An AU fic (no Initiative, chipped vamps, or Riley! I left out Dawn too just
because). I will warn readers, there is a little bit of S/A in here, but
not all parties involved are willing.
Disclaimer: These characters are products of Joss Whedon and Co, but most of the stuff in this story is mine. You know, all the witty comebacks, sexually awkward situations, and rabid tattooed monkeys! Okay, okay, maybe not the rabid tattooed monkeys, but you're an intelligent fanfic reader, you get the point. Thanks to everyone involved with the creation of this story. The few, the proud, the insane.
Chapter Five: Soul Food for Thought
Buffy looked back worriedly as Xander's car roared away down the street away from where she stood. Much to her friend's dislike, at the vampire's mansion. If he tried making a U-turn it would take too much precious time to convince him to leave again. Not until the last sounds of the engine had died out did she take in a large breath of the night air and move forward, opening the door without hesitation. She moved through the deserted hallways with dread, clutching a stake with locked fingers. Only a few of the many items decorating the walls distracted her, namely the paintings. The subjects of all of them, from pastoral farm scenes to stuffy historical figures, had been destroyed with several wicked slashes. The Slayer rolled her eyes, never surprised by the taste in art vampires lacked.
Voices drew her attention in one of the upstairs rooms and she quietly opened the door, prepared to finish the fight she had came for. Instead, the scene numbed her, and she stayed silently by the door, unable to look away. Fortunately, neither could the vampires, as occupied as they were with their own pursuits.
Somebody was chained onto the bed, their naked body writhing in an attempt to break their bonds. Angelus was leaning over their captive, watching the man's eyes with an malignant captivation. And a man it was, evidenced by a view of his anatomy as his tormentor shifted his position to grab something from the nightstand. It was a knife, its silver blade glowing pale in the dim lights of the room. Even after it had been trailed down the prisoner's arm to draw blood, it still gleamed with a cold impassivity.
Movement from the corner of her eye drew Buffy's attention. Drusilla had emerged from the corner of the room to lap at the blood in a perfect trail down the muscled arm. Her pale eyes locked onto Buffy as she did so, but she said nothing, choosing to see but not reveal. Dropping her gaze with the vampiress, the Slayer considered helping the man but still could not move, her body as paralyzed by the dark scene as the voice of the man on the bed. Perhaps he was gagged but even that could not explain his absolute silence as he endured pain. Trust Angelus and Drusilla to pick a random victim from the streets and have him turn out to be a sadomasochist.
Angelus rose up from the bed and for a second Buffy was afraid she had been spotted but instead her ex-lover knelt by the side of the bed. The now unobstructed view of the chained man made all the pieces of the sick puzzle come together. It was Spike. His eyes were closed almost in denial of his situation but they flew open suddenly. Angelus was fingering his grandchilde's cock, and she couldn't look more than the second it took to identify what was happening. Instead, she looked at her ally's face, hoping to spare her face from getting any more red. She wished fervently that she could slip out of the room, but could not when she had a job to do.
The two vampires surrounding their youngest 'family' member were doing a thorough job, Drusilla now exploring the cut on her childe's arm with a knowing tongue and soft hands. As their combined efforts brought the bleached blonde vampire to the edge of orgasm, his gaze turned to the Slayer, but he seemed to see through her. Suddenly he was climaxing, all his muscles arching up from the double stimulation, and gasping out of habit. But around all this, he smiled, and it was not bittersweet like it should have been due to the pain and his loathing for Angelus. No, he smiled directly at her, and it was a new look on him, almost human, almost beautiful. This realization confused her, and her paralysis was broken. Buffy's muscles gave out on her, and she bumped loudly into the wall behind her.
Angelus snapped his head up with a snarl, rising from the bed. Striding towards her in all his nude fury, he was primeval and magnificent. Cursing herself for her apparent fascination with sexy vampires, she rolled to her feet and lunged at him, but he dodged her attack. She whirled around to face him yet again, only to find themselves outside, and her assailant fully clothed. Shaking off her dizziness, she ignored the scenery change and attacked like a madwoman. Everything she tried to throw at him seemed ineffective, and so their deadly round went on, oddly silent of all but her harsh breaths. Finally, she managed to position her stake and struck home, knowing it would be her only chance. At the last second, Angelus' enraged face morphed into Spike's.
"You've ripped my bloody favorite shirt!" he peevishly complained before dissolving into dust.
"They all look the same," Drusilla noted softly, her voice carrying words with many meanings.
The Slayer turned piercing eyes towards the other woman but did not move, sifting Spike's ashes through her hand in confusion.
"In the end, we are all the same." Angelus told her, suddenly standing next to her. "In the end, we are all ash."
"What?" Buffy said, her expression even more puzzled.
"You're just gonna be one with the mold and earth a bit sooner than you planned," he grinned, shifting into his vamp face and burying his fangs into her jugular.
She gasped hoarsely with all the breath she had left.and found herself in a twisted mound of sheets and comforters, throat still heaving with instinctive panic. She checked her alarm clock, seeing that it was really early in the morning. Dammit, she had to be to work in a few hours. She worked at the department store in the mall, and a girl would think they'd have enough help so she could come in late, but no!
Sighing, she got out of bed. Sleep was impossible after dreams like that. She just hoped they weren't true, because it was a little hard to deal with your own death. Padding to her kitchen for a warm drink, she started heating up water to make cider, but discarded the idea as she watched the tan powder fall into her mug.
"Ashes to ashes." Buffy murmured, dumping the contents down her sink without even taking a sip.
**********
"Ready, Dru?" Angelus said playfully, shaking his childe's shoulders lightly to jar her out of a trance.
"I've seen her!" the vampiress whispered excitedly. "She's perfect!"
"Who? The Slayer?" he asked quickly.
"No, no.a little girl who wants to pet the moon, but it won't come to play with her." Drusilla said, a enraptured smile on her lips. "We can give her the moon, my Angel."
"Lead the way, and she'll get more than she bargained for," the brown- haired vampire said with a grin.
Spike watched the pair of them go out the door, Dru skipping playfully. He shrugged and went back to try and sleep. He figured it would be better to let Angelus get the book so the Slayer could destroy it and her lover in one swoop. He knew it wasn't the best idea under the circumstances, but no plan was ever perfect. He'd have to find Buffy later and see if she had any other ideas. In the meantime, he retreated to his bedroom to get dressed. He could have his fun without Dru and Angelus. Just like they had their fun without him.
"This is so much fun!" Dru exulted as they strolled down the streets. "We're close to her, I can sense it."
"About time." Angelus grumbled, his eyes on the ground. He had seen plenty of girls that looked pure enough to get them inside to the Book. Hell, he had seen a few guys too, but Dru was set on using the one she had seen.
"There she is," the vampiress pointed, her scarlet talon pointing at a teenager sitting out on a curb near the Bronze.
The vampire looked the girl over. He hadn't thought she would be this old, but she certainly looked pure, one of those nerdy types. Her brown hair had a few daring highlights through it, and her blue eyes beneath glasses roamed the streets nervously, showing how uncomfortable she was. The couple approached her swiftly, Angelus hauling her up by the arms and Dru covering the mouth of the panicked girl.
"Hush, sweet." Dru cooed, her free hand stroking the teenager's hair comfortingly. "You'll sleep in the stars soon, and their lullaby is bloody and sweet."
"Dru, she's fainted." Angelus pointed out, smiling cruelly.
"Oh, poor thing." Drusilla said sympathetically, her eyes sliding over the girl's unconscious face, before an idea came to her. "She's pretty. Can we play dress-up with her?"
"Not now," the vampire reminded his childe. "We have to get the book with her to let us in."
"A shiny key," giggled the vampiress. "to let us have real games. But I still would like to dress up in her."
"Later, I promise." Angelus laughed, noticing the slight change in plans. Dru always had the most creative ideas.
The two of them, Angelus carrying the girl in his arms, ducked into Rosewood Cemetery to the sewer systems. It wouldn't be long until the prize was secured. Then the world would scream in pain. Unless, of course, they decided to take its voice away.
**********
"Watch that left hand, Slayer!" Spike said elsewhere in the same cemetery, watching Buffy fight a warlock who was about to unleash a spell with the aforementioned hand.
He figured this sorry wanker was after the Book too, and was all for letting the Slayer kick his ass. The spellbook would be safer if Dru and Angelus took it to the mansion. And who was he kidding? He could steal it easily if he needed to. It had been awhile since he had lifted something for fun.
"Thanks," she hollered as she dodged the energy ball, which went on to shatter a tombstone "But no thanks."
"A fellow would think you're antisocial, pet," the vampire grinned, his blue eyes laughing at her.
"Go lurk in some other shadow, Spike!" Buffy retorted, still trying to fight the elusive warlock. "I'm just fine!"
"Right," he said dubiously, before switching into some new voice with a sensuous undertone. "I can see the bruises right through those tight pants of yours."
She finally managed to get a blow to connect with the warlock's face and spared a glance towards her observer to see one really sexy smile. Quirking her eyebrow at the vampire, she failed to see that her opponent had gotten up, and so caught a blast of power in her stomach. She groaned and doubled over, but saw her enemy's feet rushing by, perhaps to make a break for it so he could get to the Forbidden Book. Deftly sliding a foot out, she tripped the man, causing him to strike his head on the ground and get knocked out.
Prideful, she straightened to her full height and walked over to where Spike stood. Then tripped over a tree root, to her chagrin. He moved to catch her before the ground did, and the moment made them uncomfortably close. Well, it wasn't the first time.
"Your nose was so high up in the air, small wonder you tripped," the bleached blonde vampire said uneasily, as uncertain what to do with the situation as she was. His grip on her arms shifted so she could take more of her own weight.
"Yeah." Buffy said half-heartedly, not even aware she was agreeing with him. Their eyes locked and couldn't seem to break apart. His gaze was magnetic, a melting ice-blue. He tore himself away first, helping her stand on balance before letting go of her wrists.
"By now, Angelus will have the Book," he said, suddenly informational like he was talking about something mundane, like the weather or the stock market, not the end of the world. And most definitely not about them. "Any plans, milady?"
"I say we go there tomorrow night and kick his ass," she said with conviction, her hazel eyes determined.
"There's the Slayer I know!" Spike grinned with delight. "As opposed to that ineptitude you just displayed..I thought you were going soft for a minute there."
"Don't get any ideas!" Buffy warned him, pretending that he was threatening to kill her again. But she was perfectly aware that he knew why she had been off guard. By staring at him. At him smiling! She shuddered, images from her dream coming unbidden.
"If I never had any ideas, I'd be dust by now.," the vampire said with a smirk, his eyes not looking at the Slayer but at another meal. "If you'll excuse me?"
He moved towards the unconscious warlock without bothering to ask permission. Buffy was stunned, and it took a second of staring at him before she realized he had vamped out and wasn't joking. Spike hauled the man up to his feet and was about to bite down when the Slayer tackled him from behind, causing all three to tumble to the ground. The warlock still didn't awaken.
"Do you mind?" the platinum blonde asked her angrily, yellow eyes flashing.
"Hi, I'm the Slayer!" Buffy snapped as they rose to their feet. "Sorry I forgot to grab my name badge before I left home."
"Ah, my diet." Spike shook his head, fading back into his human face.
"Yeah, your diet! I swear you are the master of understatement!" she shouted in exasperation.
"I'm famished, luv," he calmly explained as if there was no murder involved. "So unless you're offering?"
"You know, it's not too late to just stake you!" the Slayer mentioned, withdrawing the weapon in question and launching herself at Spike.
"Balls!" the vampire cursed loudly as he dodged her attack. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What I should have when you came back." Buffy said menacingly as she charged towards him again.
"Fine, then bloody finish it!" he said, stopping dead in his tracks and immediately wondering what was wrong with him. What was with the sudden death wish?
The Slayer had no time to stop her attack before she crashed into a motionless vampire. They ended up on the ground, her hands curled around his biceps to brace herself. She looked down on him to see what had come over him and saw only confusion to mirror her own. Not sure if she was making a mistake or not, she dropped the stake resignedly. She tightened her grip on his arms to get leverage to stand, and he immediately hissed in pain.
"Oh.arms! I'm so sorry!" she apologized as she remembered yesterday in the car. And the knife wounds from her dream. Was her vision true after all? "Let me look at them."
"They'd get better sooner if you'd let me feed." Spike snarled resentfully. If he had been in this situation a couple days ago he would have been drinking the Slayer's blood and the fact that he wasn't was pissing him off royally. Screw that measly magic-user, that one was just appetizer material.
"We've already been over this." Buffy said sternly, but her fingers gentle as she examined his arm. There were still several cuts, any one of them a candidate for the one from her dream. She gave up with a sigh, deciding she had seen a mixture of truth and falsehood. "And before you mention it again, I'm not on the menu."
"Let me ask you something," her companion responded thoughtfully as he got to his feet. "You've never been fed on by a vampire, have you?"
"Not recently, " she answered, her look one of amazement at his stupidity. She was still alive, wasn't she?
"Well, Angelus would be more than happy to do you up right." Spike said, eyes cruel as he twisted his words like a knife to bloody her. "I'll let him know."
Buffy just stared at her ally, at a loss for words. Maybe he was trying to make up for his moment of weakness in their fight, but the level of hatred he carried in his entire posture right now was too much. Considering their earlier bantering, his mood change was frightening. Then, of course, she had attacked him when she could have negotiated. He was practically bristling because she had not given him the respect he had partially earned. 'Time to make up, Buffy.'
"Would you really?" the Slayer asked him, expression startled. "I thought."
"Hey, you're the one who broke truce, don't look at me like that!" the vampire defended himself with an unpleasant smile. "And giving you to Angel is the best way to get back into the fold, you have to admit."
"There was one time I thought he'd have to feed on me." Buffy revealed, changing the topic with a rueful sigh. She wasn't sure why she was telling him this, but he had been honest about wanting to betray her, so hell, why not? "During the Ascension, a rogue Slayer named Faith poisoned him to distract me from stopping the Mayor. The only cure was Slayer's blood. So I went after Faith and Angel drained her dry.but if I had failed to bring her, it would have been me."
"And you would have let him." Spike finished the story, head cocked to the side in curiosity and his eyes full of dark knowledge.
"Yes," she whispered with faraway eyes, before gesturing towards the warlock. "Have a little if you want."
The vampire raised a brow in surprise, but moved away at the prompting of his empty stomach and the pain in the Slayer's eyes. Drinking just enough to whet his appetite, he let the man fall back down and licked his mouth clean. The Slayer had developed a sudden fixation on the ground, obviously not wanting to watch.
"So, how does it feel to fail your sacred duty?" Spike teased, feeling like himself again.
"He was really annoying me anyway." Buffy explained, feeling more comfortable now that he wasn't in sadistic mode. "I don't understand why your soul lets you do that but maybe."
"Oh, so we're getting into this?" he interrupted with a short laugh. "Well, let me start by reminding you that the living kill as well."
"Yes, Spike. They're called serial killers," she said patronizingly.
"And they have souls, don't they?" the vampire demanded with fierce blue eyes.
"Well, yeah." Buffy was forced to admit. "Their problem is that they don't care about their fellow man. Or they're psychotic. "
"But what you're saying is that though they have a soul, they are still evil and can't feel."
"Uh, yeah, that about sums it up," she grudgingly responded, knowing she was verbally trapped.
"Follow my logic." Spike ordered, grinning widely. "If they are souled and evil, obviously the soul and morality are not connected."
"Meaning?" she shot back impatiently.
"Meaning it's not a given that I'm evil and unfeeling," the vampire concluded.
Buffy gestured at the half-drained warlock with one eloquent hand.
"Nature, luv. I have to eat something," he chuckled. "How is he any different from the beef you had for dinner? Just because you didn't slaughter it personally doesn't change that a cow died. And for the record, I didn't kill him."
"Wait, so you can't kill now?" she asked, almost triumphantly.
"Well, I could have offed him," Spike replied slowly, actually thinking about the question. "But my shiny new soul doesn't interfere with a damn thing I feel like doing. Just sits there, and I suppose I'm not crying over it cuz it's not really mine."
"So why aren't you trying to kill me right now?" the Slayer questioned him, lifting a stake as she said more thoughtfully. "Why am I not killing you?"
"Killing Angelus, remember? I've played nice," the bleached vampire said with a rakish smile, his voice dripping with promises and sensuality. Buffy almost hated him for it. "Unless you fancy another round to reassure that all vampires are evil."
"You are," the Slayer glared balefully, letting him know he wasn't playing nice anymore.
"You have the right of it." Spike continued without noticing her outburst, still sidling closer. "I am pretty wicked myself."
"Exactly!" she exploded, halting his advance. "So don't tell me you care about anything."
"I do, pet," he answered, suddenly solemn.
He reached out a callused hand and touched her cheek in an oddly sweet, intimate gesture. She stiffened at first, but relaxed, surprised at how comfortable it felt. She barely noticed he was still talking, her skin tingling at his touch. Wait, this was Spike, right? She really needed therapy.
"To feel is a choice, not to do with souls or anything else," her ally was explaining. "I choose. Angelus does not."
"Angel feels!" Buffy shot back, wrenching herself away from Spike's touch.
"Angel is forced to feel by an especially active soul!" Spike growled, amazed that they were arguing yet again. Or still arguing, as was more accurate.
"And you, I suppose." she sputtered in rage, hazel eyes narrowed.
"I? I am sick of this study of my nature!" the platinum blonde vampire yelled. "If you need another pussy-whipped, broody vampire to shag, for the love of God don't look at me!"
Buffy looked at him, obviously hurt and shocked at the turn the discussion had taken. Defiant, Spike stared right back at her, unwilling to take back his comment while he was still so angry. But that rage evaporated when he saw how watery the Slayer's eyes had become.
"Buffy, I." he started to apologize, but she wouldn't let him.
"Don't call me that!" she snarled, eyes as hateful as his had been most of the evening.
Whipping around without another word, she ran out of the cemetery, obviously trying to avoid tears until she got home. He just had to rip that scab open, didn't he?
"Bollocks. That certainly went well." Spike grumbled to himself as he picked up the stake that had started this whole mess and started home.
Disclaimer: These characters are products of Joss Whedon and Co, but most of the stuff in this story is mine. You know, all the witty comebacks, sexually awkward situations, and rabid tattooed monkeys! Okay, okay, maybe not the rabid tattooed monkeys, but you're an intelligent fanfic reader, you get the point. Thanks to everyone involved with the creation of this story. The few, the proud, the insane.
Chapter Five: Soul Food for Thought
Buffy looked back worriedly as Xander's car roared away down the street away from where she stood. Much to her friend's dislike, at the vampire's mansion. If he tried making a U-turn it would take too much precious time to convince him to leave again. Not until the last sounds of the engine had died out did she take in a large breath of the night air and move forward, opening the door without hesitation. She moved through the deserted hallways with dread, clutching a stake with locked fingers. Only a few of the many items decorating the walls distracted her, namely the paintings. The subjects of all of them, from pastoral farm scenes to stuffy historical figures, had been destroyed with several wicked slashes. The Slayer rolled her eyes, never surprised by the taste in art vampires lacked.
Voices drew her attention in one of the upstairs rooms and she quietly opened the door, prepared to finish the fight she had came for. Instead, the scene numbed her, and she stayed silently by the door, unable to look away. Fortunately, neither could the vampires, as occupied as they were with their own pursuits.
Somebody was chained onto the bed, their naked body writhing in an attempt to break their bonds. Angelus was leaning over their captive, watching the man's eyes with an malignant captivation. And a man it was, evidenced by a view of his anatomy as his tormentor shifted his position to grab something from the nightstand. It was a knife, its silver blade glowing pale in the dim lights of the room. Even after it had been trailed down the prisoner's arm to draw blood, it still gleamed with a cold impassivity.
Movement from the corner of her eye drew Buffy's attention. Drusilla had emerged from the corner of the room to lap at the blood in a perfect trail down the muscled arm. Her pale eyes locked onto Buffy as she did so, but she said nothing, choosing to see but not reveal. Dropping her gaze with the vampiress, the Slayer considered helping the man but still could not move, her body as paralyzed by the dark scene as the voice of the man on the bed. Perhaps he was gagged but even that could not explain his absolute silence as he endured pain. Trust Angelus and Drusilla to pick a random victim from the streets and have him turn out to be a sadomasochist.
Angelus rose up from the bed and for a second Buffy was afraid she had been spotted but instead her ex-lover knelt by the side of the bed. The now unobstructed view of the chained man made all the pieces of the sick puzzle come together. It was Spike. His eyes were closed almost in denial of his situation but they flew open suddenly. Angelus was fingering his grandchilde's cock, and she couldn't look more than the second it took to identify what was happening. Instead, she looked at her ally's face, hoping to spare her face from getting any more red. She wished fervently that she could slip out of the room, but could not when she had a job to do.
The two vampires surrounding their youngest 'family' member were doing a thorough job, Drusilla now exploring the cut on her childe's arm with a knowing tongue and soft hands. As their combined efforts brought the bleached blonde vampire to the edge of orgasm, his gaze turned to the Slayer, but he seemed to see through her. Suddenly he was climaxing, all his muscles arching up from the double stimulation, and gasping out of habit. But around all this, he smiled, and it was not bittersweet like it should have been due to the pain and his loathing for Angelus. No, he smiled directly at her, and it was a new look on him, almost human, almost beautiful. This realization confused her, and her paralysis was broken. Buffy's muscles gave out on her, and she bumped loudly into the wall behind her.
Angelus snapped his head up with a snarl, rising from the bed. Striding towards her in all his nude fury, he was primeval and magnificent. Cursing herself for her apparent fascination with sexy vampires, she rolled to her feet and lunged at him, but he dodged her attack. She whirled around to face him yet again, only to find themselves outside, and her assailant fully clothed. Shaking off her dizziness, she ignored the scenery change and attacked like a madwoman. Everything she tried to throw at him seemed ineffective, and so their deadly round went on, oddly silent of all but her harsh breaths. Finally, she managed to position her stake and struck home, knowing it would be her only chance. At the last second, Angelus' enraged face morphed into Spike's.
"You've ripped my bloody favorite shirt!" he peevishly complained before dissolving into dust.
"They all look the same," Drusilla noted softly, her voice carrying words with many meanings.
The Slayer turned piercing eyes towards the other woman but did not move, sifting Spike's ashes through her hand in confusion.
"In the end, we are all the same." Angelus told her, suddenly standing next to her. "In the end, we are all ash."
"What?" Buffy said, her expression even more puzzled.
"You're just gonna be one with the mold and earth a bit sooner than you planned," he grinned, shifting into his vamp face and burying his fangs into her jugular.
She gasped hoarsely with all the breath she had left.and found herself in a twisted mound of sheets and comforters, throat still heaving with instinctive panic. She checked her alarm clock, seeing that it was really early in the morning. Dammit, she had to be to work in a few hours. She worked at the department store in the mall, and a girl would think they'd have enough help so she could come in late, but no!
Sighing, she got out of bed. Sleep was impossible after dreams like that. She just hoped they weren't true, because it was a little hard to deal with your own death. Padding to her kitchen for a warm drink, she started heating up water to make cider, but discarded the idea as she watched the tan powder fall into her mug.
"Ashes to ashes." Buffy murmured, dumping the contents down her sink without even taking a sip.
**********
"Ready, Dru?" Angelus said playfully, shaking his childe's shoulders lightly to jar her out of a trance.
"I've seen her!" the vampiress whispered excitedly. "She's perfect!"
"Who? The Slayer?" he asked quickly.
"No, no.a little girl who wants to pet the moon, but it won't come to play with her." Drusilla said, a enraptured smile on her lips. "We can give her the moon, my Angel."
"Lead the way, and she'll get more than she bargained for," the brown- haired vampire said with a grin.
Spike watched the pair of them go out the door, Dru skipping playfully. He shrugged and went back to try and sleep. He figured it would be better to let Angelus get the book so the Slayer could destroy it and her lover in one swoop. He knew it wasn't the best idea under the circumstances, but no plan was ever perfect. He'd have to find Buffy later and see if she had any other ideas. In the meantime, he retreated to his bedroom to get dressed. He could have his fun without Dru and Angelus. Just like they had their fun without him.
"This is so much fun!" Dru exulted as they strolled down the streets. "We're close to her, I can sense it."
"About time." Angelus grumbled, his eyes on the ground. He had seen plenty of girls that looked pure enough to get them inside to the Book. Hell, he had seen a few guys too, but Dru was set on using the one she had seen.
"There she is," the vampiress pointed, her scarlet talon pointing at a teenager sitting out on a curb near the Bronze.
The vampire looked the girl over. He hadn't thought she would be this old, but she certainly looked pure, one of those nerdy types. Her brown hair had a few daring highlights through it, and her blue eyes beneath glasses roamed the streets nervously, showing how uncomfortable she was. The couple approached her swiftly, Angelus hauling her up by the arms and Dru covering the mouth of the panicked girl.
"Hush, sweet." Dru cooed, her free hand stroking the teenager's hair comfortingly. "You'll sleep in the stars soon, and their lullaby is bloody and sweet."
"Dru, she's fainted." Angelus pointed out, smiling cruelly.
"Oh, poor thing." Drusilla said sympathetically, her eyes sliding over the girl's unconscious face, before an idea came to her. "She's pretty. Can we play dress-up with her?"
"Not now," the vampire reminded his childe. "We have to get the book with her to let us in."
"A shiny key," giggled the vampiress. "to let us have real games. But I still would like to dress up in her."
"Later, I promise." Angelus laughed, noticing the slight change in plans. Dru always had the most creative ideas.
The two of them, Angelus carrying the girl in his arms, ducked into Rosewood Cemetery to the sewer systems. It wouldn't be long until the prize was secured. Then the world would scream in pain. Unless, of course, they decided to take its voice away.
**********
"Watch that left hand, Slayer!" Spike said elsewhere in the same cemetery, watching Buffy fight a warlock who was about to unleash a spell with the aforementioned hand.
He figured this sorry wanker was after the Book too, and was all for letting the Slayer kick his ass. The spellbook would be safer if Dru and Angelus took it to the mansion. And who was he kidding? He could steal it easily if he needed to. It had been awhile since he had lifted something for fun.
"Thanks," she hollered as she dodged the energy ball, which went on to shatter a tombstone "But no thanks."
"A fellow would think you're antisocial, pet," the vampire grinned, his blue eyes laughing at her.
"Go lurk in some other shadow, Spike!" Buffy retorted, still trying to fight the elusive warlock. "I'm just fine!"
"Right," he said dubiously, before switching into some new voice with a sensuous undertone. "I can see the bruises right through those tight pants of yours."
She finally managed to get a blow to connect with the warlock's face and spared a glance towards her observer to see one really sexy smile. Quirking her eyebrow at the vampire, she failed to see that her opponent had gotten up, and so caught a blast of power in her stomach. She groaned and doubled over, but saw her enemy's feet rushing by, perhaps to make a break for it so he could get to the Forbidden Book. Deftly sliding a foot out, she tripped the man, causing him to strike his head on the ground and get knocked out.
Prideful, she straightened to her full height and walked over to where Spike stood. Then tripped over a tree root, to her chagrin. He moved to catch her before the ground did, and the moment made them uncomfortably close. Well, it wasn't the first time.
"Your nose was so high up in the air, small wonder you tripped," the bleached blonde vampire said uneasily, as uncertain what to do with the situation as she was. His grip on her arms shifted so she could take more of her own weight.
"Yeah." Buffy said half-heartedly, not even aware she was agreeing with him. Their eyes locked and couldn't seem to break apart. His gaze was magnetic, a melting ice-blue. He tore himself away first, helping her stand on balance before letting go of her wrists.
"By now, Angelus will have the Book," he said, suddenly informational like he was talking about something mundane, like the weather or the stock market, not the end of the world. And most definitely not about them. "Any plans, milady?"
"I say we go there tomorrow night and kick his ass," she said with conviction, her hazel eyes determined.
"There's the Slayer I know!" Spike grinned with delight. "As opposed to that ineptitude you just displayed..I thought you were going soft for a minute there."
"Don't get any ideas!" Buffy warned him, pretending that he was threatening to kill her again. But she was perfectly aware that he knew why she had been off guard. By staring at him. At him smiling! She shuddered, images from her dream coming unbidden.
"If I never had any ideas, I'd be dust by now.," the vampire said with a smirk, his eyes not looking at the Slayer but at another meal. "If you'll excuse me?"
He moved towards the unconscious warlock without bothering to ask permission. Buffy was stunned, and it took a second of staring at him before she realized he had vamped out and wasn't joking. Spike hauled the man up to his feet and was about to bite down when the Slayer tackled him from behind, causing all three to tumble to the ground. The warlock still didn't awaken.
"Do you mind?" the platinum blonde asked her angrily, yellow eyes flashing.
"Hi, I'm the Slayer!" Buffy snapped as they rose to their feet. "Sorry I forgot to grab my name badge before I left home."
"Ah, my diet." Spike shook his head, fading back into his human face.
"Yeah, your diet! I swear you are the master of understatement!" she shouted in exasperation.
"I'm famished, luv," he calmly explained as if there was no murder involved. "So unless you're offering?"
"You know, it's not too late to just stake you!" the Slayer mentioned, withdrawing the weapon in question and launching herself at Spike.
"Balls!" the vampire cursed loudly as he dodged her attack. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What I should have when you came back." Buffy said menacingly as she charged towards him again.
"Fine, then bloody finish it!" he said, stopping dead in his tracks and immediately wondering what was wrong with him. What was with the sudden death wish?
The Slayer had no time to stop her attack before she crashed into a motionless vampire. They ended up on the ground, her hands curled around his biceps to brace herself. She looked down on him to see what had come over him and saw only confusion to mirror her own. Not sure if she was making a mistake or not, she dropped the stake resignedly. She tightened her grip on his arms to get leverage to stand, and he immediately hissed in pain.
"Oh.arms! I'm so sorry!" she apologized as she remembered yesterday in the car. And the knife wounds from her dream. Was her vision true after all? "Let me look at them."
"They'd get better sooner if you'd let me feed." Spike snarled resentfully. If he had been in this situation a couple days ago he would have been drinking the Slayer's blood and the fact that he wasn't was pissing him off royally. Screw that measly magic-user, that one was just appetizer material.
"We've already been over this." Buffy said sternly, but her fingers gentle as she examined his arm. There were still several cuts, any one of them a candidate for the one from her dream. She gave up with a sigh, deciding she had seen a mixture of truth and falsehood. "And before you mention it again, I'm not on the menu."
"Let me ask you something," her companion responded thoughtfully as he got to his feet. "You've never been fed on by a vampire, have you?"
"Not recently, " she answered, her look one of amazement at his stupidity. She was still alive, wasn't she?
"Well, Angelus would be more than happy to do you up right." Spike said, eyes cruel as he twisted his words like a knife to bloody her. "I'll let him know."
Buffy just stared at her ally, at a loss for words. Maybe he was trying to make up for his moment of weakness in their fight, but the level of hatred he carried in his entire posture right now was too much. Considering their earlier bantering, his mood change was frightening. Then, of course, she had attacked him when she could have negotiated. He was practically bristling because she had not given him the respect he had partially earned. 'Time to make up, Buffy.'
"Would you really?" the Slayer asked him, expression startled. "I thought."
"Hey, you're the one who broke truce, don't look at me like that!" the vampire defended himself with an unpleasant smile. "And giving you to Angel is the best way to get back into the fold, you have to admit."
"There was one time I thought he'd have to feed on me." Buffy revealed, changing the topic with a rueful sigh. She wasn't sure why she was telling him this, but he had been honest about wanting to betray her, so hell, why not? "During the Ascension, a rogue Slayer named Faith poisoned him to distract me from stopping the Mayor. The only cure was Slayer's blood. So I went after Faith and Angel drained her dry.but if I had failed to bring her, it would have been me."
"And you would have let him." Spike finished the story, head cocked to the side in curiosity and his eyes full of dark knowledge.
"Yes," she whispered with faraway eyes, before gesturing towards the warlock. "Have a little if you want."
The vampire raised a brow in surprise, but moved away at the prompting of his empty stomach and the pain in the Slayer's eyes. Drinking just enough to whet his appetite, he let the man fall back down and licked his mouth clean. The Slayer had developed a sudden fixation on the ground, obviously not wanting to watch.
"So, how does it feel to fail your sacred duty?" Spike teased, feeling like himself again.
"He was really annoying me anyway." Buffy explained, feeling more comfortable now that he wasn't in sadistic mode. "I don't understand why your soul lets you do that but maybe."
"Oh, so we're getting into this?" he interrupted with a short laugh. "Well, let me start by reminding you that the living kill as well."
"Yes, Spike. They're called serial killers," she said patronizingly.
"And they have souls, don't they?" the vampire demanded with fierce blue eyes.
"Well, yeah." Buffy was forced to admit. "Their problem is that they don't care about their fellow man. Or they're psychotic. "
"But what you're saying is that though they have a soul, they are still evil and can't feel."
"Uh, yeah, that about sums it up," she grudgingly responded, knowing she was verbally trapped.
"Follow my logic." Spike ordered, grinning widely. "If they are souled and evil, obviously the soul and morality are not connected."
"Meaning?" she shot back impatiently.
"Meaning it's not a given that I'm evil and unfeeling," the vampire concluded.
Buffy gestured at the half-drained warlock with one eloquent hand.
"Nature, luv. I have to eat something," he chuckled. "How is he any different from the beef you had for dinner? Just because you didn't slaughter it personally doesn't change that a cow died. And for the record, I didn't kill him."
"Wait, so you can't kill now?" she asked, almost triumphantly.
"Well, I could have offed him," Spike replied slowly, actually thinking about the question. "But my shiny new soul doesn't interfere with a damn thing I feel like doing. Just sits there, and I suppose I'm not crying over it cuz it's not really mine."
"So why aren't you trying to kill me right now?" the Slayer questioned him, lifting a stake as she said more thoughtfully. "Why am I not killing you?"
"Killing Angelus, remember? I've played nice," the bleached vampire said with a rakish smile, his voice dripping with promises and sensuality. Buffy almost hated him for it. "Unless you fancy another round to reassure that all vampires are evil."
"You are," the Slayer glared balefully, letting him know he wasn't playing nice anymore.
"You have the right of it." Spike continued without noticing her outburst, still sidling closer. "I am pretty wicked myself."
"Exactly!" she exploded, halting his advance. "So don't tell me you care about anything."
"I do, pet," he answered, suddenly solemn.
He reached out a callused hand and touched her cheek in an oddly sweet, intimate gesture. She stiffened at first, but relaxed, surprised at how comfortable it felt. She barely noticed he was still talking, her skin tingling at his touch. Wait, this was Spike, right? She really needed therapy.
"To feel is a choice, not to do with souls or anything else," her ally was explaining. "I choose. Angelus does not."
"Angel feels!" Buffy shot back, wrenching herself away from Spike's touch.
"Angel is forced to feel by an especially active soul!" Spike growled, amazed that they were arguing yet again. Or still arguing, as was more accurate.
"And you, I suppose." she sputtered in rage, hazel eyes narrowed.
"I? I am sick of this study of my nature!" the platinum blonde vampire yelled. "If you need another pussy-whipped, broody vampire to shag, for the love of God don't look at me!"
Buffy looked at him, obviously hurt and shocked at the turn the discussion had taken. Defiant, Spike stared right back at her, unwilling to take back his comment while he was still so angry. But that rage evaporated when he saw how watery the Slayer's eyes had become.
"Buffy, I." he started to apologize, but she wouldn't let him.
"Don't call me that!" she snarled, eyes as hateful as his had been most of the evening.
Whipping around without another word, she ran out of the cemetery, obviously trying to avoid tears until she got home. He just had to rip that scab open, didn't he?
"Bollocks. That certainly went well." Spike grumbled to himself as he picked up the stake that had started this whole mess and started home.