Just One Little Kiss

:: CHAPTER NINE ::

"Marie, have you seen Spike?" Buffy asked as she came down for makeup that morning.

"Nope, thought he was with you." She replied, keeping her eyes firmly on Pete's at the other end of the room.

"We were meant to meet last night by the deli across the street. He didn't show."

"Maybe he's had enough of you." She suggested, before sidestepping her friend and moving towards her target. "Hey, Pete." She grinned, toying with the end of her pen in her mouth.

"Miss." He nodded, tipping his imaginary hat and adding a thick Texan drawl. "My," he said in mock astonishment, "what are you doin' to that poor pen?"

"Pete, where's Spike?" Buffy asked, sidestepping the play in front of her.

"Aint he with you, l'il lady?" Pete turned and smiled to her before focussing his affections back to Marie, who was acting coy as best she could.

"No," she angered, "we were meant to meet last night but he didn't show up."

Marie stepped forwards and slid a leg in between Pete's, pressing herself full against him.

"Sorry, Buff, no idea w-here he is. Now, tell me," he grinned down at Marie, "w-hat, pray tell, is a girl like you doin' so far from home?"

Buffy picked up the phone. She was going to ring him. She had to ring him. She had to explain to him why she'd said what she'd said.

"What? Now?" She heart his voice on the answering-machine message. "Oh – right, got it. Cheers. Yeah, this is William Johnson. If you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Cheers." "Now press the--"

Buffy cleared her throat. "Hi, um, Spike. It's Buffy. A-Are you alright? We haven't heard from you in a few days and Patrick's starting to wig out. I-I know this sounds stupid, but we rang the police. They reckon you've just skipped town." She let out a nervous laugh. "Is everything alright? We're worried, Spike. I'm worried."

The answer phone timed out.

Spike lay sprawled across the bedclothes in a darkened room. His hand was clutching his neck and he was shivering on the red satin. He tried to lift himself up, but his eyes were hazy and tired, and it was a struggle to breath.

"Is this him?" Said a distant, female voice. "I thought you said he was strong."

"He is strong," replied another, a man, "he took out two of my guys. He's just a human."

Spike strained to look up at the figure as it made its way to the bed. As it got closer he saw the smoky eyes and black hair. She seemed to be debating what she'd do with him.

She sat down next to him on the bed and reached out a long, thin hand towards his neck. Spike flinched away.

"W-What's happening?" He choked, his voice deep and worn.

"Oh, kitten!" Breathed the woman, smiling happily. "Don't you know where you are? Aww, poor thing." She leant forwards and brushed her hand over his chest through the ripped, blood-soaked shirt. He shivered under her touch.

"W-Where's Buffy?"

"What's a buffy?" the man asked, stepping forwards into view. There was a flickering light just behind his head, shadowing his face.

"W-What have you done with Buffy?" Spike growled, spurred on by anger and a new consciousness. He pushed himself up, one hand still covering the wound on his neck.

"Sweet!" The woman squealed. "He's in love!"

"In love?" Asked the man. He scoffed. The woman's face fell sullen.

"Yes," she said, nodding, "I think I'll turn him." Spike blinked and tried to look at her. His head was spinning wildly. He couldn't make her out anymore. She was fuzzing, turning into a black mass.

"But if he is in love won't he be weak?"

"I could drain him." She tilted her head to one side and leaned towards him. Spike flinched away and fell back, limp, but determined to be free. She lowered her head to his neck and pulled away his hand. The licked the blood from on the fingers. "Mmmn! He tastes good." She giggled. Spike frowned and tried to pull away, but he was too weak. "I want to keep him."

"Wakey-wakey!" A voice sounded in his ear, hot breath shivering his throat. A finger began to run its way from the top of his forehead, down his nose, across his throat, down his chest… His hand moved and grabbed it, stilling it.

Spike opened his eyes. He felt like he was using them for the first time. He looked around above him. He could see the canopy of the bed, the flashing of fires, the blood red of silk. He turned to his left where a woman lay on her side, watching him. She giggled.

He sat up and rose from the bed. Each step he took seemed to be so easy, so light, so fast. The flames of torches that hung on the walls seemed to take an age to pass from side to side, their fires almost frozen. Statues seemed to move, shadows seemed to disappear.

"What's going on?" He said, his voice still deep but almost haunting now. "Where am I?" He turned to see his capture now sat up in the bed amidst a flurry of black hair and satin sheets. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "You are so new!" She squealed, excitedly. She jumped up and moved over to him. "You're a vampire, darling!"

Spike looked down at his ripped shirt and bloodstained clothes. His hand moved mechanically to his neck. Then he remembered it all.

"B-Buffy?" He asked.

The woman seemed downcast; she had chosen ill. "There is no Buffy."

"Buffy." He growled more urgently. He felt changes in his face as his anger grew. "Buffy! Where is she?" The woman smiled and opened her mouth in awe at his transformation. "Where?" He growled again.

There was an animal in him now. It spurred him to move and say things. He reached out and grabbed her neck. Pinning her against the wall. She laughed and clapped.

"Good boy!" She grinned.

"Buffy!" He shouted, again, slamming her back against the wall.

"Bad boy." She frowned. "Naughty boy!" She scolded, seemingly unaffected by his blows.

Spike looked at his hand, suddenly. Realisation dawned on him. He dropped the woman and stared at his arms in revulsion. He turned and looked towards the shadowed passage leading away from the room.

"You can't go," she said, impatiently, "I made you! You're mine!"

Read 'n' Review!