Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi. this is my first fic EVER, so tell me what you think. Lindsay and I have collaborated and shes really helping me with this.
Chapter 1: One Girl…To Stand Alone…
Preface

He was gone. There was no way around it. Taken from her forever in a swirl of fire and ashes; dust and regrets: Dead for the final time. She was stupid, she knew it. She should have said she loved him far before his final seconds here on earth. It was a cheap copout to tell him she loved him in his last moments. She berated herself relentlessly about the things she did to him on a daily, if not hourly, basis. She cried herself to sleep every night, her mouth opened in a silent scream, her mind saying the things she couldn’t, no, the things she wouldn’t voice to any other person.

No one knew how terrible she really felt inside; how her wounds themselves were vampires, feeding off her will to go on. No one saw how torn up she was at losing the only man that had NEVER left her willingly, the one that loved her always, the one whose love had burned so brightly it had taken out the first face evil had ever known. They were happy enough to believe that she was having the time of her life with the Immortal. She worked tirelessly at convincing everyone around her that Spike didn’t matter, that she had only seen him as her strongest ally and therefore only put up with him because of that. They were happy enough to believe her so long as she wasn’t interrupting everyone else’s newly and carefully constructed lives. They were always happy to believe her as long as she lied to them.

They never noticed the small looks of disgust that she couldn’t hide when He touched her. It went unnoticed, or perhaps it was simply unimportant to them, how much time she spent up in her room, coming down strictly when she had to put on a show for them at meal times, like a puppet on tired, broken strings. She left her apartment only to slay and keep up appearances with the Immortal.

No one noticed anything, ever. All too caught up in their own perceptions of her happiness to see how the person that had saved them all was slowly becoming a shell of her former vivacious self. She thought about everyone, not just Spike, all the time. Thought about how they never came looking for her to go out, or spend time together, how they never called her or even texted her just to say hi.

Dawn had a new boyfriend, some Italian jock from the university she attended that she had met and fallen for. Dawn had little time for anyone else but herself, she hadn’t even bothered call Buffy in almost two weeks.

Buffy couldn’t blame her; if she was in love with a hot Italian stallion she would look for every opportunity possible to be with him too. But Buffy didn’t have an Italian Stallion she had fallen for; she didn’t even have a pony. Her love was buried under the town she had destroyed, condemned forever to rest as a pile of ash just inside of what used to be the entrance to the Sunnydale hell mouth. But that wasn’t true was it? No, he had destroyed the town, and she had destroyed the man.

Willow, well Willow had gone off the grid somewhere in Brazil, Kennedy in tow, and if there was one person Buffy couldn’t stand to be around, it was Kennedy. They kept in touch through email, but at times it seemed so impersonal that she couldn’t imagine it was Willow writing to her. It seemed like an automaton was sending her correspondences, rather than the girl that was supposed to be her best friend.

Buffy hadn’t talked to Xander in almost four months. The last time they had spoken he called and told her that he was taking an extended vacation and that he would be back when his head was screwed on straight. He’d hung up the phone without a goodbye and that was the last she’d heard from him. But then that was Xander to a tee, expecting everyone to fall in line with what his black and white vision regardless of who he hurt in the process.

‘Willow has a message…kick his ass’. That had been his first real betrayal.

Giles had little time for anyone these days, though he sent her weekly reports that she suspected he was paying someone else to do. They were always the same, bland and boring with small notes asking her to take care of certain nasty’s that couldn’t be contained. Her father figure had turned into her boss, he too was buried somewhere in the remnants of Sunnydale with her mother. She was hurt by the fact that it seemed like he no longer cared for her, because like everyone else he was only too happy to believe that she was fine, that she didn’t desperately need someone notice her deterioration, to help her keep on living, like Spike had so long ago begged of her.

Sadly enough it was Andrew she was around the most. Annoying, Star *insert whatever* fan Andrew. Giles had happily sent him with her to Italy for watcher training, even though everyone but Andrew knew it was simply to get him out of Giles’ hair. Andrew though annoying and often ripe smelling, was far too geeky for anyone to handle in large doses, but he had this inane ability to distract her from her problems and grant her some fragments of the peace she needed.

Present time


She went out with the Immortal to kill time and make it look like she was living life to the fullest. They went to dinners and movies and various other activities that kept her mind off of the things she had lost, on the surface anyway. This was the first time that he had taken her dancing, having deigned himself too important to partake in such trivial and mortal endeavors. Which was why she was surprised when he had suggested it. It suited her just fine though as she preferred not to be so close to his looming body. Often times, by the end of an evening out with him, she found herself wondering just how immortal he really was, fingers itching to find out.

The beat pounded, all around her bodies were heaving to and fro to the tempo of the music. She was lost to the feel of it pulsing on her skin, making her clothes vibrate with every thrum of the bass. The Immortal and all his lackeys were reclining on a couch, watching her, leering. She ignored them all in favor of losing herself to the music. It was often during times like this that she could blissfully let herself forget, for a few moments at least, that she had lost Spike and why she was with someone as pompous and annoying as the immortal. And every time, every single time she contemplated those thoughts she came up with the same answer: boredom.

She was dancing, letting loose for the first time since Sunnydale had collapsed. She felt free. Free to close her eyes and pretend that the countless bodies gyrating around her gave off even and iota of the warmth Spike’s cool body had always provided. When her eyes were closed her platinum blond lover was always there, sweet and naughty nothings pouring into her ear. But most importantly, when her eyes were closed she could feel his arms around her, could feel that her tragically timed ‘I love you’ had been understood for what it was, the truth.

She thought she was imagining it at first. The way her skin tingled and goose bumps rose on her arms. She stopped dancing; almost paralyzed with hope that he was really there, that he wasn’t a pile of dust under thousands of pounds of wreckage. Moving off of the dance floor in a blur of motion she hunted for him through the mass of people crowding the overly popular club. She pushed her way passed sweating bodies and grinding couples, following his special signature – the one that had always screamed inside her to go to him, hoping against hope that he was really there and that she hadn’t finally lost her mind.
As she pushed her way past a bouncer on her way to the door, she saw him; a white blonde head attached to a leather encased body and her heart stopped. She started to yell out his name, only to be stopped short by the man she had come with.

His greasy black hair and even greasier face swam into her vision blocking the one thing in the entire world she wanted. His voice snaked over the music and slithered to her ears, making white hot rage boil in her veins.

“Now Bella, what is it exactly do you think you’re doing? You belong with me now. You belong to me. I know we haven’t…made it official yet but. Really mi amore, he is a loser and will not be long for this world anymore. Come back with me now Bella. My most beautiful slayer, come with me, dance, be happy. You are loved by none other than the infamous Immortal.”

His disgusting hands were creeping over her arms, making fresh waves of goose bumps rise along their lengths. Nausea rolled in her stomach, threatening to let loose a torrent of sick all over the “infamous Immortal”.

Wrenching her body free from his vermin like hands, she started to scream at him over the pounding music. “I AM NOT YOURS DAMN IT! IM SPIKE’S, I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN AND I ALWAYS WILL BE.” As she yelled, she started towards him, pausing only to raise her tiny fists to let loose a flurry of furious punches, every word being punctuated by a hard hit to his face, “YOU…WILL…NOT…TOUCH…HIM…!”

By the time she had, landed three hits he was on the ground and the members of his entourage were forcefully shoving aside people in their quest to get to their master. When she was done yelling, she kicked him viciously in the side over and over again while his guards tried to frantically pull the now psychotic slayer off him.

It took five demon guards to suppress her and hold her long enough for the Immortal to get off of the clubs floor. He gracefully rose without the help of any of his people, pulling a silk handkerchief from the lapel of his jacket as he did so. As he mopped the blood from his badly bruised face he began to laugh mirthlessly. “Well Bella, I didn’t expect that, but I suppose it comes with possessing the slayer. Ahh, in time you will get to know your place, but for now I have to go and take care of that blonde headed nuisance once and for all. I shall see you when I get home Bella.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek and she found herself trying not to retch.

He turned to look at his guards before selecting the largest two from the bunch. “Mario, Antonio you will find me Spike and bring me his ashes. Do it any way you must, but he must be dust before sunrise. Are we to understand?” they nodded their assent before he spoke again, “Good. I shall meet you at the Piazza when you are done with your task.”

Dismissing them, he once again turned to Buffy and her captors, “Take Bella to my villa in Amalfi, I shall meet you there in a few days.” He looked at her again, seeing the fury written on her face and the anger burning in her eyes and uttered one more sentence before departing, “Lock her up and drug her if you must.”


Chapter End Notes:
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