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Authors Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I don´t own anything. Except my clothes.


Everything dies, maybe that´s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.

Atlantic City / Bruce Springsteen






Dip and rise. Dip and rise.
She watched the fryer disappear and reappear in the cooked oil. The smell was heavy around her, penetrating and clogging her pores, making her sweat. The back of her striped shirt clung to her back and beads of sweat were pouring down beneath her waistline. Could her life get any worse?

“Summers, you got a personal phone call. Make it quick.”

Probably




“What’s wrong?”

“Calm down. It’s just me” Dawn’s frail voice sounded.

“Again, what’s wrong?”



Buffy stood looming over her little sister who was laying on her bed, a thermometer shoved down her throat. Dawn, acutely aware of their financial situation, was obviously trying to cover up; she had done nothing but gone on and on about how much better she was all ready feeling ever since Buffy had walked through the front door. But Buffy could feel the fever rolling off her pale clammy face in waves. Joyce had always stayed home with them when they were sick and that was probably the mommy thing to do. Of course Buffy wasn’t really a mommy, was she now. Not even a mommy-type because they should…care. more.
Giles was gone, Xander was working, Willow. Yeah she could ask Willow. She was of course busy with Amy but the only other person she could ask was him and she would never ask him.






“Spike! What are you doing here?”

“You knock down the door to my crypt as you ask me what I’m doin here?”

“Oh…”

“Buffy..” His tone had dropped a notch, well several actually. She took a step backwards

“No, I’m not here for that.” Dip and rise. Dip and raise “Aren’t you supposed to be out, I mean, at least trying to act evil?”

Spike ventured up to her. “You know, Slayer. It’s not my fault you are stuck at that deadbeat workplace.”

She did not want to have that discussion again. “I need you to do something.”

Spike gave her a very suggestive look

“No.” She shook her head.

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

“And we wont´. I mean you. You won’t.”

He pouted. He tilted his head to the left in the way that always signalled her that he was paying attention.

“Dawn is sick.”

“The Niblet? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing serious but she needs to be kept an eye on.”

“And you need my help?”

Good she hated that smirk She gave him a blank stare, turned and walked out. Seconds later she heard twigs breaking on the ground closely behind her. Good doggy




She continued to go to work every day and Spike took care of Dawn during the days. Buffy´d let him fuck her every evening after work. She would lie down on her bed like a rag doll and spread her legs for him, not even bothering to shower first because what did matter anyway. He would go to the task immediately, letting himself drown over and over again in her despair and coming with a moan, his open mouth in the crook of her mouth. They rarely said a word to each other, they had unconsciously commenced in a pact that she hadn’t any interest in breaking. And she never allowed him to stay the night but would let him back into the house when she left for work in the mornings.






Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip

“Clear skies are predicted over southern California with temperatures rising up to perhaps 120 Fahrenheit and now…”

Yet another fabulous day in the life of Buffy Summers She rolled out of bed and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. “Spike!” Her lover stood at the sink wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. Who gave him the right?! “What are you doing?”

“What now, luv?”

“Did you spend the night here - under *my* roof?”

His relaxed stance rippled off. “Well..yeah, so what if I did? Don’t be such a bitch.”

That took the wind out of her. For about three seconds. “Well at least I am a real person, not a walking Ken doll.”

“Look, Buffy. I was a bit knackered after the activities last night and good old Spike thought...“

“I don’t care what you think, Spike.”

“I deserve some respect around here!”

“For doing what? Or are you doing something apart from being a two-legged dildo?”

“Whatever. But you are not getting your favourite toy tonigh´then. Wouldn’t wanna put it in you even if you would promise to suck it for once!”

“It’s over, Spike. Get out.” No he can’t leave. He has to take care of Dawn. She watched him as he disappeared out the door, barefoot with his boots and coat under his arm and a blanket over his head. Go Buffy


Fifteen minutes later she finally got enough courage to walk over to the window and look out into the garden. Spike sat in the shadow under a tree just a few yards away, looking at the house like a faithful watchdog. Thank god.

Five minutes later they met in the doorway, her on the way to work in her striped outfit, him
rushing over the threshold in a cloud of smoke, neither saying a word.


That night he fucked her up against a wall so hard that she passed out. When she woke up she asked him to do it again.







It had been ten days and Dawn was still running a fever, but at least last night they had detected that her fever had gone down a little.

Buffy stood on the threshold watching him tuck Dawn in, covering her shivering body from head to toe in a warm blanket. He moved with slow graceful, quiet movements that resembled those of a predator. And he was an animal of course. Buffy knew it and he knew it. But both pretended otherwise, may it be for different reasons. He turned off the night lamp and pulled back a stray hair with one of his cold digits.

He rose from the bed without making a sound and shut the door close from the outside. Buffy briefly wondered over how he could be so gentle in one moment, only to fuck her so roughly the next.







“Will you just leave me alone?”

“Is that what you really want, Slayer?”

“Don’t me call that.” She signaled for him to look around with her eyes.A woman in a red posh dress and heavy make-up sat next to a thin man in a brown tweed jacket a few feet away, both of them apparently watching the machine as their laundry tumbled round and round. Funny looking couple. Because yes, you yourself look so normal. And did he use to be that thin? She watched Spike in the corner of her eyes as he took the rest of the laundry and put it in another machine. He had always been lean, but now he looked…skinny. His black trousers hung from his narrow hips and would probably fall off if it hadn’t been for the belt, the coat looked too big for him and the stomach she briefly glanced where his shirt was recklessly tucked in his pants seemed hollow. He looks tired. Did I make him that way? Then she watched her own distorted image in the glass hatch. Dark ring under her eyes. Stains on her white shirt. Way to thin. She cringed and slammed the hatchet shut. She raised an eyebrow. “And yes. I do want you to leave me alone.”

“Like hell you do” He mumbled as they sat down, shoulder to shoulder, on the bench to wait for the laundry to finish.








Dip and rise. Dip and rise.
She watched the fryer go up and down of the cooked oil. The smell was heavy around her, penetrating and clogging her pores, making her sweat. The back of her striped shirt clung to her back and beads of sweat were pouring down beneath her waistline. Could her life get any worse? She looked up and met his penetrating stare.

She met him outback. Their narrow hips gnawing at each other. She rejoiced in the feeling. Afterwards he placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. She didn’t kiss him back of course but she didn’t stop him. He pulled out a tissue from his pocket and cleaned her thighs and pussy, and pulled up her pants and buttoned them up. She walked towards the back entrance of the Double meat palace but stopped and cast a glance over her shoulder. He was still standing there with his fly open and dick hanging out.

“Th-thanks.”

He looked surprise for half a second before the usual smirk was firmly back in place.











”Buffy!”

A small body collided with hers as she stepped over the threshold to her house.

“Look! I’m all better!”

And she really looked it to. The colour was back in place on her cheeks, her eyes no longer moist and red. “That’s really good, Dawn.” And almost equally good to not need him anymore “Is Spike around?”

“No he left a while ago as soon as he saw that I was fine. It was really neat; he could tell my body temperature just by touching my nose. It was sooo cool!” The teenager practically was bouncing up and down.

Dawn is better. Then I’m all alone again. My god I’m horrible to even think that. She embraced Dawn, almost squeezing the air out of her.

“Yes, sis. I love you too. But air would be nice.”







“It’s been a while.”

Buffy ignored the voice and continued walking. But of course it refused to just go away. It spoke again.

“You really think I’m gonna just let you disappear? That I wouldn’t notice? I’m a vampire, remember. I can smell you miles away, you didn’t think I would notice when you were standing right outside my crypt?”

“That whole vampire-smelling thing is actually kind of gross, you know that right?”

“Luv, we fight or we fuck, that’s what we do. So which is it now?“ He stood before her, equally angry as he was aroused.

“If you are gonna be like that. Neither.”

“Oh come on. You want a poke, don’t ya?”

She hit him then. He hit her back of course, his vampire face in place.

As she rose from the ground, blood dripping from her split lip, something came over her and she started laughing. Hard.

Spike looked at her as she had lost her mind. And maybe she had. He watched as giggles made her whole body shake and soon his dark laughter mingled with hers.

Buffy shook so hard that she had to sit down on the ground, tears flooding her eyes and rolling down her cheek. She had to pause to be able to breathe. “We’re such drama queens, aren’t we?”

Spike was still doubled over I laughter, one hand to the ground to keep his balance. She’d never seen anything like it – a vampire laughing. Its fanged mouth turned into a broad grin, laugh wrinkles creasing the bumpy skin. She stood up, her laughter dissipated. “Come on. Let’s fuck.”







In the aftermath of the fuck, sex or whatever you want to call in, Buffy lay awake watching Spike sleeping, his thin arms and legs, his cock resting on his stomach. He is flesh just like me. Flesh that can rot away. Just like me. She stood up and let her feet touch the cold surface of the crypt. So cold. She slowly walked over to the heavy wooden door and felt the brown old, moist wood. The crypt smelt like old dirt and grass with a bit of a sweet smell mingled into the mix. She kneeled and explored the floor with her fingertips. Damp. Old. She bent down and smelled it. Grass. Rain. Mud. She opened the door and walked into the rain that was pouring down. The darkness was at times scattered by thunderbolts that scared off animals and vampires alike. She let the rain chill her naked body; she allowed it pour down her breasts, washing away the sweat and saliva. It feels…yeah..it feels. She walked back inside.






THE END




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