Chapter Nine
She sat quietly in front of the mirror, looking at the empty room behind her. She felt him standing there, but it intrigued her that he wasn't reflected in the mirror. Spike's room was almost exactly like hers. It fascinated her that such identical rooms could feel so different from one another.
"I wonder why God never gave vampires reflections." she asked quietly, chocking her head slightly to the side. Spike chuckled weakly and shook his head.
"Don't think God has anything to do with it, love. Last I checked, we undead go to Hell." he said quietly, taking a few steps toward the mirror. Angela didn't turn around, but Spike could see her smiling in the mirror.
"Don't be ridiculous. God created everything." she pushed her long blonde hair off of her neck for the first time and Spike could see the tiny gold cross perched on her neck. "Even you, William."
Spike stopped walking forward and narrowed his eyes. "So, that's it, isn't it?"
Angela finally turned around and gave him a crooked little smile.
"You want me ta off you so it's not a sin," he said, eyes still trained on her necklace. Angela just sighed, that smile still perched on her lips. "Once was a good Christian boy myself."
"I can't go to Heaven without you," she said, looking to the ground and shaking her head deeply. "Not even sure Slayers can go to heaven."
Spike finally tore his gaze away from the necklace and shifted on his feet. Restlessly, he brought a hand up to the back of his neck and let it rest there a minute. Angela didn't say anything. It was the awkward moment of all awkward moments.
After the long few minutes of dead silence, Angela quickly stood up, startling Spike slightly. She looked critically at him again, as if she were trying to find a way to look right through him.
"Do you think I'll go to Heaven, Spike?"
"I don' know, love."
"I want to go to Heaven."
"I know."
"Then you'll help me." she stated simply, eyes still trained on his. She was still trying to look inside him and it made Spike a little uncomfortable. So, he looked away; anywhere but at her.
"I'll help you." he finally answered, quietly. The idea of killing a Slayer used to excite him. It used to bring a charge to his demon that he couldn't describe. Now it just made him sick. She was barely 17, barely old enough to even think about what life was, but already she was asking for death. A part of Spike realized that what he was about to do was seriously wrong. It screamed at him to turn around and run away; that whatever her problem was, it wasn't his and there was nothing he could do about it.
But it was the other part of him that he was listening to. The part that had been awake and alert when the First decided to use him against the only person he'd truly loved enough to die for. He remembered all the horrible emotions that flooded him when he knew he couldn't control the way he was acting. It broke his unbeating heart to know that when he was asleep, he was hurting the people he cared about and the people that Buffy cared about.
To be used as a weapon was hard enough. Not being able to stop it is even harder…
"I'll help you, love." he repeated, flashing a sad little smile. Angela nodded and pulled the collar of her shirt down so her neck was exposed.
"Thank you…" she whispered as he shifted to game face.
Continued...
