O is for Offer
There were always those nights
where her mind went to war with her heart
the fight between what she knew, what she felt
and what she had to do
Sometimes the hardest decisions
are made under the moon
- r.h. Sin
The new Slayer was a wreck. Pithy little thing, though. Her punches were sloppy, and her feet danced too far away from her opponent as she fought harder to save her bloody shoes than she did her life. He snorted and inhaled another lungful of smoke as he watched her from the shadows. Her watcher had left her to her devices, telling her he 'believed in her' and she 'could do it' while he went and did what those wankers did best. Research the quickest way to ensure their Slayer died.
The tiny blonde got knocked down, and he could hear the sharp exhalation of breath before she did a neat little flip back to her feet. A sodding cheerleader, he'd bet his car on it. Her stake finally found its mark, and the fledge floated away in the wind. He clapped and slowly stepped out of the shadows of a mausoleum.
"That was...actually rather pathetic, Slayer," he said conversationally as he leaned against an angel grave marker and took another drag.
He smirked as her fist tightened around her stake, and she squared her shoulders. He tilted his head and studied her. "You got potential, I'll give you that."
"Who are you?" She looked him up and down. "Clearly not from this decade."
He snorted and felt a trill of amusement shoot through him. "No, luv. I'm a helluva lot older than I look."
She took another step toward him, her knuckles white with how hard she clutched her weapon. "Did you come here just to chat?" She faked a yawn. "'Cause I'm bored."
His head fell back as he laughed. "You put up a good front, Slayer. I almost believed you."
She sighed. "How about you drop the conversation and see how serious I really am."
He shrugged and dropped his used cigarette, grinding it beneath his boot heel before stepping toward her. "Okay."
He moved faster than she could track him, and he had the arm she carried her stake in twisted behind her back, her other one locked down firmly to her side, and one leg wrapped around both of hers before her poor little brain could catch up to him. His fangs were at her neck, and he inhaled the delectable mix of Slayer blood, fear, and determination that pumped within her veins.
She gasped as his fangs penetrated her neck, and he took a single shallow pull before licking the wound shut and releasing her. She spun toward him, her stake at the ready despite the glazed look in her eyes. "Like I said, pet," he laughed as he licked his lips. "Pathetic."
Her eyes were wide as her free hand clutched her neck. "You could have killed me. Why did you stop?"
He stepped closer. "Did you want me to continue?" He leered at her. "How long have you been the Slayer? A week? Month? Is that how you want to be known? As a tiny footnote in a long line of warriors?"
She scoffed, her eyes drowning him in delicious fire as she matched his step forward. "What do you care?"
"Oh, I care more than your watcher council does, Slayer. See, I got a reputation of my own to protect. Slayer of Slayers is what they call me." He shrugged as he looked her up and down. "I prefer my prey to be a little more...worthy of a death at my hand." He shook his head as he pulled out another fag and lit it. He waved a hand in her direction. "You could be taken out by a nameless fledge."
Her anger was rising to the surface, and it was intoxicating. "If I'm so pathetic then why are you still here?"
He drew nearer still, catching her hand when her stake arched toward his heart and holding it between their bodies. "Because I have an offer for you, luv. It's the same one I've given your kind in the past."
She struggled against him, but he could see the curiosity in her eyes. Her jaw clenched as she held her head up high and met his eyes. "What offer?"
"I'll guarantee you live long enough to become a glorious warrior. The kind of warrior your council will write an entire book about rather than the dull paragraph you're heading toward now."
She laughed and pushed away from him. "And you'll do this out of the kindness of your dead heart?"
His smirk was wicked as he shook his head. "No. I'll do this so that I earn the bragging rights when I kill you. I'll do this so that you become a challenge. And then, after you're just another corpse on the ground, I'll hunt down the newest called. And I'll offer her the same."
"And other Slayers have taken you up on this?" she asked incredulously. His widening smirk was all the answer she needed. "Why?"
"Because, luv," he said as he stepped back into the shadows. "There's always the chance you learn enough to kill me instead."
He left her surrounded by stone-marked graves and chirping crickets, her chest heaving from the encounter. And he knew that she'd take him up on his offer. They always did.
XXX
Buffy dropped face-first to the ground for the millionth time in the last two months. She hit it in frustration, her palms burning as twigs and rocks embedded in them. Spike's laughter filled the quiet cemetery, and she growled as she pushed herself back to her feet and faced him. "I hate you."
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah," he said as he waved her off. "Lasted a bit longer this time though." He tilted his head in that way of his, the one that set her alight as bright blue eyes- that had no business belonging to a soulless monster- assessed her. "You're improving." She'd deny the pride that flooded through her at the compliment.
She dusted herself off. "Not quickly enough."
Amusement sparked in his expressive eyes. "In a hurry to die, Slayer?"
She snorted. "No, just in a hurry to kill you."
His hand flew dramatically to his chest. "That hurts, Slayer. Truly."
"Not as much as this will." She flew at him, jumping up and twisting her body so her feet landed hard against his chest, and he stumbled back a few steps.
He laughed and stalked toward where she had fallen to the ground. He was on top of her, his fangs descending to her neck in seconds. "Nice try, pet," he murmured against her skin before jumping back to his feet.
Buffy was disgruntled as she picked herself back up and faced him. He was smoking again as he studied her. "I'm leaving town for a while."
She didn't think too hard about the sudden pit forming in her stomach. "For how long?"
He shrugged. "Could be a month, could be a year."
"What happened to killing me yourself?" she demanded, crossing her arms as she glared at him.
He chuckled. "I've given you much better survival tools than the wanker that's supposed to train you, Slayer. If you can't keep yourself alive without me around, then-" He looked her up and down with a sneer. "I guess you weren't worth my time after all."
"I hate you," she said again, fury flooding her.
"No, you don't," he said with a laugh as he began to walk away. "But you really should."
Then he was gone, and she was left glaring at the last place she'd seen him.
XXX
The next time Buffy would see Spike was in the same state but in a different town. Over a year had passed since she'd last seen him. Since then, she'd lost her first watcher and gotten herself locked up in a nut house by her parents.
Oh, and died.
"You're too late. Someone else killed me before you could," she said as the vamp she'd been fighting dusted. She could sense him watching her. It was odd how familiar he felt to her, even though she'd spent more time without him than with him.
"Look pretty alive to me," he said as he stepped into her line of sight. Something was wrong. She knew it the moment she met his eyes. Shuttered and colder than she'd ever seen them. His gate was off as he stalked toward her. "And guarding a Hellmouth to boot."
"The master killed me last spring," she told him, warily watching his slow progress toward her.
He snorted. "Looks like you got him back well enough, judging from the snapping of that family connection."
She looked at him in surprise. "You're related to him?"
He shrugged. "Suppose you could say that. Never did like ol' Batface, though. One of those end-the-world fanatics." He rolled his eyes and took another step toward her. "Like we don't live in said bloody world."
She shifted her weight to the balls of her heels and tensed in preparation. "You come to finish what you started?"
Something shifted in his eyes, and a spark of the lightness he used to carry with him shone through. A grin teased the corners of his lips. "Thought crossed my mind, yeah."
She rolled her eyes and brought her fists up. "Let's get this over with then. I just want a hot bath and a dreamless sleep."
His head tilted in that way of his and all levity left his gaze. "Too bad, that, Slayer."
Irritation filled her, and she took a step closer. "What's too bad, Spike? That you're no longer the big scary monster waiting for me in the shadows?" A smirk twisted her lips in a facsimile of his. She took another step until there was barely a foot of space between them and cocked her head. "It stings that you barely rank anymore, doesn't it?"
Fire flared behind his cold gaze, but he just snorted and shook his head as he stepped back. "No, Slayer. It's too bad that you're already chasing your death. Already lost that shiny zeal that's so tempting." As the shadows started to swallow him up, he looked her up and down one last time, an uninterested sneer crossing his sharp features. "Guess you're right. I was too late," he agreed with a shrug before disappearing into the night.
His words stung, and Buffy was left staring out into the black as she considered them. As she considered how he saw her. Once, he'd seen her as a clumsy girl with all the potential of a great warrior. And now?
Was she really nothing more than a disillusioned, battle-hardened Slayer? Falling in line with the rest of her kind? Ready to embrace death and leave this life of pain and fear behind?
Her eyes hardened and her fists tightened.
No.
She was more than that. She was better than that. And she'd prove it to him.
Better yet, she'd prove it to herself.
XXX
Buffy didn't know who he thought he was fooling, but it wasn't her. It had been a week since he'd left her in the cemetery, and part of her had worried he'd left town after deciding she wasn't worthy of him. She stumbled upon him by chance during her patrol, following the vampire tingles that Giles had been painstakingly trying to get her to hone. Wouldn't he just be so proud of her now?
She kicked at his big, beat-up, black combat boot and watched through narrowed eyes as his head lolled to the side, and he swept dismissive eyes over her. He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Still alive, then?"
"One of us is about to not be."
He spread his arms out, the neck of a whiskey bottle held loosely in his left hand. "Give it to us good then, eh Slayer?"
Her hand tightened around her stake. "Are you serious right now?"
His answering grin was painful to look at. "As a heart attack."
"You're pathetic." She glared down at him, uncontrolled fury rising up within her. She wasn't quite sure where the strong emotion had come from. "You bitch at me about having a death wish while you're just gonna sit here and let me stake you? God, Spike. Projecting much?"
A humorless laugh echoed through the mostly empty crypt. "There she is. Welcome back, Summers."
His eyes flitted over to her, meeting hers briefly, and her breath caught at the well of pain and sorrow that he failed to hide from her. It called to something in her. Something that had her crouching beside him, her stake nearly forgotten as she lowered it to her side. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's been on vacation, Spike."
"Careful there, luv. You're losing some of that delicious hostility."
She didn't rise to the bait as she studied him with a frown. "What happened? The love of your life die or something?"
She meant it as a joke since, as far as she knew, Spike was a solo act. But his face crumpled, and an array of emotion flitted over his face. Rage, pain, and despair so deep that her breath caught in her throat. "Oh," she breathed out. "I'm sorry." She was startled to realize she really was, but she didn't think too hard about it as was custom regarding her vampire trainer. She didn't think too hard about the sliver of jealousy that pierced her either. "That's why you hunted me down then? You want me to kill you?" It wasn't really a question.
He shrugged and turned his head away from her. "Already taught you all you need to know."
She shook her head and stood up. "I doubt that." She took a few steps away. "No way did I learn a hundred years' worth of technique in the two months you spent training me."
Spike scoffed but didn't look back at her. "The pointy end goes in the heart. Simple as, Slayer. So just get on with it and show the teacher you've become the master, yeah?"
"No." She was in the doorway now, still facing him as she took her first step over the threshold. "We'll do this again when you become a challenge."
She left before he could respond, but she heard the echo of his laugh follow her out in the night.
XXX
She had spent a month or two being entirely caught up in the intrigue of Angel when she'd first come to town. She'd used him as a canvas to transfer her confusing feelings for Spike onto. She soon tired of his cryptic act and kept their interactions strictly business shortly after kissing him and finding out he was a vampire. Spike would have been disappointed that she hadn't realized it before Angel's demon came to the fore. She had gotten angry with herself for caring what Spike would have thought.
Angel was a helpful ally. Sometimes. When he wasn't too busy trying to be enigmatic. She knew he had feelings for her and was put off by her lack of reciprocation. He walked near her as they canvased the cemeteries after he had popped up and insisted on patrolling with her. "I have news that you should know."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "A new vampire is in town. He's over a century old and has made a name for himself by hunting down Slayers." When her head swung toward him in surprise, it wasn't for the reason he thought. "His name is Spike, or William the Bloody. You should have Giles look him up."
She nodded, head spinning. "I will."
He reached out and gently grasped her upper arm. "Where Spike goes, so does Drusilla, his sire and the one creature on this earth that he'd gladly die for." Not anymore, she thought, but managed to keep her thoughts from spilling out.
"Do you know them?"
He hesitated, and she could tell that the answer was both 'yes' and much more than that. "They're part of my bloodline. We...were family once. Watch your back, Buffy. Once Spike starts something, he doesn't stop until he finishes it. And his favorite thing to do is hunt and kill Slayers."
She nodded as he started to slip away. That was another thing she disliked about him. Here he was, dropping what he thought was panic-inducing news, and he couldn't even be bothered to offer to watch her back. She could only count on herself for that. "Got it." She didn't know if he heard her as he vanished from sight.
Spike being in town wasn't news to her. But his other moniker was. She had tried looking him up in Giles' books when she'd first moved to Sunnydale, but there were too many volumes, and Giles hadn't recognized the name when she'd asked. She'd had to fight back a smile at the time, knowing that Spike would be pissed if he knew his notoriety wasn't at the forefront of every watcher's education.
It wasn't long after Angel abandoned her that she walked through the library doors and smiled at her watcher, happy to see he hadn't left yet. "Hey, Giles. Angel dropped a new name today. Some vamp that's just come to town, William the Bloody. Ever heard of him?" She watched his face pale at her casual question and bit back a smirk. Guess Spike had made his mark on the council after all.
"You're quite sure that's the name he gave?" Giles asked as he went into his office and started flipping through different leather-bound journals.
"Positive." And as Giles dove into telling her Spike's written history she found herself thinking of amused eyes and a cocky smirk. She could almost feel his body against hers as he pinned her down and told her that she could do better. Buffy thought of dark teasing and the hatred-fueled desperation she'd felt as she worked hard on improving. She remembered the night the hatred started to transform into something else.
And when Giles mentioned Spike's longtime paramour, Drusilla- Angel's childe- she remembered the grief prominently displayed in Spike's eyes when they met hers the other night. "I thought you said that demons can't love."
Giles cleared his throat and removed his glasses. He wiped them down as he slowly spoke, "That is the council's official stance, yes."
"And is it yours?" It wasn't hers. Not anymore.
"I'm rather inclined to believe that the world isn't as black and white as the council likes to make it." She appreciated his honesty. He replaced his glasses and grunted. Looking back from his book to her. "There's a notation here that he goes by Spike. Isn't that…?"
"Yes."
"Do you already know this vampire, Buffy?"
She could lie. She had avoided his questions when she'd asked him to look Spike up a year earlier. "I do." She elected to tell the truth.
"You're already acquainted with the Slayer of Slayers?"
"Yep!" She wondered if she put enough pep in her tone if he would stop looking at her like she was an alien.
"From before you were in Sunnydale?" No. He looked even more alarmed now.
"From just after I was called," she clarified.
He shook his head and practically fell into a nearby chair. "Were you aware of his reputation?" She took a chair across from him and nodded. "You could have perhaps mentioned this when you previously asked me about him."
"He wasn't around then. I wasn't too concerned about it." That part wasn't entirely true. "I didn't know he went by anything other than Spike, anyway," she added with a shrug.
"You knew he was the Slayer of Slayers." She winced. He had her there. He studied her shrewdly when she stayed silent. "And yet you both are still alive."
He didn't phrase it as a question, but she knew that he was asking. She hesitated and toyed with the hem of her shirt as she looked anywhere but at him. "He...kind of trained me. A little bit."
The silence somehow echoed.
"I'm sorry, I think I must have misheard you."
She gritted her teeth and dared a glance up at him. "It's what he does. I guess your books don't mention that. If a Slayer isn't good enough to match him, he offers to train them until they are."
Her watcher snorted, and her eyes narrowed. "And you believed this?"
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" she shot back. "He trained me back in L.A. for two months. It's thanks to that training that I beat Lothos."
"Dear god. You truly believe that."
Her eyes narrowed further. "You weren't there."
Giles hesitated, his face softening as he studied her. "Buffy...do you have, erm...feelings for this vampire?"
She shrugged. "Sure. Disgust is a feeling, right?"
"Right." He sounded as sure of her answer as she felt. "And does Spike now feel as though you're...good enough? Is that why he's found you again?"
She bit her lip and looked toward the double doors. "I didn't ask."
"So you fought and came to a draw?"
"Not exactly." She sighed and propped her chin on her fist. "He said I have a death wish now and wasn't interested in fighting me. Then I found him and…." she trailed off. And what? And decided not to kill him? Giles would just love that.
"And what?"
"We didn't fight." She stood up with a shrug and slowly began to walk toward the doors.
"Buffy."
"Do you trust me, Giles?"
He hesitated. "I trust you with many things. And I want to trust your judgment with this. But we're talking about a master vampire who has made a name for himself by killing Slayers. It would appear that the only thing that has stopped him from killing you thus far is his desire for a challenge."
Buffy released a breath. Well, that was about the long and short of it. "I'll kill him in a fair fight. It's the same courtesy that he's given me."
"And why is it not currently a fair fight? Why haven't you fought?"
She hesitated as she lingered in the doorway. "Because he just lost the woman he loved." Her eyes met his. "And you said yourself that you believe that demons can love."
His last words reached her ears as she left the library. "Perhaps choosing the honorable path is, in this case, the wrong choice."
She wished she could bring herself to believe that.
XXX
As the weeks passed and he kept to the shadows, melancholy's hold on him slowly weakened. It didn't really fade, and he was sure it never would. It was the end of an era. The startling conclusion to the promise of eternity. Spike sometimes wondered how much Drusilla had known after they'd left Los Angeles over a year earlier. Things had never settled back into a normal rhythm between them, and he'd hated the cause of it.
Of course, the reality was that he didn't actually hate the Slayer at all. Which was the issue. Having a psychic as a companion didn't allow him those secret thoughts and feelings. Those blasted pixies always selling him out. How many Slayers had he sought out and tempted with his offer of the chance to best him and extend their short lives just a little longer? None of them had been more than a blip on his radar. So why was this one so different?
He wanted to hate her, but then she went and passed up the opportunity to stake him. He had caught the surprised sympathy that flashed over her face when she'd inadvertently hit upon the truth of his sorrow. He'd managed to hate her for a few days after that, but eventually, his temper had cooled, and he'd found himself more intrigued than angry.
He'd slowly begun to pick himself back up. Set the bottle down and found himself a hobby in watching the Slayer roam the graveyards with the certainty of a predator who knew she was at the top of the food chain. She provided the distraction he needed to dig himself out of his pit of despair and begin to process the death of his dark princess.
He straightened as he caught a glimpse of honey-blonde hair, lit a cigarette, leaned against a tree, and watched her dance.
XXX
It had been weeks since she'd last seen Spike. She felt him sometimes. On the fringes of her senses as she stalked through the cemeteries. His presence was somehow comforting, reminding her of their time in Los Angeles. She'd lived every moment knowing it could be her last, but at the end, just before he'd left town, she'd actually felt sort of safe with him. Something that would have insulted him if he'd known.
His arrival tripped her senses, and she cursed herself as she hesitated for half a second and allowed the vamp she was fighting to turn the tables on her. He wasn't as good a fighter as Spike, but he wasn't a fledge either. He knew when to seize the advantage. She winced and gritted her teeth as he aimed a hard kick to her abdomen. She curled in on herself for a second too long before twisting to spring back to her feet.
A boot collided with her face, and a cry of pain was wrenched from her lips. Buffy grabbed the boot the next time it descended toward her and twisted it. The vampire started to topple over just before his foot turned to dust in her hands. As the dust cleared, she was surprised to meet the startling blue eyes of Spike.
"Well, that was rather pathetic." The echoing insult of his first words to her shouldn't have made her smile, but the familiar spark in his eyes settled something within her. It was hidden behind the sorrow, but she could see it all the same.
"Did you come here just to chat?" she asked as she rose to her feet. "'Cause I'm bored."
The beginnings of a genuine smile turned his lips up as he leaned against an angel statue, smoke curling around him as he took a drag off his cigarette. "You could use some training up, Slayer."
Her eyebrow rose. "I suppose you have an offer for me?"
His grin stretched a little wider. "As it happens, I do."
She held her hand out. "I'll take you up on your offer and look forward to the day I kill you."
As his cold fingers wrapped around her hand, she'd deny that her pulse raced just a little faster in response. "Oh, I can't wait to see you try, luv."
