Title: The Long Journey Into Darkness
Author: Crazy_Girl_Mary
Email: crazy_girl_mary@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The two main characters are Joss', but I'm not stealin' I promise I'll give them back when I'm done.
Summary: A female is on the run from a killer, and he's not going to give up until he has her right where he wants her.
Pairings: Female/Male. This story has a female character a human, and a male vampire from the Buffyverse, but names are not used anywhere in the story. I did this so the reader could envision any characters they wanted. So if you have a thing for Willow/Spike, hey man it's them. There were two characters I had in mind when writing it and some subtle clues you may pick up may lead you to that conclusion, if you want to know who they really are then you can email me and I'll tell you.
Category: Angst.
Spoilers: None, complete AU, just a girl and a vampire.
Rating: NC-17 parts for sexual content, brutal torture, and character deaths.
Author's Comments: This is my latest work, and I think the fact that I've progressed as a writer shows. I'm probably more emotionally attached to this story as corny as it sounds but I still desperately want to know any thoughts, feelings, praises, and most of all criticisms, so please please let me know!

Part XI: Without Him


“So cowboy,” I ask him over my bowl of cheerios, “How was your big date with Denise last night? The three-month mark huh? Did ya get lucky?”

His expression is shy and priceless. “That is none of your business.” He joins me over a bowl and eventually shares the less intimate more romantic details of his landmark date. He has never had a girlfriend for this long, and thinks it just may be love.

“How sweet,” I say unable to keep a happy smile from my lips. “So where is she?” I ask looking around the house. She’s not here. I know that. We live together. We don’t fuck, but we respect each other enough. I know he’s a man and has needs as do I but we both do our lovemaking somewhere else.

“She had a meeting early this morning and couldn’t stay the night.”

It’s an excuse. Maybe true, but if not he wouldn’t let her stay if she could. I respect Denise as his girlfriend because from what I can tell she’s absolutely great to him, has him straightening out his image and everything, and she’s woman enough to respect that we are roomies and not get catty with me, and well if she fouls up on any of that shit I’ll just have to kick her scrawny ass. “What about you Bruiser,” he says, I hate the nickname that reflects my ‘club attitude’, but deserve it, “Find anybody special yet?”

“Stop,” I say mocking a shy young girl, “You know I’m not looking for anybody but you.” I smack his tight ass as I put my dishes in the sink.

“Look at you all up and at em’, why darling, it’s only 10:00 AM!” he gasps and covers his mouth with his hands. I work as a bartender at night so I usually don’t wake up until around three in the afternoon but today I have to do some shopping. I’ve just been paid and the money is burning holes in my pockets so obviously I need some new threads.

I glare at him as I grab the keys from the counter and head out the screen door to the el Camino. He gave it to me a few months ago when he moved on to a more refined new Monte Carlo. That’s just fine with me as long as he lets me drive it every once in a while. He got a job as a mechanic at this place downtown, and a bouncer at night so we could buy our little house. Now he owns the shop, and has off on Sundays. We’ve made quite a life for ourselves and I’m so happy I stuck by this one.

As I drive to the mall I remember how far we’ve come. I worked as a bouncer with him for a while, but people never took me seriously and I was provoking more fights then I was stopping so I was lightly and carefully laid off. Jaime had to be the bearer of bad news because everyone else was too afraid to do it. He said, “Yo tiger! You’re fired!” Then he sent me to a few classes where I learned how to make drinks I pretty much had already been good friends with and I got a slip saying I was a very good bartender, expensive nightclub material.

I’ve been working at one of those expensive nightclubs, called Firefly, uptown. It’s a gentlemen’s club so they have strippers off course. I wear little skirts and get big tips and lots of phone numbers but nothing ever pans out because guys who pick you up at a strip club don’t really take you seriously in a relationship, and well because I don’t want it to work out.

I blow through a red light and horns stir me from my thoughts. Oh great, ‘Died contemplating her non-relationships at the wheel’. I pull onto the highway and turn the sound system on hoping it will stir me from my thoughts. It works and I’m at the mall before I know it.

Not being an eager shopaholic I’m in and out with some hot new outfits and less burnt pockets. I drive home, nap, eat dinner, shower, and get dressed in time to make it to work a little late.

Part XII: Billie and the False Alarm


I cut the bouncer Donnie off as he starts to say something smart with a “Fuck off!” and walk into the already buzzing club, behind the bar, and into the back room.

“Billie!” The manager Brad accentuates my fake name because he knows it pisses me off. He doesn’t require anyone but the dancers to exclude their real names and I think I’m the only non-dancer who uses a fake name so he teases me about it. I scowl at him as I throw my jacket on the coat rack and put a little black apron around my waist to hold my money and my nametag.

“Hot outfit doll!” He comes over in all his gay glory to examine the clothes more closely. “Is this Prada?” he inquires about my sheer black tank top. I glare at him and he frowns back, “No,” he says smiling, “On you it’s not.” My leather skirt is shorter then the apron and has silver studs around the waist. My hair has permanent dark red streaks in it and it’s up in a sloppy bun. My eye shadow, lipstick and boots match the red in my hair.

“Okay,” he says lightly slapping my ass as I walk out to the bar, “Go get em’ sweetheart!” Just what the hell does he expect me to get?

The young guy that tends bar with me, Dustin, is an undeniable hottie, not to mention a complete flirt, but I think that’s just cause he sees naked woman all day, but never gets hit on because the only people ordering drinks are guys. “Hey Bill,” he calls my way and I glare as I get a beer for a regular sitting on a stool watching a bleach blonde dance in a shimmering see thought smock with lollypops designed all over it. I sigh in disgust and Dustin who has come up to stand next to me does a half ass job of stifling a laugh. “Ah, the alluring Candy, in all her sugary goodness.”

I repeat my disgusted sound and he slaps me on the ass, “I bet you could dance up there better then half these girls.”

“Only half?” I ask with an evil smirk, “And does this skirt say ‘smack my ass’ somewhere?” I ask craning my neck back and looking at my ass, which I make sure, rubs his leg as I struggle.

“Oh honey,” he says grabbing my hips firmly, “It says it perfectly.” And the plot thickens. We’re both just too wicked.

“Excuse me? Can I get a god damned drink? Stop whoring it ya little bitch and pour me one already!” I turn to a middle aged man who is half past sloshed with a shocked expression on my face. I’m almost positive my mouth is hanging open. Dustin who knows me well enough quickly wraps his arms around my waist before I get a chance to lunge at the bastard.

I push him off easily with my fury backing me and jump over the bar. I knock him one to the cheek and he’s standing before me shocked and maybe ready to hit me back when the bouncer comes over and grabs him away from me. “What’s the problem here Billie?” he asks.

The drunk starts slurring a sorry explanation. “He’s bein’ a fuckin’ dick,” Dustin says simply from behind me. He jumped the counter after me, but didn’t hold me back because he ‘gets hot’ when he sees me ‘lay it down’. I straighten my skirt then I look around and notice that Candy stopped mid show and all eyes are on me. Brad is not gonna like this one. I smile and do a little curtsy and walk around the bar. The guys applaud and a few toss some money my way then they return to the show.

The night wears on without any other incidents and I receive a few laughing glances from Dustin as guys inquire about what happened. One guy told the bouncer he should’ve let me get my ass kicked, and I was surprised to see that Donnie got my back and threw that drunk out on his ass too.

Near the end of the night they stop the dancers and don’t close the club for an hour so not everyone leaves at once. This had been the time lately when more people come in then have been all night. Men and women come to dance to the music and girls go up and dance on the stage. Brad lets it go for a few more hours because it gives the club a name among the young and female crowds.

As one particularly drunk and feisty blonde in a gray skirt suit, probably coming straight from work is hoisted up on the runway and begins to shed her clothes; Dustin comes over and taps my elbow. I look up and laugh. “That’s the third business suit we’ve had tonight!”

“I wonder if they plan that lawyer/teacher look or if they really were just litigating or using the number line!” he says happily watching the girl throw her camisole to the floor to reveal a sexy bra.

“Definitely planed, no lawyer or teacher wears that kind of bra!” Scratch that, so I know one evil brunette lawyer who wears that kind of bra. I glance up at the dance floor and feel a cold chill go through my body. Moving through the crowd slowly towards me is the object of my most intense fantasies and nightmares.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asks suddenly.

I jerk my head up to him. “Nothing,” and when I look back to the crowd it really is nothing. He’s not there. No leather pants, no glinting eyes, and no evil grin. It wasn’t the first time I imagined seeing him. But it was the most real hallucination and I know from past experience I’ll still be glancing around nervously days from now, scanning the crowds night after night searching for him. It eats me up that that’s the way he’d have it. He would want me to be scared and always on-edge. He would want me to stay away from committing to men more then a fuck because I’m scared he’ll come eat their hearts out through their throats and make me watch and I do it because what choice do I have?

Part XIII: Vodka, Not An Equalizer


“It’s been three weeks!” Jaime says as he walks in from a night out. I’m sitting at the island with a half empty bottle of vodka between my thighs, and my head on the cool counter. “And getting fucked up before going to a bar isn’t really good work habit.”

“I called out,” I mumble lightly. I know it will shock him. I never took a hallucination this serious and it shocks me even more because I know it was just that, no more, no less.

“Oh boy,” he mumbles as he notices the empty bottle of vodka in the sink. He comes over and lifts my head up a little but it just falls back down and he laughs a little as he pries the bottle from my fingers. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it so tight I can’t even lift it straight to my mouth to consume anymore but I feel like if I don’t have it, have something to save me I’ll die.

He lifts me easily in his arms and my eyes twirl around in my head, or is my head twirling. Who cares really? Everything blinks black. “I think I’m gonna puke! What kinda shit is that?”

“Not my girl,” he says tapping my ass, “My girl never pukes, although I’m guessing you drank that pretty quick huh?”

“Yeah, and chasers are for pussies!” I’m loud. That’s funny, so I laugh loudly, and that’s funny too which results in more laughing.

“Yeah they are!” he says to humor me.

“Wow we’re in my bed!” No, I’m just in my bed. He’s standing next to me.

“I’m happy to know from past experience that this is the drunk before you forget about thinking you saw him.”

“I’m happy too, but I’m hot!” I strip my shirt off and go for the bra but he distracts me by pulling the sheet over me. “Stay with me?” I ask lightly.

He nods and climbs in the bed behind me. His arms wrap around my waist and hold me tight and I feel so safe in his big friendly arms. “Can we fuck now?” I ask.

He laughs, “You couldn’t even sit up straight right now.”

I laugh, but I know things aren’t that simple. A bottle and a half of vodka doesn’t make me like other girls. The liquid doesn’t even the score. I could still kick his ass, and fuck him harder then he wishes to be fucked, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have nightmares. He’s my best friend and I know he’s physically attractive, his looks are even on the intimidating side, and when we first met he might have felt the same way about me but we grew past it. I say things like that to lighten the mood that’s descended and to try and convince him and myself I will forget my fears in the morning but odds are I won’t. I never will, and that’s my life. Even in this state I’m smart enough to pinpoint why I won’t forget. Because I’m afraid that if I do I’ll enjoy life completely, and I don’t know what to expect of that, and I’m afraid that if I move on and get a life for myself when I least expect it he’ll come and destroy everything.

This isn’t something I’m creating in my head it’s what he does. If I had no reason to expect it I wouldn’t. That doesn’t mean I’d run out and get a rich husband and little rugrats to drive around in a minivan. I would just try to make my life more enjoyable.

Part XIV: The Man with His Name


“Jaim?” I moan as I roll over. He’s not there. Bastard. I look at the clock. He’s at work. He’s been at work for hours. God, I stink. I’d go to work on me too. I jump out of bed and shake off the dizziness as I go to the bathroom to get a shower. I can’t miss work tonight. I drink a glass of orange juice and cringe as the smell of vodka (yeah it has a smell) wafts from the empty bottle still in the sink. I throw the bottle away and cap the other one. Odds are I’ll need it later on tonight.

I get dressed, a short dirty looking jean skirt with a frayed hem and waist, a tight black tube top and combat boots then I run out and jump in the car. The traffic is backed up for miles because of some pile up on the highway but I manage to make it to work on time.

“Holy Christ on the Cross!” Brad screams, “Early! Our little Billie is early!”

I just smile as I put on my apron, not in the mood to argue and not willing to get on his shit list after calling out a day.

“So why were you MIA last night?” he asks his mood now serious.

“I told Dustin to tell you,” I lie. “Jaime had food poisoning or something. You know it’s true what they say.” He looks confused, “The bigger they are the harder they puke.”

“Cute,” he says sarcastically, “Where’s the new clothes?” he asks glancing over my old outfit.

“It’s more comfortable, and I’m hung over so leave my the hell alone.”

He laughs, “I knew the food poisoning was just too endearing for our little diva.”

I smile and move out to the bar. “Busy tonight,” I notice and comment to Dustin.

“Yeah, the partiers came for the show,” he says annoyed. He glares at me, “Almost as busy as it was last night, when I was all alone!” I smile and his frown easily falters. “Apparently, it’s ‘cool’ for guys to bring their girlfriends to the strip club now.”

“Fuckin’ trendies!” I start making drinks and taking a few shots to try and alleviate my hangover. Dustin watches me wearily. He knows what happens when I drink on the job. I start flirting with the guys, and getting more attention then the dancers, one time I even got on the bar and did a little dance myself, but whatever I do it means play for me and more work for him. I send an evil grin his way and return to my work.

Whoa! A young guy in black is standing right in front of my. Loose black slacks, a tight black t-shirt, tousled hair, and piercing blue eyes the color of the sky. He smiles at me and says something but the dance is done and the guys are going crazy so I can’t hear. I lean forward and his lips touch my ear as he requests a screwdriver. Hey, he's my kind of guy. I pour two and start on one myself. He smiles seductively and I return the favor.

“What’s your name?” he screams over the noise, blue eyes flashing. I point to my nametag. “Billie.” The way he says my fake name makes me wish it were my real name as long as it meant it was as sexy as he made it sound. Oh boy, I’m in trouble. “That’s a sexy name.” I’ve heard that line plenty of times but he makes it sound new and exciting.

I ask him what his name is, no longer screaming because the room had become relatively quieter now that another dancer is performing. I barely hold on to my glass and my jaw as he casually lets his name slip from his lips. It’s an uncomfortable coincidence but I know it’s nothing more. This is not him. This is a young naďve townie with a killer body and eyes that could melt a cold-hearted bitch like me.

“You don’t like that name?” he asks smiling.

“No, it’s… it’s very nice.” Corny much?

“My father’s name!” Oh see now that explains it.

I smile and pour him another drink. An older man behind him makes a comment about how I should be doing my job and I give him the finger closely chased by my trademark ‘I hope you die’ look. My companion lets out a laugh and finishes his drink. He drinks quicker then I do.

“When do you get off?” he asks casually. When I don’t answer he looks a little unsure, “I don’t usually do this, come to strip clubs, certainly not to pick up girls. But the moment I saw you I was done watching the dancers.” His voice is endearing and I’m sure he’s serious. I consider it. I really need to get laid, and the last hottie that hit on me could talk the talk, but had trouble walking the walk. Disappointing. Would this guy be? There’s only one way to find out and I have had a few drinks after all so bad judgment is excusable.

“Three hours,” I say and his bright smile spreads to my usually angry face.

“Great!” he says. “I’ll wait for you outside.” Then he takes his refilled drink and heads over to a table to get away from the impatient crowd that has formed behind him. Jaime would frown at this, I know and I let loose a wicked smile.

“I try every damn day, and the first bastard with blue eyes and big arms lands a date with the illusive Billie?” Dustin asks glaring with false anger at my departing friend.

“It’s only cause I wouldn’t be able to handle you baby, you’re too much for me.”

We laugh together and the night continues on with out anything memorable. A little nervous about giving in so easily to meeting this stranger after work I take my time cleaning up the bar and I’m the last one to leave. It’s been over an hour longer then I told him and I’m hoping and guessing he won’t be in the parking lot when I go out.

I step out of the doors and don’t know whether to be relieved to see my car alone at the back of the lot. By the time I reach the door and get my keys out I’m completely conscience of the fact that someone is following me. I spin around quickly and he’s right behind me. His hands grip my shoulders and his lips come down to invade mine without meeting protest; the man with his name. If I keep my eyes closed I can imagine it’s him and even scream his name as loud as I dare. His rough hands and plush lips are definitely reminiscent of him. When he releases the kiss I open my eyes and he looks slightly surprised. He smiles, “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

“Where did you come from?” I ask, not really meaning just now, or tonight, or in general.

“I took a taxi here,” he says smiling. “I was waiting by the doors but you didn’t see me, so I figured I’d surprise you.”

“It worked,” I say as I return to unlocking the car door. He looks a little crestfallen. I smile, “Get in,” I say gesturing to the passenger door. His face brightens. God, those eyes are the only things that make him completely unique. He gets in the car next to me, and his hand immediately goes to my thigh, but he’s gentleman enough to stay out of the skirt while I’m driving. I feel his eyes on my face the whole time I follow his directions to his place.




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