Lose Your Way
Written and performed by Sophie B. Hawkins
I have no confidence
And I can't see why I should
But I could do most anything for you
And you know I would
I try too hard and
Then I give up way too easily
I'm the runner-up inside of you
And you're the winner inside of me
(chorus)
Lose your way
And I will follow
Here today
And here tomorrow
Like my freedom I know
I’ll never let you go
I still wish on the evening star
And I s’pose I always will
Every child loses something
A whole life can’t fulfill
And when you cry I feel the sky
Burst open in my veins
If loving you makes a slave of me
Then I'll spend my whole life in chains
Lose your way
And I will follow
Here today
And here tomorrow
Like my freedom I know
I’ll never let you go.
Walk the line
I’ll walk inside you
Change your mind
Let your love decide you
It’s the reason I know
You’ll never let me go
Never let me go.
Lose your way
And I will follow
Here today
And here tomorrow
Like my freedom I know
I’ll never let you go.
Walk the line
I'll walk inside you
Change your mind,
Let your love decide you
It's the reason I know
You'll never let me go.
Buffy made her way through rows of tombstones. A stake that Xander had whittled for her was firmly clutched in one hand. She was dressed in standard slaying attire…a pair of tight fitting jeans and a long sleeve shirt. An oversized leather duster fell to the petite slayer’s ankles. Its familiar aroma provided comfort for the Slayer on lonely nights of patrolling. It had been four months since the owner of the leather duster had worn it. Still, the duster carried his scent. The scent of cigarette smoke, a cool night breeze, and the faint lingering of vanilla--her scent. The scent that had become part of his just as the Vampire’s leather duster had become a trademark Buffy coat. The Slayer made herself comfortable on a tombstone of the Apple family and thought back to the first time she had seen the coat’s owner wearing his duster. The first time she had fallen in love.
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The Slayer patrolled Mount Sharon cemetery. The night was dead….literally. It had been slow the past couple of weeks. Partly due to the approach of summer, which always meant that vampire’s tended to migrate to places that stayed darker longer, and partly because just a few weeks before the slayer had defeated a master. News of her victory had sent fledglings running, and deterred many vamps from entering LA.
Buffy took a seat on top of a random tombstone, waiting for a sign of unlife. It came in the form of him.
“Well hello love,” A deep voice coming from behind the slayer said. Buffy hopped off the tombstone she had been sitting on and whipped her head around so that she was facing the voice. “Out for a stroll?” The owner of the voice questioned conversationally.
He was gorgeous. Even knowing that he was a demon the slayer couldn’t help but admire him. His hair was bleached blonde, so light it was almost white, his cerulean blue eyes matched the hair perfectly, offsetting its pale color. Buffy’s eyes moved downwards and stared at the vampire’s well defined cheekbones. His abs, hidden beneath a flowing leather duster and tight black shirt were obviously well defined, as were his arms. The vampire wore loose fitting back jeans and combat boots. A cigarette dangling from between pale, pink lips completed the ensemble. But it was more than just his sleek body that Buffy found herself drawn too. The vampire radiated power. It wafted off him as if traveling with the cloud of cigarette smoke that he blew. The slayer’s musing was interrupted when the vampire spoke.
“So are you going to stare all night love, or are we going to fight?” Spike asked conversationally. However, in truth he didn’t mind the slayer’s staring one bit, as he had been doing the same. He wasn’t confused by his reaction to the petite blonde. It was perfectly normal. He hadn’t been with a woman since Drusillia, his dark goddess, and the slayer was pretty enough. Blonde hair fell in waves below her shoulders, framing an angelic face complete with hazel eyes and slightly rosy cheeks. However, he was tired of looking. Rumors of the slayer’s power had traveled all the way to England, where Spike had been staying. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered listening to the talk. However, tales of his slayer intrigued him. It was rare that a slayer with only one year of experience survived a fight with a master vampire. Hell, it was rare that a slayer lasted a year. A feat that Spike was certain he would end on this night.
“So, what’s your name?” Buffy asked the vampire, getting into fighting position and watching as the demon did the same. Tossing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot.
“Does it really matter? Unless, that is, you’re planning to say goodbye to me before you die. And in that case, you can call me Spike,” The bleached blonde answered.
“Spike…well that names a real winner,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“Can we get to the fighting all ready, love? You see it’s not that I don’t love the banter. It’s just that I came here with the intention of finishing you off and returning to merry old England. And as you can see,” Spike said, looking towards the quickly lightening sky,” it’s going to be sunrise soon. I’d hate to turn to ashes right after I drain you.”
“Not a problem. You can turn to ashes now,” The slayer said. And that was that. The banter portion of the fight was over and the slayer lunged at Spike with all the strength she possessed at this hour of the morning.
Spike was surprised. He had expected the fight to be over quickly. After all, he was a one hundred twenty master vampire. Not the oldest, but certainly quite powerful…especially considering his age. However, the slayer was quite good. She blocked his punches and rebounded quickly from his kicks, as well as landing a few well-placed blows of her own. One kick to his midsection had the vampire reeling backwards. He took that opportunity to take off his leather duster and toss it onto a nearby tombstone.
“Thank god,” Buffy said, as she saw his action.
“What?” Spike asked, coming at the slayer again with a punch to her face.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to stake you as well as get your coat off. Now that’s not an issue.”
“Oh don’t worry, love. Don’t worry your pretty little head about staking me. In a few minutes it’s going to be a moot point anyway,” Spike ground out with more bravado then he actually felt. In truth, the fight was going nowhere. Each fighter managed to hold their own, and most punches and kicks were blocked. Only a few had landed in the entire time that they had been fighting.
Spike looked up and saw the sky turning a shade of pale pink. While Buffy was recovering from a kick that he had landed the vampire grabbed his duster from where he had flung it and began walking backwards, so that he faced the slayer the entire time.
“Sorry I can’t stay, love. We’ll have to do this again sometime,” Spike said.
“What? I tire you out?” Buffy asked with a snort, oblivious to the daylight creeping over Los Angelus.
“Not exactly. I just prefer to do my fighting at night. Don’t worry slayer, we’ll finish this. I’ve still got a coat you want…and you still have something I want,” Spike said.
“Yeah…what’s that?” Buffy screamed at Spike’s retreating form. The vampire was now far enough that he was not in danger of being staked from behind, so he turned and continued walking away.
“If you don’t know what I want…you have no business asking.” Spike said, smirking slightly, though all the slayer saw was his back.
“Bastard,” Buffy mumbled, walking back to her home, knowing that if her mother realized she had been out there would be hell to pay. It wasn’t until she was safely in her bed that the slayer realized something interesting about the fight. Spike hadn’t changed into game face the entire time.
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Part 2:
Can the ocean keep from rushing to the shore?
It's just impossible.
If I had you could I ever ask for more?
It's just impossible.
And tomorrow, should you ask me for the world
Somehow I'd get it,
I would sell my very soul And not regret it
For to live without your love
Is just impossible
From "It's Impossible", a song by Perry Cuomo lyrics by Sid Wayne
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Buffy unleashed a series of punches and kicks at the punching bad in the corner of the community gym. There was only about an hour until closing time so the gym was almost completely devoid of people. That’s why Buffy heard Spike approaching.
The slayer didn’t turn, she merely continued her assault on the punching bag, speaking to Spike with her back turned to him.
“How’d you find me?” Buffy asked.
“Had a little chat with your mum. She was kind enough to invite me inside for a cup of cocoa,” Spike said. This caused Buffy to turn, her hazel eyes widening in panic. Spike picked up on her fear and realized the cause. “Don’t worry slayer. I didn’t hurt your mum--not my style. She’s decent people, no need to kill her.”
“Thank you,” Buffy murmured, looking down at her bare feet.
Spike fidgeted slightly, fighting off the urge to light a cigarette.
“Shall we fight?” He asked conversationally, after a moment.
“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy said, pulling a stake from the waistband of her yoga pants. She took a minute to notice that Spike was dressed in the same attire that he had been yesterday. As Buffy crouched into fighting position Spike shrugged off his black duster and threw it carelessly aside.
The fight began with full concentration on both sides. Like yesterday, the fight began with both competitors equally matched. However, after about fifteen minutes Spike’s experience and fighting skills shone through. After all, he was a one-hundred year old master vampire. And she was a watcher-less slayer with one year’s experience. Spike had pinned the slayer’s arms by the side of her head, and was straddling her waist.
“Now this is just pathetic….what would your watcher say?” Spike asked mockingly.
“I don’t have a watcher,” Buffy ground out, wriggling against Spike’s tight hold on her. That comment caught the vampire off-guard and he loosened his hold slightly. Not enough to allow the slayer to escape, but enough to let her know he wanted her to continued talking. “He died earlier this year,” Buffy explained, hoping that Spike didn’t question her further.
“I can tell,” Spike said softly, loosening his hold on the slayer even more. In fact, he completely relinquished his hold on her arms and was simply sitting on the slayer, positioned slightly below her hip. “You’re kicks are good. But your punches, they need work.”
“What?” Buffy asked incredulously. It was one thing for an enemy to mock her fighting technique, but it was entirely another for a master vampire to ignore the fact that he could have gone for a kill, and instead give helpful tips on fighting.
“You’re punches. They need work. Here, let me show you,” The vampire offered, removing himself from the slayer and stretching out a hand for Buffy to grab. The slayer ignored it, getting to her feet on her own and watching with interest as Spike kicked off his combat boots and stood next to Buffy, barefoot on the mats next to the punching bag.
“You punch like this,” Spike explained, punching the bag. However, he didn’t simply punch it, he rotated his entire body forward. “You open up your body to an attack. Then, once you take a punch or kick to the stomach, you don’t rebound.”
Thoroughly confused, the slayer ventured a tentative “what should I do?”
“When you punch you want to immediately turn your body. Only for a brief second should your stomach be exposed. It’s important to rotate, as it does add power, but then you want to turn back so that you can avoid getting hit,” The vampire explained, demonstrating the correct way to punch.
Buffy was about to attempt the kind of punch Spike had shown her, when the manager of the gym came in and asked them to leave.
“Oh my god, it’s eleven o’clock!” Buffy said, hurrying to put on her sandals.
“So what?” Spike asked.
“My mom is going to kill me. I told her I’d be home by ten.” Buffy fled from the gym without so much as a backward glance. Leaving Spike standing next to a still swinging punching bag.
That morning the vampire found it hard to sleep. He wished for the first time in ages to be able to go outside during the day. After all, he couldn’t help but wonder what the slayer would look like in the sun. Hair shinning, eyes sparkling. Creamy expanse of skin for him to run his hand over…Spike drifted off into a dream-filled sleep.
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Part 3:
"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour.
Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute.
THAT'S relativity."
~Albert Einstein Quotes~
“Hey Buffster, it’s your early morning wakeup call,” Xander’s cheery voice said. Buffy’s response was a groan into the telephone receiver.
“Why are you calling me this early?” The slayer asked her best friend.
“You have a class in an hour and Willow knew that you’d sleep late,” Xander explained.
“What class?” The slayer asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning, the telephone receiver firmly tucked against her chin and shoulder.
“Poetry. I think the whole class is devoted to studying Shakespearean sonnets,” Xander said.
“And how do you know all of this…non college boy?” Buffy asked curiously.
“Willow knew you’d ask,” Xander replied, smirking from his bedroom, where he sat, making the call.
“Well, I better get ready. I love sonnets, so this class should be fun,” Buffy said.
“You love poetry? Since when?” Xander asked. Buffy paused and Xander clamped a hand over his mouth.
Willow had warned him about this. After instructing Xander to call Buffy and wake her up she had warned him that her only class of the day was poetry, a class that held great reminders of the slayer’s vampire lover.
“I’m sorry Buffster. I didn’t mean to-“ Xander began. However, the slayer cut him off.
“You know, I really need to go. I’ll meet you at the shop after my class though,” Buffy said.
“Yeah…okay. Are you sure you’re….” Xander trailed off when he heard the sound of Buffy turning off her cordless phone. “Damn,” Xander cursed himself, picturing all too well the sight that Buffy would make.
It was the slayer’s first year of college and she owned an apartment by the campus. She had been getting better. The times when she would stare off into space were becoming less and less frequent. However, both Willow and Xander knew that the transition into the real world, from a summer of relaxation would be hard. After all, everything Buffy did seemed to hold memories of him…
Buffy sat at a table at Karma, a local dance club that most teenagers went to after school. Buffy remembered times when she and her friends would go dancing every afternoon, not coming home until the club closed at two o’clock. However, last year, when she had begun slaying her friendships had ended, she hadn’t had time. It wasn’t much of a loss, the slayer learned to treat herself as an individual and realized that she didn’t fit in with the popular girls that she used to lead, and now mocked her. Still, sometimes it would be nice to have some companionship. Sighing, Buffy concentrated on the poetry book in front of her. It was a book of Shakespearean sonnets and she hated every one of them. They made no sense! They were like….
“So…not out patrolling tonight, I see,” A familiar voice said.
“What do you want Spike?” Buffy asked, not looking up from her book. She knew that Spike wouldn’t kill her here. For some reason this vampire seemed to feel the need to have a good, clean, fight. Both of the times they’d fought it had been more like sparring, each getting into fighting position. Most graveyard attacks were surprises.
“Poetry, that’s interesting,” The vampire said, ignoring Buffy’s question and taking an empty seat across from the slayer.
“Not to me,” Buffy admitted, closing the poetry book with an exasperated sigh.
“Let’s have a look,” Spike suggested, pulling his chair around the table so he was next to Buffy. The slayer eyed him warily but said nothing. Spike took the poetry book from the table and glanced at the title for a moment, saying nothing. Then he began flipping through the pages. After a several minutes of silence Spike placed the book of sonnets gently on the table. Buffy glanced down at the page that Spike had opened the book too.
On the left page there was a black and white illustration of Shakespeare, crouched over a writing desk. On the right was Sonnet 130
“What is it?” Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose. Spike rolled his eyes.
“Sonnet 130…one of Shakespeare’s most controversial sonnets….” Spike said, trailing off. “Good god, does that school of yours teach you anything?” The vampire asked after a moment. Buffy gave the vampire a blank look and he spoke once more. “Start reading.”
“Um…ok,” Buffy said, leaning over the book.
“My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare” The slayer read in a monotone voice. She
then looked at Spike expectantly. The vampire had closed his eyes and a grimace
was firmly planted on his face.
“What are you doing?” The vampire asked.
“Reading the sonnet,” Buffy said matter-of-factly.
“That was not reading the sonnet, that was murdering the sonnet!” Spike cried, flinging his hands into the air and not caring that he was attracting the attention of everyone dancing near him.
“I’m out of here,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes and standing. The slayer began to gather the few books she had. However, as soon as she reached for the book of sonnets Spike stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry,” he said softly. Too shocked to speak the slayer sat down once more.
“When you read this sonnet you have to read it with an understanding of what the author is feeling. Now, do you have any idea what this sonnet is about?” Spike asked Buffy patiently.
“No,” The slayer grumbled.
“Sure you do, look at it again,” The vampire coaxed. Buffy reread the sonnet, a look of total concentration on her face the entire time.
“Love,: The slayer said after a moment. “The man writing the poem-”
“-Sonnet,” Spike corrected.
“Is obviously in love with a woman. But it’s not like a normal love. He’s saying how his love for her is so pure and so powerful that it overcomes reason. He’s being perfectly honest with her, telling her exactly how he feels. But he’s telling her that it doesn’t make his love any less real. In fact, he thinks….knows….that by telling her he’s ensuring that their love lasts. It doesn’t matter who they are. All we know about the poem is that they’re a man and a woman. They could be complete opposites. They could be like a….” Buffy trailed off and Spike spoke,
“…vampire and a slayer.”
“What?” Buffy asked in confusion.
“I just mean that for all we know the couple could be as different as a vampire and a slayer,” Spike explained.
Buffy looked up at Spike for the first time since she had begun analyzing the sonnet. His eyes looked strait into hers and she was overcome with the urge to pull him to her and crush her lips to his. After what seemed like hours of simply staring at one another Spike spoke.
“You should be going home.”
“What?” Buffy asked, still mesmerized by Spike’s eyes. They were the kind of eyes, Buffy noted, that a girl could lose herself in.
“Come on love, I’ll walk you home,” Spike whispered. He stood and Buffy did the same. Exiting Karma together the pair set off in silence towards the slayer’s home. They reached her back porch and Buffy searched her bag for a key, finally finding one and pulling it out with a triumphant smile. The slayer paused for a moment before entering her house
“I just want to say thank you. For everything, especially for helping me with the sonnet though. I mean, school’s almost over and our entire final is going to be on the sonnets. I kind of get them now,” Buffy said.
“Slayer,” Spike said as Buffy turned the key in the lock, preparing to go inside.
“You’re punches…they still suck.” Buffy looked at Spike, one eyebrow raised.
“You think you can do something about that?” She asked, the hint of a challenge in her eyes.
“Oh yeah slayer, I definitely think I can. Tomorrow. Eight o’clock, meet me at the gym and I’ll show you what real fighting is about,” Spike promised the slayer. He locked eyes with her and suddenly found himself moving toward her, lips descending on hers. Buffy closed her eyes and tilted her head expectantly. However, Spike’s lips never reached hers, instead, they landed on her forehead. Planting a firm kiss there. “Sleep well love,” Spike said.
“Yeah,” Buffy whispered, trying not to let her disappointment show. “See you tomorrow.”
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Part 4:
To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
~Bertrand Russell
Buffy had barely made it through her class on sonnets without breaking into tears. She contemplated dropping the class, however, one look at the book of sonnet’s Spike had gotten her, gave the slayer the strength to make it through the class. Spike never would have wanted her to give up. And anyway, he was coming for her. He had promised.
Buffy pushed thoughts of Spike from her mind as she entered the bookstore. Giles had opened the shop when he had married Jenny Calendar. They had been married for about two years and their marriage, as well as the shop flourished. A small training room in the back of the shop was where she and Giles dealt with slayer things.
A bell sounded as Buffy entered the shop and Giles looked up for a moment to see if it was a costumer. Spotting Buffy he went back to his work.
“Feeling the love in this room,” The slayer said sarcastically, receiving a grunt from Giles, who seemed to be deeply immersed in his work. “I’m gonna’ go in the back and start training. If Xander gets here tell him I’m waiting for him,” Buffy said. Giles nodded and the slayer made her way to the training room.
Despite what she had said earlier the training room was not tiny. Though smaller than the gym that she and Spike had used in LA, it was an OK size. There was a small bathroom with a shower in the corner. Buffy kept a supply of both training clothes and street clothes in it. The actual training part of the room was a floor completely covered in mats. A chest of stakes, knives, swords, and other weaponry was in the corner, and two dummyies were set up along one of the wall. A little off center in the room was a punching bag chained to the ceiling. Off center in the other direction was a vault. Stacked in the corner were yoga mats that could be put down for extra padding if the slayer was trying something new.
Changed into training attire and ready to go the slayer began attacking the punching bag, waiting for Xander to come from his internship at the Sunnydale Times. When he finished he would get into his puffy suit and the slayer would attack him. Punching the bag Buffy thought back to her and Spike’s first training session.
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“Spike!” Buffy called into the darkened gym. As the slayer had approached the gym she had remembered that it wasn’t open on Tuesday’s. However, upon finding the door unlocked she went inside to the darkened gym. Reaching for the stake that was tucked into the back pocket of her black sweatpants the slayer crouched down, preparing for an attack. Her heart sunk at the thought that Spike had led her here as a trick. However, she didn’t have time to contemplate that as someone jumped out of the shadows and launched themselves at the slayer. Rolling with her they finally came to a stop and Buffy looked up to see Spike on top of her in game face.
“You would be dead right now,” The vampire said.
“No, you would,” Buffy corrected him. It was then that Spike looked down and saw a stake, pointed towards his heart, firmly clutched in the slayer’s hand. If Spike’s had gone for the kill he would have found a stake embedded in his heart.
“Fine,” Spike said, changing out of game face and getting off the slayer. “So you have a few tricks up your sleeves. But if you want to survive you have to be aware. If I had been with more vamps you would have been dead.”
“But I’m not dead,” Buffy said, getting to her feet and walking at Spike did the same.
“You need to be more aware of what’s going on around you, Spike said. He walked over to the light and turned it on for a moment. However, as soon as Buffy’s eyes adjusted to the light he turned it off once more.
The slayer blinked several times, readjusting to the darkness before she noticed that Spike had disappeared.
“Spike…” She whispered nervously.
“Here slayer,” Spike replied. Buffy whipped her head around to where she heard the sound coming from. However, Spike had already moved from that location and used that moment when the slayer wasn’t concentrating to spring from behind and tackle her to the ground. Spike was thrown off and the fight began.
Buffy’s punches had improved, Spike noted, pleased. And her focus was unwavering. However, if Spike were to move more that just a few steps in any direction Buffy seemed to have a hard time focusing on him.
“Use your slayer senses,” Spike suggested, throwing two punches that send Buffy stumbling backwards. “Concentrate and feel them reaching out to me. You should be perfectly aware of me, and not just the fact that I’m a vampire. Every vampire has their own scent. Your slayer senses should be able to distinguish me from a random vamp you’ve never come across,” Spike chided. Buffy took his words in and made her way to the center of the room, knowing that Spike was still on the outskirts. Taking one shoe off the slayer stood still. She could feel her sense humming, a sign that there was a vampire around. Furthering her concentration the slayer could feel herself being drawn to Spike. Usually her slayer senses warned her to get away. However, her body unconsciously reacted to Spike and she felt the need to be close to him. Honing in on that need she followed the feeling with her mind and once she had pinpointed Spike’s location, as well as the direction he was traveling in she flung her shoe towards him. It landed on his forehead and the surprised vampire stumbling backwards, clutching his head and muttering obscenities under his breath.
Buffy found the light switch and turned it on, smiling at the picture the vampire made.
“See ya same time tomorrow,” She said cheerfully turning and skipping out the door of the gym. She had some patrolling to do.
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Buffy had finished training and patrolling and was looking forward to climbing into her warm bed and never getting out. However, as always something got in the way. Dressed in a sports bra and Scooby Doo boxers, hair still wet from her shower, the slayer climbed into bed. This time what deterred her from sleep wasn’t an apocalypse…it was worse. All she could think about was him.
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Part 5:
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
Henry David Thoreau
Buffy awoke to the sound of tapping at her window. Groggily checking the time on her alarm clock she stumbled to the window and opened it.
“What are you doing here?” Buffy asked Spike, who sat on the roof outside her window.
“The place I live in is being searched--the cops think there are drugs hidden in it. Unless I wanted to try and explain my sun allergy to LA’s finest, I thought I better clear out.
“And what do you want me to do about it at two AM?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow and putting her hands on her hips in a stance that let Spike know that he would need to beg.
“Please slayer, let me crash here. Just for the day, I’ll be gone by tomorrow. I swear,” Spike pleaded, looking at Buffy with puppy dog eyes. The slayer rolled her eyes and motioned for Spike to climb through the open window. He did and then shut the drapes, ensuring that no sun would get through in the morning.
Buffy had already climbed into bed, muttering about how she had finals the next day and needed her sleep. Spike noticed that she was only taking up half the bed and, smiling slightly he stripped off his duster, belt, and tight black shirt. Sliding beside Buffy on the bed the slayer only grunted, oblivious to his presence in her bed.
“Love,” Spike whispered.
“Yeah,” Buffy responded, close enough to sleep that she was unaware of Spike’s location in her bed instead of on her floor.
“Will your mum come in and see me?” The vampire asked with concern.
“Door’s locked. My alarm with go off at…” Buffy yawned and fell asleep. Spike smiled tenderly down at her and kissed her forehead gently.
“Sleep well love,” He whispered softly, before drifting off into a deep sleep.
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Buffy groaned as she awoke to the sound of her alarm clock going off. Xander had told her that her wake-up call was a one-time thing so she better set an alarm. Climbing out of her bed and stumbling blindly towards the shower Buffy thought back to the first time she had awoken with Spike in her bed.
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“Mmmm,” Buffy groaned, snuggling deeper into the cool embrace that she found herself in. One of her arms snuck out to turn off her beeping alarm, and then wound it’s way around the person in her bed. The person with well-defined abs and cold skin. The person with a low purr emitting from his chest, whose strong arms were encircling the slayer. The person who was…Spike! “Spike!” Buffy cried in surprise, pushing out of Spike’s embrace. “What are you doing in my bed?” She asked after a moment.
“Don’t you mean out bed?” Spike asked, arching an eyebrow. At Buffy’s blank look he continued. “Last night I asked if I could crash here. You said yes. The floor didn’t look comfy and I figured you wouldn’t mind me being in the bed. Us being such good friends and all,” Spike said, smirking slightly.
“OK, it’s fine that you were in my bed…I guess,” Buffy muttered slightly, sitting up and running a hand through her hair, missing the look of want that crossed Spike’s face at the sight of her, glowing from a good night’s rest. It took Buffy a moment to realize that Spike had no shirt on and once she did she firmly shut her eyes, not opening them until Spike assured her that he was fully dressed.
“Can I shower somewhere?” The vampire asked.
“I need to shower first and then get off to school. I have finals today,” Buffy explained. “But after I’m done you can shower and I’ll make breakfast.”
“Thanks love,” Spike said, smiling at the slayer. It was then that Buffy noted her state of undress. She was dressed in a black sports bra and purple boxer shorts. Pulling on a bathrobe and turning a shade of bright red the slayer walked into the bathroom that was attached to her room, promising to push all thoughts of Spike’s beautifully sculpted chest out of her head. Little did she know, Spike was trying in vain to forget the sight of her.
Buffy stood under the spray of water coming from the shower-head. Her neck was bent backwards and her hand was making little circles on her temples, massaging them. She half wondered why she was showering anyway. Her first class of the day was gym and she would just have to shower after that anyway. However, the slayer couldn’t pretend that she didn’t relish the feel of her loofah running over her smooth skin. Sighing softly she pretended it was Spike’s hands that guided the loofah. Past her toes, running up her legs, stopping briefly at her thighs before reaching her…………………………………the water turned cold and Buffy stepped out of the shower.
Gym had passed quickly. The slayer had hardly worked up a sweat during the game of dodgeball her class had played, and after doing a few laps in the pool she had trailed the rest of the class into the locker rooms, eager for a shower. Now it was almost half an hour later. Most of the girls had left. However, Buffy stood in front of the mirror on her lock, brushing the tangles out of her hair.
“That’ll teach me to swim with my hair down,” The slayer mumbled. She laughed humorlessly to herself. However, her laughter was cut short when she heard voices.
“Total wackjob. I heard that she only hangs out with like….five people,” A high pitched feminine voice said. Buffy peaked out from behind her locker and caught a glimpse of three girls, getting up from a bench on the far end of the locker room and gathering their books.
“Well, I heard that Buffy hasn’t dated in like…four months. And her ex boyfriend killed himself!” Another girl said. Buffy gasped sharply, her brush dropping to the ground. Luckily, the three girls were already too far out the door to hear. Sinking down to the floor Buffy tried to hold back the tears that threatened to run down her face. Picking her brush off the floor and playing with the hair caught in the bristles she came across a peroxide strand. Unable to hold her tears in any longer, the slayer let out a sob.
Part 6:
“Mom?” Buffy called as she came through the door, dropping her keys on the table. The slayer had just returned from her last final and wanted to make sure that her mom was at work before looking for Spike.
“She’s at work,” a familiar British accent said, “left about an hour ago. There’s a note on the table telling you she’ll be home around eight.”
“Thanks,” Buffy muttered, walking into the kitchen, being trailed by Spike who had just come down the stairs. He was clad in his usual attire, which looked like it had been cleaned. Also, there was a strange scent attached to the vampire, in place of his usual smell of leather was the faint scent of vanilla and fruit.
Spike noticed Buffy’s bemused expression. “What?” He asked.
“Why on earth do you smell like vanilla?” Buffy asked, cocking an eyebrow at the vampire who, had he had blood flow, would surely have been blushing.
“Well, you know, I was in the shower when I realized I had no shampoo and what not. And all you had around was vanilla so I just kind off…” Spike trailed off, shrugging sheepishly, which was quite a feat for a master vampire wearing all black and a bruised leather duster. Buffy exhaled a laugh and turned to the refrigerator taking out a yogurt.
“So, how’d your final go?” Spike asked, taking a seat on the kitchen counter as Buffy snapped together the plastic blue spoon that came in the lid of her coffee yogurt. Taking a seat on a chair next to the counter Buffy paused a moment before responding.
“It went great. The English part was basically all about Shakespearean sonnets. So I guess, I kind of want to say thank you. I mean, there’s no way I would have passed my final without you,” Buffy said, looking up at Spike shyly.
The vampire took an unneeded gulp of air. Gods how he wanted to kiss her at that moment. There she was, smelling like vanilla and sweetness, the traces of her almost finished coffee yogurt coating her lips. She looked like perfection, like an angel, too pure to be touched. Spike reached down from the counter and stroked a hand absently through her hair, not noticing the way her eyes closed in pleasure and she leaned into his touch. After a few moments of the compatible silence Buffy pulled away, hoping that Spike hadn’t noticed how content she had been a moment ago. It wouldn’t do for him to know how she felt about him. That she had been thinking about him since she first fought him. And that morning, waking up in his comforting embrace, it had been like a fantasy. And she wished with almost her entire being that she could have just stayed in bed, pretending to be asleep, taking comfort lying next to Spike, safe, protected. If only he felt the same way….if only he loved her back.
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Buffy rubbed her eyes lightly, looking over her sonnet homework had been stressful. And after the day she had, especially after gym class, the slayer desperately needed sleep. Memories of Spike surfaced as she looked over the notes she needed to understand for tomorrow’s class, but she didn’t cry. She hadn’t cried, not since the night that Spike had…..gone….she didn’t need to cry. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t be back. He had promised, he was coming for her.
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Buffy knew she was in love with Spike, and in the instant that she figured it out she accepted it. Sure it was weird, a slayer in love with a vampire. But that didn’t make it wrong. And how could it be wrong when it felt so right. Buffy and Spike had spent the afternoon together. They had watched Scooby Doo cartoons together and mixed flavors of ice cream together, culminating in a war of gummy bears and chocolate ice cream. And then they had cooked dinner together, trading barbs as Spike taught the slayer to peel potatoes and mix up a salad dressing that he claimed her aunt had taught him to make before he was turned. It was one of those days when everything was perfect.
“So slayer, how was dinner?” Spike asked, picking up Buffy’s plate with his own and carrying them over to the sink.
“Delicious,” the slayer admitted, “makes me wonder why you drink blood all the time if you can cook so well.”
“Human food doesn’t really fill me love, I just like the taste is all,” Spike explained.
“Speaking of blood, if you’re getting hungry we could walk over to the butcher and get you some,” Buffy offered, getting up from her seat and grabbing a wet rag to wipe the counter with.
It was on the tip of Spike’s tongue to say yes. However, he couldn’t do it. He loved her, of course he did, it was impossible not to. But he was a vampire. And he would make it perfectly clear to her that hanging out all afternoon did not suddenly make him a lap dog…
“I better go back home, actually,” Spike said. “If the cops are still around I need to find a new place to live. Besides, your mum will be home in an hour and we wouldn’t want her asking why the strange man wearing the leather coat in June was drinking blood,” Spike finished with a grin.
“Ok,” Buffy said. She walked Spike to the front door, and unlocked it slowly, she wanted to savor this last bit of time together. “Hey, if you’re not busy tomorrow maybe we could train some more. I mean, school’s out and since I don’t have a watcher anymore…” Buffy trailed off.
“I’ll be your watcher,” Spike mumbled.
“What?” The slayer asked, taken back.
“I said I’ll be your watcher. Not that I’m a white hat mind you, I just can’t stand to see a slayer with as much talent as you waste all your skill,” Spike said, attempting nonchalance. Buffy spun around, leaving the key in the lock and wrapped her arms around Spike, pulling him into a hug.
“Thank you so much,” She whispered, holding the vampire tightly. Spike tentatively put his arms around Buffy and kissed the top of her honey colored hair, inhaling her scent. After a moment he pulled away.
“Don’t get all sappy slayer, I’m just saying I’ll train you, that’s all,” Spike said harshly. However, Buffy sensed how pleased he was at her display of affection.
“I know, it’s just you could be…should be trying to kill me. But I haven’t really had a friend in a while, not since I became the slayer, so it’s been kind of nice to have you around,” Buffy admitted.
“I know, and I should be killing you. I just can’t. I don’t know, I guess you’re like a…..a little sister to me,” Spike said. Buffy’s face fell.
“Little sister,” She said tonelessly.
“Yeah,” Spike replied. *Sister in Cruel Intentions that is* the vampire thought to himself
A little sister--Buffy had known that Spike didn’t love her. She knew it and she accepted it. But it didn’t stop it from hurting. It was OK though. For some reason she found herself trusting the vampire implicitly. And if he would only accept her as a trainee, a sister, and a friend, so be it. She would accept that…her heart would break because of that….
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“So Buffy, I’ve been thinking,” Xander said. Buffy ceased her attack on the punching bag for a moment. She had gone directly to the Magic Box after school and started an exhaustive training regiment. Xander had come in after his work at the newspaper was finished for the day and hadn’t spoken, had only watched her train. Not commenting when she messed something up, not commenting when she did well.
“What are you thinking Xan?” The slayer asked, pushing a stray lock of sweat-soaked hair from her face.
“That maybe you should come to the Bronze with the gang tonight. It’s been four months Buffster, and I just think that maybe you should start coming out with us more,” Xander suggested.
“Sure, I guess so,” Buffy agreed with slight trepidation. After all, she did need to spend more time with the gang.
“And maybe we can all invite a friend, expand the group and all,” Xander suggested tentatively.
“Sure,” Buffy replied, stretching out her calves. “There’s this girl in my poetry class who’s kind of nice. It would be cool to bring her, see if we can develop a friendship and what not.”
“And I have this guy I thought you might want to meet,” Xander said. Buffy stopped and looked at Xander, confusion written across her face.
“What do you mean a guy?”
“He’s nice, about eighteen and he’s an intern for the newspaper, same as me. A really cool guy, good looking too,” Xander explained, not daring to look at Buffy.
“Are you setting me up for a date?” The slayer asked, her voice rising in anger.
“Buffy, it’s been four months. Spike wouldn’t want you to suffer like this. I’m not saying you have to go out with this guy. I’m just telling you that you need to move on. You need to fall in love again.” Xander explained, his eyes filled with the same concern his voice conveyed.
“You’d love that wouldn’t you,” Buffy said, her voice a harsh whisper, rising with every word she spoke, “you’d love for me to just turn off my feelings with a switch. Well it doesn’t work that way. I cannot dishonor Spike that way. How do you think he’ll feel when he comes back to find out that I’m dating someone else!” Buffy asked in outrage, tears forming in her eyes.
“Buffy listen to yourself,” Xander begged, “Spike is gone. He’s dead and he’s not coming back for you. He’s gone…forever, and the only way to honor his memory is to move on, to love again, to prove to yourself and to Spike that you’re strong enough to keep living!” Buffy looked at Xander, her eyes filled with so much emotion. “He’s gone Buffy….he’s gone…” Xander said in a whisper. Buffy’s bottom lip quivered for a second before her eyes welled up with tears and she collapsed into Xander’s outstretched arms, desperately trying to too hold back her tears.
“I love him so much,” The slayer whispered softly.
“I know Buff, I know,” Xander said comfortingly, rubbing small circles on the slayer’s back, “But you have to move on. He’s not coming for you.”
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“Hey Spike,” Buffy said, entering the abandoned gym that Spike had found. Last week they had spent the past week training at the gym all day, and patrolling together at night. However, last night Spike had told Buffy that he had found something and had taken the slayer here, to the old gym. It had a punching bag, a vault, a dummy to attack, and a balance beam. It was in great condition and Spike assumed that the owner had been killed, probably by a vampire. Well, the owner’s loss was their gain. This was exactly what Buffy needed.
“So, today I thought we’d try something different. I want you to practice not using weapons. And then, on tonight’s patrol, I thought you could go without using weapons, try to fight any demons we come across with just your hands. I think it will be good for you to fight without weapons for a change,” Spike said.
“Actually, I meant to talk to you about tonight’s patrol,” Buffy said, “I know that we’ve been patrolling together for the last week and all, but tonight…”
“What is it?” Spike asked, brow furrowed in concern.
“I have a date tonight,” Buffy said, “and I was hoping that you’d agree to patrol alone tonight. I won’t bail all the time, it’s just it’s the first date I’ve had in a long time. And I’m kind of doing it to try and get over someone, you know, a step to patch up my wounded heart and what not,” Buffy explained.
“Sure, I guess,” Spike said, after a moment’s pause. *A date….she’s going on a date….with some guy she loves…she’s going to* “…Wounded heart you said. Who hurt you?” Spike asked with a slightly protective growl.
“No one, it wasn’t like it was his fault. It’s just…you wouldn’t understand…” Buffy said after a moment’s pause.
“Try me,” Spike suggested, stepping behind the slayer and rubbing her shoulder’s comfortingly.
“You ever love someone who doesn’t love you back?” Buffy asked, turning to stare into Spike’s bright blue eyes.
“Always,” The vampire whispered softy, when Buffy had stepped away and he was sure she wouldn’t hear. Looking at the slayer longingly he whispered once more, “Always. I will love you always.”
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Buffy had spent the better part of the afternoon and evening crying in Xander’s arms. It was like all her dreams were shattered. Of course when Spike died she had been upset, heart broken even, but she had moved on, kept going, he had promised he was coming for her and she believed him. Now, though, Xander had spoken aloud her worst fear, the idea that Spike wouldn’t be coming for her, that perhaps, death had beaten him, that perhaps, death was too strong.
Brian was nice. Really, he was. There was nothing wrong with him. He was courteous and polite--he opened his car door for her and offered to get her something to drink when they reached their destination, Karma. He listened to her when she spoke and he nodded his head in agreement and laughed at proper intervals. But his eyes didn’t shine with a light from within when she said something he disagreed with. He didn’t run a hand through his hair in exasperation when she pouted. He didn’t smirk at her when she was wrong, and he didn’t smile at her when she was right. He didn’t look like the kind of man who would get caught up in the moment, the kind of man who would suddenly grab her to him and kiss her thoroughly just because…and now he was talking about cars….cars….Spike can drive a car. He claims he has a black one, I have yet to see it. I bet he drives it really well. I bet he holds his hands at ten and three. Just like a perfect driver…And in the summer I bet he drives with the window down, and the radio playing loudly. And if it’s really muggy I bet he sweats…sweet Spike sweat….sweat that drips down from his scarred eyebrow, past those perfect lips, until his rough pink tongue licks the drop of sweat. Or if he doesn’t lick the sweat…then it would keep going, down his chin, past his throat, down onto his chest…under his shirt, sliding across those perfect abs…just waiting to be licked off-
“Buffy, are you listening?” Brian asked, when he caught the slayer’s spacey look.
“Of course Brian. I just got caught up in the moment. Please continue,” Buffy said her voice as sweet as honey. When Brian began talking again Buffy sighed internally. Yup, he was definitely no….“Spike!” Buffy called when she caught sight of her friend’s bright, blonde hair.
“What?” Brian asked.
“I just saw my friend Spike. Let me get him, I’ll introduce you,” Buffy
offered. Not waiting for Brian’s response she got up from the table and made her
way over to Spike, who stood, leaning against the bar, watching the slayer
coming towards him.
“Hello love,” Spike said when the slayer reached him.
“Hey,” Buffy said with a relieved sigh.
“Date not going well?”
“Isn’t that an understatement. I used to totally love boys. They were fascinating and fun and…” Buffy trailed off for a moment. “I guess compared to demons human boys seem kind of…”
“Immature,” Spike offered.
“Boring,” The slayer corrected. “I mean, even spending an evening watching Scooby Doo with you is more exciting.”
“I’m flattered, really,” Spike said, sarcastically. Buffy rolled her eyes and slapped the vampire’s arm good-naturedly.
“I didn’t mean to downplay the excitement of our Scooby Doo marathons, I just meant that dates are supposed to be exciting. Brian’s such a-“
“Hey Buffy, is this Spike?” Brian’s familiar voice asked. Buffy whipped around and smiled sweetly at Brian.
“Yeah,” She said. “Spike, Brian. Brian, Spike.”
“Nice to meet you,” Brian said, offering his hand, which Spike took and shook
firmly.
“Same here mate,” Spike said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I’ll be
going-” Spike was cut off by Buffy clearing her throat purposefully. “What?”
Spike asked with a slight smirk, understanding immediately that Buffy wanted him
to make up an excuse to get her out of the date. However, there was no way he
was going to do that. Definitely not, it was so much more fun to watch her
suffer. She was so cute when she pouted.
“Well, I guess Buffy and I will get back to our date then. We haven’t even danced yet,” Brian said cheerfully. Spike was about to wish them well and then go of in a corner somewhere to watch Buffy be miserable. However an image of the slayer dancing with Brian, hips moving seductively passed through his mind and he suddenly found himself searching for any excuse he could think of to get the slayer out of Karma and home. Out of the clutches of dates like Brian who expected good night kisses. No way Brian would be getting a good night kiss if Spike wasn’t…no way.
“Actually, I think Buffy needs to come home now,” Spike said, stuttering
slightly.
“I know slayer has a busy day tomorrow and all, wouldn’t want her sleepy. Well,
ta then,” Spike finished, grabbing Buffy’s arm and pulling her out of Karma .
The slayer didn’t have time to protest, or to remind Spike that her purse was
still in Karma. She was being pulled out the door and around the corner, far
away from a very confused Brian who was still puzzling over why the bleached
blonde man had called Buffy “slayer.”
It wasn’t until Buffy and Spike were outside the slayer’s house that they paused. Spike had been dragging the slayer the entire way, and after a few minutes of confusion, Buffy had realized that Spike was her salvation, getting her away from Brian (though not really in the manner she would have chosen), and therefore, she stopped resisting. When the two paused they both broke out into laughter simultaneously.
“I wish I could have seen the look on that git’s face,” Spike said, in between hearty chuckles.
“That was really mean,” Buffy began, before breaking into laughter, struggling to get out the rest of her sentence. “He was perfectly nice.”
“He was perfectly nice,” Spike mimicked in a high pitched voice. “Perfectly boring you mean,” Spike amended, arching an eyebrow at the sheepish looking slayer as their laughter subsided.
“Okay, okay, you’re right. The man was a cardboard cutout,” Buffy admitted. That confession sent the pair into another round of laughter, which ended only when Joyce came outside, wondering what the commotion was about.
After a brief and slightly awkward chat with Joyce, Spike went home, whistling merrily. After all, mission had been accomplished. The slayer had gone home that evening without kissing or dancing with Brian. Plus, she had admitted how much she enjoyed spending time with him, even just watching cartoons. Maybe…no. It was impossible. He was a watcher and big brother to the slayer, not a boyfriend. He would just have to love her from afar. It was okay, he could live with that…his heart would break because of that.
Part 7:
The Next Week…
“Hey Spike,” Buffy said, entering the abandoned gym, “Spike? Spike, where are you?” It was unusual for Spike not to be in the gym when she entered. He was usually already there, already covered in sweat from a vigorous workout. He taunted her with that fact-that he started his workout hours before the “chosen one” did. “Spike? You here?” The slayer asked once more. She was about to begin her workout, assuming that Spike would be there any minute, smoldering blanket over him as he burst through the door. However, she heard sounds coming from the alley out back.
Stepping into the alley the Slayer cringed as the scent of rotting fish invaded her senses. It was dark in the alley only a few slivers of light getting past the large trashcans that barred the entrance. Buffy wasn’t particularly fond of the alley, for the obvious reasons, and was about to turn back inside and chalk the noise up to someone’s drunken wandering. However, once the scent of blood hit her nose, the slayer couldn’t help but go further into the alley.
Creeping past several trash bins she saw it…a sight she’d never forget. A middle-aged woman was pressed against the wall of the alley. Her body was arching up towards a figure clad in black, and blood was gushing from a wound in her neck as the figure hungrily sucked at the wounds. It wasn’t until the woman’s lifeless body slumped to the ground that Buffy let out a soft moan of horror. True, she had seen a vampire feeding before, and it wasn’t that she was squeamish. It was just, for some reason, the sight of a woman losing her life in a disgusting alley struck a chord with her.
At the sound of the slayer’s moan the vampire whipped around without thinking. And, at the sight of Buffy’s eyes he instinctively changed out of game face. Her eyes conveyed so many emotions. Confusion, pain, hurt, and anger. And his mirrored those emotions back at the slayer.
“Spike,” Buffy whispered softly, recognizing the vampire immediately. Timidly, Spike stepped towards Buffy, unsure of what her reaction would be. Would she view him as a threat? Would she understand his actions, his craving for blood and need for violence?
“Buffy, love,” Spike whispered. “Listen to me baby.” The slayer shook head no, her lower lip jutting out to form a confused and upset pout.
“No…you. How can you be…?” The slayer stammered. Of course she knew Spike fed. It just…hadn’t completely processed. After the night she had offered to walk down to the butcher with him, only to have him refuse, the knowledge that he probably killed humans had crossed her mind a few times. However, it was so easy to forget that he was a killer when he helped her patrol, when he kissed her forehead, or when he watched cartoons with her.
“Slayer, we need to talk now, okay,” Spike said softly, coming towards Buffy. The slayer thought of protesting. However, Spike came closer and touched Buffy’s elbow, leading her inside the training room, and all thoughts of protest left Buffy’s mind.
It was a few moments before Buffy spoke, unable to stand the silence for any longer.
“How could you do that?” She asked in horror.
“I’m a vampire, pet. It’s what I do,” Spike explained patiently.
“Someone is dead because of you,” Buffy ground out, through clenched teeth.
“And I would be dead if I didn’t get any food,” Spike said, his voice rising in anger.
“You killed someone,” The slayer whispered once more in horror.
“I killed one person slayer. She wasn’t the President or anything. She was a cashier; An unimportant employee at the ACME.
“And that makes it okay?” Buffy asked in horror.
“I’m just saying her death didn’t matter to anyone,” Spike said.
“It mattered to somebody-to her children, to her co-workers. She was a human being and now she’s dead because of you.”
“I need to feed love. I won’t become some tame puppy just because I lo-” Spike stopped himself before he said he loved her, relieved that the slayer was too preoccupied to question what he had been about to say.
“Then I have to kill you,” Buffy said softly, looking at the ground. After a moment’s pause she looked up, meeting Spike’s gaze unflinchingly. Would Spike see through her lie? Would he realize that she could never kill him? That she could hate him and curse him and hurt him, but that she could never bring herself to take him out of this world.
“You won’t kill me,” Spike said with more confidence than he felt.
“Maybe not, but I’ll hate you, and it’ll hurt just as much.” Another silence followed the slayer’s words.
“What if I feed but don’t kill?” Spike asked softly, his voice becoming patient once more.
“I don’t understand,” Buffy said.
“I can take blood, enough that I’m satiated, but I won’t take enough to kill the human I’m feeding from,” Spike explained. Buffy took a deep breath, a battle waging beneath her calm exterior.
“The human will live. They’ll be able to go home to their families and friends?” The slayer asked skeptically.
“I swear the human will live,” Spike said, his voice unwavering.
“Okay then. As long as they live,” Bufy decided. She took a deep breath and then met Spike’s eyes. Unable to help herself the slayer walked closer to Spike and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him closely as she tried to hold back tears. It was so hard to live in this world. Once again, the lines that used to be black and white were becoming gray.
Buffy and Spike didn’t train that day. They sat for most of it in silence, Spike still holding the slayer, each savoring the feel of being so close to the other, each not admitting that they felt that way. As the sun was setting Buffy got up to go. Spike stood also and followed the slayer outside of the abandoned gym and onto the street. The sun was low enough that he was in no danger of bursting into flames. Spike trailed Buffy as she walked in the familiar route that led to her house. The two paused when they reached her front door. Buffy was about to ask Spike if he wanted to come inside and hang out when she heard her mother’s voice.
“Buffy!” Joyce called, coming towards the slayer. She was about a block away and was probably alerting the whole neighborhood to her presence by calling the slayer’s name. However, Buffy waved to her mom, fighting down her embarrassment. As Joyce approached the corner and was about to cross over to the street where the Summers’ house was a vampire stepped out behind her.
“Mom lookout!” Buffy screamed. Spike and Buffy both set off at a run towards where Joyce stood. It was too late. The vampire, a demon who couldn’t have been more than a few years old, sunk it’s fangs into Joyce’s neck. The slayer’s mother barely let out a yelp before blood was gushing from her wound and she had collapsed, lifelessly to the ground.
“Mom!” Buffy screamed in horror. Reaching the place where her mother lay dead the slayer knelt down, cradling Joyce’s limp head in her lap. The vampire that had just killed Joyce was preparing to pounce on Buffy when Spike raced up next to the slayer, staking the vampire as he prepared to pounce. It seemed as if Buffy didn’t even see him. She just kept staring blankly into the lifeless eyes of her mother.
“Buffy,” Spike murmured softly, “Buffy love you need to come with me. We need to call the hospital,” Spike whispered.
“Mommy,” The slayer whispered.
“Slayer, we need to get you inside.,” Spike said, running a hand through his hair before kneeling down beside the slayer. He didn’t know what to say. All he could think of was the sight of the vampire sinking its fangs into Joyce’s neck. True, he had done the same thing just that day. But in this case it was different. The woman he had killed wasn’t like Joyce. Joyce was special. She was beautiful, and kind, and the slayer loved her. The woman he had killed was…Spike trailed off. He finally got it. To somebody, the woman he killed was mom. But there was time later for guilt and sadness. Right now he needed to get Buffy inside. It wouldn’t do to have the slayer outside all night. “Come with me Buffy. I’ll take care of everything,” Spike whispered after an awkward silence. Come inside love.”
Buffy nodded blankly, not meeting Spike’s eyes, still staring at her mother. She was barely aware of Spike picking her up and taking her inside. She didn’t know when Spike brought her mother inside, or when Joyce was taken to the morgue. All she remembered was falling asleep as Spike carried her gently inside, and then waking up again as he peered in at her, the hall light casting a glow upon her.
“Spike,” The slayer murmured softly.
“I’ve got you baby,” The vampire whispered, coming into the slayer’s room. He kicked off his shoes, socks and shirt, carelessly tossing them aside, before crawling into bed next to the slayer. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of all the business tomorrow. Right now you sleep,” Spike commanded gently.
“I don’t think I can,” Buffy admitted softly. “I’m so….”
“Then close your eyes and I’ll talk to you,” Spike whispered. His deep accent lulled the slayer to sleep “J’atai necoupata leolarci. Vicouma tumatai falarcta neouraci. Cartpaya liraidtuo. J’aitai pectafa.,” Spike whispered. He paused of a minutes, listening to the slayer’s deep breathing, and steady heartbeat, a sign that she was asleep. “You have no idea how much I want to make love to you right now. Over and over until you can’t breath, can’t speak, can’t walk. Over and over until you can only love,” The vampire translated to the sleeping slayer. Then he kissed her forehead softly, and closed his eyes, joining her in sleep.
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