Prologue
He sat on the floor amidst the ruin—the remains of what had been their latest home together. The need for the physical release of his fury had finally burnt off. Blood oozed from cuts and scrapes on his hands. He stared in fascination, having no memory of acquiring them. Maybe it had been when he’d smashed their bed to pieces? Maybe when the walls had disintegrated under his ministrations? It didn’t matter anyway, he decided, nothing much mattered at the moment.
He rested his head on one drawn up knee and went over for the thousandth time that night the reason behind his rage; her words replaying clearly in his mind.
He left her! How dare she? How could she say that to him? When it was sodding well obvious to anyone with half a brain that she’d left him! The bitch had packed her things, minions an’ all, and left Sunnydale after rambling nonsense about him leaving her for the Slayer!
He knew that killing the Slayer hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but who expected her to have friends and family fighting with her, fighting for her!? Weren’t natural, not the proper order of things at all!
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, he mused bitterly, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t gonna kill her. Just needed to try again, is all. Next time he would kill her, next time he would sink his teeth into that golden neck and drain her, feel her strength and her life gushing into him! Then he would find Dru and throw the Slayer’s lifeless body at her feet. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He would show her, dozy bint! He left her, what a load of bollocks!
He nodded to himself, satisfied at his solution, and drained the last of the bottle of Jack he’d been conversing with for the last hour. Sagging sideways to the floor and curling up in the midst of the rubble he drifted off; dreaming of blood and mayhem, of fists and fury, and of one petite warrior gleaming in the moonlight as she danced her dance of death. He licked his lips and smiled to himself as he slumbered.
He stirred the next day as the afternoon sun filtered in through the newly made windows his fists had created the night before; the scent of singed flesh filling his nostrils before the pain registered in his still sleep-dulled brain. One outflung arm rested in a pool of sunlight, smoke slowly rising from it in gently curling tendrils and he jerked it back with a curse. Bloody hell what was he doing laying here and why was the factory he’d lived in since his arrival in Sunnydale in such a bloody shambles? The fog slowly lifted and he remembered. Oh yeah, that’s right, he sighed at the recollection, Dru had left him when he’d failed to kill that damned Slayer. Memories of the previous night came flooding back. He looked around, searching for a hair of the dog but unfortunately what hadn’t poured down his throat last night was decorating the remains of the factory’s walls.
“Guess it’s time to look for new digs, Spike, old pal,” he muttered to himself. Maybe a haunted mansion or a mausoleum; something befitting a creature of the night such as himself, he reflected.
tbc
Chapter 1
What was it with this bitch? She was driving him crazy; time and time again she had foiled his plans to kill her. She’d kicked his arse more ways than he cared to admit. It was bloody ridiculous, he was the Slayer of Slayers and yet this infinitely annoying little bint just plain refused to die. It was downright embarrassing, he could hardly show his face at Willie’s without having to kill someone or another for sniggering at him behind his back. Time was he was feared, now thanks to this bitch of a Slayer he was a laughing stock!
Well, he decided, he would just have to do something about that. It was too late to leave, to find Dru and crawl back into her good graces; if he left before the bint was dead his name was history. He may as well take up saving kitties from trees and walking old ladies across the street. But, oh, how he missed his Dark Princess. How he would love to go crawling back to her and let her punish him for the bad dog that he was. Surely after nearly 3 months her temper would have cooled and she would be over whatever nonsense it was that had made her leave without him after saying those disgusting things to him!
No, he reconfirmed for the thousandth time since her departure, he would NOT go back to his Sire until he could tell her he had done it, that he had killed the fucking Slayer. For her!
Maybe it was time to admit that this was a job he was not going to be able to do on his own. After all what was the point of being a Master Vampire if you didn’t use underlings? So that’s what he would do, he’d pick up some minions and the Slayer would be a footnote in history!
*****
Spike surveyed the graveyard, from his vantage point he could see clearly the path the Slayer would take. The same one she took every night; through the gravestones, and past the first of the crypts to the grassed area near the remembrance garden. Twenty of his minions lay in wait for her; hidden amongst the bushes and behind walls, when she reached the centre of the garden they would surround her. Then she would die. He would join the fray after they had worn her down, when she was exhausted from fighting off the lesser vampires he would take her down. Not one of his finer moments, he knew that, and certainly not something he would be bragging about, but he didn’t care; the bane of his existence would cease to be and he would be free to leave Sunnyhell and return to his Sire’s side.
He didn’t have much longer to wait, as the moon broke through the cloud cover bathing the ground in its brilliant silver light the Slayer wandered into sight. Spike tensed. Would she sense his minions? If so could they still manage to take her down by mere force of numbers?
His question was answered as the Slayer stepped unaware into the trap that had been set for her. From his vantage point he watched as she spun, staking, punching and kicking with fluid grace. She took down his minions one by one. God, she was breathtaking when she fought. He didn’t often get to just watch her fight as he was usually on the receiving end of those deadly kicks and punches. No sooner did she dispatch a foe than another took its place, though, and she was starting to wear down. A malicious grin spread across his face as he anticipated her end. He could almost taste her blood pouring down his throat like nectar. The Slayer spun to face a new opponent and as she did so she stumbled, a right hook from the vampire she had just turned to face sent her flying, as she regained her feet the eight remaining minions closed on her.
“God, they’re gonna kill her”, Spike muttered to himself. Strangely instead of the immense pleasure that should have accompanied that thought there was a sick dread. Before he could process the thought he reacted; flying down towards the battle. His face changed, his fangs extending as the bumps and ridges of his demonic visage leapt to the fore. A ferocious growl sounded deep in his chest as he joined the fray. Two minions were dust before they even had the chance to realise that they were in danger.
Spinning around he took out a beefy, non-too-bright minion even as the former-footballer opened his mouth to question his actions. Spike watched from the corner of his eye as the Slayer staked another of her adversaries. He growled again, and ripped off the head of yet another as Buffy kicked a particularly tatty minion into a branch jutting from a nearby tree. The unfortunate minion exploded into dust, his end disregarded as both vampire and slayer looked around for more. In seconds two more piles of dust littered the ground. The last remaining minion turned to flee and Spike took off after her. After catching up to his fleeing minion he allowed himself the luxury of venting his frustration on her face and body; his fists and feet pounding her to the ground before he finally smashed his fist through her chest removing her heart, golden eyes glowing and a feral grin plastered across his face. Wiping his hands of her dust he turned and made his way back to the Slayer.
She was leaning against the wall of one of the gaudier mausoleums, her breath came to her in gasps as her mind reeled—trying to process what had just occurred. Buffy looked up and saw Spike coming towards her; his gameface on, looking every bit as deadly and savage as he had every time they had fought. She drew herself up prepared to fight for her life yet again. Instead she watched in fascination as he tilted his head slightly to the side, annoyance flickering across his features for a second before his face softened; the ridges and fangs melting away to reveal worry in his stunningly blue eyes.
“You ok, Slayer?” his voice was soft and gentle with concern.
“I… you…” Giving herself a mental shake the Slayer tried again, “What is going on Spike? Since when do you help me?” She was proud of how firm her voice sounded, well ok maybe there was a slight tremor, but she was sure he hadn’t picked up on that!
“Don’t rightly know, pet. Just know that I saw you out numbered like that and before I even knew what I was doing I was helping you. I’m sure it’s not something I’m gonna be making a habit of.” There was slight ripple of laughter in his voice, as he ducked his head to hide his eyes from her.
“You are ok, right?” he asked again.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Spike” she mumbled.
“What was that, Slayer?” He was openly laughing at her awkwardness now.
“I said thanks, Spike.” Looking him in the eyes she nodded her appreciation. “You probably saved my life!”
“Yeah, well, think nothing of it. And don’t go spreadin’ it around either. Don’t want the world to think I’ve gone soft. It’s unnatural, you know, me savin’ the Slayer. Don’t know what came over me!” There was a slight note of embarrassment in his voice as he spoke, which hardened as he continued, “Mind you, what the hell was that anyway? I thought you were supposed to be the Slayer. Since when do you go wandering into traps like that without so much as a tingle? Thought you were supposed to know when vampires are around. I’nt that part of the whole slayer package?” He fixed his icy blue stare on her, his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Stupid bint was gonna get herself killed if she didn’t start paying attention. Never mind that it was his plan and his trap that had almost killed her, that was irrelevant. Something had changed and for reasons he chose not to examine he knew that he no longer wanted her dead. In fact the thought of her not being in this world filled him with an anger and sadness that he could barely comprehend.
“I… Umm… I guess that’s not necessarily my strong point. I mean Giles has tried to teach me, but you know… it’s so boring,” She rolled her eyes to emphasise just how boring those lessons with her watcher were. “I prefer the kicky, punchy side of slayer training.” She found herself answering him before her brain had time to process the fact that telling her mortal enemy, even if he had just saved her life, her weak points wasn’t necessarily a good idea.
“Yeah, well maybe you should reassess that idea love. Could be the difference between life and death, or even undeath.” He fixed his gaze on her intently, one eyebrow raised and his head slightly cocked to one side. “Don’t get me wrong Slayer, you’re good. Damn, you’re the soddin’ best I’ve fought, which is probably the only reason you’re alive for us to be having this conversation. But just ‘cause you’re good doesn’t mean you can’t be better; a lazy slayer is a dead slayer, pet. Remember that! Come on, love, time you should be getting home I recon.”
“Are you offering to walk me home, Spike?” She looked at him in disbelief.
“Yeah, well, not a lot of point saving your life and then letting you waddle off home all on your lonesome when you’re still not quite a hundred percent, is there?” he snarked at her, embarrassment making his voice harsher than he had intended.
“I do not waddle,” Buffy bristled as she turned and started towards home.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Slayer. Just saying after a fight like that doesn’t hurt for you to have some company on the walk home is all.” Spike fell into step to her left, his eyes and ears peeled for any of the dangers that night-time in Sunnydale invariably brings.
The walk to Revello Drive was uneventful and silent; neither wanting to talk about the night’s events and both lost in their own tumultuous thoughts. When they reached her front yard she turned to face him a slight frown marring her face, “Well thanks again, Spike. I better get in before mom sees me.”
“You’re welcome, Slayer. Like I said, don’t go making a big deal out of it. You just take care, and mind your watcher, pet!” He raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking as awkward and keen to get this conversation over as she was.
“Night, Spike.”
tbc
CHAPTER 2
God, what was wrong with him? Why in the name of all that’s unholy did he do that? Why the fuck would he save the Slayer’s life? Especially after it was his plan that was gonna end it. His hard work had finally paid off and the Slayer was gonna be dead and he would be free to return to Dru. Spike paced around the upper level of his crypt. But did he want her dead? No, he realised, he didn’t. In fact that was the last thing he wanted! But why? Why did he care that this girl, this slight, beautiful, amazing, vibrant slayer, live?
Shit, where did that come from? The Slayer, beautiful? Well, yeah, he conceded. Course she was, an’ he knew it… he had eyes didn’t he? First time he’d seen her she was dancing; wiggling that hot little body all over the place, getting him, and probably half the male population of The Bronze, hard. But he wasn’t supposed to think about the Slayer like that. He was a vampire. He KILLED slayers, that’s what he did. Not think about how that warm, petite body would feel against his. Not care if that fire, that incredible life and vibrancy was extinguished. It was his job to do the bloody extinguishing!
He threw himself down into his chair, his head tipped back as he drew a long steadying breath. He thought about all the times he had fought her, all the times he had failed to kill her, and he wondered if deep down inside had he NOT wanted to kill her. Is that why he had failed every time? He thought about what Dru had said to him that first night he’d fought the Slayer and lost; she’d told him he had left her for the Slayer. He had, of course, thought she was off her bloody tree; accusing him of not loving her, of giving his heart to the Slayer. He remembered, also, the gut wrenching terror when he had thought the silly bint was going to die. The concern he’d felt when he came back to her and saw her leaning exhausted against the tomb. He smiled in recollection of her courage as she’d tried to muster up the strength to fight him when she thought he was coming back to finish her off. He remembered the hurt that had flickered through him when he’d realised that she thought he was going to kill her. How he’d made every effort to let her know he wasn’t gonna harm her. How the thought of letting her go off home by herself when she was clearly so exhausted that she couldn’t have fought off a fledgling had terrified him. His anger when he realised she was shirking her training and that she had nearly paid for that neglect with her life. Stupid little bint, it wasn’t fun learning how to sense vampires, well tough bloody shit! Idiot girl, maybe now she would understand that it was important? That paying attention to her training could save her stupid life.
Why was he feeling so protective of a human, a slayer? What was wrong with him? Closing his eyes, he figured the best thing he could do was get some sleep, time enough to worry about it later when he wasn’t so bloody tired. As his eyes drifted closed he saw her; her smile flashing, green eyes burning with fire. A golden vision shining in the moonlight; spinning, leaping, kicking and punching, each move flowed seamlessly into the next as she danced. God, she was beautiful when she fought. He’d loved watching her. Could’ve watched her all night, he mused. But then fighting at her side had been amazing too.
He drifted off to sleep, a tender smile playing across his face as he dreamt of running his hands through Buffy’s hair, of holding her against him, her body moulded to his. In his dream he stroked her face, feeling the fine silk of her skin beneath his fingers as they whispered delicately across her flesh. And when she told him that she loved him he kissed her softly, snuggling her closer against his body as he whispered his love to her.
He woke the next day with beautiful dreams of his slayer running through his mind. No longer fighting the truth, he admitted to himself that Dru had been right; his heart belonged to the Slayer.
*****
Buffy had slept the sleep of the truly exhausted. When she woke, bleary eyed and still not quite rested the next morning, her mind replayed the events of the previous night. Even now she was not fully able to process the fact that Spike had saved her life, and then he had walked her home afterwards! This was Spike, her number one mortal enemy, the very dangerous master vampire who had, over the last three months, made her death his mission. Not only did he save her, he had seemed genuinely concerned for her after the fight. What was that? None of it made any sense to her at all and if she allowed herself to dwell on it any longer she knew she was going to end up with the headache to end all headaches.
“Hey, Buff, what’s happening?” Xander rounded the corner near her locker, Willow following, clutching her books closely to her chest.
“Hap... Happening?” She looked hazy for a second. “Oh, nothing...”
“So you wanna hang at the Bronze tonight? Angel might be there!” Willow bubbled as Xander glared in her direction, his stock standard response to any mention of Buffy’s vampire honey.
“Huh, oh … I dunno guys, I just, ah…” Buffy’s eyes grew distant like she had forgotten they were there.
Her friends noticed she was withdrawn and when they queried her about it she told them absently that she was just tired. She was tired, so not really with the avoidy there, right?
That afternoon when she joined her watcher in the library for training she asked him if there was any way they could work on her slayer sense thingy. Giles was very enthusiastic and assured her that they would start work on it that night; he would join her for patrol, which he said would be pleasant as he had not joined her in a patrol for a while now. Yeah, pleasant, Buffy thought… goody!
Practice though she may that night her ability to tap into her slayer sense showed no marked improvement. It was not until such time as the vampires were clearly in visual range that she was able to get even so much as a tingle. By the end of the night both Buffy and Giles’ patients was wearing very thin.
“This just isn’t working, Giles,’ Buffy complained to her watcher. “I just don’t get what I am doing wrong. You make it sound like it should be easy, like I should just be able to do it and I can’t and, and… I suck.”
“Now, now, Buffy. Not all slayers have the same strengths and weaknesses. You have an amazing aptitude for weapons and the martial arts, where some slayers have had to work extremely hard in those areas. You obviously just need more practice in this particular area to enhance your innate ability.” Giles studied his charge; she certainly could be exhausting at times and was undeniably headstrong. However the girl held an enormous part of his heart, filling the void left by the family he never seemed to have found the time to have. “You really must learn not to be so hard on yourself, Buffy. You have shown some improvement tonight, be it minor, and any improvement at all is to be applauded. I am certain that given time, and continued dedication, you will master this skill as you have so many others. Why don’t we retire for the night and resume tomorrow night?”
“I guess. It’s just that it’s so frustrating. But, yeah, I am beat, so home and bed definitely sounds of the good.” They’d stopped outside his apartment complex and Buffy smiled weakly before continuing, “Thanks, Giles. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night”
“Goodnight. Sleep well and I will see you in the morning before class.”
tbc
Chapter3
He watched her patrolling with her uptight Watcher as he had every night for the last week. Why was she suddenly patrolling with him again? Had the events of that night frightened her? One small part of him felt a tingle of pride at having scared the Slayer. The rest of him, however, fought the urge to run to her and wrap her safely in his embrace, assuring her that he had her back and wouldn’t let anything hurt her, ever. He crushed the cigarette he had been smoking under his boot heel and resigned himself to continue observing from a distance as she finished her patrol with someone who was not him. “Bloody wanker,” he cursed the watcher under his breath. As if the tweed clad twerp could keep his girl as safe as he could. Well the Big Bad was there regardless, and if any trouble arose he would be at her side in seconds. Just see if he wouldn’t!
He followed along at a safe distance, where he could easily observe without detection, assuring himself that the Slayer was in no danger. That she didn’t need rescuing from the few pathetic fledglings she encountered on her nightly rounds. He loved to watch her; she was bloody amazing. She was poetry, perfection. He thrilled at her dance, rejoiced in her power, and was held captive, enchanted by her grace.
A century plus of searching for something he didn’t even know he was missing and he’d found it here in the most improbable of places. In his mortal enemy; this petite form that stood for all he had raged against for the better part of 120 years.
He had proven himself; two of her kind had died by his hand. Tens of thousands of others had poured their lifeblood down his throat and breathed their last to the sounds of his laughter. He had locked away the vestiges of the maudlin, spineless, pathetic excuse for a man that he had been. He had remade himself; at first reluctantly under his Grandsire’s none too gentle persuasion. Then later with relish; cherishing the power, the strength, and the freedom from the humiliation of his former life that the demon within him provided.
Even then he had stubbornly hung on to shreds, remnants of his lost humanity. Whether for nostalgic reasons, or simply because these small demonstrations of humanity—of life—drove Angelus to fury, he didn’t even know himself. Of course each rebellion had resulted in yet another round of thrashings, and on several occasions had very nearly brought about the younger vampire’s demise. Whatever the reason, unlike other vampires who had to remind themselves to breathe in order to pass for human, Spike, in fact, had to do the opposite; having to remind himself, when the occasion called for it, that he didn’t need to breathe. His penchant for food that his body in no way required also set him apart from others of his kind. Vampires are capable of eating, and often did in order to blend in. But that was all it ever was, a cover, a way of disguising who and what they were whilst hunting for their natural food. Spike, however, enjoyed eating. He loved the texture, the aroma, the taste; in fact he appreciated the whole sensory experience of eating.
All in all he had, after initial hesitations, thrown himself unreservedly into the hedonistic lifestyle his demon relished.
You would think, then, given his riotous existence for over a century, and given his demon’s penchant for death and destruction, in its delight and pride in his own annihilation of two slayers, that it would protest at least a little against the current turn of events. You would expect inner turmoil, revulsion, remonstration, at the very least uneasiness as the demon inside waged war against the, until recently, believed to be extinct poet inside. No such protest was forthcoming, however. His demon glowed with as much adoration for this beautiful girl as did the residue of his desperately idealistic human-self. Only an urgent disquiet at not swooping down, gathering her up into his arms and carrying her off to be his completely emanated from the fiercely rumbling demon within. It was this that Spike fought with every ounce of self control he possessed. He clamped down on his demonic nature, knowing that any such move would be foolhardy and would inevitably result in destroying any chance, however slim, he had of wooing his love and convincing her of his sincerity.
*****
Two nights later as he sought out his usual vantage point for his faithful nightly vigil, the familiar sensation tingling through his spine screamed to him that his slayer was nearby. He turned, holding his breath for the first glimpse of his girl for the night; he treasured this moment each night when she entered his domain and he would deliberately wait until his senses were filled with her before allowing his eyes to drink in the sight they had ached for all through the long and arduous hours of the day. Buffy.
Tonight, for the first time since that fateful night, she was alone. His mind reeled, she was alone! This was something that although longed for, he wasn’t ready to deal with. What to do? Every instinct in him was screaming for him to run to her side. Caution was urging him to stop, to calm down and evaluate. Desperation found him pacing backwards and forwards across the mausoleum roof, his hands automatically reaching for a cigarette and lighting it as he inhaled the calming smoke deep into his lungs. After a while his pacing took on a less frenzied measure, he drew deep calming lungsfull of air. Cursing himself for the stupid sod that he was, his eyes sought out and found the reason for his current distress. He located her halfway across the graveyard.
“Right now mate, you can do this. Just calm down you useless wanker, before you go an’ make a right prat of yourself,” Spike admonished himself before dropping effortlessly to the ground and making his way silently through the tombstones towards the girl in question. Drawing one last fortifying breath he stepped out onto the path.
“Quiet night, Slayer?” He enquired. He watched as she started before forcibly relaxing into a casual fighting stance, stake lowered but ready, waiting to see what he would do next. “Didn’t mean to startle you, love. Sorry bout that.” He kept his actions slow and unthreatening, last thing he wanted was a stake through the heart.
“You didn’t, I mean, um….what’s going on here, Spike? First you try for months to kill me, and then all of a sudden you save my life. Then nothing, I don’t see hide or hair of you for nearly two weeks. Now suddenly you’re here like you and I having conversation is a normal daily event. What is this, a new ‘confuse the slayer to death’ approach to things?” Buffy’s voice was harsh with frustration and no small amount of chagrin that he had been able to step out only paces from where she was with no warning; no spidey tingle, nothing to say hey ‘VAMPIRE’ here. She had been working so hard and getting nowhere fast. And Spike was one hell of a dangerous vampire to have sneaking up on you like this.
To Buffy’s dismay a low chuckle escaped from the platinum-haired vampire as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Missed me did you, pet?” He looked up at her, his head tilted to one side and a cheeky smile spread across his face. “Figured you wouldn’t want Big Bad interfering with your watcher time; so I let you be. An’, no, love, not tryin’ to confuse you to death. Not tryin’ to kill you in any way. Don’t ask me why, I don’t soddin know, ok. Just don’t wanna see you get yourself killed is all. Ok? So let’s just leave it at that,” he growled the last out, embarrassment stealing the previous gentleness from his voice.
Cursing himself for his loss of control he forcibly calmed his tone, “So, how come you didn’t notice me sooner, love? Thought you were gonna work on that!”
Buffy’s head shot up. Was he rubbing it in? Had he seen her and Giles trying to master the illusive skill? Was it amusing to him that she was failing miserably in something that should be an inherent part of the slayer package? She looked at his face, anticipating his usual sarcastic leer, what she encountered however, disarmed her. Open, honest, genuine concern was etched across his handsome features. Oh God, what was with her? Spike handsome? She looked at him again, well, if she was being brutally honest with herself then, yeah—way handsome! When his face wasn’t twisted with malice or sneering viciously it was unquestionably striking, especially with those eyes. With an effort she brought her mind back to the conversation at hand.
“I’ve been trying. Giles and I have been working on it every night, but it’s no use, I just don’t get it.” She pouted and huffed in frustration.
God she’s gorgeous, Spike thought for the thousandth time. He forced his mind away from that beautiful, soft bottom lip that he was just aching to taste. He fought the urge to reach out, to stroke her face and whisper reassurances to her while feathering her lips with adoring kisses. Drawing on all his strength and willpower he dragged his imagination away from the utopia of his dreams and made himself concentrate on the problem that was obviously not only endangering his beloved’s life, but was also causing her great distress.
“Don’t understand, love. What do you mean you don’t get it?”
“Just that! I try, I concentrate the way Giles has taught me, reach out and sometimes I get a tingle, a little one, but not until way after the vamp is in sight and by then its staking time and no more vamp. It useless, a waste of time and one more night of trying and I don’t know if Giles was gonna kill me or I was gonna kill him; either way it was gonna be messy!” She was miserable and her voice reflected it.
“Maybe I can help you there, Slayer,” he offered.
“You? How?” Buffy was mystified.
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Vampire, pet. Or had you forgotten?” He couldn’t help but laugh at her as she visibly started. Obviously for a few moments she had actually forgotten just that. “You can practice on me, love. But without the staking or the deals off. I’ll disappear and you can locate me. I’ll stay fairly close to start with and you can just point to where I am. When you get better at it I’ll move out a bit further. How’s that sound?”
“Wow, I never thought of that. This could work, Spike!” She tilted her head to one side in a gesture reminiscent of the vampire’s earlier action. “Why though, Spike? I don’t get it. Why are you helping me?”
“Told you, love, don’t rightly know. Jjust know that I don’t want to see any harm coming to you, is all. Don’t tell me it doesn’t make any sense, I bloody well know that. But it doesn’t matter, Buffy, I’ll be here. You need help? I’m here. You need someone to watch your back? Well, I’m your someone. Right now this is somethin’ I can help you with. So how bout we stop yakkin’ and get on with it? Cause at this rate the bloody sun’s gonna be up before we get anythin’ done.” Turning he disappeared into the shadows, melting away as only a true creature of the night could.
Buffy drew a deep breath, trying to absorb the tirade Spike had just thrown her way. Nothing about the situation was even close to being within the realms of comprehension, as such she came to the conclusion it was far simpler to not try to comprehend and just do as the vampire had suggested and get on with it. Closing her eyes she quieted her mind the way Giles had taught her; reaching out she searched. After what seemed like forever; when she was almost at the point of giving up and resorting to another much warranted bout of sulking, she felt a slight tingle at the edge of her senses. Concentrating harder she felt it grow steadier, more definite. Slowly she raised her hand and pointed in what she was reasonably sure was the direction the vampire was in.
“Well done, love.” Spike stepped into sight grinning approvingly at her. “Want to try that again?”
At her enthusiastic nod he melted into the night again and found a new hiding place. They continued in this vein for the next couple of hours; each success coming faster than the one before. Every beaming smile and enthusiastic word of encouragement from him boosting her confidence and lifting the enormous ball of self doubt that had settled in her gut over the last few weeks of failure.
By the end of the night they had completed the patrol, Spike watching appreciatively as she performed her chosen duty; dusting the few vampires they came across with ease and a slight flicker of impatience as they interrupted the lesson she was finding, to her amazement, that she was thoroughly enjoying. Her improvement over the course of the night was infinitely satisfying to both student and teacher and the delight in her eyes was more reward than Spike could ever have hoped for. When they parted as she turned for home, it was on his promise to see her again the next night for patrol.
Over the ensuing weeks Spike would appear at her side for patrol whenever she patrolled alone. On the occasions she had company; her friends, her watcher or sometimes, much to his utter disgust, his hated Grandsire, he would watch over her from a distance. Sometimes keeping enough distance that he knew she couldn’t sense him, other times allowing her to know that he was there watching her back as he had told her he would. He would see her smile to herself and look in his direction, letting him know that she knew he was there. They never spoke about the times he watched over her, neither of them caring to question the friendship that was growing so easily between them.
When they patrolled together they would talk about all manner of things then slip into quiet, comfortable silences as they walked side by side through Sunnydale’s numerous graveyards. At his suggestion they varied the patrol, no longer sticking to Buffy’s predictable routine after he quietly pointed out the dangers of the habit to her. Spike was true to his word, covering Buffy’s back when she needed it; always there to make sure no harm befell her. However in most cases his assistance was not required and he loved to lean back against a gravestone and watch her, she was bloody beautiful when she fought; a sight he could never get enough of.
Eventually, as trust grew between them, they began to spar some nights. Those nights were his favourites. If watching Buffy fight was amazing, fighting against her was heaven. They both loved it, Buffy loved the experience of not having to hold back; sparring with Spike was fun! She could be herself in a way she couldn’t with her watcher, not unless she wanted to break him, and she couldn’t with Angel because he insisted on practicing higher forms of the art. The slow precise movements he insisted she learn were designed to improve balance and concentration, and as far as Buffy was concerned they were boring and tedious. and When she had once dared to voice her opinion he had sat her down and explained to her in length the importance of learning this skill, and the reason why common sparring was beneath her dignity as a warrior. Well it may be beneath her, but god it was fun. And Spike taught her a few things that… well she couldn’t imagine either her watcher or her boyfriend would ever teach her such dirty tactics.
tbc
CHAPTER 4
Buffy was bubbling with excitement as she made her way through the early evening streets to Angel’s apartment. It was Friday night and Giles was so pleased with her progress, especially her improvement with her slayer sensey thing, that he had given her the go ahead to take a night off and just enjoy herself for a change. She thought of all the wonderful non-slayery ways she and her paramour could spend the evening; there was the movies—always good, or the Bronze for a night of dancing and smoochies, or maybe a nice dinner and then dancing or a movie. She decided it really didn’t matter; all that mattered was that she was finally getting a night off to spend with Angel on a proper date. The kind normal girls, who didn’t have to save the world from evil every night, got to have. She had dressed in a new pair of soft, pastel pink leather pants and a cute pink and black leopard print halter top, new black ankle boots and Angel’s gorgeous black leather jacket. She had done her hair up in a loose bun and left a soft fringe framing face. She thought—well she hoped—she looked good!
Upon reaching Angel’s apartment she knocked. He opened the door wearing black pants and no shirt.
“Buffy! I didn’t expect you. Hang on a second.” Angel turned and fished a shirt off the couch, pulling it on he opened the door wider inviting her to enter. “What’s wrong?” he enquired.
“Wrong? Oh … nothing, nothing at all.” Buffy flashed her brightest smile. “I have the night off, a whole night, no patrol, no training. Just fun, fun, fun!” She was practically jumping up and down with glee. “So the night is ours to do as we please!”
Angel frowned. “Why would Giles do that? You’re the slayer, Buffy, you don’t get nights off! If you take a night off people die. You have responsibilities, a sacred duty what could possibly be more important than that?”
“I know I am the slayer. Angel. God, do you think I don’t know? I thought you’d be happy. We could go out on a date … you know that thing people do? Boy, girl, maybe dancing, maybe movie, fun had by all concerned. You do remember dating don’t you? It’s what normal boyfriend and girlfriends do, and colour me stupid but I actually thought we were supposed to be a couple.” She couldn’t believe he was reacting the way he was, she had been so happy, so excited at the prospect of a romantic evening for two without world savey issues entering into the mix and here he was shooting her down and making her feel selfish and immature into the bargain. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, or that she wanted someone to die, of course she didn’t. But things had been so quiet lately, no major activity of the evil kind so what was the harm in her taking one night off? One night to be a girl and not the Slayer.
“We are a couple Buffy, but there’s no use trying to pretend we are a normal couple. We aren’t a normal anything, you are the Slayer and I am a vampire, that’s about as far from normal as you can get. We don’t get to do normal couple things, Buffy, you know that. That would be irresponsible and selfish.” He couldn’t understand why she was having such a problem understanding this. She was the Chosen One, the pinnacle of all things good; surely she could see that it was wrong of her to even contemplate taking a night off for something as self-serving as a date? He would make her understand, make her see reason. She was meant to be the epitome of virtue that was why he cherished her so much. She was everything he aspired to, everything he was not and could only endeavour to become. “Buffy, people need you, they rely on you to keep them safe, even if they don’t realise it.”
“One night Angel, that’s all, it’s not like I am going on strike or saying ‘to hell with it let people die’. I just wanted one night for us to go out and have some fun, to do the things other girls my age get to do. To have some quality time with my boyfriend, and seeing as you are the boyfriend in question I thought you’d be all on the ‘happy train’ with me. Besides, you know, Giles gave me the night off and he is my watcher. He seems to think it’s ok for me to have one night once every millennium or so to have some fun. What is with you?” Buffy felt drained, she had gone from happy to pissed off, to miserable and back to pissed off in a matter of moments and her mind was spinning from trying to keep up.
“Yeah, well maybe Giles needs to rethink some things. I mean, as far as watcher’s go he isn’t exactly the most impartial is he? We both know he lets you off easy. He doesn’t make you train as hard as he should, lets you get away with not studying your demon lore. And he certainly doesn’t train you by the guidelines set out in the slayer’s handbook. Giles is a pushover as far as you are concerned, and if you ask my opinion you take advantage of that fact on a far too regular basis.” He was starting to get angry with her, she wasn’t listening. She wouldn’t see that what he was telling her was right. She needed to realise that he had only her best interests at heart, he loved her and wanted what was right for her; surely she could see that he knew what was best for her?
Her mouth dropped open, she could not believe that she was hearing what she actually was hearing. “How dare you? How could you speak to like that? I do train hard. In fact it is because I have been training hard, and Giles is really pleased with my progress, that he gave me the night off! But what would you know? You wouldn’t know that my martial arts are improving daily, that I finally got my spidey sense thing working properly, that my weapons skills are, according to Giles, ‘superlative’. The only thing you know is how to do your stupid Nancy boy Tai Chi and spout on at me about my sacred duty and how I am above doing things that my friends do or that other girls my age do. Well you know what? I am sick of being lectured and judged by you, I am sick of trying to please you, and I don’t know why it even occurred to me that you might be happy to have one night for us?” With this she turned and fled Angel’s apartment, heedless of his voice calling for her to stop, to wait and they could talk this through some more. Tearing out into the night she ran, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the vampire she was currently fighting every urge not to stake.
Angel stumbled around his room, pulling on shoes so he could follow her. He had to make her understand; make her listen. By the time he had located his shoes and put them on the Slayer had a good head start on him. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting so irrationally? And ‘Nancy boy’? What was with that? Surely that was not a term his girl would use. Suspicion and doubt gnawed at him as he made his way through the streets of Sunnydale on the hunt for one small blonde girl in a town full of teenagers who’d been turned out onto the streets for the obligatory Friday ‘date night’ ritual.
tbc
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