Green Eyed Slayer
Chapter Four: Gwen

"And the entire night, she never said more than three words to me!" he rants, pacing in front of the bed I'm sitting on.

"And those three words were?" I ask.

"Duck, c'mon and bye."

"As apposed to I, hate and you?"

He stops and looks at me. Then that fantastic slow smile spreads over his face and he plops down on the end of the bed. Oh yeah, gorgeous view of that bloody great back. All rippled muscles under unmarked pale skin. I practically drool when the guy stretches and shows off those arms that are all hard muscles under more of that cool, smooth, delectable, beautiful, tight - ok, yeah, I'm going off on one. Anyway, he looks round at me and shakes his head, grinning.

"Good thing you're around," he says. "Else I might actually think my life's awful."

"Things can always be worse."

"Mmmm," he murmurs. "What d'ya wanna do t'night then?"

"Well, there's any number of things we could do. I mean, think about it, Spikey boy: you, me, bed. And I'm guessing you've got any number of naughty little toys hidden hereabouts."

"You been snooping?" he asks, then laughs. "Love to, Gwen, can't. Got this whole my heart only beats for one woman kinda thing."

"Your heart doesn't beat to begin with."

"It's a metaphor, pet."

"Ooo, get you!" I'm quiet for a minute, then I say. "We could just hang around here."

"And talk?"

"Aye, if you want."

"So, what d'ya want to talk 'bout, love?"

I open my mouth to answer, but that's when I hear it. The crypt door creaks open in the upper level and tentative steps sound above us. He hears it a split second after I do, probably 'cause I was listening out for it, and smiles when he realises it's Buffy. I don't give it a chance to sink in. I've never really been known to hold back and think before I act, so I lean forward, pull him back, and plant a smacker on those gorgeous lips of his.

Drusilla sat in front of me, tugging her fingers through her doll's hair. I felt quite charitable towards her that afternoon, so I helped her dress the doll in it's numerous outfits. For once, I actually didn't hate her, for once I felt truly sorry for her. I knew if Angelus knew I thought that, he'd belt the life outta me 'cause I weren't s'posed to feel sorry for my elders, 'specially not when I were the youngest. But I did pity her at times, to begin with anyway. She spent her time spouting rubbish 'bout what the moon told her, or playing with her dolls while she pined for her daddy. My sister Rose was more grown up with her. And it weren't even her fault. That's why I hated Angelus, liked to play, he did. He played with me, enjoyed it, he did. Made me sick. I wished he gave his attentions to Dru who'd appreciate them, but then that'd upset William, so I didn't particularly fancy that.

"Poor little grand-daughter," Drusilla said suddenly and tilted her head to the side and studied me. I'd only been there about two weeks and I already recognised that look as the look she got when she saw stuff in people. It was interesting, but irritated me more than my sister's whinging ever did.

"Eh?" I asked.

"All the whispers pulling your pretty red head in so many directions," then a look of total clarity came over her face. "You don't like me, do you?"

Never been a liar, never been too good at it, so I shrugged and nodded. "No. You're right, I don't like ya."

"I know why," she giggled annoyingly and it made me grit my teeth.

"Do you?" I sneered.

"Tut, tut, tut," she waved the doll's hand at me. "Daddy will be upset if you are naughty."

"I don't -" but she covered my mouth with her hand and pressed her finger to her lips.

"Ssshhh," she warned and her head moved in a strange weaving pattern

I shushed, mainly 'cause she had a grip on her. I listened and I clearly heard the raised voices coming from the floor below. I recognised William's voice first and my innards fluttered as they always did when I were around him. Drusilla smiled knowingly and I tried to stop feeling so damned girlie. Then I heard Angelus's voice, and the occasional murmur of Darla's.

"You'll do as I tell you to, boy!" Angelus said, and I knew it wouldn't be long 'til his voice got so loud that it echoed round the house.

"No, I bloody well won't!"

"Oh, William!" Darla snapped. "It's not like we're asking you to stake her!"

"We aren't asking you to do anything," Angelus told him. "We're telling you to take her!"

"I don't want to!"

They laughed, Angelus and Darla, and I felt rage bubble in me at the thought of the two of them laughing at William. I wondered what they were talking about, but deep down, I already knew. There had been talk ever since I'd arrived of possession and I had tried to pretend it were something else. It got so bad that the day before, I had heard Angelus scream, "If you don't take that girl down, I'll do it and I'll give her a damn good seeing to!" I knew they were talking 'bout me, and I wanted to tell William I wouldn't mind if it was him, but I were scared he'd say he didn't want to.

I heard the sound of a punch and I knew Angelus had knocked him down. I started to rise but Drusilla caught my arm, dragging me down to land with a soft thump with my skirts clouded round me. She looked at me fearfully, almost desperately, I reckon that were the last time I saw concern for me on her face.

"You can't," she told me. "We aren't allowed. No women are allowed in the loud squabbles."

"Darla's down there, Dru," I answered shortly and started to get up again.

"Grand-mummy is allowed," she explained, pulling me down again. "But only Grand-mummy. They'll turn your pretty hair to dust if you go down there."

Self-preservation kicked in and I nodded. I didn't want to be dust.

"Angelus!" Darla's voice rang out clearly over the noises of a scuffle.

I heard the two men pry themselves apart and could imagine them standing in front of her while she lorded it over them.

"William," she said. It was a tone I'd never heard her use before, she'd always seemed happy to go along with whatever Angelus wanted but now she truly took control and it reminded me that she were the head of our family, not Angelus as he liked to think. She continued in the same tone. "You will go upstairs now and you will send Drusilla down. Then you will take Gwen and do what you have to do."

"But I -"

"I'm offering you the chance of privacy," she interrupted harshly. "If you won't do it even now, Angelus will drag her down here and deflower her in full view of yourself, Drusilla and I. Do you want that?"

"No," I had never heard my Sire sound so sheepish.

"And you, Angelus," I couldn't help a small smile stealing over me face when I imagined him getting the overdue rollicking he deserved. "If you carry on like this, I may think you are not happy with just Drusilla and myself."

"I am," he muttered.

"Good," she said. "Go on, William."

Drusilla gave a little, angry squeal as she heard William climb the stairs and she dropped my hand like it was a cross or something. That's when she stopped liking me, not exactly a sharing person. William came into the room and I was pleased to see that he didn't look sheepish, but just as he always did: confident and charming.

"Drusilla," he started and the love in his voice made me want to kick her. "Angelus wants you downstairs."

She nodded happily and stood up, taking her doll with her.

"You're going to play, aren't you?" she asked.

"He's waitin', Dru," he answered.

She frowned childishly and flounced off downstairs. I curled me hands in me lap and bowed me head. I didn't look up when he crossed the room to me. I felt those gentle, deadly hands on my head, gently tugging the grips out of my hair. The curls tumbled around me face and he eased them back and offered me his hand. I looked up at him. He had a reassuring smile on his face.

"C'mon," he said.

He helped me up and took me along the hall to the room he slept in.

We didn't leave it 'til dusk.

It's been a long time since I kissed him, but I always remembered the feel of his lips and tongue, the way his hands would hesitate for a second before coming to rest on your shoulders or hips. I kept it in me all this time, but he's obviously practised his technique a lot since then, 'cause it's improved, if that's possible. I'm surprised he's responding, he knew Buffy was here, I'm sure he did, but he didn't push me away to stop her seeing. Part of me thinks it's 'cause he's not bothered anymore, that he's over her. Part of me knows he was just shocked into his instinctual reaction. It's nice all the same. His hands running over my hair and running down to grip my shoulders then up again to my hair. It's 'bout as close as li'l-old-demon-me'll ever get to Heaven. And I savour it. I commit every move of his lips, stroke of his tongue to memory. I can go over as often as I like, but I know it'll only torture me, but it's the sweetest torture I'll ever know.

Half of me drowns in him, the feel of him, the scent of him. The other half stays alert to the Slayer. I hear her pause up above and I think she's looking around for him, 'cause I moved too quietly for her to have heard. Then I hear her continue on to the opening that leads down here. I hear the creak of her tight jeans as she bends over and looks down. I think she's got a clear view of me and Spike wrapped around each other. I open one eye just a little and see her freeze, hear her heartbeat quicken and smell her horror.

It was fantastic, the kiss, the response, the touch, the taste. It was even more fantastic combined with her reaction. But the best bit was the absolute misery and disappointment in her, "No."

Spike heard her and pulled away, staring at me, panting. He looks horror-struck, yeah, that does a hell of a lot of good for my ego. Then he looks up at Buffy. He jumps off the bed and I flop back and sigh. Yeah, mission accomplished all right.

"Buffy," he starts, but she's already turned and is running across the crypt, to the door.

He glances back at me and the look on his face is indescribable. It's a mixture of disappointment, anger and regret. I nod curtly and he climbs the ladder to pursue her.

I can hear sobs catching in her throat and the sound of her hands gripping the door to yank it open.

I can still hear the horror and sadness in that "No."