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Breaking the Habit

Chapter Two

A Shadow in the Distance


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The crystalline moon shone down through the thick, black night sky. All was still in the graveyard except for the occasional chirp of a cricket and sound of the wind blowing over and through the tombstones. Buffy Summers was unusually uneasy tonight, and she wasn’t sure why. At every whistle from the wind she spun around, stake in hand, poised to kill. But nothing was ever there, and she began to wonder if it was just her imagination.

Exhausted she looked at her watch, 2:00 A.M., she had 3 to 4 more hours of the watch. This was going to be a very long night. She sat on a marker, not something she would usually do but she was still recuperating from the night of hardly any rest, and the patrol didn’t make it any easier. She never would have noticed the figure anyway, it was more experienced, lethal and lithe, agile in a way she had never seen. Before she even felt its fangs pierce her neck there was no warning, its touch was hypnotic and not alarming, so she was calm until the familiar pain of having her throat ripped out struck.

She grunted and kicked at it, sending it flying backwards and as she pressed her hand to her bleeding throat it leapt onto her, reattaching itself to the delicate flesh, more ready for her fight, so when she struggled it just held her to the ground. The creature smiled in triumph, within minutes, the slayer would be dead.

Just as it began to withdraw blood from her jugular two strong hands clutched his shoulder’s and ripped him off of the young woman, who again desperately clasped the wound to stop her bleeding. Spike brutally fought the creature and just as he had the advantage the vampire screeched and became a shower of dust, falling and leaving Buffy, staring forward, stake in hand. She pitched to the ground with a moan and he quickly descended after her, ripping part of his shirt away and quickly tying it around her neck securely.

She looked at him and groaned. “I’m really starting to suck at this.” She shook her head. “I can’t handle it. I’m just too tired.”

He shook his head. “You don’t suck you’re just . . . Ok you suck, but not completely, cutie. You just need your rest and you’re going to get it if I have to sit on you. First, you’d better get that throat looked at.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t hand me that, I’ll drag you if I have too.” He emphasized his point by lifting her up and beginning to carry her away.

“Ugh! Spike! Put me down! I can walk!” she struggled helplessly.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh, I don’t trust you, the clinic’s just a few minutes walk away.”

“Spiiiiiiike!”

“Oh stop you’re whining! You know Summers, as much as I love you, you really can be a pain in the ass!”

Woozy, she chuckled. “Look at all the pretty colors!”

He rolled his eyes and smiled lightly. A giddiness took him as he realized how this looked, him, a vampire carrying her, the slayer to the hospital after she’d been attacked. And then there was always the teensy fact that he was thrilled by the feel of her in his arms, trusting and helpless. But it’s not like he cared for her . . .


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“It’s almost sunup. You should go.” Buffy murmured as they trudged through the cemetery lawn, an awkward, insensible feeling put both of them uneasy.

He shook his head after a pause. “No, I’m going to make sure you get home all right, and that you go to bed.”

She gazed at him incredulously. “Are you crazy? By the time you get me in and get out the sun’ll be up and you’ll be fried!”

He shrugged. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He firmly took her hand and continued to look on as she gazed at him, she shifted slightly.

“W-well. I guess we could keep you in the basement if you promise to behave.”

He avoided a grin of triumph. “I guess that would work, though truthfully a place right next to you in the bed would be better, and before you even glare at me and take it back I know, cold day in hell.”

Embarrassed by her obviousness she looked away from him, then back to him when he squeezed her hand. “It’s all right Buffy. I don’t care, I’ve slept in a basement before.”

“No it’s, I’m so horrible to you, Spike.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re careful. That’s a good thing. Maybe I’ll get lucky one day.”

She sighed. “Maybe. . .”

They made their way into the house and Buffy groggily grabbed two blankets, and a pillow from the linen closet and handed them to Spike. “There’s a cot down there, lucky you, and the shades are down. There are light’s if you want, I’m sure you’ll figure them out.”

He followed her up the stairs and to her room, where she fell to the bed. “If you need anything, somehow come up here, maybe in a blanket.” she buried her face in the pillow and to his surprise fell asleep almost immediately. He set the things down in her doorway and made his way over to her, turned her onto her back and pulled her blanket over her. He paused a moment, then leaned in, pressed his lips to her cheek. “Sweet dreams.” He murmured.

He sighed and turned, avoiding anger as he saw Willow, Tara and Dawn all huddled in the door, grinning madly. He lifted a finger to his mouth, then moved out, closed the door and gathered his things. He went down the stairs to the empty, dank basement save the washer and dryer and a cot in another room. He went in and lay down, tired from the long night.


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Buffy stirred in her sleep, a dark figure moved past her, and she turned to gaze upon it but the angle of the light made them appear a shadow. She moved to them, pressed her hand to their shoulder but they disappeared into nothing.

She spun around to see Spike, leaning against a wall, arms crossed smiling at her. He wore his usual black t-shirt and pants, and the red button up shirt he had worn the night he had sung to her, and she felt herself blush as he gazed at her. “What are you looking at?”

He moved from the wall and came closer so he was only inches away. “The woman I love.” She didn’t resist as he reached out and touched her cheek, and before she knew anything she fell into his arms, cheek pressed to his pulse less chest. The comfort she received from this single embrace was like what she had wanted so long. “There’s only one way we can be together Buffy.”

“How?” she murmured, not truly thinking, just going along with the dream.

He bent and ripped her throat open, drank a bit then let her drink from his neck and just as she felt she’d die, she woke with a start, the dream of Spike siring her just that, a dream. She sat up and stretched a bit, wiped some sweat from her brow and remembered Spike was here. She looked at the time and hurried from her room down the stairs to the kitchen, read a note from Willow, then went to the fridge. She pulled out the orange juice and poured herself a glass, put it back, drank it and paused. She sighed and opened the door to the basement and went down.

He was on the cot, eyes closed and he seemed comfortable enough. She moved closer and watched him some more, then bit her lip. Maybe she’d had that dream for a reason. Not to say he’d rip her throat out or sire her, but to say he could give her the comfort she wanted. An idea sparked and she quickly went upstairs, wrote him a be back soon note and opened the basement door, taped it to the opposite side, and hurried out. She had to stop by the Magic Box to let Willow and Tara know she needed the house to herself until around ten, and asked them to take Dawn around with them. Then she went to the liquor store to get a bottle of wine.


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She returned and set the bottle in ice to chill, then got some candles out and lit the living room with them. She brought the ice bucket along with two glasses into the room and sighed. This would have to do. She went into the kitchen just as the basement door opened and he stepped out and looked at her. “You’re back.”

Nervously her hands flitted in a careless gesture. “Yeah, I just needed a couple of things. I . . . Hope you don’t have plans.”

He closed the door and leaned against it. “No, why?”

She shrugged. “Well I had a nice little thought that we might be able to talk, maybe get a little more cozy.”

His expression betrayed his amusement and he move slightly closer. “Cozy? My dear slayer have you been drinking?”

“Not yet.” She nervously moved closer. “Spike I had a dream and, well we hugged and, and it felt nice. Good. Comforting. Like... Oh screw it.” She abandoned reason and threw herself into his arms, relieved that it was even more solace than it had been in her dream. Her face pressed into his chest she felt him slowly return the embrace and then rest his cheek in her hair.

“I must be dreaming. Buffy... are you sure?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not sure I love you, I’m not sure I want you, catch my drift. I’m not sure of much, but I’m sure I need you Spike.”

She slowly brought herself away and pulled the dazed night creature by the hand into the living room, sat with him on the couch and uncorked the wine. “Now, let’s get to know each other, shall we?”


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He watched her laugh, glass half full of wine in one hand, her other hand secured tightly in his. Her golden hair swung down as she bent her head, still laughing and she lifted it again, giggling now, gazing at him. She calmed slightly as their eyes met, then she smirked and turned away, finished off the wine and set it down, addressed him as seriously as she could. “Spike, I need to tell you something. I’m drunk.”

He smiled softly, then made a mock expression of disappointment. “What a shame, I guess you’ll have to go to bed early.”

She laughed again and fell sideways into his arms, staring up at the ceiling she calmed an sighed. He held her a bit, just silently watching her, thanking God, or whoever was responsible for having her open up so much. She shifted and looked up at him. “I’ve known a lot of guys, but I’ve never felt this safe with one.”

He smiled down at her. Didn’t say a word, just reached out and brushed some hair from her face, felt his emotion swell in his throat as he gazed down at her, and then the tears came. He quickly looked away as he suppressed sobs and she sat up. “Spike? What is it? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and gave a shuddery breath, his voice was choked by the tightness of emotion in his throat, he didn’t look at her, but responded. “This bloody world, that’s what. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d have lost you.”

She smiled softly, weakly and lay her head against his chest. “You can’t be afraid of death Spike, or losing someone to it.” She sighed. “Being dead is so much simpler. Every aspect of it.”

He sniffled and took her hands in his. “Promise me you’ll stay here, you won’t just give up your life to live simpler, it’ll heal Buffy, it’ll all heal.”

She nuzzled his throat. “I can’t stay forever Spike, I’m going to get old one day, and I’ll die then and you, you’ll still be young and handsome and active. And you’ll find someone else.”

“Never,” he interrupted. “There’ll never be anyone else. I’d give up immortality for you, if I could find a way I would. I’d be normal just to be with you.”

“Spike....”

“I know we aren’t there or close but don’t you see? This is a step!”

“Don’t get caught up on me Spike, it might never change, we might always be good friends.”

“If you can dream so can I.”


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Meh, attack of the fluff. Well, let me know what you think, what I’ve screwed up and etc.





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