'We're nothing like friends,
You have no time to spend.'
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Each went about their respective tasks, neither mentioning their discussion earlier. As night fell, Buffy changed into a pair of jeans and a red sweater, tucking a few stakes into the waistband of her jeans she turned to Spike, "Coming?"
The vampire nodded, sliding easily into his leather jacket before following her out of the apartment and down the stairs. The chilly December weather had chased the majority of the population inside and, as they continued on their walk towards the edge of the French Quarter, Buffy began to regret her decision to go out tonight.
She shivered, and leaned closer to Spike, who wrapped his arm around her waist, buffering her from the wind, "Cold?"
She scowled at him, "Just because being Mr. Undead makes you all non-feely with the weather, it doesn't mean you can't deeply sympathize."
Spike smirked at her, "I sympathize. I even empathize. Especially when you're all pushed up against me like this."
She scowled again at him, muttering a half-hearted 'pig' under her breath as they continued on down the winding alley streets.
Spike turned his face up towards the clear night sky, taking in the clarity of the stars against the black setting. He was about to point out a particularly breathtaking constellation to Buffy, when the absolute silence surrounding him sunk into his awareness.
Buffy had untangled herself from him and he could no longer hear her heartbeat.
He turned around quickly, his eyes scanning the area, the first tinges of panic erupting in his stomach, "Oi! Buffy, love! Where d'you go?" He paused for a moment waiting for an answer. His hearing picked up the faint sense of laughter on the wind, and the feeling of nervousness brewing in his gut seemed to intensify, "Something is definitely wrong here."
'And if you're guilt then I'm the shame,
And if I'm hurt then you're the blame.'
"Did you see that?" Buffy disentangled herself from Spike's arms and looked down one of the many narrow alleys they were passing, frowning at the darkness, "I could have sworn --"
She broke off her sentence as a form glimmered in front of her for an instant before turning deeper into the alley, "Hey! Wait!" Without looking to see if Spike was following her, Buffy started down the alley, stake drawn, following the illusive, glimmering figure.
Even if she'd wanted to, Buffy would have been unable to stop herself from following the girl through the twisting corridors. Her Slayer senses were off the scale, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight as tiny twinges of pain resounded throughout her stomach.
She broke into a run as the figure in front of her sped up, disappearing around sharp turns and forked corridors, without a glance backwards at her pursuer. Finally, with an inhuman burst of speed, the woman turned down an alleyway, before coming to a stop, Buffy close behind her.
The woman continued to stare at the alley wall as Buffy moved closer to her, her stake still in her hand. He free hand came up to touch the apparition on her shoulder. Slowly, the woman turned to face her, and Buffy doubled over towards the ground, retching.
Kendra's sightless face stared back at her. Two long, bleeding gashes glistened in her throat, blood trickling from the wounds down to the front of her white dress and staining the gauzy material. When she spoke, her voice echoed loudly against the grimy walls, forcing Buffy to look up at her from her position on the ground, "Betrayer."
Buffy shook her head, her stomach contracting underneath her sweaty palms, "N-No ..."
"She played with me before she killed me," Kendra's sightless eyes glowered down at Buffy dangerously, "Like I was a bug on a stick. And when she'd had her fill, she did this ... with her nails."
Buffy struggled to stand, "I'm so sorry, Kendra. I should've been there, I should've known --"
Kendra snarled, taking a step forward, "You should know better than to sleep with her paramour while I lie dead!"
Buffy shook her head again, gasping, "It's not like that."
Kendra continued forward, her hands outstretched, coming up to caress the collarbone of the other Slayer, she brought her face up against Buffy's ear, hissing, "Betrayer."
Then, without warning, she brought up two long fingernails and swiped them across Buffy's throat. The blonde Slayer grabbed at the wounds, blood staining her hands, while the gashes on Kendra's neck expanded, pumping out a torrent of blood.
"Buffy!" Dimly she was aware of Spike calling her name as she fell to the floor, the slime and mud, mixing into her wounds as she her mouth opened in a soundless scream.
He was beside her in a second, shaking her, his hands rough on her face and neck as he pried away her grime covered hands, smearing the blood on her neck as he checked for wounds. "Thank god," he muttered, pressing her against him, Buffy's hysterics subsiding, "Thank god."
Kendra's accusatory admonition still floated in the air around her, "Betrayer."
You have no time to spend.'
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Each went about their respective tasks, neither mentioning their discussion earlier. As night fell, Buffy changed into a pair of jeans and a red sweater, tucking a few stakes into the waistband of her jeans she turned to Spike, "Coming?"
The vampire nodded, sliding easily into his leather jacket before following her out of the apartment and down the stairs. The chilly December weather had chased the majority of the population inside and, as they continued on their walk towards the edge of the French Quarter, Buffy began to regret her decision to go out tonight.
She shivered, and leaned closer to Spike, who wrapped his arm around her waist, buffering her from the wind, "Cold?"
She scowled at him, "Just because being Mr. Undead makes you all non-feely with the weather, it doesn't mean you can't deeply sympathize."
Spike smirked at her, "I sympathize. I even empathize. Especially when you're all pushed up against me like this."
She scowled again at him, muttering a half-hearted 'pig' under her breath as they continued on down the winding alley streets.
Spike turned his face up towards the clear night sky, taking in the clarity of the stars against the black setting. He was about to point out a particularly breathtaking constellation to Buffy, when the absolute silence surrounding him sunk into his awareness.
Buffy had untangled herself from him and he could no longer hear her heartbeat.
He turned around quickly, his eyes scanning the area, the first tinges of panic erupting in his stomach, "Oi! Buffy, love! Where d'you go?" He paused for a moment waiting for an answer. His hearing picked up the faint sense of laughter on the wind, and the feeling of nervousness brewing in his gut seemed to intensify, "Something is definitely wrong here."
'And if you're guilt then I'm the shame,
And if I'm hurt then you're the blame.'
"Did you see that?" Buffy disentangled herself from Spike's arms and looked down one of the many narrow alleys they were passing, frowning at the darkness, "I could have sworn --"
She broke off her sentence as a form glimmered in front of her for an instant before turning deeper into the alley, "Hey! Wait!" Without looking to see if Spike was following her, Buffy started down the alley, stake drawn, following the illusive, glimmering figure.
Even if she'd wanted to, Buffy would have been unable to stop herself from following the girl through the twisting corridors. Her Slayer senses were off the scale, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight as tiny twinges of pain resounded throughout her stomach.
She broke into a run as the figure in front of her sped up, disappearing around sharp turns and forked corridors, without a glance backwards at her pursuer. Finally, with an inhuman burst of speed, the woman turned down an alleyway, before coming to a stop, Buffy close behind her.
The woman continued to stare at the alley wall as Buffy moved closer to her, her stake still in her hand. He free hand came up to touch the apparition on her shoulder. Slowly, the woman turned to face her, and Buffy doubled over towards the ground, retching.
Kendra's sightless face stared back at her. Two long, bleeding gashes glistened in her throat, blood trickling from the wounds down to the front of her white dress and staining the gauzy material. When she spoke, her voice echoed loudly against the grimy walls, forcing Buffy to look up at her from her position on the ground, "Betrayer."
Buffy shook her head, her stomach contracting underneath her sweaty palms, "N-No ..."
"She played with me before she killed me," Kendra's sightless eyes glowered down at Buffy dangerously, "Like I was a bug on a stick. And when she'd had her fill, she did this ... with her nails."
Buffy struggled to stand, "I'm so sorry, Kendra. I should've been there, I should've known --"
Kendra snarled, taking a step forward, "You should know better than to sleep with her paramour while I lie dead!"
Buffy shook her head again, gasping, "It's not like that."
Kendra continued forward, her hands outstretched, coming up to caress the collarbone of the other Slayer, she brought her face up against Buffy's ear, hissing, "Betrayer."
Then, without warning, she brought up two long fingernails and swiped them across Buffy's throat. The blonde Slayer grabbed at the wounds, blood staining her hands, while the gashes on Kendra's neck expanded, pumping out a torrent of blood.
"Buffy!" Dimly she was aware of Spike calling her name as she fell to the floor, the slime and mud, mixing into her wounds as she her mouth opened in a soundless scream.
He was beside her in a second, shaking her, his hands rough on her face and neck as he pried away her grime covered hands, smearing the blood on her neck as he checked for wounds. "Thank god," he muttered, pressing her against him, Buffy's hysterics subsiding, "Thank god."
Kendra's accusatory admonition still floated in the air around her, "Betrayer."