Previously: In an attempt to teach Spike a lesson Buffy dyed his hair pink, bleached his clothes, took photos of it all and uploaded them to her private facebook page for all the Scoobies to enjoy. Not only did she hand Spike a humiliating and financially costly defeat but the threat of sharing those same photos with the demon community has left the vampire's credibility hostage. Promising revenge Spike decides it is time to strike back with extreme prejudice!
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the franchise's characters, places, etc. I am not making a profit from this work other than the joy I take in writing it.
BIG BAD STRIKES BACK
"Puttin' on some tunes, luv," Spike spoke up suddenly and reached for his DeSoto'stape deck.
"Fine," Buffy sighed as their stakeout jumped into its second hour. "But nothing Britishy."
"Bloody Americans," Spike muttered. He ejected his Ramones tape and nodded for Buffy to open the glove box.
"So what diamond in the dump am I looking for?" Buffy asked as she unlatched the compartment in the dashboard and began sorting through the hoarded mess inside.
"Only national treasure you yanks ever put out. My drinking mate, Johnny Cash."
"When was the last time you opened this?" Buffy grimaced and turned her nose up in disgust. Regardless, she pushed forward with a furrowed brow of determination reflecting her commitment to finding the mixed tape in question—if only to close the lid back on his mobile trashcan as quickly as possible. "Smells like something died in here."
"Oh yeah," Spike smiled thoughtfully. "That'd be the dead bird Dru left behind."
Buffy's head shot around and she fixed her eyes on his face, searching for any hint of deception or prank. It had been over three weeks since the incident with the hair dye and washing machine and aside from his threatening phone call, Spike had never made any further mention of retaliation. On the contrary, Buffy found them falling into some form of an unspoken truce. Aside from not killing each other or destroying their homes with pranks, a nearly nightly ritual of patrolling cemeteries together had started up.
It wasn't anything planned or discussed between the pair. Instead it began with a chance night in the cemetery that would afterward leave both warriors facing an entirely new and uncertain relationship.
Buffy turned her head away from him and gazed outward through her rolled down window, thinking back on that night three weeks before that had spurred the most uncanny of partnerships.
The night after Spike's unexpected phone call, Buffy cleared her first three cemeteries before running into said vampire on the top of a small hill in Restfield. He was fighting a trio of vampires. It was nothing out of the ordinary; neither was her decision to stand back and watch Spike get thoroughly pummeled. From the bottom of the gentle slope, Buffy looked on in amusement at the sight of Spike being repeatedly punched in the nose, kneed in the stomach, kicked in the knee, and undergoing everything short of an atomic wedgie.
Minutes passed and still the one sided scuffle continued without Buffy even contemplating stepping in. It wasn't that she wanted to see him get dusted or maimed. Rather she preferred that Spike get what was long overdue before he flipped the tables and finished them off. Then he would walk over to her, make some snarky comment to rile her up, and they would banter for the next couple of cemeteries. Eventually he would overstep his bounds and give her the reason she was waiting for to hit him and contribute her own handiwork to tonight's growing bruise collection.
Except that wasn't happening and an unsettling feeling began to grow inside her. She had no idea how long Spike had been fighting before she'd arrived but knowing him as she did, Buffy could see that he was getting winded and the tide of his battle had turned. Tonight it looked as if her favorite broken nose had finally bitten off more than he could chew. For a moment she considered just dumping him. Leave him behind to let those other vampires dust his pretty yet annoying butt. Then as they took a moment to recuperate, she would make her ambush and easily stake all three.
So it was with some surprise that Buffy felt her legs churning and pushing her onward into the fight. What led her subconscious to this unexpected decision, she could only guess, should she be of mind to contemplate it. Given her disdain towards the peroxide-pest, smart money was leaning to unlikely. Nevertheless whatever her motivations were, Buffy went with it. Pushing herself over the hill's crest she grabbed the shoulders of the nearest vamp and threw him back down the same route she had taken up. It would take a minute before the vamp would make his way back to the fight and hopefully that would be enough to take the other two down. She may be inclined to help Spike but that didn't mean she wanted to make a night of it.
The disappearance of their ally left the other two vampires caught by surprise as they looked down the slope at his sprawling body and then back to the petite blonde girl who had sent him there. They weren't the only ones either. As soon as Buffy had come upon him, Spike had felt her presence. When she didn't immediately jump to his aid he cursed his luck but wasn't surprised. Like her, he knew full well that this was how it worked between them. Upside, even if he did dust at least she would be there to see that he went down swinging. These vampires weren't fledglings and they knew how to give as good as they got. One on one it wouldn't have proven too much a challenge for him. Two on one would admittedly be tough but manageable. Beyond that he was reaching.
For over thirty minutes it had been volley after volley of fists and fangs. True to his nature, at first Spike had fought without abandon. However once he'd realized the trap he had fallen into, the vampire reined in his recklessness and started fighting more conservatively. His eyes up for an opportune misstep or dropped guard, Spike focused his mind and paced himself. There were a few opportunities he jumped on but he never had enough time to fully convert his chances. With no end in sight and his energy reserves fading fast, Spike's thoughts shifted away from winning the struggle to focussing on getting out of it in one piece.
Blessed with only a fool's luck, the other vamps picked up on this and immediately the tempo doubled as they pushed forward in an attempt to box Spike in against the wall of a nearby mausoleum. Down to his last bag of tricks, Spike had steeled his nerves for the coming fiery brimstone when out of nowhere, one of the vamps was thrown aside to be replaced by a flurry of blonde hair and pointy sticks. Picking up on the new threat, the two vampires left standing changed it up with one still exchanging blow for blow with Spike as the other peeled off to deal with Buffy. With partners switched, the fight was on again in full.
At first she figured that the reason behind Spike's performance issue was another night of too much beer and whiskey. Not until the first punch snapped across her jaw did Buffy realize what they were up against. Years older, possibly decades older, than most of Sunnydale's resident undead and fighting with a tenacity Buffy hadn't seen since that pitched battle against Adam. It was clear that these monsters were from another league. While this would have given others pause, to Buffy this understanding was as much refreshing as it was sobering. This was what she had been waiting for all summer and she would do her best to make it last, regardless of the presence of Sunnydale's most inflated ego.
When the third vampire finally managed to rejoin his comrades, Buffy felt her back press up against something big, leathery, and smelling of memories she'd love nothing more than to forget. The only thing she hated more was how he knew her inside and out. Hopefully he would overlook her excitement of finally finding herself a good slay.
"Savin' my unlife, Slayer?" Spike panted as he continued to trade blows with the vampire squared off with him. "Knew you couldn't resist this!"
So much for him overlooking.
"Please," Buffy rolled her eyes and continued her assault against the deceptively agile but fatigued vamp before her. "Just another – oof! 'Nother day on the job. Also? The day you die, I'll throw a party!"
"Yeah?" Spike asked, running his tongue over his fangs in pleasure just as an elbow collided upside his chin. "Bloody little – think those are called funerals, luv!"
"With bright red balloons and a mariachi band?"
"Aw, Goldilocks, you do care," Spike smirked. Momentarily distracted by his nemesis' banter Spike's guard slipped and his opponent got off a quick shot to Spike's groin. Having learned from a school of hard knocks, instead of doubling over like last time, Spike took the kick in his stride and countered with a powerful uppercut to the chin, knocking his fanged-foe onto its back. He looked at Spike in surprise. Grinning wryly Spike tapped the cup beneath his jeans knowingly and nodded to Buffy behind him. "She kicks a lot harder, mate."
"Spike!" Buffy snapped, reminding him that they still very much had a fight on their hands.
"Shut up, Slayer," he grunted and with a quick flick of his wrist a stake flew out from his duster's sleeve and neatly into his hand. Seeing the danger Spike's vamp carefully got to its feet and refocused its eyes on that deadly shiv of oak in Spike's hand.
Facing off against the two other vampires, Buffy was having a much easier fight than Spike. Since they'd already been occupied with Spike for over half an hour, it didn't matter how much skill her opponents had. Against a fresh fighter of Buffy's caliber there was no hope and they knew it. Brandishing her own stake, Buffy pounced to get her first kill of the night when selfishly the vampire to her right pushed the other one flying into her, knocking her off balance. With her grip loosened, the pushee vampire slapped the stake aside leaving Buffy weaponless and wide open. Needing a moment to regroup, both vampires saw their chance and made a desperate charge that tackled her to the ground.
Surprised by the latest setback, Buffy went from thrilled to pissed and decided it was only fair to share her irritation. Before either could lean in for the kill she took one neck in each hand and slayer-strength slammed their heads together. They backpedalled and grabbed their heads in pain and Buffy took the moment to scramble to her feet and search for her missing stake. Coming up empty, she only had precious seconds before they were on her again. She focussed on Spike as he lifted his stake high, poised to finish his own opponent off. Without a second thought, she elbowed him in the ribs and caught his stake as it fell.
"Crazy bitch," Spike spat and whipped around to knock her over the head. While his overhead strike did connect, it didn't come without a nasty reminder of the chip in his head. "OW!"
"Dumbass," Buffy managed to spit out as she also winced from his hit to the back of her head. Then she winced more as her two vamps tackled her before knocking the other stake away. "Crap," she muttered and brought her forearms up to hold the two vampires at bay. "Little help?"
"Oof!" Spike yelped as his vampire delivered a hard kick that rolled him heel over head backwards and right into the two vamps pinning Buffy down. The pressure off her chest, Buffy turned her head just in time to see Spike and her two former dance partners roll off the hill.
"That'll work," Buffy grinned and jumped to her feet with her guard at the ready. Stakeless but facing only one vampire now, Spike's opponent from moment ago, she smiled devilishly and went to work.
"I'm gonna kill you!" Spike hollered back at her from the bottom of the hill. Two against one, Spike was in trouble and his enemies knew it. Spying a convenient tombstone, he reared his boot back and gave it a sharp kick – only to cry out in pain and hop around on his other foot. The other two vamps didn't know what craziness had possessed him to try and break his foot but decided to make the most of it and closed in. Gritting his teeth Spike stood his ground and aimed at the tombstone again. Lashing out with another powerful kick this time it had the desired effect and broke down the granite slab into several sizable pieces. Picking up a rock in each hand Spike sneered at the two vamps and began punching one right after the other with the rocks in his hands. The sound of breaking cheekbones and cracking ribs brought a satisfied smile to Spike's bloodied lips.
Buffy was systematicallytaking her vampire apart piece by piece. He was still putting up some fight but his fate was sealed, or would be as soon as Buffy found something to stake him with. Deciding that she would have more luck finding something pointy down the hill, she set him up with a quick one-two combination that left him staggering. A followup uppercut lifted the vampire off his feet and sent him careening at breakneck speed down the hill.
"Incoming!" she shouted to Spike and moved to follow when out of the corner of her eye there was a welcoming sight—her stake from earlier.
Well it's about time!
She snatched it up, shoved it in the waistband of her pants and rushed down the hill, eventually falling into a straight-leg slide eager to rejoin the fight.
"Oi!" Spike yelled when he saw her coming down. His tombstone-brass-knuckle variant was paying off and already had one of the vamps he had been squaring off against out cold. "You find my stake yet?"
"If you mean MY stake then yes!" Buffy shot back as she somersaulted to her feet once on leveled ground. With two out of the three vamps down and out she leisurely walked to each fallen enemy. Kneeling down beside the nearest one she drove the stake home. Moments later and her stake slammed into the other vampire's heart. Dusting off her pants she slowly pulled herself up only to, like before, not make any effort to help Spike.
"Give me the damn wood already!" Spike demanded. He might have had the other vamp on the ropes but by now Spike was just as ready to keel over from his own exhaustion. Folding her arms across her chest, Buffy's sole reaction was a broad smirk causing Spike to roll his eyes at her selective brand of helpfulness. He dropped his tombstone-knuckles, took hold of the last remaining vampire and shoved him back a full dozen feet at an angle to line up perfectly with Buffy's upraised stake. With all three finally dusted Spike collapsed to his knees, bloodied and exhausted.
"You're welcome, by the way," Buffy said, smiling sweetly at his current state of being. Hair tousled, face bruised and swollen with more bruises likely numbering in the twenty plus category, Spike was very much out of sorts from what had been an hour long battle. Of course his unlikely savior didn't get off so well either. While nowhere near as torn up, Buffy was sporting some cuts and bruises as well. "Whose tombstone was that?"
"Uh," Spike looked about at the crumbled granite and managed to find one slab still whole. A slab that also had the helpful grave site owner's name etched into it. "Huh... A bloke named Jesse Bor – something. Last name was broken off." Dropping the tombstone remains Spike pulled up his duster's sleeve, revealing a busted quick-draw holster that had ejected its stake into his hand. "Bollocks," he muttered.
"Huh," Buffy remarked. "Where did you pick that up?"
"Pilfered it from the Initiative's armory before we toddled off topside," Spike answered. "Didn't bother trying it out until tonight."
"Of course," Buffy replied and studied her nemesis from head to toe. "Ever the opportunist."
"Well of course, luv," Spike chuckled and unstrapped it from his forearm. Stuffing it inside his inside duster pocket he resolved to tinker with it later on. Recalling the fight, he shot Buffy an angry scowl. "What the 'ell was that anyway?"
Buffy grinned wickedly knowing full well he was referring to when she grabbed his stake.
"Well... Well what you just said! Seizing an opportunity, moron."
"Fair 'enuf," Spike shrugged and a few seconds later burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"Hey! Houston calling Spikey, you do realize if I hadn't wandered in, you'd be dust?" Buffy asked, raising a brow expectantly. Spike paused in his giggles to meet her semi-incredulous gaze. He considered her words, shrugged, and fell into another bout of reckless laughter.
Then it happened.
Maybe it was the effective high from the fight or the fact that when they fought side by side neither could help taking a shot at the other, but Spike's giggles became infectious and soon Buffy was laughing right alongside him.
"Bloody hell," Spike said once his laughter finally subsided. Using the palms of his hands he pushed himself off the ground and shook his head at the sudden rush of inertia. Regaining control, he shot her a dirty look and gave her the two-fingered salute. Buffy responded in kind and flashed him the finger before both turned to go their separate ways.
"I still hate you!" Buffy called back before they were out of earshot.
"Unlikely" Spike called back. "No chance you hate me as much as I hate you!"
"Really?" Buffy yelled and turned around to see his billowing black duster fading away. "Well bring it on, Fetus! Summer is far from over!"
The telltale sound of Spike lighting up brought Buffy's thoughts back to the present. Frowning in disgust she waved her hand to clear the secondhand smoke that was wafting up from the lit cigarette dangling between his lips.
"At least roll down your window," Buffy insisted as she resumed her search through Spike's glove box for his Johnny Cash tape. "Some of us do have lungs to worry about."
"Hm," Spike grunted nonchalantly but did roll down the window as she requested. Taking a deep drag he blew smoke rings out of his mouth and into the cool desert night. With both windows open, a gusty chill blew over her but despite the day's temperature, Buffy had come prepared with a warm fall jacket. "Does make you wonder," he continued. "This chip keeps me from hurting anythin' living right? Interestin' that doesn't extend to me smokin' my fag and polluting your bodily airbags."
"Everything has its limits," Buffy shrugged and at last found the supposed "national treasure" Spike had asked her to find. She shoved it into the empty tape deck and it started up automatically, and to her surprise she didn't find the music all that bad, not that she would tell him that.
"Well, pet?" Spike said, waiting for her critique.
"Still sucks," she huffed.
"It's vintage, Slayer," he chuckled as the words of Cash's hit Hurt filled the car. "Give it time and you'll turn into a believer. Certainly better than that pop shite you rhyme to on patrol."
"Up yours, Spike."
"Bitch," Spike retorted. "How reliable is this intel anyway?"
"I leaned on Willy pretty hard," Buffy informed him as they continued with the stakeout. Parked behind a cluster of dead trees and baked rocks, they kept watch over an abandoned farm house down the rural desert road. Over and hour from Sunnydale and miles away from the highway, they had been waiting for over two hours already. "What about you?"
"Poker the other night hinted at something," Spike offered and shrugged. "Summer on the hellmouth. Slummin' to outsourcing just to stir up a good brawl."
"Whatever," Buffy sighed. "I would like to get back soon, though."
"And why's that?"
"Rented Sixth Sense a couple nights ago. I haven't watched it yet and it's due back tomorrow. Xander says it's some kind of exciting plot twister," Buffy explained and then looked at her partner in violence. "Have you seen it?"
"As a rule if Harris says something is 'exciting' I yawn and clock out."
"Oh of course," Buffy rolled her eyes at unsurprising Spike's attitude of her close friend.
"What? Roomed with the prat didn't I?" Spike reminded her.
"Whatever – oh hey! This one sounds catchy," Buffy commented when the Cash song ended and the next began.
"Yeah," Spike nodded as his head bobbed along to the tune. "Hendrix fan then. All along the bleedin' watch tower."
"Catchy, I said. Doesn't mean it isn't old."
"Vintage," Spike repeated and gave her words some thought. "You like beer?
"What?" Buffy said, confused at the turn of conversation. "What does that-?"
"I mean when you first started drinkin'," Spike clarified.
"Alcohol and Buffy are non-mixy."
"Oh really? Funny cause I've seen you mix it up more than once."
"I don't get drunk though. Unlike some blonde pains in the ass," she snorted.
"Takes one to know one my fellow arse-pain," Spike fired back. "My point was, for some it's an acquired taste."
Buffy knew that Spike had made a fair point but refused to say anything further on the subject. Even so, she did find her foot tapping along to the beat of this Hendrix person Spike had complimented. Time continued to pass and as song after song played, still there was no sign of their quarry.
"Should just come back tomorrow," Buffy as the waiting finally got the better of her. "The nest will be asleep by then. All we would have to do is sneak in and do them in their sleep."
"Splendid thought. You and the big pile of dust sittin' next to you," Spike said, rolling his eyes at the idea of him driving to the middle of a desert with no cover.
"Daylight hasn't stopped you before."
"But never without an emergency manhole in sight," Spike replied. " Unlike some foreheads I might mention, I'm not brooding to the point of offin' myself."
"Excuse me?" Buffy snarled.
"Talkin' about your ex," Spike said, speaking very slowly for her benefit. "Señor broods with gel."
"No, I mean how did you know about that?"
"Huh? What are you on about?"
"So you didn't know," Buffy realized.
"You tellin' me the grand poof actually tried to go poof?" Spike snickered. "And I missed it? Well miracles can happen. First time in an age that tosser did something intelligent."
Buffy decided to let a stiff punch to Spike's well defined jaw sum up her feelings regarding that particular sentiment.
"He was being controlled," she seethed, face reddening with fury at Spike's insolence to her lost love.
"Oh really?"Spike scoffed and tenderly massaged the impression her fist had left on his face. "Then why is it I think you're not tellin' the whole story. You forgetting that I've known that cold blooded bastard longer than you've been alive, Slayer? Souled or unsouled, once that piece of shit has his mind set on something, only way to stop him is to snuff him out."
"I've sent him to hell," Buffy said, her tone darkly as her eyes narrowed at him sharply. "And truce or no truce I promise to do the same to you if you don't drop this right now."
"This truce ends as soon as my chip is out," Spike said, his tone of voice also promising retribution. "Preach and threaten all you want, Buffy. No matter what occurs before our dance ends in either my dust or your cold dead body."
"Looking forward to it, William," Buffy glared.
Two stubborn soldiers born on opposite sides of the coin found themselves locked in a fierce stare-off with neither willing to give an inch. The catalyst for what brought them to this junction could be blamed on the person she loved and that Spike would forever loathe, but deep down they both knew that Angel had nothing to do with it. Their story was one of unadulterated hatred but also a buried denial of something else that neither would dare to put a label on. They wanted it. They wanted to end this dance and battle it out there and now under that clear desert sky, to a song only they could hear.
"I'd rather be fightin' you anyway."
"Mutual."
It was only the flicker of approaching headlights and the sound of tires coming to a stop that reminded Buffy and Spike that once again their dance would have to be postponed. Breaking their stare they turned their heads to see not one car but three circle around Spike's DeSoto and cut off any chance of escape. The tape ended and the music stopped.
"Rain check?"
"You know it, how many?"
"Dozen vamps and three humans," Spike answered as the car doors opened and their lights turned off. Glowing amber eyes shone through the darkness confirming for Buffy the nature of her enemy. The nature of their enemy. The odds were stacked but in that moment she didn't care how bad it was. Filled with unspent anger she needed this.
"Looks like our intelligence was off," Buffy whispered. "Only three cars. Missing one."
"Yeah," Spike smiled and flicked his cigarette out his window and reached into the backseat for the weapons they had packed. "We should inquire about that. Show 'em that we care about their friends. 'Tis the neighborly thing to do."
"Slayer!" a loud voice boomed out and one pair of the amber eyes moved forward. "Come out! We know you're in there. Can feel it!"
"Showtime, Goldilocks."
Spike casually lit another cigarette and then stepped out into the cool desert night with Buffy following from her side of the car. Immediately, Spike shifted into game face to see better, while Buffy peered out into the darkness.
She would have to rely on starlight, of which thankfully there was enough that she could put up some sort of a fight. Nevertheless, she was at a disadvantage, not that they didn't account for this going in. She would just have to hope that her gamble paid off. In the meantime her slayer sense was flying off the scale as she felt the presence of vampires in all directions. She spared a glance at Spike who was now leaning against the car's hood, looking not the least bit bothered, and just puffing away on his cigarette. Buffy found it oddly comforting that even with all of these other vampire signatures, she knew him well enough to detect him anywhere.
"We don't want you," the leader said with a disparaging look to Spike. "Take off now and leave the slayer behind. One time offer."
"Interestin' proposal," Spike mused and pretended that he was seriously giving it some thought. Buffy couldn't help it, she smiled. The fact they were at each others throats only minutes before had her opening the 'forget-about-it-for-now' deposit box and locking it inside.
"Really?" the group's leader snorted. "This should be good."
"You make like the dust you'll soon be and breeze away. Leave the entrées and take off. You don't come back anywhere near the hellmouth and maybe I can convince my girl here to let things slide."
"You really think you can take us on?" he sneered as the twelve vampires, surrounding them from every direction, began to close in side by side. If they failed here the three human victims, lying bound and gagged in the back of the cars, were as good as dead.
"No," Buffy interjected and didn't miss the irony behind that particular phrase. The last time it was directed towards her she and Spike defied the odds and came out on top. Since then they had only grown stronger. "We were expecting more."
"They ran into some trouble in LA," the head vamp revealed bitterly. "Don't worry though. We'll being take care of those hunters soon enough. Not that you'll be alive to warn them."
"Warn them?" Spike chuckled and shared a look with Buffy who finished off his taunt.
"Warn them about what?"
Spike took one last drag and tossed his burning cigarette into the pool of gasoline next to his feet. Immediately the pool ignited and a thin river of fire blazed out from the pool and spread down a trail of gasoline that ran its course straight into the ring of advancing vampires. Realizing the trap, the leader turned to warn the others but it was too late, the fire reached the oiled hay spread out in all directions which erupted into a bright fiery inferno.
Their ranks fell apart as several were caught in the initial blast while others leaped out of the way and landed on either side of the trap into which Buffy and Spike had baited them. They had begun the encounter with twelve and now there were eight. Disarrayed with survivors caught inside the ring and out, before the vampires could even begin to counterattack, a sword decapitated one and a crossbow bolt pierced another.
As Spike reloaded his crossbow, hanging well back from the dangerous flames, Buffy pressed on with her assault, facing off against the two remaining vamps on their side of the burning ring. With six down and six left, Spike jumped to the roof of his car and took aim at the four vampires on the outside who were stuck trying to cross the line of fire, only to be pushed back by the intense heat and deadly flames.
A second crossbow bolt took one out and his third dusted another as Spike alternated between his and Buffy's crossbows. Realizing the desperation of the situation, the two remaining vampires on the outside made a dash to the nearest car, only to cry out in pain as Spike lobbed three large bottles of holy water in their direction which broke open, spraying their contents on all sides. As they boiled in pain, Spike reloaded both crossbows and, holding them akimbo, pulled both triggers simultaneously. All vampires on the outside dusted, he turned his attention to Buffy. He saw that she had decapitated her second vampire and now was facing off with the last remaining – the overly confident leader.
Sword drawn, Buffy advanced, pushing him back towards the wall of fire behind him and leaving him with nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape. The sound of Spike's cruel mocking laughter reached the leader's ears but he didn't pay the other vampire any mind. With flames licking at him from every direction, the dark outline of Buffy and her dusted blade was all he could see. He drew back his fangs and changed back into his human guise, hoping that that might have a greater effect.
His long pleading speech to her fell on deaf ears yet Buffy lowered her sword all the same, much to Spike's surprise. The look of relief was evident on the leader's face and babbled his thanks. Buffy, a disarming smile on her face, held up her hand to stop his rambling.
"You should have taken Spike's offer," she whispered, betraying her true intentions. "I have enough dead friends."
Buffy's foot shot forward into a powerful thrust kick that connected solidly with the vampire's chest. He fell backwards into the wall of fire and his dying screams filled the night sky and in moments another demon was turned to ash and sent straight to hell.
Buffy turned back to Spike and smiled.
"Fire pretty."
"Uh listen, Slayer," Spike began after he placed his borrowed crossbow into Buffy's weapon chest.
Buffy turned her head and looked at Spike expectantly. Between extinguishing the fire and driving the three humans to the hospital, it had been two hours since their midnight barbecue in the desert and only now were they finally back inside Buffy's house on Revello Drive – the staging point for the night's mission. Until then, Spike had remained curiously silent and Buffy was fairly certain as to why. Exhilarating as the night's battle had been, what had happened between them in the car was much more memorable.
"It's late," Buffy said, not wanting to get into another argument.
"No, I know," he said and rubbed the back of his head.
"Spike; it's late," she repeated. "I'm tired, and we smell like chimneys. So whatever it is?"
"Back before when I-? Look I'm not going to say sorry because we both know that's not true and I'm not goin' to try and sugarcoat anything because we both know how this is all going to end."
"Spike-"
"I-I-I'm wearing a bloody cup!" Spike stammered out and at Buffy's incredulous look he brushed his hand through his curls and tried again. "I'm wearing a cup because that shot below the belt? It really sucked and I know that you and I are better than that."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that I respect you."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Spike replied, clearly uncomfortable.
"Thanks?" Buffy said, uncertain as to what he was getting at.
"And tonight you were really..."
"Scary?" Buffy tried.
"No, not that!" Spike sputtered. "Big Bad and all," he gestured. "We don't get scared."
"Of course," Buffy said doubtfully and raised an eyebrow to further emphasis her skepticism.
"I just... Bloody 'ell! I respect you, 'aight?"
"Okay," she replied slowly. "That's good to know, I think."
"Right," Spike nodded and puffed up his chest in an attempt to brush off his strained confession. Knowing that at any other time she would send him packing, Buffy folded her arms and tapped her foot patiently to hear him out on anything else he needed to say. Spike looked as though he was trying to say something else but he held his hands up in exasperation, gave her a small wave, and strutted back out of the front door and into the night. Following after him, Buffy looked on from her door until he got into his car and drove off.
"That vampire," she muttered and closed the front door. As if the night hadn't been thrilling enough, he had to top it all off with whatever that thing was. Her throat dry from the night's activities, Buffy passed through the open doors on her way to get a glass of water from the kitchen when she spied the rental tape out of the corner of her eye. She turned her gaze on the unwatched movie that was due back the next day and and sighed, knowing now that she would just have to rent it again another time.
And as much as I hate to admit it Spike does have a point. Xander has a tendency to over embellish on some movies. Not that I mind or anything. It's actually kind of cute and wait what?
Buffy's eyes shot back at the video lying innocently at the center of her coffee table.
He wouldn't!
"I just... Bloody 'ell! I respect you, 'aight?"
He would!
"Well not this time my platinum haired fetus," Buffy smirked and with her own little strut made her way into the living room. She picked up the video tape and studied it for a moment. She looked at the VHS tape, inside and out, to make sure that it wasn't booby-trapped in some way. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the outside, which only meant that whatever Spike had done must have been to the tape itself.
He is so buying the rental store another copy of this!
Popping the tape into her VCR, Buffy stood back and confidently pressed play on the remote. Fast forwarding through the previews she realized that whatever Spike had planned would happen later on in the tape. Still she couldn't return the movie to the rental store without knowing exactly what.
I'm so kicking your ass next time I see you.
The previews ended and the introduction credits were starting up when all of a sudden the tape cut out and the smirking grin of Spike's face popped up onto the screen.
Knew it!
"Hey there, Slayer," Spike's cocky London North accent broke through as the screen was shaky in his low budget free hand video recording. "Saw that you picked up Sixth Sense and I gotta tell yah, luv. You have good taste."
Yup. Knew it.
"A lovely plot. Lots of brilliant twists and turns especially with Bruce Willis. His main character? He just so happens to be-"
"Better luck next time," Buffy laughed and fast forwarded it past Spike's obvious attempt to spoil the movie for her. After a few seconds of fast forwarding Buffy deemed it likely that his futile attempts at ruining the movie for her had passed and hit play to hear the rest of his message.
"But I don't want to go on and on!"
Well that's a first.
"The movie is still not half bad and even with that spoiler you should check it out. Enjoy, Slayer. See you in the graveyard."
Thank you, Spike. I think I'll do that.
Tired as she was, now there was no way Buffy would let the chance of upping him slip by. She had caught on early enough to thwart his revenge prank and now could watch the movie as it should be. Knowing that next time she ran into him, she was going to rub it all in his face only made it that more enjoyable. Buffy returned to the kitchen to fetch her glass of water thencame back and settled into the couch with remote in hand.
This is so going to be worth it. Xander will get a kick out of it too.
Sipping her water, Buffy smiled as she got more and more into the plot. Tonight was going swimmingly. Great fight. A pseudo–apology from Spike! A great movie which Xander had encouraged her to watch and she'd even sidestepped that lame attempt at sabotaging it for her! Buffy let out a particularly chilling evil laugh.
This can't get any – better? What the...?
"Harder! Harder! Oh MISTER SPIKE!"
"No..."
"Shut up, slut. You bloody take it."
"OH MY GOD!" Buffy cried as she watched Spike's naked backside thrust in and out of a very flushed and very naked blonde woman bent over a kitchen table. Buffy's jaw droppedand she sat on her couch, paralyzed and shocked beyond reason as minutes passed with her eyes transfixed at what her mortal enemy was doing on her mother's television screen.
And she saw everything. The camera angled from front to back revealing that Spike had a body that most hetero women would just love to run their hands over. She had seen Spike shirtless before although of course she'd never taken time out to actually appreciate it, much less appreciate the way his muscles flexed and moved in the most erotic way imaginable!
The pair shifted into an entirely new position and...
"How is that even possible?!" Buffy gasped.
"You want it, baby?"
"Yeaaa... So bad!"
"Who am I?"
"Bad... You're the Big Bad!"
Suddenly Spike pulled away and the actress jumped off the table. The camera changed angles again with the actress getting on her knees and-
"OH MY GOD!"
Buffy tilted her entire head to the right in an inverted "L" shape when the truth hit home that Spike had absolutely nothing to overcompensate for. Suddenly Buffy realized exactly why the actress was kneeling in front of him and hurriedly scrambled for the remote to turn everything off. Already she had seen far too much.
Yes, she knew exactly how he felt under that red button down shirt from Willow's spell last year but still!
"Bleach," Buffy murmured, shell-shocked as she took the tape out of the VCR. "Brain-bleach!" she whimpered and carried the tape to the garage where she threw it into the nearest trash can. "Brain-bleach not invented yet," she realized and hurried out of the garage and back into the house. "Not invented and OH MY GOD!"
How was that thing with the chair and the ceiling light even possible?
"Shower!" Buffy exclaimed and climbed the stairs. Course charted, her thought process was flying at warp speed. Pushing her way past the bathroom door she shut it behind her and couldn't shed her clothes fast enough. Alternating between shock at what she had witnessed and deciding to finally get her hands on an actual forgetting spell, she turned the shower temperature all the way to cold before plunging in.
"I'm going to kill him," Buffy's shivered with lips and teeth chattering under the freezing stream. "From dust to dust, his unlife is officially over!"
The next night on her patrol, Buffy had only one goal:
Wipe that smug look off Spike's face.
As angry as she was, Buffy knew she wouldn't dust him. She'd thought about it. She'd dreamed about it. She'd whittled a new stake and carved his name onto it. Despite all of that, and her urge to stick something pointy inside him to see how he liked it, she knew, deep down, that it wouldn't be right. She would regret it afterward.
And yeah, all in all, he'd pulled it off. He'd got her good. Really good. That didn't mean she wasn't going to threaten him that if he told anyone he would meet a dusty end. Of course, that threat would only happen after a very memorable beating, up and down all over Restfield – as soon as he got there, at least. It was still very early and despite her careful watch, Spike had yet to make an appearance. She knew better than to sit atop his crypt but she did find a spot, far enough away to not be detected by his disgusting vampire nose, yet ready to strike when he did show up. When that happened, he was hers.
An hour passed and she never shirked her vigil for a moment. Another hour passed and still she waited. However when it was getting on for three hours,she had to call it. Not only were her legs cramped but she had to finish the rest of her rounds. Determined to set a record time for her patrol, Buffy sprinted through the remaining cemeteries, intent on returning to Restfield as soon as they were cleared. An hour and a half later, she was back in that same spot, sweating from her run. For all her efforts Buffy ran into no other would-be vamps and demons.
Unsure if he had snuck in when she was occupied elsewhere, Buffy did a quick perimeter scout around Spike's crypt. There weren't any tinglies but that didn't mean that "bloody" vampire hadn't found a way to mask his presence. It wouldn't be the first time he'd resorted to a spell. With that thought in mind, she charged into his crypt with stakes in both hands. No joy; it was as her senses had told her; nothing. Zero signs. Screaming in anger, she took out the stake carved with "SPIKE" and left it in his chair to find. He would get the message.
Storming out, she reached for her walkman and fiddled with the ear buds, plugging them in both ears before pressing play on the walkman to hear her latest mixed tape. Remembering what Giles had taught her, she started to slow her breathing and count to ten.
One-Two-Three-
"YOU'RE THE BIG BAD!"
Buffy's eyes bulged out of her sockets as her ears were suddenly filled with sounds of Spike having sex. Worse, the audio clip he had doctored into her playlist was clearly from the same porno. Every single visualization from the night before came rushing back into her mind's eye.
Another scream rang out across the cemetery.
"He's dead," Buffy muttered as she stomped her way back into her house. "He is dead!"
She couldn't take it anymore. She really couldn't. She needed to vent. She needed to rant. Hopefully Willow was on so she could-
"What the fuck?"
Polaroid photos were littered across her room.
The floor.
Her dresser.
Stuck into the edges of her mirror.
Her desk, with her computer.
And of course, her bed.
Buffy's face turned red and a pulsing vein she didn't know she had began to throb angrily away.
Snatching the nearest photo, she saw that it was a picture of Spike standing shirtless and pantless in her closet in only a black thong – HER THONG – and Angel's old coat draped across his shoulders. He stood, hands on his hips, chest puffed proudly, and head raised heroically in a very superhero-esque impression. Buffy wondered if she could ever look at that coat the same way.
Punch his nose...
She picked up one of the pictures on her dresser which showed Spike still shirtless and still in the same black thong, which did nothing to hide his "package" bursting at the seams. Only this time instead of Angel's coat, he was trying on her bras.
Beat him with a baseball bat...
Snatching one from her mirror she saw a photo of him putting on her favorite shade of lipstick. Worse, when she looked at the mirror, he'd left her a kiss on the glass and written out a message in that same lipstick:
"I respect you ;-)"
It was all she could do to keep from smashing the mirror with her fist. The lipstick though, didn't fare as well when she crunched it to pieces inside her powerful fist.
Drown him in holy water...
Not knowing how much more she could take before exploding, Buffy turned her attention to her bed. She ignored all of the pictures save for the one on her pillow and what she saw was finally the last straw.
Nail you to your crypt and let the sun rise...
His duster, those same boxer shorts, and Mister Gordo. With her lipstick smeared all over his lips and duster opened out wide revealing all of his muscular chest and ripped abs, Spike was lying back on her bed against the headrest and holding her prized stuffed animal in his right hand as his left petted it lovingly.
Open Acathla and send you to hell...
She looked fearfully around the room for anything else particularly horrifying and her eyes fell on her computer monitor and what she saw made her see red.
The comments on her Smile Book page were already pouring in.
To Be Continued...
Appreciation: A big special thank you goes out to the story's beta, All4Spike. A talented writer in her own right please a big welcome for her and much appreciation for her assistance.
-S