Taste of Sin
By: Jose Gonzalez
She hated him, he knew it.
He wasn’t a complete idiot after all, but it was okay, because his best friend Jack Daniel’s was here to make it better. The night before, he confessed his love for her, and what a complete disaster that had turned out. Back at the vamp’s house during the stakeout, she had known what he was going to say before he admitted it.
He admitted how he felt for her and she rejected him.
Then, Dru showed up on the scene, determined to get him to join her, Angelus, and Darla again, to claim the U.S. as they ran the rivers red with the blood of the innocent.
He couldn’t do that now, not anymore. He had fallen too deeply in love with the Slayer to return to the atrocities he had once committed. Not that it wasn’t tempting, to return to his glorious days as a true master vampire, but he couldn’t do it.
And the problem wasn’t really the chip he had in his head, his beloved sire took care of that. But being around Buffy for so long made him want to do good, she burned him from the inside out with her purity, subjecting him to change forcefully. Forcing him to love her, forcing him to allow things that never would of happened if he had still been a master vampire. He could really call himself that anymore, he had been castrated, with or without the fucking chip.
What he felt for Buffy Summers was real. It didn’t matter if Buffy and her friends denied it, he knew it was all too real. They could deny his love, but Spike knew it was there, burning brightly like a soul…
A soul… The very reason why Buffy would never love him, because he wasn’t good or clean, being a soulless master vampire. He was monster enough for the Slayer, but not human enough for Buffy.
It royally pissed him off that he could love her like that. She could humiliate and mortify him with her words and abuse him with her fists, yet he would still love her.
It really sucked being love’s bitch. He drank another shot of Jack Daniel’s, numbing his mind a little, in an attempt to cut off the emotions that threatened to burst through.
If somehow he’d get a soul, it would be okay, and everything would fall into place. He knew she was physically attracted to him, he could smell her arousal whenever she was near him, but his lack of moral compass, and it forced her to deny what they could possibly have. He clung to that spark of hope like a starving, homeless man, one who hoped life would get better, one who stopped for nothing until he died. He would fight for Buffy’s love and affection, until the day he dusted.
Even if it was today.
He hoped his life would get better, because he felt it couldn’t get any worse.
He drank some more. There was enough liquor in his system to kill a human with alcohol poisoning, yet he continued drinking. The world began to spin, tears blurring his eyes. He loved her, and it was slowly killing him. Memories clouded around him, the first time he saw her at the Bronze, helping her with Acathla. He could dust himself over and over for her and she’d never believe his love.
*I’m a evil, soulless, thing. I’m beneath her.*
His front door opened, sunlight streaming through the crypt, she appeared, his golden goddess, his Slayer. She encompassed a beauty so great, it damn near mirrored perfection. Beautiful, golden hair flowing flawlessly off her shoulders, eyes like jade. She was beautiful. She was …
… Effulgent.
He shoved William back into the recesses of his mind and stared at her in amazement. He stood to face her, nearly stumbling in his drunken state.
*I love her so much.*
“Slayer. I seem to recall you revoked my invitation into your home, yet you think its okay to burst into my home?” He drawled, hiding his rising anger.
She strode over to him, punched him savagely in the face, and knocked him into his sarcophagus.
“You call this a home, Spike?” she asked bitterly, recalling last night’s events.
“No. That would be admitting this hellhole of a town is home to me, and it’s not. But, this place is mine, Slayer, so tell me what you want or sod off. ” he said slowly, tears of humiliation welling up in his eyes.
“Why don’t you leave then, Spike?” she asked softly, already dreading the answer before he spoke.
“I think you know why.”
“I think you think you have some sort of feeling for me, but we know that’s not true. You don’t have a…”
“If you say the word *soul*, I’m going to break your neck and sink my fangs into it,” Spike warned her, his eyes flashing golden for an instant and strutting over to her.
“I get to make the threats here.” She snapped, punching him in the nose, breaking it, sending twin streams of blood from his nose.
Indignation showed on his face, but she didn’t care. “You don’t have a soul. You can’t love. This is just some sick, perverted phase you’re going through. Seems like a mid-unlife crisis.” Buffy finished, punching him in the stomach.
He bent over in pain, but didn’t cry out. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “Just tell me what you want, and get out.” Spike spat out, blood trailing from his lips.
“I want you to get out of town. I want you to stay away from my friends and family. Just leave Spike. When I come back tomorrow, I want you gone from my life.” Buffy replied, reaching into her waistband for her stake.
“And, if I tell you to sod off and don’t listen?” Spike asked, tilting his head.
“I get to stake you. I mean it. You don’t love me, so stop thinking you do. Get over this sick obsession.”
He threw the bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he had been holding against the wall, smashing into pieces. “You think I haven’t bloody well tried to? I don’t want to love you. You’re supposed to be everything I hate, you’re just another heartless bitch who happens to kill my kind.” Spike shouted in anger, tears streaming down his face, his love rejected once again.
“Try harder.” She yelled, giving him another crippling punch, and sending him flying across the room into a wall.
He slumped down, his ribs cracked.
“I want to hate you. I want to be able to kill you. But, we know that’s not happening, so just stake me now, because I’m never leaving.” Spike responded, blue pain-filled eyes staring back at her.
“Because you have a chip, or else it’d be an all-you-can-eat-buffet for you.” Buffy yelled vehemently.
“It’s not because of the chip. It’s because I love you.”
“No, if it weren’t for that chip in your head, I’d be dead.” Buffy began backing away from the crying vampire.
“Chip’s already out and I haven’t killed you, yet. Drusilla took care of that problem for me.” Spike said, a grim smile on his face.
“The chip’s out?” Buffy was dumbfounded. Her most dangerous enemy had returned. She was sure if she should be happy or angry. Now she had an excuse to stake the miserable son of a bitch. She could stake him and walk away happily because he wasn’t neutered anymore.
“Yeah. Yet, you’re still alive. Got any other excuses, pet?”
“I can’t let you leave Sunnydale alive now.” Buffy charged, sending a harsh kick to his face, snapping his head sideways into cement.
He didn’t put up a fight.
She slammed his face into the sarcophagus, his nose breaking, blood streaming out of the broken cartilage. He tried to cover his face, but she landed a sickening punch to his cheek that broke his sculpted cheekbone. He fell to the floor of the crypt and she walked up to him, landing a bone-crunching kick to his ribs. Blood began dribbling from his mouth, spattering it all over the deck. He screamed, he cried, but she never stopped.
Minutes later, his face was an unrecognizable pulp, both eyes swollen completely shut, every bone cracked, his spinal cord crushed, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down.
That didn’t stop her from attacking, as she vented all her problems, Riley leaving, her sick mother, her sister being a unknown key, and the hell bitch Glory. All her anger meshed into one, her fists pounded into him, leaving him on the floor of the crypt, completely broken.
Tears dripped from Buffy’s face.
She couldn’t believe what she had done. Seeing his body so beaten opened the closed barriers in her, the emotional shutdown that she experienced after Angel left her, her defenses were destroyed, as tears poured out of her fragile body.
She ran away from him.
“I…” He tried to talk, but his lips were swollen from her fists and he couldn’t talk.
She couldn’t look at him anymore. It was too bad.
“I love… I love you.” he finally spoke and passed out.
With one last look, she said, “I know.” She opened the door to the crypt, leaving as sunlight streamed in.
Spike’s body smoldered and smoked.
As she walked away, tears streaming down her face, a demon screamed as it unwillingly turned to ash.
The End
Author's Chapter Notes:
Please don't hate me. Constructive criticism is allowed, no flaming , and no idiotic reviews left by Spangel lovers. Sorry to be truthful. Okay I just wanted to clarify things up, one, this fic is not happy. Read the disclaimers, it does say violence and charachter death. So if you choose to read, don't complain about it afterwards unless it's constructive. Two, there's a WIP following this little fic called, Taste of Death. Yes people, a sequel. So no more annyoing reviews please.