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 it's been a while. But as compensation, it's a little longer than usual! Tell me what you think, I obsessed over this a bit.
Chapter 5Two hours later, I'm still upset about Spike's comments about Riley. But I'm also upset that I'm upset. I mean, and I'm never saying this out loud, Spike was right. Riley left. Another guy left me. First my dad, then Angel. I'm three for three. I can see myself having abandonment issues in the future. But Spike was right in that I don't need to be defending him anymore. Particularly over his idiocy.
But I did care about him. Maybe I didn't love him like he loved me. But I cared and therefore, I still have the right to be upset. Spike's a big rude vampire with no tact. Apparently, the whole human characteristics thing doesn't change much of anything else.
Well, I do need to stop brooding over it though. It's not doing me much good sitting here on my bed and looking out the window. Especially when I can hear him in Dawn's room, having all sorts of fun on her Playstation.
Hmmph! It's such a kiddie thing anyway. Not like I wanna play it.
The noises stop coming from Dawn's room and I hear the door open. The sound of footsteps coming closer reaches my ears and I fumble around for something to do. Something that makes me look like I haven't been moping around for the past 2 hours. My door knob begins to twist before there is even a knock. The door opens wide and the jerk walks in.
"I could have been naked!" I say, mocking him.
"I know," he leers.
"You…You are a pig Spike." I sputter indignantly. All he does is shrug. His eyes roam around my room for a few moments and rest on me. His eyebrows rise a bit. "What?" I ask.
He nods at the book in my hands. "Moby Dick, uh? Didn't know you fancied the classics. You seem more the sort to read Sweet Valley High or some rubbish."
Please, as if. "Um, Spike? I'm 20, not 13. I don't even want to know how you know about the Sweet Valley twins." I just got a mental picture of Spike having a secret stash of the books hidden under his crypt and sneaking there every night to find out what Lila did to Jessica and Elizabeth. Now I'm showing my far too excessive knowledge of Sweet Valley. I swear they were all Dawn's.
"I know nothing about them," Spike says disdainfully and then pouts. "I'm hungry," he whines. "Feed me."
"Not your slave Spike. You can walk fine now. Do it yourself." I respond.
"But you're the host!"
"And you're annoying!"
Spike glares at me, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Fine," he says and makes a move towards the door. "If I accidentally set something on fire, I'll explain to your mum that you just couldn't be bothered."
I huff and get to my feet, piqued even more. I walk past him, my elbow accidentally digging into his ribs. A muffled groan reaches my ears at the stairs and brings a smile to my face. At least Spike is still part vampire so I can still beat him up. Speaking of which…
I wait until he comes into the kitchen to ask him, "What do you eat now anyway?"
That brings Spike up to a halt as he pauses to think the question over. He finally shrugs. "I don't know. I just have a rumbly tummy. It could still be blood. We'll need to find out." He looks at me expectantly.
"What?" I ask and close the fridge I had been searching.
"Well, get to cutting," he says and points to the knives. "I gotta see if I can digest the stuff."
My eyes widen. "You have got to be kidding. There's no way I'm giving you my blood." No way.
Spike saunters around the counter to me. "Why not?" He asks and leans into me. His breath is warm against my neck as he speaks. "Everyone else got a lick." He practically whispers the last word and a shiver runs down my spine. He breathes in my scent deeply and my eyes close of their own accord. I sigh, entertaining some inappropriately interesting thoughts now. How did it get so hot in here? His right hand is dangerously close to the side of my breasts as it slides up the refrigerator I'm leaned up against. Oh this is a bad idea. How did we even get here? It's so fast…My eyes fly open as I remember just how not fast this is for Spike. He's in love with me…
That gives me the strength to push him away from me and break the crazy spell he seemed to have me in. I turn away from his startled look and open the freezer to cool the heat on my face under the pretenses of searching for food. "No," I say, proud that my voice was not too shaky. "There's gotta be some blood back here for you."
I hear him sigh and tap lightly on the counter. He sighs again and finally says, "Okay fine. I'll help you look." He moves closer to me.
I panic and jump, as I say, "No! I'm fine! I don't want you…your help! I don't need your help." Oh God. Could this get any more embarrassing. First, I practically lead him on back there and now I'm talking about wanting him. Which I don't!
Ah, goal! I found a packet of blood. What's it doing here anyway? I raise an eyebrow at Spike as I hold up the packet. He shrugs, "I must have left it there once."
I shrug too, not wanting to get into a long discussion of what he was doing stashing his blood in my house. I toss him the packet and watch him preparing it. It's so gross. But like a train wreck, I can't help but watch it. He gets it into a mug (note to self: throw it away) and warms it up in the microwave. He must have done this here before because he knows the exact setting. I'm going to have to talk to mom and Dawn about their unnatural attachment to this vampire…
Spike takes the mug out of the microwave and lifts it to his lips. "Here goes nothing," he says and takes a swallow. He immediately gags and throws up into the sink. There's nothing else in his stomach so he ends up dry heaving for some time and then slinks to the floor placidly, his pale face looking ashen.
I scrunch up my nose and start to clean up the sink. "I guess that answers our question," I mutter.
* * *
That was the worst feeling I've felt in quite some time. I've only thrown up once as a vampire and that was in Ireland when I ate this git one whose blood alcohol level must have been 50%. I still think I did society a favor by eating him but it didn't help me much. I threw up immediately and was woozy for the next day and a half. Ah, that was a good year. No Angelus, no Darla, and Dru was sane a lot of the time.
Now I'm lying on the slayer's kitchen floor, staring at the designs of the ceiling. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Before I can even try, the slayer reaches down and picks me up. We skip over the part where I struggle and struggle to get up and go right into the part where I'm embarrassed as hell. "Stop helping me!" I say angrily and yank my arm out of her grasp. The blood vessel near my temple begins to throb.
She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. "I wouldn't have to help you if you weren't on the ground all the time!" she says, her foot tapping to the rhythm of an unheard drum.
I can't help a little smile that comes at the sight of her. Although I should be cautious—she looks angry enough to stake first, ask questions later—I can't help but notice how beautiful she looks when she's angry. Bright red spots appear on her cheeks and her eyes light up. Her chest heaves up and down with each breath. It's an exquisite sight to see.
I can't enjoy the show though because I remember why she is mad. My headache has doubled in size. I begin to slowly pace around the kitchen. "Survey says no more blood, eh?" I ask.
"It must be that you're human and you need real food." Buffy answers.
"Then why can I still vamp out? Wouldn't the demon still need to eat?" I ask, my headache getting worse.
"I don't know," she says. "But that's what we're gonna try to figure out tonight. Okay? Don't stress yourself out too much?"
"Stress? Who's stressed?" I ask, offended. The Big Bad doesn't stress out over anything. I'm as cool as a…Uh? "How cool is a cucumber?" I ask before I can stop myself.
She gives me a strange look and I feel as retarded as she probably thinks I am. She points at my forehead. "You've got a little wrinkle thing there. And your temple keeps pounding. You're gonna give yourself a headache."
Ah, well, too late for that, I think as I lean against the counter. I lean forward until my forehead touches the cupboard in front of me. My stomach is still growling but I feel so nauseated and, combined with the headache, it doesn't leave me with much of an appetite.
"You want some real food?" Buffy asks. "Maybe some soup and juice?"
I shake my head. "No," I say. "I don't feel particularly hungry anymore."
"You're not gonna go anorexic on me are you?"
I give her a weak smile. "Don't worry. I saw For the Love of Nancy. I'm sure I'll be eating pretty soon. Just don't think my stomach could handle it now."
She nods and I'm surprised to see her move towards me. She reaches a hand to feel my forehead. "You feel okay, which is more than I can say for how you look," she says. "Why don't you go lay down in the living room until you feel better."
Normally I'd yell at her for treating me like a baby but the hand still on my forehead is causing me to act strange. I just agree with her and let her lead me to the couch. Five minutes later, I'm laying on the couch with a remote control in my hand and a blanket tucked under my chin. What happened to the Big Bad? Oh well, I think and shrug as best as I can under the blanket, there are worse things. I'm in the slayer's home, getting some decent treatment for once. Getting all close to her…I can't believe I got that close to her. That she let me. I'd think more about it but my brain's slowly shutting itself off.
* * *
After I tuck in a strangely passive Spike on the couch, I go down to the basement to finish his laundry and start on mine. I switch on the light and begin working quickly. I never liked basements. Bad things always happen in basements. And I don't even need the movies to tell me that, my life provides enough evidence.
When I finish, I look in on Spike to make sure he's not destroying anything but he's fast asleep. I let out a sigh of relief. No more aggravating vampire to babysit, I think. Now I can do whatever I want.
A few hours later, I'm roused from my sleep by a door slamming down the hall. I think of what a fun, active life I have. Of all the things I could have done, I decided to take a shower and take a nap. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I get out of bed. I head over towards Dawn's room to figure out what the commotion is. My movement is cut short by Dawn bursting out of her room and into the bathroom. I check the time. Oh, school is over. I knock on the bathroom door.
A muffled, "What?" comes out.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
A pause. "Nothing."
Yeah, right. That sounds like nothing. "Dawn," I say, using my older sister tell-me-or-you-die voice.
"Nothing!" She says again, her voice high-pitched. Hah! That definitely means something. I push the door open and look in. "Hey! Intrude much?" She asks indignantly.
I blink once. Twice. I look at Dawn again to make sure I'm not hallucinating. "What are you doing with my makeup?" She can barely mumble the "nothing" this time and looks down. I lift her chin back up. Well, apparently it's the first time because she's no good at this. Her lips are too red, as are her cheeks, and she has way too much mascara on. I'd laugh but I don't think she's in quite the cheerful mood right now. But I can't stop a smile from reaching my face.
Dawn jerks her chin out of my hand. "I'm just practicing." She mutters. She grabs a washcloth and starts scrubbing her face.
"Good," I say. "But you should have asked first before taking my stuff." I take the washcloth from her and wipe the makeup off for her. "Why are you doing this now, anyway? Is there a boooooy?" I ask, teasing.
"No!" She says, quickly. "No boy, no boy at all." But her cheeks are pink and I already got the blush off.
"There's a boy! Who is it?"
"No one!"
"Will you bints bloody keep it down? I'm trying to watch Passions here!" Spike's voice bellows from the living room.
I roll my eyes and turn to Dawn. If anything, her face is redder. My eyes widen as I recall what she said at the school about Spike coming over. "No Dawn," I say in an undertone, stricken. "You can't be serious."
She looks uncomfortable and can't look me in the eye. "Serious about what?"
"You have a crush on Spike!" I state, my voice raising.
"Shhh! He's downstairs," Dawn says and closes the door. "And thanks a lot. I said 6 o'clock."
"I'm sorry your imaginary little date didn't work out," I bite out sarcastically.
She practically growls at that. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"
"Wouldn't understand? Wouldn't understand what? Nothing's happening for me to understand. Or… He hasn't touched you, has he?"
"No." She actually looks disappointed at this. I feel like tearing out my hair, I'm so frustrated. "Look, it's not a big deal," she says. "He doesn't even know I like him or anything. He just thinks of me as your kid sister."
Well, thank goodness for small miracles. I still can't believe she has a crush on Spike. I can't believe my little sister doesn't have better taste. At least when I fell in love with a vampire, he had a soul. "He is so not babysitting you anymore."
"What? Why? That's like the only time I ever see him!"
"See him? Honestly, Dawn! He's like 9 times your age!"
"Yeah, but he only looks 2 times it."
I slapped a hand on my forehead and shake my head. I guess I can only blame myself. My relationship with Angel must have been a stellar example.
"It's really not a big deal Buffy. It's just a little crush. One of those things I'll laugh at when I grow up." She shrugs and picks at a towel. "I just think he's cool."
I sigh. I'm less upset now that I realize how one sided this thing is. Her first major crush and she picks someone much older and in love with someone else. Namely me. I hope it's just a crush or she's going to be in for some heartbreak. I pull her close to me and stroke her hair. I've been hurt in patrols and apocalypses a million times now. That pain is like a paper cut compared to when your heart is broken.
* * *