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Chapter 6


“I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”

###

Buffy pulled on her high-collared, long black coat, grabbed a weapon and shoved it in her bag. "I’m leaving,” she shouted at the bathroom door. She figured Spike was still on the other side, still pissed because she hadn’t said anything to him since they’d untangled themselves from the bathroom floor.

He’d behaved like a fledgling and Buffy wasn’t having it. This wasn’t the time or the place to have an in depth discussion about what had happened between them. Vampires didn’t do that sort of thing. Talk, talk, and talk about everything they did or said or thought. Besides to Buffy, the memory of it was bad enough.

Clutching at his body, screaming out his name, the orgasm exploding inside her and all around her. She hadn’t been able to think about anything but Spike and what he was doing to her. His hands and his mouth, his lips and his tongue, caressing her, making her shake, making her want to feel him everywhere.

It was just too intense and she hadn’t liked it. Well, not too much.

So, as soon as they’d both finished, she’d jumped up from the floor (which was where they’d ended up) and fled.

In the bedroom of the suite, away from Spike, she’d fallen asleep for a while before calling room service. She’d needed a big ass glass of blood. Something to settle her stomach because her brain wouldn't stop churning.

God. She’d gotten off without biting. It made her shiver to think about it. But she couldn’t shake the thought. An orgasm? Without biting. She’d let him kiss her, too. Buffy hadn’t kissed anything since the night she was turned.

###

Club Zero, of all places, ended up being the place where Buffy and Spike were supposed to find Horace Cross, the fresh water-dealing demon.

The two of them had managed to get their minds back on business after the wild sex on the bathroom floor. Spike listened to her plan and agreed it made sense. Although, he was still the most peculiar vampire she’d met in LA, which she mentioned once or twice during the course of their discussion. She also reminded him that considering most everyone in LA was a vamp, calling him the oddest of them all was saying quite a bit.

He hadn’t said much after that--for a change. Just gave her a smug smile, which barely turned up one side of his mouth. She shook her head and turned her back to him. But she couldn't stop thinking he had a very sexy smile.

Now Buffy was tiptoeing into the main lobby of Club Zero, teetering on her high heel shoes. She could barely make it through the double doors her ankles wobbled so badly. It was Spike who had insisted she wear them. He said the crowd in the bar wouldn’t recognize the two of them as cops if they dressed like human beings. She had no idea where he’d found the clothes, but she agreed.

But Spike hadn’t given her a pair of fancy high-heel shoes, a slinky black dress and push-up bra, just to see her sprawled face-down on Club Zero’s sticky floor. She grabbed a nearby ledge to steady her ankles.

Once standing hands-free, Buffy took a moment to look around.

The Club was packed with party-goers, mostly male vampires, interestingly enough, standing, or sitting at square tables. On the dance floor, there was a stage she hadn’t noticed the last time she'd been there, illuminated by thin rays of red and orange light coming from fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The way the light sliced through the darkness reminded Buffy of the nightclubs she’d seen in LA in 1999, with strobe lights flashing and hip-hop music blaring.

She spotted Spike on the other side of the room, leaning against a wall. Next to him, or draped over him, was a lanky, red-headed female vampire wearing a brightly colored blouse, hanging seductively off one shoulder. Her hand was beneath Spike’s shirt and a leg was wrapped around his hip. Spike probably called it blending in, but it looked more like him being used as a fucking pole (and she meant that literally).

Buffy headed toward the twosome then changed her mind and veered toward the stage. Getting as close as she could, she still couldn’t see over the heads of the vampires milling around, not even in three-inch heels. A nearby empty chair looked like the leg-up she needed and she stepped up onto the seat cushion.

That was when the crowd went silent.

A shapely vampire girl with long dark hair strolled onto the stage wrapped in a long white coat covered with feathers. Her eyes were shut as her brightly painted mouth slowly curled into a smile. Raising her head, she blinked her thickly lashed eyes open as the music cut through the silence. It was a raw sound, the strumming of a base guitar, backed up by the rap-rap-rap of a drummer’s sticks on the skins. The vocal came in next as the girl shed her coat. Her naked body was stunning, although the way she moved to the music was what captivated Buffy. She could have been alone in the room the way she swayed with abandon, her hips rotating seductively as the singer’s rough voice drowned out the guitar and the drums.

Buffy shivered. This vampire looked familiar. Turning, Buffy searched for Spike. He had to know her, too.

Then Buffy felt the room turn upside down and inside out, and she was half-way in another nightclub, straddling two worlds. In one, the long-legged brunette wearing a G-string was swinging her hair to the music in the center of the stage. In the other world, Buffy wore high-heeled boots, slim black jeans, an Armani sweater and diamond hoop earrings. She also was walking through a cemetery in the sunshine and she carried a stake. Not the traditional weapon for a vampire in 2082.

Buffy looked at the girl dancing on the stage. Suddenly she knew her name. It was Faith, and the redhead with Spike was Willow. They both lived in the world where Buffy carried a stake. And in that world, they weren’t vampires. Fuck. In that world, neither was Buffy.

###

The crowd roared and Buffy’s eyes keyed in on the vampire girl dancing on the stage. The trip to the other time zone, or world, or dimension, or wherever the hell it had been, was over. And yeah, unsettling as all shit, but Buffy wasn’t going to let a bit of madness stop her from doing her job. She looked around for Cross and Spike.

Still curiosity killed the cat for a reason. So first, Buffy had to get a better look at the vampire on the stage. She leaned forward precariously on the seat cushion. Then suddenly, her heel slipped and the floor rushed up to her.

But an instant before she lay face-first on the tile, a strong hand grabbed her arm, keeping her from crashing.

“You okay, Buffy?”

What? She thought. Who's this? “I’m fine.” She couldn't see his face. “I’m fine.” She repeated, attempting to escape his grasp. He held her tightly around the waist. Her fangs emerged instinctively and she got ready for a fight. But he was strong, stupid strong, and she was trapped.

“You seem to be interested in the dancer, too”, he said casually.

Buffy recognized his voice and jerked her body sideways in another attempt to get away. She’d remembered him from the other night when she and Spike were chasing Cross at the mansion.

“Faith is lovely.” Dr. Xander Harris’ lips moved next to her ear. “One of the more perfect females I’ve seen in any world, in any time zone.” His mouth was moist against Buffy’s cheek. “Well, except for you, Buffy.”

“Thanks.” She managed a light tone. “But I don’t know her, and I wasn’t watching her.”

The doctor spun Buffy around to face him. “Don’t lie to me. You were watching Faith. Who wouldn’t? And you recognized her?" He grabbed her jaw. "Have you figured out who you are?”

He forced her to look up at him. “Come on Buffy, I need you to remember who you are sooner than later. We’re running out of time.”

Buffy struggled in his arms, wondering where in the hell was Spike. He had to see she was in trouble.

Harris pointed at the stage. “That’s Faith. She’s a vampire slayer, just like you. Well, she is in the real world. Here she's a vampire.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Buffy said. “There aren’t any such things as vampire slayers. Haven’t been in seventy-five years.”

“Damn,” Harris said and let her go. “I’m here on borrowed time. It took all of Willow’s strength to get me into this hell.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy said, but she knew. She just didn't want to admit it. She’d been in that world Harris mentioned. And only a few minutes before she'd remembered Faith and Willow, the redhead hanging all over Spike. She also knew that in that world, she carried a stake and could stand in the sunshine. Shit. There was even sunshine in that world.

Harris had called it hell, or had he called 'this world' hell?

Whatever, Buffy shrugged. She had to accept the possibility of one thing. In that world, she was a vampire slayer.

Buffy shook her head. Now, how unnatural was that?

to be continued...





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