Chapter Two

It had been two weeks since Buffy's promotion, and everything was going great. Sort of.

Work was great, Josh was great, New York was great, but her Scooby friends? Not so great.

She could barely get them on the phone, and when she did, there was always some emergency that meant a end to an already short conversation.

Buffy may not be an active Slayer anymore, but she couldn't turn off that voice in her head that shouted 'DANGER'. She tried to push it from her mind, tried to stick to her normal life, but she just couldn't. You can take the girl out of Slaying, but you can't take the Slayer out of the girl.

So she kept trying. Every day she called, and every day she was brushed off.

In an act of desperation, she went to the New York Slayer office. She was quickly asked to leave, and when she tried to demand answers, she was pushed out the door. Forcibly.

Something was happening, something big. Sure, she was retired, but that doesn't mean she couldn't know what was going on, right?

That was her reasoning for breaking into Spike's basement apartment. He was the lead trainer at the New York branch, and worked closely with Cleveland. He would have to know something, anything.

Buffy had planned the break in for days, waiting until she knew Spike would be at the Institute, and took a person day from work.

She couldn't handle being kept in the dark anymore.

She worked her way through the apartment, shuffling through any papers she could find, picking up random books, and putting them back down again.

"There's got to be something," she muttered to herself, putting down another note pad full of scribbles.

"Lost somethin', pet?" A voice sounded from the door way, causing Buffy to jump in shock.

Good one, Buf. Letting a vamp sneak up on you, like some sort of newbie

"Ah um, of course not. I've come to see you, obviously," Buffy replied, lamely.

"That right? Come to see Ol Spike at 3PM on a Thursday? Not really my office hours, love."

"What are you doing home? Why aren't you at your actual office?" Buffy demanded, getting defensive.

"Well when a certain Slayer starts asking unusual questions, a fella might start getting suspicious. Only took a quick call to your office to realise you weren't there. Put two and two together, and look what I found," he explained, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Buffy pouted, cursing herself for not keeping up with her training. Buffy in her prime wouldn't of allowed herself to get caught out like this. Must be slipping in my old age.

"Now pet, why don't you explain why you're ruffling through my possessions."

Buffy sighed in frustration, "you know why! Something is happening, and no one is telling me anything! It's so frustrating, so so.." She trailed off, not being able to find the right word.

"Civilian," Spike finished.

"Yeah! Civilian."

"That's what you are, love. Civilian. Slayer business not your business anymore."

"It'll always be my business. It's in my blood," Buffy tried to explain, desperately.

Spike looked at Buffy sympathetically for a moment, and then up at the ceiling in resignation.

"Bloody hell," he muttered softly, so soft Buffy barely picked up on it.

He looked back at her, "sit down," he instructed, pointing to the couch.

She moved quickly, taking a seat.

"Look pet, if any of the Scoobs know I'm tellin' you this, I'm as good as dust, got that," Buffy nodded quickly.

"Alright," he said hesitantly. "Something big IS coming. Bigger than anything we've ever dealt with before. The Apocalypse is coming."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

"No love, you're not listening. Not A Apocalypse. THE Apocalypse. The Biblical kind."

Buffy knitted her eyebrows together in confusion, "huh?"

Spike sighed, which is strange since he really didn't need to breath, "Lucifer raising from below to make war on the Angel's above."

Without a moment's hesitation Buffy cracked up laughing. Yeah, right. The Devil raging war against Heaven. Buffy looked to Spike, still laughing. His serious face caused her to abruptly stop.

"You're serious?"

"As a heart attack, love."

"What? How?"

"Apparently all it takes is for a couple of seals to break. Some are already broken, break a few more and Bob's your uncle, Lucifer is on vacation," Spike explained, reaching for his cigarettes.

Buffy mind was racing. This was bad. Really bad. The urge to do something was overwhelming her.

Spike saw the conflict in Buffy's eyes, and quickly dropped his cigarette in a nearby ash tray, and grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, "no," he said seriously.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Buffy asked, eyes narrowing.

"You're not a part of this, do you hear me?" Spike replied, slightly angry, "you got out, now stay out. There's hundreds, maybe thousands of Slayers out there. There's nothing you can do that they can't. Stay out of it," he finished, between clenched teeth.

Buffy took a breath, trying to calm her mind. Spike was right. She was retired. Even if she wanted to be back in the fight, she hadn't even trained in two years. She would be an easy target.

"Right. You're right," she mumbled.

"Damn right I am," Spike mumbled back in reply.

"I-I should go. I'm sorry about, ya know, breaking in and going through your stuff."

Spike snorted in laughter.

"S'right Slayer. Go home, and stay out of it."

It had been three weeks, but Buffy couldn't get her conversation with Spike off her mind.

No matter what she was doing, who she was with, all she could think about was her friends and family going into battle without her.

Without meaning to, she starting training again. It started off with going for a jog after work, and then evolved into turning her spare room into a makeshift gym. Soon enough, she was going for late night 'walks'. She told herself it was to clear her head, but deep down she knew what she was doing.

On her third night out, she was attacked by a vampire. It was drawn by her Slayer blood, it could barely help itself. The fight was short but sweet. She may be out of practice but she had been an active Slayer for most of her adult life. It's not something you forgot.

On her sixth night out, she had taken down her fourth vampire in a park near her apartment, when she felt the presence of a master vamp trailing her. This one she knew.

"Spike, stop being creepy," she called to the darkness.

A chuckle came in reply, as Spike stepped out from behind a group of trees. "S'not creepy."

"Watching me behind a bunch of trees? Yeah, that's creepy."

"My ladies have been reporting low vamp sightings. Thought I'd investigate," he explained, lighting a cigarette.

Buffy at least had the decency to look embarrassed. She had been busted. Big time.

"What are you doing, Buffy?" Spike asked, dropping his joking manner.

Buffy immediately got defensive, "My job!" She saw Spike was about to retort, but didn't let him get a word in as she continued, "no wait, let me explain. I'm not looking to get involved, I said I wouldn't, but what if I have to? I can't let myself get out of shape. That's all this is. A work out."

"A work out?" Spike asked with a smirk, "Love, if you wanted a work out, all ya had to do is ask," he finished with a raised brow. He slowly sauntered over to her, oozing sexual prowess.

"Spike, be serious," she said meekly, as he reached her.

"I am," he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist, putting his head to neck to lick and bite and softly.

Buffy tried to keep back a moan, and failed. "'M not going to stop patrolling," she managed to get out.

Spike lifted his head to look at her, "Never thought you should've. You were always at your best with a stake in your hand," he replied seriously. "Not to mention the pheromones you give off when you're all hot and bothered," he finished, leaning down to kiss her roughly.

Buffy kissed him back just as intently, remembering Faith's words all those years ago.

"Isn't it crazy how slayin' just always makes you hungry and horny?"

Buffy wasn't hungry.

She pulled away quickly, breathing heavily. "Let's go back to the apartment," she said huskily.

"Let's stay here," Spike replied, leaning down to kiss her, picking her up as he did. She wrapped her legs around his waist in agreement, as he carried her further into the secluded park.

He pushed her against the rough bark of a nearby tree, pulling back to lift up her skirt, and look in her eyes. "Reminds me of the first time," he said, looking at her intently.

Instantly Buffy's mind shifted back to the night they had first slept together. They had started against the wall, and literally brought the house down with their passion. She was never proud of that time in her life. Spike had been soulless, and misguided, but he had loved her.

He loved her, and she had used it.

Her thoughts were cut off as Spike thrust deeply and roughly inside her, causing her to moan loudly.

Spike chuckled, "not so loud, love." Buffy bit down into his skin to stop herself from crying out loud as he continued a rough and fast rhythm. She bit harder, tasting blood. Spike moaned loudly into her neck at the sharp pain.

He dropped her to the ground, and quickly followed her, climbing on top. They stayed in that position for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other. Buffy hooked her ankles around his back, gripping his hair with one hand. Spike had his arms wrapped across her back, griping her almost painfully. They climaxed within moments of each other, collapsing to the ground, with Spike sprawled across her.

They took their time to get back up, and as they stoop, Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "c'mon love, I'll walk you home."

Buffy smiled. It wasn't like the first time at all.

She may not love him, not the way he wanted but it was nice to be with someone that she cared about, who also cared about her. Spike understood her in ways that most people never will. It'll end some day, but until then, she was happy to stay in his arms.

Buffy's life continued like this for weeks. She went to work during the day, hung out with her friends in the early evening, and her nights were spent either patrolling or with Spike.

It was an unusual life, one mixed with the normal and the supernatural, but, surprisingly, it worked.

For the first time, in a long time, she was content.

Sometimes, she could even forget about Dean.

Not very often, and not for very long, but sometimes her mind wouldn't be with Dean. It was in the moment of combat, or passion that her mind let him go for the moment.

Even when Angel died she hadn't had this overwhelming pain.

With Angel, it was guilt. She was the one who sent him to Hell. Maybe if she hadn't, she wouldn't have been as heartbroken as she was.

Dean was different. She wasn't the one who sent him to Hell, but the pain of his death overshadowed anything she felt when Angel died.

Two years later and she never truly let him go. She closed her heart off and kept going through life as if she didn't need it.

She was happier that way. She didn't want to replace Dean. She never could.

Sometimes she felt guilty when she was with Spike. Not just because it was unfair to him.

She felt guilty because she was betraying Dean. She couldn't even tell herself that he would of wanted her to move on. He would hate that she had taken comfort in a vampire's arms.

But whether she wanted to or not, she had to live without Dean.

Buffy did the best she could. Dean might hate that she was with a vampire, but he would still want her safe and happy.

Right?

APRIL 2014

Every day on this goddamn planet was a nightmare. A living nightmare, reminding him that in the end, we're all holes in the ground.

Maybe a slightly pessimistic way to look at it, but when your fresh out of hell, with a baby brother drinking demon blood, it's hard to think positive.

Seriously, is the world ever going to stop being fucked up?

Dean had been sitting in the same bar stool for an hour and a half, drinking whisky after whisky, always hoping the next glass would be the glass that relaxed him.

This had been life for the past couple months. Hell, for the past year and couple of months. Ever since New York..

Sammy and his Hell bitch just make it worse.

You trust somebody, and they do nothing but throw it in your face.

He trusted Sammy with his life, and then caught him sucking blood from a fucking demon.

And then he left. Chose that Hell bitch over his own brother.

He couldn't even bring himself to think about.. her.

Dean shook his head, and sipped his drink.

He'd lost the two people he cared about most. Maybe the only two people he cared about, other than Bobby.

What you expect? An alcoholic hunter, who tortured people for fun. Who would want you?

Dean tried to block the dark thought out, with a quick skull of his drink. He finished it off, appreciating the burn as it slide down his throat. Signalling for bartender for another, he looked around the bar, hoping to distract himself from his grim thoughts.

In the far corner, Dean noticed a pretty blonde.

She might not be his pretty blonde, but she'll do.