Buffy had been back to school for a week before Giles let her go patrolling
again. It had been two and half weeks since the accident, and Buffy had
managed to convince him that she was strong enough to go out again. She's
been screwing Angel for the past two weeks, although Giles didn't know
that, and she was sure that if she could handle that, she could handle
patrolling. Plus she knew that Angel had told all vampires under his
control that if they went anywhere near her, they would die very painfully.
And all the vampires knew of Angelus's love of pain, and not wanting to
evoke that love, stayed out of Buffy's way.
As Buffy staked her second vampire of the night, she revealed in the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her veins and the air blowing the dust around her, despite the fact that she hated trying to get it out of her hair and clothes. Once the vampire was no more than a statistic- Vamps:0, Buffy: too large of a number to count- Buffy put the stake back into her pocket and turned around.
Angel stood directly in front of her. Buffy, startled, jumped and let out a small squeak. Surprised that she hadn't felt his presence, Buffy scowled and looked him in the eye.
"You really shouldn't sneak up on people in a graveyard, lover," she snapped. "Especially not people who would normally put a stake right threw your little heart when you sneak up on them." Playfulness had snuck into her voice at the end, and as Angel moved his arm around her waist, she didn't stop him. She only moved closer to him.
"Well, lover," he whispered into her ear, "what are you going to do about it?" His other hand unclipped her hair, and the blonde tendrils cascaded down around her shoulders. The moon shone off them and her hair sparkled, as did her eyes.
Buffy leaned back slightly to shake out her hair, and Angel dipped her. Caught off guard, Buffy grasped tightly onto him with both hands and gasped. She looked into his dark eyes and saw need and passion. They hadn't been together in days-he'd been out of town, and then her mother had been home every other night-and he wanted her. They stayed like that for a moment, both lost in each other's embrace, before Angel kissed her. Buffy eagerly accepted the kiss, and clung to him.
She needed him, like she needed are to breathe, and like he needed blood to survive. Without each other they would die.
Buffy pulled away for air, and Angel moved to her neck. His mouth moved over her sensitive skin. He could feel the veins pulsing beneath her skin, and desire filled him. He felt the hunger for both her and blood rise and he began to change. His eyes changed from chocolate to amber, and Buffy could feel his face transform against her throat.
She gasped as she realized what was happening. She felt his fangs graze her skin, and she knew that he didn't have much control left. But she simply moved one hand to the back of his neck and urged his mouth to her throat. Not thinking, Angel bit down, and her hot blood spilled into his mouth.
Pleasure and pain hit Buffy like a shockwave, and she dug her nails into his skin to keep from exploding. Dizziness overcame her, and her body convulsed in pleasure. Coming harder than she ever had in her entire life, Buffy screamed out his name and Angel continued to feed from her.
After a moment when numbness started to fill her body, Angle pulled away and returned his face to its human visage. Buffy hung limply in his arms, eyes closed, not having enough energy left to do anything else. Angel cradled her in his arms until her eyes opened and she smiled at him. She pulled herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"That was very." she paused to think of a word. Her words were breathy and her voice low. After a moment she said, "Intense."
"You seemed to enjoy it," Angel replied. He took Buffy's hand and led her over to a tree about eight feet away. He sat down against the trunk of the tree, and pulled Buffy down onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and Buffy laid her head against his chest.
Buffy realized for the first time how much like a normal couple they looked. He was being nice to her-loving one would even say. And while she loved it more than anything, it also scared her. Every report of Angelus she had ever read or heard of, reported him to be a viscous, heartless killer, not caring who or what he destroyed in the path of his joy. He reveled in the looks of horror and shear panic. He fed off of their fear, he lived for it. Whether he was killing, raping, maiming, it was all a thrill for him.
But this wasn't Angelus, the monster that had ripped threw Europe decades ago. And this wasn't the Angel she had originally fallen in love with. If it was possible, he was somewhere in between. Angelus would never have sat with her under a tree or nursed her back to health, but Angel never would have thrilled her or brought her to the highs that she felt now. It was almost as if the two identities had formed into one.
Buffy closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. He always smelling like soap and cologne, a scent she found very sensuous. Buffy placed one hand on his chest and the other played with the small blades of grass that surrounded them. She could feel his cool, smooth skin through his silk shirt. She didn't think that Angelus even owned anything made of simpler fabrics like cotton. Too cheep for his expensive tastes. But she had to admit, his choice in fabrics did feel better on her skin.
"This is nice," she said with a sigh. She didn't look at him as she spoke. Angel pulled her closer and ran his hand over her shoulder. "It's almost like.like we're not us. We're a normal couple, in love." As soon as she said the words and felt Angel's muscles stiffen, she whished she could take them back. She pulled away from him and turned to look at him, her eyes wide with guilt. She could have possibly ruined the most perfect moment she had had with him.
Angel didn't look at her. Instead, he said, "I've got to get back to the mansion. I'm expecting someone." He began to rise.
Buffy rose and touched him arm. He looked at her with a look that told her he didn't want to talk about it. Her hand retreated and she watched as he walked towards the entrance to the cemetery. "I'll call you," he said without looking at her. They were the same words he had said to her the day after they had made love, when she had realized that he no longer had a soul.
Tears stung the back of her eyes and her lower lip began to tremble. But Angel didn't turn around to say he was sorry, or to see if she was ok. He continued to walk. Buffy watched him until he was out of site, hoping that for some reason he would turn around. But once she could no longer see him, she sunk to her knees. She had feared this would happen the entire time, and now it was. A part of her had always known that when she was well again, he would no longer be caring and loving. But the thing that hurt the most was that she was sure now that he really didn't love her.
~
When Buffy entered her house the night, she wished her mother was home. Joyce had reluctantly left for two days to go on a buying trip in Santa Monica. Buffy had told her mother that she would be fine, but now she wished she were here. She'd tell her everything, that Angel was back, and that he was evil. But she was alone tonight. At the beginning of her patrol she thought she might have been spending the night with Angel, but all her hopes were dashed.
She showered quickly and the got read for bed with out eating. She knew she should eat something- all she had eaten today was an apple for breakfast-but she wasn't hungry. After crawling into bed, she realized that the light on her phone was blinking. She had messages. She hit the button and waited for the first message to play.
It was Willow. "Hey Buffy. It's me. I was wondering if you didn't get in too late tonight if you wanted to have some girl time. We haven't really gotten a chance to talk much, and.I miss it. Well, give me a call. Bye."
Buffy looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was only ten forty five. Willow would sill be up, and probably would still want to do the whole girl thing. And Buffy could really use someone to talk to. She called Willow and they decided that the redhead would spend the night at Buffy's.
After she hung up, Buffy went downstairs to see if they had any microwave popcorn and other junk food goodies. She raided the fridge and cupboard and placed some of each food on a plate and then on a tray to carry into the living room. She then pulled out a bunch of movies for them to watched and waited silently for her friend to appear.
Five minutes later the doorbell rang. Buffy rose to let Willow in, but when she opened the door it wasn't Willow she found. It was Spike. And a very drunken Spike at that.
His hair was disheveled and his clothes were rumpled, like he's slept in them numerous times. He leaned against the door jam, one arm above his head, the other holding a bottle of scotch. His eyes looked glazed over and Buffy was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get any thing of any importance out of him. Like why he was here.
"Hello Slayer," he said, trying to sound as menacing as possible, which wasn't very, do to the fact that his words were slurred and a bit of drool fell from between his lips.
Buffy grimaced. He was pathetic. "Just what I wanted." She thought about slamming the door in his face right now, and then reveling in the yelps of pain as his nose was damaged by the door, but then decided that she would humor him. "What do you want, Spike?"
Instead of answering, he kind of looked around, like he was lost, and then his eyes fell shut. Moments later there was a sickening thud as the back of his scull connected with her front porch. Buffy looked at him for a moment, trying to decide what to do. She didn't really want to bring him inside, but she knew if he woke up where he was, he would just barge in, probably around the time when the sun was rising, and then Buffy would have to deal with him for an even longer period of time. For some reason, the thought of killing him never crossed her mind.
When Willow began to walk up the walkway, she didn't recognize the body lying at Buffy's feet. But once she got close enough, the bleach blonde hair instantly told her whom it was. "What happened?" she asked. Willow carefully stepped around him and into the Summer's house.
"He just kinda showed up drunk. Then, he passed out." Buffy kicked his leg to see if she would get any sort of response. Nothing. "Do you think vampires can get alcohol poisoning?"
Willow placed her overnight bag on the stairs behind them and then stepped beside Buffy. "Not sure. I thought they couldn't get drunk."
"They can," said Buffy, remembering what Angel had said the last night she had spent at the mansion. She pushed back the immediate flood of tears that threatened to fall at any moment. She and Willow would talk about that later, but now they had to deal with Spike. "It just takes a lot of alcohol to do it. And from the looks of it, I think he drank enough to get the entire state of California a life time membership to AA." Once again Buffy kicked Spike, a little harder, but he still didn't move. "Ok, help me get him inside."
Willow looked at Buffy like she had just grown another head, but said nothing. She bent down to help the blond. Each girl took one of his arms and pulled him into the house. His bottle of scotch had fallen from his hands and was spilling all over Buffy's porch. She was pretty sure he was going to be pissed about it when he woke up. Once in the living room, they dropped him on the couch. They both stood back for a moment, as if examining a work of art. But the thing that lay haphazardly on her couch was not a work of art. While well built, and even hot and some times, Spike was crude, perverse, and all out a pain in Buffy's ass.
After a moment, Buffy slapped him hard across the face. It was definitely hard enough to bruise him, and when he didn't move, Buffy began to worry. She hit him harder again in the same spot, and he twitched. Just as she was about to hit him again, he shook his head and opened him eyes.
Not sure where he was, he looked around. When his eyes fell on the Slayer and the redhead, his eyes widened. "What the hell am I doing here?"
"Why don't you tell us," Buffy said. Spike laughed. Even with her arms crossed over her chest and a look of pure annoyance on her face, the fact that she was dressed in a Winnie the Pooh tank and her hair was piled on her head so that she looked like Pebbles made her look like a ditzy cheerleader.
Buffy glared at him, and he choked back another laugh. No need to piss off the Slayer. Spike began to sit up, but was hit with a wave of dizziness, and leaned against the couch. He was pretty sure he was going to puke. After a moment, he said, "I'm here." Then he remembered why he was here. Well, not exactly why he was here in Sunnydale, or in Buffy's home, for that matter, but he knew why he was no longer is South America, where he's been for the past few weeks.
Dru had left him. She had gotten bored with him, something he was sure would never happen, and she had left him. He woke up one evening, surprised to find himself alone in the bed. Only thinking she'd gone out to eat, he thought nothing of it. But when he found the note on the dresser, he wanted to kill himself. She had claimed he'd lost his fire, that he no longer kept her interested. She wanted new blood.
And somehow, he had ended up back here. He was still not really sure why he was here, but he was beginning to regret it. When he finally looked at Buffy again, he realized she and Red were still waiting for an answer. Thinking quick, he made up a lie that was somewhat believable-he didn't want to admit to anyone that Dru had left him; he did still have a reputation to hold up. "I thought I'd come back and say hi to some old friends. I haven't gotten to spend much time with old Angelus, and I would kinda like to get to see the guy." That was biggest load of bullshit that Spike had ever delivered to anyone. He hated Angelus. Spike's sire had been his everything when he had first become a vampire: Angelus taught him everything, cared for him, basically kept him alive so to speak.
But Angelus had also been more than that. More than anything, he had been Spike's lover. Dru had been fascinated with Spike, and when Spike wasn't exactly sure how to please the insane vampire, Angelus had showed him what to do, and more. The three of them would spend hours upon hours in bed together, never tiring of the constant pleasure they fed each other. Darla was constantly coming and going, but when she was around, Spike had to fight for Angelus's attention, and it killed him.
And when Angelus had been cursed with his soul, he had left Spike and the vampire world behind. Spike had tried his best at getting hid sire to return, but Angel shunned his childe. Spike was crushed. His father, brother, and lover was gone. Spike hated Angelus for leaving. Dru, also destroyed, had clung to Spike for support, and after a few years, then finally the two only needed each other to survive. But Spike could never completely get rid of the feelings he still had for his sire.
Buffy gave him a skeptical look and Spike knew that she didn't buy his cover. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Ok, ok." He paused and began to sit up, slowly due to the amount of pain cursing threw his head. It was like every drop of alcohol had left his body and he was now left with the wonderful feeling of a hangover. Normally, since he didn't get drunk, he didn't get hangovers. And since it took a lot to get him drunk, when he did have a hangover, it was very painful. After clearing his head enough, he began his story. "I was down in South America, and after a bout with Dru, we decided to take a break and I decided to come back up here and give you guys a hard time. This place is practically like home to me now, so I figured why not visit my family." There was so much disgust in his voice it even made him sick. Or maybe that was the hangover.
Buffy looked at Willow and saw the same disbelief that she was sure was written on her face. She was pretty sure that Dru had left Spike, but she wasn't sure he had come back here on his own accord. He was a demon at heart, and a selfish once at that, so she guessed he was here for something, money or otherwise. "Well as much as we would all love a great big family reunion, I think we can skip it." She grabbed him by the collar of his duster and began to pull him towards the front door. "Now get your lazy drunk ass out of my house. Go find another family to bug." Buffy froze. She hoped he didn't actually do that; he might kill them. But since Spike couldn't walk in a strait line right now, she doubted he'd do any pertinent damage.
Spike stumbled out of the Summer's front door and onto his ass. He looked up at the girls just in time to see the front door slam. The noise caused his head to throb. "Bloody hell!" He shouted, which only caused the pain to increase. As he raised his hand to massage his aching temples, he noticed that his left hand and the left side of his leg was wet. Then he saw his empty bottle of scotch with its contents spilt around and under him. "I really hate this place," he said to no one in particular.
~
After Buffy and Willow had rid themselves of Spike, they set themselves in front of the TV with a big bowl of junk food, plenty of which was chocolate. After an hour or so of mindless TV and girly chit chat-none of which covered the Angel category- Buffy began to yawn. It was getting late and she hadn't slept well the night before. "Ready for bed?" she asked Willow.
Willow, who was practically asleep next to her friend on the couch nodded and began to rise. Buffy followed and the two friends made there way up to Buffy's room. As the girls got situated in the bed, Willow asked, "Buffy, do you want to talk about Angel?"
Buffy swallowed hard and blinked. She had been able to block him from her mind for the entire night, but now she couldn't stop his words and actions from reeking havoc in her mind. Hot, salty tears ran from her eyes and she choked back a sob. She loved a demon who didn't love her back, and now her fears were coming true. She knew once she was better he'd turn on her. If she had said what she had said tonight a week earlier, she was sure he would have shrugged it off. But tonight he had walked away and she was pretty sure he wasn't going to come walking back in.
Willow took her friend into her embrace. "It's ok, Buffy. Everything is going to be ok." And while Willow wished she was right, she knew that there could be no happy ending where Angel was concerned. He-evil or good- and Buffy were damned together, and they were damned apart. She just wished there was some way she could make it easier for her friend.
~
As Buffy cried out the entire tail of what had happened over the past few hours to Willow, Spike entered the mansion with the intent of pissing off his sire to the point that Angel would get so fed up with him and either put him out of his misery or tie him to the wall and punish him for interrupting his perfect evening, and Spike wasn't sure which of the two sounded better. As he walked into the large living room, he looked around for his sire. The poof wasn't there. Spike made his way through the many rooms that Angel might be in, and after finding him in none of them, Spike retreated to the room he had occupied during his short stay in the mansion.
The air was thick and dust covered everything from the bed covers to the white pillar candles on the dresser. Even though the bed was made, the bed sheets were old, not that Spike cared. He let his tired and alcohol saturated body fall limply onto the bed and dust plumed up around him. Spike didn't breath so none of it affected him. After pulling down the coverlet, he closed his eyes, and let the feeling on sleeping in a familiar room drug him to sleep.
~
Angel stormed angrily into the mansion and instantly felt another presence. It wasn't human, but was very familiar. He was overcome with the feeling that only a childe could bring to then surface, and he knew instantly that Spike was sleeping somewhere within the mansion walls. Not sure what he was going to do once he found him, Angel pulled his coat off and walked quickly and silently into the room where Spike slept. He halted at the door and waited to see if Spike woke, but the blond continued to sleep.
Angelus couldn't help but feel a bit of pleasure in seeing his childe asleep, vulnerable and peaceful. It was almost that of what a mother sees when she watches her baby sleep, but Angel felt more. Though the relationship between Spike and Angelus was strained to say the least, Angelus knew that if he crawled into that bed with Spike, the blond would not push him away. And that's was he did. Angel stripped off his shirt and shoes and crawled into bed next to his childe. With one arm around the younger male, Angel drifted off to sleep and put all thoughts of Buffy Summers out of him mind for the time being.
~
Willow left just after lunch the next day and Buffy was left alone to think. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to feel. She hurt and she was angry with both herself and Angel. There were too many thoughts and feelings running through her mind and heart, all of which contradicted each other. She could turn her back on Angel and kill her before he killed her, which she was sure he would do in the end. Or, she could accept that she loved him and he didn't love her, and try to be in some kind of demented, perverse relationship with a soulless killer. Neither one sounded appealing.
She did know however, she couldn't wait for him to come to her. Buffy knew that if she walked into the mansion, with her emotions running wild and not thinking strait, she very well might not walk out alive. But that didn't scare her. She was more afraid of loosing him and having him torture her again than she was of dieing.
Buffy, dressed in leather pants and a leather jacket, put a stake in her back pocket and left the house. As she shut the door behind her, she looked back, knowing it might be the last time she saw it.
As Buffy staked her second vampire of the night, she revealed in the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her veins and the air blowing the dust around her, despite the fact that she hated trying to get it out of her hair and clothes. Once the vampire was no more than a statistic- Vamps:0, Buffy: too large of a number to count- Buffy put the stake back into her pocket and turned around.
Angel stood directly in front of her. Buffy, startled, jumped and let out a small squeak. Surprised that she hadn't felt his presence, Buffy scowled and looked him in the eye.
"You really shouldn't sneak up on people in a graveyard, lover," she snapped. "Especially not people who would normally put a stake right threw your little heart when you sneak up on them." Playfulness had snuck into her voice at the end, and as Angel moved his arm around her waist, she didn't stop him. She only moved closer to him.
"Well, lover," he whispered into her ear, "what are you going to do about it?" His other hand unclipped her hair, and the blonde tendrils cascaded down around her shoulders. The moon shone off them and her hair sparkled, as did her eyes.
Buffy leaned back slightly to shake out her hair, and Angel dipped her. Caught off guard, Buffy grasped tightly onto him with both hands and gasped. She looked into his dark eyes and saw need and passion. They hadn't been together in days-he'd been out of town, and then her mother had been home every other night-and he wanted her. They stayed like that for a moment, both lost in each other's embrace, before Angel kissed her. Buffy eagerly accepted the kiss, and clung to him.
She needed him, like she needed are to breathe, and like he needed blood to survive. Without each other they would die.
Buffy pulled away for air, and Angel moved to her neck. His mouth moved over her sensitive skin. He could feel the veins pulsing beneath her skin, and desire filled him. He felt the hunger for both her and blood rise and he began to change. His eyes changed from chocolate to amber, and Buffy could feel his face transform against her throat.
She gasped as she realized what was happening. She felt his fangs graze her skin, and she knew that he didn't have much control left. But she simply moved one hand to the back of his neck and urged his mouth to her throat. Not thinking, Angel bit down, and her hot blood spilled into his mouth.
Pleasure and pain hit Buffy like a shockwave, and she dug her nails into his skin to keep from exploding. Dizziness overcame her, and her body convulsed in pleasure. Coming harder than she ever had in her entire life, Buffy screamed out his name and Angel continued to feed from her.
After a moment when numbness started to fill her body, Angle pulled away and returned his face to its human visage. Buffy hung limply in his arms, eyes closed, not having enough energy left to do anything else. Angel cradled her in his arms until her eyes opened and she smiled at him. She pulled herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"That was very." she paused to think of a word. Her words were breathy and her voice low. After a moment she said, "Intense."
"You seemed to enjoy it," Angel replied. He took Buffy's hand and led her over to a tree about eight feet away. He sat down against the trunk of the tree, and pulled Buffy down onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and Buffy laid her head against his chest.
Buffy realized for the first time how much like a normal couple they looked. He was being nice to her-loving one would even say. And while she loved it more than anything, it also scared her. Every report of Angelus she had ever read or heard of, reported him to be a viscous, heartless killer, not caring who or what he destroyed in the path of his joy. He reveled in the looks of horror and shear panic. He fed off of their fear, he lived for it. Whether he was killing, raping, maiming, it was all a thrill for him.
But this wasn't Angelus, the monster that had ripped threw Europe decades ago. And this wasn't the Angel she had originally fallen in love with. If it was possible, he was somewhere in between. Angelus would never have sat with her under a tree or nursed her back to health, but Angel never would have thrilled her or brought her to the highs that she felt now. It was almost as if the two identities had formed into one.
Buffy closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. He always smelling like soap and cologne, a scent she found very sensuous. Buffy placed one hand on his chest and the other played with the small blades of grass that surrounded them. She could feel his cool, smooth skin through his silk shirt. She didn't think that Angelus even owned anything made of simpler fabrics like cotton. Too cheep for his expensive tastes. But she had to admit, his choice in fabrics did feel better on her skin.
"This is nice," she said with a sigh. She didn't look at him as she spoke. Angel pulled her closer and ran his hand over her shoulder. "It's almost like.like we're not us. We're a normal couple, in love." As soon as she said the words and felt Angel's muscles stiffen, she whished she could take them back. She pulled away from him and turned to look at him, her eyes wide with guilt. She could have possibly ruined the most perfect moment she had had with him.
Angel didn't look at her. Instead, he said, "I've got to get back to the mansion. I'm expecting someone." He began to rise.
Buffy rose and touched him arm. He looked at her with a look that told her he didn't want to talk about it. Her hand retreated and she watched as he walked towards the entrance to the cemetery. "I'll call you," he said without looking at her. They were the same words he had said to her the day after they had made love, when she had realized that he no longer had a soul.
Tears stung the back of her eyes and her lower lip began to tremble. But Angel didn't turn around to say he was sorry, or to see if she was ok. He continued to walk. Buffy watched him until he was out of site, hoping that for some reason he would turn around. But once she could no longer see him, she sunk to her knees. She had feared this would happen the entire time, and now it was. A part of her had always known that when she was well again, he would no longer be caring and loving. But the thing that hurt the most was that she was sure now that he really didn't love her.
~
When Buffy entered her house the night, she wished her mother was home. Joyce had reluctantly left for two days to go on a buying trip in Santa Monica. Buffy had told her mother that she would be fine, but now she wished she were here. She'd tell her everything, that Angel was back, and that he was evil. But she was alone tonight. At the beginning of her patrol she thought she might have been spending the night with Angel, but all her hopes were dashed.
She showered quickly and the got read for bed with out eating. She knew she should eat something- all she had eaten today was an apple for breakfast-but she wasn't hungry. After crawling into bed, she realized that the light on her phone was blinking. She had messages. She hit the button and waited for the first message to play.
It was Willow. "Hey Buffy. It's me. I was wondering if you didn't get in too late tonight if you wanted to have some girl time. We haven't really gotten a chance to talk much, and.I miss it. Well, give me a call. Bye."
Buffy looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was only ten forty five. Willow would sill be up, and probably would still want to do the whole girl thing. And Buffy could really use someone to talk to. She called Willow and they decided that the redhead would spend the night at Buffy's.
After she hung up, Buffy went downstairs to see if they had any microwave popcorn and other junk food goodies. She raided the fridge and cupboard and placed some of each food on a plate and then on a tray to carry into the living room. She then pulled out a bunch of movies for them to watched and waited silently for her friend to appear.
Five minutes later the doorbell rang. Buffy rose to let Willow in, but when she opened the door it wasn't Willow she found. It was Spike. And a very drunken Spike at that.
His hair was disheveled and his clothes were rumpled, like he's slept in them numerous times. He leaned against the door jam, one arm above his head, the other holding a bottle of scotch. His eyes looked glazed over and Buffy was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get any thing of any importance out of him. Like why he was here.
"Hello Slayer," he said, trying to sound as menacing as possible, which wasn't very, do to the fact that his words were slurred and a bit of drool fell from between his lips.
Buffy grimaced. He was pathetic. "Just what I wanted." She thought about slamming the door in his face right now, and then reveling in the yelps of pain as his nose was damaged by the door, but then decided that she would humor him. "What do you want, Spike?"
Instead of answering, he kind of looked around, like he was lost, and then his eyes fell shut. Moments later there was a sickening thud as the back of his scull connected with her front porch. Buffy looked at him for a moment, trying to decide what to do. She didn't really want to bring him inside, but she knew if he woke up where he was, he would just barge in, probably around the time when the sun was rising, and then Buffy would have to deal with him for an even longer period of time. For some reason, the thought of killing him never crossed her mind.
When Willow began to walk up the walkway, she didn't recognize the body lying at Buffy's feet. But once she got close enough, the bleach blonde hair instantly told her whom it was. "What happened?" she asked. Willow carefully stepped around him and into the Summer's house.
"He just kinda showed up drunk. Then, he passed out." Buffy kicked his leg to see if she would get any sort of response. Nothing. "Do you think vampires can get alcohol poisoning?"
Willow placed her overnight bag on the stairs behind them and then stepped beside Buffy. "Not sure. I thought they couldn't get drunk."
"They can," said Buffy, remembering what Angel had said the last night she had spent at the mansion. She pushed back the immediate flood of tears that threatened to fall at any moment. She and Willow would talk about that later, but now they had to deal with Spike. "It just takes a lot of alcohol to do it. And from the looks of it, I think he drank enough to get the entire state of California a life time membership to AA." Once again Buffy kicked Spike, a little harder, but he still didn't move. "Ok, help me get him inside."
Willow looked at Buffy like she had just grown another head, but said nothing. She bent down to help the blond. Each girl took one of his arms and pulled him into the house. His bottle of scotch had fallen from his hands and was spilling all over Buffy's porch. She was pretty sure he was going to be pissed about it when he woke up. Once in the living room, they dropped him on the couch. They both stood back for a moment, as if examining a work of art. But the thing that lay haphazardly on her couch was not a work of art. While well built, and even hot and some times, Spike was crude, perverse, and all out a pain in Buffy's ass.
After a moment, Buffy slapped him hard across the face. It was definitely hard enough to bruise him, and when he didn't move, Buffy began to worry. She hit him harder again in the same spot, and he twitched. Just as she was about to hit him again, he shook his head and opened him eyes.
Not sure where he was, he looked around. When his eyes fell on the Slayer and the redhead, his eyes widened. "What the hell am I doing here?"
"Why don't you tell us," Buffy said. Spike laughed. Even with her arms crossed over her chest and a look of pure annoyance on her face, the fact that she was dressed in a Winnie the Pooh tank and her hair was piled on her head so that she looked like Pebbles made her look like a ditzy cheerleader.
Buffy glared at him, and he choked back another laugh. No need to piss off the Slayer. Spike began to sit up, but was hit with a wave of dizziness, and leaned against the couch. He was pretty sure he was going to puke. After a moment, he said, "I'm here." Then he remembered why he was here. Well, not exactly why he was here in Sunnydale, or in Buffy's home, for that matter, but he knew why he was no longer is South America, where he's been for the past few weeks.
Dru had left him. She had gotten bored with him, something he was sure would never happen, and she had left him. He woke up one evening, surprised to find himself alone in the bed. Only thinking she'd gone out to eat, he thought nothing of it. But when he found the note on the dresser, he wanted to kill himself. She had claimed he'd lost his fire, that he no longer kept her interested. She wanted new blood.
And somehow, he had ended up back here. He was still not really sure why he was here, but he was beginning to regret it. When he finally looked at Buffy again, he realized she and Red were still waiting for an answer. Thinking quick, he made up a lie that was somewhat believable-he didn't want to admit to anyone that Dru had left him; he did still have a reputation to hold up. "I thought I'd come back and say hi to some old friends. I haven't gotten to spend much time with old Angelus, and I would kinda like to get to see the guy." That was biggest load of bullshit that Spike had ever delivered to anyone. He hated Angelus. Spike's sire had been his everything when he had first become a vampire: Angelus taught him everything, cared for him, basically kept him alive so to speak.
But Angelus had also been more than that. More than anything, he had been Spike's lover. Dru had been fascinated with Spike, and when Spike wasn't exactly sure how to please the insane vampire, Angelus had showed him what to do, and more. The three of them would spend hours upon hours in bed together, never tiring of the constant pleasure they fed each other. Darla was constantly coming and going, but when she was around, Spike had to fight for Angelus's attention, and it killed him.
And when Angelus had been cursed with his soul, he had left Spike and the vampire world behind. Spike had tried his best at getting hid sire to return, but Angel shunned his childe. Spike was crushed. His father, brother, and lover was gone. Spike hated Angelus for leaving. Dru, also destroyed, had clung to Spike for support, and after a few years, then finally the two only needed each other to survive. But Spike could never completely get rid of the feelings he still had for his sire.
Buffy gave him a skeptical look and Spike knew that she didn't buy his cover. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Ok, ok." He paused and began to sit up, slowly due to the amount of pain cursing threw his head. It was like every drop of alcohol had left his body and he was now left with the wonderful feeling of a hangover. Normally, since he didn't get drunk, he didn't get hangovers. And since it took a lot to get him drunk, when he did have a hangover, it was very painful. After clearing his head enough, he began his story. "I was down in South America, and after a bout with Dru, we decided to take a break and I decided to come back up here and give you guys a hard time. This place is practically like home to me now, so I figured why not visit my family." There was so much disgust in his voice it even made him sick. Or maybe that was the hangover.
Buffy looked at Willow and saw the same disbelief that she was sure was written on her face. She was pretty sure that Dru had left Spike, but she wasn't sure he had come back here on his own accord. He was a demon at heart, and a selfish once at that, so she guessed he was here for something, money or otherwise. "Well as much as we would all love a great big family reunion, I think we can skip it." She grabbed him by the collar of his duster and began to pull him towards the front door. "Now get your lazy drunk ass out of my house. Go find another family to bug." Buffy froze. She hoped he didn't actually do that; he might kill them. But since Spike couldn't walk in a strait line right now, she doubted he'd do any pertinent damage.
Spike stumbled out of the Summer's front door and onto his ass. He looked up at the girls just in time to see the front door slam. The noise caused his head to throb. "Bloody hell!" He shouted, which only caused the pain to increase. As he raised his hand to massage his aching temples, he noticed that his left hand and the left side of his leg was wet. Then he saw his empty bottle of scotch with its contents spilt around and under him. "I really hate this place," he said to no one in particular.
~
After Buffy and Willow had rid themselves of Spike, they set themselves in front of the TV with a big bowl of junk food, plenty of which was chocolate. After an hour or so of mindless TV and girly chit chat-none of which covered the Angel category- Buffy began to yawn. It was getting late and she hadn't slept well the night before. "Ready for bed?" she asked Willow.
Willow, who was practically asleep next to her friend on the couch nodded and began to rise. Buffy followed and the two friends made there way up to Buffy's room. As the girls got situated in the bed, Willow asked, "Buffy, do you want to talk about Angel?"
Buffy swallowed hard and blinked. She had been able to block him from her mind for the entire night, but now she couldn't stop his words and actions from reeking havoc in her mind. Hot, salty tears ran from her eyes and she choked back a sob. She loved a demon who didn't love her back, and now her fears were coming true. She knew once she was better he'd turn on her. If she had said what she had said tonight a week earlier, she was sure he would have shrugged it off. But tonight he had walked away and she was pretty sure he wasn't going to come walking back in.
Willow took her friend into her embrace. "It's ok, Buffy. Everything is going to be ok." And while Willow wished she was right, she knew that there could be no happy ending where Angel was concerned. He-evil or good- and Buffy were damned together, and they were damned apart. She just wished there was some way she could make it easier for her friend.
~
As Buffy cried out the entire tail of what had happened over the past few hours to Willow, Spike entered the mansion with the intent of pissing off his sire to the point that Angel would get so fed up with him and either put him out of his misery or tie him to the wall and punish him for interrupting his perfect evening, and Spike wasn't sure which of the two sounded better. As he walked into the large living room, he looked around for his sire. The poof wasn't there. Spike made his way through the many rooms that Angel might be in, and after finding him in none of them, Spike retreated to the room he had occupied during his short stay in the mansion.
The air was thick and dust covered everything from the bed covers to the white pillar candles on the dresser. Even though the bed was made, the bed sheets were old, not that Spike cared. He let his tired and alcohol saturated body fall limply onto the bed and dust plumed up around him. Spike didn't breath so none of it affected him. After pulling down the coverlet, he closed his eyes, and let the feeling on sleeping in a familiar room drug him to sleep.
~
Angel stormed angrily into the mansion and instantly felt another presence. It wasn't human, but was very familiar. He was overcome with the feeling that only a childe could bring to then surface, and he knew instantly that Spike was sleeping somewhere within the mansion walls. Not sure what he was going to do once he found him, Angel pulled his coat off and walked quickly and silently into the room where Spike slept. He halted at the door and waited to see if Spike woke, but the blond continued to sleep.
Angelus couldn't help but feel a bit of pleasure in seeing his childe asleep, vulnerable and peaceful. It was almost that of what a mother sees when she watches her baby sleep, but Angel felt more. Though the relationship between Spike and Angelus was strained to say the least, Angelus knew that if he crawled into that bed with Spike, the blond would not push him away. And that's was he did. Angel stripped off his shirt and shoes and crawled into bed next to his childe. With one arm around the younger male, Angel drifted off to sleep and put all thoughts of Buffy Summers out of him mind for the time being.
~
Willow left just after lunch the next day and Buffy was left alone to think. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to feel. She hurt and she was angry with both herself and Angel. There were too many thoughts and feelings running through her mind and heart, all of which contradicted each other. She could turn her back on Angel and kill her before he killed her, which she was sure he would do in the end. Or, she could accept that she loved him and he didn't love her, and try to be in some kind of demented, perverse relationship with a soulless killer. Neither one sounded appealing.
She did know however, she couldn't wait for him to come to her. Buffy knew that if she walked into the mansion, with her emotions running wild and not thinking strait, she very well might not walk out alive. But that didn't scare her. She was more afraid of loosing him and having him torture her again than she was of dieing.
Buffy, dressed in leather pants and a leather jacket, put a stake in her back pocket and left the house. As she shut the door behind her, she looked back, knowing it might be the last time she saw it.