Hellooo all!
Thank you for lovely reviews! Makes me do my happy dance!
Warm thanks to Scarlet Ibis (Yes, what WAS it that was temporary? Spike... care to explain? Hah, that's clever about the never wore the same outfit twice. Well, let's boil it down to her wardrobe being extensive before she moved to Sunnydale, and then she had her every-year-pre-fall update to keep her going until summer.) :), Brunettepet (How nice to read! Thanks girl, your comments always make me smile very wide with delight!) :), Nessie (Very happy you liked. And you know how it's like with Buffy's ability to suppress and forget.) ;), ReeseAnn (heh-heh, think so? And poor Spike, really? Even after his whole I-will-taste-you dark thoughts?) ;), Kendra (What can I say? You make me veeeery happy with all that positive force directed at the story! Looove it! Smiling over the poop-head, and agreeing. And hope this update is a bit better than the last one, time-wise, I mean.) ;), MaidenRo (Oh, I love jealous Spike/Buffy as much as you do! Just can't have too much of it or it's an overdose. And before you argue me on that point, let's move on... ;) I'm glad you're glad about the more-2-come!) :), Bloodshedbaby (I know. Bitchy Buffy is the worst Buffy and we sure saw enough of her in season five, and season six. Gratefully she bowed out for most of season seven. Detached Buffy, though. I shake my head, I shake my head, I shake my head.) :) and last but not least Mel (aw, so great to have you with us again! I missed seeing your name up there, girl! I hope you'll enjoy what I've done with the story so far! Yay! Yay! And hope you found the chapter you left off on, and if you actually started from the beginning... Whoa!) :)
Thank you ALL! I'll see you very soon!
A.M.L, Annie.
¤
Addiction
¤
"Buffy?" Giles said, surprised, even more so at the haggard expression on the Slayer as she stepped through the door of his apartment.
She walked up to the couch, throwing herself down on it with a whimper.
"I feel like I haven't slept for days!" she said. "Oh, that's right," she then muttered, "I haven't."
Giles closed the front door, coming up to her wearing a wondering expression. She noticed the still-packed bags on the floor and got to her feet, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Thank you!" she said. He blinked in marvel and she stepped back with a smile on. "For what you did! It was all your doing. If it hadn't been for you I'd still be making out with Spike. Making with The Spike. But thanks to you... I'm really not. I'm a big fan of you."
Giles blinked again.
"Buffy?" he then said again, looking more closely at her and she stood straight, her smile widening. "Good lord, how did this happen?"
"Did you miss the tribute to your greatness? I can do it all again. And why do you have Confused written all over your face? ...You didn't? Make the spell go away?"
"No," he answered. "No, my friend couldn't locate its origin, as I had hoped... Perhaps it was for it having already been lifted. When did you... come back?"
"I never left."
"What do you mean?"
She went back up to the couch, having a seat and gathering her thoughts before beginning to try to explain.
"I reverted back to fifteen; me at fifteen wasn't somehow brought into my body. When the spell was lifted it was like I woke up from a dream. A detailed, remember-every-second sort of dream, but still a dream. Well," she smirked, "nightmare, I guess is the right word."
"This is intriguing. I truly would like to know how it came to pass. I've never heard of anything like it."
She looked guilty, glancing up at him, and he paused, then asked:
"What?"
"I was how it came to pass."
"You?"
"I made a wish."
"Buffy, you know better than to play around with the darker arts..."
"I didn't! There was no playing! Especially not with darker parts! Arts! Giles, I just remember saying that I wished I could've been fifteen again, that I could be back before being the Slayer took over every aspect of my entire life! I was exhausted after being on Adam watch for a billion hours, and everything with Riley and I went a little nuts, but I didn't think that just throwing a wish out there could make it come true!"
Giles observed her, then took off his glasses and began to polish them.
"You never can know who's listening," he finally said.
"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."
"No, I suppose I can't," he smiled slightly, replacing his glasses. "But this is quite the tale, Buffy."
"Willow mentioned divinity," she said, Giles' eyebrows rising.
"Yes... that would be plausible," he nodded, getting a thoughtful expression on his features as he walked up to one of his bookcases, kneeling down and beginning to search the titles. "It is very rare... Extremely rare, I would say. They're not allowed to meddle in our affairs. As far as I know they are punished severely if they take it into their own hands to interfere in this world..."
"Ergo rarity of willingness to poke nose in," Buffy commented.
"Yes," Giles said again, absentmindedly.
"If they're not supposed to leave their mark, then maybe all of this'll go away," she murmured.
"All of what?"
"Might be just residue," she mumbled sleepily. "Temporary... insanity."
"Yes, quite right," Giles said, sliding a book out and beginning to flip through it. "Or, what did you say?"
Turning his head to her he smiled a little as she was out cold.
¤
She was standing in the dark, and in front of her Spike was chained to a wall made of stone. He couldn't see her.
"This is where I'll keep you," she whispered.
His gaze searched the space for her, but couldn't find her. She furrowed her brow, looking at the heavy bonds tied to his wrists before she took in his chest and then his face. Without warning he vamped out.
"This is where I'll keep you," she repeated; light from the ceiling suddenly flowing down around her, an invisible spotlight directed straight at her scalp. "You'll always be safe here. You know that," she stated, meeting his yellow eyes.
Then she began moving forward slowly until she was right before him, hesitating for a second before she reached out her hands and slipped them over the taut muscles of his torso, stepping into him and tilting her head back to look up at him. And then, she let her lips meet his. For a few moments his fangs scraped her skin, and then they drew back and his arms were suddenly around her, holding her tightly.
The chains were gone.
The kiss deepened.
Then she slowly ended it, pulling her head back to meet his gaze. The warmth in his eyes made her feel safe, and she knew that he loved her.
She woke with a sharp breath, scrambling to her feet the next instant and looking around the room. It was empty, Giles had left. She moved her hands through her hair, then rolled her shoulders back and straightened out her sweater.
"It's okay," she said. "You're fine!"
She chewed on her lower lip, then came to a decision.
¤
"Buffy!" Willow said. "With books," she added, looking questioning.
It was right after lunch and the encounter was taking place in one of the hallways of the college.
"Yes, I thought I should embrace the studying. Anything to root out all the thinking."
Willow smiled as Tara joined them.
"Hi," the latter said, smiling at the redhead and then at the blonde. "Hi, Buffy. How are you doing?"
"Overload on the thoughts."
"Oh."
Buffy smiled.
"I'm okay. I'm fine! I just need to get something else in my head other than what's stuck in it right now."
¤
"'The only way to rid yourself of an addiction is to give into it.' From what famous writer comes this quote?"
Buffy sunk down in her chair, a pout quickly placing itself on her mouth as she pretty much glared at the professor. What the hell did she have to do! Was there no escaping this? Was this her sudden curse? Did the entire universe now work solely for her to run straight back to the bleached fiend and tell him...
"Oscar Wilde, people!" her professor stated. "Wake up! Do you agree with Mr. Wilde's insight, or might you perhaps have an opinion of your very own?"
A few students raised their hands.
"Yes, Lily?"
"Giving into an addiction isn't really ridding yourself of it. I have a... bordering on ridiculous, I'll admit it, liking of grapes." There were scattered laughs and she smiled. "I'm serious, though. I eat them all the time, but that doesn't make it go away; it only keeps the need alive."
Buffy nodded her consent to that.
"But I think Wilde didn't mean it literally," a guy in the back spoke up. "That is, he was being sarcastic. An addiction is something that you can't ever make go away, no matter what you try."
"That's not true," a girl said. "I used to love my mom's wheat cookies, I thought I could eat a hundred of them, but then she made me about a hundred and when I'd eaten half of them I never wanted to eat another wheat cookie again! And I haven't since."
"There we have a story that proves Mr. Wilde to be absolutely correct, then," the professor said with a smile. "But what of a deeper addiction? Not that the suggested ones aren't valid, but if we try we might find a few that hasn't got to do with sweets or... fruit." Scattered laughs around the room again. "Think of drugs. There are many different kinds. Caffeine. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Pills. Narcotics. If you had to pick, which one would be the worst?"
"Cigarettes," Buffy stated without really thinking.
"And why is that, Ms. Summers?"
"They... smoke," she said; her fellow students laughing and she smiled as well. "What I mean to say is that they affect other people in a really annoying way."
"Doesn't a drunk father or mother abusing their child because they're too gone to realize what they're doing affect their surroundings in a most annoying way?" the professor asked, addressing the whole class as he continued: "Doesn't someone taking an overdose of pills affect many of those around them disturbingly? And doesn't a seventeen year old so desperate for a fix that he robs his grandparents for a few dollars affect others as well?"
"Yes, addictions are bad," Buffy agreed. "But what about Mr. Wilde's quote? I mean, all the things you mentioned as an addiction are things people just have to learn to live with, if they're stupid enough to indulge in them once, right?"
"Exactly what I believe, Ms. Summers," her professor nodded. "The only way to rid yourself of an addiction – don't indulge to begin with."
"But if you've crossed the line," a girl said, "and it's too late, then what?"
"What did Ms. Summers say? If you're stupid enough..."
The girl thought for a second, then filled in:
"You'll have to live with it."
"Ah, she even took it one step further than that. She said you must learn to live with it. It's the hardest thing for anyone to learn the valuable lesson of abstinence, but even being able to practice self-control will never make the need for what you crave go away. It may lay dormant, for years, but then it might rise unexpectedly and you'll have to deal with it again."
"What's the moral of it all?" another guy asked, this one in the front. "Don't have coffee, don't enjoy a drink, don't touch cigarettes, stay away from aspirin and don't ever get high?"
"Marvelous, Mr. Greer," the professor applauded. "You picked this up without me having to put it up on the blackboard, very good! The moral of this lesson is: always rule yourself, never allow something to rule you."
¤
He's a demon, Buffy told herself firmly, staring at her reflection later that evening. He's a demon and I won't let a demon rule me. I won't let this rule me! I only want him 'cause there's no way I can ever have him, the sooner I understand that, the sooner he'll be out of my head. So, he doesn't have a soul. He acts and walks and talks and moves and looks like a human because he has the memory of William... That's a nice name, isn't it? I've always like that name. Hmh, he has the same nickname as Willow... Will. Might get confusing. Why would it get confusing? They're not going to be anywhere near each other. Moving on. ...Where was I? Oh, right. He only remembers William's life, he didn't live it. So there's nothing of William in him. Nothing. That dream wasn't a Slayer dream, anyways. It was a residue dream. So I'm forgetting about it now. Click-click-deleted. ...And he's not funny. ...And he's not important. And he can't kiss.
The door opened and she rose to her feet, turning to Willow as the latter entered.
"Hi," Buffy said.
"Hi," Willow replied. "Did it work?"
"Huh? Did what work? I haven't been trying to work anything."
Willow looked wondering.
"The getting the thinking to stop," she then elaborated, eyeing her friend before adding: "I'm gonna go out on a not too wild limb – 'cause I'm scared I might fall off – and say that it didn't?"
"Actually I think it might've. Made it stop, I mean," Buffy said optimistically. "I might've found my cure."
Willow couldn't think of anything to say to that, but she tried not to look too sympathetic as she couldn't stop herself from thinking: denial, denial, denial.
The Wicca didn't know exactly what was going on with the Slayer and the Vamp, but it sure wasn't nothing. She had noticed it at the Bronze the other night. She was worried, but didn't know how to approach the subject. Was the Slayer actually developing warmer feelings for the vampire? Was that even possible, or was it just a passing lapse of... concentration? Perhaps it would go away.
If it doesn't do it soon, Willow thought, Buffy's going to have to face it... and that can only lead down the path of ugly.
¤
God, I hate her, Spike thought, glaring at the television and then at the whiskey in his hand.
"I mean hate," he stated. "Really, really hate her. She keeps on screwing up my life... Keeps on... making me bloody think about her!"
He drank up the whiskey, then looked at the glass again, which she had bought for him, and he growled, throwing it to hit the wall beyond the TV. He rose, kicking the loveseat over, stepping over it and walking into the kitchen, staring at the collection of glasses neatly standing on the counter. He moved his arm forward, about to sweep them all to the floor when he stopped himself. Gnashing his teeth he let the arm fall to hang along his side again, sighing he shook his head.
Unbelievable, he thought.
Then he reached out a hand to gently touch one of the items before smiling slightly to himself before turning and slowly walking back into the other room. Straightening the couch upright again he leaned on his arms, hanging his head and wanting the wanting to stop. Because he missed her.
But she's not... the same now. I'm missing someone who's... dead.
The grief at that thought was too great and he grabbed his duster, choosing to ignore it all and go somewhere that wouldn't have every corner reminding him of her. Well, some corners might.
"I'll deal with that when I get there," he told himself.
The following morning he woke up at the base of the ladder of the crypt; concluding that he must've fallen down it the night prior. He was bound to remember how he'd gotten there, as long as he could get to his feet. He groaned, rolling from his stomach to his back.
"Well, this is a pathetic sight," Buffy's voice sounded and he turned his head, watching her legs come walking up to him.
She stopped to lean down over him and he looked up at her, frowning questioningly.
"Honey," she smirked, sinking down with her feet on either side of him, straddling him softly, "how many times do I have to tell you, don't drink and climb. One of these days..."
"I'm gonna get seriously injured," he filled in, sitting up with her hands placing themselves on his shoulders as the smirk stayed on her mouth. He added: "I'm a quick healer."
"So am I," she stated, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck and two fresh puncture wounds. "How's that for breakfast?"
Before he knew it he had vamped out, parted his lips and let his teeth sink through her flesh.
He sat straight. Soon understanding that he was in bed, in his bed, and that he was alone.
¤
"Is that what you're wearing?" Willow asked and Buffy cocked an eyebrow.
"Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?" she retorted.
"No, not at all. You look nice!" Willow assured with a smile. "It's just... Well, if you wanna get Riley back maybe you should use something more... alluring."
Buffy gave her a look and Willow laughed.
"Sorry, I'm backing off now. I just miss seeing you guys together, you know? I really want you to work this whole thing out."
"Right. And it has nothing to do with the confession I laid on you or the fact that there's a vampire hanging around in the wings just waiting for an opportunity to..."
"No," Willow interrupted, "it has absolutely nothing to do with that. Let's just enjoy tonight."
"We will. ...At least we can be positive to be in the last place Spike would ever show up."
¤
Buffy walked into the large house hosting Riley's fraternity, orienting herself quickly and spotting the table with refreshments. She headed up to it with Willow and Tara, all of them grabbing some punch before last two went to find Xander. Buffy looked around the room, seeing Forrester she gave him an awkward nod which he barely returned and after that brush-off she decided to simply mingle.
Fifteen minutes later she'd walked through every room of the place and couldn't find Riley anywhere. She was beginning to grow annoyed when a hand touched her shoulder and she turned around to face the namesake.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," she replied.
They stood without saying anything for a while, both trying to pick it up at the right place. Finally he asked:
"Wanna sit?"
She nodded and they found their way to a partially occupied couch, squeezing down and facing each other tentatively. Buffy ventured a smile and as he returned it hers broadened.
"I miss you," he confessed.
"Riley..."
"You don't have to say anything."
"I miss you too," she said, linking her fingers with his. "And I'm sorry that we're in the middle of all this... stuff. My stuff, to be exact. If I could I'd make it all go away... It's not like I haven't tried. Believe me, I've tried."
"It's that hard?"
"No, not hard... just complicated," she said, raising her gaze to have it land on two forms entering through the front door. Both blonde. One demon, the other ex-vengeance. Buffy had truly been counting on not seeing the bleach-head tonight. She felt a swirl of shock at seeing him with Anya. "What the hell?"
Riley furrowed his brow, turning to where she was looking. She felt him stiffen and she rose, pulling him with her. She wasn't about to let this ruin the connection she felt building between her and him. She wasn't going to let anything do that, not even this sudden swivel of common jealousy and alarm rushing through her at the sight of the vampire with the mortal.
"Come on, let's go somewhere... more private," she said.
He seemed to hesitate and she tugged his arm encouragingly. He followed her when she began to move through the crowd. She kept her eyes from going to Spike, wondering if he'd noticed her, if he'd noticed where he was.
Idiot, she thought. And what is he doing here with Anya anyway? When did they get so close? It's the demon club, is what it is. All exclusive. And stop thinking about it. Shrug it off. It doesn't bother you. You have a gorgeous guy whom you're taking to Somewhere Private. And you miss Riley more. More than what!
Spike was just beginning to relax – since no one seemed apt to hit him over the head or tackle him to the ground – but listening to Xander's yapping was beginning to give him a headache. He was about to cut into the bantering when he spotted Buffy. He felt himself grow cold when he noticed who she was with. Then he was fiery hot, the sensation rising through him in a flash. He wanted to pave way through the crowd and step between those two, give Soldier Boy a good, brutal push into a wall somewhere... But of course, he couldn't do that. Especially here. That would make the lax turn into howling football team protecting one of their bloody quarterbacks. Or whatever Riley would be.
"Right then," he said to Xander and Anya, "I'll leave you to it."
Then he stepped down and began to move through the crowd.
Riley made Buffy stop and she turned to him, wondering.
"I wanna stay here," he said and she was about to offer her objection when he continued: "If we go to my room I'll want to be... close. And we can't be that right now. If we were, tomorrow I'd wake up and ask myself what it meant, and I don't ever wanna do that with you."
She looked at him, wishing so badly that she could make it easier on him.
"Tell me what you do want," she said.
"I want one dance," he smiled.
"Just one?" she smiled back.
"Just one," he then confirmed before stepping into her.
She closed her eyes as his arms went around her.
This was so nice; a living, breathing, healthy young man who was in love with her. Instead of an undead, still-hearted killer who was so much older than her she couldn't even grasp it. And the icing on the cake with that one was, of course, that he couldn't stand her. He could kiss her. But he couldn't stand her. He could take advantage of her. But he couldn't stand her. And it was the same for her, naturally, so it didn't matter. She could look at him, have her eyes in his since he was standing right across the room nonchalantly glaring at her, and not feel even the slightest of a buzz.
She struggled with her heart beat. And she had some trouble with the pleasant shiver running over her shoulders as she couldn't get her gaze out of his, and his was growing more intense by the second.
Damn it!
She cuddled closer to Riley, and then realized what she was doing; Spike raising one eyebrow, obviously not oblivious to it either. And had it worked? He didn't seem to be standing knee-deep in a raging sea of envy, now did he? She swallowed, forcing herself to hide her face against Riley's shoulder, drawing a breath to steady herself. When she casually glanced up again Spike was gone.
Good riddance, she thought. Hopefully he was taken down under and zapped a few times for even showing up here.
She felt Riley's grip tighten a little and had guilt pour itself into her. What was she doing?
The music ended.
They stepped apart.
"What now?" she asked silently, wanting him to save her from it all; from herself; knowing that he couldn't.
"I know what I need – and that's to be apart from you 'til I can be with you."
She smiled tryingly and he smiled back, though his was tainted with melancholy.
"Soon," she promised, meaning it with all the care she held for him; standing on her toes and kissing him on the cheek.
They parted slowly.
Buffy hesitated, contemplating what to do next. Finally deciding on going to look for Willow. She couldn't spot her anywhere. She searched the crowd and came up with nothing, growing more and more frustrated. Just a sight of red hair would suffice. What, did she leave? Just like that? Without saying hello? ...Or good-bye? Where would she be?
Buffy paused, thinking. Then decided to go find the nearest keg.
She almost turned and went the other way when her eyes landed on Spike's back. But as he looked up and straight at her it was too late and she resigned to merely crossing her arms over her chest. He raised the plastic cup to his lips, eyeing her. She glared back, not amused by the sudden twinkle in his blue eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she finally asked.
"What are you doing here?" he responded. "Shouldn't you be making it comfy-cozy with Captain Cardboard?"
"Comfy-cozy?"
"This party lacks life. And what's with the music? You helped plan it, didn't you?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, don't get all huffy, love... Décor's nice. Then again, we both know that is your strong suit. And hey, if all this grinding and groping does it for you, I'm not one to bloody judge. All's end that end's well and all that."
"What are you talking about?"
"Soldier Boy."
"Yeah, 'cause that clears it right up! God! You just couldn't keep to your side of the fence, could you? You had to come and... show up!"
"I didn't show up here 'cause I longed to jump the bloody fence, Slayer. Anya brought me here. Bint's mad. But then, seems like her insanity showed me how slack the boys really are. And free beer – not to mock. I kinda like it here. Maybe you should try out my side...?"
"Spike, just..." She trailed off. "I'm done trying to reason with you. Can't you get that I don't want you anywhere near me?"
His gaze was hurt for one moment and she felt a wave of sympathy near her heart for no apparent reason , accompanied by a swell of regret. She'd just lied him right in the face. But then his eyes turned cold.
"Fine then," he grumbled, turning from her and leaving the spot as well as the room.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, indecisive. Then she followed.
Spike spotted an empty chair and headed up to it, having a seat and taking another mouthful of his beer, wanting desperately to not care what the blonde whirlwind of death for all that was dear to him said. But her words were still stinging. Even more so the look in her eyes as she'd said them. He could do nothing but believe them. And she was actually getting back together with that... that... poof! Captain sodding Cardboard out to save the world?
"I did that once," Spike muttered to himself. "Didn't even get a pat on the back for that one."
Suddenly she sat down next to him and he turned his head to her.
"This whole nowhere-near-you speech would have a more lasting impact if you didn't come find me five minutes after you delivered it, pet."
"Since when do you listen to anything I say?" she shot.
"Buffy..."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like... it means something."
He stared at her and she held his gaze before suddenly looking away, then rising to her feet. She disappeared out of sight and he sat still for another few minutes before finishing his beer and standing as well. Heading for the front door he was torn between on the one hand needing to find her, to confront her with all these things he couldn't quite comprehend that were still manifesting themselves within him – he thought that perhaps, if he could say them out loud, they'd leave him alone; and on the other hand wanting to lock himself in his crypt for as long as it might take all those incomprehensible things to go away.
The way she had looked at him just now. It had soothed all those worries...
Why do I even have worries! She's nothing. Nothing but a killer. A shell hosting something that feels nothing but hostility towards you and your whole race. She means it alright, when she says she wants you as far away as bleeding possible. Don't think that she is what she was, 'cause she's not.
But then he felt like it didn't matter.
And that was the worst feeling of all.
¤
"Will, I'm leaving," Buffy said, Willow looking surprised.
"But it's still early. The music's just picking up. Can't you stay a little while longer?"
"I'm sorry," Buffy replied. "I'll see you on Monday."
"Going home?"
"Yeah... I need to."
"I get it. Take care."
They hugged before Buffy grabbed her pocketbook and headed outside.
Leaving the house behind her she was greeted by quiet. Her feet hitting the pavement echoed across the street, but she didn't mind. The lonesome sound actually made her feel a bit better, and the steady rhythm of her shoes against ground helped her clear her head.
Who did this to me? she wondered for the thousandth time. Who could've done this to me? Why? Why take a simple little wish so literally? Who could have thought I meant it? ... Okay, so maybe a part of me meant it, but... still! What could anyone possibly have to gain from me...? I can't even think it, how am I supposed to deal with this? I can't! I can't do this.
She ended up walking around aimlessly for another hour, finally arriving outside the door of her house and looking up at it. All the windows were dark. Her mother was asleep. The Slayer smiled to herself, walking up to the tree standing below her bedroom window and beginning to expertly climb it. It may have been a few years since she actually saw this entrance into her room as a necessary part of patrolling, but the skill hadn't abandoned her. She reached the sill and pushed the window up, not very surprised that it was open. She always forgot to latch it. Slipping inside she had a surge of memories erupt and she stood still in the darkness for a long while. Thinking of times passed, and wishing they didn't feel so far away and so near at the same time.
Angel.
She frowned, walking up to her bed and sitting down.
She had a sudden urge to call him. To tell him what was going on. Ask his advice. He knew Spike better than anyone. He could tell her...
She stopped that train of thought right there. First of all, Angel and Spike weren't exactly the best of pals, and as far as she knew they never had been very close. So, Angel would flip if she told him; and Spike would explode over her telling his grandsire. Not that she in any way cared what Spike thought.
"Stop," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. "God, just stop. Please."
She lay back, desiring nothing but sleep. Then she felt a familiar sensation at the nape of her neck and sat up again, furrowing her brow. Rising she walked back up to the window, gazing down and grumbling as she pushed the window up again, climbing outside with determined movements and quickly descending the tree, jumping to the ground and straightening up to face Spike.
He didn't want to feel insecure, but all of a sudden that was all he could feel. What the hell was he doing there? She was pissed as a rabid dog and if she bit him he was bound to scream bloody murder because if anyone was to do any sort of biting it should be him.
That brought the dream from the night prior back and he took a slight step back, observing her.
She really did look pissed off.
"I need this to end, right now," she said, glancing at the house as if expecting the lights to flicker on in her mom's bedroom.
"I'm sure she's sound asleep," he murmured and she took a step forward, her whole being tensing.
"I mean it," she said.
"Buffy!" Willow's voice sounded and Buffy jerked, practically jumping three feet away from the vampire as she looked at the approaching redhead.
Willow seemed completely freaked out.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.
"Haunting... Poltergeist. Xander and Anya are trapped. You have to come. Now!"
Willow glanced at the vampire, then turned and began to head back the way she'd come.
Buffy turned her head to Spike, not even sure what she wanted to say. He didn't seem to be either, and then they simply got moving at the same time. As they caught up with Willow Buffy forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.
"Exactly what happened?"
"People began to act weird. A fight broke out between a few of the guys... There were a bunch of arguments. It was this presence and it was angry, Buffy. Really, really angry. We did some research, and it turns out the house wasn't always a fraternity. Kids lived there. You know, runaways, juvenile delinquents; kids with issues and they were taught to suppress everything."
"What's with Xander and Anya?"
"They're locked in a room and won't open the door. I could hear them screaming at each other and... Buffy, I'm really scared. It sounded like it could get violent."
They hurried their step, soon arriving back at the fraternity, now empty. Giles was waiting for them.
"Thank goodness," he said. "Did Willow fill you in?"
"Sounds pretty basic. Get in and get them out. Any weapons for me?"
"Only you, I'm afraid."
"That makes you afraid?" she asked, then smiled, taking off her jacket and tossing it to Willow before heading for the door.
She opened it and stepped inside, being met by a harsh wind which almost made her take a step backwards. Almost. She fought it, and after another three – hard-earned – steps, the wind stopped. She paused.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm curious," Spike replied, standing right behind her.
"I don't have time to argue," she muttered, moving forward. He followed. "Keep your eyes open."
There was a sudden blinding light coming flaring through the rooms and they both closed their eyes tightly, the wind starting up again and Buffy felt Spike lean against her, pinning her to a wall as the force of the gust began to move furniture around. Again it stopped, as suddenly as last time, and Buffy realized she was holding onto him for dear life.
She stayed in his embrace for a few more moments, and then grew aggravated in an instant, the feeling so powerful that she pushed him away from her harshly. He stumbled back, surprised.
"Get off me, Spike."
He stared at her, then felt the unfolding rage in her stance mirror in his own chest.
"What is your problem! I bloody well wanna know!"
"You wanna know?" He merely gave her a look. "Fine. This situation we're in, that's my problem. That it doesn't just miraculously disappear, that's my problem. That you're a demon, that's a huge problem! I liked it before. I enjoyed our seething hatred and random, uncommitted encounters. That was fun. Now, all of a sudden, we have to use the phrase 'Remember the good old days?' for days that aren't that old, but that we can't get back to. They're gone. And now... what!"
"You're asking me! I'm as lost as you are, Slayer. ...Can't you're little gang get together and figure it out? Isn't that what you do?"
"Right there, that's why I hate you!"
"Was it something I said?"
"You're completely self-involved. You don't see or care to see anything outside your own world. You despise everyone else, but always expect everyone else to fix whatever the hell's wrong with your life."
"What?"
"Angelus came knocking, stealing your precious Dru-zilla – you came to me."
"Hey, they were about to kill us all. I helped you out, Slayer."
"Excuse me!"
"What would you have done? You were losing, and would've lost if it hadn't been for me."
"You took Dru, slung her over one shoulder and left town! You left me fighting Angelus."
"I knew you could take him!"
"You hoped he'd kill me, you mean."
He opened his mouth to insist he hadn't, then changed his mind.
"Yeah," he agreed and she clenched her hands into fists.
"Drusilla ran for the hills and where'd Spikey go? Sunnydale, for reasons unknown, to kidnap Willow and make her fix it for him."
"Hey... I gave the idea up..."
"Spikey gets chipped and where does he seek help? Once again, me."
"You think I wanted to come to you?"
"I think you did."
"Talk about self-involved. Since when have you ever tried to step out of your safe little cocoon of righteousness and notice that the world is a mess? We live in the pit of it and I agree, it does attract the worst of the lot; but you think demons are the only bad force on Earth? We're not. The human race is a bloody disgraceful excuse for the greater good. You're capable of evil that is unspeakable, and you dare sit on your high horse and judge me!"
"Spike, I know the deal! I know humanity is growing less humane by the minute, but know what, it's not my turf. Demons are what I have to fight every single day until it kills me; and surprise, I haven't met a vampire yet that didn't deserve a stake through the heart."
"Not even Angel?"
She froze, her eyes turning chilly.
"Don't bring him into this. He has nothing to do with it."
"Nothing to do with it?"
"Angel was different. He had a soul."
"Oh, bloody stop with the soul! It made him weak. And... broody."
"It made him stronger than you'll ever be," she stated. "You can't love."
Spike's face grew set at that.
"I want it to be over," Buffy murmured.
"Want what to be over?" he muttered, his eyes sharp in hers and she swallowed.
"Every time I see you now I can't think of anything but..."
She trailed off.
"What?" he asked silently.
"This," she said with a slight gesture to the both of them. "Tell me it was all a lie."
He held her gaze for another moment, then said:
"It was..."
The sound of breaking glass from upstairs made them both turn their heads that way.
"Xander!" Buffy exclaimed, racing up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway in search of the origin of the noise.
She could hear raised voices and soon found the right door. Spike was on her heel and when she stepped back he stopped beside her, watching her kick the door in and step inside. Anya was holding a heavy award made of crystal, about to throw it at a cowering Xander. She looked over at Buffy and seemed to slowly wake out of whatever craze she'd been under, looking questioningly at the Slayer and then over at Xander, who was bleeding from a cut on his forehead.
"Oh, God, Xander," Anya said, dropping the award to the floor and rushing over to him.
Buffy let out a breath of relief. Turning her head to where she expected Spike to be. He was gone. She felt her heart sink. She really hated when he did that.