He stepped softly, the night clubs deafening music hid the sound of his shoes whispering across the pavement. The smell of her fear and blood painted the air. Whimpers of pain … pitiful sounds that would have excited and thrilled him not ten years earlier now made his stomach clench in disgust and anger for the vampire who caused her to fear. The vampire had the young woman pressed against a garbage dumpster; she cried out as his fangs scraped harshly on her neck. Spike paused a moment, half cursing that he couldn’t leave the girl, his other half feeling guilty for even thinking of leaving her.
-It surely wouldn’t be the right thing to do, now would it?- A voice from a hundred years before - and with a considerably smarter accent - harped in his brain, shut the bloody fuck up, he growled back. The argument seemed to never change. Shaking his thoughts away he stepped forward, out of the shadows.
“Well, well…what do we have ‘ere?”
The vampire attacking the girl looked behind him, blood streaking down his chin. He clutched the sobbing woman tighter, sneering at the intruding vampire. “This one’s mine. Go get your own.”
“Oh, I think not.”
The vampire holding the girl growled, his eyes flashing. Turning, he threw the woman down. The dark haired vampire turned threatenly towards Spike. “I don’t like to be disturbed while I’m eating.”
Spike remained indifferent to the hostile stance of the other vampire. He cocked his head, as though curious. “What are you, six months old?”
An insulted growl was his answer, Spike smiled, “Ah, maybe one year, yeh?”
Spike sighed and rolled his eyes as the other vampire charged at him. Spike, with seeming carelessness, grabbed his attacker by the throat and pushed him roughly against the alley’s brick wall.
“Not more than two years, I’d wager.” Spike continued as though nothing had happened, his fingers digging around the younger vampires’ throat. “Even a two year old would know when he was facing a Master.”
The younger vampire’s eyes widened, horror and terror etching over his features.
The Master loosened a stake from his sleeve, and then without ceremony, plunged it into the vampires’ chest. Spike watched the dust flutter between his fingers. “Bloody swear they’re gettin’ more stupid every year…” He muttered to himself, sliding the stake back up his sleeve.
He walked over to the dumpster and looked behind it. The woman gasped when she saw him, her face wet and blotchy from tears. She sprang from her hiding space wrapping her arms around her savior, clutching desperately at his shirt.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” she blubbered, “I thought I…he bit me! The bastard bit me!”
Spike stared down at the woman who was holding onto to him in a vice-grip, his eyebrows furrowed. He shook her off harshly, growling in displeasure.
“Get away from me.”
“Please let me…I…”
Spike growled pushing the woman back, “Get away from me.” He saw and heard her intake of breath as his eyes briefly streaked gold.
She backed up, her eyes riveted to his face. Fear overcoming any feelings of gratitude she had for him. He watched her run away, her footsteps soon fading from his ears.
Eventually, they all ran away.
**~~**
Spike sat at the bar, his eyes downcast, staring into the red depths of his glass. He had ordered it two hours before, and still it sat untouched.
He constantly wondered why he continued this. He never really thought of himself as masochistic…well…maybe a century with Dru might argue that. He shrugged half heartedly, bygones. He wasn’t like Angel, the grand poof. He was certain of that. He supposed it was because he still felt horrid guilt for…
He could even feel his demon shying away from her name. Her memory.
Spike swore, finally grabbing the glass and drinking its contents. It burned all the way down.
He refused to let his mind wander, it usually took him to dangerous places that he had forbade himself to think about.
He may have appeared unaware of his surroundings, but even with his inner turmoil he knew exactly what was happening around him. Whether he wanted to know or not, ingrained in his vampire genetic code he had the ability to know exactly his environment without an actual visual assessment. As years passed after his human death he found this trait only strengthened as well as his other vampiric skills.
By the time he had entered the bar and ordered his drink, he knew exactly what and how many creatures were in the bar, which said demons were the most likely to be a physical threat, and where all the exits were.
It was in this same way he knew the scent and its owner that drifted to him slowly, assaulting his senses, making him blink for the first time in an hour, his brow creasing, disbelieving.
He knew that scent.
-We know that scent.-
He never thought…
It was quick. He barely felt the pain of his head hitting the wall. He blinked blearily as the sides of his vision darkened slightly.
A hand was around his neck. If Spike had needed air he would have been choking by now. Even so, as the hand tightened his neck muscles clenched. The hand shoved him against a wall. Looking at his assaulter he stared into two dark eyes.
The fist was fast. Spike had no time to brace himself for the attack. His head snapped to the side, blood poured from a wound at his lip.
His attacker growled, “I knew it was you. I knew it.”
Spike found himself dimly aware that no one in the bar had seemed to notice, or care that he was being attacked. Not that this was unheard of; being the kind of bar it was, physical disagreements between patrons were a regular occurrence. No one turned to his aid. For one insane moment he felt like laughing.
Xander dragged the limp vampire out of the bar throwing Spike to the pavement. Reaching into his back pocket, Xander slipped out a sharp stake, kneeled and placed it against Spike’s chest.
“Four years. I’ve waited four years for this.” Xander hissed, pressing the stake. Spike gasped softly in pain, but made no move to defend himself. “How does this feel, Spikey? How does it feel to have no control? To be controlled?”
Spike did nothing. Said nothing. He only stared at the ground, his shoulders slumped in resignation.
Xander paused. He had expected a fight from Spike. He had been expecting it; he had counted on it.
“Look at me!” Xander demanded, he pulled Spike up and slammed him up against the wall pushing the stake harder for emphasis. Spike looked up at him, but just as quickly looked away.
Xander paused, mentally taking a step back, confusion creasing his face. Spike’s eyes…he did not know what exactly he had been expecting but not the raw pain…not the acceptance. Acceptance!
When Xander didn’t move, Spike growled in the back of his throat. “Do it. Do it, dammit.” Spike pushed his chest forward, groaning in pain as the stake further penetrated past the thin layer of skin, letting blood flow.
“What the hell…” Xander stepped back, his eyes wide. He dropped his hand holding the stake, the weapon slid from his fingers landing on the ground with a hollow thud. Spike fell to his knees in front of him, his head hanging.
Spike looked up at Xander, pleading with tears running down his face, “God dammit, just fuckin’ do it. Kill me.”
Xander took another step back shock covering his face, his mouth opening.
Spike felt sudden harsh anger. “Come on, you wanker! You came to kill me, didn’t you?!” His voice lowered as quickly as it had risen, “For…for what I did. For what I did to her. Her. Right? Do it. Do it. Do it!”
“Jesus,” Xander breathed, “What the hell…”
Spike didn’t hear Xander. All he could hear was the voice in his head, the one that had been with him since Africa, telling him that this, this meeting with Xander, was what they’d been waiting for. Hands clawed at Spike’s face, he realized they were his own. He glared up at Xander, Spike knew the way to Xander was through anger; it’d always worked in the past. “Aren’t you man enough? Come on, you berk, you know it’s what you want. It’s what I deserve. You know it. I’ve waited. I’ve waited.”
Xander remained mute.
“Do it. You know what I am. What I’ve done,” Spike’s throat caught on a sob, “the children I’ve killed, the mothers, husbands ...and h-her. And her. What I did to her.”
Spike curled up on himself, he hugged his knees while sobs racked his body. Images clouding his mind. Victims, victims, victims, and her. Always her.
It wasn’t until much later that he realized Xander had left.
**~~**
Spike didn’t see Xander again until a week later.
It was the same setting. The same demon bar. However, this time, instead of assaulting him, Xander sat on a stool next to Spike.
Spike knew he was there, of course. But he said nothing to the human.
Xander was well into his second beer before he said a word to Spike.
“You’ve stopped bleaching your hair.”
“Wha…” Spike’s hand strayed to his head, realizing Xander was right. When had he stopped? -Africa-, the voice reminded him. Ah. Yes. Africa. Spike glanced sideways at Xander, feeling slightly unnerved by the human’s observation, “I s’pose.”
Several moments passed.
“What are you doing in New York?”
Spike twirled his glass, watching its red liquid swirl around, and then answered, “Does it really matter, mate?”
Xander shrugged.
Spike stared into his glass, contemplating, “The wolf never asks the rabbit why its there. It just eats it.”
When Xander chuckled Spike turned, eyebrow raised.
Xander abruptly stopped laughing and ordered another beer.
Spike stared at him curiously. “I never thought you wouldn’t kill me on sight if we met again.”
Xander took the new bottle and swallowed a sip, looking suddenly thoughtful, “I wasn’t going to kill you, y’know.”
Spike narrowed his eyes briefly, studying the human before looking away. “Yeah, I kind of noticed.”
Xander watched a couple female Shakra demons with obvious interest for a few moments. “So, what are you doing in New York?”
“Just because you ask the same question over and over doesn’t mean you’ll get your answer.”
Xander only smiled, “We thought you were dead,” he paused, his lips tilting in a smile, “well, dead-er.”
“As good as.” Spike muttered, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation. It was actually slightly surreal. That Spike was actually having a civil conversation with Xander. The human was so…different. What had happened to the kid that killed big bads first, asked questions later?
Xander turned to face Spike, studying the previously platinum blonde, his expression serious. “Why did you want me to kill you?”
Spike froze. He glanced over at Xander. “Do you really care?”
Xander shrugged, turning back to his own drink, “Not particularly. Just asking out of curiosity’s sake. It’s not every day you see a vamp begging to be dusted. Though, it would make the slaying so much easier.”
Spike looked away, for a brief moment he considered actually telling the human the truth. The truth that Spike had begged Xander to kill him because he thought he deserved to die…but not just by any hand, but by the hand that he had wronged so terribly, so unforgivably. And in that alley way, with Xander poised to strike, he had a revelation: Xander was a conduit to her, his death through Xander’s hands was almost as good as her doing it herself. And god…he just wanted the pain to stop. But later, much later, after he’d picked himself off the ground he knew it wasn’t right. If anyone was going to kill him it had to be her. If anyone had the right to his death, it was her.
But Spike couldn’t tell Xander any of this. “Let’s call it momentary insanity.”
Xander studied the vampire for a moment, his eyes expressing his disbelief. Eventually he merely shrugged as though accepting the excuse.
“So, where’d you go after you left Sunnydale?”
Spike said nothing. He’d realized a long time ago that the best way to not answer a question was to ignore it. After over ten minutes of silence Xander sighed.
“How long have you been in New York, then?”
Spike shrugged, “Two years, give or take a month.”
“Huh.”
The vampire turned, an eyebrow raised in question, “What?”
Xander shook his head dismissively, “Nothing.”
They sat in silence for another hour before Xander rose, paid for his beer, then left without a backward glance.
**~~**
Love it? Hate it?
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!