Chapter 8 - You’ve Only Just Begun
“I feel like I’ve hardly seen you this week,” Willow said, helping Buffy go through her closet in preparation for her date later that night.
“I know, I’ve been kinda lacking in all things class-related,” Buffy said, pulling out a dress for a moment before shoving it back into her wardrobe.
“I’ve noticed there’s been a certain absent party next to my desk everyday.”
“I’m sorry, Wills,” she said with an apologetic smile. “It’s just… with this whole Spike thing and him wanting to… well, let’s just say, my concentration hasn’t exactly been a huge focal point where school is concerned. Did I miss anything of major importance?”
“Only Xander drooling over the new science teacher.”
“Please tell me it’s a woman.”
“Yes,” Willow admitted with a smile. “But you should see him, Buffy. It’s like he’s regressed to some kind of…”
“Teenage boy?” Buffy filled in, putting on her lipstick.
“Exactly! It’s gross!”
“Come on, Will, she’s a teacher. I’m sure it’s just a little crush,” Buffy said, capping the lipstick. “Not like anything can come of it.”
“I don’t know. If you saw the way she encouraged them-”
“Wait - them?”
“The guys in class. It’s disturbing.”
“Hmm,” Buffy murmured, seemingly studying another dress without actually looking at it as she thought about what she’d just heard. “Keep me posted on the Xander sitch.”
“You think it’s something to worry about?” Willow asked, looking up at her friend with an anxious expression.
“I don’t know about worrying, but there’s definitely a creep factor there.”
“That much is definitely true,” she agreed before turning toward Buffy with a smile. “I can’t believe Owen Thurman asked you out. That‘s so exciting!”
“I know. One minute, I’m all stressed about Spike, and the next - boom - I have a date. Weird how high school works out that way,” Buffy said with a smile, holding up a dress for Willow to critique.
Shaking her head at Buffy‘s choice, Willow offered her a bronze-colored dress that was visibly modest, with the exception of the skirt that ended mid-thigh. “Speaking of Spike, what’s going on there?”
Buffy sighed, idly playing with the fabric as she thought of how to edit the details from the night before. “Well, the good news is he obviously doesn’t want to kill me. The bad news is that he definitely wants to kill me.”
“Okay,” Willow said slowly. “In the words of Xander, who here’s not following that crazy train?” she asked, raising her hand as Buffy laughed.
“It’s just… the actual killing seems to be on the backburner. He apparently wants to see how strong I get. Wants to up his challenge for himself. He doesn’t seem to have any interest in killing me right now, but that’s definitely on his agenda.”
“He’s like a big cat,” Willow replied, helping Buffy zip the back of the dress. “Has to play with his food before he eats it.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Buffy raised an eyebrow. “I hope that doesn’t mean that your money’s on him?”
“What? No! No, of course not. I’m in the Slayer corner,” she said with a bright smile.
“The thing is,” Buffy began slowly, sitting down on her bed as she put on her shoes. “I’m not sure if I am.”
“What?” Willow cried, dropping down beside her friend. “What do you mean? You want the Master to win?”
“No… no, that’s not it. I’m just… I’ve been the Slayer for a year and… I’ve never come across anyone like this before. Even the Big Bad that I killed in L.A. was nothing like Spike. I’m just not sure if it’s possible for me to… slay him.”
“Buffy, if you question your abilities, then you don’t stand a chance. You have to know that you have the upper hand every time you come up against him.”
“But I don’t,” Buffy whispered, looking at her friend. “I don’t have it at all. In fact, whatever hand comes before the lowest hand is me right now.”
“What happened?” Willow asked gently.
Looking around the room for a moment, Buffy swallowed nervously as she took a deep breath. “Wills, if I tell you something, do you promise it won’t leave this room?”
“Of course,” she said quietly.
“The other night,” Buffy began, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. “He had the upper hand, Will. Hell, he had the whole deck,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.
“Buffy, what’re you-”
“He could’ve had me,” she cried, looking up at her friend, silently pleading with her to understand.
Willow stayed silent for a long moment, a shocked expression on her face. “You mean, you would’ve…?”
“No, I… Maybe,” Buffy muttered, looking at the floor.
“Maybe?” Willow repeated, seeing her friend’s obvious distress at the possible outcomes of the past night.
“The Slayer part of me was screaming to get away from him. Even the rest of me was having second and third thoughts for awhile, but… Willow, I’ve never felt…”
“Buffy, are you falling for him?” Willow asked carefully.
“What?” Buffy replied, standing up from the bed to grab a Kleenex, dabbing the tears that had formed in her eyes. “No. I could never… It was all just so surreal. He kept talking about games and that I needed to learn how to play and that he wants to teach me everything and…”
“And?” Willow prompted.
“And he taught me,” she finished with a contemptuous laugh.
“Did he…?”
“Let’s just say, if Owen gets to second base tonight, he won’t be the first one,” Buffy replied with a humorless laugh, drying more tears before they could fall.
“Oh,” Willow murmured, her eyes widening. “Buffy, that’s not your fault. He had the advantage over you and he took it. There’s nothing for you to feel ashamed of…” Willow trailed off, seeing the doubtful smile on her friends lips. “Is there?”
Buffy frowned as memories from the previous night came back to her. Spike’s voice seemed to haunt her wherever she was.
“Your body’s telling a different story, love.”
“So that’s what it’s like to have a Slayer.”
“I had you writhing underneath me. That’s enough for now.”
“That was just a taste, baby. Wait ‘til the main course.”
Taking a deep breath as she ran her hands through her hair, Buffy turned toward her bedroom door at the sound of the knock downstairs. “That’s Owen,” she murmured, a distant look in her eyes.
“Buffy-”
“Thanks for listening, Will,” she said, turning toward her friend with a grateful smile. “It helped to talk about it.”
Walking out the door and down the stairs before the redhead could push the subject, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the foyer. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Buffy looked at Willow as she descended the stairs. “Are you gonna be okay to get home?”
“Giles was going up to the library tonight, and I offered to help him out on the computer. He should be here any minute.”
“Okay, good,” she murmured, not liking the idea of her friend walking alone when the Master was on the loose.
* * * * *
“The thing about Emily Dickinson I love is… is she's just so incredibly morbid. A lot of loss, a lot of death… It gets me. With a lot about bees, for some reason.”
Buffy nodded, trying to keep the smile pasted on her face as she adapted to yet another aspect of her personality - high-school girl Buffy.
“Did she have a tragic and romantic life? With a lotta bees?” she asked, hoping she was appearing interested.
“Quiet. Kind of sequestered and uneventful. Which I can really relate to. I… don't get out much.”
“I don't get that.”
“It's my fault. I just find most girls pretty frivolous. I mean, there's a lot more important things in life than dating, you know?”
“Boy, do I know,” she muttered, looking down at the table for a moment. Feeling a tingle race across the back of her neck, her eyes widened as her gaze snapped over to the dance floor.
“Oh. Did I say something wrong?”
“Uh… no!” Buffy exclaimed, feeling short of breath as she tried to look through the crowded club without being obvious. Wanting a better position in case she was about to be taken by surprise, she grabbed Owen’s arm, practically pulling him from the booth. “Come on.”
Leading him out to the dance floor, Buffy scanned the area, trying to hone in on the familiar feeling, searching the shadows for any sign of movement as Owen wrapped her in his arms.
“It's weird.”
“What is?” she replied distractedly.
“You. One minute you're right there. I've got you figured. The next, it's like you're two people.”
Turning toward him for a moment, Buffy frowned. “Really? Which one do you like better?”
“I'll let you know,” he replied with a smile.
Buffy offered a half-hearted smile, attempting to look over his shoulder when she felt the presence slowly approaching. Only one vampire made her this aware of her surroundings.
“Are you, uh, having fun?” Owen asked a moment later, looking at her with a worried expression.
“Yeah,” Buffy replied absentmindedly, wishing for just one night of normalcy in her life. “I almost feel like a girl.”
Pulling away from him a moment after the song ended, Buffy turned toward their table, not paying attention as Owen continued to make small talk.
“Someone needs to call the cops. There’s some guy out in the alley trying to bite someone.”
Spinning around at the sound of the strange voice, Buffy saw the man weaving his way through the club. It wasn’t Spike, which only meant one thing…
“Owen, I’ll be right back.”
Practically running away before more of an explanation was needed, Buffy made it to the back of the club, slamming into the exit door and entering the alley. So intent on her destination, she didn’t notice the man in front of her until she slammed into him.
Wincing slightly when he grabbed her arms, holding her in a brutal grip, Buffy gasped in pain when she was thrown against the brick wall. Opening her eyes, she glared at Spike as he held her in place.
“Having fun, pet?” he asked with a cold smile.
“I was… until you showed up.”
The remark earned her more biting pressure on her arms, but she merely smirked in response. He was the one who insisted she play the game. May as well make it worthwhile.
“You’ve been a little distracted,” he continued. “But I guess I should thank you for that. Made it easier for my boys to find their dinner.”
Buffy’s eyes widened as she thought of the people who may have died that night because she wanted one night of normalcy.
You’ll never have a night off, Buffy, she thought, briefly closing her eyes. You’re in this, ‘til death do you part.
“I’ll deal with them later,” she replied, trying to outwardly remain unaffected.
“Mmm,” Spike murmured, his thoughtful gaze studying her. “What’s the matter, pet? Not feeling well? What happened to the annoyingly peppy high-school girl?”
“She’s on vacation.”
Spike smiled, studying her as she narrowed her eyes.
“And how the hell did you know I was here? Having me followed?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. “Did the dirty work all on my own.”
Buffy’s eyes widened in indignation. “You followed me?” she cried, struggling against him. “I can do without a personalized stalker, thanks.”
“Hello - creature of the night. Kinda falls under the stalking category, love. It’s what predators do, and in case you missed the memo, that’s what you’re dealing with when you run into me.”
“Oh right, ‘cause you’re the Big Bad. I forgot,” she replied sarcastically. “Well, if you’re so big and bad, why the hell are you in a back alley with a sixteen year old girl and not trying to kill her?”
Hoping that she’d hit a nerve, Buffy fought every instinct to step away when he smiled at her, sending a nervous chill racing down her spine.
“Was hoping for a replay of last night, Goldilocks. Although, tonight it would be only fair if you return the favor.”
Gritting her teeth as he bit his lip with a suggestive smile and rubbed his growing erection against her stomach, Buffy angrily shoved him away, recoiling when he smashed his fist into her face in response. Turning to face him with narrowed eyes, her body went rigid when she felt his hands wrap around her neck, forcing her against the wall once again.
“Never forget who you’re dealing with, Slayer,” he whispered, staring into her flashing eyes. “Too busy playing the double-agent role to remember that you’re just a kid. I could take you right here. Force you onto your knees in the middle of an alley and get what I want.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” she whispered, throwing her arms up to break his hold on her before slamming her fist into his jaw and kicking him in the stomach, propelling him halfway across the width of the alley. “That I am the Slayer.”
Her voice held such conviction, Spike almost believed her resolve. Walking toward her, he chuckled as he readjusted his jaw, silently commending her right hook. Walking toward her until he was a breath away from her body, he smiled down at her.
Buffy tensed when he leaned toward her, his lips ghosting over the pulse point in her neck, nearly closing her eyes when she felt his breath against her skin as he whispered, “You think you know… what’s to come? What you are?”
Leaning away from him when he stepped back, she fought to keep an impassive expression on her face when he gave her a derisive laugh, shaking his head as he backed away, melting into the shadows.
“You haven’t even begun.”
Thanks so much to: Spufette, Whitelighter354, Priscilla, Brunettepet, Burnz, SarahandJamesFanatic, Missouragirl, jenny, caatje, Smitten, Cordykitten, butterfly and V for reviewing!
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Segments in this chapter are credited to Rob Des Hotel & Dean Batali. Everyone have a safe and Happy Easter!