Chapter Seven: Spike

(The rating just went up. PG-13. Also, I've been listening to The Police and became inspired. So the next couple chapters have mentions of songs.)


"I have stood here before inside the pouring rain

With the world turning circles running 'round my brain

I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign

But it's my destiny to be the King of Pain" "King of Pain" written by Gordon M. Sumner aka Sting


He threw a couple of crumpled dollar bills onto the counter at the Circle K. "Keep the change" he muttered. The cashier took it nodding. He walked outside opened the pack of cigarettes, threw the wrapper on the ground, and lit one. He took a long drag. It had been almost three years since last he had one. Last time he had a cigarette was when he saw her. That night. That awful, wonderful night.

He'd been on a errand for Angel that night. After he came back, he went to Angel for help. Figured he'd know what to do. Bugger didn't, but offered, rather reluctantly, Spike a place to stay. Angel owned Wolfram & Hart, that evil law firm. Apparently, he and Lilah, the sultry CEO, made a deal. Angel came to work for them and he could give his son Connor a new life. Spike didn't understand a bit of it, but then again, he never really understood his grand-sire.

So, he had been doing lap dog work for Angel, trying not to think about Buffy, when a vampire jumped him from behind. Spike wrestled with the vamp for a good while when someone grabbed the vamp and dusted him quickly.

"Hey!" Spike said getting up and dusting himself off. "I was just about to..." he stopped. His rescuer was the last person he thought he'd ever see. Standing there, staring at him incredulously, was Buffy. "Buffy?" He took a step forward, and she took a step back.

"Who are you?" She demanded. Her face was eerily calm.

He didn't understand. He smiled, "Buffy, it's me." He took another step but she kept backing away.

She shook her head, "No, you died. Who the hell are you?"

"You're not making sense, Buffy," he was getting irritated. "Stop." She did and allowed him to approach her.

She looked into his eyes. Those intense, gray-blue eyes. "Spike?" She whispered. She reached up to touch him, but punched him in the nose, instead.

"Ow! Slayer! The nose!" He held his face, blood trickled from his nostril. She stalked away. He ran after her, "Buffy!" He grabbed her and turned her to face him.

"What the fuck!" She exclaimed. "How the hell?! Why...?! How are you here?!"

He wiped the blood. "Funny story, actually. Kind of long, so if you want to go get some coffee..."

"Don't give me that shit! You died. Explain," She crossed her arms.

"I would but... duck!" He shoved Buffy out of the way of an attacking vamp. He punched it and it went down. It jumped up and kicked Spike. Spike went flying and it went after Buffy again. Buffy kicked it a couple times. Spike jumped up, grabbed it and pulled out his stake.

"Stop!" She yelled before he staked it.

"Huh?" Spike and the vampire were confused.

She grabbed the vamp by the shirt collar and swung him around, plastering him against the side of the wall. "Tiny Tim," she said. "Tell me where he is."

"Go to hell, slayer," he spat.

"Been there," she grabbed Spike's stake from his hand and dug it into his chest. "Where. Is. He?"

"Okay! Okay! I might know something," he screamed. Buffy stopped. "He's not far. A joint called Hades."

"I know where that is," Spike spoke up.

"Thanks," Buffy smiled at the vamp and rammed the stake into him.

"Whoa. You've changed. The old slayer would've had a little more mercy," Spike commented.

"Don't talk to me," She said coldly. "Show me where this place is."

"Buffy..."

She flashed his eyes at him. She was pissed, so he backed off. "Okay, okay," he said putting his hands up. "I'll show you."


Spike flicked his cigarette butt, the ember disappeared into the shadows. He lit another. He had already gone through a third of his pack and was getting thirsty. Jumping off the hood of his car, he went back into the convenience store.

He went straight for the liquor cabinets. Nothing but beer and he needed something a helluva lot stronger.

"Jack Daniel's and another pack of Marlboros," He told the clerk. "Back again?" The guy got him a forty ounce and the cigarettes and put them in a brown paper bag.

Spike nodded and pulled out his money. "Never left," he said. "Shouldn't have left," he muttered under his breath. The clerk handed Spike the bag and Spike went back outside. He sat on top of the hood again of his '76 Monte Carlo. He twisted open the cap of the whiskey bottle and took a good swig. That was the stuff. It burned him as it coursed down his esophagus.


*** "You want a drink or something?" Spike asked her as they sat up on barstools. Spike took her to Hades, the demon bar the vamp had mentioned. She gave him a Look.

"Right," he beckoned for the bartender. "A glass of your finest for me and the bird." The bartender put two mugs of pale green liquid in front of Spike and Buffy.

Buffy made a face at the drink. "What the hell is this?"
"Yak piss," Spike replied. "Drink some."

"I am not drinking that. I came here for information," she said.

He rolled his eyes, "Hey mate," he called the bartender back over. "We're looking for this bloke, Tiny Tim. Owes me a dozen Gava beans. Y'seen him?"

"What do you want with Tiny Tim?" The vampire next to Buffy asked.

" 'Scuse me, but I believe I was talking to him," Spike said.

The vamp hopped off his barstool and approached Spike. "Well, now I'm talking to you."

"And yet, I don't care. So, sod off," Spike replied.

"Maybe you'll care when I take your girl away from you," he said grabbing Buffy's arm.

A smirk crept across Spike's face, "Big mistake."

Buffy grabbed the vamp's arm, twisted it back in a way that Spike could hear the bones snapping. She lifted him up by the throat and slammed him down on the bar. "He told you to sod off!" Buffy said.

"I knew it! Slayer!" The vampire managed to choke out. The entire room fell hush and turned to Spike, Buffy and the vamp.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered. He seized Buffy by the hand and ran out the door. The demonic mob chased them until Spike and Buffy doubled back and hid in a dumpster. When the coast was clear, they climbed out. Buffy started to head back to her motel room.

"Where you going?" He asked her.

"Back to my motel room." She kept walking. "I smell like garbage thanks to you," she replied.

"You're saying this is all my fault? I'm sorry, pet, but I'm not the slayer. I don't have evil beasties and Big Bads after me all the time."

She glared at him. "Shut up. Don't talk to me."

"I thought you wanted to know what happened to me," he said.

"Well, now I just don't care. So, go to hell Spike." She said.

"Buffy!" He jogged up to her. "C'mon, you can't just leave like this."

"You did."

"Oh yeah, I really had a choice as I was being burned from the inside out trying to save your beautiful arse!"

"Damnit Spike. Don't turn this around on me," She stopped. "You've been alive this entire time and you didn't try to find me or at least call me. How hard is it to pick up the phone and go 'Hallo Buffy?' " She said in a bad English accent.

" 'It's Spike, you know, the bastard who sacrificed himself for you. Well, I came back from the dead.'! " She started walking again.

Spike glowered at her, "That's right. I sacrificed myself for you and for your little Scooby gang and to save the world. Hell, Buffy, what do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Don't say anything. I don't want to see you ever again," she said. He watched her walk off, dumbfounded.


"I guess this our last good-bye

And you don't care so I won't cry

And you'll be sorry when I'm dead

And all this guilt will be on your head

I guess you'd call it suicide

But I'm too full to swallow my pride" "can't stand losing you" written by Gordon M. Sumner aka Sting


To be continued...