy unpacking them that I forgot I had to open the store. Then I smelled the money and it all came back to me."
Willow smiled and stepped into the store. "So, a new shipment huh? Anything other than the eyes?"
Anya nodded. "We got lots of witchy stuff in. Come look and spend lots of money." She led Willow away to show her the new things they had received as Buffy crept toward the back room.
She slipped inside, hating that many of the customers were casting suspicious glances her way. She found it mildly offensive that they thought she looked like a thief. She saved their lives night after night and still they thought she was just some lousy kid.
Trying to take her mind off the looks she had received, Buffy slipped off her jacket and placed it on the chair near the front of the room. Walking over to the punching bag, she stretched her muscles and touched her toes, working out the knots she could feel in her back. She started out lightly, punching and kicking the bag, hopping from side to side. As she worked, her anger started to grow.
She was angry at Spike, for walking in on him the night before last and having him feed her some lame story about Avery trying to kill him. Buffy didn't understand what was going out between them, but she knew he was in love with her and recently, that had stopped seeming like such a bad thing. Lately she'd begun to find herself looking forward to her nightly visit to his crypt and thought he felt the same. But that night he had been staring at Avery like she was the last woman on earth, which she wasn't.
Buffy had to admit that Avery was a beautiful woman, but that didn't change the fact that Spike already had a woman to stare at like that. He was as bad with slayers as Buffy found herself to be with vampires.
She cringed when she thought that, reminding herself of the biggest fear she had about Spike. He was a vampire. She had done that, she didn't need to go through it again, it was always the same. But there was something different about him . . . he didn't have a soul, granted, but that didn't mean he wasn't good. Deep down she believed he had changed, chip in his head or not.
Maybe it had been stupid of her to think that Spike was a one woman kind of vampire. He certainly seemed like the type to play around behind someone's back, that was the vibe he gave off. But Buffy knew different. As hard as she tried to convince herself that Spike was just that type of person, she knew he wasn't. She didn't know much about his life before he was a vampire, but she knew he'd been in love. It had only been one woman for him.
And when Drusilla had been in his life, he had spent centuries with her and never once had he turned away. He had never found another woman to court behind her back, he had always been true to her.
So, if Spike wasn't the type to play around on women, then there really was only one explanation for his behaviour. Buffy had been wrong, he didn't love her at all. With that thought lingering in her head she slammed her fist into the punching bag, causing it to rock violently on the reinforced chains that Giles had installed after she had broken them once.
The thought of Giles just brought up another torrent of pain for Buffy and she pulled back her fist and slammed it into the punching back one last time.
"Quite the punch you've got there." Avery said from the door, watching the punching bag swing back and forth. "Lesson number one; anger makes you stronger."
"I'm not angry." Buffy stated, then grabbed a towel and mopped the sweat from her brow.
"Yes you are." Avery told her. "And don't try to argue. I can tell." Without waiting for a reply, the slayer in training pulled her sweatshirt over her head and glanced at Buffy. "And yes, this is still the way I dress to work out, whether you like it or not. So, where do we begin?"
"Uh . . ." Buffy paused, "you know, maybe we should have waited a few days, let me prepare something else for training. I've never really done this before."
"No kidding." Avery shot back. "Couldn't tell . . . really." She paused. "You did fine yesterday, even if you do hate me."
Buffy ignored her comment and continued, "Well, Giles used to do this exercise with me for precision, so maybe we can do that."
"Sure, just tell me where to go." Avery bounced on the heels of her feet and waited for instruction.
"You go over there," Buffy said, pointing to a mat across the room from her, "and I stand over here and throw knives at you."
"Whoa, wait a second. You're gonna be throwing knives at me? I don't know if I like that I idea."
"You have to trust the person who's training you."
Avery snorted. "Why should I? You're obviously pissed."
Buffy stared at her. "I'm not pissed."
"Yes you are. God, we went through this not five minutes ago and I told you not to argue and you didn't." Avery rolled her eyes. "You're pissed. I don't know if it's at me, or your watcher for leaving you or just the world in general but you are mad. And I don't trust an angry person with a knife."
"Better get used to it." Buffy replied, taking a knife from the display case beside her. "Because it seems I get angry whenever I'm around you." She drew her arm back and threw the knife as hard as she could as Avery.
The younger woman spun into a high kick that knocked the knife off course, but when her foot came down she was fuming. "What the hell are you doing? I said I didn't want to do this exercise, you can't force me to do it."
"Watch me." Buffy replied, throwing another knife at her.
Avery slapped it away with her fist and glared at Buffy. "This isn't funny."
"It's not supposed to be." She said, then aimed the knife directly at her face.
Avery managed to knock the knife away for a third time, but she wasn't ready for the one that came right after that. It slammed through her chest, buried up to the hilt and Buffy wasn't ready for the agonizing scream that followed the impact.
"Oh God!" Buffy cried, running toward her. "Oh my God, are you okay?"
"I have a knife in my chest." Avery hissed at her. "Do you think I'm okay?"
Willow pushed open the door and ran in. "I heard a scream, are you okay Buffy?"
"She's fine," Avery growled from where she lay, "Buffy's just fine. She's not the one who was just stabbed, was she?"
Buffy backed away. "Will, I didn't mean to. I just kept throwing the knives at her and she made me so angry and . . ." she trailed off, looking horrified with herself, then turned and fled, leaving Willow along with Avery.
"Hey, lemme take a look at it." Willow murmured, kneeling beside the other girl. "I can probably fix it no problem."
"How?" Avery asked.
Willow smiled. "Little bit of magick can fix almost anything."
Avery stared at her for a long moment. "There is a such thing as using too much magick, you know."
Willow's jaw dropped and she backed away slightly. "What? I mean, did Buffy tell you?"
"Tell me about what?"
"N-never mind. Uh, does that mean you don't want me to fix it?"
"Not with magick. If you keep doing that people are gonna get really angry and probably really scared. You don't need magick for everything."
Willow stood up. "Just shut up, okay? Just stop talking." Her mouth was set in a hard, straight line. "Just . . ." she turned without finishing her sentence and followed Buffy from the room.
Avery coughed, staring at the knife in her chest, then stood up. She picked up her sweatshirt to cover the handle sticking out of her body, then found the back door and disappeared into the sunlight.
She found nothing as went, no empty alleys, no parking lots that were deserted. People were everywhere and when they weren't somewhere, the vampires had taken over. Avery knew she wasn't going to find a place to sleep that night, so she kept wandering, waiting for the morning to come.
She knew she could go back to Spike's crypt, she was sure he'd let her stay there but she wasn't sure she trusted herself around the vampire. He couldn't hurt anyone, but there was still something between them, an energy that she couldn't explain. It was something she didn't want to deal with, now or ever. Especially not after he had licked her blood off his fingers.
"Avery!" She heard her name being called and turned toward the sound, seeing the blonde vampire chasing after her.
"Not now." She groaned, then turned away from him and continued to walk.
It took him a few minutes to catch up with her and when he did he grabbed her shoulder.
"Spike, let go of me." Avery said, her voice calm and calculated.
"No, I want to talk to you."
"Sure you want that? Are you sure you don't want to bite me instead?" She retorted.
Spike growled deep in his throat. "Would you just listen to me?"
"Would you just let go of me?" She rolled her eyes. "God, just leave me alone. Get over yourself." She wrenched her arm from his grasp and began to walk away once again.
"You're just going to walk away?" He asked. "Just like that? Leave me standing here with something to say to you."
"I don't care what you have to say to me." She threw over her shoulder.
"I think you do." Spike began to follow her. "I think you care a lot, but you're just too scared. Look, I don't know what happened to you Avery, but it's not me. You're scared of everything and everybody and you can't live like that."
She stopped and turned to him again. "What would you know about living?"
"I've done it for about one hundred and thirty more years than you have." Spike caught up to her once more. "Just because my heart doesn't beat or I don't breathe doesn't mean I haven't lived."
"You breathe." Avery pointed out and Spike grinned.
"It's a human habit I've never been able to break." He shook his head. "But I've lived. And running away from things isn't living. What happened? The Council didn't send you, did they?"
"Why do you care? Why do you want to know about me?" She paused. "And why should I trust you?"
"I care because I just do. I want to know about you because I care. And you should trust me because you can."
Avery sighed "They sent me. Only I'm about two years too late. They wanted me to stop Faith when she started acting crazy, I was supposed to kill her."
"You're not a slayer in training?"
"Yeah, I am. But I'm also a paid assassin for the Council." Avery shrugged. "Sick Brits. Only problem with that job is that they don't pay you until its done and Faith never got done. The Council is pissed, Faith knows who I am and once she's out I'm scared she'll come for me. I never know who I can trust anymore Spike and with Buffy being mad about whatever she thinks she sees with me and you, I'm running out of people to help me."
"I can help you." Spike told her. "You don't have to keep on running. You can stay with me."
"What about Buffy? Don't you love her?"
He paused, searching for an answer in the mess inside his head. "I don't know." He finally said. "That's as honest as I can be with you. I thought I did and now I just don't know. You've confused me." Spike smiled gently at her. "Will you come with me?"
Avery looked downward, her eyes filled with worry. "Yeah, I guess so." She didn't smile when she looked at him. "This is scary."
"What is?"
"Two nights Spike. I've spent two nights with you and you've managed to make me trust you like I haven't trusted anyone in a long time."
He brushed his finger against her arm. "And why is that scary?"
A smile burst across her face. "Could be due to the fact that you're a vampire."
He smiled back at her. "Could be. Let's go home."
* * * *
As Spike prepared his bed for her, Avery watched him, wondering what she was doing in the basement portion of his crypt. He was talking, partly to himself, partly to her, but she wasn't really listening to him. She was just watching.
He was leaning over, tucking a clean blanket in around the edges of the bed, lean fingers working quickly and efficiently. She could see tendons straining in his arms as he stretched, pushing the last bit of fabric under the edge of the bed. She could see his profile, could see the scar that split his eyebrow, his dark blue eyes and his amazing cheekbones. Wondering how he got that scar, Avery's eyes travelled on.
His skin look so smooth and cool, pale marble building his arms and chest and neck. Where his throat disappeared into his tee shirt she could imagine the muscles that connected his neck to his shoulders, the wiry tension in the way he moved.
"You okay love?" He asked suddenly, startling her.
Avery glanced at him. "I'm fine. Just tired really . . . and looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the first time in weeks."
Spike grimaced. "I don't like hearing that."
She shrugged. "Sorry."
He glanced back at the bed. "All clean. You just go ahead and change while I pop back upstairs and make sure there aren't any dirty things prowling about. You can get right to sleep if you're that tired."
"I am." Avery stood up from the chair she was in, then glanced at her bag in disappointment. "I don't really have anything to sleep in . . . I've sorta been alternating the three outfits I have, none of them are really sleeping material."
Spike shrugged. "No problem." He stepped over to a beat up dresser and opened one of the drawers. Rummaging around in the back he found a tee shirt that he had once worn. It was longer than most of the shirts he owned and he hoped she'd feel comfortable in it. "Think this'll do pet?"
She caught the tee shirt when he threw it at her, the nodded. "Yeah, sure, it'll do."
Spike tossed a grin her way, then headed up the stairs.
Avery watched him go, then changed out of her clothes quickly and into the tee shirt he had supplied her with. Without blowing out the candles Spike had lit, she crawled into his bed and huddled down under the thick blankets. It was cold in his crypt and she wasn't really equipped for a cold night in a tee shirt. She tossed and turned for a few moments, then found a comfortable position and settled in. She had nearly drifted off to sleep when the blankets were lifted and a cool body slid in beside her.
Avery's eyes opened slowly and she saw the back of Spike's head on the pillow next to her. He settled onto the bed and pulled the blankets back up around his shoulders.
"I didn't know we were both going to sleep in the bed." She murmured uncomfortably.
Spike turned over to look at her. "Well, where did you think I was going to sleep?"
Avery shrugged. "Sorry . . . this is just kinda weird."
"What's weird about it?" The vampire asking, settling down on his other side and stared at her. They were nearly nose to nose and Avery pulled back slightly.
"Well . . . I don't know Spike, it just doesn't feel right."
"Do you want me to find somewhere else to sleep?" He asked. "Because I guess can if you need me to."
"No, no, it's okay." Avery nodded in confirmation. "It's fine. Really, I'll be okay."
"Okay then. G'night pet." Spike murmured, then closed his eyes.
"Night." Avery echoed and stared at the vampire. He had taken off his socks and tee shirt, wearing only his jeans now. His chest and stomach looked smooth and chiselled and Avery fought the urge to reach out and run her hand along his muscles. His hands were curled under his face, his arms so near her that she could lean forward and touch them. Wishing that he had to breathe, Avery waited until she was fairly certain he was asleep. With no even breath to tell her for sure, she gently reached out a hand and ran her finger tips along his arm. When Spike's eyes remained closed, she became braver and reached out to touch the smooth skin on his chest.
Her hand pressed against him lightly, fluttering there for a moment, then she trailed her hand down. Over his muscular chest to his stomach, then back up to his side and shoulder. It was exactly like she'd imagined it, smooth and cold. The sensation of his dead skin under her fingers made her shiver and when he spoke she nearly screamed.
"It's the same way for us." He whispered, his voice hoarse. "Your skin is so warm and inviting, it's hard for us not to want to touch a human."
Avery withdrew her hand and stared at him. "Not sure what to say."
Spike's eyes met hers and he tried a gentle smile. His hand touched her arm, sliding upward to her shoulder. His fingers were like ice, but her body heat melted the touch and warmed him slightly.
"You know what feels even nicer?" He asked.
Avery was silent for a long moment, then shook her head. Spike smiled again and nudged her gently. Reading what he wanted, she rolled onto her other side and moved back toward him. Her curved body fit against him nicely and she could feel his cool chest against her back. One of his arms crept over her side to close her in and Avery finally trusted herself to smile. She reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his, then closed her eyes and realized she felt safer with him than she with anyone else.
Spike breathed in her mild smell, the wind that he loved so much.
* * * *
Buffy stood in front of the Magick Box and glanced at her watch for the third time. It had only been two minutes since she'd last checked it but Anya was late, again. There were a few customers milling around outside, all impatiently checking their watches, all knowing the shop should have been opened almost ten minutes earlier.
"Where is she?" Willow murmured, cupping her hands around her eyes and peeking through the window. "She's gotta be in there somewhere."
"She should be." Buffy said. "Unless she's not, which is quite possible and then we've got some ticked off customers on our hands."
Willow backed off, hands held up defensively. "I'm just another customer." She grinned. "I'm not dealing with them."
The door flew open a second later and Anya stared out, smiling cheerfully. "Welcome to the Magick Box! Come in and buy many things." She looked at the slayer and witch. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. A new shipment of rat's eyes came in this morning and I was just so busy unpacking them that I forgot I had to open the store. Then I smelled the money and it all came back to me."
Willow smiled and stepped into the store. "So, a new shipment huh? Anything other than the eyes?"
Anya nodded. "We got lots of witchy stuff in. Come look and spend lots of money." She led Willow away to show her the new things they had received as Buffy crept toward the back room.
She slipped inside, hating that many of the customers were casting suspicious glances her way. She found it mildly offensive that they thought she looked like a thief. She saved their lives night after night and still they thought she was just some lousy kid.
Trying to take her mind off the looks she had received, Buffy slipped off her jacket and placed it on the chair near the front of the room. Walking over to the punching bag, she stretched her muscles and touched her toes, working out the knots she could feel in her back. She started out lightly, punching and kicking the bag, hopping from side to side. As she worked, her anger started to grow.
She was angry at Spike, for walking in on him the night before last and having him feed her some lame story about Avery trying to kill him. Buffy didn't understand what was going out between them, but she knew he was in love with her and recently, that had stopped seeming like such a bad thing. Lately she'd begun to find herself looking forward to her nightly visit to his crypt and thought he felt the same. But that night he had been staring at Avery like she was the last woman on earth, which she wasn't.
Buffy had to admit that Avery was a beautiful woman, but that didn't change the fact that Spike already had a woman to stare at like that. He was as bad with slayers as Buffy found herself to be with vampires.
She cringed when she thought that, reminding herself of the biggest fear she had about Spike. He was a vampire. She had done that, she didn't need to go through it again, it was always the same. But there was something different about him . . . he didn't have a soul, granted, but that didn't mean he wasn't good. Deep down she believed he had changed, chip in his head or not.
Maybe it had been stupid of her to think that Spike was a one woman kind of vampire. He certainly seemed like the type to play around behind someone's back, that was the vibe he gave off. But Buffy knew different. As hard as she tried to convince herself that Spike was just that type of person, she knew he wasn't. She didn't know much about his life before he was a vampire, but she knew he'd been in love. It had only been one woman for him.
And when Drusilla had been in his life, he had spent centuries with her and never once had he turned away. He had never found another woman to court behind her back, he had always been true to her.
So, if Spike wasn't the type to play around on women, then there really was only one explanation for his behaviour. Buffy had been wrong, he didn't love her at all. With that thought lingering in her head she slammed her fist into the punching bag, causing it to rock violently on the reinforced chains that Giles had installed after she had broken them once.
The thought of Giles just brought up another torrent of pain for Buffy and she pulled back her fist and slammed it into the punching back one last time.
"Quite the punch you've got there." Avery said from the door, watching the punching bag swing back and forth. "Lesson number one; anger makes you stronger."
"I'm not angry." Buffy stated, then grabbed a towel and mopped the sweat from her brow.
"Yes you are." Avery told her. "And don't try to argue. I can tell." Without waiting for a reply, the slayer in training pulled her sweatshirt over her head and glanced at Buffy. "And yes, this is still the way I dress to work out, whether you like it or not. So, where do we begin?"
"Uh . . ." Buffy paused, "you know, maybe we should have waited a few days, let me prepare something else for training. I've never really done this before."
"No kidding." Avery shot back. "Couldn't tell . . . really." She paused. "You did fine yesterday, even if you do hate me."
Buffy ignored her comment and continued, "Well, Giles used to do this exercise with me for precision, so maybe we can do that."
"Sure, just tell me where to go." Avery bounced on the heels of her feet and waited for instruction.
"You go over there," Buffy said, pointing to a mat across the room from her, "and I stand over here and throw knives at you."
"Whoa, wait a second. You're gonna be throwing knives at me? I don't know if I like that I idea."
"You have to trust the person who's training you."
Avery snorted. "Why should I? You're obviously pissed."
Buffy stared at her. "I'm not pissed."
"Yes you are. God, we went through this not five minutes ago and I told you not to argue and you didn't." Avery rolled her eyes. "You're pissed. I don't know if it's at me, or your watcher for leaving you or just the world in general but you are mad. And I don't trust an angry person with a knife."
"Better get used to it." Buffy replied, taking a knife from the display case beside her. "Because it seems I get angry whenever I'm around you." She drew her arm back and threw the knife as hard as she could as Avery.
The younger woman spun into a high kick that knocked the knife off course, but when her foot came down she was fuming. "What the hell are you doing? I said I didn't want to do this exercise, you can't force me to do it."
"Watch me." Buffy replied, throwing another knife at her.
Avery slapped it away with her fist and glared at Buffy. "This isn't funny."
"It's not supposed to be." She said, then aimed the knife directly at her face.
Avery managed to knock the knife away for a third time, but she wasn't ready for the one that came right after that. It slammed through her chest, buried up to the hilt and Buffy wasn't ready for the agonizing scream that followed the impact.
"Oh God!" Buffy cried, running toward her. "Oh my God, are you okay?"
"I have a knife in my chest." Avery hissed at her. "Do you think I'm okay?"
Willow pushed open the door and ran in. "I heard a scream, are you okay Buffy?"
"She's fine," Avery growled from where she lay, "Buffy's just fine. She's not the one who was just stabbed, was she?"
Buffy backed away. "Will, I didn't mean to. I just kept throwing the knives at her and she made me so angry and . . ." she trailed off, looking horrified with herself, then turned and fled, leaving Willow along with Avery.
"Hey, lemme take a look at it." Willow murmured, kneeling beside the other girl. "I can probably fix it no problem."
"How?" Avery asked.
Willow smiled. "Little bit of magick can fix almost anything."
Avery stared at her for a long moment. "There is a such thing as using too much magick, you know."
Willow's jaw dropped and she backed away slightly. "What? I mean, did Buffy tell you?"
"Tell me about what?"
"N-never mind. Uh, does that mean you don't want me to fix it?"
"Not with magick. If you keep doing that people are gonna get really angry and probably really scared. You don't need magick for everything."
Willow stood up. "Just shut up, okay? Just stop talking." Her mouth was set in a hard, straight line. "Just . . ." she turned without finishing her sentence and followed Buffy from the room.
Avery coughed, staring at the knife in her chest, then stood up. She picked up her sweatshirt to cover the handle sticking out of her body, then found the back door and disappeared into the sunlight.