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Fool Me Once
Chapter 9

Wandering about the streets of Sunnydale was not a pastime many practiced, especially during the dead of the night. Not that Spike had consciously made the choice to take an impromptu tour about the town—it just so happened that he didn't realize where his feet were carrying him when his face was still burning from the Slayer's touch.

To be honest, the last thing Spike had expected from Buffy was a peck on the cheek and a polite good-night—exactly how he managed to be brought to hope again just when he began to lose it was either a blessing or a curse. The entire conversation they had shared was full of moments that caused his heart to do strange flip-flops of the variety that he had experienced when he was living. But when he realized that Buffy was wondering some of the same things that he was… well, it was enough to make the vampire wonder whether the Slayer could be, dare he say it, feeling similarly towards him as he was to her.

And speaking of Buffy.

"Well lookie, lookie what I found," Spike said in a lazy drawl, the object of his observations halting and turning at the vampire's word. "What's a young whippersnapper such as yourself doing out at such a late hour? Do I need to drag you home to Buffy and get her to teach you a lesson?"

Riley's only reaction to Spike's words was to launch a stake towards his chest. The vampire caught it easily between his palms and let it fall to the ground, the sharp sound of the wood hitting pavement echoing through the alley. "Well, well," Spike chuckled, "that wasn't very nice, was it?"

"Stay away from her, Spike," Riley said, venom dripping from his words. "If you bother her again—"

"Well, as it is Soldier Boy, it's been her coming to me. And as much as it may sting to hear the words, the bird likes my company." He smirked. "Maybe you just aren't dark enough for—"

Riley lunged forwards and pushed Spike against the brick wall. The vampire let out a harsh laugh and started to taunt the soldier again, but the sight of a second stake being pulled from his jacked stopped his words. "I'm darker than you think, Spike," he said, then plunged the weapon into the vampire's chest.

Spike experienced a moment of extreme panic before he realized he wasn't disintegrating into dust. "Ow!" he yelled, when the shock disappeared and was replaced with pain. "That bloody well hurt!" He paused for a moment, looking down at the stake still protruding from his chest. "And why aren't I dead?"

"Wood grain plastic," Riley answered, pulling the useless weapon from the vampire's chest. "If you don't stay away, next time it'll be real."

Spike chuckled again, observing the hole in his chest as if it were merely a stain on his shirt. "Look at you, all afraid I'm hot for your honey."

"Because you are."

The vampire raised a scarred eyebrow. "Well, yeah, but I don't remember when exactly that became your business."

Riley merely scowled at the words. "I'm not stupid, Spike. I saw you talking to her—"

"Yeah, mate, that's exactly what we were doing. Talking." Rolling his eyes, Spike pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, flicking it open and illuminating the brick walls of the alley with the light of the flame. "Now, I understand you're the jealous type and all, but really, spying on her? She's most definitely not the type for that."

"I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't hurt her," Riley spat out, his eyes narrowed at Spike's shorter frame.

"Then you'd best not go flinging stakes at her, eh? Or accusations," Spike countered, the cigarette still between his lips as he spoke. "Because she's got enough on her plate without you playing Mr. Possessive and trying to keep her from seeing me."

"Just what makes you think she wants to see you, anyway?"

The vampire chuckled at Riley's words, mirroring the thoughts he had in his own mind. "It's a good question, isn't it?" Flicking the ash from his cigarette, Spike gave a shrewd smile to the soldier standing before him. "But the difference between you and me, mate, is that now I know the answer to it."

Squaring his shoulders, Riley took a threatening step closer to Spike and spoke, his voice low and deadly. "If I see you with her again, Spike—"

"I think we've covered this, Commander," he lazily interrupted, not intimidated in the least. "Now why don't you run off and play with the other puppies, eh?"

With one last scowl, Riley turned away and left, walking further down the alley. Spike stared after him a minute, uneasily—it wasn't that he was afraid of the soldier, but the direction he was headed wasn't exactly the most normal. In fact, he was going towards a particularly demon-infested area in the town—and armed only with, as it so appeared, a useless plastic stake.

Still able to see his form through the darkness of the alley, Spike felt compelled to follow the man, part of him wanting to see what he was up to but another thinking of Buffy's face upon hearing the news that her boyfriend had been viciously slaughtered by a gang of vamps after finding her in a compromising position with said demons.

It wasn't that he was being noble—on the contrary, he wanted to make sure that he could continue seeing Buffy, knowing that Riley's influence wasn't particularly strong with his Slayer. No, there were selfish motivations involved. But, hello, vampire—selfish motivations never exactly interfered with the fact that he was motivated.

So Spike followed Riley. He followed him through the darkened, deserted streets of Sunnydale and down another trash-filled alley, into the abandoned house full of his vampire brethren, and watched as the young, blood-starved female drank deeply from him as he moaned his completion.

Spike didn't want to see, but he couldn't stop himself. And the only thing on his mind when he viewed the very definition of betrayal was the sweet face of the beautiful young woman he loved, a feeling of dread beginning to penetrate his unliving body.