Title: A Passing Shadow: Book II: Trick of the Light: Chapter 4
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters
Damn shame 'bout the duster. Feel half starkers walkin' 'round without it. But if it had to go, it's best that it went with Drusilla. Like sheddin' my skin, or some such bollocks--out with the old, in with the new. A snake's still a snake though, in'nit?
I was on my way to Slayer's house, missin' my coat an' how it always made me seem a larger bloke than I am--sorta filled me out, you know? An' the wind was whippin' 'round like it fancied tearin' up the very trees--a weird night, an' I've seen some in my time.
She was waitin' for me at the end of Revello, dressed for kickin' arse.
"No trainin' tonight, Slayer? Thought you might fancy a go."
"Not tonight. I'm getting an early start on patrol. Something's up, can't you feel it?"
"Yeah, somethin's a might kinky."
"You look like you could use some time off anyway, Bruise Boy."
She'd been usin' me for a punchin' bag nearly every night for two weeks at that point, all pent up an' tense from waitin' on the first assault. Not knowin' which direction it'd be comin' from, or what to expect. I had bruises that never healed an' a split lip or a black eye all the bloody time. Fond recollections.
"So. I should probably get going." I knew what she was after, but I wasn't about to make it easy for her. Where's the fun in that?
"Right then."
"You, um... you wouldn't want to patrol with me, would you?"
I didn't answer, just nodded, an' we started toward the cemetery.
"Are you up for it? I mean, your eyes--"
"My vision's nearly a hundred percent, Slayer, which I believe I told you last time you inquired."
"OK, fine. Just don't get in my way." She was baiting me, but I was busy with other things--like how with every step we took nearer the bone-yard, my instincts screamed a bit louder to turn tail an' run. Somethin' was waitin' on us, an' my demon wanted no part of it, whatever the fuck it was.
We stopped at the gate an' she looked at me. She felt it too.
"Stay close, Spike, and don't go all heroic on me. Just watch my back, OK?"
Bossy bitch, inn't she? I kept my gob shut, though, an' followed her through the gates. The stench hit us within a few yards--a truly foul odor like I've never known, an' I lived in a bleedin' crypt, for pity's sake. The breeze picked up again, lashin' the trees about an' blowin' the smell away, but whatever was there was stayin' put.
We stood back to back an' waited for it to make it's move. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught somethin' dark gliding low to the ground. It didn't seem quite solid, an' it fairly pulsed with a bad vibe. Made a vampire's skin crawl, so you know it was all about evil--the real thing, the thing that makes that hell-bitch Glory look small town, an' makes the likes of yours truly look like a soddin' Sunday School teacher.
"Incoming, Slayer--you see it?"
"Yeah, I got it...what the hell is that?"
"Don't know--stinks like a mother, though, don't it?"
"Where'd it go?"
"Have a care, Slayer, on your left--"
She leveled a kick at it, but she was a fraction too slow. Then it was above us, hoverin' like the original black cloud. 'Cept right then I could see somethin' that looked to be eyes an' maybe a mouth...
"Spike!"
"Wha--what..."
It was smilin' at me. It had fangs rather like mine, but not nearly as pretty. A snout like a pig, an' scraggly hair hangin' all in it's face, an' its eyes were just filled to the bloody brim with wicked intent...an' maggots.
Did I ever mention how I hate maggots? No? Lemme tell you, luv, it's a right huge phobia of mine. Don't laugh. That demon bint of Xander's goes off like a teakettle at the sight of a rabbit--but maggots? Now there's a destructive force that's been altogether underestimated, to my way of thinkin'.
"Spike! What is it? What're you staring at?"
It was movin' in fast, comin' right up in my face, an' I was frozen to the spot.
"Spike! Look at me!" Then she swung, her right fist connectin' hard with my left temple, an' I was down for the count.
When I came to, it was with my head in her lap. You'd think I'd take half a mo' to enjoy it, but my pride was bent in two.
"Just lie still, Spike. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No! Just restin' is all. Lemme up, Slayer."
"What did you see? I mean, there wasn't anything there, but then you went all Statue Vamp--"
"Tricks."
"Huh?"
"They're makin' with the smoke an' mirrors. An' I fell for it...'though how in bloody hell they knew about the maggots--"
"OK, I'm again with the HUH?"
"It was nothin', Slayer, just the Black Hats crawlin' 'round in my head lookin' to give me a fright. Cor, if THAT'S the best they can do--"
An' then the stench was back, twice as strong as before, an' all of a sudden there was a great lot of those low dark shapes flittin' just beyond the reach of the light from the street. I fancied it a good time to make a strategic retreat.
I grabbed her arm an' dragged her back towards the gate. She fought me, more out of habit than a real desire to hang about, I think.
"What the hell, Spike?! I have to go back in there and--"
"Lower your voice, Slayer!" We were on the street by then, but things weren't looking any too reassurin'. There was a smokey taste in the air, an' I got the distinct impression we weren't alone.
"Screw that! I came out here tonight to face this--I'm tired of waiting for it to come after me. This is it, Spike."
"No, Slayer, this is bloody well NOT IT.We're overmatched an' we haven't a clue what we're dealin' with here. I won't let you--"
"You won't LET me? Since when does the Slayer take orders from Evil Dead? I'm going back in there, and if you try to stop me--"
"FINE! Go, then! But go alone, 'cause some poor sod's got to be here to explain to Dawn how her big sis loved her so much she couldn't wait to run off an' get herself killed--AGAIN!"
Yeah, I know. But it stopped her, didn't it?
"I hate you."
"Good on ya, luv. It's mutual."
We were toe to toe on the sidewalk, an' she was spittin' fire, but then the wind shifted again. The air turned rank, an' there were shadows where there ought not to have been, an' too many of 'em. An' Slayer's brain finally caught up with her gob.
We took off runnin' towards the shop as if Ol' Nick himself was right behind--an' for all I know, he might've been. Once inside, we bolted her up tight an' settled in for a siege.
Never came. Reckon one of Will's protection spells kicked in an' kept whatever it was at bay. Slayer called home to let the witches know they'd need to spend the night with Niblet, an' then it was just us.
We retired to my lair--a.k.a. the back room--an' chewed on stale popcorn an' watched a bit of telly. When she started yawnin' an' stretchin', I did the gentlemanly thing an' offered her my sofa, which was the largest an' softest of the lot.
"Thanks. Um...I didn't mean what I said before. About, you know, hating you."
"No?"
"No. But you aren't exactly Mr. Easy to Get Along With, either."
"Part an' parcel of my irresistible charm, pet."
"Yeah. Well. Um..."
"Spit it out, Slayer."
"I know you said your eyes were almost all better."
"That they are."
"And that's great. Really great. But I was just wondering, you know, if the other thing...the other problem...is fixed yet."
She looked so hopeful. Like maybe bumpin' tummies with me was the answer to all her troubles. Yet another boatload of manly responsibility she laid at my feet, only this time I wasn't up to the task.
Don't misunderstand--I could've shagged her senseless an' made all her problems melt away for a little bit. But I'm not anyone's salvation, an' when the bloom wore off we'd be back at square one, only with her hatin' me for lettin' her down.
An' to be honest, I didn't fancy bein' just a solution to a problem for her. Maybe before--before she went away an' came back again--I would've jumped at the chance. But things were different. I was wrong when I told Peaches that demons don't change. I'm a bloody walkin' advert for demonic transformation these days, much as I hate to cop to it.
"Er...Slayer..."
"Oh."
She looked right done in by disappointment, an' it took it outta me to deny her the miracle that is me in the sack, but I had to do it, you know?
"Yeah, it...er..."
"It still doesn't...I mean, you can't..."
"Right."
"I'm sorry, Spike. That really sucks."
"You've no idea, luv."
"Well, maybe we could just...you know...cuddle?"
I closed my eyes an' took one of those deep un-needed breaths I'm apparently known for, an' when I opened 'em again, she'd turned away.
"Slayer..."
"No, it's OK. It's not fair, me using you as a teddy bear. Forget it."
"Buffy--"
She turned back an' gave me a real winner of a smile. Cor, she's a pretty thing, inn't she? An' right then, my resolve was none too firm--unlike another part I could name.
She bunked down on the sofa an' I took a spot on the floor under a blanket. I listened to her breathin' get slow an' deep, an' then I unzipped myself--just to relieve a bit of the pressure, you understand. An' then I lay there, starin' at the ceilin' 'til I could taste the sunrise comin', an' at some point I slept, an' then I dreamt.
Feedin', fightin' an' fuckin'--that's pretty much the extent of my vocabulary when it comes to dreams. An' of late, it's been a rare one that hasn't begun or ended--or both--with me balls deep in the Slayer's quim. But this one was different.
I knew this 'cause whilst foreplay's a right lovely little ritual when you're shaggin' in the flesh, it's not a necessity when it's just you an' your subconscious havin' a wank, so I generally skip it altogether an' go straight for the good bits. This time, though, Slayer was still fully dressed when the pictures in my brain started up, an' we were actually having a conversation.
She was tellin' me she wanted me, an' needed me, an' I know what you're thinkin'--pathetic tosser's finally lost it. An' I would agree, except considerin' the way it's turned out...
It wasn't long before we were out of our clothes an' things were progressin' at a right nice pace. I had her under me an' I was inside her, makin' her squirm, an' moan, an' whisper my name, an' I was talkin' to her, telling her things I'd never had the stones to say to her face.
"Buffy...feelin' you...feelin' you beneath me...surroundin' me...your scent..."
But there was somethin' off about that--I'd heard it before, or somethin' very like it, but I couldn't place it. An' then that bloody tune started up again, louder than before, an' the faster an' harder I fucked her, the louder it played 'til I was right on the edge, an ' I opened my eyes to look at her an'--
She wasn't Buffy anymore. She was a corpse, an' not a fresh one, either.
Yeah, I know, I did Dru for a century-plus an' she was as dead as they come--no pun intended--but it's not the same as lookin' down into rotted out eyes an' a gapin' maw...an' maggots...again with the soddin' maggots...
Enough to put a bloke off shaggin' for good an' all.
I must've made some awful sound before I woke, 'cause she was there, bendin' over me, her face the very portrait of concern. That is, until she noticed the rather prominent tent I'd pitched beneath the blanket. Apparently, not even a spot of necrophilia most foul is enough to discourage my knob.
"You lied to me? Why would you do that, Spike?"
"Slayer, I--"
"You know, you could've just told me. You could've just said 'look Buffy, I'm not interested'."
"But--"
"I trusted you, you know? Of all the people around me, I trusted you to tell me the truth."
"Buffy--"
She gave me a last look that screamed 'kicked puppy' an' then she was out of the room an' the shop an' into the bright sunshine before I could stop her.
I said it then, an' I'll say it now.
Bugger.
tbc
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters
Damn shame 'bout the duster. Feel half starkers walkin' 'round without it. But if it had to go, it's best that it went with Drusilla. Like sheddin' my skin, or some such bollocks--out with the old, in with the new. A snake's still a snake though, in'nit?
I was on my way to Slayer's house, missin' my coat an' how it always made me seem a larger bloke than I am--sorta filled me out, you know? An' the wind was whippin' 'round like it fancied tearin' up the very trees--a weird night, an' I've seen some in my time.
She was waitin' for me at the end of Revello, dressed for kickin' arse.
"No trainin' tonight, Slayer? Thought you might fancy a go."
"Not tonight. I'm getting an early start on patrol. Something's up, can't you feel it?"
"Yeah, somethin's a might kinky."
"You look like you could use some time off anyway, Bruise Boy."
She'd been usin' me for a punchin' bag nearly every night for two weeks at that point, all pent up an' tense from waitin' on the first assault. Not knowin' which direction it'd be comin' from, or what to expect. I had bruises that never healed an' a split lip or a black eye all the bloody time. Fond recollections.
"So. I should probably get going." I knew what she was after, but I wasn't about to make it easy for her. Where's the fun in that?
"Right then."
"You, um... you wouldn't want to patrol with me, would you?"
I didn't answer, just nodded, an' we started toward the cemetery.
"Are you up for it? I mean, your eyes--"
"My vision's nearly a hundred percent, Slayer, which I believe I told you last time you inquired."
"OK, fine. Just don't get in my way." She was baiting me, but I was busy with other things--like how with every step we took nearer the bone-yard, my instincts screamed a bit louder to turn tail an' run. Somethin' was waitin' on us, an' my demon wanted no part of it, whatever the fuck it was.
We stopped at the gate an' she looked at me. She felt it too.
"Stay close, Spike, and don't go all heroic on me. Just watch my back, OK?"
Bossy bitch, inn't she? I kept my gob shut, though, an' followed her through the gates. The stench hit us within a few yards--a truly foul odor like I've never known, an' I lived in a bleedin' crypt, for pity's sake. The breeze picked up again, lashin' the trees about an' blowin' the smell away, but whatever was there was stayin' put.
We stood back to back an' waited for it to make it's move. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught somethin' dark gliding low to the ground. It didn't seem quite solid, an' it fairly pulsed with a bad vibe. Made a vampire's skin crawl, so you know it was all about evil--the real thing, the thing that makes that hell-bitch Glory look small town, an' makes the likes of yours truly look like a soddin' Sunday School teacher.
"Incoming, Slayer--you see it?"
"Yeah, I got it...what the hell is that?"
"Don't know--stinks like a mother, though, don't it?"
"Where'd it go?"
"Have a care, Slayer, on your left--"
She leveled a kick at it, but she was a fraction too slow. Then it was above us, hoverin' like the original black cloud. 'Cept right then I could see somethin' that looked to be eyes an' maybe a mouth...
"Spike!"
"Wha--what..."
It was smilin' at me. It had fangs rather like mine, but not nearly as pretty. A snout like a pig, an' scraggly hair hangin' all in it's face, an' its eyes were just filled to the bloody brim with wicked intent...an' maggots.
Did I ever mention how I hate maggots? No? Lemme tell you, luv, it's a right huge phobia of mine. Don't laugh. That demon bint of Xander's goes off like a teakettle at the sight of a rabbit--but maggots? Now there's a destructive force that's been altogether underestimated, to my way of thinkin'.
"Spike! What is it? What're you staring at?"
It was movin' in fast, comin' right up in my face, an' I was frozen to the spot.
"Spike! Look at me!" Then she swung, her right fist connectin' hard with my left temple, an' I was down for the count.
When I came to, it was with my head in her lap. You'd think I'd take half a mo' to enjoy it, but my pride was bent in two.
"Just lie still, Spike. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No! Just restin' is all. Lemme up, Slayer."
"What did you see? I mean, there wasn't anything there, but then you went all Statue Vamp--"
"Tricks."
"Huh?"
"They're makin' with the smoke an' mirrors. An' I fell for it...'though how in bloody hell they knew about the maggots--"
"OK, I'm again with the HUH?"
"It was nothin', Slayer, just the Black Hats crawlin' 'round in my head lookin' to give me a fright. Cor, if THAT'S the best they can do--"
An' then the stench was back, twice as strong as before, an' all of a sudden there was a great lot of those low dark shapes flittin' just beyond the reach of the light from the street. I fancied it a good time to make a strategic retreat.
I grabbed her arm an' dragged her back towards the gate. She fought me, more out of habit than a real desire to hang about, I think.
"What the hell, Spike?! I have to go back in there and--"
"Lower your voice, Slayer!" We were on the street by then, but things weren't looking any too reassurin'. There was a smokey taste in the air, an' I got the distinct impression we weren't alone.
"Screw that! I came out here tonight to face this--I'm tired of waiting for it to come after me. This is it, Spike."
"No, Slayer, this is bloody well NOT IT.We're overmatched an' we haven't a clue what we're dealin' with here. I won't let you--"
"You won't LET me? Since when does the Slayer take orders from Evil Dead? I'm going back in there, and if you try to stop me--"
"FINE! Go, then! But go alone, 'cause some poor sod's got to be here to explain to Dawn how her big sis loved her so much she couldn't wait to run off an' get herself killed--AGAIN!"
Yeah, I know. But it stopped her, didn't it?
"I hate you."
"Good on ya, luv. It's mutual."
We were toe to toe on the sidewalk, an' she was spittin' fire, but then the wind shifted again. The air turned rank, an' there were shadows where there ought not to have been, an' too many of 'em. An' Slayer's brain finally caught up with her gob.
We took off runnin' towards the shop as if Ol' Nick himself was right behind--an' for all I know, he might've been. Once inside, we bolted her up tight an' settled in for a siege.
Never came. Reckon one of Will's protection spells kicked in an' kept whatever it was at bay. Slayer called home to let the witches know they'd need to spend the night with Niblet, an' then it was just us.
We retired to my lair--a.k.a. the back room--an' chewed on stale popcorn an' watched a bit of telly. When she started yawnin' an' stretchin', I did the gentlemanly thing an' offered her my sofa, which was the largest an' softest of the lot.
"Thanks. Um...I didn't mean what I said before. About, you know, hating you."
"No?"
"No. But you aren't exactly Mr. Easy to Get Along With, either."
"Part an' parcel of my irresistible charm, pet."
"Yeah. Well. Um..."
"Spit it out, Slayer."
"I know you said your eyes were almost all better."
"That they are."
"And that's great. Really great. But I was just wondering, you know, if the other thing...the other problem...is fixed yet."
She looked so hopeful. Like maybe bumpin' tummies with me was the answer to all her troubles. Yet another boatload of manly responsibility she laid at my feet, only this time I wasn't up to the task.
Don't misunderstand--I could've shagged her senseless an' made all her problems melt away for a little bit. But I'm not anyone's salvation, an' when the bloom wore off we'd be back at square one, only with her hatin' me for lettin' her down.
An' to be honest, I didn't fancy bein' just a solution to a problem for her. Maybe before--before she went away an' came back again--I would've jumped at the chance. But things were different. I was wrong when I told Peaches that demons don't change. I'm a bloody walkin' advert for demonic transformation these days, much as I hate to cop to it.
"Er...Slayer..."
"Oh."
She looked right done in by disappointment, an' it took it outta me to deny her the miracle that is me in the sack, but I had to do it, you know?
"Yeah, it...er..."
"It still doesn't...I mean, you can't..."
"Right."
"I'm sorry, Spike. That really sucks."
"You've no idea, luv."
"Well, maybe we could just...you know...cuddle?"
I closed my eyes an' took one of those deep un-needed breaths I'm apparently known for, an' when I opened 'em again, she'd turned away.
"Slayer..."
"No, it's OK. It's not fair, me using you as a teddy bear. Forget it."
"Buffy--"
She turned back an' gave me a real winner of a smile. Cor, she's a pretty thing, inn't she? An' right then, my resolve was none too firm--unlike another part I could name.
She bunked down on the sofa an' I took a spot on the floor under a blanket. I listened to her breathin' get slow an' deep, an' then I unzipped myself--just to relieve a bit of the pressure, you understand. An' then I lay there, starin' at the ceilin' 'til I could taste the sunrise comin', an' at some point I slept, an' then I dreamt.
Feedin', fightin' an' fuckin'--that's pretty much the extent of my vocabulary when it comes to dreams. An' of late, it's been a rare one that hasn't begun or ended--or both--with me balls deep in the Slayer's quim. But this one was different.
I knew this 'cause whilst foreplay's a right lovely little ritual when you're shaggin' in the flesh, it's not a necessity when it's just you an' your subconscious havin' a wank, so I generally skip it altogether an' go straight for the good bits. This time, though, Slayer was still fully dressed when the pictures in my brain started up, an' we were actually having a conversation.
She was tellin' me she wanted me, an' needed me, an' I know what you're thinkin'--pathetic tosser's finally lost it. An' I would agree, except considerin' the way it's turned out...
It wasn't long before we were out of our clothes an' things were progressin' at a right nice pace. I had her under me an' I was inside her, makin' her squirm, an' moan, an' whisper my name, an' I was talkin' to her, telling her things I'd never had the stones to say to her face.
"Buffy...feelin' you...feelin' you beneath me...surroundin' me...your scent..."
But there was somethin' off about that--I'd heard it before, or somethin' very like it, but I couldn't place it. An' then that bloody tune started up again, louder than before, an' the faster an' harder I fucked her, the louder it played 'til I was right on the edge, an ' I opened my eyes to look at her an'--
She wasn't Buffy anymore. She was a corpse, an' not a fresh one, either.
Yeah, I know, I did Dru for a century-plus an' she was as dead as they come--no pun intended--but it's not the same as lookin' down into rotted out eyes an' a gapin' maw...an' maggots...again with the soddin' maggots...
Enough to put a bloke off shaggin' for good an' all.
I must've made some awful sound before I woke, 'cause she was there, bendin' over me, her face the very portrait of concern. That is, until she noticed the rather prominent tent I'd pitched beneath the blanket. Apparently, not even a spot of necrophilia most foul is enough to discourage my knob.
"You lied to me? Why would you do that, Spike?"
"Slayer, I--"
"You know, you could've just told me. You could've just said 'look Buffy, I'm not interested'."
"But--"
"I trusted you, you know? Of all the people around me, I trusted you to tell me the truth."
"Buffy--"
She gave me a last look that screamed 'kicked puppy' an' then she was out of the room an' the shop an' into the bright sunshine before I could stop her.
I said it then, an' I'll say it now.
Bugger.
tbc