Nobody's Perfect
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: I know. I'm a horrid person. Bad me. Sorry for taking so damn long. But school is over in a couple of weeks, so YAY! Many more updates shall occur. Including all of the brilliant new story ideas I have discovered (seemingly more original than many of my current ones-although I do believe that these, even though they share similar 'plots'...are very different than all of my other ones). And there shall also be updates on DayDreamer...so keep your eye out for a new chapter/check it out if you haven't! Sorry again....I'm not even going to have a disclaimer....although the same thoughts and feelings are shared regarding the whole situation.
On with the story....
Chapter Six
Spike was walking through the cemetery; the only sounds were the chirping
crickets and his boots crunching down on the occasional leaf or twig. There was no
breeze. No demons or vampires lurking about. No adventurous teenagers. It was as if
the night was dead. "Well," Spike muttered to himself, "No shit, Sherlock. It is a bloody
graveyard after all." It had been three nights and two hours since Buffy had disappeared.
Every night he had been out searching, and he hadn't been able to track her. That's what
scared him the most. The fact that he couldn't smell her. Willow and Tara had cast a
locator spell, which hadn't worked. He refused to believe it, but his subconscious
continuously murmured dreadful things, like the idea that Buffy was dead. But, he
refused to believe that, and continued searching. He was slinking around town and it
happened. He caught a whiff of her scent. Truth be told, it wasn't exactly her scent. It
was darker, the cheerful innocence replaced by violence tinged with heartbreak and
loneliness. But it was her, it had to be her. He had never smelled a person with the scent
of vanilla, cinnamon, and blood until he met Buffy. No one since he met her. So it had
to be her. He tracked the scent across town, spending hours standing in the same spot
until another whiff would waft by his nose. He tracked that scent to the cemetery he was
currently standing in. It was usually pretty active. But it was a graveyard that night. He
should have been able to hear her heartbeat it was so quiet. But he couldn't. He couldn't
even breathe. Not when he was so close to her, but so impossibly far away.
"Buffy!" he called, waiting for anything. Something. A breath, an answer. And
he got it.
Spike suddenly pivoted around and came toe to toe with the slayer. "Hello, Spike," Buffy said in a steely voice.
"Thank God! You scared me half to death, Slayer. What the bloody hell was
with the disappearing act the other night? If my heart was still beating, you would have
given me a heart attack. And your mates, they've been worried sick. Especially the Bit."
He would have continued ranting, but Buffy cut him off. "No! Don't lie to
me. You think I'm stupid? You're on their side. On it's side." She sighed in panicked
exasperation, "Jeez! Why am I even talking to you? You're not real. You're just one of
it's mind games! I could understand the others, you taking the others and using them to
break me. But you couldn't control him. Spike was the one person you couldn't
control." She chuckled humorlessly before saying in a frighteningly low and melancholy
voice, "But you found away around that, didn't you?"
"Buffy, luv, I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about!"
"Liar. Don't you dare patronize me, you son of a bitch. You think that turning
him against me will break me? Well guess what, you are pretty damn crappy in the
torture department. I became immune to your attacks, I'm beyond the breaking point. I
broke years ago! Years ago, a time that you weren't even around to make me miserable.
Death is supposed to be my gift, remember? So, why don't we just do the whole fighting
bit, then I can go somewhere where you can't find me and lick my wounds before you
attack again. That seems to be what you like, isn't it?"
Silhouettes appeared, closing in on the two blondes. As the figures stepped into the moonlight, Buffy saw that it was the Scoobies. She looked incredulously at Spike, "How the hell did you manage to represent all of them at once? You fucking bastard, I swear to God that I'll-" Xander slammed a concrete slab on the back of her head.
"Sorry, Buff," he murmured.
A/N: now would be an excellent time to review (hint hint)
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: I know. I'm a horrid person. Bad me. Sorry for taking so damn long. But school is over in a couple of weeks, so YAY! Many more updates shall occur. Including all of the brilliant new story ideas I have discovered (seemingly more original than many of my current ones-although I do believe that these, even though they share similar 'plots'...are very different than all of my other ones). And there shall also be updates on DayDreamer...so keep your eye out for a new chapter/check it out if you haven't! Sorry again....I'm not even going to have a disclaimer....although the same thoughts and feelings are shared regarding the whole situation.
On with the story....
Chapter Six
Spike was walking through the cemetery; the only sounds were the chirping
crickets and his boots crunching down on the occasional leaf or twig. There was no
breeze. No demons or vampires lurking about. No adventurous teenagers. It was as if
the night was dead. "Well," Spike muttered to himself, "No shit, Sherlock. It is a bloody
graveyard after all." It had been three nights and two hours since Buffy had disappeared.
Every night he had been out searching, and he hadn't been able to track her. That's what
scared him the most. The fact that he couldn't smell her. Willow and Tara had cast a
locator spell, which hadn't worked. He refused to believe it, but his subconscious
continuously murmured dreadful things, like the idea that Buffy was dead. But, he
refused to believe that, and continued searching. He was slinking around town and it
happened. He caught a whiff of her scent. Truth be told, it wasn't exactly her scent. It
was darker, the cheerful innocence replaced by violence tinged with heartbreak and
loneliness. But it was her, it had to be her. He had never smelled a person with the scent
of vanilla, cinnamon, and blood until he met Buffy. No one since he met her. So it had
to be her. He tracked the scent across town, spending hours standing in the same spot
until another whiff would waft by his nose. He tracked that scent to the cemetery he was
currently standing in. It was usually pretty active. But it was a graveyard that night. He
should have been able to hear her heartbeat it was so quiet. But he couldn't. He couldn't
even breathe. Not when he was so close to her, but so impossibly far away.
"Buffy!" he called, waiting for anything. Something. A breath, an answer. And
he got it.
Spike suddenly pivoted around and came toe to toe with the slayer. "Hello, Spike," Buffy said in a steely voice.
"Thank God! You scared me half to death, Slayer. What the bloody hell was
with the disappearing act the other night? If my heart was still beating, you would have
given me a heart attack. And your mates, they've been worried sick. Especially the Bit."
He would have continued ranting, but Buffy cut him off. "No! Don't lie to
me. You think I'm stupid? You're on their side. On it's side." She sighed in panicked
exasperation, "Jeez! Why am I even talking to you? You're not real. You're just one of
it's mind games! I could understand the others, you taking the others and using them to
break me. But you couldn't control him. Spike was the one person you couldn't
control." She chuckled humorlessly before saying in a frighteningly low and melancholy
voice, "But you found away around that, didn't you?"
"Buffy, luv, I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about!"
"Liar. Don't you dare patronize me, you son of a bitch. You think that turning
him against me will break me? Well guess what, you are pretty damn crappy in the
torture department. I became immune to your attacks, I'm beyond the breaking point. I
broke years ago! Years ago, a time that you weren't even around to make me miserable.
Death is supposed to be my gift, remember? So, why don't we just do the whole fighting
bit, then I can go somewhere where you can't find me and lick my wounds before you
attack again. That seems to be what you like, isn't it?"
Silhouettes appeared, closing in on the two blondes. As the figures stepped into the moonlight, Buffy saw that it was the Scoobies. She looked incredulously at Spike, "How the hell did you manage to represent all of them at once? You fucking bastard, I swear to God that I'll-" Xander slammed a concrete slab on the back of her head.
"Sorry, Buff," he murmured.
A/N: now would be an excellent time to review (hint hint)