THAT THIRD NOTCH
Part 2
Two more days and nights passed without a change in their situation. Buffy fiercely hoped that Giles had done the smart thing and sent Dawn and her mother to Los Angeles, to Angel. She and Spike had tried everything they could think of, but except for the small panel that was used to get them their food, they hadn't managed to find a way into their cell, let alone out.
Strange noises in the middle of the night woke Buffy from a restless slumber and she blinked the sleep from her eyes. She pinpointed the source of the sounds to be the dark corner behind Spike's bunk. His bed was empty. Buffy squinted to peer through the gloom until she discovered him hunched in the darkness.
"Spike?" She threw back the covers and pattered barefoot to him. "Are you all right?"
His head shot up. "Stay away from me," he snarled. His fangs glinted in the weak light of the nightlamp and Buffy recoiled in shock. She wondered if he realized he had vamped out. She stood back to study him while he rocked back and forth on his heels, moaning.
"Hungry," he grunted. "Smells so good. Want it!" His arm shot out to make a grab for her The chip kicked in and he slammed his palm against his forehead. "Aargh!" Spike screamed in pain. "Bloody can't. Need to."
With a start Buffy realized that it had begun: Spike was in the grip of vampiric blood lust. The clipped half-sentences were about her -- for the first time in months she was in real danger from the vampire. Dragging her feet, Buffy returned to her bed and pulled the wooden stake from beneath her mattress. Thus armed, she approached the trembling vampire again.
"Spike, listen to me." She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. Spike flew up from his crouch, whirled around and before Buffy knew what happened he had her pinned down beneath him. His eyes flashed yellow and the demon smirked, baring the vampire's fangs. "So bloody hungry."
Okay, this was not going to be easy, Buffy thought. She tensed her muscles and flipped them over. The stake hovered over his heart, poised to plunge into chest.
"Spike! Listen to me!" she hissed, her face inches from his.
For a moment his eyes cleared and Spike looked out at her, his gaze depthless and full of pain and -- fear?
"Do it, Slayer," he pleaded. "Now. Please." His eyes shifted back to yellow again and he snarled like a mad dog. Cold shivers ran down Buffy's spine.
"Spike!" She raised her voice and smacked his face with an open hand. "I said, listen!" An idea had been gnawing at her consciousness ever since Spike reminded her how long it had been since he fed. And in the past few minutes, when she watched him suffer and struggle to keep her safe, willing even to sacrifice himself before harming her, Buffy made up her mind.
She slapped him a few more times until his eyes changed back to blue and the ridges faded, so she knew she was talking to Spike, not the demon. "Listen," Buffy repeated a third time. She was not sure how much time she would have. "You can control this."
Spike began to shake his head and opened his mouth.
"Shut up!" Buffy snapped. He stared up at her and she caught his gaze drifting from her face down to her neck where a vein pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
She shook her head and flipped her long hair over her shoulder, further baring her neck. "Spike, I don't want to have to kill you. I..." She hesitated. "You can drink from me."
His eyes widened in shock and snapped back up to meet her gaze. "No, Buffy--"
Again she silenced him. "You're still in charge, Spike," she continued. "You can stop before you drain me. Please. I..." Buffy hesitated. "I need you. Not for Glory or Dawn, but for me."
Her words shocked him so much that he grew still beneath her.
"You. Want me. To feed. On you," Spike repeated, the words coming out in staccato bursts.
"Yes," Buffy said, rolling off of him. "If your death makes them win, then that's how we beat them. We can win this, Spike."
He sat up and studied her for a moment. "What if I can't--"
She placed a finger against his lips. "Won't happen. Just concentrate. I trust you, Spike." Buffy squatted before him, tilting her head and brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her shoulder. "Do it. Before the blood lust consumes you."
Buffy closed her eyes and tried to subdue her fear. She couldn't let him see how frightened she was. Although she told Spike she trusted him, she recalled that Angel had nearly killed her when she let him drink. And Angel possessed a soul, plus the poison had weakened him. Spike's demon was in a rage, craving for blood, demanding to be satisfied. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Before she could voice any second thoughts, however, Spike's demon surged forward once more and his teeth sank deep into her skin.
* * *
Spike drank greedily, swallowing big gulps of the thick, warm blood. He had forgotten how delicious fresh human blood tasted; it had been so long. His demon rejoiced, demanding more and more of the red, spicy liquid. Slayer blood raced through his veins, filling him, driving away the pain and gnawing hunger.
"Spike... you have to... stop." Buffy struggled weakly beneath him but her plea barely registered. The vampire was too busy sating his appetite.
More! his demon demanded, and Spike sucked mouthfuls of the red stuff from Buffy. He swallowed; blood trickled down his chin to drip on her collarbone. More! He never noticed her losing consciousness. He didn't react when the door flew open and crashed against the far wall with a loud 'bang!'; the sweet yet spicy taste in his mouth and the warm thickness on his tongue were his entire universe.
Strong hands grabbed Spike's arms and shoulders and dragged him away from Buffy. The moment his fangs tore free from her neck, realization sank in. Bloody hell! What had he done?
Crouched in a corner, Spike could only stare at Buffy's pale, limp body as capable hands lifted her on to a stretcher and took her away. The door closed behind them and Spike was left alone.
He had killed her. He had killed Buffy. The one woman he truly loved. "NOOO!" he screamed at the white ceiling and a string of curses left his lips. It didn't make him feel any better.
Hours passed while a single litany went on in Spike's head, like a broken record. Buffy. Was. Dead. Buffy. Was. Dead. And he was her killer.
How could he ever live with himself?
His gaze fell on the stake that had rolled beneath one of the bunks. Eyes narrowing, he reached for it. He had a choice; he didn't have to live with the knowledge that he killed his third Slayer. Buffy's Mr. Pointy would see to it. Spike found it grimly satisfactory. He had killed Buffy. Now her stake would dust him, even if he had drive it through his undead heart himself.
He turned the wooden object in his hand until the sharp end pointed at his chest.
Sudden pain hit him, lashed through his body, and he screamed. Then all went black.
* * *
The smell of grass.
It was the first thing Spike recognized as he struggled to regain consciousness. He opened one eye and squinted at the thin, green stalks that tickled his nose. For a long moment, he couldn't recall where he was, or what happened. Had he been drinking, and passed out in the graveyard near his crypt?
Then it hit, like a blow to the head. Buffy was gone. He killed her. And then he found the stake--
Spike moaned and dropped his head again. Bloody wanker. He could kill Buffy but was too much of a pansy to kill himself. They must have released him from the cell after they knocked him out. He recognized the nearest headstone and knew he was back in his home cemetery.
He didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Buffy was gone.
The dirt beneath him was still warm; the sun couldn't be down for very long. Spike let out a soft snort and rolled himself up into a ball. He'd stay right here, and come tomorrow the sun would take care of his problems. All he needed to do was stay put.
"Spike?" A soft voice penetrated the sobs that wracked the vampire's body. "Spike?"
"Buffy?" Spike groaned beneath his breath. Now her ghost was haunting him. As if his conscience wasn't giving him enough trouble, reminding him every second of what he had done.
"G'way," he growled without raising his head or moving.
"Surprised much?" Buffy's voice said, laughter resounding in it. "It's not that easy to get rid of me. You should know; you failed plenty of times."
Spike began to growl a second time. The sound died on his lips when something soft and warm caressed his cheek.
"Look at me, Spike."
Could ghosts make physical contact? He again forced one eye open and saw Buffy's grinning face hover over him. She was pale, but her green eyes were dancing.
"Are you real?" he whispered, not believing what his eyes told him.
"Yup," Buffy said. "Real, alive, and ready to kick some demon butt. Sorry to ruin your one good day, Spike. You won't carve that third notch yet." She helped him to his feet and he cupped her face in his hands. He needed to touch her, to feel her warmth to ascertain she was real.
"What happened?"
"You were right; the Council kidnapped us. Or more exactly, a Watcher by the name of Nigel." Buffy shrugged. "I once threw a sword at him, and he got pissed. Wanted to teach me a lesson. Giles says that when Travers finally found out what he was up to, he had us rescued just in time." She chortled. "Giles had a hard time convincing them to let you go."
Spike released her face and turned away. His shoulder slumped. 'Just in time.' Sometimes Buffy had a real knack for understatements. "He shouldn't have, " he said softly. "I almost bloody killed you. You trusted me, and I let you down."
"No," Buffy said. She took his arm and forced him back around so he faced her. "You didn't. The blood lust had grown too strong. I should have let you feed much sooner. I should have figured out what they were up to much sooner. Just," she winked before she let go of his elbow and started walking to the cemetery's exit, "remind me to feed you before I let you bite me again."
Spike blinked and his jaw dropped.
"You coming with?" Buffy called over her shoulder.
--END--
Disclaimer: this story is based on the Mutant Enemy/UPN/Twentieth Century Fox Television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.
Part 2
Two more days and nights passed without a change in their situation. Buffy fiercely hoped that Giles had done the smart thing and sent Dawn and her mother to Los Angeles, to Angel. She and Spike had tried everything they could think of, but except for the small panel that was used to get them their food, they hadn't managed to find a way into their cell, let alone out.
Strange noises in the middle of the night woke Buffy from a restless slumber and she blinked the sleep from her eyes. She pinpointed the source of the sounds to be the dark corner behind Spike's bunk. His bed was empty. Buffy squinted to peer through the gloom until she discovered him hunched in the darkness.
"Spike?" She threw back the covers and pattered barefoot to him. "Are you all right?"
His head shot up. "Stay away from me," he snarled. His fangs glinted in the weak light of the nightlamp and Buffy recoiled in shock. She wondered if he realized he had vamped out. She stood back to study him while he rocked back and forth on his heels, moaning.
"Hungry," he grunted. "Smells so good. Want it!" His arm shot out to make a grab for her The chip kicked in and he slammed his palm against his forehead. "Aargh!" Spike screamed in pain. "Bloody can't. Need to."
With a start Buffy realized that it had begun: Spike was in the grip of vampiric blood lust. The clipped half-sentences were about her -- for the first time in months she was in real danger from the vampire. Dragging her feet, Buffy returned to her bed and pulled the wooden stake from beneath her mattress. Thus armed, she approached the trembling vampire again.
"Spike, listen to me." She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. Spike flew up from his crouch, whirled around and before Buffy knew what happened he had her pinned down beneath him. His eyes flashed yellow and the demon smirked, baring the vampire's fangs. "So bloody hungry."
Okay, this was not going to be easy, Buffy thought. She tensed her muscles and flipped them over. The stake hovered over his heart, poised to plunge into chest.
"Spike! Listen to me!" she hissed, her face inches from his.
For a moment his eyes cleared and Spike looked out at her, his gaze depthless and full of pain and -- fear?
"Do it, Slayer," he pleaded. "Now. Please." His eyes shifted back to yellow again and he snarled like a mad dog. Cold shivers ran down Buffy's spine.
"Spike!" She raised her voice and smacked his face with an open hand. "I said, listen!" An idea had been gnawing at her consciousness ever since Spike reminded her how long it had been since he fed. And in the past few minutes, when she watched him suffer and struggle to keep her safe, willing even to sacrifice himself before harming her, Buffy made up her mind.
She slapped him a few more times until his eyes changed back to blue and the ridges faded, so she knew she was talking to Spike, not the demon. "Listen," Buffy repeated a third time. She was not sure how much time she would have. "You can control this."
Spike began to shake his head and opened his mouth.
"Shut up!" Buffy snapped. He stared up at her and she caught his gaze drifting from her face down to her neck where a vein pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
She shook her head and flipped her long hair over her shoulder, further baring her neck. "Spike, I don't want to have to kill you. I..." She hesitated. "You can drink from me."
His eyes widened in shock and snapped back up to meet her gaze. "No, Buffy--"
Again she silenced him. "You're still in charge, Spike," she continued. "You can stop before you drain me. Please. I..." Buffy hesitated. "I need you. Not for Glory or Dawn, but for me."
Her words shocked him so much that he grew still beneath her.
"You. Want me. To feed. On you," Spike repeated, the words coming out in staccato bursts.
"Yes," Buffy said, rolling off of him. "If your death makes them win, then that's how we beat them. We can win this, Spike."
He sat up and studied her for a moment. "What if I can't--"
She placed a finger against his lips. "Won't happen. Just concentrate. I trust you, Spike." Buffy squatted before him, tilting her head and brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her shoulder. "Do it. Before the blood lust consumes you."
Buffy closed her eyes and tried to subdue her fear. She couldn't let him see how frightened she was. Although she told Spike she trusted him, she recalled that Angel had nearly killed her when she let him drink. And Angel possessed a soul, plus the poison had weakened him. Spike's demon was in a rage, craving for blood, demanding to be satisfied. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Before she could voice any second thoughts, however, Spike's demon surged forward once more and his teeth sank deep into her skin.
* * *
Spike drank greedily, swallowing big gulps of the thick, warm blood. He had forgotten how delicious fresh human blood tasted; it had been so long. His demon rejoiced, demanding more and more of the red, spicy liquid. Slayer blood raced through his veins, filling him, driving away the pain and gnawing hunger.
"Spike... you have to... stop." Buffy struggled weakly beneath him but her plea barely registered. The vampire was too busy sating his appetite.
More! his demon demanded, and Spike sucked mouthfuls of the red stuff from Buffy. He swallowed; blood trickled down his chin to drip on her collarbone. More! He never noticed her losing consciousness. He didn't react when the door flew open and crashed against the far wall with a loud 'bang!'; the sweet yet spicy taste in his mouth and the warm thickness on his tongue were his entire universe.
Strong hands grabbed Spike's arms and shoulders and dragged him away from Buffy. The moment his fangs tore free from her neck, realization sank in. Bloody hell! What had he done?
Crouched in a corner, Spike could only stare at Buffy's pale, limp body as capable hands lifted her on to a stretcher and took her away. The door closed behind them and Spike was left alone.
He had killed her. He had killed Buffy. The one woman he truly loved. "NOOO!" he screamed at the white ceiling and a string of curses left his lips. It didn't make him feel any better.
Hours passed while a single litany went on in Spike's head, like a broken record. Buffy. Was. Dead. Buffy. Was. Dead. And he was her killer.
How could he ever live with himself?
His gaze fell on the stake that had rolled beneath one of the bunks. Eyes narrowing, he reached for it. He had a choice; he didn't have to live with the knowledge that he killed his third Slayer. Buffy's Mr. Pointy would see to it. Spike found it grimly satisfactory. He had killed Buffy. Now her stake would dust him, even if he had drive it through his undead heart himself.
He turned the wooden object in his hand until the sharp end pointed at his chest.
Sudden pain hit him, lashed through his body, and he screamed. Then all went black.
* * *
The smell of grass.
It was the first thing Spike recognized as he struggled to regain consciousness. He opened one eye and squinted at the thin, green stalks that tickled his nose. For a long moment, he couldn't recall where he was, or what happened. Had he been drinking, and passed out in the graveyard near his crypt?
Then it hit, like a blow to the head. Buffy was gone. He killed her. And then he found the stake--
Spike moaned and dropped his head again. Bloody wanker. He could kill Buffy but was too much of a pansy to kill himself. They must have released him from the cell after they knocked him out. He recognized the nearest headstone and knew he was back in his home cemetery.
He didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Buffy was gone.
The dirt beneath him was still warm; the sun couldn't be down for very long. Spike let out a soft snort and rolled himself up into a ball. He'd stay right here, and come tomorrow the sun would take care of his problems. All he needed to do was stay put.
"Spike?" A soft voice penetrated the sobs that wracked the vampire's body. "Spike?"
"Buffy?" Spike groaned beneath his breath. Now her ghost was haunting him. As if his conscience wasn't giving him enough trouble, reminding him every second of what he had done.
"G'way," he growled without raising his head or moving.
"Surprised much?" Buffy's voice said, laughter resounding in it. "It's not that easy to get rid of me. You should know; you failed plenty of times."
Spike began to growl a second time. The sound died on his lips when something soft and warm caressed his cheek.
"Look at me, Spike."
Could ghosts make physical contact? He again forced one eye open and saw Buffy's grinning face hover over him. She was pale, but her green eyes were dancing.
"Are you real?" he whispered, not believing what his eyes told him.
"Yup," Buffy said. "Real, alive, and ready to kick some demon butt. Sorry to ruin your one good day, Spike. You won't carve that third notch yet." She helped him to his feet and he cupped her face in his hands. He needed to touch her, to feel her warmth to ascertain she was real.
"What happened?"
"You were right; the Council kidnapped us. Or more exactly, a Watcher by the name of Nigel." Buffy shrugged. "I once threw a sword at him, and he got pissed. Wanted to teach me a lesson. Giles says that when Travers finally found out what he was up to, he had us rescued just in time." She chortled. "Giles had a hard time convincing them to let you go."
Spike released her face and turned away. His shoulder slumped. 'Just in time.' Sometimes Buffy had a real knack for understatements. "He shouldn't have, " he said softly. "I almost bloody killed you. You trusted me, and I let you down."
"No," Buffy said. She took his arm and forced him back around so he faced her. "You didn't. The blood lust had grown too strong. I should have let you feed much sooner. I should have figured out what they were up to much sooner. Just," she winked before she let go of his elbow and started walking to the cemetery's exit, "remind me to feed you before I let you bite me again."
Spike blinked and his jaw dropped.
"You coming with?" Buffy called over her shoulder.
--END--
Disclaimer: this story is based on the Mutant Enemy/UPN/Twentieth Century Fox Television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All characters belong to their original creators. The story was written for entertainment only and no copyright infringement was intended.