One Good Lay | Within by Celyia

Within

Written by: Celyia

Summary: Spike decides to hit Angelus where it will hurt him most: Buffy. Spoilers up to 'Innocence'.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Feedback: LadyCelyia@aol.com

PART ONE

Thin slivers of electric light crashed down to the cemetery from the tumultous sky above, each taste of lightning homing in on some marble headstone or another, only to make it explode with the violence of its caress. Weeping with its self-inflicted wounds, the oblivious heavens waged war far above- black cloud assaulting black cloud until nothing but tears and screams were left to echo through the night.

She stalked through the hallowed grounds as if it were an altar built to worship her might, kicking at globs of dirt and whispering grass as they had the misfortune to fall beneath her small, dantily clad feet. With a disgruntled snort, she pulled the thin cotton sleeves of her black shirt down to cover her hands, hoping that the effort would shy away at least some of the chill from her aching, abused body.

Her teeth chattered unceasingly as she took refuge in the doorway of an ancient mausoleum, content to watch the muddied land from the sanctuary of stone and bronze until her prey arose from beneath her very feet.

She didn't need to wait long for the first to awaken, but the forbiding night made her reluctant to brave the elements unless it was necessary.

Streaked with mud and the earth from which he was born, the vampire kneeled upon the moist ground, his nose raised high as he inhaled the electric air. With a triumphant grin, his cloudied eyes fell upon the small, helpless-looking blonde girl who stood shivering beneath the stone archway.

Had he been more than a mere minute old, perhaps the pudgy, balding vampire would have thought twice about attacking the girl who dare meet his gaze without an ounce of fear in her hazel eyes, but instinct overpowered sense and he sauntered easily over to his doom.

"Took you long enough," the girl muttered as she pulled a stake from the waistband of her ruined suede skirt. "Really, as much as I'd like to waste my time kicking your sorry ass, I'm in a hell of a bad mood as it is. So I'm just going to say au revoir, bud."

The vampire frowned, his yellow eyes glinting in the dark as he appraised his cocky prey. Quickly, he shook his head as he reached for the girl's neck, only to watch in horror as his hand began to crumble before his eyes.

In a panic, his eyes fell to the slender piece of wood embedded in his chest where his heart would be. With his last reserves of strength, he bent over to try to pull the piece out with his teeth, but even he had to admit it was a lost cause as he felt his jaw dissipate into nothingness. With a terrified moan, the vampire decayed into a cloud of dust.

She stood quietly, wincing as she tried to brush the remains from her new skirt. No such luck, she sighed as the droplets seemed to beat the ashes into the very material.

"Okay, fine. You win! Just leave me the hell alone!" Buffy Summers shouted to the sky, only to close her eyes as the rain seemed to kiss her cheeks and forehead.

She sniffled as she paced through the graveyard, each step being one closer to abandoning her duty and running all the way home to the comfort of her safe, warm bed. She was cold, wet, and entirely uncomfortable, but there didn't seem to be a damn thing she could do about it. After all, her life was hardly her own now, was it?

Buffy groaned as she leaned her head against the slick smoothness of the granite wall, ignoring the drops of rain which so liberally doused her hair and body. How could such a beautiful night turn so bad, she wondered as she brushed the tears away from her reddened eyes.

When would the slaying stop? When could the slayer go to rest and plain ol' Buffy Summers be allowed to come to the foreground? Why the hell did she have to spend her inevitably short life hunting evil when self-centered morons like Cordelia and Harmony had the liberty of having the biggest problem in their life be finding an appropriate dumbass to take them to the winter ball?

"Just one night. One fucking night, God. Why can't I have just that?" she whispered, her voice the calm of a hurricane's eye. "What am I doing so wrong that makes you hate me so much? Chosen. Yeah, right. More like the Chosen to be Miserable for all her short life! I mean, it's bad enough I probably won't live past this year, but why the hell can't I at least have some happiness? Is it so much to ask for? Is it so much to fucking want someone to hold me? Someone to love me? Not the damn Slayer, but me? But no. The second I think I find someone, you take him away and replace him with a creature I have to kill. Oh, but that's not all, is it? No. You just had to make me love him, didn't you? You just had to make it so that even the mere thought of slaying him makes me want to die, even though his continued existence means the death of innocents.

"Fuck. Fine. I can handle spending my life protecting innocents, but why is it when it comes to me, I'm all I've fucking got? Why isn't there anyone out there protecting me? Don't I count? Or is my stupid little life completely forfeit to Your dumb little plan? Why the fuck did You give me feelings if I'm not allowed to use them? Why the hell did You make me human if You aren't gonna let me be one?"

With a defiant cry, Buffy pushed herself away from the wall and continued her slow procession across the cemetery. Fine. If the Powers That Be wanted a little warrior, that's exactly what they'd get. But not from her. Never from her.

She walked calmly across the ground, a strange peace settling over her as her decision was made. Let the Powers That Be destroy some other teenaged girl's life, she thought rebelliously as she pushed the straggles of blonde hair away from her eyes. No more. No fucking more.

She barked out a short, callous laugh as the rain seemed to thunder down from the skies above, almost as if they wept for her. They should, she thought quietly as she threw the stake into some nearby bushes. After all, tonight would be the night that Buffy Anne Summers would die.

*~*~*~*~*~*

PART TWO

He couldn't take it anymore.

Spike held his hands tightly to his ears, hoping to drown out the sounds of passion leaking into his bedroom from the next as he paced restlessly back and forth.

The Poofter did it to enrage him. The vampire as sure of that fact as much as he was that the git was currently shagging his woman against the thin, elegantly papered wall which separated the bedrooms.

"I'll kill him. I'll bloody kill him!" he growled as he picked up the nearest vase and smashed it against the ornate bronze panelling of the fireplace. His pale, sculpted face pulled into a small smile as he gazed at the carnage.

Angelus would be pissed. From the way the candlelight seemed to set the translucent pottery shards aglow among the cold ashes, Spike was willing to bet his last quid that the vase had been a priceless one.

Served the bitch-stealing Poofter right.

He dug his sharpened nails into the skin of his thighs, the dull ache nothing compared to the pain in his heart as he listened to his woman being brought to orgasm by another man. As his Drusilla screamed out his sire's bloody name.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

With an impatient sigh, he threw himself into the wheelchair that had been his prison for so long. There was a time not so long ago that the vampire would have given anything to be able to stalk into the room adjoining his and claim the mate his sire had so ruthlessly stolen. But now...

Now it hardly mattered, did it? Nothing seemed to. Not anymore.

He rubbed his hands up and down the sharp planes of his face slowly, his sensitive fingers seeming to dawdle over the fading pink scars marring his flesh. It would have been so much easier to blame this rejection on his scarred looks or his recent paralysis, but Spike knew better. He knew her better.

It didn't mean a damn to her. No, he didn't mean a damn to her since Angelus had to walk back into their lives. If he did, then she would have noticed he had regained use of his legs. She would have noticed. She should have noticed.

His nostrils flared as he listened to the wooden planks beneath the wall squeak and grind with their bumping. Growling fiercely, he thrust his fingers into his ears. But it didn't help. The sounds seemed to echo within his very head.

Thump.

He could imagine Angelus, his hands gripped around Drusilla's neck brutally.

Thump.

Drusilla biting her lip as she wrapped her legs tightly around her sire.

Thump.

Strong, dark masculine thighs thrusting between her slender legs, his body jerking as he debauched her soft, white body; not caring enough to touch her cheek as he dug into her. Drusilla liked her cheek to be caressed.

And the bloody bastard didn't care enough about her to figure that little fact out.

Spike pushed himself out of the chair, his hands gnarled in tension as he contemplated the wall.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Why hadn't she noticed?

It would only take a few steps to enter their bedroom- a few steps until all that horrible ruckus would stop. But for the first time in his unlife, Spike was terrified. Not of a Slayer and not of a death, but that she didn't love him. It would take one moment to find out the truth, but not now. No. Maybe later.

He glared angrily at the wall, hating himself for the cowardice but unable to deny the comfort of it. Fine. Let her play with Angelus. No, maybe he wasn't paralysed anymore but they didn't know that. And information is power.

No, he'd turn this to his advantage. Spike wasn't quite certain how, but he knew he could. He knew he would . One day, and one day soon, Dru would be back in his arms and that daft wanker would rue the day he ever messed with William the Bloody.

No, let the wanker fuck with his precious Dru. Two could play at this game, but only one would win. And Spike never doubted for a moment that it would be him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

PART THREE

Spike walked quietly along, raising his face to the heavens as the drops of water rained down upon his pale features. The resentment tore at him, twisting and bleeding his heart until he thought nothing was left except for the hate he felt for his sire and the woman he loved.

She had loved him at one time, not so long ago. She had even said so. There wasn't a fucking thing he *wouldn't* have done for her and she bloody well knew it. But when the Poof returned, he had been pushed out of memory. He had assumed a place of nonexistance to her. He had stood by her side for a hundred years now and yet, she had proven how little his loyalty meant.

Nothing. It was empty as the ashes of a phoenix that had already flown away. She was gone and gone she would stay.

Groaning with rage, he reached out and slammed his fists against a metal trashcan repeatedly until his blood stained his tender flesh. Unseeingly, he looked at his wounds with a shrug. Who cares, he thought as he lowered his hands. No one does. Not even me.

"She bloody well will," he promised himself firmly as he continued walking through the night.

"But how?" Spike sighed as he glanced towards the moon, which was hiding behind an embankment of clouds.

He supposed he could kidnap her before this latest developmentally challenged brainchild of theirs got off the ground. Who else but the Poof and Dru would ever consider reawakening a demon whose very mouth would suck all life into hell? He doubted they could pull it off, but once Dru got something into that wonderfully twisted mind of hers, it stayed.

No, kidnapping wouldn't work. She'd find her way back.

Perhaps he could distract her?

Fuck, right. Just like the way Angelus had been distracting her lately?

Spike growled as he laid his fists into a nearby brick wall as the name came unbidden into his mind. The poofter had cost him everything! His life, his Dru, his... everything. Just the thought of him made his feral face emerge from the confines of flesh and blood which normally hid it from view.

No, the problem isn't Dru, Spike decided as he looked at the droplets of blood flowing off his knuckles. It's Angelus. The question is, how do I make him pay for this?

With a slight grunt, he started walking towards the cemetery closest to the Slayer's house. The petite blonde would undoubtedly be patroling tonight, even as wet and horrible as it was. And whatever the answer was, *she* would undoubtedly be part of it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy leaned against the tall headstone, her small hand tightened around the stone to support her lithe weight as she repeatedly tried to reattach the heel to her shoe.

"Mother fucking son of a fucking bitch!" she growled as she finally threw the heel into the wind. "I don't fucking care. Who the fuck cares anymore, anyway?" With an angry snort, she threw herself down upon the grave and prayed that the S.O.B. who had cursed her with this life would die a million cruel deaths. Or maybe be eaten by his father, she thought with a certain relish as she remembered the greek mythology she had learned in school so long ago. If only that would happen, she thought as she noticed the tear in her new skirt. Inhaling sharply, she yanked at the tear until the skirt was nothing more than a piece of cloth clinging to her waist by only a threaded waistband.

She smiled slightly as she looked at the damage and yet, it still wasn't enough. She wanted to break things. She wanted to scream, Buffy realised as she tried to ignore her heaving chest and tearing eyes. She wanted to scream.

Suddenly, her gut tingled and cramped, the way it always did whenever a vampire was around.

Perfect, she thought as she slowly climbed to her feet. Gracefully, she reached down and broke the heel off her other shoe and examined it carefully.

"Broken and ugly and completely useless," she muttered as she looked at the sad remains, her heart cramping as she realised she wasn't referring to the shoe at all. "It's worth nothing. Why even fucking bother?" Buffy sighed as she leaned back over the headstone in order to reattach the heel. A slow, soft smile came to her lips as she closed her eyes and waited.

Be fast, she silently asked of the vampire standing just a few yards behind her. Don't even give me time to scream.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He stood there, watching the petite blonde as she fiddled with her broken shoe, a slight frown creasing his face.

This woman had caused him so much trouble, Spike thought as he watched her lean over the headstone, her small rear hanging over as if it had a huge target sign painted upon the tattered cloth. The urge to rush and just end it all here and now was strong, yet something held him back. Yes, he could kill her, of that he was positively certain. But what would that do? Perhaps it would annoy Angelus, but then, it may not. Certainly his sire obsessed over the girl and would probably kill him for encroaching on his territory, but still... Spike couldn't see how it would benefit in the end. No, Angelus would only cling to Drusilla more, using her until she no longer had any thoughts to spare for her former lover.

He rubbed his hands over his face, oblivious to the trail of blood left in their wake as he continued watching the young girl attempt to fix her shoe. His nose wrinkled suddenly as his blue eyes focused on the white expanse of thigh which lay exposed to the night from beneath the torn cloth that once was her skirt.

She was a pretty thing, Spike decided suddenly as his eyes traced over the supple body and long blonde hair of his next victim. Perhaps it wouldn't be uncalled for, he thought as he felt his body respond to her soaked one, to have a little sport with this one. Angelus would be furious if he found out that Spike had the Slayer. And in his twisted mind, he may not even blame Spike at all... all his hate and anger would be focused back upon the blonde girl, where they belonged. Things would be back to the way they should be: Dru in love with him, and Angelus? obsessing over the one girl who has the power to destroy him. Maybe he'd get lucky and they'd kill each other. You never know, he thought as he stared at the Slayer's young body. Miracles do happen.

A small smile lit his face for the first time in a while as he cautiously approached her, wondering what would happen next. Maybe she'd kill him, but at this point, the vampire felt he had nothing to lose. Blood pounded through his ears as his eyes focused back upon that startling thigh, its creamy skin seemingly framed by ruined cloth and mud. He wanted the Slayer, Spike decided as he stalked confidently up behind her. And tonight, he'd have her.

*~*~*~*~*~*

PART FOUR

She closed her eyes as she felt the air move behind her

I can't do this, Buffy decided suddenly as she felt the vampire stand directly behind her. I can't. I may go down, but not without a fucking fight! she decided as she pulled herself up to her full height.

At that very moment, strong, muscular arms clasped around her slender waist, pinning her arms to her side as he pulled her hard against his own body. Inhaling sharply as she felt his excitement, Buffy closed her eyes as she tried to lull her attacker to a false confidence.

"Hey, hey. None of that now, pet," a soft voice whispered into her ear, taking the opportunity to nuzzle it softly.

Her head shot up as she heard the whispered voice. Familiar voice, she thought as she positioned her legs for a throw.

"No. I said none of that," he chuckled as he forced his leg between her thighs, throwing her completely off balance. Had his arms not been so firmly gripped around her waist, the Slayer would have fallen to the muddy grass.

Her chest heaved pitiful as she tried to look around, but his arms had successfully immobilised her entire body.

"Quiet down. I'm not going to hurt you," his voice seemed to be smiling even as he whispered the words into her ear.

"Uh huh," Buffy responded, shooting as much bravado into her voice as possible. "And I'm sure you also sell bridges too, right?"

The vampire chuckled softly, tickling her ear with his laughter until her nose was left twitching from the odd sensation.

"Maybe a little one," he admitted solemnly, only to begin kissing her ear softly.

Buffy started as she felt his cool, moist breath against the tender folds, only to close her eyes in pain as she felt his soft lips lower to her neck.

Not like this, she thought in a panic. Please, God. Not like this. Summoning all her strength, she tried to push back into him but she couldn't gain enough leverage.

"Calm down," the voice said gently into the base of her neck as his teeth began to slightly tease the sensitive skin.

"I am, damn you," she growled as she tried desperately to regain balance. "I am."

"Shh..." he whispered as he gently stroked a finger down her cheek. Her eyes shot open as she realised that he only held her with one hand now...

"No you don't," he chuckled as he pulled her once again back against him.

"Why are you doing this, you sick bastard?" Buffy asked suddenly, willing for the tears which choked her throat to disipate into nothingness. "You don't need to do this. You proved your point, okay? You don't need to do this."

The voice was silent for a moment, his body hard and unyielding as he continued holding her tightly to his chest.

"I..." he started, his voice softer and less arrogant than before. She felt her heart fall to her feet as she recognised the breathy whispers. "I want you, Buffy. But I can never have you. What you are... what I am... just doesn't mix. But it doesn't keep me from wanting you."

"Angelus..." she breathed, her tone childlike and uncertain as she felt his strong body move suddenly, as if startled.

"No. No names. Tonight," he whispered as his lips pressed against her throat in an oddly possessive gesture, "tonight we are strangers, never to know each other's names or lives. The war can be fought tomorrow, but for tonight? Tonight you are mine."

Her strength weakened by the thought, she fell back against the vampire, tears coming to her eyes as she considered the want burning within her and hating herself for it. To fall into the arms of her enemy would be a horrible betrayal- of her friends, of her mother, and of those this monster had killed. But to deny him, to deny her own desires seemed to be the greatest betrayal of all.

"Oh, god. I can't. I just really can't," she whispered, her body trembling. "I can't."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike growled hungrily as he felt her lean against him even amid her protests. She felt magnificant in his arms, her small body seeming to fit perfectly in the embrace. He shook his head suddenly as he listened to the sobs caught in the beautiful creature's throat. He took a deep, unnecessary breath as the sound twisted his heart uncomfortably until all he wished to do was take away her uncertainties and the pain.

"You can," he murmured gently into her ear. "Let time stop for a night. Let us forget who we are and just be lost within each other."

Buffy sighed as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closed in sorrow.

"Will the night end with my death?" she asked quietly, her voice hollow.

"Tonight there are no vampires and no slayers. Just you and me," Spike responded, smiling in surprise as he wondered at the sudden poetic turn in his mood.

She nodded in response, her eyes remaining closed. Curiousity overcoming him, he lifted a finger to wipe away the tears that chased down her tanned cheeks. "Keep them closed, luv," he asked spontaneously, only to smile as he saw her nod of consent. "Let the night be in here..." Spike suggested as he laid a gentle finger above her heart.

"Angel..."

"No names, luv," he growled, frowning as he decided he didn't like to hear that word upon her lips. "No names."

"What now?" Buffy asked quietly, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Spike caressed the side of her small body with his hands, his lips curving into a smile as he realised that she made no attempt to escape. "We see if we can't just give you a night to remember in your dreams."

She sighed softly even as she leaned against his hands in resignation.

No, he thought as his touch roughened. You're passionate, Spike growled as his hands cupped her breasts demandingly, and I want your passion tonight.

Startled, she inhaled sharply as his callused fingers rubbed tight, little circles around her nipples, until they hardened with want and desire. Smiling at her mounting excitement, his fingers teased and seeked out the hardened peaks, twisting and pulling them until he felt her hips move up and down against his own excitement.

Groaning as her hips teased unceasingly at the tip of his manhood, he allowed his hand to wander down as the other continued kneading and rubbing her soft breasts. He felt her body shiver as his fingers tentatively ducked beneath the wet cloth which hung gracelessly around her waist, hiding her beautiful body from his own. With a cocky smile, he slipped a single finger underneath the tiny panties, only to start at the incredible warmth of her inner body. His finger, scalded as if by sunlight, continued on only to tease the soft hair which shielded the heart of her femininity.

Her body pulsed against his, forcing his finger to touch the sensitive nub at the apex of her thighs. Gasping for breath, she reached behind her, obviously intent on unzipping his jeans.

"No. Not yet," Spike panted, closing his eyes as he pulled her hard against him as he desperately tried to retain his self-control.

Buffy shook her head, pulling his hand down so it would encompass her entire mound.

"Please."

Spike laughed suddenly as his thumb slowly teased her swollen nub as his other fingers began carefully exploring her moist opening. I'm fucking evil, he reminded himself as he released a hand from her breast and tried to unzip his jeans. Nobility isn't in the fucking job description.

"Let me," Buffy offered, her voice faint with need as her fingers teased and pulled at the zipper. Groaning as her finger brushed against his hardness, Spike bit his lip as the instinct to bury his teeth into her neck became nearly impossible to ignore.

"Fuck this," he growled as he released his hands from her long enough to pull down his jeans.

"I thought we kind of were," Buffy rejoined, a slight smile teasing at her full lips.

He exhaled, his eyes transfixed by the beautiful smile she had so freely given him. Shaking his head, he lowered his hands to her waist, stripping her of her skirt and panties in one graceful movement, but still his eyes refused to move from that beauteous smile.

I can't kiss her, he thought suddenly as the urge nearly overcame him. She'd know. It would all be over. I can't kiss her. His hands acted fast, pushing and pulling her until her hips were against him and her arms leaned against the old stone of the grave marker for support. But still, all he could think of was kissing those shiny, pink lips.

Nearly roaring from the disappointment, he pulled her hard against him, stealing her breath as he came within her with a savage determination. He threw his head back as the tight warmth consumed nearly his every thought and feeling, except for the bright image in his head of her small smile.

She grunted with the force of his thrusts, her golden hair flying with each movement.

With a shake of his head, a hand fell back to the apex of her thighs, his fingers demanding her pleasure as he took his own. A crooked smile usurped the determined look on the vampire's face as he felt her body tense as she neared her climax, her tight canal pulling him deep inside and trapping him as her passion grew.

Buffy gasped suddenly, her lithe body bucking and writhing beneath him as she reached her release. Overcome with her frantic movements, he pulled her hips as tightly against him as he could as his body shot its joy into her own. Spike pulled her close as the last of his excitement faded away into tired pleasure, smiling slightly as he listened to the soft pounding of her heart.

Quietly, he remained inside her, content to feel her warmth for just a little while longer.

Buffy giggled suddenly as she pulled away from him, leaving him alone again.

"No. Not yet," he gasped out, some strange emotion clouding his voice.

"No. Not yet," she agreed, but there was a bit of laughter hiding in the softness of her tone. "But I'd prefer to get out of the rain before I drown."

Spike shook his head suddenly as he looked up to the sky. It wasn't just raining, it was bloody pouring! It probably had been for a few minutes but he had been so caught up in the Slayer's sweet, beautiful body that he hadn't noticed.

A crooked smile crossed his lips as he quickly retrieved their clothes from the ground.

"Shh. I'm not ready to give you up yet. Keep your eyes closed," he said as he spotted suitable shelter in the glistening distance.

"But... C'mon. You can't expect me to walk there with my eyes shut," Buffy grinned, that beautiful, soul-stealing smile appearing on her face once more.

His heart felt lighter as he smiled back in response, although he knew quite well she didn't see it.

"Trust me," Spike whispered softly as he reached for her hand. "Just trust me."

*~*~*~*~*~*

PART FIVE

Buffy felt the cool, smooth hand wrap around her own as Angelus pulled her quickly along a muddy path through the cemetery. He was true as his word, she decided as he steered her between the headstones and fallen branches with ease. Each time she thought she may slip, his strong arm would be around her to support her as they jogged towards their destination.

"In here," he whispered, a certain chuckle dancing in his voice. Her lips curved in response as she felt a certain lightness enter her heart. If only... she shook her head firmly as she dismissed the thought. He was right. No names tonight.

She heard a heavy door creak and suddenly he pulled her into the room.

"The mausoleum?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

"Nice and dry and dark. At least this way, as long as you don't go out of your way to look at me, you can open your eyes without us worrying about losing this night together," his voice seemed to echo throughout the room, its very tone reminding her how much she had to lose by looking.

"I won't," Buffy whispered solemnly as she allowed him to pull her down to the floor. Gearing herself up for another round of sex, she blinked in surprise as Angelus only pulled her upon his lap so he could quietly nuzzle her neck.

That was unexpected, Buffy thought as she relaxed against his hard body. Quietly, she lowered herself until her head leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes in comfort as he caressed the length of her thigh affectionately.

Together they sat in the darkness, the vampire holding her tightly next to him as his white hand gently stroked the sweaty, golden lengths of her hair.

"Why?" Buffy asked suddenly, her eyes trying to focus on the ancient door of the mausoleum. Sighing, she shook her head as she leaned back against him. His body almost seemed to shudder as her words echoed throughout the room.

He wrinkled his nose, unwilling to speak as he nuzzled her hair.

"I mean it, Angelus. Why?"

Her soft words startled him, and he barely restrained from snarling as he heard the name. He took a deep breath only to chuckle as the futility of the gesture hit him.

"Don't call me that. Not tonight. No questions," he whispered in a rush, his voice taking on the sweet, gentle accent of his youth. He winced as he realised his impression of his sire wasn't so good.

To his amazement, Buffy just nodded.

"I don't want this, you know. God, I'm so tired," she leaned her head back on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she continued to speak. "Just wanna close my eyes and never wake up, you know?"

It hit him then. She wasn't relaxing against him as a lover would at the climax of passion. She was offering herself to him. Bloody hell, she wasn't offering. She was begging. He growled dangerously as a flood of anger rushed through his non-pulsating veins.

"So what. Is that what this is all about? You want me to kill you? You want me to put you out of your misery?"

"Angel..."

"Don't call me that." Slight pause. "No names tonight."

"Why is it so hard for you to do it? Come on. It's not like you fucking love me. Maybe you did. But you don't now. Do you?" He could feel her tense up as he held her tightly to him. He didn't miss the plea in her hostility. "Do you?"

"No. I don't," he sighed as he leaned his head against hers, waiting for the tears.

She seemed to snuggle deeply into him, as if she were afraid he'd leave if given the chance.

"I know. I hate it. But I know."

He frowned at her simple answer. Unable to help himself, he kissed the top of her head, only to have the frown turn fierce as he realised his action. But the girl was oblivious.

Buffy only looked up, her sad smile visible even in the dark.

"I used to want to be an ice skater. I mean, a real one. Not the kind that drops into the rink every other Tuesday in a fancy outfit and whirls around the ice with everyone else. I wanted to be the best. I wanted to be the girl who would be let in *before* they opened the rink so I could practice by myself. Because I was that damn good. Because I was that damn important."

"There's so much within. There's so much just trying and trying to get out. But I won't ever have the chance. I'll never be an ice skater. Not because I'm not good enough. But because I won't live that fucking long. You know what that's like? It's fucked up. There is just *so* much out there I could do, but I *can't*. So why bother? Why bother fighting when everything is gonna go to hell anyway? Why bother when the expiration date stamped on my ass is about to run out?"

"So you are just gonna lay down then, Slayer? Die like a good little girl because your plans have to change?"

"Does it sound like I have a choice? Does it sound like there is *anything* in my life that's up to me?"

He growled then, annoyed to the limits of his patience with her attitude.

"This..." he bit off, no longer caring that his voice was raising above a whisper as he grabbed her hand. "This isn't your hand?"

"Fuck you."

"And this?" he continued, ignoring her as if she never spoke. Gently, he laid her hand against the warm skin above her rapidly beating heart. "And this isn't yours, either? So it isn't up to you to decide what you wear? How you do your hair?"

"Those are stupid things..."

"No. They are *everything*. Because it isn't *just* your decision on clothes that you make. It's also how you shop. What you buy. Who your friends are. How you act. Don't you see, pet? When it comes right down to it, you decide how you live. You choose how you fight. And you will decide how you die."

"If it were that simple then the other slayers would have survived longer..."

"And maybe they just bloody well didn't want to? Ever think of that? Maybe they were hurting one night *just like you*."

She quieted down at his words, uncomfortable but accepting it.

"You knew..."

"Bloody hell, of *course* I knew. The vibes you were giving off were kind of hard to miss."

"I just want..." she sighed, breaking off as she rubbed at her eyes with the back of her fist.

He pursed his lips as he watched the oddly endearing action, unconsciously tightening his grip around her waist. He closed his eyes, as if to block out the sight. But a moment later, his lips brushed against the tender fold of her ear, seemingly of their own accord.

"What do you want, Princess?"

"To be *me*. I want to be plain old Buffy Summers.

"And you aren't?"

She shook her head quickly.

"I'm the Slayer. The 'Chosen One'.

He stroked the back of her hand with a thumb. "Bloody daft, aren't you? In case you missed it before, as long as this is your hand, it's your choice what you do with it. You alone tell it what to do, no matter what *they* try to tell you. Now, if you want to just do as you're told, that's fine. But don't you dare lie and say the decision wasn't yours to make."

"You just have no fucking clue, do you?" she exhaled loudly, her body tense and alert. Quietly, he began to stroke her hair again.

"I've been told that from time to time," Spike smiled slightly, his humour getting the better of him.

"You obviously never listened," Buffy grumbled without true hostility. Sighing, she grabbed his hands and wrapped them securely around her.

Chuckling, he leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. Startled at the gesture, he slowly pulled back.

"I think the rain ended," Spike sighed as he watched the shadows flicker about the young woman's face. Just beautiful.

"Yeah. I should probably go home, huh."

Spike nodded slowly, frowning as he felt the regret tear at his very heart as the Slayer rose to her feet. Now would be the time to tell her, he thought as he watched her slowly replace her torn skirt and clothing. He stood next to her, his eyes following every move of her body as she continued getting dressed. He could destroy her with a single word. No, not any magical word or word of power, but simply his own name.

His mouth opened and closed, but the word wouldn't come. She was just so beautiful standing there, her loving nature just seeming to flow off her body and echo through the air. Spike smiled briefly as he considered the possibility of her being a witch, for no woman has the right to enchant a man so much and so quickly.

"I..." Buffy began as she turned to face him in the pitch black. "Thank you. For listening. It probably bored you to death, but it meant a lot to me."

Spike shook his head as he reached out to caress her silken cheek. "No. That was truly my pleasure..."

The girl seemed to tremble as she stepped closer to the palid vampire.

"It may be stupid to say, but I trust you. I don't know how this will end, but right now, I trust you."

He felt as if he were struck through the heart as he watched the sincerity of her emotions flutter through those hazel eyes.

"Don't say that. Don't *ever* say that," he breathed as he pulled her by her arm closer to him. "Don't forget who I am."

But the girl just smiled as she kissed him briefly on his lips.

"I don't think I can."

Spike stood there, transfixed, as the small kiss registered upon his brain. He shook his head in disbelief as the woman stood there, just an arm's length away.

Fuck this, he thought as he pulled her into an embrace and pressed his lips against hers. Panting as he caressed her longingly, he deepened the kiss, tasting her mouth as if she were the most succulent delight he had ever had. He may regret this in a moment, but for now, all he could think of was touching her and kissing her until she fell into his arms.

He closed his eyes, savouring the perfection of the moment as he slowly pulled away. Buffy just stood there, her eyes dreamy and unfocused as he took a last opportunity to stroke her face.

"Slayer," he said as he walked towards the ancient mausoleum door. His heart almost felt as if it just spontaneously beated for the first time in a hundred years as he looked upon the girl's sweet beauty. "Buffy...don't loose this fight. Don't give up and don't give in. I want to see you skating, Buffy. I want to see you dancing on the ice. Don't let them tell you that you can't."

Buffy shook her head in confusion as she looked towards the shadow next to the door. "But..."

"No buts, Slayer. You can do it. Trust me," the vampire said as he quietly left the mausoleum and the girl behind.

The Chosen One stood there in the darkness, staring at the doorway with a sad, puzzled look upon her face as she listened to the retreating footfalls..

"I do. I do trust you. Whoever the hell you are."

PART EPILOGUE

A week later...

Spike gently stroked the beautiful face of his unconscious mate. Even in slumber, there was almost an animal magnetism about her.

"Dru... I finally got you back," he whispered as he spared his attention from the road to look down at the sleeping beauty. He would have never have guessed that this whole stay in Sunnydale would have ended this way, that Angelus would be currently fighting Buffy ... no, the Slayer to the death right now as he drove far away from the suburb.

"Maybe they'll kill each other, eh, Dru?" he asked quietly, forcing a smile onto his face even though he felt no joy at the outcome. He could still picture the young Slayer, her golden hair twirling in the light as she battled the older vampire to death. She would save the world, that he had no doubt, but he didn't think she'd survive.

She couldn't.

Spike frowned as he pushed his foot down on the gas.

Who was he fooling? he thought as he drove through the chaos of the California highways. Of course the Slayer would survive. No, she couldn't. No possible way, Spike corrected himself.

He slammed on the brakes, his tires squealing as he glanced back towards towards the manicured beauty of Sunnydale behind him. The girl can't survive, he thought as he slowly started the car once more, tempted to turn around.

Turn around and do what, you poof? he asked himself as he continued driving away. She'll die. You'll forget about her. And life will return to normal. You and Dru will be together forever and we'll all forget this ever happened.

Spike smiled wryly as he solemnly ran his fingers through Drusilla's raven mane. No, the scariest things in the world weren't sleeping demons who could send all life tumbling to hell, the vampire thought as his lips pulled into a frown, sometimes the scariest things were beautiful young girls with their soul-stealing smiles.

The vampire shook his head slowly, the confusion clouding his eyes as he continued driving on into the night.

The End

Back to Fiction: By Alpha ~ Back to Fiction: By Season