When
he was bad
By Gilly Bean
Disclaimer: If I owned em, don't you think I would do more with Spike then
write about him?
Feedback: Yes, pretty, pretty please, with chocolate covered Spike on top?
Distribution: You want, you ask, I give. You want, you take, I get pissy.
Sp Notes: Its set just about anywhere in season 2 prior to the whole organ
dropping mess.
The long black duster whipped around his legs, and then billowed out behind
him. The clouds in the sky momentarily broke, revealing the large white full
moon. The clearing lit up brighter for just a moment. The light played
across his sculpted cheekbones, and brought light to his eyes.
Hanging in his deceptively loose hand was a gleaming silver sword. The tip
was resting on the dirt at his feet. His black boots were spaced a foot or
so apart, and his muscular legs were incased in tight black jeans. The
creature's stance spoke of being relaxed, but his opponent new otherwise.
His face was pale, the skin stretched tight against his body. Piercing blue
eyes stared coldly out, daring someone to take him on. The eyes were the
part to watch on him. If she looked at them long enough, she could
anticipate his move before he made it.
Spike stepped forward one step, and the sword dragged a thin line against
the ground. His face came into the moonlight, and a sardonic smile curved
against his lips, making his face appear more sinister, deadly.
Buffy watched him, and took a step forward. In her own hand, another sword
hung. It was a much shorter, lighter version of Spike's, but just as deadly,
nonetheless. Her legs were stanced apart nearly a foot, and her right foot
was slightly behind her left. The defensive stance she took had her knees
bent just slightly, to give her an added bounce when the moment came.
Her hazel eyes took in his blue ones, and she nearly shivered from the cold
death his eyes projected towards her. He stopped moving, and stood still
now, squared off in front of her, ready to do battle with her. The hand
holding the sword dragged it through the dirt, creating an eerie grating
sound to sing with the howling wind.
She held her body tight, and proud. She had been taught many aspects of
fighting, the sword just being one of many weapons she was proficient at.
She eyed him, then moved her gaze quickly to the sword he was dragging, then
back up to his eyes.
She saw it then, the glint that warned her a split second before his relaxed
pose sprung at her, raising the sword up quickly before bringing it down
towards her. Her sword got up to fend it off, barely in time. The clash of
the metal rang piercingly in the night.
The chilly fall air howled all around them, sending leaves to dance in a
furious tempo at their feet. Again Spike brought the metal down, and again,
Buffy was able to meet it with her own sword. The high metallic clanging
rang through the deserted park.
Spike came at her mercilessly, eager to see the end of his third slayer. She
had been the strongest yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He
noticed a pattern suddenly, and the smile on his lips quickly became a
smirk. She was blocking deftly to the right, but it was becoming slower work
to block on the left.
Without warning, Spike started to swing his sword down, towards her right,
then he flipped it slightly, caught it with his left hand, and came slashing
in towards her exposed left side.
Spike sneered when he was rewarded with the sound of her fear, and the
aphrodisiac scent of her blood being spilled onto his blade. He came in
closer, and picked his blade up.
Buffy winced at the ct, and her right hand went immediately to feel for
damage. She came back with red fingers, and looked at Spike with a growl.
She watched quietly as he brought his blade up to his mouth, and slowly
licked the blood from it, his eyes never leaving hers.
Just as he had slowly done that, he quickly brought the sword from his
mouth, and started in on her again. Her sword met his with a singing kiss,
and he pressed into her. The sword was brought down further, causing her to
stumble back just slightly.
Buffy felt his weight pressing down onto the sword, and she suddenly
buckled, then rolled quickly to the side. As he came down, she was jumping
up. Buffy dropped the sword, and came at him with her fists.
"Come on, Spikey, put the sword down, and let's get dirty." Her voice was
low, gravely sounding to him, as though she had a sore throat. He tossed the
sword out to the side, and looked at her.
"Let's dance, slayer."
She caught him across the cheek with a flying fist, but he didn't stagger or
fall, but rather smiled at the punch. Blood dripped slowly from his jaw, and
he brought a finger up to wipe it off.
His fists were flying then, and they met each other hit for hit, hurting
each other, but never getting the edge. Soon, however, she started to tire,
and her fists were looser, not so tightly swung or held.
He went at her mercilessly, pounding down on her until he got her where he
wanted her, down on the ground with her fists protecting her face. Spike
straddled her hips, despite her attempts to buck him off.
Her breathing was raspy, and she was getting light headed. Spike pulled a
wicked looking dagger from a sheath attached to his belt, and smiled at her
as the moonlight glinted off of the serrated blade.
A/N: Again, many thanks for all the feedback I've been getting. It really
encourages me to keep going with these. I wanted to let my readers know that I
haven't forgotten my other stories (specifically New Kid and Itch). I plan to
finish them off very soon, but have a major writer's block when I open it to
continue. Thanks Guys (
Part 4
Buffy sat up straight, panting deeply. Her fevered eyes shone brightly in the
dull moon lit room. She scanned the room, looking for the sound that woke her,
but she saw nothing at first. Taking in a deep slow breath, she slowed her
heavily beating heart.
She had been dreaming, reliving the fight with Spike. Her ragged breathing
finally sounded more normal, and Buffy quickly stood to go to the bathroom and
grab some water.
"Buffy, you can't keep ignoring me. Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!"
Angel sat on the edge of the bed as Buffy went out the door. Growling, he vamped
without even realizing it, and started to pace around the room. He knew
something was going on, but he was having a hard time figuring out what it was.
Buffy came back to the room, and quietly lay down. Her eyes were still scanning
the room, unsure of what might jump out at her in the dark. Finally, she gave
up, and turned her small bedside lamp on.
Angel kept talking, and was growing more and more frustrated at the lack of
response he was getting from Buffy. After several more minutes, he came around
to her side of the bed, and kneeled down. He looked directly into her face, and
was surprised at how glazed over her eyes were.
"Spike." he said to himself. Spike and Drusilla, he thought.
*****
Willow, Xander, and Giles were busy talking the next morning, worried over the
alienation Buffy had started. A few nights before, she had come in, and tried
hiding that she had been attacked. All 3 of them were concerned for her, and
tried talking to her about it, but Buffy had grown violent, cursing at them, and
telling them it was all an accident. She ended the conversation by running out
of the school.
Angel had also been there, and had tried to comfort Buffy, but after she
initially saw him, it was almost like he wasn't there. She had been ignoring him
ever since.
"Oh come on, guys, like evil dead jr. didn't have anything to do with this? How
bout looney tunes? She could very well have put a spell on her. Something isn't
right. She won't even talk to us! Come on, how am I gonna get a date if she
won't say anything?"
Willow shot Xander a weird look, and he just shrugged. They had decided they
needed to get a hold of Angel, and see what he thought of the whole mess.
"Do you think he would actually know anything though?" Willow asked Giles.
"Well, he is close to Spike, or, rather, as, so it doesn't hurt to ask. We'll
just have to find him, first."
*****
Spike sat up in the bed he shared with Dru. She had a very pleased and content
smile on her face, though his wasn't showing either emotion. In fact, his face
was curiously devoid of emotion, just stoic.
He planned to go tonight and enjoy his tasty morsel. Buffy had grown edgy in the
last few days, he has seen. She was getting delusional, and Spike eagerly looked
forward to messing with her some more.
When Dru woke up, Spike was busy lacing his boots up." Spike, where are you
going, my sweet?"
"Need to eat, pet, don't worry, I'll be back soon. For now, I need you to do
something. Do you remember the game we've been playing with the Slayer?"
Dru's eyes darkened, and she smiled. "Do you want me to play with her some
more?"
Spike nodded, then turned towards her, and rewarded her with a sexy little wink.
"Drusilla, I need you to make her think that I'm Angelus, and that she loves
him. Make her come to me, and make her ask to be bitten."
"He's been a very bad daddy." Her voice sounded different, and a quick look at
her confirmed that she was off in her own world again.
"Just do it, Dru, alright?"
Drusilla's eyes cleared, and she focused on Spike, and then nodded to him. "Of
course."
*****
Buffy walked slowly through the graveyard, a stake in her hand, and a few more
tucked into some rather interesting places. She wore all her safety
paraphernalia. Around her neck was a tight choker with silver crosses sewn on to
it all the way around. She also wore her standard cross necklace.
On her ears were stud earrings, also silver crosses. She wore on her wrists
bracelets with crosses on them, and she had on the heavy duty, take no shit, ass
kicking boots. She was prepared for anything, but hoped nothing would happen,
because she felt very insecure, regardless of the precautions she was taking.
She stomped through the mushy ground, and looked all around. Her eyes were
'peeled' so to speak, but nothing was showing up. Just as she was ready to turn
and go, she felt it; that familiar tingling at the back of her neck.
Turning, she was only mildly surprised to see Angel leaning calmly against the
side of a large crypt. He pushed off and came over to her slowly; his steps even
and sure as his dark eyes took in her light ones.
"Angel" Buffy said softly.
"Buffy" Angel said in response.
"What. . . What do you want?"
"I wanted to know if you were feeling better, of course. Are you?"
Angel's eyes looked straight into hers, making her slightly uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I am. Listen, Angel. . . About the other night, I'm sorry about the bite.
I didn't want it to happen, and I DID try to fight it off. I just want you to
know how sorry I am." She came closer to him, and as she walked, her fingers
were nimbly slipping the offending jewelry off.
Buffy stepped up to him finally, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her hair
slipped to the side of her neck, and as she closed her eyes, Buffy offered up
her neck to Angel, the side that wasn't marred by any scars.
Angel's lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in, game face in place. His mouth
opened, and his fangs sank quickly and deeply into Buffy's throat.
***TBC
Chapter 5
Buffy gasped at the intrusion of fangs into her neck. The cold mouth that
settled over the bite was unfamiliar, and she wondered why it didn't feel like
Angel. As her warm blood poured out of the wound, she felt herself growing
dizzy, and her legs growing weak.
Buffy started to relax in his arms, and Spike made certain to hold her up to his
body. The blood that pooled down his throat was the purest of wine's, the most
sought after of any of them. It was like liquor to him, drugging him under its
influence.
"Buffy!" A loud voice shouted out in warning. Spike growled, and dropped the
slayer at his feet, then turned to see Angel coming at him, stake raised in his
hand. Spike's eyes gleamed as he sinisterly wiped the blood from his mouth with
the back of his hand. With a quick turn he jumped across Buffy's body, and
disappeared into the night.
On the ground, Buffy moaned softly and brought her hand to her neck. Her eyes
flittered open slightly, and she smiled when her vision filled with Angel's warm
brown eyes. Her eyes flitted shut again, and Angel could tell she was struggling
against sleep. He knew the affect a bite could have on victims could lead to
exhaustion after a while.
Looking around, Angel was glad he didn't see Spike anywhere, for if he had, he
knew he wouldn't hesitate even a moment to stake his wayward childe. He noticed
the small pile of the slayer's paraphernalia lying not to far away, and he
growled deep in his gut. He wondered just how it was that Spike was able to get
Buffy to remove it, and wondered if Dru had anything at all to do with this.
**********
Spike stalked more prey that night, viciously tearing his victims apart with his
claws and fangs. Blood dripped down his pearly marble skin; the comparison of
the two was stark and morbid. His shirt was drenched in the sweet blood of the
dying virgin who lay at his feet. A wicked smile curled on his blood red lips as
he watched her take her last breath, a hitching wheeze of a sound.
These were the kind of nights he used to have with Angelus, before soul boy went
and got to be a pantywaist on him. Angelus had been his sire, his beloved
teacher. Sure, it wasn't all daisies, but that was part of the attraction of the
sire/childe bond they held. He had said just weeks ago that Angelus was his yoda,
and it was true, and that bugged the hell out of him.
How he could ever claim to have once been the powerful and fearsome Angelus was
ridiculous. Angel was nothing at all like Angelus, and Spike had a feeling it
had little to do with the soul. He yearned to see Angelus back just as much as
Drusilla did, though for different reasons. He wanted to be the selfish childe
for once, and consume all of his sire's time, energy, and love.
And if he had to go through that little bitch of a slayer to anger him enough to
bring Angelus out, he would. It was just a bit of a side perk that she had the
sweetest tasting blood he had known of yet. Even still, hours after the bite, he
could feel the sweet ambrosia in his system, and he yearned for more to fill
him.
He looked at the corpse at his feet, and smirked as he stepped across her, eager
to search out his newest victim. A plan was already formulating in his head, and
he was thinking of just how to make it work. Enter, Drusilla, he thought with a
wicked laugh.
**********
Angel lay Buffy down on the bed. Behind him, Willow was quickly darting around,
fluffing the pillow, grabbing a glass of water, and opening the first-aid kit
Buffy kept in her bedroom. Joyce was out of town for the week, so that was a
small blessing, but they needed to get her patched fast, or she would end up
making a visit to the ER yet tonight.
The bite on her neck was different then the old scar. It was more narrow, the
points smaller. Angel was angry as he stared at it. He barely contained his
anger, both at himself, and at Spike. Willow came up with the bandages, and
jumped back quickly when a vamped out Angel turned and growled at her without
thinking.
Seeing it was Willow, Angel fought control, and regained his human features. He
looked upset, and before he could say anything, Willow just laid a hand on his
arm and nodded her understanding. She quickly cleaned the bite, and placed a
thick white bandage over the wound.
"I don't understand, Angel. she had a ton of crosses on when she left. She even
went and got a choker and sewed crucifixes all over that thing. He should never
have been able to get to her neck!" Willow looked at Angel, a deep amount of
questioning in her eyes.
"She took it all off. It was in a pile a foot or two away. I think our answer
lies in Drusilla. She has quite a bit of mind control at her disposal. Its
possible Buffy didn't even know what was going on."
Willow nodded, then turned back to her friend. Climbing into bed beside Buffy,
she sat staring down at her, and then looked back at Angel. "Can we stop her?"
Angel took in a deep breath, not knowing how to answer that question. He knew
Angelus could have stopped her, but he was gone, long buried. But was he? Angel
asked him self. He had struggled to get out all night, had struggled against the
warm scent of Buffy's blood, the violence, and the knowledge that his childe
dare touch what was his.
Buffy may have belonged to Angel, but Angelus would defend her as his, whether
he wanted her for himself, or not. She was his, both demon and soul, and he was
calling for blood at because of the bite. Spike's ass would be his, and it would
be his soon.
**********
The clouds rolled soundlessly across the wide expanse of midnight blue; a large
white orb hung suspended in the distance. Buffy looked up at the perfect night
as she lie on the dew covered grass. Her arms were stretched out to the sides,
her legs parted slightly, as though she were in the middle of making a snow
angel. Her face looked serene, a gentle peace hung about her.
She started to hum a song from the cartoon Anastasia, and swayed her head back
and forth ever so slightly.
Dancing bears, Painted wings, Things I almost remember, And a song someone sings
Once upon a December.
Buffy opened her eyes and stared with glassy empty eyes up at the moon. She
stopped humming for a moment, then started to sing softly.
Someone holds me safe and warm, Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures
dancing gracefully Across my memory.
Her voice trailed off, and she slowly stopped swaying before her eyes drifted
shut.
**********
Angel and Willow stared at Buffy, then looked to each other. They had no idea
what to make of the singing, or the fact that Buffy apparently neither heard nor
saw either of them. The sinking feeling was growing in the pit of Angel's
stomach. He knew what was happening. Hell, he had perfected it as Angelus, and
the end product was the mad hatter herself, Drusilla.
6
Spike came up the stairs of the factory, his blood soaked hand dragging along
the rail behind him. Drusilla was seated at a long table down below, her
precious dolls sitting in front of her. His black goddess, she was. Spike
sneered at a minion as he walked by, and laughed out loud when said minion
turned tail and ran from him.
He cut quite the site, though, blood dripping down his neck, dried in places and
wet in others. His duster was covered in the same rich red blood, and it dripped
down the jacket to his hands. Little pools of blood had gathered at his feet
while he stood still, his careful eyes taking in Drusilla.
Drusilla sensed his presence, and looked up at him. Her lips curved into a small
smile, an almost secretive look to it. "My Spike's home, Miss Edith. He had a
tasty treat, and didn't bring mummy anything to eat." Her smile turned downward,
becoming a frown. "He's been to see the nasty slayer, Miss Edith."
Spike's expression turned from a sneer to a smirk, and he walked slowly down the
last remaining stairs, and stopped in front of her. "I can feel her in me, pet.
Her life's blood coursing through me. It's so powerful and lovely, my ripe
wicked plum." His voice came out in a drawl, caressing the words quietly as he
spoke them. His voice poured over the words like rich velvet, hugging itself to
each word.
**********
Buffy was sitting up in bed with Willow at her side trying to get her to eat.
Her eyes were so glazed over, so unfocused. Willow kept having to nudge her lips
with the spoon filled with chicken broth. Buffy would open her mouth, and
swallow, but she didn't appear to even notice she was doing it.
Willow was getting worried. Buffy kept moaning in her sleep for Angel, but when
Angel was near her, she acted like she didn't see him. One time earlier in the
night, she had stared right at him, and asked for Angel to come visit her
because she missed him so much.
Angel had tried to hide his hurt, but Willow had seen it, and could almost feel
it. Buffy would at least talk to Willow, though she had a feeling Buffy didn't
know who she was talking with.
They had not gotten any details on the attack; Buffy just blanked out when she
was asked about it. Angel had gone home about an hour ago, just before the sun
was starting to come up. Willow sighed as she stared at her friend. She wanted
their old Buffy back, not this shell, this shadow.
"Mama? Can I go to the park today? I want to play. It's been so dreadfully long
since I've been out to play. All my friends have most likely left me." Buffy's
voice came out sounding so childlike, so young. Willow looked at her for a
moment, then nodded her head, unsure of what else she could do.
"Of course, Buffy." Willow's voice was soft, and it came out sounding as thought
the owner was close to tears, and she was. Willow felt the tears prickling at
her sin, and brought her hand up to wipe the small spots of wetness away.
********** Drusilla sat Miss Edith down, and tightened the small blindfold on
her unseeing eyes. He wants her. Drusilla started at the sound of the voice,
then sat back and closed her eyes. The nasty slayer, he wants her. He's ready to
give up on his wicked girl all for the slayer. Are you going to let him do that?
"No, I'm not." her voice mumbled as she stared off into space. You've already
helped him, though, and now he has a taste for her blood, but it's not enough.
He wants more. Are you going to keep helping him? "I didn't know!"
*********
Spike came out of the bedroom, freshly showered and clean, and came into the
living room in time to see Drusilla drifting off into one of her dreams. The
stars, my bloody arse, he thought.
He heard her mumbling to herself, and walked in front of her. Spike snapped his
fingers, and she focused her eyes. "Just what are the stars telling you this
time, pet?" He stared at her with an impatient look that edged into his voice as
well. He forced himself to regain some patience. If I can't bloody well deal
with Dru, how am I supposed to deal with the slayer? He thought to himself, as
he looked into Dru's crazed eyes.
"You want the nasty slayer." Her voice was high, bordering on hysterical as she
threw the accusation out at him. Her tiny unsteady hand came flying out to smack
against his chest, and he could feel her nails sinking into his undead flesh.
"Well, yeah! What of it?" Spike shot her a look of mild annoyance. He was tired,
and didn't want to have this conversation tonight, especially if it was induced
by the bloody stars.
"The stars are angry at me! They say I helped you to want that nasty slayer!
They don't want that nasty slayer to take my place!" Drusilla stared blankly up
at the stars, and moaned softly. "They are so very angry at me." Drusilla
trailed off, leaving the statement off in a bare whisper.
"Ducks, what are you blathering on about? I want the slayer, yeah, I want to
bathe in her blood!" Drusilla moaned softly again and rocked back and forth. Her
thin arms wound around her frail body, eagerly trying to put some warmth into
her limbs.
"Noooo. you want her in your arms. you want her heart to beat for you. I want
her blood!" Her voice was shrill as she talked to Spike. He looked at her, and
growled softly.
"That's neither here nor there, pet. I will bathe in her blood, and you shall
taste her on your tongue as I have." Before she could say anything more, he
turned, and with a swirl of his duster, he was gone from the room.
*********
Buffy woke from her nap, and smiled at Willow. She stretched with a yawn, and
sat up on the bed. "Wow, how long have I been out? I feel like I've been asleep
for days! Wills? What's with the look?" Willow stared at Buffy as she talked,
and couldn't help but wonder at how she had salvaged her senses. She sounded
normal, she was acting normal. It was all rather normal, which threw Willow for
a loop.
"Buff. you've been in bed for almost an entire day. Are you feeling better?
Cause, you weren't really yourself for a couple of hours." Willow said softly,
her face held in a confused frown.
"I was? Willow, what happened? I don't really remember much of anything past.
past. I went on patrol and saw Angel. When was that, Willow?" Her eyes reached
Willow's, and she searched them for the answer.
"Buffy, that was last night. It's been almost 24 hours. You remember Angel
rescuing you? That's good, cause we thought you wouldn't." Buffy grimaced, and
shook her head as Willow's words pierced her psyche. How was that? She didn't
recall anything that happened where she needed to be saved.
"He found me, and I apologized to him, and I remember being tired. He bit me, I
think." Buffy's hand went to her neck, and she struggled for breath when her
fingers stopped at the bandage that was secured to a tender spot on her neck.
"Did Angel- did he bite me? What did he rescue me from? I don't remember!"
"Buffy, it wasn't Angel who bit you. It was Spike. We think he's been having
Drusilla play with your mind. You don't remember Spike?" At her soft question,
Buffy shook her head.
"I want Angel. Where is he?" Buffy asked of Willow, trying hard to will her
voice to stay steady, and not to jump at the nervousness she felt so deeply.
"He's been a bit upset. I finally sent him home early this morning. He really
wasn't doing to good, Buffy. It's almost sun down though, so he'll probably be
back soon. Speaking of which, your mom called. She'll be in L.A. for 3 more days
yet." Willow looked down at Buffy as she talked.
"Wait, Angel's upset? Are you sure he wasn't the one who bit me? I remember
talking to him, and looking at his eyes, but I was so tired." Buffy yawned once
more while looking towards Willow. Her eyes pleaded with Willow, silently asking
her to confirm that it had indeed been Angel who feasted upon her neck.
Willow saw the questioning look in her best friends eyes, but found she couldn't
give the answer that Buffy so desperately needed.
Chapter 7
Dropping down to a low crouch, he sniffed the ground for a moment, before growling low in his chest. He glanced around the yard, but saw nothing, sensed nothing. Finally, he made his way to the tree, and swiftly climbed upward.
The window slid open easily from the outside, and the thin curtains fluttered at the window that breezed through the room. A dark figure crept silently into the room, and quietly closed the window again behind him. He turned his dark eyes to the girl on the bed, and sighed softly.
She looked more peaceful now, and her sleep was no longer marred by nightmares. Angel sat down in the ever present chair next to her bed, and prepared to wait out the night shift. Buffy had been released days ago from the grips of the enchanting spell cast upon her, but they had insisted someone be with her at all times, and that she stop patrolling until they figured out what Spike and Drusilla were up to.
Angel had taken to spying on the two as often as possible, while spending part of each night sitting in a chair next to Buffy. He had witnessed several fights between the two impetuous lovers, but had no proof that Drusilla was behind the odd behavior Buffy had shown recently.
The sound of her heartbeat filled his head, and he could hear the gentle rise and fall of her chest as he watched her carefully. Soon he would be leaving again, gone for another night. Buffy’s mother would be home in the morning, and she would not want to find him there. As far as Angel knew, Buffy had told her nothing at all about Angel, except that he was her tutor.
His eyes went back and forth towards the window, his head cocking to the side every few minutes, as though to listen for something that wasn’t there. He waited and started to bide his time, as he knew it was only a matter of time before Spike would show up again.
***
Spike came slowly up the street, his measured steps sure and silent. Behind him, the wind blew his coat out all around. Slowly, he took a drag on the cigarette dangling from his mouth, causing a bright orange flare at the tip, before he dropped it to the ground, and stepped on the tip.
Up ahead, he could see her house, complete with flowers planted in the front. How very predictable, he thought. Who would have thought that a slayer would be so very normal. She certainly was different then the other two he had come up against in his history.
He came to a stop at a tree near the side of her yard, and looked intently in all the windows. They were dark, but he could tell which were and were not bedroom windows. Finally, his eyes came to rest on a window that he was sure was hers.
Leaning his lanky frame against the tree, he settled in to wait. He had found out that her mother didn’t know who her own daughter was, and it was a common joke among his kind that she had to sneak out.
In the past few days, she had been out of commission for patrolling, but Spike had been waiting, none the less. He had come out here for a bit each night, eager to catch her as she came out of her home, but as of yet, had nothing but a pile of cigarette butts to show for it.
He lit another smoke, and watched what he had come to believe as Buffy’s room. Something felt different, and he was hoping it was because she would be making her appearance that night.
***
It was small, almost unhearable over the thump of Buffy’s heart. A quiet metallic click. A soft whoosh of a lighter igniting. Scowling as he glanced towards the window, Angel moved cautiously towards it to look out. His body was quiet as he stepped in behind the gauzy curtains. Angel knew that if he got to close, and Spike was watching, he would see Angel.
As he looked down, Angel indeed saw Spike near the tree, though his eyes were quickly perusing the rest of the windows on the side of the house. Before he had a chance to look back up, Angel stepped backwards, and went to Buffy’s side. He leaned down, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and moved to her weapons chest.
Inside of it, he avoided certain items, but when he came to a stash of freshly carved stakes, he grabbed three of them out, and tucked them into his long coat. With a brief glance back towards Buffy, he left her room using her door, and slipped down to her mothers room. From there, he exited the room with her window, and came out on the opposite side of the house from where Spike waited.
Keeping his body hugged tight to the shadows, Angel came around the front, but his body was hidden from view by the front porch. He crept silently until his head poked quickly from the side. He could smell the odor of Spike’s cigarette, and could see the flare of the orange tip. As he watched, Spike’s head turned sharply to the side, to stare right at him. Standing up straight, Angel looked at Spike for a moment, before he launched himself at his wayward childe.
Spike had no time to react as Angel’s body hit his own with a strong force. As Spike tumbled backwards on to the ground, Angel straddled his body, pulling a stake out as he went.
“What’s the matter, Angel? Your precious Buffy not so pure anymore?” Spike taunted as he pushed Angel from his lean form. He was up on his feet in mere moments, and the two vampires started to circle each other. Spike was empty handed, his demon face brought forth to divulge his fangs. Angle’s demon façade was also evident, but he held the stake firmly in his hand, as well.
“Spike, you aren’t worthy of her. She’s more then you could handle. Call Dru off her, or I will stake you both myself.” The circling continued, with quick jabs towards each other. Finally, Angel lunged in, and embedded the stake a scant inch from its target. Spike fell backwards to the ground, and looked up at him with wide shocked eyes, before he took off running down the street. He pulled the stake out, and flung it behind him as she went.
Angel watched him go, and smiled smugly before going back up to Buffy’s room for the rest of the night. She was still sleeping peacefully when he sat down by her side, which he was glad of. She would want Spike for herself, and he knew he wouldn’t be saved an ass chewing if she found he had almost dusted Spike himself.