Disclaimer: Everything BtVS and AtS is owned by Joss, ME, and all them over
there. Everything Anita Blake is owned by Laurell K. Hamilton
Waiting
Sitting there, cigarette dangling from his lips, Spike thought. He couldn�t seem to help it. Her face, her eyes, they always came tumbling back into his mind � no matter how hard he tried to push her out, push her away.
It was maddening, really. During the day, right before he fell asleep he thought for sure that he could smell her. The scent always seemed to float up about him, wrapping itself around him. Spike never knew if it felt more like a blanket wrapped around him or a noose around his neck.
There were times, if you could believe it, where he would sit and wait for her. Not on purpose, mind you, but completely on impulse. He�d be headed out somewhere � then, he�d stop and go sit down again, feigning forgetfulness.
It just wasn�t like him to act like this. It pissed him off. Yeah, sure, he�d been at Drusilla�s side, but she had been his Dark Goddess, the one who gave him that fatal kiss one night in a dark alleyway on the worst night of his life. Besides, Drusilla had understood him in her own special way. Therefore, of course, he would stand by Drusilla.
But her? No, he wouldn�t be a lap dog for her. He wouldn�t wait around for her to decide who she was and what she wanted to do with her life.
So, he�d frightened her. It would have happened eventually anyways. He was a vampire after all. Besides, it�s not like he would have really taken a bite out of her.
It was all supposed to be fun and games. Something to relieve his tension after a long day with the Scoobies. She never asked him for more then he was willing to give. They�d just been playing a game of cat and mouse. It had been his turn to catch her, and for added effect, he�d slipped into game face when he caught her. Needless to say, she�d not been happy about it and proceeded to swipe at his face with her nails. Then, she�d run off into the night.
That was two days ago�
Spike had worried at first. He�d even gone so far as to look around the crypts nearest his, but he had no luck. She was gone.
�She can take care of herself,� he said to the empty room.
Sighing, he sat back down in his ratty chair, grabbed his bottle of Jack Daniels, and proceeded to get piss faced drunk.
Hours later, close to dawn, Spike found himself falling out of the chair.
�Bloody hell!� he yelled, hauling himself back up and pulling out another cigarette.
Just as Spike settled down, he heard a faint scratching outside the crypt door. His scarred eyebrow shot up to his hairline. He wasn�t sure he was hearing what he thought he heard.
When the scratching came again, Spike leapt up and went to the door. He was hesitant, not wanting her to be an illusion if he opened the door. Then, he heard it. That soft voice that was so unique to her.
Throwing open the door, Spike stared down at her, grinning madly. He heard that rumble of a purr start as soon as she saw him. He bent down and gently scooped her up and held her close to him, nuzzling against her soft fur. He�d missed her, his Miss Kitty Fantastico.
�Don�t you ever bloody do that again,� Spike said softly into her fur.
Her meow was loud and accusing.
Spike nodded and said, �Alright, alright. I�m sorry. I did miss you though. Damn quiet without you here.�
It seemed all had been forgiven. Spike set her down and she immediately rubbed herself against his leg.