Because I'm Broken
Spike halted abruptly to take in an unbelievable scene; his Little Princess was sweeping the porch.
“What?”
Her annoyed exclamation brought him to his senses and amused, he raised his left eyebrow.
Dawn huffed, straightened her posture and said defensively, “I was bored!”
Her chin rose and as an afterthought she crossed her arms on her chest. Spike felt his lips curve upwards.
“Right.”
He set his jaw to not laugh at her but the angry glint in Dawn's eyes was already being replaced by a spark of humour.
“Yeah,” she said.
They both smiled.
“Your sis upstairs?”
“You know she is.”
She turned back to her work as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I didn't know you played.”
The remark struck him as unexpected; the incident at the piano bar was almost two days ago, and he didn't think she would ask about it any more. He eased her back from his embrace a bit to look at her. They had been making out on her bed although they both knew that they would not do anything more with her younger sister downstairs. There was a moment of silence.
“There's a lot you don't know about me.”
“Why don't you tell me?”
Spike was at loss. His member was aching, the Bit was in the house, and the Slayer was getting intimate, and not in the physical sense. It was startling.
“You don't really want to know,” he said seriously.
She drew his face back to hers and started kissing along his jaw-line.
“Sure I do,” she said lightly and he smiled a bit sadly.
“Yeah, you do. You want to know everything, you curious creature,” he joked. It was not like she really cared anyway. He'd been though the same thing with Dru; he'd told her a bunch of things about himself but it had come back and bitten him in the arse not a lot later.
His hands resumed the exploration of her body. Spike kissed her collarbone and nibbled it up to her shoulder and back down again. Buffy encouraged him with small mewling noises.
“So, where... ah... did you learn?”
He heard a smile in her voice and glanced up at her.
“Used to play before.”
His hands were massaging her breasts and he wished they had some real privacy to remove her bra.
“Before what?” She moaned as one of his hands sneaked up her skirt and found a strip of lace of her underwear. Spike was pretty sure she didn’t remember what she had been asking about any more but Buffy surprised him with continuing, “Before like years ago, or before like when you were human?”
“Both.”
He groaned. She had grasped his shaft through his trousers and he was not sure he liked it; it was like doing the nasty while not sure if the children had already gone to bed. He pushed her hand away.
“Not now.”
But his own fingers were already in her knickers, bringing her off. He captured her mouth to swallow the noises she was making. Then he twisted the swollen nub and she came.
He was caressing her gently, wishing the moment would last. When her heartbeat slowed, she cupped his cheek.
“You should play for me sometimes.”
She kissed his lips playfully and then his nose. Spike felt his dead heart constrict.
“I should play you all the time; you make such wonderful noises.”
He deliberately chose to misunderstand her, and he knew that she knew. Therefore he was not surprised when her lips thinned and she pushed him away to get up.
They started with the farthest cemetery this time, but planned to hit the bars soon. Spike had once asked Buffy why she didn't hunt... ahem! patrol in the bars where vamps would be more likely to pick up their prey, and soon Giles had included certain entertainment areas into the grid. A quick sweep of the cemeteries showed no new vamp risings and then the real fun started.
Spike loved human hangouts as much as demon ones. The first gave him food and the other entertainment, and now that he didn't hunt any more, he indulged himself drinking in both.
“I had a strange feeling today when I came home,” Buffy suddenly said.
They were sitting in their second bar of the night, waiting for a female vampire to make her move, and it was getting boring. The chit was picky.
“It was so weird...” She continued when he looked at her, “As if somebody had been there, but not exactly.”
“In the house?” He extinguished his cigarette butt in the ashtray.
She nodded. “At first I was sure that the intruder was still inside, but when I searched the house, there was nothing.”
Spike saw that it was bugging her, although she was trying to play it down.
“Was anything missing, or out of place?”
She shook her head. “No, I was probably just imagining it.”
Suddenly Spike straightened.
“Was Nibblet there?”
Buffy nodded, “Yes, but she wouldn't have heard anything even if a robber took the whole closet of her precious clothes; she was blasting one of your CDs.”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “The Bit has a good taste.”
Buffy snorted but then froze.
“Another one,“ was all she said.
Spike scanned the room and noticed their subject conversing with a male of the same species. Spike grinned; they were going to have a bit fun today after all. He drowned his drink in anticipation.
Buffy allowed herself a smile. Spike was fidgeting like a little boy on Christmas morning. The idea of a fight had excited her too, but seeing Spike like that turned her on in a completely different way.
She leaned closer to him, seemingly to observe the vampires.
“So, what do you think about the possibility of someone snooping around my place?” Her foot brushed against his calf and Spike smirked not looking at her. “Am I just being paranoid?” she asked.
“It's bad in any case; either there was someone in the house, or you are imagining things that aren't there.”
She punched him playfully.
Scarcely ten minutes later the pair of vampires walked outside without a victim. It was unusual but worked to their advantage. Buffy stood and followed them out, Spike on her heels.
“Excuse me,” Buffy called out as soon as they were all a couple of metres down the street. “Do you happen to know where the nearest police station is? That man is bothering me!” She gestured towards Spike. Buffy knew that he was suppressing a snort.
The couple ahead of them turned. For a moment Buffy thought that the woman startled. If she had, she recovered so quickly Buffy was unsure of what she’d seen.
“Really? Is there anything I can do?” the man asked, stepping closer. He was taller than Spike but of even a slighter build. With vampires that never meant much though.
“Oh, yes, whelp, glad you asked,” Spike drawled. “You can come closer and get killed.” He had now embraced his dangerous stalker persona; not much acting was needed.
Buffy threw him a scared look and took a couple of steps nearer to the other woman. The dyed brunette put her arm around Buffy's waist and Spike's nostrils flared.
“Don't be afraid, we won't let him hurt you,” the woman said soothingly. To Buffy it would have sounded fake even if she hadn't known about the brunette being a vampire.
“Look here, dickhead,” the taller man grunted while stepping closer to Spike, “I don't think you understand the situation here...” Just as he reached Spike's personal space he faltered. “Hey Mab, he's one of ours,” he threw over his shoulder, his tone surprised.
Spike grinned, “Of course I am, you fucker.” He threw the first punch.
The other vampire staggered back but recovered quickly and charged. Spike jumped aside, kicked him in the lower back and leaped to rain a series of kicks and punches on the guy.
“How unbelievably stupid has a vampire got to be not to recognise a master vampire?” Spike taunted between punches.
Buffy on the other hand, had not yet got the fill of her fun. She was still clutching Mab and whimpering as if in fear, though it was just as genuine a performance as the vampiress faking sympathy earlier.
Finally it dawned on the female vamp that her partner wasn't going to beat his opponent and she tried to jump into the fray.
“And where do you think you're going?” Buffy dropped the pretence and grabbed the other woman's arm. The brunette tried to wrench herself free but Buffy held on. The vampire's eyes widened and Buffy grinned.
“Yep, Slayer here!” She threw the woman face first into the wall. “Oops!” she said. “Sorry about the make-up!”
Buffy drew the fight out a bit, but got bored quickly. The vampire was no challenge for her; she was probably only a couple of years old. When she dusted the creature, Spike had just pinned his victim to the wall. It seemed to be only slightly more of a real fight than the one Buffy herself had had, but Spike had always known how to make the most of a confrontation.
Suddenly she sensed a change in him. Spike turned the man around and looking him in the eye slowly shook his head. At that moment the younger vampire broke free. He took off towards the main street but Spike had stopped playing and leaped. He took hold of the vamp's head and twisted it violently. By the time Spike landed on his feet, there was a cloud of dust around him.
Buffy could only stare. She had seen Spike do that before, of course, but only in the heat of a battle against more numerous opponents where there had been a lot at stake, or when he was really angry.
When he turned around, he didn't look at her. He started to brush the dust off of him, but it was evident that his thoughts were far away.
“What is it, Spike?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.” She briefly caught his gaze; it was full of confusion and uncertainty. “Let's go,” was all he said.
He set off towards the next designated hangout, but she grabbed his arm.
“Tell me what it is.”
He stopped for a moment. “I didn't like his scent,” he grit vehemently.
“What?!”
Buffy was getting angry. Mostly because she had no idea if Spike was being evasive on purpose, or too confused to answer her. It was making her worry and she didn't like worrying. She hurried to catch up with him.
“Don't be ridiculous, Spike! Something's bothering you; I want to know what it is!”
His pace was fast and she had to step almost twice as fast to keep up.
“Spike, stop!”
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. Buffy prepared to tackle and beat the truth out of him.
“Look,” he said then, slowing down. “I'm not stalling on purpose, I just don't know, all right?” He fished out a cigarette and lit up.
“What do you mean?” She eyed the cigarette packet. “Where did you get those?” she threw in accusingly.
He raised his brow.
Not that Buffy knew anything about cigarettes, but the last time she went to the Bronze, she had been forced to listen to an elaborate discussion about different brands some of Xander's friends from work had indulged in. Needless to say, even Xander had been bored, but on the plus side, Buffy knew now that this particular brand Spike held in his hands was very expensive.
“You stole them, didn't you!”
They stopped and Spike huffed.
“Make up your mind, woman! What are you brassed off about? Can't defend myself on all fronts at the same time.”
Buffy understood the sheer ridiculousness of her accusation and grit her teeth. He was a vampire; of course he had stolen them.
“Tell me about the vampire,” she finally said, sighing.
He pursed his lips and resumed walking.
“Honestly, I don't know what to tell you. His scent threw me.” He paused. “Or maybe it was not actually his scent; it might have been someone else's scent on him.”
“Did you recognise it?”
“No. But that's just it! For a moment there I had a feeling that I knew who it was. But at the same time it's a totally foreign scent. It's like a memory I've never had.” His brow furrowed.
“Who did you think it was?”
Suddenly Spike laughed, but broke it off abruptly.
“Don't really know, it's just a feeling I have.”
Buffy thought he was lying but didn't call him on it. Most likely it didn't matter. His demonic associates were not her concern. She cast Spike a glance and saw him reach into his breast pocket for his precious flask. He took a gulp. Yeah, no reason to worry.
Eleanor glided regally through the rooms. She didn't like what she saw; everything was in shambles, just as her meagre existence. But that would change soon.
She had ordered large mirrors in all the rooms, just to show them her superiority. She was always the only person in the room who had a reflection. Eleanor liked her posture, she was naturally beautiful, but the thing that made her truly irresistible was her conduct. Pity she had figured out how to manipulate men only after her husband had left. 'That bastard!'
“Heather!”
The girl appeared a moment later.
“They have not yet returned,” she said immediately.
Eleanor picked up a vase from the tray and hurled it into one of the wall-length mirrors next to the girl. The vase and the mirror broke. Eleanor smiled.
“How's our prisoner doing today?” she asked perfectly amiably.
“She's been quieter than usual, mistress.”
Eleanor gestured towards the mirror.
“Get this mess sorted out and go to sleep, Heather. I'll feed her myself.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
She didn't wait to see the girl curtsy and turned towards the upper rooms. Eleanor unlocked the heavy oak doors and stepped in. The woman was huddled on the bed, clutching a pillow. She looked pathetic like that; weak and useless. Her long dark hair was in disarray and the long silky nightgown had ridden up almost to her waist. She had beautiful legs, Eleanor decided.
She sat on the bed and stroked the woman's hair. Despite Eleanor being younger, she felt strong and more powerful compared to the vulnerable creature on the bed. It really was a stroke of genius that Eleanor had snatched her, there was so much fun to be had now.
“Get up my sweet, it's time to sate our desires.”
When the other woman whimpered, Eleanor' lips stretched into a delighted smile.
Spike was watching her sleep. She was cradled in his arms, her face peaceful and young. Beautiful. He remembered watching other women sleeping in his arms like that; none of them had loved him.
He brushed her cheek gently and for a moment a tremor ran through him. The moon cast the most peculiar light on her; the blonde hair looked almost like auburn and his heart constricted the second time that night.
Unbidden his thoughts turned to the vampire he'd dusted earlier that evening. He could still conjure the smell that had shocked him so much. Spike had told Buffy the truth. The scent was unfamiliar to him. But then why had it made him think of his first love? Why had her pale face haunted him through the evening?
Spike loved hearing Buffy breathe, her heart pump the blood through her veins. Spike's arms tightened around her delicate body. He remembered cradling another body to him like that, but it had been cold, motionless and very, very pale. Even the lips, that had once been a darker shade of pink, had turned ashen. A lone trail of blood had been trickling form the corner of her kissable mouth and down the column of her delicate neck to meet two tiny puncture wounds.
He had broken then. It was then that he had died, not when Drusilla finally bit him.
He was still broken.
To Be Continued