During his walk to the Bronze, he had begun to have doubts about his mission; figuring that a Master Vampire would surely be able to kill a fledgling Slayer without batting an eye. His final decision had been that even if she killed him tonight, he would do everything in his power to take Buffy with him.
Now, as he stood beneath the pulsating lights on the dance floor, Spike felt the nagging thoughts of failure, doubt flooding his mind. Was he truly ready to die tonight?
Buffy lurked in the shadows, hiding from Spike’s furious glare. She didn’t want to be here tonight and desperately wished her sire had not forced her from her sanctuary.
As she watched him, standing on the dance floor in the midst of gyrating bodies and pulsating lights, Buffy knew deep inside her un-beating heart that Spike intended to kill her tonight. Sliding against the wall, beneath the balcony’s shadows, Buffy sized up her competition, knowing that by sunrise they would fight. By sunrise, the slayer’s crumpled body would be left behind because she was not ready to die again.
Spike was shaken from his trance by the sound of his name floating across the booming music. Blinking his eyes several times, he noticed Angel waving his arms from across the dance floor trying to get his attention. Spike nodded his head towards his hulking friend to let Angel know he saw him before winding his way through the throng of writhing bodies.
“Hey! Spike’s here!” Winifred “Fred” Burkle shouted boisterously, her Texan drawl shining through. “Everyone scoot over so that he can sit down!” For someone of such small stature, Fred was very commanding and always got her way.
Once there was enough room to slide in, Spike lowered himself into the black vinyl booth where he was instantly hit with a barrage of questions from his friend Charles Gunn, who preferred to go by his last name.
“Thought you were staying at home tonight?” Gunn inquired, “Wasn’t there some bullshit story about needing to work on your American History paper?” He paused to take a sip of his suspiciously alcoholic drink. “Judging from the look on your face, studying is the last thing on your mind tonight, bro! Hmph…unless getting a piece of ass is called studying now-a-days!”
Angel was at Spike’s defense in an instant, knowing that the interrogation would be uncomfortable for him. So far, Spike had only told him of his sacred calling as a Slayer. “My guess would be that he’s either taking a break or done with it. Right?”
Spike’s foul mood progressed even further. He hated lying to his friends about what he was doing late into the night. ‘Ah, fuck it!’ He thought to himself, before taking a deep breath and preparing his little speech in his head. “Guy…er…and girl. There’s something you all should know about me.”
When he finished, Spike stared into two very surprised faces; both Fred and Gunn’s mouths hung slack-jawed, their eyes wide with amazement. “So…um…you guys gonna say anything, or were you just planning on staring at me for a bit?”
“Dude, that’s crazy! I mean…I always knew something was way off about Sunnydale, but I haven’t been here that long either. Never quite put two and two together, ya know.” Gunn commented while flagging down the waitress.
“Yeah, after being here for a while you kinda start to overlook all of the unexplained deaths that pile up in extremely high numbers.” Fred interjected, “Is that why you came out tonight? Is there something…out there?” She muttered so lightly that Spike barely heard what she said.
“Yes, pet. There is definitely something lurking out there that I fully intend on getting rid of…tonight.” Spike replied, his voice deepened to almost a growl as his darkened eyes looked out into the club, scanning for a particular target. All of the sudden, their gazes locked; azure stone staring deep into emerald pools. Spike pushed himself up from the booth, not bothering with looking back at his friends. “I’ll see you guys later.This must be taken care of tonight, other lives depend on it.”
Buffy was on the dance floor, in the middle to be exact, when his eyes locked with hers. Willow stood behind her, her body grinding against Buffy’s as they both moved in perfect tune with the beat of the music. As she watched the Slayer approach, Buffy could feel the redhead’s hands circle around her waist, effectively pulling her closer; sensing the impending threat that was nearing.
“Slayer.” Buffy stated when Spike was standing in front of her. They had quit dancing, Willow now glaring over her shoulder, hands still placed firmly around Buffy’s tiny waist.
Spike crossed his arms across his chest, trying to appear threatening, when in all honesty it was to keep his hands from shaking and showing his fear. ‘Shoulda known the bird would be with her sire. Wonder where the other one was…what was his name again?’ Before he could speak, the red head interrupted his chain of thought.
“Mmm….this one looks tasty.” Willow whispered into Buffy’s ear just loud enough for Spike to hear. “Can we keep him?” Staring directly into the Slayer’s eyes, Willow slowly traced her tongue along her childe’s jugular; while caressing the area just below Buffy’s navel, which caused the slinky material of her angled hem to ride up. She smiled as she heard his heart beat speed up, his arousal filled the air around them with a pungent aroma. ‘Pretty play thing wants what’s mine.’ She smiled devilishly as her thoughts raced through her mind. ‘Might be fun to play naughty little games with this one before dinner time."
Buffy stood there, rooted in place with desire and…oddly enough…fear. She could sense his hatred as well as his arousal, which did not surprise her; every Slayer had a death wish, but also got off on it at the same time. “No, Will. This one is just for me.” Buffy said as she pulled away from her pouting sire. “Shall we take this outside, Slayer?”
“After you.” Spike said, feigning graciousness as he gestured with his arms for her to pass. “Not like I want a soulless bloodsucker following behind me.”
Buffy cringed at his words, the hatred dripping off of them and had to admit...the last comment stung. Holding her head high, she slipped quietly between the mingling bodies and made her way out of the club.
Once outside, they faced one another in the alley. Fighting stances were taken, stakes were drawn. For the first time, Buffy waited for her opponent’s attack; which was a sharp blow to the side of her face, possibly breaking her cheekbone. In an instant, her demon emerged…fangs barred as a deep growl erupted from her throat. She pounced.
Spike prepared for the worst, but prayed for the best. He couldn’t believe that she allowed him to strike first. He had been prepared for an all out assault with out much room for his limited skills. She was lightening fast, claws scrapped at his face; he could feel rivulets of blood stream down his cheeks. Reaching out, Spike grabbed a handful of blonde hair and tossed the tiny vampire across the alley; sending her flying into a pile of crates. For a moment, confidence surged through him until he noticed Buffy laughing at him.
“Almost got lucky, didn’t you.” Buffy sneered, already back on her feet. “Hoping one of these crates would do the nasty job for you? Not gonna happen, Slayer.” With unnatural speed, Buffy crossed the span between them and kicked Spike in the chest; sending him sprawling backwards against the wall, momentarily out of breath. She followed with an assault of punches to the face, breaking his nose and splitting his lower lip.
Spike eased his hands in between them and pushed the tiny vamp away. Now that there was a small amount of space between them, he attacked again. A punch to the face, a knee in the stomach, and finally his hands were around her arm; which he managed to twist until the sickening sound of breaking bones echoed in the alley.
Buffy had had enough. Pain radiated through her body, her arm hung limply at her side. Her vision blurred red with anger; all thoughts of guilt or desire were pushed aside as she leapt upon the beaten Slayer. They fell to the grimy concrete with a thud, her body on top of his. Buffy felt his neck snap back as they landed; his eyes crossed as his vision was blurred with pain.
Pain screamed inside of his head. His world had gone black as his head bounced off the hard ground. Just as his vision started to return, Spike saw a flash of blonde hair as the vampire moved in for the kill. It was in that moment that he gave up completely.
Buffy felt the Slayer go limp, like the life had left his battered body. She pulled back, never biting into the creamy white skin on his neck. Staring down at the Slayer, face bruised and swollen, she knew that this was not how the night was supposed to go. It was too easy. With her free arm she slapped his face hard hoping to get a response, which she did not get. So she tried again….and again…and again, until the Slayer opened his pretty blue eyes.
“Why?” Spike croaked as he stared up at Buffy “Why didn’t you kill me?”
Leaning down, Buffy moved her face as close as possible to his before whispering, “Because it would be too easy. You’re supposed to fight until the death, Slayer.” Buffy crawled off her enemy, but paused for a moment before leaving. “I’ll be back. Next time give me a real challenge.” Without a final glance, the tiny blonde sashayed out of the darkened alley and headed back to the mansion; where she would rest until night fall, when it would be safe for her to leave.
Spike was still in shock as he made his way back into the Bronze. His body was beaten, bruised and most likely, broken in many spots; but most of all, he had lived. Why? He wasn’t entirely sure, but he was thankful. As he limped towards the booth his friends were occupying, knowing that in his condition he would never make it back home on his own, he wondered when he would see Buffy again.
All he knew was that next time he would be ready…