Spike was furious. No, beyond that. He was seething. It was outrageous! Spike didn't know where his legs were taking him when he'd left the warehouse, so angry at Dru for her recent encounter with Angel that he paid no attention to his surroundings. He didn't know why it took his minions two days to tell him the situation, and he had made them pay for it after. He took out his anger over Dru on the fledgling vampires, ripping their bloody heads off so fast they didn't have a chance to beg for forgiveness.
Dru had to understand that Angelus was gone, and the wanker was no longer who he used to be. He wondered what they talked about? Old times? Childhood pranks? It was a bit off; them becoming so friendly, with him being the enemy and all that. He was over listening to her prattling on about how Angelus was coming back to them soon. As pathetic as souled-Angelus was, Spike would rather have him as the Slayer's lapdog than back with them. He'd rather not relive his days with Angelus and Darla, which consisted of them shagging Dru while Spike sat in the other room and listened. It was demeaning. Those were the worst years of his vampire existence. It made his pathetic years as William easy compared to the torment he'd gone through in his early days as a vampire with Angelus.
He wasn't the same fledgling vampire that Angel had known in the past. Spike was stronger, had more experience, and had two Slayers under his belt. It'd been just him and Dru for the last several decades; he didn't need Angelus to fuck it all up. Truthfully, Spike had hoped that the git would've gotten himself dusted. He'd heard about Darla's death a year ago and knew she had been in Sunnydale with the Master, but Spike had assumed that her death was the Slayer's doing. Since arriving at Sunnydale, Spike had heard stories from his minions that it wasn't the Slayer who killed Darla but Angelus. If the rumors were true, Angelus was further gone than Spike had thought. Even when he didn't have a soul and didn't give a lick about anyone or anything, he still worshipped the old bitch.
Angelus was never coming back, and Dru needed to get over the idea. There would be no more chatting with him while they were in Sunnydale. If Angel had killed Darla, then he wouldn't hesitate to kill Dru, and she wasn't strong enough to defend herself. And if Dru were to die, Spike would wreak havoc on this town so badly the Slayer wouldn't even be able to stop him.
The Slayer.
Spike growled at the thought of the blonde bitch that had become a constant pain in his arse. He'd been off his game with her. The first night at the school shouldn't have ended the way it had. He should have slammed that pillar into her faster; he should have been quicker but was off his game because of the words she'd said to him before their fight. "Let me guess," she said. "You follow your blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of your brain?" It intrigued him. She knew him somehow, and he wanted to learn more. He hadn't forgotten about her hesitation in staking him either. While he was grateful he wasn't dust, it made him question the Slayer's actions even further. She had to be insane to let him live. Spike had meant his words when he'd told her that she wouldn't be so lucky in the future; as soon as he had the chance, he was ripping her bloody throat out.
And then there was the incident on Halloween night. "There is something between us," she urged, "I can feel it; you must feel it too!" Her words didn't make a lick of sense. The only thing he felt between them was hatred, at least on his side. Spike began to suspect if the Slayer had a slight crush on him. Although he hadn't seen himself in a mirror since his human days, all of the females he'd lure for dinner made him believe he was attractive. He'd also made Dru take pictures of him on an old Polaroid camera in the early 70's so he could see how the bleached hair looked on him, so the Slayer having a crush seemed plausible. He quickly remembered that she and the Big Ape were love birds and quickly pushed that thought away as not possible.
His thoughts were interrupted when he rounded a corner and saw the bane of his bloody existence—the Slayer. Not expecting to bump into her, he couldn't help the joy at the thought of releasing his much-needed anger out on her. Maybe if he were lucky, he'd deliver her head on a spike at Angel's front door. He snickered as he pictured in his head Angel pathetically crying over his true love's death. It would be payback for all the pain and suffering he'd put Spike throughout in his early years as a vampire.
Spike stood there as she continued walking towards him, clearly not sensing his presence, probably lost too deep in her thoughts to notice her surroundings. Weren't Slayers supposed to have accelerated senses of vampires nearby? And she lived in Sunnydale; it was reckless not to know who was around, especially at night. Maybe she wasn't as good as he'd thought, and the two times she'd managed to beat him was merely luck.
Spike saw the exact moment she noticed him; several feet away, her walking abruptly stopped, and she glanced up from the bottom of his shoes to his face. He quickly switched to game face, his fangs itching to rip her throat out. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. He could hear her heart begin to beat faster. Good, he thought. She was wise to be afraid. He wasn't in a good mood tonight, which was a terrible thing for her. Spike refused to lose to her again.
"Hello, cutie," he said, smirking at the evident shock on her face.
Buffy quickly withdrew her stake from her pocket and raised it.
"Spike," she spat. "I'm so not in the mood tonight."
"I could say the same," Spike replied, but he couldn't help the slight frown that formed on his face. Why did it sound more like a warning than a threat?
He quickly dismissed the thought as a familiar scent drifted up to his nose. The same scent he smelled on Drusilla two days ago but had mistaken it for a minion. He hadn't been around Angelus in years and had forgotten his scent, not having enough time to become familiar with it that Saturday night at the school and having been too preoccupied with the Slayer at the time. Spike was very familiar with the smell now, and it intensified his anger.
"Looks like our lovers were friendly with each other the other night, eh?" He taunted, uncertain if she knew that bit of information, but wanting to see her reaction regardless.
"So I've heard," Buffy replied, her eyes narrowed with a stake still firmly in her hand.
Spike growled. "You sound calm; you must not know the true nature of their relationship. It wouldn't surprise me if Angel kept that information to himself. You probably wouldn't look at your hubby the same if you knew some of the things he's done."
Buffy scoffed. "I know what they were to each other in the past," She paused for a minute, looking uncertain before continuing, "but I trust Angel; sucks you can't say the same for your girlfriend, who, by the way, has a worse fashion sense than you."
He dismissed her insult and instead focused on her facial expressions, and how she refused to make eye contact, and the brief pause before she'd said she trusted Angel. He filed that bit of information away for later. He had to be extra cautious of Dru if the Slayer couldn't even fully trust Angel. Souled or not, Angel was a master manipulator. Spike wasn't naive about the power his grandsire had over Dru, and he wouldn't allow things to go back to the way they were. Drusilla was his. That was enough to push him over the edge, and without thought, he attacked.
He roared and threw a punch at her face. She fell to the ground, landing on her back. The look of surprise was evident on her face. She grabbed her stake and jumped back up, landing a punch to his abdomen. He hunched over, but his pain was only momentarily. His fury overrode his pain as he quickly recovered and punched her hard. She flew back and landed on a nearby bench. Spike stalked towards her, ready to end this once and for all.
Buffy's back made direct contact with the sidewalk bench. She groaned as the jolting pain raced through her body on impact. She looked up to see Spike coming towards her, his fangs bared and ready to kill. Her eyes widened as she kicked him back. She took more time than she would've liked to stand up; the back pain was almost unbearable. He staggered but quickly recovered, backhanding her. She hit the ground again.
She realized that this wasn't a fight she was going to win. She had to get out of there before Spike killed her. She stood back up, and with as much strength as she could muster, hit him square in the jaw, sending him flying several feet away. She took the opportunity and fled.
Buffy ran as fast as she could from Spike. She had let her guard down that'd nearly cost her life. The entire situation was becoming ridiculous; she couldn't keep doing this. She was going to end up dead. There was no way this situation was going to end well for either one of them. She should tell Giles what happened a year ago and let him figure out what happened. At least she would have some peace of mind about it; maybe there was a deeper reason she couldn't help her feelings for a murderous vampire. There was no other reason to feel this way.
Without noticing, she found herself outside of Willow's front door. She rang the doorbell as she patiently waited for her friend to answer, and when she did, Buffy couldn't stop the tears that began to fall down her cheeks. She wasn't sure what hurt worst: Ford's betrayal, Angel's lying, or Spike's desire to kill her.
"I can't do this anymore, Will," she cried. "I can't kill him. I-I'm a horrible Slayer. Why can't I kill him?"
Willow didn't say anything as she motioned for Buffy to come inside. She put her arms around her as she comforted her. Willow must've noticed how Buffy was clinging to her lower back and immediately understood that she was in pain. Willow went into the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack before coming back into the living room. She handed the ice pack to Buffy and asked, "What happened?"
Buffy placed the ice pack on her lower back and leaned back against the couch, sighing in relief as some of the pain vanished. "I went to Angel's to confront him lying to me about Ford, and when I left, I ran into Spike… Will, he almost…" she hesitated. "He almost killed me. And I couldn't do anything but run away. And it's not going to stop; he's going to keep coming until one of us is dead."
"Have you thought about maybe telling Giles what's going on? I mean, you don't have to tell him your feelings for Spike, but you could tell him about what happened when you died last year," Willow suggested.
Buffy stared down at her fidgeting hands. "I was thinking about it," she admitted.
"I don't think it's a coincidence he showed up in Sunnydale a year later; there might be something bigger going on that we don't know about… and might never figure out unless you say something."
"I know," Buffy replied. Damn. She hated when Willow was all sense-making. Telling Giles would be the right thing to do, but that would also require her explaining to him why she kept it a secret for so long. Buffy was very much a non-confrontational girl when it came to that stuff but knew that she was slowly running out of options. Working up the courage to talk to someone who wasn't Willow would be challenging. And she wasn't exactly sure what Giles' reaction would be when she'd finally admitted to him about her afterlife experience and how she'd been lying to him for over a year. She suspected it wouldn't be any good.
Spike stormed into the warehouse. Angry that he'd missed his opportunity to put the Slayer six feet underground once again. Her luck was going to run out; eventually, that was sure. His mind was so preoccupied with the Slayer that he overlooked Dru in the corner of the room.
"You sing the sweetest little song. Won't you sing for me, hmm? Don't you love me anymore?"
Spike walked over to see Dru in front of a cage, talking nonsense to a dead bird.
He walked up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms gently around her waist. As angry and frustrated as he was with her, he couldn't help but find her insane rambling adorable.
"Are you still cross with me?" she asked.
"Not anymore, luv," he admitted. His frustration over the Slayer still being alive outweighed the anger he felt for Dru earlier today.
"Did you meet anyone while you were out?"
Spike sighed, knowing that there was no point in lying to her. If she didn't smell the Slayer on him, then she saw it in one of her visions. Either way, she knew. "I had a little run-in with the Slayer."
"She's still alive," Dru stated. It wasn't a question.
"Unfortunately," he replied. "I'll get her next time. I'm more worried about getting you back to full strength."
"Maybe," she said and then began singing to the bird lying at the bottom of the cage. "I'll give you a seed if you sing."
Spike frowned. "What do you mean 'maybe'? You don't think I can kill her?"
She ignored him and continued speaking to the bird. "Why won't you sing for mommy?"
Spike growled. "The bird's dead, Dru. You left it in a cage, and you didn't feed it, and now it's dead, just like the last one."
Dru cowered and began to whine. Spike immediately felt like a righteous git.
"Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I'm a bad, rude man. Would you like a new bird?" He asked, taking her hand and sucking on her middle finger. "One that's not dead?"
"This is so cool! I would totally live here."
Spike looked up to see a man standing several feet away. His minions had been severely lacking lately. How this idiot managed to get inside past them was beyond his comprehension. "Do I have anyone on watch here? It's called security, people. Are you all asleep?" He yelled out to his minions. He made a mental note that he had to find new ones later. Of course, there was no answer. Most of them were probably too frightened to face him, especially after his killing rampage when he stormed out earlier. When he turned back towards the young dark-haired man in front of him, there was one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb. Human. "Or did we finally find a restaurant that delivers?"
"I know who you are," he said.
"Yeah, I know who I am too. So what?"
"I came looking for you, Spike," he replied. "You are Spike, right? William the Bloody?"
Spike was becoming rather bored with this conversation. "You've got a real death wish. It's almost interesting."
Spike heard a door open and the income of a blonde vampire–Vanessa, one of the only minions that weren't a bloody idiot. She handed him a book, and he opened it and began to leaf through the pages. This night was starting to get better, as was his mood. He finally found the book that could potentially restore his Black Goddess to full strength, and he got his dinner for tonight delivered to him. "Oh, this is great. This will be very useful."
He slammed the book shut and handed it back to Vanessa. He saw the boy's slight jump as he did. He also heard his pounding heart and could smell the sweat beginning to form on his skin. The confidence the boy came in here with was slowly deteriorating.
"So, how did you find me?" Spike asked.
The boy's eyes drifted to Vanessa and then back to him. Clearly, she wasn't as good a minion as he'd thought. That was disappointing. He'd have to get rid of her as well.
"T-That doesn't matter," he stuttered. "I've got something to offer you. I-I'm pretty sure this is the part where you take out a watch and say I've got thirty seconds to convince you not to kill me? It's traditional."
The boy gave a small smile, but Spike wasn't known for his patience, and this little game the kid was playing was only pissing him off. "Well, I don't go much for tradition." He strode over to him and grabbed his ear, slightly lifting him off the ground. He flinched in pain, and Spike saw him clench his teeth together, probably to try and stop himself from screaming. It was Dru's hand on his shoulder that prevented him from ripping the boy's throat out.
"Wait, love."
Spike let go of his ear and took a step back. "Well?"
"Oh, come on! Say it! It's no fun if you don't say it."
"What?" Spike asked, confused, and then remembered the game the boy was trying to play. He rolled his eyes and bobbed his head. "Oh. You've got thirty seconds to convince me not to kill you."
He clapped his hands together in excitement. "Yes! See, this is the best! I want to be like you. A vampire."
Spike scoffed. "I've known you for two minutes, and I already can't stand you. I don't really feature you livin' forever." He turned towards Dru; his patience had officially exceeded his limit. "Can I eat him now, luv?"
To his disappointment, she shook her head no.
"Well, feature this: I'm offering you a trade."
That got Spike's attention. He snapped his head back towards the boy. He was interested in what he had to say.
"You make me a vampire, and I give you the Slayer."
Spike smiled, liking where this conversation headed. He could hear Dru behind him giggling happily. The boy had Spike's undivided attention. Other than Dru becoming strong again, there was nothing else he wanted more than the Slayer's head on a spike.