Facing the Mirrors
Part 2


Written by: 1stRab-id a.k.a Raeann


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Summary: An old friend of Buffy’s returns with a little surprise for her. Set after Wrecked but not really spoilery
Disclaimer: These are the toys of Joss and Mutant Enemy and Fox TV and UPN and well everyone but me…not my toys just my twisted Malibu Dream House. "Gunning Down Romance” by Savage Garden not as bad as I make it sound. ;-D, other songs credited in text.
Notes: Rilla, Binkysab, LostAngel and Nautibitz…they are the best…no doubt about it. Special thanks to: NB for putting my feet on the voyeurism path.
Feedback: Rabid1st@yahoo.com


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Only the Slayer’s razor sharp instincts kept the scene from turning ugly. She sensed Spike tensing a second before he sprang. She shot out her arm in front of him. With no preamble, she shoved him backward over the horse. The vampire hit the mat hard. He started to scramble up and was leveled with a roundhouse kick to the head. He rolled with the blow, tackling her as soon as he found his feet. They slid across the floor nearly bowling down the Scoobies.

“Be right out,” she yelled at the assembly over Spike’s shoulder. “Almost finished here.”

Then she flipped the vampire over her head, popped to her feet and shoved Anya, Xander and Riley bodily back into the shop. Without further explanation, she slammed the door in their startled faces. A split second later, something hit the door hard. There was a loud sputtering of angry voices from the training room and then an intense unintelligible muttering.

“Well,” Riley sighed, walking over to the research table and sinking into a chair, “I guess that answers that question.”

“What question?”

“He’s talking about the thing between Buffy and Spike, Honey,” Anya explained.

“Huh?”

“The sex thing,” Anya prompted.

“And again, Huh?”

“Come on,” Riley snorted at the carpenter. “Are you saying you didn’t know?”

“Sometimes Xander misses the obvious,” Anya casually commented to the soldier. “But he is a wonderful man in many other respects.”

“What thing?” Harris yelped. “There is no thing here?” Then he hesitated and glanced at his fiancée. “Is there a thing?”

“Looks like, Sweetie,” Anya said, giving him as small consoling pat on the arm as he too dropped into a chair.

After a pause the ex-demon asked brightly, “Does anyone want a pot of tea? Giles left tea when he went back to England and he was always suggesting a cup for these awkward moments.”

Neither Riley nor Xander wanted tea. The two men sat at a table, each lost in their own thoughts. Anya waited on a customer. Finally, Buffy and Spike came out of the training room. The vampire didn’t so much as look at the assembled humans. He locked eyes with the Slayer for several long seconds. Then he turned and stalked silently to the exit. The bell jangled wildly as he yanked open the door. With a swish of his duster, Spike disappeared into the night. Buffy looked after him, wishing she could leave as well.

“There’s a THING between YOU and SPIKE?” Xander asked, opening the conversation.

Buffy blinked at him, “Huh?”

“See?” Xander said, indicating her with one open-palmed hand. “That’s what I said.”

“No,” she denied with a frown and quick shake of her head. “It’s just,” she began and then paused, looking after the vampire again.

“Just what?” Riley prompted, standing up.

“Spike!” Buffy shrugged, turning to face her ex. “Always something but really nothing.”

“Funny,” Riley commented, “didn’t seem like…’nothing’ from where I was sitting.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.

Changing the subject and ignoring his insinuation, she challenged, “Why are you here?”

“Finished my tour in the jungle,” Riley replied. “Thought I might go back to school.”

“That explains why you’re in Sunnydale,” Buffy snapped, “but not why you’re here.”

“He came to see if you were still mad at him,” Anya informed the Slayer.

Appalled by this candor, Riley looked over at the ex-demon and then, quite suddenly, his expression softened and he laughed.

“Okay,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. He turned to grin at the Slayer, “That about sums it up.”

Buffy also smiled. She had forgotten how sweet Riley’s disposition was, how comfortable he made her feel. He was like a buddy. Maybe this time, she thought, they could just be friends. No stress, no passion, just a rock-steady milk and cookies kind of male/female interaction. After months of swinging between the extremes of eroticism, molten surrender and frigid denial, it was nice to feel that sense of non-descript warmth radiating from a man. The Slayer sighed and relaxed.

“I’m sorry, Riley,” she said. “It’s good to see you. Really it is.”


*~*~*~*~*~*


Spike stormed through the darkness. He was pissed. In fact, he was beyond pissed and well on his way to seriously enraged.

“This is how it is,” he muttered to himself, “the Captain shows up on her doorstep after all these months and suddenly it’s ‘get lost Spike. Time for me to play like a good little girl again. Time to pretend that I don’t shag the undead; that I don’t spend every night in your crypt begging you to make me come.’ Well, if that’s how she wants it…fine. We will see how long he can keep her satisfied, now. Couldn’t do it before she came back from the dead with her craving for my touch.”

But even as he said the words, Spike felt the cold knife of despair in his gut. It didn’t matter to him that Riley wasn’t man (or monster) enough to hold Buffy’s attention. What mattered was the Soldier attracted her attention in the first place. It underlined the fact that Spike was only a convenience. There to satisfy her lust and nothing more. It made him feel like a glorified sex toy.

Buffy had made it absolutely clear that what she and Spike shared was a guilty secret, confined to the space of a room or a bed. Never to be spoken out loud. It riled Spike that she still insisted none of her friends ever learn about them. And it infuriated him that her circle of “friends” had just been expanded to include Riley Finn.

“Should have killed him years ago,” Spike growled as memories of standing under a tree outside Buffy’s window, listening to her and Riley in bed, came back to haunt him.

“If she lets him touch her…I’ll…I’ll…oh, god….” His voice dwindled away as it came to him that there was nothing he could do.

Spike hated what he had become because of the chip; because of her. He was powerless against Buffy Summers. He couldn’t fight his rival. He couldn’t kill his tormentor. And he couldn’t leave. Lord, knows he’d tried to leave her three times over. It didn’t matter what the Slayer did or how much she hurt him. Spike would stay. He would take Buffy back on her terms and give her whatever she needed in the night, even if she went to Riley’s bed in the morning.

The pain that accompanied that thought was so devastating that Spike clutched at his chest. It felt like Finn had staked him again. He needed a drink.


*~*~*~*~*~*


After an initial awkwardness and a quick call to Willow to make sure Dawn was safe at home, Riley, Buffy, Xander and Anya went out for an early dinner. The restaurant they chose was casual and crowded. The talk around the table was general. The Slayer sat opposite the Soldier, stealing Xander’s seat next to Anya. Riley told them about Central America. He mentioned the people and the history but glossed over the actual fighting. Xander and Anya discussed their upcoming wedding. Buffy was a bit distracted but she managed to ask the right questions and offer up reasonably good answers.

She was concerned about Spike but she didn’t think she would be able to shake Riley off tonight without lengthy explanations. Xander had his heart set on a movie after dinner but Buffy was worried about the vampire’s mood. If she blew off his plans for an evening with her ex-lover, Spike just might come looking for her.

Riley was back and Buffy realized quite suddenly that it didn’t matter to her, not in that big emotional turmoil way. What did matter was that Spike was obviously feeling territorial. She’d tried to explain why she needed to talk to Riley. But she doubted Spike had understood. Buffy sighed. Riley returning was yet another complication in her already over complicated life.

Adding to that complication was the fact that Buffy couldn’t help remembering what had happened the last time the three of them were together. There had been drama and high emotion, much of it beneath the surface. She had followed Spike into the night, into a vampire nest, and her whole world had collapsed around her. Spike had taken her to that place out of love. But, at the time, Buffy had imagined he was motivated by the joy of shaming her and causing her pain. The fact that she had trusted him to lead her into such a place had made the revelation so much more humiliating.

After a brief argument about who was treating whom to dinner, Riley and Xander went off together to pay the bill. The line at the cash register was long and slow moving. Anya and Buffy lingered over coffee and dessert. The Slayer was still preoccupied. She was trying to think of a way to casually drop by Spike’s place.

“And then what?” she berated herself silently. “Are you going to stay? Are you going to leave him a Dear Psycho note? ‘Please try to understand that I need to be with the humans right now. It’s nothing personal, but they can’t know about you and I.’ Yeah,” Buffy mentally scoffed, “That’ll do the trick. Spike is bound to be reasonable after that!”

“So,” Anya said into the long, uncomfortable silence, “what is Spike like in the sack?”

Buffy choked on her cappuccino and then gaped as Anya continued speaking.

“Vampires are usually so one dimensional,” Anya expounded. “Like it’s all about the bite. I know three I slept with had such oral fixations. Well, let’s just say, once you got past the aura of brooding mystery there was nothing there. But Spike looks like he could satisfy a woman on many different levels. I was wondering if he really does?”

She raised an inquiring brow at the Slayer and took a sip of her own coffee.

“I…uhm…uh,” Buffy said at a complete loss for words. She shot a guilty glance across the room at Riley’s back and then hissed, “Why are you asking me?”

“Because anyone can see that you and Spike are sleeping together,” Anya replied and then reconsidered. “Well, anyone that ISN’T Xander.”

“Any…who? What can they see?” Buffy yelped, totally appalled by this news.

“Is this another one of those things that I’m not supposed to ask?”

“No,” Buffy began then corrected, “I mean YES! You are not suppose to ask and NO, I don’t know anything about Spike and his…sack!”

“Hmmm,” Anya said looking, puzzled for a moment before she leaned in to clarify, “You do know that I’m talking about sex, right?”

“Yes, I…" Buffy blinked, "you’ve slept with THREE vampires?”

“Dracula, as you know,” Anya confirmed, ticking off on her fingers, “Ictratius Galaitus and this redhead at Woodstock…I never really got his name.”

“I see,” Buffy gulped. She looked over at the counter for a minute where Riley and Xander stood in line and then she checked the surrounding tables for eavesdroppers.

She lowered her voice to a whisper before asking, “And…uhm…what was it like? I mean…were they…uhm….” She checked the room again, “Were they…uhm…generously and differently…you know…endowed? And, uhm…were they,” she breathed out the word, “Inventive?”

“Oh, yes,” Anya nodded, smiling at the memory. “Vlad in particular. Lots of stamina, too.”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed, sinking back in her seat. She shifted a bit in the chair as her body responded to her thoughts.

“You ARE having sex with Spike!” Anya grinned, clapping her hands together, well pleased with her deductive abilities.

“How do you know I’m not thinking about Angel?”

“Are you?” Anya asked, guilelessly. Buffy hesitated, distrust clear on her face. She glanced toward the men again. Anya rolled her eyes, “I won’t tell them, if that’s what you’re thinking. This is girl talk. Men wouldn’t understand it. It can be our secret if you want.”

The former demon drew a complicated hex sign in the air and then kissed her fingertips before saying, “I promise on the sacred bile of H’dnyalt Org I will never repeat what you say.”

Buffy thought about how much she wanted to tell someone her secret. Someone who would understand. Someone who wouldn’t judge. But she had never considered Anya a friend. Anya was an interloper in the Scoobie Gang, always an outsider. She had that in common with Spike and Tara. The bond of friendship existed between Buffy, Willow and Xander. But the ex-demon was right about one thing…Xander wouldn’t understand. Willow might have, once, but now she was almost a stranger. Buffy doubted she would feel comfortable sharing this secret with her Wiccan friend. Willow was too lost in her own dark temptations.

Buffy considered the thousand year old girl for a moment and then asked, “Can a Demon really love someone?”

“Well, that’s an offensive question,” Anya sniffed.

Then she saw the confusion in the Slayer’s eyes. Buffy seemed to genuinely need an answer. The former demon felt a quick rush of sisterhood. She scooted her chair closer and gave the other woman’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Well…as you know, there are many different kinds of demons,” Anya explained, “but most of them can and do love. In fact, statistically, I have cursed very few demon males for cheating, 250 tops. And several vampires of my acquaintance have mated for life…or afterlife or whatever.”

“Really?” Buffy asked obviously stirred in some way by this news.

“Oh, yes,” Anya assured her. “Vampires are pack animals. They’re a lot like wolves. All about hierarchy and the alpha/omega thing. Of course, they will have sex with anything that moves. And the sire bond can complicate things. But when it comes to true love, vampires are all looking for that special someone. I suspect that’s the attraction with you.”

“I move?” Buffy guessed, making a face.

“No,” Anya groaned, giving her new girlfriend a playful poke. “You’re the Alpha Female; the strongest fighter. It brings on the mating urge in the more powerful vampire males. And the sex would have to be fantastic, too. I mean given your stamina and flexibility. If you had a male to match you in endurance and strength then…”

“…it could go on all night,” Buffy finished. She knew her face was beet red.

“And it already has,” Anya guessed, favoring the other woman with a wide knowing grin. She bounced excitedly in her seat, “So how was he?”

“Oh, my God,” Buffy said, forgetting to check the room. Tipping back her head and closing her eyes, she placed a hand on her breast like a Southern Belle suffering a fit of the vapors, “You have no idea. The creativity, and the...natural talent, I cannot begin to tell you how good he is.”

“Best ever?” Anya suggested.

Buffy sat up straight and nailed Anya with a meaningful look, “The afterglow can last for DAYS.”

They shared a feminine moment. Anya broke it with another question.



“Does he do the purring thing?” she asked.

“You mean when he…” Buffy began and cut her eyes to indicate the Ex-Demon’s napkin-draped lap.

“When he goes down on you?” Anya encouraged. “Vlad always did the purring thing. It was very memorable.”

“Yeah,” Buffy blushed again, “he purrs. He growls. He hums. His tongue is just…amazing. And I can NOT believe I am telling you all of this.”

“You need to tell someone,” Anya said, patting the back of Buffy’s hand. The Slayer was watching Riley who was staring back at their table as Anya added, “I remember what it was like for me when I first fell in love with Xander. I had no female friends to share these wonderful new feelings with and…”

“LOVE?” Buffy interrupted with a snort, looking down so Riley couldn’t see the word forming on her lips she spoke from the side of her mouth. “I’m not in love with SPIKE! No love, no way.”

“But,” Anya looked confused, “you’re having sex with him.”

“Well, like you said,” the Slayer muttered, “vampires ‘will have sex with anything that moves’.” She looked up and saw that the men had reached the front of the line at the cash register.

“That would explain about Spike,” Anya responded reasonably, “but not about you. You are not a vampire. You’re a human being.”

Spike’s voice spoke in Buffy’s mind. “You came back wrong…a little less human than you were.”

“Humans have recreational sex, too,” Buffy snapped. “Look, the guys will be back any minute, can we just stop talking about this now?”

“Yes, but you are more than just human,” Anya pressed. “You’re the Slayer. It’s different for you. Vampires and Slayers are natural enemies. Why would you have sex with one that you didn’t love?”

“I said drop it!” The Slayer growled, moving her chair away from Anya and picking up a menu. “I really don’t like talking about this kind of thing, anyway.”

“Fine,” The ex-demon said, trying and failing to hide her hurt feelings. She looked up and spotted Xander and Riley approaching. Buffy tensed, shooting her a warning look.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anya said, screwing up her face at the Slayer. “Your secret is safe. I promised not to tell, so I won’t. But if you ask me, you need therapy.”

“Therapy for what?” Xander asked, stepping up to the table and into the conversation. He held up Anya’s coat so she could slip into it.

His voice registered concern as he addressed the Slayer, “You still having those nightmares, Buff?”

“No,” Buffy replied as Riley offered her own jacket, “I was just telling Ahn about my unnatural fear of Maraschino Cherries. Ordering a mixed drink breaks me out in cold sweats. You just never know what the garnish will be.”

“Well, the cherry is a deceptive fruit,” Xander said with a suggestive nudge for Riley. Both Anya and Buffy rolled their eyes at the pathetic sexual innuendo.

“Stick to martinis,” Riley suggested as the foursome headed for the door, “Olive or onion, either way your safe.”

“Straight up tequila,” Buffy remarked, stepping out into the mild California night, “That’s my hard liquor of choice. No garnish but the worm.”

Glowing green eyes watched from the restaurant rooftop as the Slayer and her friends walked off down the street. The demon followed at a distance, stalking his prey. When the four friends entered a movie theater, the demon settled down to wait. He was patient, his kind was known for their patience.


*~*~*~*~*~*


Spike eyed the worm in the bottom of his bottle. He didn’t like the look of it. He didn’t much like the look of anything else in the bar either. Though, there was a brunette at the jukebox who wasn’t completely repulsive. She had one hip swung out as she considered the selections available for her dollar. A partially consumed cigarette dangled from her scarlet-tipped fingers.

She had walked past Spike on the way to the jukebox, leaving a tantalizing mix of odors in her wake. Old beer, new smoke and dime-store perfume were all layered over ready sexuality. The vampire studied her leather clad, extra-curvaceous form. His eyes assessed her from her ankle-hugging boots and tight skirt, to her chain encrusted jacket and home-dyed, over-sprayed hair. He knew what she wanted and what she was like. She was hard but easy. In the past hundred years, Spike had taken more women like her than he could possibly count. He had pounded into them, quick and brutal in some dank alley. Then he had opened up their veins to feed.

He couldn’t have the latter experience anymore, but Spike saw no reason why he couldn’t enjoy the former. He got up and walked over to help the brunette pick out a song. Twenty minutes later they were falling out the backdoor, locked around each other. Slamming her into the bar’s outer wall, Spike hiked up the woman’s skirt. He tore a hole in her fishnet stockings and slid two fingers deep inside her. The brunette moaned in response and tightened around him. He lowered his head to her throat pulling in the rich mix of store bought scents and then, quite suddenly, a good reason not to do this came to him.

Spike froze. He tried to shake off the images in his mind, to let go of the unnatural guilt that was threatening to consume him. He wanted to embrace the raw pleasure of this moment. The brunette continued to jack against his hand. But she was well-used, loose and barely damp. Spike’s fingers were accustomed to a tighter, slicker, fit. What had smelled like fun now sickened him with its tawdriness. Cursing himself and the Slayer, he pulled out of the woman and turned away. The brunette caught at his arm, first pleading and then adding her own curses to Spike’s as he shook her off and walked resolutely out of the alley.


*~*~*~*~*~*


“Dang, that was a long movie,” Buffy repeated for the fourth time as she rubbed a hand over her hip. “I feel like my sitter is still seated.”

“Yeah, but it was so good,” Xander gushed. “I mean those Orcs climbing the walls like that. Do they do that in real life, Honey?”

“There are NO Orcs in real-life, Sweetie,” Anya sighed. “I keep telling you, ‘it’s just a movie.’”

“But there are trolls in real life,” Xander reminded his fiancée. “And fiery demons.”

“Yeah,” Riley added, “and dwarves and elves.”

“There are elves?” Buffy asked with a lift of her eyebrow. “Are they like the little cookie making kind or…”

The Scyllain attacked. It surged out of the darkness, bellowing like a bull elephant, just as the Slayer’s party reached the edge of the cemetery. Riley stepped into the demon’s path, swinging a wild punch. The thing swept him aside like a bothersome gnat. It took aim at Buffy and she met it head on. They crashed together and were both thrown to the ground by the impact.

Xander moved in stabbing a broken tree branch into the fallen demon. Riley screamed out an incomprehensible curse, distracting the carpenter at the worst possible moment. Batting Xander aside, the Scyllain lumbered to its feet. Once again, it targeted the Slayer.

“Come on, then, you overgrown pine cone,” Buffy snarled, dancing in front of the creature.

She hit it with a flurry of punches and kicks but her blows had no visible effect. She spun a roundhouse kick at it. It blocked her foot, twisting her leg up so that she fell hard. Buffy rolled quickly to her feet and punched into the behemoth’s side as it plowed past her. It roared its rage and swung a paw that connected with her shoulder. Two of its talons ripped into Buffy’s flesh. The force of the impact sent her flying headfirst into a tombstone. As the human’s watched in impotent dismay the Scyllain bore down on the unmoving Slayer.

“BUFFY!” Xander and Riley screamed in unison, momentarily distracting the demon.

Spike came out of his crypt at a dead run. He had heard the first sounds of the scuffle but hadn’t paid much attention. If the denizens of Sunnydale wanted to kill each other, Spike figured it was no concern of his. His own desire to kill was wallowing in the bottom of his third or fourth bottle of scotch. He’d lost count of the bottles but the sound of the Slayer’s name being yelled out in panic, sobered him instantly. He moved with preternatural speed, scrambling up his stairs and out the door.

Targeting on the Scoobies, the vampire dodged headstones as he raced toward the fallen Slayer and her advancing opponent. Spike was still clutching his whiskey bottle. The moment he was in range, he heaved the glass container at the Scyllain. It struck the beast and shattered spraying alcohol. Spike followed up the first missile with a second. His flaming lighter spun through the air. It landed with deadly accuracy in a puddle of Scotch. The volatile fluid ignited and the Scyllain went up like an old Christmas tree. Screaming and beating at itself, the demon staggered away into the night.

Not bothering to confirm the demon’s departure, Spike was already kneeling beside Buffy. His fingers gently explored her. He murmured soothing words as he looked for broken bones or serious injury. The Slayer’s eyes fluttered open. Slowly, carefully, she sat up. Spike stroked a hand over her cheek and her nostrils flared. Too late, he remembered the brunette. The scent of his indiscretion was still on his skin. Buffy’s eyes blazed and Spike felt a sick swirl of unaccustomed shame. He pulled his hand back, wiping it against his shirt. Silently, he pleaded for his lover’s understanding. She looked past him to her friends.

Riley and Xander shouldered Spike aside. The vampire let them. The two men assisted the Slayer to stand. She wobbled slightly and then found her center. She didn’t look at Spike.

“What the hell was that thing?” Buffy asked, putting a hand to her still spinning head.

“Scyllain Demon,” Spike, Anya and Riley all said at once.

The vampire turned a suddenly suspicious look on the soldier. He was wondering how Riley recognized the beast. It was unlikely that the Initiative had captured a Scyllain. They were among the upper echelon of earth bound demons. Not easy to kill or capture because of their hive-like nature.

They could only be killed by killing all parts of them at once. And they were only whole on rare occasions: during mating or spawning or assimilating. Parts that were cut off from the whole through capture or serious mutilation would wither and die. But they would be replaced. Spike was dead certain that the one that had just attacked the Slayer was separated into components. He knew the fire would wound it but not fatally.

“So, how do I kill it?” Buffy asked when nobody volunteered more information.

“You don’t,” Riley answered. “It’s me that it’s after.”

“Funny,” Spike growled, “it looked like it was after the Slayer.”

“Buffy just got in the way,” Riley returned. “I was hoping she would be able to stop it but I see now that I was wrong. I’m sorry, I should never have come back here. I should go.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Spike nodded in cheerful agreement. But the Slayer was already moving to Finn’s side. She placed one hand on his arm to keep him from leaving.

“Riley, wait,” Buffy said. “Maybe we can help. Tell us what happened. Why this thing is after you?”

Riley sighed. He looked after the creature and then up the road. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a black SUV parked at the corner. He turned to stare down at Buffy’s tiny hand, warm against his skin. He could feel Spike’s jealous glare burning into him. It almost made him smile.

“We should get inside,” Riley said at last. “Somewhere safe where we can talk.”


Continued...



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