SOUL MATES
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This story takes place after “Wrecked.” This is my second attempt at fiction and a follow up to “Love Remembered.” Any comments/constructive criticism would be appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters and institutions depicted in this story are property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. No infringement of rights is intended
Chapter 1 - Sparring Partners
It had sounded like such fun: a little pain, some sweating, a bit of the ‘rough and tumble’. How could he have said ‘no’ to such a promising invite? But after having his ass kicked around the training room located behind the Magic Box for close to an hour, Spike was starting to wish that he’d stayed in bed that afternoon.
Earlier, when the Slayer had stopped by his crypt and asked him to spar with her, he’d been surprised; not by her presence in his lair-she often came around-but by her behavior toward him. She’d been nice.
It was a rarity that, sadly, had only lasted until he’d agreed to go. After that, she’d reverted back to treating him as she usually did-like he wasn’t a person. Of course he really wasn’t, but that was beside the point.
Even vampires had feelings. And his were, like the rest of his body, being beaten, pummeled and trampled on by the Slayer-and with such relish! Arguably, he could’ve hit back with his own superhuman strength, but unfortunately for him-he was in love with her.
And now, after being caught in the ear by a particularly nasty punch, he was hearing bells.
“Bloody hell!” Spike yelled, grimacing with exaggerated pain. He combed his fingers through his slightly mussed, platinum hair. Glaring, he angrily added “that hurt!”
Buffy glanced at the vampire, showing no sympathy. “Quit complaining Spike,” she said, leaping up and catching him in the chest with her foot. He staggered back but remained standing. “You know you like it,” she added with a smirk.
The vampire eyed her with contempt. “Yeah right!” he said. “Getting my ass dragged out of bed in the middle of the day to be your sodding punching bag. Not exactly my idea of fun!”
Ignoring his last remark, Buffy swung her fist, landing it solidly on his chin. His head jerked back and his body swayed but he didn’t fall. The Slayer’s lips curved upward with amusement. “Hey, you’re like a Weeble.”
Spike scowled. “A what?”
“You know - a Weeble.”
“Enlighten me!”
“Well-“ Buffy did a leaping kick, catching him in the abdomen. He fell back and landed with a thud on the mat.
The Slayer looked at him with feigned surprise. “Oh…guess I was wrong,” she said, shrugging. “Weebles wobble but they DON’T fall down.”
Spike lay back on the mat and closed his eyes. “That’s it. Practice over. I’m done!”
“Hey, it’s been less than an hour!” Buffy protested. She walked over to where he was lying and stared down at him with her hands on her hips. “Besides, I really need the workout. My training’s been pretty sucky ever since Giles left. Nobody wants to spar with me.”
Spike arched an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine why not,” he said sarcastically.
“Oh c’mon Spike.” Buffy said, offering her arm. “Like I said, I really need the work-“
In a fluid motion, Spike grabbed her hand, pulled her down, and rolled on top of her. “Actually, I had a different sort of workout in mind,” he said with a glint in his eye.
Using her Slayer force, Buffy pushed him away, causing him to slide across the mat. “Not gonna happen Spike!” she said firmly.
The vampire sighed and started to get up. “Have it your way, Slayer, but old Spike here is getting a bit tired of this game.”
* * *
Up front, in the Magic Box, Anya was counting the money in the cash register for the third time that day. Alhough she knew it wasn’t necessary to count it until after closing, it was a slow day and she liked the feel of the little green pieces of paper in her fingers. She even liked the way the bills smelled. She held them up to her nose, inhaling deeply.
She was sniffing a particularly aromatic fifty-dollar bill when she heard what sounded like a scream coming from the training room. Quickly, she put the money back in the cash register, closed it and headed toward the rear of the shop.
When she reached the training room door, she heard the sound again, only this time it was more like a squeal than a scream.
Curious, she pressed her ear against the door and heard what sounded like panting, then a muffled, rhythmic thumping noise. The thumping halted for a few seconds and she thought she heard someone whisper “Don’t stop.” Then it resumed for another minute or so until--there it was again - the same scream/squeal.
Anya reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge.
She pounded on the door. “Hey! What’re you guys doing in there?” she yelled.
There was a long silence and the ex-demon heard scurrying coming from inside.
She knocked even harder. “Buffy! Are you in there?”
More silence.
Finally, the Slayer emerged, appearing disheveled and breathless. Anya glanced past her and into the room where she saw Spike standing on the mat with his hand on his hip, looking amused. She immediately noticed that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Buffy suspiciously.
“Were you guys-“
“Sparring.” Buffy answered quickly before Anya could finish her question. “We were just sparring.” She tried to shut the door but the ex-demon pushed it back open and entered the room.
The magic shop owner persisted. “Didn’t sound like sparring to me,” she said, frowning. “Sounded more like-“
“Spike’s showing me some new moves,” Buffy interrupted. “Self defense tactics.” She looked over at the vampire, silently imploring him to back her up.
He smiled mockingly then turned to Anya. “Yeah, I was just showing Slayer here some new techniques for ah…escaping,” he explained. “You know, she starts off in a vulnerable position, like lying flat on her back on the floor here.” He gestured to the mat. “Then I pin her down and she tries to get me off of her…by uh, wriggling around a bit at first, then bumping me with her lower body like this…” He demonstrated a series of hip thrusts. “Then she, uh, gives me a tight squeeze, using those Slayer muscles of hers, until I, uh, eventually just can’t hold on anymore.” Spike glanced at Buffy, suppressing a grin.
Anya still didn’t look convinced. “Sure sounded like-“
“But it wasn’t…that.” Buffy laughed and waved her hand, dismissively.
Anya was still frowning. Although not satisfied with Buffy’s explanation, she turned to leave the room. She had the sudden urge to find Xander and spend some quality time with him alone in the stock room. She took a couple of steps toward the door, then stopped and spun around. “But why is he half naked and why was the door locked?”
Thinking quickly, Buffy replied “Spike’s only got a few good shirts. Didn’t want to accidentally rip any of them-“
“And these particular moves are top secret,” Spike added with a wink.
Still looking doubtful, the ex-demon left the Slayer alone with her sparring partner and went off to call Xander.
* * *
After the former demon was out of earshot, Buffy glared at a now fully clothed vampire and punched him hard on the arm. “What the hell was that?” she asked angrily.
Spike rubbed the stinging limb and glowered back at her. “Oww! That hurt!”
The Slayer threw her arms up in frustration. “You were practically telling her what we were doing!”
He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, if you hadn’t screamed…repeatedly, little miss Anyanka wouldn’t have come back here in the first place.”
“It’s just…” Buffy said, sounding exasperated. “I think she knows. I mean how could she not know?”
“Yeah, well we’re talking Anya here, pet,” the vampire replied, his voice a low purr. “The girl’s pretty clueless, if you ask me.” He gently rubbed the Slayer’s arm and began nuzzling her ear. “Besides, who cares if she knows. They’re all going to find out one day. It’s bound to happen if we keep this up.”
Buffy jerked out of his reach and frowned. “Well, maybe this just has to end.” Her voice got softer. “Right here and now. We’re done.” She looked up at him, chin tilted up. “I mean it this time.”
Reaching out, Spike laid both hands on the Slayer’s shoulders. He looked at her and managed a crooked smile. “No you don’t, luv,” he whispered. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. Then bowing his head down low, he touched his forehead to hers and caressed her cheek with his thumb.
Buffy gazed into Spike’s blue eyes, mesmerized. Her mouth opened slightly and she ran her tongue over the inside part of her bottom lip.
“Spike-“
He kissed her again, then looked back into her eyes. “I’ve got to go, luv,” he said, his voice now husky. “But, there’s something I need to talk to you about later.” He stared at her unblinkingly. “Will you come by my crypt this evening?”
Speechless, Buffy nodded in response. The vampire leaned over to kiss her one more time before heading out the door.
Chapter 2 - Tryst
Spike sat on the stone sarcophagus and lit another cigarette. He’d been chain smoking for almost an hour-waiting for nightfall. The light shining through the stained glass window of the large tomb he called home had become a soft glow. “It won’t be long now,” he murmured.
The vampire thought of Buffy and imagined her going through some sort of inner turmoil, trying to decide if she would honor his request with her presence or not.
His lips curled into a knowing smile: She’d be there. She couldn’t resist her one guilty pleasure.
He blew out a long stream of smoke then threw the cigarette on the stone floor, angrily grinding it under his boot.
He immediately lit another cigarette, but just held it in his hand, distracted.
Spike couldn’t help but feel frustrated whenever he thought of the Slayer. He figured he now understood how Riley, her commando ex-boyfriend, must have felt…to be so close to her, yet never really have her. Like Riley, he couldn’t offer her all that she needed. Although he had the darkness that she secretly craved and that her ex had lacked, he didn’t have a soul. He wondered if the chip in his head and the love he felt could ever make up for that missing piece of humanity.
He took a drag from his cigarette, looked up at the ceiling and slowly exhaled, watching the smoke rise and gradually dissipate. He then closed his eyes and tried to remember some of the horrors he’d committed in the last hundred years: men, women and children slaughtered mercilessly. The things he’d done, the images he recalled… They would’ve caused any man…any human to be overcome with guilt.
He opened his eyes and sadly shook his head. No, it was always the same. He could feel no remorse - only emptiness.
* * *
Buffy sat on her back porch, quietly stewing about the steamy ‘workout’ she’d engaged in with her sparring partner earlier that day. His approach had been obvious and unoriginal, entirely predictable-yet highly successful. Her counterattack, on the other hand, had started out strong, but had quickly faded, and had ultimately been ineffective. She pursed her lips, thinking about the encounter.
And she was supposed to see him again tonight.
Sighing, she looked up at the dusky sky, which was becoming a beautiful watercolor of pinks and oranges mixing with the darkening blue. It would be evening soon. Her lips curled reflexively into a warm, anticipatory smile as she thought of visiting the vampire’s lair.
Her smile became a frown as she realized the inappropriateness of her thoughts.
‘Stop it! You’re not going!’
Part of her, the part that resided deep down in her psyche, snorted derisively. ‘Yeah, right!’ it seemed to say.
‘Well, I…’ Buffy watched as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the trees and rooftops. Her expression remained calm, but in her lap, her clenched fists betrayed her inner struggle.
‘Aw, c’mon luv,’ she could almost hear Spike say, ‘you know you want to.’
‘Damn!’ He was right-even when he was just a figment of her imagination.
‘Well, maybe…’ She would go there to talk-to set him straight. Standing up, she took one last look at the fading California sunset: darkness was winning; day was becoming night. She hurried into the house to get ready.
* * *
Buffy arrived at Spike’s crypt less than an hour later. She hesitated for a moment and contemplated leaving, but as if on their volition, her hands pushed the door open and her feet moved forward into the vampire’s lair. The air in the tomb was thick with cigarette smoke, causing the Slayer to wrinkle her nose in disgust.
“What did you do - smoke a truckload of cigarettes?” she asked, fanning her hand in front of her face.
Spike glanced at the cigarette in his hand and threw it on the floor.
“Sorry luv.”
He walked over to Buffy, put his arm around her and steered her to the ladder leading to the lower level of his lair.
“The air should clearer down there,” he said, gesturing to the room below.
Against her better judgement, Buffy climbed down the ladder and stepped into the vampire’s sleeping quarters. Spike followed, barely making a sound as he leaped from the middle rung and landed just inches behind her. Showing a lack of restraint that stemmed from having waited hours for her arrival, he quickly grabbed her around the waist and encircled her in his arms.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Slayer,” he murmured into her hair. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, sending a pleasant tingling sensation down to the lower parts of her body. He turned her around to face him and kissed her lovingly.
“All day.”
Buffy immediately noticed that the vampire tasted like a combination of toothpaste and cigarettes and he smelled of soap and smoke. She imagined him getting ready for their ‘meeting’ tonight. Had he considered this a date? She clamped her mouth shut, ending the kiss. It was definitely not…that!
Pushing him away, she stumbled backward into the room and ended up sitting down hard on the bed, which had been neatly made up. Spike smiled seductively and seated himself next to her. He casually tried to put his hand on her knee, but she batted it away.
“I came here to talk,” she told him, keeping her eyes averted.
“Right,” the vampire said, sounding skeptical. He gestured to a bottle of wine and pair of crystal glasses set up on the nightstand. “Would you like some wine, luv?” he asked, playing the hospitable host.
“No thanks,” she replied quietly. She knew, based on prior experience, that alcohol of any sort was a bad idea, especially when she was with Spike.
She glanced at him and bit her bottom lip. He looked undeniably handsome in a new shirt, and the candlelight seemed to warm his strong, chiseled features. ‘Oh, no you don’t!’ she thought, scolding herself. Spike had gone to a lot of trouble with the whole seduction scene that night, but she was determined to be firm.
“Right,” Spike said again.
He was silent for a moment.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m…going away for a bit,” he said finally.
The Slayer’s brows furrowed.
“Going away,” she said, almost to herself. “Where?”
Spike smiled wistfully. “To London,” he said. “There’s something I need to look into.”
“When?”
“Tonight. I’m catching the red-eye,” he replied. “I’ve got a friend, and I use the term loosely, who set it up for me: IDs, tickets, hotel even. You’d be surprised with what one can do with a computer and a stolen credit card statement.”
Spike looked as if he was about say something more but stopped. He started to reach for his cigarettes but ended up putting his hand on Buffy’s knee. This time she didn’t bat it away.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “What could you possibly need to do in London?”
Spike hesitated. “Remember when you said my father looked like a Watcher?”
She nodded, recalling having seen the man’s portrait during their recent trip to the past.
“I think you might’ve been onto something,” he said. He went on to explain about the night he’d risen from the grave and how he‘d encountered his father waiting for him with a wooden cross and stake. He told her that his father had almost killed him, but had let him escape at the last minute. He’d wondered how his father could’ve known that he would become a vampire. It got him thinking about his father’s odd habits and about the fact that the older man had spent so much time at the bookstore he owned, even after it was closed.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter. I mean it happened over a century ago…water under the bridge, you know. But it’s been bothering me and I just want to learn the truth.”
“You could have been a Watcher,” Buffy murmured.
Spike nodded. “Yeah, I could have been one of the good guys.”
He smiled, but his eyes seemed sad.
“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know…that I was going to be gone for a while.”
He paused and looked at her intently. “Not that you’d care, of course. Just thought…”
He shrugged.
Buffy looked up at him and frowned. She didn’t want him to go.
She reached up and touched his face. His skin was smooth and cool like stone. Her fingers moved to his mouth and she thought about the things he did to her with his lips and tongue. She looked into his eyes, hiding nothing.
* * *
Seeing the Slayer’s unspoken invitation, Spike leaned over and kissed her. His lips gently trailed down to her neck and lingered at her throat. With much restraint, he savored the soft warmth of her skin and the rhythmic pounding of her pulse.
Feeling the demon awakening inside of him, he moved his attention away from her throat. Kissing her urgently, he pushed her down on the bed and covered her body with his. Skillful fingers explored the area hidden beneath her skirt, making her squirm and cry out. The Slayer’s arms curled around his upper back and tightened.
As they made love for the second time in less than a day, Spike relished the heat that only Buffy invoked in him. He closed his eyes and imagined the blood pumping through his veins and arteries and what it was like to be alive again. The feeling was marred though, by the knowledge that when their lovemaking ended, he would be cold once more.
* * *
Several hours later, Buffy awoke to find herself alone in Spike’s bed. She sat up and a chill ran through her as she realized that the vampire was probably on a plane to London by now. She wanted to be relieved that he was gone but instead felt--lost.
She looked down at his pillow, seeing a single red rose and a folded note. She picked up the note and a plane ticket slipped out. Curious, she examined the ticket and discovered that it was in her name - a round trip ticket to London.
She stared at the note, immediately noticing the delicate, elegant penmanship - William’s writing. Quickly, she read the message.
Buffy,
I wanted to ask you tonight, but knew you’d say no. I’ve been holding this ticket for quite a while, waiting for the right moment. It didn’t come. Anyway, I just remembered how happy you looked when you were in London-during our little trip to the past. The whole Watcher thing was just an afterthought. This is for you in case you decide you need to escape for a bit. The itinerary has the name of my hotel and the number where you can reach me.
Yours always,
Spike
Buffy picked up the rose and inhaled its faintly sweet scent. The flower was slightly wilted and the petals had started to blacken around the edges. She imagined the vampire stealing it from a grave just after a funeral and couldn’t help but smile.
‘God,’ she thought, ‘for an evil, dead guy, he actually is kind of sweet.’
Lips still curved upward, she lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes.
Chapter 3 - Something About Buffy
Spike glanced up and saw sunlight filtering through the trees. The narrow rays touched his face-they felt warm but didn’t burn. He then looked at Buffy, held tightly in his arms. She smiled at him, then slowly broke free of his embrace.
Taking his hand, she led him through the forest. He heard the faint gurgle of a stream somewhere close and soon spotted the source of the sound-an opening in the woods up ahead. But upon reaching the clearing, Spike held back, afraid to leave the shade. He let go of the Slayer’s hand as she continued on without pausing.
She turned and beckoned for him to join her. “Spike, don’t you want us to be together?” she asked, sounding strangely far away.
“You know I do,” he whispered in response. He gazed at her and his eyes grew wide-she appeared to be glowing in the bright daylight. She looked just like an angel.
Hesitantly, he walked up to her and pulled her close. He bent down and kissed her, gentle and slow. Buffy’s arms came up and encircled him in a tight embrace-he couldn’t move. He felt a sudden pain as the sunlight began to burn his skin. Shocked, he looked at the girl in his arms, who only smiled up at him.
“Slayer,” he said sounding incredulous. “I think you’ve finally killed me.”
Spike awoke with a start. “Bloody hell,” he cursed, staring at his smoking hand.
Although sitting in an aisle seat, rays of direct sunlight had reached him through the nearest window. Spike quickly moved away from the light and rubbed his burned skin. He warily glanced around the Boeing 757 to see if anyone had noticed.
A six-year old girl was staring at him, wide eyed. Spike scowled.
“What’re you looking at kid?” he asked.
The little girl’s eyes remained wide and she swallowed hard before speaking. “Mr….” She gulped. “Are you a vam-pie-yer?”
Spike sneered. “How do you know about vampires?”
“From T.V.”
“Oh, you mean like ‘the Count’ from Sesame Street.”
The little girl giggled. “The Count!? He’s not real! Duh!”
“Duh?” Spike frowned.
“Hey, can you do that thing with your face?”
“How do you know about that?” Spike’s eyes narrowed.
The little girl shrugged. “My Mom watches ‘Bitsy the Vampire Killer.’”
Spike glanced at the sleeping woman seated next to the child. “She does, huh?”
“Yeah. So can you do it?” The girl asked, looking excited.
Spike rolled his eyes. “Alright, but you have stop yapping about it.” He glanced around to make sure no one was looking then closed his eyes and concentrated. Almost immediately, his human features were replaced with the evil visage of his demon side. For effect, he sneered menacingly at the child before quickly changing back.
The girl’s eyes got even wider. “Kewwl!” she said, obviously impressed.
She moved over to the empty seat next to his. “Hey, do you know any good stories?”
“Aren’t you scared of me?” Spike said, trying to sound sinister.
“Nah, you seem like a nice vam-pie-yer. I can tell.”
“Yeah, well…I guess I am,” he said resignedly.
Spike looked down at her and shrugged. “Actually, there is this one story I know about a girl, a little younger than you, who was hiding in a coal bin…”
* * *
On her way home from a particularly rousing women’s studies class at U.C. Sunnydale, Willow decided to stop by the Magic Box and say “hi” to her friends. She arrived there about five minutes after closing and found the store empty except for the owner and her fiance.
“Hey guys,” she said, glancing first at Xander, seated at the research table and then Anya, who was busy closing out the cash register.
“Damn! I’m still off by thirteen cents!” the ex-demon said, frowning. She started to recount the pennies.
“Uh, honey. I think you can give it up now.” Xander commented, looking at his fiscally obsessed bride-to-be with growing impatience. “You’ve what, counted it like five times already?”
“Actually, six…but I’m short!” Anya replied, sounding exasperated. “That means that someone must’ve walked off with my thirteen cents!”
“Oh, I’ve got some spare change,” Willow offered, reaching into her purse to find some coins. She counted out exactly thirteen cents.
“Here you go,” the Wiccan said, handing over the coins. “If this will buy you some peace of mind, then I say money well spent!” She then walked over to the research table and sat down next to Xander.
Anya looked at the money in her hand a little doubtfully, then shrugged and put it in the cash register. She then pulled out the day’s sales, put it in a zippered pouch and headed for the back of the store to the safe.
Willow smiled at Xander. “So…what’s up?” she asked, her tone light.
“There’s something going on that we really need to talk about,” Xander said, sounding serious.
“What do you mean?” Willow shrugged. “If it’s about my magic, I’ve been totally not doing any. I’ve got everything under-“
“It’s not about you,” Xander said, cutting her off. “It’s something about Buffy.”
“Buffy?” Willow asked, sounding surprised. “Is she okay?”
Xander shook his head, “I’m thinking the answer to that would be no,” he said, then paused. “Have you noticed anything unusual about Buffy lately? Like her keeping weird hours…or being kind of top secret about things?”
“No,” Willow answered, her brow furrowed. “I mean she’s the Slayer - her hours are always kind of weird, you know? And as for the secretive part…I don’t know. I mean she’s been kind of distant ever since we brought her back, but I think she’s getting better. It just takes time.”
“Well…“ Xander began. He paused and looked up as Anya entered the room. She sat down next to him and patted his hand.
The ex-demon leaned forward and looked Willow straight in the eye. “What Xander’s trying to say,” she said in her usual no-nonsense manner. “Is that Buffy and Spike have been…” She made a circle with her left hand and stuck her right index finger through it repeatedly.
Willow eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She was speechless for a moment. “What?” she gasped.
“Yeah,” Anya continued matter-of-factly. “They were having intercourse. I’m sure of it.”
“Huh?” Willow still looked confused.
“It was yesterday…in the training room.” Anya shrugged. “She said they were sparring. Yeah, right! I heard them…thumping!” She banged her palm against the tabletop repeatedly. “Thump, thump, thump, thump-“
“Okay! I get the picture!” Willow said, raising her hand for Anya to stop.
But the ex-demon wasn’t done yet. “And she kept screaming…again and again!” she continued.
“He made her scream?” Xander said, sounding concerned. “You didn’t tell me she screamed! Was he hurting her?”
“No!” Anya replied, looking at her fiance as if he were mentally challenged. “It wasn’t that sort of scream. It was more like a…you know, a ’Yes! Yes! Yes!’ kind of scream, except it was nonverbal.”
“Oh.” A look of understanding crossed Xander’s face.
“I can’t believe it,” Willow said, shaking her head. “I mean, what could she be thinking?”
“Well, she’s obviously not…thinking…with her head, anyway,” Xander said angrily.
“Yeah, she’s thinking with her…” Anya frowned, searching for the correct word.
Her fiance then scowled. “I think I know the word you’re looking for,” he said. “You know, female body part…rhymes with Delores.”
“Oh my God!” Willow said, stunned. “We’ve got to do something!”
Chapter 4 - Kiss and Tell
It was a slow night at the Sunnydale cemetery. Buffy had only come across one vamp-a newly risen banker who’d barely lasted two seconds before turning to dust--hardly a challenge.
Sighing, the Slayer continued walking among the gravestones, absently swinging her arms at her sides like a little girl. Her heart just wasn’t in it tonight. Although she hated to admit it, she missed Spike. The vampire had accompanied her on patrols almost every night since her resurrection and it was just too quiet without him.
She missed his cynical humor, his ‘big bad’ attitude, and even his overzealous approach to killing demons. He almost made slaying seem ‘fun’.
But it wasn’t just that, and she knew it. And besides the obvious physical attraction, she missed other things about him as well. Like the way he looked at her so many different ways-with admiration, wistfulness, lust, longing, and sometimes she thought she really saw love in his eyes. But it couldn’t be that. She knew it just couldn’t.
And now he was gone. And that was good. He was thousands of miles away. He couldn’t touch her. And that was good-right?
She frowned. Somehow, it didn’t feel that way.
She thought about the ticket to London, lying on top of her dresser at home. She’d stared at it for a long time the previous night, wondering what it would be like to go. If only…
But she knew she couldn’t go. Spike was evil. She had to remind herself of that.
Being with Spike was wrong. What they did together was wrong. If her friends ever found out-she couldn’t bear the thought of having to face them. They’d never understand. How could they?
Sighing again, Buffy decided to go home. It was late. She was tired.
And although Spike was far away, she knew, he’d never been closer.
* * *
After several tries, the exhausted vampire finally managed to open the door to his room. He put the card key in the pocket of his leather duster and threw his duffel on the comfortable-looking chair next to the window. Glancing around his posh surroundings, he thought to himself that Buffy would’ve approved. The hotel dated back to the Victorian era and was beautifully furnished in a style that matched the period. He reflected that it was a bit like revisiting the past again.
Spike took off his coat and hung it in the wardrobe. He then went to his bag and transferred blood packets from a small insulated container to the mini-refrigerator. He’d only brought a half dozen pouches and planned to check out the local scene the following evening to get more. He remembered to put up the “do not disturb” sign and went to the door to take care of it.
Although too tired to unpack, Spike went through his duffel again, pulling out a picture of Buffy that he’d taken from her basement almost a year before. He smiled as he looked at the girlish image in the school photo.
“Good night luv,” he said, carefully propping it up on the bedside table. The weary traveler then lay down and turned off the light. He fell asleep almost instantly.
* * *
It was after eleven o’clock by the time Buffy arrived home. She was surprised to see that most of the lights in the house were still on. As she fumbled with her keys, she could hear Xander and Anya talking in the living room. They were speaking in lowered voices with urgent undertones.
When she finally swung the door open and stepped into the foyer, three somber faces stared up at her. There was an uncomfortable silence before she spoke.
“What’s going on? Is there something wrong?” she asked, her gaze went from Willow, to Xander and finally to Anya. She immediately thought of her teenage sister who had been continuously getting into trouble lately.
“Is Dawn okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic. “Where’s Dawn?”
Willow spoke first. “Dawn’s fine. She’s upstairs.”
Buffy frowned. “Then what’s going on? Why all the gloomy faces?”
Xander nodded to Willow, who then nervously cleared her throat. “We’re concerned about you Buffy,” she said.
The Slayer smiled nervously. “I’m fine. I don’t-“
“Buff, we know about you and Spike,” Xander interrupted.
Buffy shrugged. “Me and Spike?” She glared at Anya before turning to Xander. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The ex-demon spoke up. “I’m not stupid, you know. I could tell what you and Spike were doing yesterday in the training room.”
“We were sparring - that’s all,” the Slayer said, her voice rising a pitch.
“You were having sex!” Anya replied, testily. “You were thumping…and screaming…and he was half naked!”
“Anya…” Xander began, putting a cautioning hand on his fiance’s shoulder.
Buffy opened her mouth to say something but Willow spoke first. “Buffy, we’re your friends,” the Wiccan said. “We want to help you, but you have to be honest with us.”
Buffy looked at her three friends uncertainly. “Suppose it’s true,” she said softly. “Suppose that Spike and I are…” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m an adult and what I do in my private life is just that - my private life.”
“Buff, like Willow said, we’re your friends and we care about you,” Xander said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Spike’s bad news - always has been, always will be. You, of all people, should know this.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Buffy,” he continued. “I mean, I’m guessing it has something to do with the whole resurrection thing. I know it can’t be easy for you. And maybe it seems like none of us have been here for you, lately…but we are. We’re your friends - always will be.”
Buffy paused before speaking. “I understand you guys are trying to help…and I appreciate that,” she said. “This whole thing with Spike-I can’t explain it myself. I mean, I’ve been fighting this for a really long time. But, it’s no use-I’m just drawn to him, like that whole moth to flame thing. I know it’s wrong, but…”
“Buffy, you’re not in love with him, are you?” Willow asked, her brow furrowed.
“No,” Buffy responded immediately, then frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know. Spike and I have this connection. Maybe it’s always been there. Even when he was evil and we were trying to kill each other-he’s always seemed to understand me. He just gets me somehow.”
“He’s still evil, Buffy,” Willow said quietly. “That chip in his head-you know it doesn’t make him good. If it were to ever stop working, he’d be right back to his old tricks. And where would that leave you? It’d be like Angel becoming Angelus all over again. You’d have to kill him.”
“Buffy, You need to end this now,” Xander added gravely. “The longer it goes on, the harder it’s going to be.”
The Slayer nodded almost imperceptibly as she made a decision. “I think I’ve finally figured out what I have to do,” she said.
Willow attempted a smile. “Good. I knew you would.”
Buffy glanced around the room. “I need to got to London--to be with Spike,” she said, sounding very determined. “So I can get him out of my system.”
Willow’s mouth hung open and she glanced at Xander. “London? Buffy…that wasn’t exactly the plan we had in mind. Actually, we were thinking, uh, avoidance--”
“It’s the only way,” the Slayer replied firmly. “I’ve already tried the whole avoidance thing and it doesn’t work. I can’t fight this anymore. I need to face this-and see it through.”
“But, Buffy-“ Willow protested.
“Spike once told me that he was ‘in my system’,” the Slayer continued, ignoring her friend. “He said that I would ‘crave him like he craves blood’ and he was right.” She shook her head. “He’s always so annoyingly right!”
“But Buff, what do you think you’re going to do?” Xander asked, “You can’t just go over there to…“
Buffy gave Xander a cold stare. “I’m going to do what I have to…to get him out of my system,” she replied quietly. “Spike’s in London. He left last night. That’s where I need to be.”
“But, you just can’t-“ Willow began.
Buffy sighed. “Since he left, it’s like he’s all I think about. I thought that I’d be better off with him gone-you know, ‘out of sight, out of mind’? But, it’s not like that…not at all. You guys just have to trust me. I may not be sure of what I’m doing but I think, in this case, I have to go with my instincts.”
Willow frowned. “But what about Dawn? You just can’t leave her.”
“I need to talk to her. I think she’ll understand.” She turned to Willow. “But, I’m going to need your help…taking care of Dawn while I’m gone. As my friends, this is what I need for all of you to do.”
Anya shook her head and frowned. “It’ll never work,” she muttered. “I mean, it’s kind of like what I tried to do with Xander in the beginning. I thought I would just have sex with him that one time. But then one time led to another…and another…and another and so on.” She glanced at her fiance. “And now look at us!”
Chapter 5 - London
On his second night in London, Spike wandered the city’s seedier parts until he reached a bar he’d frequented in the past. He looked up at a weathered old sign hanging from rusty hinges that read “The Hellhound Pub.” It had a picture of a menacing black dog with red eyes that actually glowed.
Spike pressed his face against the bar’s plate glass window, but couldn’t see anything through the excessive grime.
“My kind of place,” he muttered as he pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the pub.
He looked around the run-down establishment and saw that it was practically deserted. Several shady-looking characters sat up at the bar while a few others were seated at tables near the back.
Spike headed for the bar and seated himself next to a stout vampire with dark brown hair, cropped short like Julius Ceasar. A thick, carpet-like strip hung over his eyes and set off his large, protruding brow bone. The stocky vampire turned his head toward the newcomer and grunted.
Spike acknowledged the demon, then focused his attention on a surly-looking human standing on the other side of the counter. “Barkeep!” he said, feeling impatient for a drink.
The bartender turned to Spike. “What’ll it be Mate?” he growled.
“Scotch, neat,” the vampire replied, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out a ten as the bartender slammed his drink on the counter top. The man scowled as he looked at Spike’s American currency.
“That money’s no good here, Mate,” the liquor server barked. “You’re in England now.”
“Well, it’s all I got,” Spike explained. He was cursing himself for not having exchanged some of his American currency earlier.
The bartender started to pull the drink away, but the stocky vampire seated next to Spike stopped him. “This one’s on me, Mate,” the bloodsucker said, sliding some money to the barkeep. He then turned to Spike and grinned, showing off two rows of very bad teeth, blackened by years of neglect as a human.
Although repulsed by the stench of the vamp’s breath, Spike smiled back, keeping his composure. He lifted his drink and nodded at the generous stranger. “Thanks. I owe you one,” he said.
The stranger nodded back. “Name’s Eddie,” he said and took a long swig from his mug.
“Spike,” the Sunnydale resident responded.
Eddie’s face suddenly contorted into what looked like rage. “Spike?” he bellowed. Spike leaned away apprehensively, fearful that his reputation as a demon-killer had preceded him.
“THE Spike?” Eddie continued. “Also known as ‘William the Bloody’?” A wide grin spread over his boorish face.
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” Spike responded hesitantly.
“Why, you’re a bleedin’ legend in these parts!” Eddie laughed robustly and slammed Spike on the back with his open palm. “I can’t believe me luck! Sittin’ next to the famous Spike! The biggest bad that London ‘as ever known!”
Spike was speechless. He opened his mouth to say something but Eddie cut him off.
“Is it true, mate? What they say ‘bout you?” Eddie’s furry brows shot up, almost reaching his short-cropped bangs. “They say you’re a fearless bloke. Not ‘fraid of anythin’ - even the Slayer! Say you came face to face with two of ‘em and killed ‘em both.” Spike’s new friend leaned in closer and looked him in the eye. “So tell me, is it true?”
Spike smiled and pulled out a cigarette. “Yeah, it’s true.”
Eddie’s beady eyes widened. “Whoa, mate. How’d ya do it?” he asked. “D’ya ‘ave time to humor an old bloke like me with a story or two?”
Spike took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a stream of smoke, hoping to kill some of the stench from Eddie’s breath. “Yeah, sure,” he said, smiling at his awestruck companion. He thought to himself that he was becoming quite the storyteller. “I’ve got lots of time…”
* * *
“Last call mates!” the bartender announced, glowering at the two vampires seated at the bar. They were the pubs only remaining patrons.
Spike glanced at his watch. “Look at the time!” he said, smiling over at his new-found friend. “I appreciate your spotting me for drinks tonight. I promise to pay you back as soon as I get some of my money changed.”
Eddie waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, no! It’s on me tonight, mate!” he said. “It’s been quite an honor just meetin’ ya!”
“Well, then I’m treating next time, okay?”
Eddie chortled and thumped Spike hard on the back. “It’s a bloody deal, mate!” he replied.
“By the way,” Spike said, suddenly remembering the reason he’d come into the bar in the first place. “I need to find out where a bloke can get some blood around here…when not feasting on the locals, that is. Any suggestions?”
“Ah, I see you’re not only a brave chap but also a smart one,” Eddie said, tapping his index finger to his temple. “Me…I’ve almost given up feedin’ on humans. ‘aven’t killed a man in quite a while. It’s too dangerous ‘ere, with the Watchers’ Council and all. If they see our numbers are gettin’ too large…too many people gettin’ killed or disappearin’…they’ll send for the Slayer, they will.”
“Is that right?” Spike asked, surprised to hear Eddie mention Buffy.
“Yeah, they say she’s a tough one, the Slayer…and quite a looker too.” Eddie leered.
“Eh, she’s okay,” Spike admitted grudgingly. “If you go for the type. You know, bouncy blond hair, a bit on the thin side…”
“So, you’ve seen her…and lived to tell about it,” the stout vampire said.
“Yeah, the Slayer and I have an understanding,” Spike explained smugly. “She let’s me do as I please, and I don’t kill her. But she’s a fixture in Sunnydale, as far as I know. They don’t like her straying from the Hellmouth much.”
“Yeah well, lately we’ve ‘ad some problems here in London with certain bands of young ‘ens…too wild, these ones,” Eddie said grimly, “There’s been some talk that the Council may send for the Slayer to thin the herd a bit.” He shrugged. “Hopefully, it’s talk.”
“I’m sure that’s the case,” Spike said. He noticed the bartender glaring at them and cleared his throat. “Now, about the blood…”
“Yeah, sure mate,” Eddie replied. “There’s this butcher shop a couple blocks east of here. A human named Nate runs it. He caters to us vamps. Got the best selection in London; pig’s blood, cow’s blood, human even.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, he gets people off the street to donate blood--pays ‘em cash. Human blood’s kinda pricey though. And I would steer clear of cow’s blood, with the whole ‘mad cow’ thing goin’ on. Wouldn’t want your brain turnin’ into Swiss cheese, now would we?” Eddie said, winking.
Spike frowned. “Can vampires get that?”
“Don’t know, mate. But I wouldn’t want to find out the hard way,” Eddie replied, shrugging.
He and Eddie finished off their drinks and headed out the door.
“It’s been a real pleasure Spike!” Eddie said, giving the duster-clad vampire a thump on the back. “Hope to be runnin’ into ya real soon!”
“Yeah, likewise,” Spike replied. The two demons exited the pub and went in opposite directions.
* * *
Spike smiled as he walked away from the pub. It was the first time in a while that he‘d been able to enter a demon bar without having someone threaten his life. His alliance with the Slayer had made him very unpopular with the evil crowd in Sunnydale.
He rounded a corner and nearly collided with three individuals.
“Watch where you’re going, you bloody moron!” a leather-clad vampire said, scowling.
Spike glanced at the trio. There were two young-looking vampires-probably the wild types Eddie had mentioned. Sandwiched between them was a human boy who appeared no more than twelve years old. The child looked scared, but unharmed, as far as Spike could tell. ‘Walk away, Spike,’ he told himself.
The boy looked up at him. “Please…Sir,” he said, his voice trembling.
His two captors laughed and pushed the boy forward. “You’ll get no help from him,” the one dressed in leather said. “’Cept maybe a quicker death.” They laughed again.
Spike glared at the twosome and walked past them. ‘Keep moving Spike,’ he told himself. After taking several more steps, he stopped. ‘Don’t do it!’ He turned around. ‘Don’t--’ He cleared his throat loudly.
“You two!” he heard himself say. “Let the boy go.”
The vampires spun around and stared at him defiantly. “Sod off! This one’s ours!” Leather said.
Looking annoyed, Spike exhaled impatiently. “I said, Let. Him. Go.”
“No bleedin’ way!” Leather spat back. He took a couple steps toward Spike and cocked his chin up defiantly. “Back off now and I’ll let you live.”
“Oh, is that right?” Spike sneered. He lunged forward, grabbed Leather by the throat and threw him onto the street.
The vampire quickly sprung to his feet and charged at Spike, pushing him to the ground. The two wrestled for less than a minute before one of them turned to ashes. The surviving demon stood up and brushed the soot from his duster. He looked over at Leather’s friend and smirked.
The friend shoved the boy out of his way and took off running. Spike easily chased him down and staked him before he’d made it to the corner. He then headed back to where the child was standing, shaken but unhurt.
“You okay kid?” Spike asked. The boy stared at him with wide eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”
Spike scanned his surroundings for any other Big Bads that may have been lurking around and possibly witnessed his uncharacteristically heroic act. He saw that the block was deserted except for a lone figure standing under a lamppost across the street. He squinted at the individual-a girl, dressed in a black coat with long dark hair. Her face was small and familiar. Spike shook his head.
‘It couldn’t be,’ he thought.
“Sir?” the boy said, tugging on Spike’s sleeve.
The vampire glanced down at him. “Just a minute kid,” he said. He looked back to where the girl had stood a moment before…but she wasn’t there. He scanned the neighboring area for any indication of where she could’ve gone, but there was no sign of her.
Spike frowned and turned back to the child. “Let’s get you to someplace safe,” he said, putting a protective arm around the boy’s shoulders. He then took the child to a less demon-infested part of town.