Title: Crusher
Rated: PG-13
Author: Etoile
Email- Etoile@soon.com
Summary: AU from Crush. Buffy accidentally finds out Spike's in love with her. When things change, she's not sure what to do. Please review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sunnydale or anyone that lives there. They all belong to Joss Whedon.
Sorry for the delay. There were lots of tests this week. Thanks to the people that reviewed. It was very much appreciated. On with the story…(italics indicate the past. It's a little weird on here but once it starts talking in third person, there it is.) Chapter 2Spike is in love with me. I'm in a daze the rest of the night. I was just going through the motions of talking, dancing, and drinking. I barely knew what I was doing. The only thing going through my mind was the accidental confession Spike made earlier. He didn't even know I heard. I honestly cannot believe this. He hates me. Or he's supposed to. He's definitely taking this change of nature thing too far.
I said goodbye to everyone a few minutes ago and now I'm walking home. I'm almost tempted to go patrol. But I know I'm just trying to run into him. Not that I'm interested back or anything. I just want to see if there's a difference between Trying-to-kill-me Spike and In-love-with-me Spike. I shudder. It's just really creepy. Spike's in love with me?
I'm still dazed by the time I get home. Dawn is in the living room, watching TV. She jumps when she hears me come in and turns it off.
"Hey Buffy, I was just…" She starts.
"Save it," I interrupt. "Just go to sleep. I don't have time to do this."
"Geez, what bit your butt?" She mutters and huffily walked up the stairs.
I finish turning off all the lights and go into my own room. I nervously look around as I change my clothes. It might be a little paranoid but who knows? Spike could be a stalker.
As I lay in bed, I feel like I'm in high school again, and the weird kid just asked you to the prom. Okay what to say? "Spike, I like you but I don't like like you." No, more like, "Spike, I'm sure you have some nice qualities, but I just don't see them." Or even better, "Spike, I'm going to need you to leave town."
And it's not like he can't find a nice vampire to love. Hell, it's not like he can't find a human who'd take him. He's an attractive gu...vampire. He's got that whole swaggering I'm a rebel in leather that could kick your ass thing going on. Those kinds of people are supposed to look all rugged and stuff. I've read romance novels. But Spike? He's pretty. I'm sure he would rather not hear that, but it's true. High cheekbones, bright blue eyes, soft lips...and I think someone should kill me now.
But hey, I can't help it. Just because I'm the slayer doesn't mean I can't appreciate hotness in evil beings. I'm married to my slayerness. I can look, but I just can't touch. Which is what I should have done with Angel. Then all the madness wouldn't have happened. Which is why I should end this before it even starts.
God, this is so stupid! He doesn't even know that I know. Why am I getting this worked up over it? I mean, nothing's really changed. At least, not from his viewpoint. If I just pretend that I heard nothing, we can go on as...allies?
I can do this.
I can pretend.
* * *
Oh my bloody evilness, my head's never pounded this hard before! I must have been drinking again. But I don't remember drinking after I left the Bronze. Which is why I've obviously been drinking, idiot.
Having an argument with myself. I wonder if I look crazy.
My bones ache as I try to sit myself up on the sarcophagus. Now I must really look crazy because I realize my eyes are still closed. I give up and slump back down. Now, I focus on opening my eyes. Now, I give up. They hurt more than my body does.
Maybe this is one of those times when you lay back, relax, and wait for the pain to stop. Maybe even reflect on things. Like what you bloody well did last night!
A fresh breeze blows by as I'm trying to recall last night's events. Must have left the door opened as I stumbled in. I hope this thing passes before the sun comes up, cause that won't be pleasant.
Okay. Last night. Robbed J.Crew of some shirts and pants. Went to the Bronze. Began Plan 1. Buggered Plan 1. Let a meal go. Talked to the slayer. Patrolled. What happened during patrol?
I remember a few vamps, two Ihutsh demons, a few Initiative type fellows, a Fyarl demon that still owes me money, a… Wait. Initiative type fellows? What the hell?
Now it starts to come back.
* * *
Spike walked across Wake Cemetery. It was a shame really. When you took a shortcut through a cemetery to get to the cemetery you're currently walking across as a shortcut to the cemetery you live in, there are too many cemeteries. Spike wasn't worried about that. It provided a lot of choices when trying to select a home. But it was a waste of space considering that half of the bodies were dust anyway. There was nothing in the casket. Families should buy one of those memorial walls or something. Then they could build something useful on the free land. Like one of those all wing places. They were skimping on the sauce at the Bronze.
Spike's ears pricked up at the sound of rustling in some near bushes. He stopped. "You bloody Fyarl. Are you all this stupid? I said that I didn't want to see you unless you had my money. Or I'll rip your arms off and beat you to death with them."
"I believe you're the stupid one here," a British voice sounded from his right. Spike turned sharply to see a man dressed in a suit, holding a clipboard and a pen. He continued condescendingly, "If you beat him to death, how will you get your money?"
Spike's eyes narrowed and he smirked. "Fyarl parts are very expensive. I'd get my money. Oh and, who the hell are you mate?"
The man sneered. "We're just curious people."
"We?" Spike frowned. Something strange was going on.
"Yes. We," another voice sounded off. Two men stepped out of the bushes. One was in all black carrying some kind of futuristic Star wars gun. The one who spoke, holding a clipboard as well, looked a little familiar.
It clicked. "Wait. Aren't you that bloke from…"
"The Initiative. That's right."
Spike glared at them, trying not to let his apprehension show. These people could do anything to him and they knew it, too. Maybe he could distract them from whatever they came to do. "I thought you guys were gone. I was there you know. I saw it. There was nothing left of it. And…"
The familiar looking man interrupted again. "We don't really have time from your loud mouth. Johnson," he ordered.
Okay. Distraction didn't work. Time for Plan B: Run! Spike turned around and began to sprint. But even his vamp speed was no match for the ray of electricity that flashed through his body a moment after. He tripped and fell to his face next to the pathway. The three men rushed over to him and turned him over.
The man with the clipboard sneered again. "Interesting. William the Bloody running from a conflict. Never thought I'd see the day."
Spike clenched his teeth as he stared up at his assailants. "Well what do we have here? Tweed suit, glasses, stuffy British accent. You must be a watcher. Are they paying you so bad, you had to join the Initiative?"
"Ah. The ever-present sarcastic wit of "Spike". Funny how it does no good with you on your back. It certainly seems…"
"Stop. You're here for one thing Wallace, and that's to record data. Stop yammering." The Initiative man said.
"I was just trying to…"
The man interrupted again, pointing to a sheet of paper on the clipboard. "Graham Miller. That's who the point is. Stay out of this and do your little calculations."
Wallace's eyes glinted as he curtly said, "Yes sir."
Spike smiled. "Awww. Am I causing strife in this tight knit group?"
Graham, as Spike faintly recalled Soldier boy Finn mentioning, turned on him with cold eyes. "Wallace was right. You do talk a lot for someone stuck on his back."
Spike growled and tried to move. He didn't like not being able to rip these bastards to pieces. What had they done to him?
Graham turned to the gunman. "Johnson. Get ready," he said.
"For what?" Spike asked. "Don't I have a bloody say so in this? I, for one, think what you've done is plenty."
"No, Hostile 17, you don't." Graham was gleeful. "Man, I wish Riley could be here to see this."
"Soldier boy isn't a soldier boy anymore? Shame."
Graham merely curled his lip. "We've been developing a new weapon for hostiles, mainly of the vampire variety. You've been fingered to help test it out."
"Hell no!" Spike resumed trying to break loose of whatever technological spell they had him under. He was getting scared. It wasn't an easy thing to admit, but it was true. Humans, crazy ones on an ego trip who knew his weakness, scared him. "I'm not gonna be part of anymore of your bloody experiments.
"I don't think I gave you a choice. Johnson, target."
Johnson aimed the gun directly at Spike's heart. It was impossible for Spike to even do anything as a blast of electricity shot towards him. "Aaarrrrggghhh!" He roared and vamped out. It felt like molten lava was running through his body. It wouldn't stop. Lights began to flicker before his eyes as his consciousness began to fade. He faintly heard them talking,
Not exhibiting symptoms…
Reverting to an actual corpse…
Back to the drawing board…
Before the world went black.
* * *
I shoot up in a flash and open my eyes. A searing pain went through them. I look around as best as possible.
"What the hell?"