| "Another thing?" Spike says hesitantly. The smiles dissolves. "Whaaa-at?" Buffy asks. "At least forty of the forty-eight people in this place are vampires." Buffy resumes banging her head against the table. "God! Damn! It!" She stands up and gets her red purse onto the table, taking out two stakes. "Spike," she says plaintively, "take this. Don't get killed. Please." He breaks into a smile. "Always happy to be good," he leaps up. She copies him. "Let's go," Buffy says, smiling. " Hey, hey hey!" she calls out. "How's everybody enjoying their evening?" There are a few grunts. "So, hey," she laughs, " I'm the Slayer. For those of you who know what that means...well, you know the drill! For those of you who don't...please take the oppurtunity to run now!" A few people look terrified but most of the clientel instantly change. "That's right," Buffy says trillingly, "now, come on! Don't be shy! And can you people run or is there something wrong with your legs!" At least seven people run. "Great! Super happy fun time!" Buffy lunges at the nearest male and dusts him. "How're you doing, Spike?" "Good! Bein' good! Doin' good!" Buffy soon realizes that all of the staff have vamped as well. She doesn't care. She just dusts them all. They're all amateurs and nothing against a Slayer who is so majorly pissed off. Within twenty minutes the place is completely clear and, after a Spike and Slayer inspection, the place is deemed completely empty. "I can't believe I almost ate people bolognase," Buffy says slowly and gags. "Hmm-uhmm," Spike nods, looking at the ceiling. "What are you thinking?" He smiles at her sheepishly. "Riight. We never got dinner." "Nooo." "We never got to pay a gigantic bill?" "No," Spike almost sings. Buffy smiles warmly. "You never got your prize." He looks away, almost ashamed. "Come on," Buffy takes Spike's hand, "how does fast food sound to you?" "Sounds better than human meat," Spike shudders, "that would be baaad." "Oh, my God," Buffy says suddenly. "I don't know if Carmel was a vamp or not. I was just killing them blindly. How do I know?" "She's human. And alive," Spike promises. "How do you know?" "You really think I wouldn't know?" he asks. "Right. Creepy but right," Buffy squeezes his hand, "at least I escaped the huge bill." "Fast food?" Spike asks. "Mm," Buffy nods, unexpectedly distant. "You want to skip it?" Spike asks sadly, trying to pull his hand away from hers. "No, I just want to eat at home tonight," Buffy says, "I'm sick of trying to be normal for tonight. I have enough of that during the day. Tonight I want to just be Buffy." "Okay, Just Buffy," Spike says, "I'll see you soon, hopefully." "What are you talking about?" Buffy frowns. "You want to go home to eat..." "Yeah. I still want to eat dinner with you, though," Buffy says. "So you can come with. No big deal." "Come with you?" Spike looks slightly afraid. No, make that petrified. "To your house? No. No." "Yes, yes," Buffy insists, gripping his hand tighter, "you're coming. No buts. No rambling explanations of why you can't. I'm Just Buffy and what Just Buffy says goes. Got that, Mister?" He wavers. "C-can't go-" "You're coming," she says with a soft resolve voice. "You're with me." They walk out of the vamp restaurant and fall into exact step, not talking until they reach Buffy's house. Then Spike starts this weird noise deep in his throat. All high and whimpery and absolutely terrified. "Can't go in," he whimpers, looking at Buffy for conformation. "Stay out here, please. Please." "Oh-kay," Buffy says, not pressuring him, "just wait here and I'll bring a blanket to sit on and some food." Spike perks up. "Like a picnic?" "Yeah, like a picnic." "Dru used to like to have them. Under the stars," he smiles at the memory and then pain crosses over his face, "of course, she wanted them in the sun. But...obviously...not an option. I want to be in the sun, too. With the sun. Make me warm. Make me whole." "I think it's more likely to make you burn," Buffy says uncertainly. "That's okay too." "Wait here. Don't do anything...crazy," Buffy runs into the house, quickly sticking some blood into the microwave while she throws up into the sink. When does it stop hurting? When does she stop feeling guilty for his pain? When will she stop wanting to make him okay again? Fix him? Love him like he deserves? When will she stop wanting what she can never have? Or hoping to achieve what she can never do? After about fifteen minutes of crying, Buffy manages to go back out to face the music. Or, rather, face Spike. If it was music, she'd sooo be able to deal. Even evil, mind-bending music. Spike's rocking on his heels, eyes closed. "Hey," Buffy says. "Don't," he says gently as she reaches out to touch him. "I'm here. Don't need the touch." "Okay," Buffy recoils and lays out the blanket. "Sit down, then. I've got blood and...yeah, blood. Blood and some pasta salad and ice cream." "Ice cream?" Spike looks at her and sits opposite her. "After you've had the blood," Buffy insists. "You're too thin. It's really not attractive." Spike smiles sadly and cocks his head. "Just a costume, Buffy, the whole skin is just a cover for the monster. What does it matter?" "Well, I have to look at you every day," Buffy says, "so you have to look at least decent for me." "Oh," Spike obediently takes the blood from her and drinks it. She watches, transfixed. When he's done with the first cup, he looks at her, licking his lips. "It tastes of tears," he tells her. "Don't watch. It's disgusting. I'm disgusting." "Tears," Buffy says and instantly wipes her face with the back of her hand. "Tears..." her eyes fill up and she looks away. "Buffy?" Spike leans over. "B-Buffy?" "Uhm...I...it's..." Buffy gives up trying and takes a deep breath, smiling a wide smile when she finally faces Spike. "It's nothing. I'm fine. Just have some more blood. I got over being grossed out by it a long time ago. It's perfectly normal...for...a vampire." Spike doesn't press her for details of why she was crying. He just drinks two more cups of blood and she's watching as she pretends to eat the pasta salad. They watch eachother for a long time. Watch eachother being unhappy on the inside. "Ice cream?" Spike asks suddenly, wanting to break the tension. "Something fudgey, minty, chocolatey," Buffy says, passing him the tub with no sign that she cares. "Eat yourself stupid." She passes him a spoon. Spike looks. "Want some first?" She shakes her head. "You hate me, right?" Spike looks at her. "What?" "Nothing." "N-Buffy!" he practically yells. "I don't," he says, voice much calmer, "never ever ever ever. I love you. Love you forever." Buffy doesn't speak. She doesn't speak for several minutes and when she does the voice that comes out is resigned. "I've been through this before, we've been here before. And this is where I call you an evil soulless thing. But I can't. So I'm not talking about it." "Still an evil thing. Not soulless," Spike laughs bitterly. "No," Buffy says, "it's different this time. I'm different. You're different. I feel different. And I'm having massive trouble dealing." She shrugs. "But, hey, I'll adjust to the new rules." "There's always rules," Spike chimes in, looking sad, "always a script to follow. Only you don't follow, do you? You...in the script it's all for the kill, all evil and good and black and white. And through your eyes it's a world of grey." Buffy pauses, a small frown starting up around her eyes and mouth. "The ice cream's melting," she finally says. "And I have...okay, not work tomorrow. Saturday. Yay!" She flicks something invisible off her dress. "Yay," she says with even less feeling, if that's even possible. "All grey today, isn't it, Slayer?" Spike asks. Buffy looks at him, face open for a moment. "Yes. Yes, it completely and scarily is," she sighs, "but what else has it ever been? It started with Angel." That name still makes Spike growl. Buffy smiles. "Started with him, all dark and mysterious and broody. Even now I'd fall for that. Well, I never unfell... Okay, Buffy, shut up right now," she laughs. "We're not even really friends anymore," she adds, ignoring herself, "and I think he makes people pay for his life-saving services," she says. "Why don't you do that?" "Because this is my...destiny. God, I hate that word so much! It's true, though. I'd still slay even if there was nobody to save. I'd still be the Slayer, even if everything evil was dead." Spike still hovers. "And Angel's different because...?" Buffy seems suddenly really irritated. "Shut up, Spike," she says sharply and sits back, kicking off her shoes and letting her toes play around in the damp grass. "Mmm," she closes her eyes, throwing her hair back, "nice." Spike watches Buffy looking beautiful. It's not exactly a hardship. But it kind of is. Because every minute he watches her being beautiful and forgiving and smiley, he thinks of her looking small and frail and hurt and betrayed. By him. All because of him. Bruised and crying and bitter. "You're watching me," Buffy says after a while. "N-yes. Sorry," Spike averts his gaze. "No, it's okay," Buffy insists, "just a little creepy to begin with. But I'm used to creepy. Really." "You're thinking about...about him," Spike whispers. Buffy's eyes snap open. "What did you say? Who?" "Angel." "Damnit, Spike! I loved Angel," Buffy says, voice so sharp it could slice Spike's tongue right out of his mouth. That's what it feels like. He feels pain twisting inside him. He'll never get his prize now. Why does he always have so speak? Speak when spoken to. Not that hard to remember. Well, you wouldn't think it was. "He was my first-" Buffy cuts herself off mid-rant. "-Love. He was my first...love," she continues unsteadily. Spike looks down at his feet. "Don't worry. Won't speak again. Simple rules to follow, right, Buffy? Right?" Spike looks up, past Buffy. "I'm remembering, see? Not so stupid after all!" Buffy looks behind her. There's no extra slimy monster readying itself for attack. She's not in mortal danger. Who the hell is Spike talking to? "Spike?" she asks nervously. Then, more forcefully, "Hello in there?" "You're not good," he says, still not focusing on Buffy, "no, don't. She hates me as it is. More weakness to show." His eyes suddenly focus on Buffy and there's a terror in those eyes. "He's going to show you. Please...please don't hate me." "I won't," Buffy reaches out and grips his hands in hers, "what's he going to show me, Spike? Tell me." "Weakness," Spike mutters, "he's going to-" A rain drop hits Spike in the eye and thunder crashes, lightening illuminating the sky for a few moments. Spike screams hysterically. "Oh my God," Buffy holds his hands harder to hold him still, "Spike, what's wrong?" "It's in the sky," he chants, "everybody's mad at me, can't you see? Even him. Mad at me. I don't want you to see-" "Spike!" Buffy tries to hold him still but in one terrifying moment his face changes, eyes glinting yellow. He lunges down at Buffy and she yells out in shock. The impact is too much and she goes sprawling, still grasping Spike's hands stupidly, like he can save her. But he's the one hurting her. He bores down and bites...her arm. She yelps and finally gets it, letting go as blood begins to pool. "Spike!" she yells but he's running away, running away again. "Oh, crap!" Buffy sits up, grass stains all over her dress. Oh, and blood. Blood all over her dress from her arm. His teeth nearly went all the way through. She can't let anybody see this. Especially not...anyone! Buffy bangs her foot on the ground petulantly, like a little kid. When did being a Slayer get so complicated? Xander has actually been in bed for almost two hours when fists bang against his front door. He lurches out of bed, swallowing the dry morning breath feeling. He should have known better than to try and get more than five minutes of sleep. Going to bed early? Pfft! Who needs that? He's young and healthy and...okay, completely aching all over from sleeping so heavily. "Premature ageing," he says thoughtfully as he checks he's at least wearing boxers and a sleep shirt, "maybe a new curse?" Swinging open the door, a picture of Buffy standing there imprinted on his eyelids. It's not Buffy. It's Spike. "What do you want?" Xander asks coldly. "And, hey, I'm not going to invite you in." Spike's crying, eyes still flashing golden every now and then. Buffy's blood is still on his lips, he knows it. "Have you been...?" Xander's face suddenly goes ever colder and he takes a step back. "You've been doing that whole vampire thing haven't you? Sucking people's blood?" "No. Can't," Spike reminds him timidly, in between panting sobs. "No, there's only one person-" Xander's eyes widen and he throws himself at Spike, smashing him across the face with his fist. "If you hurt Buffy-" Spike doesn't deny this so Xander contents himself with pounding the crap out of the creature. It's not much fun. Or rewarding. When the person - the thing - you're pounding is just crying and snivelling and taking it. Xander stands up and backs away into the safety of his apartment. "You hurt her," he says as Spike lies on the floor, bleeding his own blood, whimpering helplessly, "get up. Leave. Now. Leave. Now." Spike curls up. "Not what I came for." "I don't care what you came for!" Xander yells and then remembers the neighbours who already think he's a lot weird. "Just leave before you have a very dusty ending." "What I came for," Spike stands up, though he's weak and it's obviously a struggle. He sways on his feet. He shrugs off his jacket and sweater and rips open his shirt. "Do it." Xander blinks. "H-uh?" "I can see it. All you want is to do it. So. Do. It." "Whoa, much as I'd love to, you're not mine to dust," Xander holds his hands up, "Buffy makes big choices. And killing the guy who tried to rape her is as big as choices come." "Just do it," Spike's crying again now, desperation coming clear, "now! Please! I don't want to hurt her." Xander should say, "Hell, yeah!" and put the poor thing out of his misery. But he doesn't. He feels dim shock, dimmer disgust. The most overwhelming feeling is anger. Anger. Burning rage. No, worry is stronger. "Spike, what did you do?" he asks quietly. "She wouldn't let me go," Spike cries, covering his face with his hands, "she wouldn't let me go and he was showing her all the weakness. So...so..." his voice catches in his throat. When he finally speaks, he sounds matter-of-fact. "I bit her." Xander chokes. "Bit her? You bit Buffy? Like...bit her bit her?" "No! I mean, yeah. But...no. She's not dead or undead," Spike's sounding slightly more coherent and he looks at Xander with wide, wet eyes. "She'll never forgive me, will she?" " If I know Buffy," Xander rages, "she will! Where did you bite her?" "Her...arm." "Her arm?" Xander nearly falls down in disbelief. "Of all the stupid- " "I know!" Spike yells in a strangled voice. "I can't help it! It was...feral. I was afraid. She couldn't know. Couldn't know. Wouldn't want her thinking even less of me." "What can't she know?" Xander asks with interest. "And as for thinking less of you, that is sooo not possible." "Couldn't know." "Know what?" "I'm afraid," Spike meets Xander's gaze. "Of? Anything specific?" Xander asks, agitated with the cryptic half- answers. Spike looks deeply, darkly ashamed. "Of," he says, voice pathetically small, "of..." Xander crosses his arms across his chest. "Storms," Spike finishes, with pain in his voice. Without meaning to, Xander laughs out loud. "Oh, that's so...un Big Bad," he gasps. Spike's face freezes. "I'm sorry," Xander aplogises. "I'm really-" "SPIKE!" He flinches at the sound of Buffy's voice. She approaches him, panting, stake in her hand, eyes narrowed, mouth set in an angry line. "Spike," she says. She looks a mess. Her hair is in wet strings, her hand is dripping with blood that's running down her arm. Her dress is covered in the blood from the wound he gave her, dirt and grass stains. It's practically see through when it's wet. Spike averts his gaze quickly. That's bad. Bad to look. Bad to want. Bad to need her. Buffy paces towards Spike and Xander watches as he trembles, eyes darting from her face to the stake in her hand. Whoa, she brought Mr Pointy! This is serious. When she gets right in front of him, Spike closes his eyes, tears still running down his cheeks. Xander, for one moment, is slightly in awe. He knows that if Buffy was about to kill him, he'd been screaming and crying and begging. Then, in a moment that seems like an hour, Buffy drops Mr Pointy to the ground. The stake clatters. She throws her arms around Spike's neck, drawing him down into her, hugging him hard. Spike gasps before he breaks down, burying his face in her hair. "Buffy..." "Shh. Shh," Buffy looks at Xander over Spike's shoulder. "Buffy," Spike says her name over and over, "Buffy, do it quick. Kill me quick, Buffy. I don't want to hurt you again." "You won't ," she assures him, holding him close. "It's okay. And I won't hurt you. I'm not going to kill you because you're afraid. I don't work that way, mister." "Afraid?" Spike asks. "Of the storm," Buffy says casually, "it didn't take a genius." Spike sobs into her hair. "I'm s-s-so sorry." "Stop aplogising. It's very...wussy," Buffy laughs. Smile though your heart is breaking. She squeezes Spike once more before allowing him to pull back. "Buffy," Xanders says, voice matter-of-fact, "black panties. Naugh- tay." Buffy looks down at herself and feels a flush of embarrassment before she smiles and shrugs. "At least I'm not naked underneath, huh?" "At least," both Xander and Spike murmur wistfully. "You guys disgust me," Buffy says. Then she grabs Spike's hand. "Come with me." "But...the storm..." he hangs back. "You don't have to actually come outside. Just come with me," Buffy drags him away from Xander. "Hey, you forgot your stake!" "Hold it for me, I'll be back," Buffy promises. "Oh, no, not with him you won't." Buffy scowls at her unwavering friend. "Fine. Throw it to me." "My pleasure," Xander hurls Mr Pointy and Buffy catches it. "Thanks. And next time you're aiming for Spike tell me," she says sweetly, "I can help you get the right positioning." Xander crosses his arms and pouts as Buffy walks off with a reluctant vampire in tow. "Come on," Buffy says, digging her heels into the ground and tugging Spike along. He flops after her after a few paces and then stops again. This goes on until they reach outside of Xander's building. Or, Buffy does. Spike stands in the doorway. "Fine, you stay there," Buffy goes out into the rain and throws up her arms. Then she starts dancing. Dancing and laughing. Spike watches, mesmerized and, okay, a little creeped out. Has she gone crazy? The rain pours down on her. She has gone crazy, she has. But...she's never looked so beautiful. Spike smiles to himself. He's got his prize. |
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