DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING, JOSS OWNS EVERYTHING, BLAHDEY, BLAH, BLAH... RATINGS: R/NC17
Story starts at the end of FIRST DATE
ONE NORMAL DAY
CHAPTER 1 - BAD DAY
"Because I'm not ready for you to not be here," she had told him.
He had asked, and she had told him, to the best of her ability; God only knows, she had told him.
Yet still, he pushed her, looking at her with those expectant puppy dog eyes, soon clouded over by doubt.
"And the Principal?" Spike had asked. "How's he fit in?"
She could see the wheels turning in that strange brain of his.
What could she tell him? That Wood was possibly a man she could count on to help with the demon fighting, that he was attractive to her, sort of. But more likely, it was a case of keeping your enemies close; hers and Spike's. She'd had a very bad feeling rise in the pit of her stomach when he told her how his mother had been killed. Later, Wood had acted just a little too strange around Spike, stranger than just somebody who didn't have vampires as friends.
Keep your friends close; your enemies, closer.
Isn't that what she'd always done. Spike should know that, intimately.
Only they weren't enemies anymore. Friends? Would she call him her friend if someone asked her? Was there a word in English that could be descriptive enough to cover all that they had been to each other; past, present; future?
"How's he fit in?"
Didn't Spike know that Wood would never 'fit' in? Not like he did, nowhere even close to how he 'fit' into her life now. Piece of the puzzle - hers, his.
Unbelievable.
Unbeleiveably that he's putting me under pressure to define all this to him, reassure him that he's needed, that he 'fits' in, belongs.
Doesn't he already get that?
They sat in silence on the couch, each of them only taking sidelong glances at each other.
Spike had been stunned to hear what Buffy had said to him, "No, you have to stay, .... not why I need you here, ...because I'm not ready for you to not be here..."
He thought he'd handled himself quite well today. What with having learned that Buffy had a date and all that, "My eyes are clear," he'd told her. Believed it himself at the moment, too. Bugger.
"Why shouldn't she have a normal date, like a girl? Fellow wants to take her to a nice restaurant," he'd reasoned with himself. "Never going to work anyway; 'tween you and her, mate."
However, during the time she was out, he'd nearly climbed out of his own skin in anxiety, taken to glancing at the clock, furtively, every two minutes. Where the hell was a smoke, when you needed one?
He'd been all too happy to go and find her when 'the boy' found himself in a bad situation.
"Oh, this is possibly the best thing I've ever had in my mouth," she'd said to the principal. He looked sideways at Buffy, hoping he hadn't just betrayed the bit of eye roll he'd just done at the memory of that statement! Best thing, indeed!
If she'd had her phone with her, she could have handled it herself. He'd only gotten mostly in the way; she really didn't need him for his fighting skills these days. Then why? He looked at her again, questioningly.
Buffy saw him looking at her again. ENOUGH! She had to get out of there for a while.
She got up and started walked over to the weapon's chest.
"Where're you going? Spike asked her.
"Out. Do a little patrol," she answered, not looking at him.
"I'll come along," Spike said.
"NO!" Buffy said rougher than she intended, "I mean, no. You should stay; you can be on guard here. Okay?" she said, looking at him.
"Sure, whatever you want, pet," Spike said, feeling a bit hurt.
Buffy hurried out into the night. At least she could handle a couple of rogue demons or vamps. Couldn't handle the feelings that Spike was always bringing up in her. Not now, not with everything so uncertain. No time for that kind of thing.
Would there ever be a 'time' for that sort of thing? Whatever that was. One thing she was sure of - she'd not had any time for anything remotely normal in over 7 years.
And now, with The First, certainly no time for normal, now.
Time.
Time. Was. Running. Out.
Normal.
No. Time. To. Ever. Be.
Be.
Be. Normal.
Buffy walked along, pondering the very things that she'd left the house in order to forget about. As she did, two vampires watched her from behind Spike's old crypt as she made her rounds of the cemetery.
Spike paced restlessly around the house. He'd wanted to go on patrol with Buffy. He'd known what she was doing - getting away from him. Moreso than just keeping a few demons in check. What with the First in town, most the demons were keeping a low profile.
"Bugger!" he said to himself, as he walked down the basement stairs. "Really should get out of this town!"
Knew he wouldn't though, not if she wanted him here. Never. Even if it wound up killing him.
He lay down for a few minutes, closing his eyes. Less than ten minutes later he jolted upright.
"What, what is it?" Giles asked Spike sleepily, who'd shaken him awake.
"You're on guard duty. Going to find Buffy; somethin's wrong, " Spike said.
"She went out? Why didn't you stop her? Go with her?" Giles said, getting up off the cot in the spare bedroom Xander had erected downstairs.
"You ever stop the slayer from doing just what she wanted to?" Spike asked, giving Giles a dirty look.
"Don't suppose so," Giles answered.
"Right, then I'm gone," Spike said, hurrying up the stairs and out the back door before Giles had pulled on his pants.
Buffy hadn't seen them coming. Hadn't even sensed them until they both had jumped her from either side.
The bigger vampire, brandishing a baseball bat had hit Buffy square in the head with it, as the other knocked her off her feet. She was unconscious as she hit the ground.
"We got her! We got her!" the smaller vamp said with glee. "We've bagged the slayer!"
"Let's get her in here," the larger vamp said, motioning over to Spike's old crypt.
"Going to feed on her in there, then?" the smaller one asked, as he carried her over to the door of the crypt.
"All in good time, all in good time. Feed on her for a while, but don't want to kill her. We'll have plenty of bargaining power once everyone knows we've got the slayer. Might even be a nice bounty on her head," the larger vamp said, as he relished the thoughts.
Spike was running at full vampire speed as he approached the cemetery. He'd easily tracked her by scent, but even if he hadn't had that extra sense, he would have known where she was heading. She always did. His cemetery; his crypt.
He slowed his run to a walk as he approached the crypt. He could hear the faint whispers of the vampires. And sense her faint heartbeat. Faint?
Enraged, he threw open the doors to his old crypt, "BUFFY!" he yelled out.
The larger vampire, whose back had been to Spike, turned around slowly. In his arms, was the limp body of the slayer. The vampire looked over at Spike with yellow eyes and bloody fangs.
"Let her go!" Spike yelled.
"Hey, don't have to shout. There's plenty slayer still left for anyone who wants some," he said to Spike, smirking.
Spike tried to think quickly. He smiled at the larger vamp, "Hey mate, I've been tracking that bitch of a slayer for years. How'd you fellows bag her?"
"Just did. That was the funny part, she practically walked up to us," he said, as he adjusted Buffy's body from one arm to the other, while the other vamp looked on hungrily at her neck, "she just wasn't paying attention. Simple as that!"
"So you fellows decided to bring her here to my crypt?" Spike asked.
"Your crypt? Hasn't been anyone here in ages!" the smaller vamp said.
"Well, you're right and wrong, mate. Fact is, I did move out for a while, but I just moved back in the other day," Spike said.
"That makes her my property," he continued, "and it'll also make the third slayer I killed."
"You? You're the one? You're Spike?" the smaller vamp said, with admiration.
"The one and only," Spike said, taking a small bow.
"So what? Heard you killed your own kind now-a-days, anyway," the larger vamp said.
"Yeah, I killed a few of our kind. So what? All in the plan," Spike said.
"What plan is that?" the larger vamp asked.
"The plan to be able to get close enough to the slayer, have her trust me, then to kill her. Nearly bloody did until you blokes showed up here tonight and stole my thunder!" Spike said.
"Well, we did at that. Too bad, besides, got other uses for the slayer than just killing her. For now," the larger vamp said, leering down at Buffy's form as he licked his lips.
"What might that be?" Spike said, sickened to even think where else they might be going with that line; what they would do to her if they 'held' her captive. He knew only too well.
"Money, fame, prestige, leverage," the larger vamp said.
"Money is it?" Spike said, relieved that was the first thing, "what if I could pay you thousands of dollars right now for the slayer, would you be interested? You could still take all the glory, too. I just want the bitch dead. But, by my hands; been waiting years for this and would like to have myself this one thing."
"What's that?" the smaller vamp asked.
"One. Real. Good. Day!"
The vamps looked at each other.
"Okay, Spike. You can have her. Just show us the money."
Spike walked over to the corner of the crypt near the window and knelt down, discreetly adjusting something at his sides as he did. Taking a knife from his pocket, he scraped at the mortar from between some bricks. Soon he had dislodged the two bottom bricks. From behind them, he brought out a long, slender, tarnished lock box.*
He stood up and walked over to the old table that had once held his TV. He set the box down and opened it.
The vampires stood with their eyes agape as they saw the bundled money and jewels from across the room.
"Reckon there's about $50,000 here. I'd say that's a pretty fair deal for one skinny little, half dead slayer, wouldn't you? Spike asked.
The vamps nodded.
"Put her down," Spike motioned to the top of the sarcophagus, "don't drop her either; don't want her to die before I can kill her."
After doing so, the vamps walked over to where the money was as Spike circled over towards Buffy. Checking to see that she was still breathing, he walked back over towards them, as they were greedily counting the money.
Spike took two stakes from either side of his pants and dispatched the shocked vampires before they knew what hit them.
"Too easy." Spike said, "should've been for you too, Buffy. What happened?"
He hurriedly shoved the money and jewels back in the lock box and stuck the whole thing into his inner jacket pocket. No time to re-mortar his favorite hiding place; he'd have to find another one or come back and fix this one sometime.
Buffy was just coming to as Spike picked her up in his arms.
"Huh? Sp...what hap..?" she said, her head pounding.
"Don't worry, pet. I've got you. Spike's got you."
"How?" Buffy said, trying to come conscious, but giving herself up to being carried home in Spike's strong arms.
How indeed? How'd a couple of amateurs like those back there get the best of his slayer?
"Just had a bad day," he answered her.
END OF CHAPTER 1
* Note: There is a reference to a money box that may sound familiar, but don't worry, only plagiarized a bit of a description from my own first story called SEEING YOU. Since it's mine, I'm pretty sure I can give myself permission to use it.
Story starts at the end of FIRST DATE
ONE NORMAL DAY
CHAPTER 1 - BAD DAY
"Because I'm not ready for you to not be here," she had told him.
He had asked, and she had told him, to the best of her ability; God only knows, she had told him.
Yet still, he pushed her, looking at her with those expectant puppy dog eyes, soon clouded over by doubt.
"And the Principal?" Spike had asked. "How's he fit in?"
She could see the wheels turning in that strange brain of his.
What could she tell him? That Wood was possibly a man she could count on to help with the demon fighting, that he was attractive to her, sort of. But more likely, it was a case of keeping your enemies close; hers and Spike's. She'd had a very bad feeling rise in the pit of her stomach when he told her how his mother had been killed. Later, Wood had acted just a little too strange around Spike, stranger than just somebody who didn't have vampires as friends.
Keep your friends close; your enemies, closer.
Isn't that what she'd always done. Spike should know that, intimately.
Only they weren't enemies anymore. Friends? Would she call him her friend if someone asked her? Was there a word in English that could be descriptive enough to cover all that they had been to each other; past, present; future?
"How's he fit in?"
Didn't Spike know that Wood would never 'fit' in? Not like he did, nowhere even close to how he 'fit' into her life now. Piece of the puzzle - hers, his.
Unbelievable.
Unbeleiveably that he's putting me under pressure to define all this to him, reassure him that he's needed, that he 'fits' in, belongs.
Doesn't he already get that?
They sat in silence on the couch, each of them only taking sidelong glances at each other.
Spike had been stunned to hear what Buffy had said to him, "No, you have to stay, .... not why I need you here, ...because I'm not ready for you to not be here..."
He thought he'd handled himself quite well today. What with having learned that Buffy had a date and all that, "My eyes are clear," he'd told her. Believed it himself at the moment, too. Bugger.
"Why shouldn't she have a normal date, like a girl? Fellow wants to take her to a nice restaurant," he'd reasoned with himself. "Never going to work anyway; 'tween you and her, mate."
However, during the time she was out, he'd nearly climbed out of his own skin in anxiety, taken to glancing at the clock, furtively, every two minutes. Where the hell was a smoke, when you needed one?
He'd been all too happy to go and find her when 'the boy' found himself in a bad situation.
"Oh, this is possibly the best thing I've ever had in my mouth," she'd said to the principal. He looked sideways at Buffy, hoping he hadn't just betrayed the bit of eye roll he'd just done at the memory of that statement! Best thing, indeed!
If she'd had her phone with her, she could have handled it herself. He'd only gotten mostly in the way; she really didn't need him for his fighting skills these days. Then why? He looked at her again, questioningly.
Buffy saw him looking at her again. ENOUGH! She had to get out of there for a while.
She got up and started walked over to the weapon's chest.
"Where're you going? Spike asked her.
"Out. Do a little patrol," she answered, not looking at him.
"I'll come along," Spike said.
"NO!" Buffy said rougher than she intended, "I mean, no. You should stay; you can be on guard here. Okay?" she said, looking at him.
"Sure, whatever you want, pet," Spike said, feeling a bit hurt.
Buffy hurried out into the night. At least she could handle a couple of rogue demons or vamps. Couldn't handle the feelings that Spike was always bringing up in her. Not now, not with everything so uncertain. No time for that kind of thing.
Would there ever be a 'time' for that sort of thing? Whatever that was. One thing she was sure of - she'd not had any time for anything remotely normal in over 7 years.
And now, with The First, certainly no time for normal, now.
Time.
Time. Was. Running. Out.
Normal.
No. Time. To. Ever. Be.
Be.
Be. Normal.
Buffy walked along, pondering the very things that she'd left the house in order to forget about. As she did, two vampires watched her from behind Spike's old crypt as she made her rounds of the cemetery.
Spike paced restlessly around the house. He'd wanted to go on patrol with Buffy. He'd known what she was doing - getting away from him. Moreso than just keeping a few demons in check. What with the First in town, most the demons were keeping a low profile.
"Bugger!" he said to himself, as he walked down the basement stairs. "Really should get out of this town!"
Knew he wouldn't though, not if she wanted him here. Never. Even if it wound up killing him.
He lay down for a few minutes, closing his eyes. Less than ten minutes later he jolted upright.
"What, what is it?" Giles asked Spike sleepily, who'd shaken him awake.
"You're on guard duty. Going to find Buffy; somethin's wrong, " Spike said.
"She went out? Why didn't you stop her? Go with her?" Giles said, getting up off the cot in the spare bedroom Xander had erected downstairs.
"You ever stop the slayer from doing just what she wanted to?" Spike asked, giving Giles a dirty look.
"Don't suppose so," Giles answered.
"Right, then I'm gone," Spike said, hurrying up the stairs and out the back door before Giles had pulled on his pants.
Buffy hadn't seen them coming. Hadn't even sensed them until they both had jumped her from either side.
The bigger vampire, brandishing a baseball bat had hit Buffy square in the head with it, as the other knocked her off her feet. She was unconscious as she hit the ground.
"We got her! We got her!" the smaller vamp said with glee. "We've bagged the slayer!"
"Let's get her in here," the larger vamp said, motioning over to Spike's old crypt.
"Going to feed on her in there, then?" the smaller one asked, as he carried her over to the door of the crypt.
"All in good time, all in good time. Feed on her for a while, but don't want to kill her. We'll have plenty of bargaining power once everyone knows we've got the slayer. Might even be a nice bounty on her head," the larger vamp said, as he relished the thoughts.
Spike was running at full vampire speed as he approached the cemetery. He'd easily tracked her by scent, but even if he hadn't had that extra sense, he would have known where she was heading. She always did. His cemetery; his crypt.
He slowed his run to a walk as he approached the crypt. He could hear the faint whispers of the vampires. And sense her faint heartbeat. Faint?
Enraged, he threw open the doors to his old crypt, "BUFFY!" he yelled out.
The larger vampire, whose back had been to Spike, turned around slowly. In his arms, was the limp body of the slayer. The vampire looked over at Spike with yellow eyes and bloody fangs.
"Let her go!" Spike yelled.
"Hey, don't have to shout. There's plenty slayer still left for anyone who wants some," he said to Spike, smirking.
Spike tried to think quickly. He smiled at the larger vamp, "Hey mate, I've been tracking that bitch of a slayer for years. How'd you fellows bag her?"
"Just did. That was the funny part, she practically walked up to us," he said, as he adjusted Buffy's body from one arm to the other, while the other vamp looked on hungrily at her neck, "she just wasn't paying attention. Simple as that!"
"So you fellows decided to bring her here to my crypt?" Spike asked.
"Your crypt? Hasn't been anyone here in ages!" the smaller vamp said.
"Well, you're right and wrong, mate. Fact is, I did move out for a while, but I just moved back in the other day," Spike said.
"That makes her my property," he continued, "and it'll also make the third slayer I killed."
"You? You're the one? You're Spike?" the smaller vamp said, with admiration.
"The one and only," Spike said, taking a small bow.
"So what? Heard you killed your own kind now-a-days, anyway," the larger vamp said.
"Yeah, I killed a few of our kind. So what? All in the plan," Spike said.
"What plan is that?" the larger vamp asked.
"The plan to be able to get close enough to the slayer, have her trust me, then to kill her. Nearly bloody did until you blokes showed up here tonight and stole my thunder!" Spike said.
"Well, we did at that. Too bad, besides, got other uses for the slayer than just killing her. For now," the larger vamp said, leering down at Buffy's form as he licked his lips.
"What might that be?" Spike said, sickened to even think where else they might be going with that line; what they would do to her if they 'held' her captive. He knew only too well.
"Money, fame, prestige, leverage," the larger vamp said.
"Money is it?" Spike said, relieved that was the first thing, "what if I could pay you thousands of dollars right now for the slayer, would you be interested? You could still take all the glory, too. I just want the bitch dead. But, by my hands; been waiting years for this and would like to have myself this one thing."
"What's that?" the smaller vamp asked.
"One. Real. Good. Day!"
The vamps looked at each other.
"Okay, Spike. You can have her. Just show us the money."
Spike walked over to the corner of the crypt near the window and knelt down, discreetly adjusting something at his sides as he did. Taking a knife from his pocket, he scraped at the mortar from between some bricks. Soon he had dislodged the two bottom bricks. From behind them, he brought out a long, slender, tarnished lock box.*
He stood up and walked over to the old table that had once held his TV. He set the box down and opened it.
The vampires stood with their eyes agape as they saw the bundled money and jewels from across the room.
"Reckon there's about $50,000 here. I'd say that's a pretty fair deal for one skinny little, half dead slayer, wouldn't you? Spike asked.
The vamps nodded.
"Put her down," Spike motioned to the top of the sarcophagus, "don't drop her either; don't want her to die before I can kill her."
After doing so, the vamps walked over to where the money was as Spike circled over towards Buffy. Checking to see that she was still breathing, he walked back over towards them, as they were greedily counting the money.
Spike took two stakes from either side of his pants and dispatched the shocked vampires before they knew what hit them.
"Too easy." Spike said, "should've been for you too, Buffy. What happened?"
He hurriedly shoved the money and jewels back in the lock box and stuck the whole thing into his inner jacket pocket. No time to re-mortar his favorite hiding place; he'd have to find another one or come back and fix this one sometime.
Buffy was just coming to as Spike picked her up in his arms.
"Huh? Sp...what hap..?" she said, her head pounding.
"Don't worry, pet. I've got you. Spike's got you."
"How?" Buffy said, trying to come conscious, but giving herself up to being carried home in Spike's strong arms.
How indeed? How'd a couple of amateurs like those back there get the best of his slayer?
"Just had a bad day," he answered her.
END OF CHAPTER 1
* Note: There is a reference to a money box that may sound familiar, but don't worry, only plagiarized a bit of a description from my own first story called SEEING YOU. Since it's mine, I'm pretty sure I can give myself permission to use it.