Title: To Get The Fire Back.
Summary: A/U after Pangs, set after season 6. Spike has disappeared for ten years, and when Angel finally finds him in LA..he's very different. He lacks fire.Will Buffy be able to help him? S/B
A/N-The Summary doesn't do it justice. Just read it, and you'll see. How can I summarize it when I barely know what it's about? It is AU after Pangs, all of the MAJOR events happen, but Buffy and Spike's relationship was drastically different.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine, blah blah blah.
Rated R For: profanity, violence, and implied sexual situations.
Prologue
He couldn't remember the sound of his own voice. This disturbed him, vaguely. He remembered Giles' upper-class accent, and Dawn's warm, honeyed voice, and the Slayer's icy yet sweet voice, like strawberry ice cream. But he couldn't remember his, and it never occurred to him to actually say something. He remembered he was from England. Which part? It hardly mattered anymore. Did he sound like he was from England? Did he have an accent like Giles?
He remembered their voices, and their laughter, but he couldn't remember their faces. Dawn had blonde hair, or was that Buffy? Maybe both, they were sisters after all. At least, he thought they were sisters, but he had a niggling suspicion that they weren't related at all. Was Giles their father? Did it matter anymore?
He knew there should be other people in his memories of the Hellmouth. Where was the Hellmouth? Sunny something. They danced on the peripheries of his memory, red hair and green eyes, and lame jokes and big hands. And who were they? Did they even exist?
Were they still alive? No...humans didn't live this long? Did they? He didn't know anymore, maybe they did now. Maybe they weren't humans at all. He remembered the way Buffy fought-well, he remembered he admired the way she fought. She was definitely human, warm, passionate, vanilla and chocolate and bursts of golden light. Therefore her friends must have been too.
Spike was tired..just tired. He still fought every night, like the Slayer, but he didn't remember why he fought. Most of the time he didn't even realize what he was doing. The other half he seemed to watch the punches, kicks, stakings, beheadings, and stabbings as if he were a detached observer, showing only a disdainful interest. But he fought and he didn't know why.
And some nights he cried and he didn't know why. Silent, broken sobs that left him drained and tired. He felt broken. And old. How old was he? The world hadn't changed so much, and it was difficult for him to mark the passing years without a reference point. There was no constant in his life except the killing. The killing, night after night, the killing. That never stopped. It was infinite, the killing, and he wondered sometimes, did he kill the Slayer? Did he kill her sweet sister? He just didn't know. He didn't think so, but one never could tell. He could barely remember them, much less what happened to them.
He could barely remember who he was. Spike, his name was Spike. And William. He had two names, and sometimes he didn't know which to answer to. But that was never really an issue because nobody every called for him.
No talking, no laughing, no singing, no love, no hate. He just existed, somewhere, alone. Alone.
On some of his more lucid days, he worried a great deal. He felt as though he should go back to the Hellmouth, if he could ever find it. He felt as though he was needed, that there was something or someone for him there. He just had to find his way again. At these times, he would panic and become frantic. But he didn't know what to do, and so eventually his determination to get back would whither and hibernate.. it never quite died. But he didn't know where he was, so how was he supposed to figure out where he was going.
Stake a vampire. Poof.
Oh. He was fighting. Ok, he looked around to see if he was fighting anybody else, but there were only piles of dust at his feet. Would he turn to dust when he died? Of course he would, that's what vampires do. But he felt human. It was the soul. Sometimes, in those lucid moments, Spike suspected that the confusion, the inability to do anything, to go home, was the soul's fault. It was hurting his head somehow.
That's why he didn't know his real name (Spike? William?) anymore. The soul was there, blanking everything else out, but how on Earth did a vampire get a soul? And why? He didn't know.
He knew one thing though, knew it for certain. This was torment. This existence and non-existence, being and not being. This was hell. Whatever he had done, he was sure he deserved it. But he didn't know how much longer he could last before he went for a walk into that enticing golden light, so much like the Slayer..He would probably go when he forgot her voice. If he forgot her, what possible reason could he have for existing?
Chapter 1.
"Spike, can you hear me?" Angel spoke loudly and slowly, hoping that this time there would be a reaction from the other, disheveled vampire. But Spike didn't respond. He never responded.
Buffy frowned, "What's wrong with him?"
Angel shrugged, "I really don't know."
"Why don't you tell me how you found him?" Buffy was torn between curiosity and disgust and hate and pity. God, this..this blank, sightless vampire sitting there surely wasn't her Spike?
'Since when has be been yours?' An inner-voice asked. 'Since forever,' her heart answered, and she sighed aloud.
"We were out, fighting a large gang of vampires. Suddenly, he appears out of nowhere. Gunn was going to stake him, and I was going to let him, until he started killing the vamps, single-handedly. When he was done, he turned around, and kept walking. He ignored us completely, so we followed him."
Spike twitched slightly, and mechanically reached out for the mug of blood that Angel had sat beside him nearly an hour earlier. He drank it in one gulp and gently set the mug down. His eyes never moved.
"Anyway, we kept an eye on him, and realized he had a routine. About three hours after sunset he would show up, dust as many vamps as he could within three hours, and then return to where ever he was holing up," Angel explained.
"Does he still do that?"
Angel nodded and looked at the clock. "He should be heading out in about 15 minutes. But Buffy..you should see the way he fights."
"What do you mean?"
"He fights like a robot, his expression completely blank. But every once in awhile, his face will clear and he'll look surprised, like he didn't realize he was fighting."
"Why did you call me?"
"Spike overheard us when we were discussing what to do with him. I mentioned your name, and he actually smiled. Since it's the only reaction.."Angel shrugged. "We didn't know what else to do. Buffy, why would he smile for you?"
It was a legitimate question, made perfect sense. Angel didn't know that the only thing Spike ever smiled for was her. Angel didn't know that Spike stopped smiling because of her. Angel didn't know anything.
"It's..it's a long story. Can we talk about it later?" Buffy said softly. Angel nodded. Both of them looking at the vampire who stared at the wall past them. Buffy lapsed into her own memories. Had it really been ten years since he walked out? Since she let him go? What had happened to him in those ten years? He looked broken. Did she break him.
"Do you want anything to eat or anything?"
"I'll have a glass of water," Buffy said quietly. She wasn't thirsty, but she wanted a second alone with Spike without Angel hovering over her shoulder. When Angel left the room, Buffy kneeled in front of Spike and gently stroked his cheek. "Where ya been, Blondie?"
Only his hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was a honey brown, long, and very dirty. Obviously showering wasn't part of his daily routine. His clothes were clean, but that was because Angel had got him some new ones. Apparently whatever he was wearing before stunk something awful. Spike didn't respond to her question. She continued to rub his face gently.
"Oh Spike, what did you do? What happened.."
**** "..here?" Buffy demanded angrily.
Spike shrugged, "I had an accident."
"This doesn't look like an accident, Spike. It looks like you destroyed Giles house."
"Well, I didn't mean to destroy his house," Spike said defensively, "I was just redecorating."
"Who said you could redecorate? And who said you could be untied?"
Spike looked slightly sheepish, "Supernatural strength, Slayer. I got tired of being tied up so," he held his hands out, "I'm not tied up anymore."
Buffy sighed, "Well, we're going to have to fix that."
"No, no," Spike insisted, "I'll be good."
"Spike, it's too late for that. Look at this mess!"
Spike obediently looked around Giles' trashed living room. "Ok, I admit, it doesn't look good. But I'll clean it up."
"Oh, I know you will. Because if you don't, Giles will have to sweep you up before he puts his house back together," Buffy's voice was cold and serious. Spike immediately set to work.
"Aren't you going to help, Slayer?"
"No, Spike. I'm going to watch." She perched on the couch, once Spike righted it, and twirled her stake lazily.
He leered at her, "You like to watch Slayer? Kinky."
"Less talk, Chippy, more work."
They were silent for several minutes as Spike dusted up the broken glass under Buffy's watchful eye. She sighed and wondered what he had broken.. no matter how much Spike cleaned, Giles would still have a conniption when he got home. She doubted she'd be able to stop her watcher from staking his undead ass.
Of course, she was forced to wonder why she even cared if Giles staked his undead ass. She'd never admit it out loud, but she was kinda starting to like the blonde menace..in an annoying, I'm going to kill him kind of way.
"Giles is going to kill you, you know," Buffy said conversationally as she watched Spike carefully replace his bottles of scotch. Most of them were nearly empty. The floor wasn't wet, so Buffy was left to believe that Spike had finished them off himself. Yep, Giles would freak.
"Good," Spike muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Buffy asked, still twirling the stake.
"I said good Slayer!"
"You wanna die Spike?"
"Yeah."
Buffy frowned. That didn't sound like Spike. He agreed to be tied up in the bathtub specifically because he didn't want to die. His sense of self- preservation was so strong tht he turned to his mortal enemies for help. Now he was willing to give up.
"Why?"
Spike paused and looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Because," he said slowly, "I can't hunt, can't feed, can't kill, and apparently, I can't even make a mess without being forced to clean it up."
Buffy nodded in sympathy, "The Big Bad is reduced to the Kind of Naughty."
Spike growled, "Shut up. I don't need to hear it from you. I should be ripping your throat out."
Buffy laughed, "Yeah."
"It's not funny Slayer."
The smiled didn't leave her face, "Of course not. Never said it was."
Spike sighed, "So where's your gang of losers."
"Out," She said, her smile suddenly gone.
"Huh?"
"They all have dates tonight."
Spike's frown disappeared as quickly as Buffy's smile had. "Really? So you're left all alone huh?"
Buffy shrugged, "I don't mind."
"No more school boys for you?"
"Shut up Spike."
"I can't say I blame them," he continued, "you probably broke the last one."
"Spike." her voice held a very serious warning, but Spike pressed on anyway. What did he care?
"It's ok. Mortal boys are so weak. And disappointing. He probably lasted what? 10, 15 minutes tops?" Spike smirked, "You need a real man. One that won't run out on you in the morning."
Buffy paused..it was closer to 7 or 8. Parker was a jerk and bad in bed. And Angel..
"Hit a nerve there, Slayer?" Spike asked when she didn't respond.
"Spike, just shut up." All of a sudden Buffy was very, very tired. She had been extremely lonely since Angel left. She put on a brave face and didn't cry anymore, but he was more than just her boyfriend. He was her best friend. She was so lonely that she was seriously beginning to think about going out with Riley, even though he was kind of boring. But normal.
Spike finished cleaning the kitchen, and slowly approached Buffy. She didn't seem to notice him though. He knew she was thinking about Angel. He wanted her to think about Angel. He wanted her to be in as much pain as he was. She deserved it, the bitch, walking around here all high and mighty, threatening him and.Jesus fuck, was that a tear?
"Got something in your eye?" Spike asked casually, still moving towards her slowly.
She blinked furiously, "Yeah, piece of dust."
"Uh huh."
"Take another step, and I'll have a whole faceful of dust."
"You don't mean it Buffy," his voice was soft now, deep, almost resonating inside of her. Did she mean it? God, she didn't know.
"How do you know?" Her voice was calm, sure.
"Cuz you want me to do this," Spike said, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek. His touch was feather light, almost like a breath of air.
"No, I really don't." But she didn't shy away from his fingers.
"Yes," his voice was a whisper now and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, "you really do."
Did he want to kiss her next? He looked like he wanted to kiss her. Would she let him? God, was she moving closer to him? This was insane, he couldn't do this. She wouldn't let him. Yep, any second now she was going to pull away, but his mouth just got closer and closer to hers and her mouth was dry..and Giles burst into his house.
"What the hell did you do Spike?"
Buffy jumped up, guiltily, but Spike just took a step back with an air of nonchalance.
"He got free," Buffy explained lamely.
"How?"
"He just.."
****
".got up and walked away," Buffy announced.
"Did you try to stop him?" Angel asked.
"No, I wanted to follow him."
"Ok, let's go."
They followed him down dark, deserted streets. They watched him fight, never helping or getting in his way. They were afraid he would stake Angel by mistake. Buffy was rather disturbed by what she saw. He was a killing machine. That's all. Fight, fight, stake, move on. There was no fire, no passion, no real purpose.
Spike had always been a very passionate fighter. He was in his element, came alive, so to speak. Spike was passionate in everything he did, of course, but fighting was something special. Beautiful. Warm. But now it was cold and ugly. These deaths were so detached, so without purpose, that Buffy felt a little sick over it.
"How long does he do this?" Buffy asked finally.
Angel shrugged, "He should be done within the hour."
"He only fights vampires?"
"If he runs into a demon he'll take it out, but he only searches for vamps."
"Humans?"
"Doesn't even see them."
"Well, that's something."
"Yeah."
Spike suddenly turned on his heal and headed back to Angel's hotel. "Guess it's time to go home," Buffy said wryly.
As they walked, Spike about 5 yards a head of them, they discussed what they should do with him.
"We could just let him alone."
"What do you mean?"
"He's helping us, and he's not hurting anybody," Angel pointed out, "Why does he need to change."
"Because he's broken Angel."
"When he's fixed, Buffy, he's a killer. Cold hearted murderer."
"No," Buffy said softly. "He's cold hearted right now. Spike has..
*** "Fire." Spike announced.
"What?" Buffy asked.
"Fire. Why don't you just use fire."
Buffy frowned, "What are you talking about?"
"Fire bomb Adam's cave. It won't kill him, but it'll ruin all his pretty toys."
"How do you know about his evil toys?"
Spike shrugged but didn't answer. Buffy regarded him suspiciously. Ever since their almost kiss, Spike had been helpful, in his own evil way. He'd ignore them for hours, days even, and then out of nowhere announce a plan. Most of the time his plans weren't bad.
"Xander, do you think we could get some grenades?"
Xander shrugged, "I could try. If you really want to, though do you really think you can trust any of his plans?"
Buffy sighed, frustrated. "His plan is to melt.uh Spike, what are we melting?"
"Computers mostly."
"Ok, his plan is to melt computers with big balls of fire. What's to trust?"
"But how will that stop him?" Xander demanded.
Spike shrugged, "It'll definitely put a crimp or a dozen in his plans."
"Great," Buffy announced, "And since it's your idea, you can come with me tonight and do some recon."
"Ok."
That was another thing. He didn't argue very much either. That was fine by her. It's not like she wanted to argue with him, right? It's not like their arguments made her heart beat faster and her palms sweaty, and her stomach tingle.
"We'll leave now."
"Weren't you going on a date with Riley tonight?" Willow asked, and Spike grimaced.
"Oh..yeah. Well, tell him that I'll meet him later in the Bronze. He'll understand. Come on Spike."
Well, she hoped Riley would understand. Lately had been slightly touchy about how much she had patrolled. Ok, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she had been patrolling with Spike. But to be fair, that wasn't exactly her idea. Giles had insisted that she get him out of the house to work off some energy. Riley didn't understand why she kept protecting the vampire from the Initiative. Honestly, neither did Buffy.
They were in the middle of Shady Rest cemetery, Buffy deep in thought about Riley, when she felt herself being pushed against the side of a crypt. Her back pressed into the cold, concrete wall, damp from an earlier rainstorm. Her first reaction was to fight, to push Spike away from her and maybe drive a stake through his heart when he motioned for her to be quiet. Thinking they were in some sort of danger, she stilled her struggles. He applied more pressure, keeping her pinned with his arm.
"What? Is something coming?" Buffy whispered.
Spike smiled, "Nothing coming, Slayer. Not yet."
"What?" Spike was close now, just a few inches from her face. His body was pressed against hers, and part of her liked it. He was hard and cool, his skin stretched tight against muscles coiled with tension. It felt good to feel her enemy, feel his strength. She always delighted in Angel's strength when they were together, and she kind of missed that. The slight danger, and the equality. "Your chip?"
"I'm not hurting you Slayer." His free hand traced her arm. "Am I?"
She shook her head. She knew she could push him away at any time, and this knowledge allowed her to relax slightly.
"What do you want Spike?"
"What you want."
"What's that?"
His face filled her vision. God his eyes were so blue. He was going to kiss her. Finally. Wait..finally? Whatever, it didn't matter, because now his lips were almost touching her, and she could smell him, and he smelt really good. And was she really going to allow the evil, undead vampire to kiss her? Was she really going to like it? There was time, she could stop him.
Oh, but she couldn't, because his lips touched hers and it felt very, very good. His lips tasted like the cool night, and they weren't harsh or demanding. They were searching and questioning, and Buffy was answering with her lips. On their own accord, her free hand snuck up and began rubbing his chest over his shirt. Slow circles directly above his heart.
Fire. Fire shot through her body. Spike was cold, but he was made of fire. As the kiss deepened, that was one coherent thought that refused to escape. Fire.
***
"Spike's has fire," she repeated. "We need to get it back."
TBC
Summary: A/U after Pangs, set after season 6. Spike has disappeared for ten years, and when Angel finally finds him in LA..he's very different. He lacks fire.Will Buffy be able to help him? S/B
A/N-The Summary doesn't do it justice. Just read it, and you'll see. How can I summarize it when I barely know what it's about? It is AU after Pangs, all of the MAJOR events happen, but Buffy and Spike's relationship was drastically different.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine, blah blah blah.
Rated R For: profanity, violence, and implied sexual situations.
Prologue
He couldn't remember the sound of his own voice. This disturbed him, vaguely. He remembered Giles' upper-class accent, and Dawn's warm, honeyed voice, and the Slayer's icy yet sweet voice, like strawberry ice cream. But he couldn't remember his, and it never occurred to him to actually say something. He remembered he was from England. Which part? It hardly mattered anymore. Did he sound like he was from England? Did he have an accent like Giles?
He remembered their voices, and their laughter, but he couldn't remember their faces. Dawn had blonde hair, or was that Buffy? Maybe both, they were sisters after all. At least, he thought they were sisters, but he had a niggling suspicion that they weren't related at all. Was Giles their father? Did it matter anymore?
He knew there should be other people in his memories of the Hellmouth. Where was the Hellmouth? Sunny something. They danced on the peripheries of his memory, red hair and green eyes, and lame jokes and big hands. And who were they? Did they even exist?
Were they still alive? No...humans didn't live this long? Did they? He didn't know anymore, maybe they did now. Maybe they weren't humans at all. He remembered the way Buffy fought-well, he remembered he admired the way she fought. She was definitely human, warm, passionate, vanilla and chocolate and bursts of golden light. Therefore her friends must have been too.
Spike was tired..just tired. He still fought every night, like the Slayer, but he didn't remember why he fought. Most of the time he didn't even realize what he was doing. The other half he seemed to watch the punches, kicks, stakings, beheadings, and stabbings as if he were a detached observer, showing only a disdainful interest. But he fought and he didn't know why.
And some nights he cried and he didn't know why. Silent, broken sobs that left him drained and tired. He felt broken. And old. How old was he? The world hadn't changed so much, and it was difficult for him to mark the passing years without a reference point. There was no constant in his life except the killing. The killing, night after night, the killing. That never stopped. It was infinite, the killing, and he wondered sometimes, did he kill the Slayer? Did he kill her sweet sister? He just didn't know. He didn't think so, but one never could tell. He could barely remember them, much less what happened to them.
He could barely remember who he was. Spike, his name was Spike. And William. He had two names, and sometimes he didn't know which to answer to. But that was never really an issue because nobody every called for him.
No talking, no laughing, no singing, no love, no hate. He just existed, somewhere, alone. Alone.
On some of his more lucid days, he worried a great deal. He felt as though he should go back to the Hellmouth, if he could ever find it. He felt as though he was needed, that there was something or someone for him there. He just had to find his way again. At these times, he would panic and become frantic. But he didn't know what to do, and so eventually his determination to get back would whither and hibernate.. it never quite died. But he didn't know where he was, so how was he supposed to figure out where he was going.
Stake a vampire. Poof.
Oh. He was fighting. Ok, he looked around to see if he was fighting anybody else, but there were only piles of dust at his feet. Would he turn to dust when he died? Of course he would, that's what vampires do. But he felt human. It was the soul. Sometimes, in those lucid moments, Spike suspected that the confusion, the inability to do anything, to go home, was the soul's fault. It was hurting his head somehow.
That's why he didn't know his real name (Spike? William?) anymore. The soul was there, blanking everything else out, but how on Earth did a vampire get a soul? And why? He didn't know.
He knew one thing though, knew it for certain. This was torment. This existence and non-existence, being and not being. This was hell. Whatever he had done, he was sure he deserved it. But he didn't know how much longer he could last before he went for a walk into that enticing golden light, so much like the Slayer..He would probably go when he forgot her voice. If he forgot her, what possible reason could he have for existing?
Chapter 1.
"Spike, can you hear me?" Angel spoke loudly and slowly, hoping that this time there would be a reaction from the other, disheveled vampire. But Spike didn't respond. He never responded.
Buffy frowned, "What's wrong with him?"
Angel shrugged, "I really don't know."
"Why don't you tell me how you found him?" Buffy was torn between curiosity and disgust and hate and pity. God, this..this blank, sightless vampire sitting there surely wasn't her Spike?
'Since when has be been yours?' An inner-voice asked. 'Since forever,' her heart answered, and she sighed aloud.
"We were out, fighting a large gang of vampires. Suddenly, he appears out of nowhere. Gunn was going to stake him, and I was going to let him, until he started killing the vamps, single-handedly. When he was done, he turned around, and kept walking. He ignored us completely, so we followed him."
Spike twitched slightly, and mechanically reached out for the mug of blood that Angel had sat beside him nearly an hour earlier. He drank it in one gulp and gently set the mug down. His eyes never moved.
"Anyway, we kept an eye on him, and realized he had a routine. About three hours after sunset he would show up, dust as many vamps as he could within three hours, and then return to where ever he was holing up," Angel explained.
"Does he still do that?"
Angel nodded and looked at the clock. "He should be heading out in about 15 minutes. But Buffy..you should see the way he fights."
"What do you mean?"
"He fights like a robot, his expression completely blank. But every once in awhile, his face will clear and he'll look surprised, like he didn't realize he was fighting."
"Why did you call me?"
"Spike overheard us when we were discussing what to do with him. I mentioned your name, and he actually smiled. Since it's the only reaction.."Angel shrugged. "We didn't know what else to do. Buffy, why would he smile for you?"
It was a legitimate question, made perfect sense. Angel didn't know that the only thing Spike ever smiled for was her. Angel didn't know that Spike stopped smiling because of her. Angel didn't know anything.
"It's..it's a long story. Can we talk about it later?" Buffy said softly. Angel nodded. Both of them looking at the vampire who stared at the wall past them. Buffy lapsed into her own memories. Had it really been ten years since he walked out? Since she let him go? What had happened to him in those ten years? He looked broken. Did she break him.
"Do you want anything to eat or anything?"
"I'll have a glass of water," Buffy said quietly. She wasn't thirsty, but she wanted a second alone with Spike without Angel hovering over her shoulder. When Angel left the room, Buffy kneeled in front of Spike and gently stroked his cheek. "Where ya been, Blondie?"
Only his hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was a honey brown, long, and very dirty. Obviously showering wasn't part of his daily routine. His clothes were clean, but that was because Angel had got him some new ones. Apparently whatever he was wearing before stunk something awful. Spike didn't respond to her question. She continued to rub his face gently.
"Oh Spike, what did you do? What happened.."
**** "..here?" Buffy demanded angrily.
Spike shrugged, "I had an accident."
"This doesn't look like an accident, Spike. It looks like you destroyed Giles house."
"Well, I didn't mean to destroy his house," Spike said defensively, "I was just redecorating."
"Who said you could redecorate? And who said you could be untied?"
Spike looked slightly sheepish, "Supernatural strength, Slayer. I got tired of being tied up so," he held his hands out, "I'm not tied up anymore."
Buffy sighed, "Well, we're going to have to fix that."
"No, no," Spike insisted, "I'll be good."
"Spike, it's too late for that. Look at this mess!"
Spike obediently looked around Giles' trashed living room. "Ok, I admit, it doesn't look good. But I'll clean it up."
"Oh, I know you will. Because if you don't, Giles will have to sweep you up before he puts his house back together," Buffy's voice was cold and serious. Spike immediately set to work.
"Aren't you going to help, Slayer?"
"No, Spike. I'm going to watch." She perched on the couch, once Spike righted it, and twirled her stake lazily.
He leered at her, "You like to watch Slayer? Kinky."
"Less talk, Chippy, more work."
They were silent for several minutes as Spike dusted up the broken glass under Buffy's watchful eye. She sighed and wondered what he had broken.. no matter how much Spike cleaned, Giles would still have a conniption when he got home. She doubted she'd be able to stop her watcher from staking his undead ass.
Of course, she was forced to wonder why she even cared if Giles staked his undead ass. She'd never admit it out loud, but she was kinda starting to like the blonde menace..in an annoying, I'm going to kill him kind of way.
"Giles is going to kill you, you know," Buffy said conversationally as she watched Spike carefully replace his bottles of scotch. Most of them were nearly empty. The floor wasn't wet, so Buffy was left to believe that Spike had finished them off himself. Yep, Giles would freak.
"Good," Spike muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Buffy asked, still twirling the stake.
"I said good Slayer!"
"You wanna die Spike?"
"Yeah."
Buffy frowned. That didn't sound like Spike. He agreed to be tied up in the bathtub specifically because he didn't want to die. His sense of self- preservation was so strong tht he turned to his mortal enemies for help. Now he was willing to give up.
"Why?"
Spike paused and looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Because," he said slowly, "I can't hunt, can't feed, can't kill, and apparently, I can't even make a mess without being forced to clean it up."
Buffy nodded in sympathy, "The Big Bad is reduced to the Kind of Naughty."
Spike growled, "Shut up. I don't need to hear it from you. I should be ripping your throat out."
Buffy laughed, "Yeah."
"It's not funny Slayer."
The smiled didn't leave her face, "Of course not. Never said it was."
Spike sighed, "So where's your gang of losers."
"Out," She said, her smile suddenly gone.
"Huh?"
"They all have dates tonight."
Spike's frown disappeared as quickly as Buffy's smile had. "Really? So you're left all alone huh?"
Buffy shrugged, "I don't mind."
"No more school boys for you?"
"Shut up Spike."
"I can't say I blame them," he continued, "you probably broke the last one."
"Spike." her voice held a very serious warning, but Spike pressed on anyway. What did he care?
"It's ok. Mortal boys are so weak. And disappointing. He probably lasted what? 10, 15 minutes tops?" Spike smirked, "You need a real man. One that won't run out on you in the morning."
Buffy paused..it was closer to 7 or 8. Parker was a jerk and bad in bed. And Angel..
"Hit a nerve there, Slayer?" Spike asked when she didn't respond.
"Spike, just shut up." All of a sudden Buffy was very, very tired. She had been extremely lonely since Angel left. She put on a brave face and didn't cry anymore, but he was more than just her boyfriend. He was her best friend. She was so lonely that she was seriously beginning to think about going out with Riley, even though he was kind of boring. But normal.
Spike finished cleaning the kitchen, and slowly approached Buffy. She didn't seem to notice him though. He knew she was thinking about Angel. He wanted her to think about Angel. He wanted her to be in as much pain as he was. She deserved it, the bitch, walking around here all high and mighty, threatening him and.Jesus fuck, was that a tear?
"Got something in your eye?" Spike asked casually, still moving towards her slowly.
She blinked furiously, "Yeah, piece of dust."
"Uh huh."
"Take another step, and I'll have a whole faceful of dust."
"You don't mean it Buffy," his voice was soft now, deep, almost resonating inside of her. Did she mean it? God, she didn't know.
"How do you know?" Her voice was calm, sure.
"Cuz you want me to do this," Spike said, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek. His touch was feather light, almost like a breath of air.
"No, I really don't." But she didn't shy away from his fingers.
"Yes," his voice was a whisper now and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, "you really do."
Did he want to kiss her next? He looked like he wanted to kiss her. Would she let him? God, was she moving closer to him? This was insane, he couldn't do this. She wouldn't let him. Yep, any second now she was going to pull away, but his mouth just got closer and closer to hers and her mouth was dry..and Giles burst into his house.
"What the hell did you do Spike?"
Buffy jumped up, guiltily, but Spike just took a step back with an air of nonchalance.
"He got free," Buffy explained lamely.
"How?"
"He just.."
****
".got up and walked away," Buffy announced.
"Did you try to stop him?" Angel asked.
"No, I wanted to follow him."
"Ok, let's go."
They followed him down dark, deserted streets. They watched him fight, never helping or getting in his way. They were afraid he would stake Angel by mistake. Buffy was rather disturbed by what she saw. He was a killing machine. That's all. Fight, fight, stake, move on. There was no fire, no passion, no real purpose.
Spike had always been a very passionate fighter. He was in his element, came alive, so to speak. Spike was passionate in everything he did, of course, but fighting was something special. Beautiful. Warm. But now it was cold and ugly. These deaths were so detached, so without purpose, that Buffy felt a little sick over it.
"How long does he do this?" Buffy asked finally.
Angel shrugged, "He should be done within the hour."
"He only fights vampires?"
"If he runs into a demon he'll take it out, but he only searches for vamps."
"Humans?"
"Doesn't even see them."
"Well, that's something."
"Yeah."
Spike suddenly turned on his heal and headed back to Angel's hotel. "Guess it's time to go home," Buffy said wryly.
As they walked, Spike about 5 yards a head of them, they discussed what they should do with him.
"We could just let him alone."
"What do you mean?"
"He's helping us, and he's not hurting anybody," Angel pointed out, "Why does he need to change."
"Because he's broken Angel."
"When he's fixed, Buffy, he's a killer. Cold hearted murderer."
"No," Buffy said softly. "He's cold hearted right now. Spike has..
*** "Fire." Spike announced.
"What?" Buffy asked.
"Fire. Why don't you just use fire."
Buffy frowned, "What are you talking about?"
"Fire bomb Adam's cave. It won't kill him, but it'll ruin all his pretty toys."
"How do you know about his evil toys?"
Spike shrugged but didn't answer. Buffy regarded him suspiciously. Ever since their almost kiss, Spike had been helpful, in his own evil way. He'd ignore them for hours, days even, and then out of nowhere announce a plan. Most of the time his plans weren't bad.
"Xander, do you think we could get some grenades?"
Xander shrugged, "I could try. If you really want to, though do you really think you can trust any of his plans?"
Buffy sighed, frustrated. "His plan is to melt.uh Spike, what are we melting?"
"Computers mostly."
"Ok, his plan is to melt computers with big balls of fire. What's to trust?"
"But how will that stop him?" Xander demanded.
Spike shrugged, "It'll definitely put a crimp or a dozen in his plans."
"Great," Buffy announced, "And since it's your idea, you can come with me tonight and do some recon."
"Ok."
That was another thing. He didn't argue very much either. That was fine by her. It's not like she wanted to argue with him, right? It's not like their arguments made her heart beat faster and her palms sweaty, and her stomach tingle.
"We'll leave now."
"Weren't you going on a date with Riley tonight?" Willow asked, and Spike grimaced.
"Oh..yeah. Well, tell him that I'll meet him later in the Bronze. He'll understand. Come on Spike."
Well, she hoped Riley would understand. Lately had been slightly touchy about how much she had patrolled. Ok, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she had been patrolling with Spike. But to be fair, that wasn't exactly her idea. Giles had insisted that she get him out of the house to work off some energy. Riley didn't understand why she kept protecting the vampire from the Initiative. Honestly, neither did Buffy.
They were in the middle of Shady Rest cemetery, Buffy deep in thought about Riley, when she felt herself being pushed against the side of a crypt. Her back pressed into the cold, concrete wall, damp from an earlier rainstorm. Her first reaction was to fight, to push Spike away from her and maybe drive a stake through his heart when he motioned for her to be quiet. Thinking they were in some sort of danger, she stilled her struggles. He applied more pressure, keeping her pinned with his arm.
"What? Is something coming?" Buffy whispered.
Spike smiled, "Nothing coming, Slayer. Not yet."
"What?" Spike was close now, just a few inches from her face. His body was pressed against hers, and part of her liked it. He was hard and cool, his skin stretched tight against muscles coiled with tension. It felt good to feel her enemy, feel his strength. She always delighted in Angel's strength when they were together, and she kind of missed that. The slight danger, and the equality. "Your chip?"
"I'm not hurting you Slayer." His free hand traced her arm. "Am I?"
She shook her head. She knew she could push him away at any time, and this knowledge allowed her to relax slightly.
"What do you want Spike?"
"What you want."
"What's that?"
His face filled her vision. God his eyes were so blue. He was going to kiss her. Finally. Wait..finally? Whatever, it didn't matter, because now his lips were almost touching her, and she could smell him, and he smelt really good. And was she really going to allow the evil, undead vampire to kiss her? Was she really going to like it? There was time, she could stop him.
Oh, but she couldn't, because his lips touched hers and it felt very, very good. His lips tasted like the cool night, and they weren't harsh or demanding. They were searching and questioning, and Buffy was answering with her lips. On their own accord, her free hand snuck up and began rubbing his chest over his shirt. Slow circles directly above his heart.
Fire. Fire shot through her body. Spike was cold, but he was made of fire. As the kiss deepened, that was one coherent thought that refused to escape. Fire.
***
"Spike's has fire," she repeated. "We need to get it back."
TBC
