FOOLS FOR LIFE:

CHAPTER 33: INTO THE NIGHT

Spike climbed to Buffy's window as he knew Angel had done a hundred times. 'No, better not think of that right now. Focus,' he thought. He stayed quiet enough not to wake the rest of the house, but he made not too big an attempt to keep Buffy from hearing him. He knew she'd probably spot him anyway and the more he sounded like he was trying to prevent that, the more suspicious she'd be.

To his own surprise though, as he reached the window, he could tell she hadn't heard him at all. She was quite caught up......well, with herself. Her closets were open and a lot of clothes were spread out on the bed. She'd been going through her wardrobe. For what?

The answer became obvious when he saw her looking at herself in the mirror literally admiring herself. She was wearing her tight black sweater, the one with that bit a of a turtle neck, black leather pants and matching high heeled boots that made Spike always wonder if they were really that suitable for nightly demon fighting. And at the same time made him hope she'd never wonder about that herself and just keep right on wearing it! Ah well, those heels sure hurt when she kicked. He knew that first hand.

He was about to tap on the window, but couldn't help himself. To just see her like this, without her knowing it, her guard completely down....She was gorgeous. And she seemed to think so herself. She was striking poses in the mirror, turning her hips far around, checking out her butt as the leather hugged it tight, her fingers running over it, moving slowly back to her hips....

He had to swallow and worked hard on regaining his focus. And resist the temptation to spend the night in other ways. Between the graveyard and her little blood sucking last night, he suspected he could have them sweating and grunting without much effort. 'No!' he chided himself. 'Focus, you know why you're here! She's not herself. She's cursed! And it's your fault. Do what you have to do and don't think with your pecker now!'

He reminded himself that the reason she was suddenly digging her own looks so much was because of another little piece of him in her head. That helped. A bit. He took a deep breath (and one last good look) and gently tapped on the window.

Buffy looked up with alarm in her face. When she saw it was him she relaxed a bit, then got that 'stern-teacher' look in her face. She walked over to the window and opened it. Slightly.

"Spike! What are you doing here! We thought you were at your crypt or something, you just took off without a word!"

"Yeah well," he said, "all the talk was getting on fine without me. And you know me, never cared much for crowds."

"Well, what do you want now?" she said, a little embarrassed look coming over her as she realized he'd seen her 'admire' herself.

"Well, can I come in? It's kinda uncomfortable out here. Just wanted to see if you're alright," and he quickly added before she could say 'fine, go away, "I know you keep up a brave front for the Scoobies and the little bit, but you don't have to do that with me. I know the wires must be really screwed up inside there. And I know the 'how' and 'what' of that, because they're MY wires."

She sighed and looked at him.

"Come on. I won't be long, I promise," he said without lying.

"Alright, just be quick about it. I-I need to go to sleep." And with that she opened the window, walking away as he climbed in.

"Checking if everything still fits?" he said with a light tease in his voice, gesturing to the clothes on the bed.

"I know what it probably looks like, me all ....'into me'," she muttered, still a little embarrassed.

"I know what it feels like," he answered. She looked at him, not understanding.

"...to see you....and feel that. How beautiful you are."

He saw her eyes as she got it, lingering on him before looking away. Like they always did, with a look like she could be about to say "Oh Spike I love you" or "Oh you really do love me" or "Do you HAVE to say that crap". All with equal chance. It drove him mad.

She looked at herself in the mirror. "I just wanted to...enjoy it. While it lasts. Assuming I get cured but...this was a bonus. I've never been so bloody happy with myself."

"Right, cuz, you know, you're so ugly," he scoffed.

"No, Mr. Smartass, I don't think I'm ugly, but......well really, have you ever met a girl in your hundred years plus who was completely happy with herself?" She gestured to the bed. "All these outfits. Carefully picked. By me. And I happen to think I've got good taste. And all picked because I liked how they looked on me. But there's never been a moment when I looked in this mirror with any of those clothes on when I didn't see SOMETHING I hated. How it accented my thighs, how it made my butt look big, how it made my shoulders hang."

She looked at the mirror again. "And when I got stronger, I got more muscles, and then I'd feel I was too butch, and at the same time a little too bony....in...some points. But now, whatever I wear....I look great. I look better than every cover-girl-movie star I ever growled at while standing by the cash register! I just...wanted to enjoy that. Before my reflection is gone or something."

She sighed and put her hands behind her head. "Or...before I start looking differently."

"What do you mean?" Spike said, sensing there was something he'd missed.

"After you left, we were all in the living room....I got talking about Halfrek and what I'd like to do to her right now. And I got a little worked up. And suddenly everyone is looking at me in the freaky way. So I ask why. And they all start to stutter and scratch their heads or stare at the ceiling. Until Tara said...that I'd gotten a little bit..."

"What, luv?" Spike gently probed.

"....bumpy." She groaned, "My forehead had gotten bumpy as I got mad! My eyes even flashed a little yellow apparently! I freaked when they told me even though I didn't see it myself. And every time I look in the mirror to check or try..to get mad, and see what it does I just get side tracked by...."

"How beautiful you are," he smiled.

"So that's what I'll be at the end then......'Beautiful Buffy the Vampire, period'." She pulled a very pouty face.

He walked up to her from behind, slowly. He put his hand on her shoulders. They both looked in the mirror seeing only her. "You do look better than all those bints on the mag racks. I've always told you...now you can see for yourself. With my eyes."

Her face softened at that.....she didn't move as she felt his breath in her neck. "This is....really how you see me, huh?" she said softly.

"Yeah, luv, yeah it is."

As she thought about his words, she never noticed the slight movements he'd made inside his coat. Then he suddenly grabbed her with his left hand reaching around her from behind, pinning her, and shoving a handkerchief in her face with his right.

Her eyes grew wide as her hands grabbed his arm. Another split second and she would have thrown him off, but she didn't have another split second. Her eyes turned upward as her lids closed over them and he felt her go limp. Her muffled cry gone before it could really start. He removed the handkerchief and shoved it back in his pocket while holding her against him with one arm.

Her head fell against his neck and he gently brushed some locks away. "Sorry luv. Couldn't think of any other way."

It was funny really. He'd stumbled on a demon 'doctor' about a week ago. A particularly creepy kind that patched up wounded demons for a price. Demons for instance that managed to get away alive, after fighting Buffy or himself. He had traced a demon when he'd been on the hunt himself. He'd been in a bad mood and really needed to kill.

When he found the little 'office' in an abandoned shack, he'd killed both patient and doctor. Then he'd raided the place and come across some interesting stuff. He'd hoped it would help him. Booze wasn't cutting it anymore, so maybe some of the doc's heavier stuff would. He'd tried all kinds of things to dull himself, to not feel the sting of his broken heart. From very human valium to more exotic demon eyeballs in vinegar. Nothing had really helped.

That's when he'd gone to Anya to see if she had a spell or something.

But he'd remembered the box today when his plan had taken shape in the alley. One thing he hadn't used from his loot back then, because it didn't 'dull' you, all it did was just knock you out, render you practically comatose for a while. (Even though being in love with Buffy made that seem attractive sometimes.)

It was either this or try and knock her unconscious. Which would either result in a big fight and a big mess, or hitting her so hard maybe she'd be hurt. Neither of which an option. No, he knew he'd have time for one movement to catch her by surprise. Even with her being used to having him around and not expecting it, he knew there'd be no more than that. So with that one move it had to be over, leaving her out cold but unharmed.

So he'd shoved the bottle of chloroform in his coat, in case his was the best plan available at the end of the day. Which he believed was now the case.

He gently lowered her on the bed, face down. He knelt down and pulled up his pant legs, revealing several sets of handcuffs around both his ankles Those had been easier to hide.

He placed her arms together, behind her back, and put two sets of cuffs around her wrists. Then he put two more on her ankles. She wouldn't be happy when she woke, and he couldn't have her run off. Good thing he had quite a collection of these things. And they'd both been in them on several other occasions, all of which he preferred to this one.

He carefully lifted her up in his arms. The beauty and the beast. He looked at her peaceful face, her eyes closed, a lock of hair loosely over her forehead, her lipstick shiny in the lamp light. Then he sighed and walked out of the room, quietly.

He made his way downstairs pretty quickly. The Scoobies had neither vampire nor Slayer senses and were dead tired, so it wasn't that much of a task to leave unnoticed. And Harris' snoring was a good cover. He eased the front door open and carried her outside, quickly and quietly, disappearing in the darkness.

'Other side of town,' Anya had said. And she'd nudged to the right, which was east. 'Probably in a motel,' she'd said as well and that was likely. And in the east of town there was an area with several motels. Demons hung out there, or had some business dealings. Generally not too violent though. He'd make his way there and his nose would have to do the rest. He knew Halfrek's scent by now.

He never saw Dawn watching him leave from her window.

** **

TBC!

And now R-)