Title: A Demon's Deal - 3
Summary: Spike comes back wrong, told from Buffy's POV
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon
The RealizationWe didn't find Willy. But we did find Spike.
Willy's post behind the bar was abandoned and I found myself wondering if it was his survivor instincts at work. They say that animals can sense an earthquake, and I was guessing that Willy's senses were probably higher than your average rodent. He could smell trouble, and Spike was now just that. Willy had probably scurried off to find a dark hole or abandoned sewer to hide in, until the disaster walking around as Spike blew over. Rats have good instincts like that.
What struck me, as more odd, was that there were only a dozen or so demons in the bar. While a few looked to be enjoying the entertainment Spike was providing, more had a sickly look on their face, eyeing the door to see at what point they could make their escape.
Spike was at the far end of the room, his back to us. There were two more demons standing near him, and it took me a moment to place them. They were Chaos demons, the all-slime-and-antlers type. But these two had no slime, had no antlers. Peering into the gloom, I saw that the huge prongs had been broken from their heads then sharpened to razor fine points. While the older, large demon was tied to the wall, a smaller version was about ten feet away. Spike was leaning over the small one, arm around his shoulders, giving instructions.
"Now listen hear. This is your third and final chance. I want you to go for the eye. Miss again and we untie your Pop and you take his place on the wall. And I won't be none too happy about it. Probably tear an eye out of you instead."
I noticed that two of the antler-prongs were stuck in the wall near the older one's face. He smiled a shaky encouragement at the his son who was trembling so badly I was surprised he was still standing, much less throwing anything. I realized the reason for the dwindling bad guy population. Spike. They were probably leaving in droves. Or they were dying.
It was at that moment he sensed me, and turning around, welcomed me with a huge smile.
"Slayer! So nice of you to drop in and join our fun."
"I like to make my own fun," I said, pulling a stake from my jacket pocket and twirling it in front of me.
Using my arrival as an excuse, some of the more nervous demons in the bar got up and hurried out the door, until about half a dozen remained. The few left, stood and moved to form a circle around Spike and I was shocked to see that Clem was one of them. He looked at me with sad eyes before glancing guiltily towards the floor. Spike didn't seem to notice.
Unfortunately, Xander wasn't noticing much, either. He didn't see that Spike's congeniality was only a mask for the anger. He didn't feel the barely restrained violence emanating from him. He also didn't realize that we were hopelessly outnumbered. But then, Xander has never been the sharpest knife in the drawer.
Hurling himself towards the vampire, he found himself instantly spun around and held by one of Spike's minions. The scaly left arm of the demon looped itself around his throat, while the claws of the right hand hovered over his face. My brave protector had quickly become a hostage.
Sliding up to face Xander who was struggling in vain within the demon's grip, Spike sneered at him.
"Still playing the knight errant, I see. So tell me, how is your lovely Anyanka doing? Does she still do that twitchy thing with her hips when you're riding her hard? 'Cause that was real nice"
Xander got it then. Silently he stared at Spike, before turning to look at me in accusation. He could tell that something about Spike was different and, by the look on my face, he also figured out that I had known about it.
Looking around the room, I figured I could probably take three, maybe four of the demons but seeing as there were five, it might be a problem. My math didn't even add Spike into the calculations. Well, math was never my best subject anyway. My hand tightened around my stake. If I were going to go out, at least I would go out fighting.
Spike smiled and shook his head at me slowly.
"Make a move, Slayer, and the first thing you'll see is the whelp's face come off."
That stopped me cold. I had talked Xander into helping me, and I hadn't exactly been truthful with him about what he was getting into. Now his life was on the line because of me. Besides, he had a nice face and I kinda liked it where it was.
"Come on, Summers, hand over the weapon nice and easy and no one will get hurt." Grinning he added, "At least no one will get hurt right away. A few minutes from now, who knows?"
I had no choice. Slowly I walked towards him, my stake at the ready. I stopped within a foot of him. The demons were holding their breath, watching to see if I would try to suddenly thrust it into him. In comparison, Spike was completely relaxed, nonchalant, enjoying this. He knew how much of a hold his threat to Xander had on me.
At the last moment I flipped my stake and offered it to Spike, blunt end first and he accepted it with the grace of a member of the royal family accepting flowers from a crowd. And it meant about as much too, quickly tossed behind him onto the floor.
"So, now what?"
I tried to act tough, but for the first time in a long while I was facing an enemy that caused me to quake in my stylish yet affordable boots.
Spike lifted a finger and slowly, gently, traced the outline of my face. Xander did the outraged struggling thing and I did the proud tilt of my chin thing. But all three of us knew that Spike was now firmly in control.
"You really care for Harris, don't you? Needn't worry about his face. He's going to keep it for a bit longer. Want to make sure he watches this and watches it carefully, like. Going to burn an image into his brain."
"What are you going to do to me?"
I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice but it snuck in a bit, despite my efforts to squash it. I knew Spike heard it though, from his gleeful expression.
"Not what I'm going to do to you, luv. It's what you're going to do to me. While the whelp watches. Not anything you haven't done before."
My eyes flew to Xander's face. The color in it had drained and he looked like he was going to be ill. Chuckling, Spike continued.
"My, you do have a naughty mind, don't you? Didn't mean that. Though it might be nice. Just want a kiss from you. A real kiss, mind you. The kind you used to give me as we rolled across my crypt floor. The kind that felt like you were trying to eat me alive."
Hesitantly I moved closer to him and raised my hands to his face. Closing my eyes made it easier, I could block out his expression, block out his burning gaze. Instead I concentrated on touch. He still felt the same. His skin still felt soft and smooth. I moved my hands down to his shoulders. Those same hard, muscular shoulders that I had grasped like a lifeline as he rocked into me and made me feel as if I were drowning in sensation. I leaned forward and let my lips touch his.
He tasted the same, of cigarettes and spice and a hint of toothpaste because even undead creatures of the night paid attention to good oral hygiene. He didn't smell the same, though. This new Spike smelled of storms and crushed leaves. My Spike had always smelled of leather and smoky warmth.
Those feelings, all those damn feelings came back as we kissed. The feelings I had fought so hard against in the past, telling myself that he was an evil fiend, that he was a creature, not a human being. I now knew the truth. Spike hadn't been an evil fiend for some time, but the man I was kissing now was.
The kiss lasted for several minutes. When we broke apart all of the demons, except for Clem laughed and whistled in appreciation at seeing the Slayer become someone's toy. Spike leered at me, and I felt like I had been rolling in the dirt. Xander looked as if someone had reached into his chest and torn out his heart. Since it was a distinct possibility that someone might do exactly that within the next few minutes, I said nothing.
Spike was smug. With a single kiss, he had managed to become a god to his followers.
"That was pretty good, Slayer. I have to tell you, though, I've changed my mind about things in the last few months."
"You still have a mind to change? Thought you had totally lost it"
"Cute. Told you once that I'd found the one thing better than killing a slayer. Not true anymore. There's nothing better than killing a slayer. Except maybe turning one."
As I watched, he came closer, looming over me. He held my arms tightly as he shifted into game face but then, almost as suddenly, his grip loosened. He backed away, still with the fangs and glowing yellow eyes.
"Buffy", he gasped. "Get out of here! Now! Go!"
I stumbled back, not sure what was happening, and then Clem came to my rescue. Grabbing my arm, he punched the demon holding Xander in the face, and pulled us backwards through the door. Glancing behind me as we fled, I saw Spike. Still in game face, his eyes flickering from yellow to blue, he was doubled over in agony.
After that the three of us raced through the streets as if the hounds of hell were at our heels. And I should know. I've fought hellhounds. It was only as we stood gasping for breath in my hallway, Dawn flitting around us in concern, that my mind started to wrap itself around what had happened. I hauled Clem up and held him against the wall, using his saggy skin as handholds.
"Tell me", I yelled at him. "Is it true? It is, isn't it? That's why you were there with that monster."
Clem looked at me and nodded, confirming what I was just now starting to suspect. Xander only looked confused.
"What? What does he know?" Xander asked.
I was still trying to absorb the knowledge myself and I fought to keep from shaking in reaction.
"Spike. Our Spike. My Spike. He's still around. He was the one that saved us."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next morning Xander and I ventured over to the Magic Box. The night before we had gone to bed with our minds too full to think about anything rationally. I put Xander in the master bedroom. It still smelled of Willow's herbs and, I imagined, of Tara's blood, no matter how many times we cleaned it. For Clem, I set up a cot in the basement. He told us that he didn't want to be any trouble, but I knew if he wandered out into the night he might never wander back in. The new Spike didn't seem to be the forgive and forget type of guy.
Xander hesitated as we reached the store. Anya was inside. I knew they still loved each other and the whole situation made me want to knock their heads together. But, because I figured achy heads don't usually resolve love problems, I restrained myself.
Inside we tried to explain the situation to Anya, but she didn't seem to want to believe us. As we stood talking I heard noises coming from the basement storage room, the basement storage room that led to the sewers.
"Anya, is anyone else here with you today?" I asked.
"No." she replied, puzzled, until she heard it too.
It was getting louder, closer, coming up the steps towards us. We all looked at each other in alarm, before Xander grabbed Anya's hand and we ran for the exit. As we ran into the bright, sunshine filled street, the basement door flew open and Spike emerged from the shadows followed by his demon minions. Standing on the sidewalk we watched through the store's windows as the shop was completely and systematically destroyed. Again. Black Magic Willow could've taken lessons from Spike. We didn't stay too close, as, periodically, things would hurl through the air at us and we would have to dodge the shattering glass. Tears quietly streamed down Anya's face as she watched her beloved store murdered, bleeding potions and elixirs out of the door to run into the gutters.
That night we had another addition to our little refugee family.
I finally got on the phone and talked to Angel. I didn't have much of a choice, since he was the only other souled vampire that existed and I needed some information. He told me that the soul and demon were constantly in battle, struggling for dominance. The soul however was the strongest of the pair, which was how he was able to keep his demon in check. However, when feeding, when going into game face and letting the fangs descend, the demon takes control.
When he had shifted into the vamp, Spike, the Spike that loved me, had taken control and saved me. I had been lucky that he'd tried to bite me instead of just breaking my neck. Thank God for small miracles.
I was tired of cowering while he swaggered about. I was going to fight him. I was the Chosen One, the Slayer and in the end he was just another vampire. It was time to hunt him down and kill him. And if he killed me instead? Well, that was the fate of all slayers. I would take the fight to him.
Too bad he brought the fight to me first.