Der Froschkönig (The Frog Prince)
She stormed into the crypt like she owned the universe, glowing with righteous indignation and entitlement. Spike jumped when the metal door hit the wall with an explosive bang.
“I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Spike eyed her with an indifference that belied his obsessive one man verbal wars with the “Buffy” dummy now lying battered and disheveled in a far corner of the crypt. “Funny, 'cause I've got a proposition for you. How ‘bout knocking? It seems only fair considering we vamps can't enter your flat without an invite that you could at least . . .” Buffy flapped a wad of cash under Spike’s nose, “Say . . . look at those pretty pieces of paper.”
She ignored his outburst. “Riley's sick with some Initiative thing and he's gone missing. I think he might be in the caves. If you find him and take him to the fourth floor of the hospital, you get the money.”
“Oh dear, the enormous hall monitor is sick? Tell me, is he going to die?” The very idea cheered the vampire immensely.
“He's not the only one who can die, Spike.”
“Hey, I'm just saying, if this is really important to you, then I think I ought to get half now. In fact, maybe I don’t want your money this time.”
Buffy started with surprise and growing suspicion. “You? Don’t want money? Sing me a new one, Spike!”
Spike leaned back against the sarcophagus he’d jumped off of when Buffy had made her abrupt entrance. “You want my help? I want something infinitely more valuable than money. I want to be included.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. I help you, you treat me like one of your precious little Scoobies. I get respect and friendship. I get to be included in all your adorable little Scooby meetings and I get to come along on patrol. No more picking on Spike when he’s only trying to help.”
“What’s your game, Spike. Why would you even want to come with me on patrol.”
“I’m bored. At least if I’m part of the gang I’ll have something to do. Something to kill. But I won’t be treated like the butt of your jokes. Not by one of you. You promise me I get to be one of the team and show me a little respect, and I’ll find the steroid cowboy for you.”
“Fine,” Buffy ground out between gritted teeth. “You can be a Scooby but only if you find Riley. If I find him first, deal’s off. Take this and call me if you find him.” Buffy tossed him one of the two-way radios Riley’s army buddies had provided her, “As long as you’re inside the town limits you should be able to reach me.”
He tossed the radio back at the Slayer, “Nothing doing. If you want my help you stay with me while I sniff him out. Otherwise, how do I know you won’t try to Welsh on our deal?”
“Oh yuck, Spike. There’s no way I’m watching you act like a truffle pig.”
“Then you won’t get your honey, will you? What am I supposed to do once I find the big lug? Beg him to pretty please follow me to the hospital for his own good? You want my help you’re with me every step of the way and that’s final.”
“Fine!”
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Spike couldn’t say what had made him demand what he had. Maybe it was partly that he needed to see the Slayer bend for once. Needed to make her give in. Needed to win against her just this one time even if his prize was more of her annoying company. At least she’d find it more exasperating than he would.
He could take a certain amount of pleasure making sure she was as aggravated as possible. She smelled really good when she was aggravated; almost as good as when she was fighting.
Speaking of smell, Spike stood outside the house on Revello and sniffed deeply. The boy scout had been sweating so profusely in the past few days that it was easy to pick up his scent. His heart must be doing the Macarena. Slayer was right, of course. The trail seemed to lead towards the Initiative caves. Grunting in irritation Spike took off loping towards the outside of town. He hated when she was right.
Although, hated was too strong a word, lately; it seemed more and more since he’d been chipped that his life was wrapped in cotton batting. As if he was living his life by remote control. Like he had no purpose. What’s a monster to do when he can’t be a monster any longer?
At least irritating the Slayer would help pass the time.
“He’s in there.” he declared to his unwilling companion once they’d reached the outskirts of the caves.
“I could have walked up here and announced that by myself. What makes you think you’re right?”
“Can’t avoid the stink of him, can’t I?”
“Gross, Spike!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a pig. Sing me a new one, Slayer.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed in anger at Spike’s derisive tone. He was almost disappointed when she turned and entered the cave.
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Spike was in good humor when he entered the Magic Shop the next night. No matter what happened the evening promised to be interesting. At the very least more interesting than his day had been. There was only so much television a vamp could stand before he started to stagnate. Once Timmy’d gotten out of the well it seemed the writers had lost all direction.
That had been his problem lately. Every day was the same; every night was empty. He couldn’t be true to his nature. Couldn’t hunt. Couldn’t feed. He was dying of boredom. His life was certainly a total cock up when the only remarkable thing he had to look forward to was visits from the Slayer.
Speaking of the Slayer, there she was, her mouth hanging open in shock upon his entry into the store.
“What in God’s name are you doing here, Spike?”
“Came to join in the meeting, didn’t I? I’m a Scoobie now, like you promised. When do we patrol? I want to kill something”
A bark of laughter erupted from the boy at the Slayer’s right hand side. “Looks like Spike has finally lost it. As if Buffy would ever make such an insane promise! That chip’s finally curdled your brain.”
Giles looked up from behind the counter where he was fiddling with register tape and turned in surprise towards Buffy. “Is this true? Did you make a pledge to Spike?”
Buffy’s chin jutted petulantly, “So what if I did? He’s a vampire. I said what I had to say to get him to help me find Riley. It’s not as if he’d keep a promise he made to us. Does anyone remember that he teamed up with Adam against us?”
“Buffy, don’t you think you should hold yourself to a higher standard than that of a vampire? What’s a person worth if they can’t be trusted to keep their word?”
“Giles!”
“Buffy, you made a promise. I wish you hadn’t made it. I suspect it will go badly. In the end, however, what do you feel your word is worth?”
Buffy let out a long suffering sigh, “Fine! Spike, sit down out of the way somewhere and let me forget about you until I’m ready to leave.”
Spike couldn’t believe how entertaining this was turning out to be. By the looks of things, the Slayer was well and truly upset. He moved towards the stair to sit on the landing but at the last minute changed direction to the chair on Buffy’s left and was rewarded with a jump in her pulse.
Spike sat back with a grin and waited for patrol.
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“If you’re gonna slay with me you need to keep up.” Buffy stalked through Sunnydale’s industrial section with purpose.
“Having no trouble keeping your pace, Slayer.”
“Just remember, you’re doing this at your own risk. I’m not gonna rescue you if you get out of your depth.”
“Odd. I thought you’d treat a member of the team better. That the way you’d treat Droopy Boy?”
“Xander’s my friend!”
Spike snorted, “Maybe so but you knew exactly who I was talking about.”
“Well you were!”
“I know that, but how do you know unless part of you agrees with my assessment?” Spike turned to her just in time to receive a fist in the nose. “Ow! Just like you to resort to hitting when you’re not clever enough to think of a comeback.”
She stood facing him almost sputtering in her anger. Spike had to force a smile back before she really let into him. He felt a brief pang of regret. He missed fighting the Slayer. There was a time when all he could think about was provoking her into a fistfight but that no longer held appeal since he’d lost the ability to fight back.
She finally started to speak, “I am so clever! I’m clever enough to...” before she could finish she was pushed to the ground. Spike glared stupidly at the vampire in a biker jacket who had attacked Buffy from behind.
Spike was jolted out of his surprise when the vamp chortled, “Slayer! I always wanted to kill me a slayer!”
“Who the hell do you think you are? We were talking!” Spike raged. If he couldn’t hit the slayer he certainly wasn’t going to allow this moron with bad fashion sense to touch her.
Before the newcomer could formulate a reply he was ash, drifting slowly downward and into Buffy’s hair and Spike was out one stake.
“Oh gross, Spike! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get this stuff out? For dust it’s surprisingly sticky.”
This time they both jumped when a beam of light centered on their faces. The beam ended in a flashlight which was held in the hand of a night watchman. “Whatever you kids are doing out here, you gotta keep it on the other side of the fence, okay?” He gestured with the flashlight towards the enclosure that was so beat up and ratty that Buffy and Spike had passed through it without even noticing.
“We’re already gone.” Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm and started to lead him towards the boundary.
“Hold it!” the night watchman jerked his flashlight again. “Take your glow ball with you.”
Buffy turned to wards the ground near her feet where the beam from the flashlight shone on a golden glowing crystalline sphere.
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Buffy inspected the globe; it was roughly the size of a softball, covered in a crackled surface effect and emitted a soft golden glow that lit her face like she was a fairy princess. Spike shook his head to clear it, wondering where that little bit of poetic license had sprung from.
“So what is it, luv?”
“It’s pretty.” Buffy stared into it’s depths with a bemused smile on her face.
“That all you got from your 5 minute inspection? Pretty? Is it cursed? Mystical? Radioactive? Battery operated for your pleasure?”
“How the hell should I know? Do I look like The Amazing Kreskin to you?”
“No. You look like a vampire slayer. This kind of thing should be just your cuppa. Haven’t you been doing any of the studying?”
”I never got the Slayer Handbook.” She replied distractedly
Spike erupted in laughter, “A handbook for slayers! You’ve got to be shittin me.” That got Buffy’s attention, which made Spike feel inexplicably better. Uh oh. Her face flushed with anger and before she realized what she was doing she threw the globe as hard as she could at Spike’s head. Not the kind of attention he was looking for.
The globe hit him off center and ricocheted upwards to land on a warehouse roof. Spike flew backwards onto his ass while Buffy clapped her hands to her mouth guiltily.
“Oooh! See what you made me do you stupid vampire!” She leaned to help him up. “Are you okay?”
Spike brushed his coat off with one hand while holding the bump on his skull in the other. “I’m fine you psychotic bitch! What was that for?”
“I don’t know. You made me so angry. I’m sorry.”
“S’all right. I’ll live. Remind me not to make fun of your training again.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s a touchy subject.” She turned to face the warehouse, “How in the world are we going to get the glow ball down from there?”
Spike surveyed the height of the one story building. “I could get it. One good jump, I could make that roof easy.”
“You could?”
“Yeah. Given the right incentive.”
“Spike, I’m all out of cash right now. God! I thought...”, Buffy sighed disgustedly.
“Don’t want your money.”
Buffy’s expression turned suspicious, “What exactly do you want?”
“How ‘bout a kiss?”
Spike braced himself waiting for the blow once his comment had sunk into the Slayer’s head. It never came. Instead, she stood there staring at the roof where the ball had disappeared with a thoughtful look on her face.
Finally, she turned to him, “If it will get you up on that roof so I can show the ball to Giles? Sure. One short kiss, no tongues.”
Oh ho! He couldn’t believe she was considering his demand. He had to try to push just a little farther. There was no way she wasn’t completely exasperated with him. “What are you? Four? One kiss. Short, that’s fine, but it’s got to be a real kiss.”
Buffy’s patience finally wore out. “Whatever, Spike, just get the ball.”
So he did.
Once he was back on the ground he placed the globe at his feet. Turning to Buffy with a lecherous grin...
Her fist landed so hard he hit the wall and landed in a heap. He managed to shake the punch off in time to see Buffy stalk off, globe in hand. Deep down he wanted to feel happy that he’d managed to completely make her lose her cool, but at the same moment he hit the wall he’d been hit by a realization. A frightening, no terrifying insight. He loved the Slayer. William the Bloody loved Buffy Summers. He loved her so much that any attention, even the negative attention he got from upsetting her was a prize.
What the hell was he gonna do now?
The End
