Immortal, Chapter 10
What happened?
What bloody universe was he living in?
Buffy and him were down by the mouth of Hell itself. Where the literal fabric holding apart and separating different dimensions and realms of Hell was so weak one could almost cut through it with a knife. Maybe he misstepped, ran through a split, the smallest crack, between existences. Ended up thrown into a mirror universe or alternate reality without even realizing it.
Unlikely. All but impossible. But that would make more sense, be more plausible, than what just happened.
Something changed. Something was different. For how many times he told himself it didn't matter, that it didn't change anything, and those thoughts were commonly thrown towards the Slayer lately...her actions, the way she spoke to him, her small acts of kindness, and his own reaction when he cut her down with his words...well, he couldn't deny it anymore.
It mattered. It changed things.
Maybe not much, but it did.
What happened? What bloody universe was he living in?
The same one, he knew that, but oh boy was it different than only a few hours ago. He leaned back, taking a deep inhale from his cigarette. Always tastier, a little better, after a good shag. Wasn't really, not by definition. He didn't take her, and she didn't spread herself open and accept him. Not a shag. But a bloody revelation none the less.
He drifted off into thought, daydreams and possibilities running through his head. Different than his usual theatre of the mind. Not a single fight between him, plenty of visions of him being buried in her, that wasn't uncommon, but these thoughts didn't involve his fangs and her neck. Not at all.
The only thoughts where they struggled against one another were much different than usual, less clothes, struggling against each other, sure, but in unison and towards climax as they clung to each other.
IMMORTAL
Spike didn't try to hide his presence. Walking up casually, cigarette hanging from his lips, as Buffy fought against the oversized demon. Chaos demon, antlers and ooze everywhere, and a reminder of a bad memory. Not that he cared much at the current moment, too focused on the sexy, petite, bite-sized blonde Slayer in front of him to get lost in memories of Dru's infidelity.
Buffy shot him a couple glances, clearly irritated he offered no assistance, not that she needed help. The bastard was outmatched, but he noticed a few openings she didn't take advantage of. Maybe he was distracting her, or maybe she would rather prolong the fight than talk to him. This conversation at least, a fight for your life was probably preferable. No doubt, with the way she ran out of his crypt the previous night, she was dreading it.
After about a minute, the demon fell. Bleeding out from the stake wound, neck broken or at least fractured, twitching on the ground for a few moments before it went still. She looked at him, hesitation mixed with frustration plastered on her face, as she shook some excess demon juices off her hands. She looked down, scrunching her nose up in disgust as the demon began to liquify and flow into the ground beneath it.
"Most girls," Spike said, wasting no time getting right into it, voice heavy with hints of lust from the previous night. "Well, most girls kiss a bloke well 'fore they're ready to blow his mind, pet. You went out of order." He flicked the short cigarette out of his hand, not concerned with the few extra inhales he could have gotten out of it.
"Not most girls," She said. Spike smirked, her words were an understatement in a variety of ways. She dropped her eyes, voice barely above a whisper. "And I kissed you last night."
"Understatement there, love." He said.
"What do you want, Spike?" She asked.
"A talk maybe, to understand a few things." He replied.
She locked eyes with him, her eyes holding rapidly shifting emotions. "Oh, I'm sure," She said, turning and beginning to walk down the row of gravestones.
Spike fell in step with her.
"What you did was...well, a bloody revelation pet. You left too soon, ran out ashamed and scared." Spike didn't do a great job of masking the bit of hurt in his tone, and Buffy picked up on it. "Didn't give a fellow a chance to- "
"Not ashamed," She said as she stopped in her tracks, turning to look at him. "I'm a big girl. Quit telling me I'm ashamed when I'm not."
Spike moved his head back on his shoulders. Not expecting the intensity of her reply or refusal of his words. Wasn't the first time he accused her of holding shame about her actions lately, but it would be the last.
"Assumed is all," He said under his breath.
"Well don't, please." She replied. "I don't regret what I did. I'm not ashamed of what I did."
"Ran out like you were," Spike said, taking advantage of the opening to press her further. "Ran out before I had the chance. Make you feel half as amazing as you made me. Make you feel like a real wo- "
"I didn't," Buffy interrupted. Shaking her head, she stumbled over her words. "I wasn't...Spike, I didn't do what I did, just so you could return the favor."
"Right," Spike said with a nod. "Selfless act through and through. Bloody amazing what you did. Worshipping and all that, deserved to be worshipped yourself."
She dropped her head, feeling a blush fall across her cheek.
"Even if you didn't expect it, wanted to." Spike said, voice tender and seductive enough she looked back up at him. "An' then some. Wanted to make you feel amazing. Like a real woman and all that tosh. Stretch you out, keep you cumming until your toes go numb and you can hardly take it anymore. Like Angelus and that college boy never could."
She stared at him. He half expected a punch, directly to the face, for choosing words so bold. She didn't raise a fist at him. Face shifting between something resembling intrigue, then sadness, then something else entirely. Made his head hurt and thoughts collapse upon themselves even more.
"I can't, Spike." She whispered out. "I can't."
"Lot of things I didn't thing you were capable of, pet," Spike said, bold enough to reach out and place his hand softly against her hip. She didn't pull back or flinch, leaning in a few inches as she looked up at him. "Til' last night." He continued. "Think you can. Think you want it as much as me."
"I do," She rasped out, a sparkle of moisture in her eyes noticeable in the moonlight. "But I can't. I won't."
Spike was caught off guard by her admittance, she wanted it too, and didn't try to maintain physical contact, letting his hand fall away from her as she took the tiniest step away from him.
Didn't make sense. None of this did.
"Think you can, pet. Think if we went back to my spot right now you would." He said, pushing but hoping it wasn't too much. He wanted her, hoped he wasn't ruining his chance.
"I don't want to be used. And I'm not going to use you like that. I can't." She said.
"Don't mind," Spike said, hoping he wasn't tilting his hand too much. "Evil, soulless thing 'member? Don't much mind being used, not like this."
"You don't mean that," She said. Her eyes burnt through him, her question demanding to be answered. "Can you tell me, honestly, that being used doesn't hurt? Being taken advantage of? You're okay with it?"
Bollocks, she was perceptive. More so than he gave her credit for. Must have picked up on it, during his last stint in town, how everything with Angelus and Dru was tearing him apart. Tearing through him and shredding him apart piece by piece.
"Won't lie," Spike said, his voice faltering slightly before he caught himself. "No sod, demon or bleeding heart, likes it much. But when it's been so long since you've...Since you've been used, don't mind it much. 'Specially if it's like last night, pet. Won't mind that a bit."
"Well, I can't," She shot back. "I've done it. I've been with people who don't care at all. To not feel anything, to feel something, I don't know. It doesn't help."
It unsettled him, made his skin crawl. He didn't like it. Slayer was upset and it bothered him. That made him uncomfortable. The fact he couldn't think of a way to make her feel better? Well, that was agonizing. At least for a brief moment.
Didn't make any sense.
But something did, her words falling into place in his head.
"So that's it then?" He asked, voice louder and a bit condescending. "Can drop to your knees, that's fine and all, but to spread 'em you need...you need," He shook his head, "Candles and dimmed lights, and poetry about your quivering womanhood to- "
"Fuck you," She threw at him, eyes flickering with anger.
Caught him by surprise. Made him take a step back, figuratively, but he regained composure and pushed the issues.
"Bloody hell, that is it," He continued. "Need to feel loved and appreciated, like it means something, like it means everything?"
"No," She spat back, not even believing her own words. "Maybe. I don't know." She dropped her head.
Silence.
Finally, she managed to look back up at him, voice only holding the truth. "I don't need scented candles and music, and rose petals on the bed. But I need more than...more than just being..." She gave up on her statement, finishing with, "Doesn't matter how incredible it would feel. How much I want it. I can't."
"It's not just that, pet, not what you think it is," Spike said in a convincing tone, it wasn't a lie to him.
Her eyes and the expression on her face said she didn't believe him, but she wanted to.
"Things are different between us, yeah?" He said. "And not just because of last night. Sure, opened my eyes, bloody wide open. But they've been different for a bit now. Something's changed pet. Didn't notice it at first but it did."
She nodded her head. Yeah, things were different. She appeared, a woman in love with him, one that viewed him as her soulmate, completely overwriting and erasing a woman that looked like her but held no such feelings in an instant. Yeah, things changed and were wildly different.
Caution. Restraint. Beans.
"I can't," She repeated, hardly holding it together. She needed to leave, she couldn't be around him right now. She needed to go before she melted into putty in his hands. "I have to go."
"Hardly think this conversation is over." He said.
Something shifted inside her. Maybe it was the fact he was trying to convince her about something she wanted desperately, even more than he did, and she kept refusing him. Refusing herself what she wanted the most. Hints of sadness and disappointment she was feeling shifted to anger.
"Amazing," Buffy said. She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes. "All it takes is one appearance from blowjob Buffy and now you want to have a real talk? Not just stand there and keep reminding me how you're going to kill me someday! Now you want to have an adult conversation?"
Spike tried to reply, a single syllable dying off his tongue before his mouth fell open. He didn't really have a reply to that. Felt a bit of shame if he could, maybe William blushing somewhere in a dark corner of his mind.
"I would have sucked you off sooner, if I knew it would have made you less of an asshole." She seethed, turning on her heels and walking off.
"Slayer," He called out.
She spun around so fast her neck cracked at Spike's use of the 'S word'.
"You can't have me," She fired back. "It's not happening Spike. Get over it."
His jaw clenched, the person he had been for the last few minutes disappearing completely, as his eyes and face shifted back to the cold, icy look he had given her so many times before.
"I'm here Slayer," He said, tone cold and uncaring. She couldn't help but notice as his hands drifted down to his belt line, drawing focus to what laid between them. "Hard, willing, able. When you get over yourself."
"If," She fired back. "If, Spike. And don't hold your breath!"
She didn't wait for his comeback, turning back around and stomping off.
"Can hold my breath all day, Slayer!" He yelled in her direction. "Dead 'member?"
The statement was obvious, and Buffy knew exactly what he was getting at. He thought he could outlast her, bide his time, sit back and wait until she came begging for it. He was right. Absolutely and unquestionably correct.
Spike didn't know it for certain, but she did.
IMMORTAL
She felt him. Tossing and turning, working through anger and sorrow that took turns bombarding her heart and mind, and his presence somehow comforted and simultaneously haunted her. Right there outside, like the previous week and so many times before.
She couldn't sleep.
Every once in a while the urge to open up her window popped into Buffy's mind. Sometimes, it was to yell at him to go away. That wouldn't work. Spike was smart and would realize if she knew he was here now then she did before. Other times, so she could hop down from the second story and rush into his arms.
Neither option was a good one.
Why was she refusing him?
Why was she refusing herself?
She knew it was the right thing, somehow, but it didn't make complete sense to her. So she didn't use him? No, it wasn't like before. She was his, known only to herself. Whatever he wanted, emotionally or physically, she would give. All she could spare and then some.
Was it so he didn't use her? So she didn't become some plaything, some vampire's booty call, that he could sink his cock into whenever he wanted to pass the time until he could sink his teeth in instead? Maybe. She could feel the bile in her throat from the thought and knew the truth.
That was it.
Spike was starting to change. She couldn't see any incremental shifts he was undergoing, but occasionally his emotional walls would fall, however short-lived, and she would see him. But still, he wasn't fully there yet.
And even worse, she knew exactly what he was capable of when he didn't have a soul. Things left unsaid and forgotten, easier when all of Sunnydale ceased to exist and she wasn't only feet away from the bathroom where that happened.
The man would overpower the demon, but it would take time. No matter how much she trusted him, wanted to put her faith in him, if she did too soon it would end poorly. Maybe tragically, as Oruvai once said.
All it was, all she was to him at this point was sex. That was it. She wanted that too, but so much more. His attitude tonight, his words and actions, that wasn't the man yet. It was the demon, seducing and saying what it thought best to get what it wanted. The man, William, a fundamental part of Spike no doubt wanted the same. But it was much more his demon trying to take, like it always would when it decided it wanted something, then it was remnants of William Pratt and his courting attempts.
She knew she couldn't resist forever, it was a matter of time. She was afraid. Maybe it was unnecessary, but she was terrified.
However unlikely it was, she didn't want to end up a footnote in some Watcher's journal. A small (a) directly above and slightly to the right of the last word in a sentence ending '...killed his third Slayer.' She didn't want to end up some tiny scribbling on the bottom of the page, in smaller font, detailing how William the Bloody may have had a brief, sexual relationship with his third Slayer before he claimed her life.
Any possibility of that frightened her to the core. She snapped herself out of the horrible head space, coming back to reality and her spot on her bed. She pushed her senses out, a lump in her throat forming when she didn't feel him outside in her yard.
He was gone.
IMMORTAL
One week and counting. Less actually. It wouldn't be long until her relationship with Maggie Walsh would redefine itself, no longer as simple as intense, perfectionist professor and mediocre student with too many other responsibilities to focus on her education. Buffy needed to keep going to class for that to happen. Even if she didn't want to. Even if she wanted to stay in bed. She needed to drag herself to campus, and she did.
At some point Willow would likely take offense. That she was spending so much time and so many nights at home instead of in the dorms. At this point, she still felt guilty enough about the spell mishap to not press the issue. Still, Buffy knew it was a topic of discussion that Willow would eventually bring up. She couldn't help but think maybe she should make more of an effort to stay in the dormitory. At the very least, being much closer would make it easier to find the motivation to continue attending class.
Either way, she got to campus with a few minutes to spare.
Buffy sat in the classroom, eyes drifting to the clock. Professor with a dark secret was a couple minutes late. She zoned out, thoughts falling on common topics, not paying much attention to the students chatting all around her.
Her eyes were drawn to the door when it opened.
Not Walsh, but a middle-aged man that looked familiar. Another professor at the school she realized, seen in passing on a few occasions, before he began talking. Professor Hummel was his name, as he quickly explained he was filling in while Professor Walsh was away. Must have been last second, as he wasn't prepared and asked the classroom what they had been going over recently.
Psychology and stuff, Buffy muttered to herself, slightly frustrated. She was going to be pissed if her changes to the timeline resulted in Walsh taking a sabbatical or vacation to the Caribbean when she was supposed to be here. Walsh needed to be here, absolutely had to be here.
Great. Add it to the list. Now she had to figure out a way to get some information on Walsh. Faculty and administrative staff weren't known for giving students information on staff members. Was she out for a few days with the flu or would it been an extended absence? She missed what the male student to her right said, but caught what the girl with the brunette pixie cut said in reply.
"Sarah said she was gone yesterday too."
"Figures," The boy said with an eye roll. "You miss three classes and she fails you, but she can take a week off whenever she wants. Bullshit."
Buffy turned forward in her seat. Thinking back, trying to remember if Walsh took any leave of absence the fist time that she couldn't remember. Mind running at breakneck speed. No, not this close to everything with Adam. She was supposed to be here, she couldn't help but worry about why she wasn't.
Another thought hit her in the chest. Riley. He wasn't there to provide backup at the school. He was last time. Riley and Walsh were both MIA. For the last two days, and she was too caught up worrying about everything with Spike to really notice.
She stood up, quickly putting her belongings in her bag before heading towards the door. She didn't notice the eyes on her, even Professor Hummel was no longer talking as he watched her movement through the classroom.
"Excuse me, what are- " He started.
"I'm sorry, I have to go." She offered in apology before hastily walking out.
Her feet carried her through the hallways, her body on auto-pilot as her brain thought of countless, horrible possibilities. She almost plowed into a few students, on their way to or from their own classes. Most offered an apology, even though it was her fault, but she was too lost in thought to do the same.
The double doors to the building swung closed behind her as she ended up outside, near an area where most students relaxed, studied, and killed time in between classes.
She scanned the small crowd of students sitting outside, on benches and tables and even some on the ground with a blanket, as her feet finally came to a stop. She saw a girl, vaguely familiar but always in Forrest's orbit when he was around campus. His girlfriend maybe, or perhaps a childhood friend, but she was around Forrest a lot the first time.
She walked as quickly as possible, intent on reaching the girl and her blonde friend she was sitting with at a nearby picnic table.
"Jenn," Buffy said, "Jenn?"
The girl turned her head to look at her, a bit of confusion on her face. "Jess." She corrected.
"Right, Jess. Sorry." Buffy replied, not doing a great job at seeming casual. "Have you seen Forrest?"
Buffy noticed the look Jessica gave her. A bit of jealousy flashing across her facial expressions. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Buffy, I'm a friend." Buffy said, noticing as Jessica shifted in her seat and stared at her. "Sorry, I just- I need to talk to him."
Jessica's eyes drifted to her friend, before returning to Buffy. The scowl on her face shifted to a frown. "He's sick, I think. Didn't show up today." Her eyes fell, and she said at a much lower volume, "Or answer his phone last night."
She turned to leave, uttering an apology as she fled from the area. Completely unaware as Jess and her friend stared and talked about her as she left.
Her pace shifted to a run after a while. Unable to breath, not from the cardio, as she took off in the direction of the nearest entrance to the Initiative's compound. The tunnel, over by the frat and sorority houses, that seemed as unassuming as a water outlet.
She couldn't believe her eyes as she got close. Two service trucks, roped off area, and a few workers near the concrete pipe that was now collapsed and caved-in with concrete and earth and all sorts of debris.
"Excuse me," Buffy rasped out, louder the second time. "Excuse me."
One worker, in the same yellow vest as the others, turned to face her. He was a bit older, no shovel or pick axe in hand, as he stepped towards her.
"Yes miss?" He asked.
"What-what happened here?" She asked.
"Collapsed, evening before last." He replied.
"What?" She managed, not actually wanting a reply as her brain tried to process everything.
"Yeah, night before last. Don't even know why we're trying to dig it out." The man's hand fell to the back of his neck. "Just waiting for the city to tell us to give up I guess. We don't got enough guys for a job this size. It'll take us months to- "
He stopped his statement as the young girl turned and ran away without saying anything.
"Hey. Hey!" He tried, shaking his head and giving up. Turning around, he went back to supervising his workers.
IMMORTAL
No demons outside.
Lucky for them, because they couldn't stop what was about to happen.
She ran across the street, stopping a few feet from the door that led into Mark's safe house.
She listened, reached out with her senses. Some tiny part of her brain told her this was a horrible idea. A larger part told it to shut up. There was a big difference between being in the back room with over a dozen demons between her and the nearest exit, and what was about to happen.
She would fight and stake and kill, and if she had to give them room as more showed up to join in she would. She didn't care if it spilled onto the street. They were all getting sent to Hell, and if any Sunnydale resident happened to witness her battle with demons and vampires at least townies were good at rationalizing and forgetting. Besides, there was a few hours of daylight left. If she got overwhelmed, the vamps couldn't follow if it spilled outside.
She listened.
There was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No tingling on her neck or any crawling of her skin to signify any vampire were inside. Her senses weren't nearly as skilled at picking up on most demons, but nothing in that regard either. No hints of movement inside or any sounds, none at all.
Her right hand gripped her stake, left hand twisting on a doorknob that refused to budge.
Locked.
It flew open from a well-placed kick, barely staying on its hinges and she stepped inside.
Empty.
Abandoned.
Some of the furniture remained, but that was all.
She rushed through the small safe house, from room to room, foolishly hoping that Mark would be there although she already knew the truth. His office was empty, only the desk and chairs remained.
She stood near the threshold to his office, feet frozen in place. Tears fell down her face, their origin stemming equally from rage and despair.
There was a piece of paper on his desk.
She rushed to close the distance, grabbing the single piece of paper and holding it up near her face.
Figure you'll probably read this when you come back for vengeance. Figure an explanation is the least I can do.
They're dead.
Always planned on killing them all. They cost me money and threatened my whole operation, more than I let on during our little business meeting.
Had to get you out of here thinking we might work together. Didn't want things to get bloody. Sure, Slayer or not my boys would have ripped you apart but not before you killed Alice and me.
-M
P.S. that freak of nature in that lab? You were right, it needed to go. That thing belongs in Hell, not walking around up here with the rest of us. We sent it there in a million tiny pieces.
Consider it the closest thing to an apology you'll get from me. No need to worry about that freak anymore.
Don't try finding me because you won't.
The paper slipped from her trembling hands, falling back against the desk before it slid off and landed on the floor.
Not just her hands, her whole body was shaking.
"Oruvai," She choked out, her voice barely audible.
"Oruvai!"
He appeared. Snapping in place towards the exit to the office, body turned slightly away from her. When he turned, his face held understanding and sadness. She didn't know what to say. Her brain couldn't work, couldn't process everything that happened. One only thought materialized, and it was simple but undeniably true.
"I made a mistake."
