Fear.
For over a century, Spike had revelled in it—gotten a thrill as it engulfed his victim’s eyes. He would rejoice when the paralysing terror his demon visage evoked, would merge with the loathed acceptance of their inevitable fate. The world was his to experience through bloodshed and terror, with his Dark Princess by his side, and with death and destruction in their wake. Unlife had been good.
And then he met her. The Slayer. Buffy Summers.
Pain in his arse and love of his bloody life.
Somewhere along the way, his entire world had tilted on its axis. The tiny blonde had worked her way into his unbeating heart. His every waking moment consumed by thoughts of the girl who should be his mortal enemy. The girl who’d made him want to change.
Tonight, Spike had seen that fear in her emerald green eyes just moments before she slammed the door in his face. Disbelief clouded his mind as he remained there, staring in bewilderment at the Summers’ front door, hoping it would somehow provide the answers he sought. Numbness overwhelmed the stunned vampire. The bitch had disinvited him! Even before he’d tied her up and declared his love, she’d gone and bloody locked him out!
The duel rejection from both her life and home was crippling. Pain and anger burnt a fiery trail within him; hurt and betrayal fuelled the flames. Spike felt suffocated by his frustration. So much so, that two hours and several bottles of Jack Daniels later, Willy had been faced with a trashed bar and a dead Tyrahl demon bleeding all over his new pool table.
Armed with another bottle of whiskey, courtesy of the hapless bartender, Spike staggered through Sunnydale’s filthy alleyways, somehow finding himself beneath Buffy’s bedroom window. The house was shrouded in darkness, and using his preternatural senses, he detected the steady heartbeats of the three females inside. He was extremely tempted to pound on the door until the Slayer agreed to talk to him, but he knew Buffy was stubborn enough to ignore the commotion, and the thought of dealing with an extremely pissed off Joyce was enough to scare even him.
Pathetic!
William the Bloody, master vampire and former scourge of Europe, terrified of the Slayers mother! God, if Peaches could see him now...
With a dejected sigh, Spike turned and headed for home, never noticing the shadowy figure in the window above.
Buffy couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her exhausted lids, she pictured his expressive blue eyes pleading with her to believe him.
I’m drowning in you.
The words alone caused a dull pain to spread throughout her chest. A battle raged within; her duties as a Slayer conflicting with the desires of her aching heart. And, oh, did she want to give in, accept his words and say to hell with what’s expected of her. Take a page out of Faith’s handbook for once in her life.
Want. Take. Have.
As usual, the sensible part of her mind had come out victorious. Angry words spilt from her lips as she dismissed his feelings and watched his eyes fill with hurt and anger. Rolling over to her side, Buffy stared at her bedroom window and the new garlic accessories that adorned it.
Dammit! He’s a demon, he doesn’t have a soul. He doesn’t even know how to love, she thought, trying to convince her own mind that it was just a sick infatuation on his part. What about Drusilla? Her inner voice answered back. He loved her for over a hundred years.
Sighing, she rolled to her back and gazed at her bedroom ceiling. There was no denying the fact that Spike had been devoted to his loony toon ex-girlfriend. Hell, he’d probably still be with her if the skanky ho-bag wasn’t spreading her legs for every demon that crossed her path—and that was so not jealousy she felt at the thought of Spike and another woman!
My God, she thought. He was willing to stake his sire to convince me he was serious. The significance of that action was not lost on the Slayer. Dru wasn’t just his maker. For over a century she was his entire world, and the fact that Spike was willing to dust her was incredible. Buffy had seen the truth of his words behind his beseeching gaze, and if Spike had only looked a little closer, he would have realised that she not only believed him, but was desperately trying to conceal her own raging emotions.
Spike was changing. Admittedly, the chip prohibited him from biting anyone, but Spike was clever, and Buffy knew that if he’d really wanted to, he would have found a way around it. I bet that crazy bitch would have provided him with fresh kills, she thought resentfully. Instead, Spike had adapted, fought alongside her, and helped her take on Glory. Buffy had entrusted the safety of her family to the vampire on several occasions.
Entrusting him with her heart, however, was another matter entirely.
Buffy had learned her lesson with Angel. Never again would she let herself act on her emotions when the undead were involved. Even if the vampire in question had the bluest eyes, the most perfect cheekbones and the most kissable lips she’d ever seen!
A familiar tingle at the back of her neck had Buffy crossing the room to peer out of her bedroom window. She arrived in time to see Spike, his shoulders slumped in defeat, turn and walk away. Sighing, she returned to her bed, a single, dejected notion ringing clear over her confused mind.
They always walk away.
Fortunately for the beleaguered vampire, Spike staggered through the door to his crypt mere moments before the first golden rays of sunlight broke through the early morning haze. Crossing the upper level with as much grace as his inebriated limbs permitted, he stumbled through the hatch and landed in a twisted heap on the ground below. Swallowing the last of his whiskey, he hurled the bottle at the opposite wall, flinching as the sound of smashing glass reverberated throughout the ancient structure.
“Crazy bloody slayers,” he mumbled, before resting his head on the floor and passing out.
It was late afternoon when Spike regained consciousness, quite literally, nursing the hangover from Hell. Frowning, he tried to piece together his disjointed memories. Spike’s aching limbs reminded him of the brawl he’d started at Willy’s. His clothing reeked of Tyrahl blood and who knows what, from the alleyways he’d passed through on the way to...
Oh, Bollocks.
“Please, God,” he groaned as he remembered being outside Buffy’s home. “Please tell me I didn’t recite any soddin’ poetry!” A sardonic chuckle escaped his throat at the thought of serenading his fair Juliet. “She’d have bloody staked me for sure,” he muttered, hauling himself up the ladder to the upper level.
He poured a tall glass of blood and mixed in some burba weed, before switching on the television and sitting down in his worn armchair. The latest episode of Passions faded into background noise, his thoughts preoccupied with Buffy’s sudden decision to banish him from her house. She was the strongest Slayer he’d ever seen. Her fighting skills were honed to perfection and her body was a lethal weapon.
So what the hell is she afraid of?
Okay, so in retrospect, chaining her up probably wasn’t the best way to win her heart, but in his defence, she hadn’t left him with many options.
What was I supposed to do, show up at her doorstep with flowers and a bloody picnic?
Buffy wouldn’t give him the time of day. His every effort to prove to her that he had changed had been ignored, and he was forced to watch as time after time, the girl of his dreams dismissed him with a cutting remark and a flick of her golden hair.
I had to make her listen, had to prove I’m not like the others.
And yet, the fact remained that Buffy had disinvited him prior to his somewhat misguided kidnapping. Why now? He’d had an invite to her home ever since coming to her for help back in the Angelus days; back when he’d wanted her dead, and yet, she’d never bothered to revoke it. Spike couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done something purely out of the evilness of his heart, and with the chip in his head, Buffy knew he couldn’t physically hurt her or her family.
Wouldn’t even if I could. Silly chit should know that by now!
Despite these facts, something had scared the Slayer enough to banish him from her home. Picturing her face as she closed the door, Spike’s eyes widened as he remembered her emerald green orbs, swamped by that familiar fear and something akin to regret.
“Bleedin’ Christ!” Jumping to his feet, Spike felt the unneeded air catch in his long dead lungs. “She’s not afraid of me,” he whispered, as the final piece of the puzzle slid into place.
“She’s afraid of what she feels!”
After his moment of clarity, Spike spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about Buffy’s recent actions. He was convinced that she had feelings for him and now things were starting to make sense. She was afraid of getting hurt. Spike knew her romantic history was nothing to brag about. Losing your virginity to your first love, who then decides to torment and kill your friends, all the while, trying to send the world to Hell, doesn’t tend to fill one with confidence. Add to that, getting sweet-talked into a one night stand with an idiot college boy, and then running the very real risk of dying from boredom due to long term exposure to Captain Cardboard was enough to make anyone skittish.
Thank God those wankers were stupid enough to leave her, he thought, as a sinful grin curled his lips.
No wonder she was panicking. He could understand her concerns about caring for another vampire, but as far as he was concerned, Buffy was still acting like an unreasonable bitch, and his demon’s anger was protesting in full force. Buffy was trying so hard to be normal; she was denying what she really wanted.
A normal life. Spike snorted in disgust. “She’s the bloody Slayer for crying out loud, she’s never going to be normal.”
And normal will never be enough for her.
“Bugger this!” he said in exasperation, rising from his armchair and shrugging into his duster. Spike began to pace around his crypt. “I’m not just gonna sit here and brood like that soddin’ git, Angel. I’ve got me a girl to find!”
The instant that dusk fell, Spike stormed from his crypt, black leather swirling behind him, and single-mindedly went in search of Buffy. His bloody grandsire had really done a number on the poor girl’s head, and one way or another, Spike was determined to make the stubborn chit listen to what he had to say. He knew her patrol routes well enough, and catching a trace of her vanilla perfume, he headed across town to confront her.
“You’re one helluva piece of work, you know that, Summers?”
Buffy froze mid-step as Spike’s booming voice split the silence of the night. With a deep sigh she let her shoulders drop. Just fantastic, she thought, turning to face him. My night is complete.
“What the hell do you want, Spike?” she asked, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. “I told you to stay away from me.”
Spike chuckled in response, allowing his eyes to wander the length of her body. “Yeah, well, I never was one to follow the rules, luv.”
A smirk curled his lips when he noticed Buffy was unable to meet his eyes.
“We need to talk,” he said. “No, actually, I’m going to talk. You’re going to shut your gob and bloody well listen for a change.”
“Who the hell do—“
“Never took you for a coward, slayer” he said, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her, and delighting in the pissed off look on her face. That’s right, sweetheart, he thought. Not gonna let you walk all over me anymore.
“I’m not afraid of you, Spike,” she said fiercely, refusing to be intimidated by the cocky vampire. Spike had an over-confident air surrounding him tonight, as if he knew something she didn’t, and Buffy didn’t like it one bit.
“Never said you were, luv. His eyes drifted down her body and back up like a hot caress. “Truth is you’re afraid of yourself, afraid of letting me in.”
Buffy’s heart was beating frantically as she felt the truth of his words. Oh, Spike, she thought, I think it’s too late for that. Desperate to end the conversation before she let her true feelings slip to the observant vampire, Buffy summoned up as much anger as she could muster. “God, you’re deluded,” she said, turning away from him, hoping that he hadn’t heard the tremor in her voice.
Spike grabbed her roughly by the upper arm, spinning her around to face him, flinching as his chip fired. “I’m deluded?” he asked. “You’re the one who doesn’t know what the hell she wants anymore!” He loosened his grip on her arms, sliding his hands gently down to her wrists. ”You’re so damn busy living by everybody else’s rules, sweetheart, you’re denying what you really want!”
Pulling her hands from his grasp, Buffy took a step back, trying to gather her thoughts. Instantly, Spike was in front of her, cupping her cheek in his palm, drawing her eyes to his. “You feel the heat between us, Buffy, the passion, and it scares the hell out of you.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, turning from him, forcing her uncooperative body to push him away. “You’re wrong!
“Is that right, luv?” he smirked. “Then how come you’ve barred me from your house? I’ve had an invite for years, ever since the great poof and his bloody Acathla bullshit! You didn’t revoke it back when I wanted to soddin’ kill you, but as soon as I open my heart, you get Red to work her witchy mojo.” He was yelling as he walked in circles around her, gesturing wildly. “Christ, Buffy, you act as if I tied you up and bloody tortured you, when all I did was tell you, I love you!”
Disorientated and stunned into silence, Buffy wanted to argue but her words of denial lodged in her throat, unable to pass her dry lips. Spike approached her cautiously; he could see the emotions that warred behind her troubled eyes. “We could be so good together,” he said softly, “and if you weren’t so damn scared, you’d see it for yourself!” Buffy could barely form a coherent thought. Every word that came from his mouth echoed the admissions of her inner voice during the restless hours of the previous night. “Normal will never be enough for you, Buffy,” he whispered, brushing a ghost of a kiss against her lips.
The action brought Buffy out of her stupor and he found himself propelled away from her warm body. Desperation gripped her mind as she felt her armour get stripped away piece by piece.
“You’re a demon, Spike,” she said, quoting her slayer training. “Let me give you a lesson in Vampire 101.” Raising her right hand, she pointed an emphatic finger at his chest. “You, don’t have a soul. You aren’t capable of loving someone!”
Even as the words left her mouth, they felt hollow. Spike wasn’t like other vampires. He had shown repeatedly that his capacity to love was strong enough to overrule his demonic nature.
“You don’t believe that,” he said confidently. A devilish smirk stretching his lips as he cocked his head to study her. “Course if you wanna play teacher and naughty student, luv, I’m more than willing.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest when he saw the beautiful pink flush spread over Buffy’s cheeks.
“You’re a pig, Spike,” she said, with no real force behind her words.
Okay, not her wittiest retort, admittedly, but she was busy focusing her energies on ignoring the little voice that agreed with him.
“Oink, oink, sweetheart,” he replied, giving her a wolfish grin.
Buffy fought down the reactions of her traitorous body as he ran his tongue over his teeth. The look in his eyes told her he wanted to eat her alive, which for Spike, was quite possible either way.
“I’m gonna make you love me by the time this is all done and dusted,” he said, grinning and taking a step closer to the obviously shaken Slayer.
She seemed so vulnerable at that moment that he felt guilty for teasing her. Stopping mid step, Spike froze as a stake suddenly appeared before him, clasped tightly in Buffy’s hand.
“Keep talking, Spike, and I’ll show you some dust.”
God, he loved her fire. His girl never stopped surprising him. As it was, the shaking of her hand betrayed her nervousness. “Never gonna happen, pet,” he said, smiling softly. “You couldn’t kill me, anymore than I could you.” Buffy was unable to escape his powerful gaze. A shiver ran down her spine as she registered his words but still refused to accept the truth of them. “Face it, luv,” he whispered, “your life would be much less interesting without me in it.”
Looking into her eyes, he sighed deeply and took a cautious step towards her. Buffy’s arms were wrapped protectively around her stomach, her stake clasped firmly in her hand, and Spike could see that she was trembling slightly. She swallowed hard as she fought to keep her turbulent emotions under control, startling as he suddenly stood before her and placed both hands on her waist in a loose embrace.
Looking deep into her eyes, he spoke softly. “I will never give up on you, Buffy, and this is real, whether you want to believe it or not. This is real for me. I’m not like those other idiots, pet. I’m not going to walk away from you.”
Oh my God, she thought. How does he do that? How can he know me so well, when even my own friends don’t understand?
Buffy watched as he raised his left hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. Cupping her cheek, he smoothed it gently with his thumb. The pretence was suddenly too much for the Slayer to keep up. Exhaling softly, she nuzzled her face against his palm and offered no resistance as his grip tightened on her hips, pulling her into a passionate embrace. His soft lips nibbled and teased her own as his tongue begged entrance to her mouth. Grasping tightly onto the soft leather of his duster, Buffy held him to her, afraid he would disappear, despite his vow to the contrary.
Spike’s arms banded around her waist, swallowing her soft moans of pleasure, until reluctantly breaking the kiss he allowed her to breathe. Refusing to sever contact entirely, he stood before her, their foreheads touching as her heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open. Spike watched as the lustful glaze slowly cleared from her eyes, confusion and panic chasing away the blissful calm of mere moments ago.
“I can’t... I can’t do this.” She wrenched herself from his arms and turned her back to him. Buffy ignored the pained expression that crossed his face and blinked back her tears, refusing to cry in front of the bewildered vampire. “Not again... please, Spike... I can’t let myself... fall...”
“In love?” he asked quietly, careful to keep his voice low, wanting to avoid distressing her further. Spike’s undead heart clenched as she looked back over her shoulder, anguish swimming in the depths of her red-rimmed eyes that wordlessly pleaded for mercy.
Buffy swallowed hard, her eyes locked with his, and whispered the only words she could force past the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Spike.”
In a blink she was gone, a flash of blonde darting between the neglected monuments and headstones as she ran from him.
Ran from them.
Spike was torn. His inner William told him to let her go, to give her time and space to clear her thoughts. He felt terrible for being the cause of her pain, something he had long since resolved to never be again. However, Spike knew his girl. Better than anyone. Given the chance, Buffy would deny and rationalise until any progress he had made tonight would be forgotten by the light of day.
“You can’t hide from this forever, Buffy!” Spike called after her retreating form. His demon was screaming at him to follow her, determined to make the stubborn woman see sense. His decision was made for him as his superior vampire senses picked up the salty scent of her tears.
“I have to, Spike,” she whispered from across the cemetery. “I
have to.”
With a swish of his duster he set out to find her. “Buggering hell,” he said. “One way or another, that bloody woman’s gonna be the death of me!”
Spike knew she was close. The scent of her vanilla perfume permeated the air, and he heard Buffy’s heart rate suddenly increase. Navigating his way around a shattered memorial, Spike paused mid-step as the cause of its destruction became apparent. Thirty metres ahead of him was a glorious sight. Buffy was all business as she launched herself at the demon before her. Spike felt a familiar tightening in his jeans as he watched the Slayer in her natural element.
The vulnerable girl from five minutes ago was nowhere to be seen; a deadly warrior stood in her stead. Twirling in mid-air, Buffy landed a solid kick to the back of the demon’s skull, sending it staggering into a crypt. Spike almost felt sorry for it, until he got his first unobstructed view of the creature as it recovered from Buffy’s assault.
Oh, Bollocks!
Increasing his pace, he called out to Buffy just as she delivered a well placed punch to the Celtor demon’s stomach.
“Watch it Slayer! Don’t get—“
“Damn it, Spike,” she shouted furiously. “Just leave me alone!”
The momentary distraction was enough. Razor-sharp teeth flashed in the moonlight as the demon lunged for her throat. Buffy dived to the left as the creature collided with her shoulder, sending them both sprawling to the ground. A sharp pain tore through her stomach as jagged talons sliced through her soft skin. Struggling to get back to her feet, Buffy brought her knees up into the Celtor’s stomach, propelling it up and away from her.
Reaching down, Buffy pulled a dagger from her boot and clambered to her feet. She rushed at the demon and thrust the blade forward, plunging it deep into the Celtor’s abdomen. A swirl of black leather sent her crashing to the ground as liquid fire raced through her blood, and her ears filled with the sound of her thundering pulse.
Unable to think from the pain, Buffy screwed her eyes shut, unaware of being cradled by a strong pair of arms. Spike tightened his hold on her against his chest as a strangled scream tore from her throat and the darkness washed her into oblivion.
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!