Chapter 5

Her surprise quickly evaporated, changing back to her normal expression of annoyance even though deep down she was pleased to see him. It had been a shitty day, and right now she was more than willing to let him take it all away. Not that she would ever tell him that.

Spike moved seamlessly to the music not missing a beat, while his hands roamed down to her hips and slipped slightly under the edge of her shirt. He caressed her bare skin, rubbing slow circles with his fingertips sending tiny electric shocks down her body.

Buffy shuddered and inched closer to his chest, mesmerized by the light strokes of his cool fingers sending her gaze deeper into his haunted blue eyes. She was lost to the sensation of just being; nothing mattered but the beat as she moved her body in sync with his. It felt natural and right.

And it scared the hell out of her.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” Her voice sounded more like a hiss than the casual tone she meant for him.

Spike’s eyebrow rose. “What does it look like, luv? I’m danc….”

“Hey man, I saw her first.” The preppy guy Buffy danced with earlier looked irritated as he reached for Buffy’s arm to pull her away. But Spike pulled her closer to his side, out of his reach.

Buffy rolled her eyes, not in the mood for a pissing contest so she tried to pull away and handle the situation before things got heated, but Spike held her in place. Not wanting to cause a scene, and for once more than happy to let someone handle the situation, she let Spike deal with it. If it came to blows, she could always jump in, but right now she would just sit back and watch.

“Piss off wanker. Go find yourself another, this one’s mine.”

“I think the girl can speak for herself,” he said pointing his gaze at Buffy.

Before she could speak, Spike took a step closer to the guy while holding her close to his side. The air charged, her vampire senses heightened as the hairs on the back of her neck stood while she watched Spike change into gameface.

His entire body tightened, a low rumble emitting from his chest as he stared down the guy, daring him to say anything else. Before anyone else could notice his change, his human features fell back into place, giving the now sputtering guy a sinister grin.

Playing the part, Buffy rolled her eyes and gave Spike a disapproving look. Inward, she laughed at the guy’s response as he rushed away, disappearing into the crowd. It only proved to her that she wasn’t normal, and no guy could ever be okay with what she was. She was destined to be alone, and the reminder sat heavy.

Spike laughed as he turned his attention back to her, grabbing her waist to continue their dance like nothing had happened.

“Really Spike? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Spike smirked, clearly happy with himself and his display of dominance.

Buffy tried to push away, but he pulled her tighter against him holding her hand close to his chest. She tried to yank it away but not at full strength, willing him to tightened his grip. Frustrated with herself, she growled at him and he laughed.

“Nice try, pet. But I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiled at her and leaned forward. “By the way, love the look.”

Her body flushed with pleasure, as she tried not to show any approval in his comment. Instead, she kept up her indifference knowing good and well he would appreciate her rebellious behavior. She couldn’t understand why but something held her back from showing him any kind of response.

Deep down she was excited with her spontaneity, her first small baby step in claiming something for herself. There was so little she was able to control in her life, and this felt like the one thing she could do anything she wanted, one area she could dictate. So she had said fuck it, and did something she secretly always wanted.

“It was something to do,” she said looking around the club, trying to avoid his eyes.

“Black leather and pink streaked hair,” he said awe bleeding through his eyes as ran his fingers through her hair.

The contact captivated her as she looked up and everything disappeared but him. His eyes shone with adoration and love, and then it was gone.

“Are you trying to torture me?” He questioned her.

Everything about that moment felt real. But goddamn it, this was Spike! There was no way she could feel this way about how he looked at her, touched her.

Shame filled her. Her eyes lowered, anxiety pulling her deep inside as desperation poured through.

“I didn’t do it for you.” Her voice was shrill.

“Whatever you say, pet.”

Buffy ignored his comment and continued to sway to the music even though she knew she should push him away. But for once she felt content without the influence of alcohol, and she couldn’t pull herself away.

Last night was the first time since her return that she felt anything. It was all a whirlwind of emotions and even a small dose of fun. It was her first deep breath. Before, she was sputtering water trying to catch her breath when finally she got that first deep inhale before another wave pulled her back under. It almost held hope. But it all washed away that morning when the reality of everything moved her to the truth.

If not for that moment, she would have never stood up to her friends and left. Certainly her former self would have caved, but something in her couldn’t bring herself to subject herself to their will. Ultimately, it gave her the resolve to make the bold move at the salon. Even though she almost chickened out and left.

Right after the hairdresser left her in the chair to mix her color, she panicked. Her gut tightened as she looked into the mirror in front of her. Her eyes were lifeless. She could see it. Spike could see it. Maybe even Dawn. But no one else did.

They were oblivious.

It hurt to think about their happy stares. Even more difficult to think about the leadership they were pushing her to restore within their group. Right now they were scattered, all living their own lives. She felt like an outsider looking into a life she once had, but couldn’t remember living. It all felt like a memory, the only thing that felt real was now.

Spike moved his hips into her, as she allowed him to maneuver her body to the beat. It took away her thoughts, nothing else mattering except for the way their bodies moved. So in sync with each other, moving in a way that only two could know after the passage of time. Their history, even though jaded at best, made her feel the slightest tingle of recognition.

The feeling made her smile at him.

“You’re a good dancer.”

“And you’re surprised how?” Spike laughed softly to himself. “Let’s just say I was trained to be this way baby.”

“And a whole world of huh?” Buffy replied, confusion written all over her face.

Spike laughed even harder. “Another story for another time, luv.”

The song ended, and Buffy started to pull away, but Spike held her hand tight.

“What’s the rush, pet?” He bowed in a gentlemanly manor. “May I have this next dance?”

Buffy stood still, absolutely caught off guard by this change in him, and at the same time enthralled.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m asking a lady to dance. What do say, Slayer?”

“Well..” She let out a deep breath. “I guess a little more dancing couldn’t hurt. Then it’s patrol time. Can’t let them think they’re right.”

Spike stepped forward, and pulled Buffy to him as a slow song started.

“What do you mean?”

She shuddered at the thought of her argument with Giles and her friends. The hurt was still raw, like ripping off a band aid and unleashing a pain she never wanted to feel again.

“Giles and his you’re irresponsible lecture from earlier.”

Spike raised his eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“You know the typical Scoobie intervention to let me know they don’t approve of my behavior. Apparently my getting drunk with you was way out of line, and now I’m an irresponsible Slayer.” Her throat burned as she tried swallowing, the words hurting to say as much as it did to hear them.

How could they think this of her? Was she really that bad? She felt so confused. Everything was so hard and it was too much.

“Bollocks. Did you tell them how we figured out who was behind the attacks?”

The reminder of their progress last night got her thinking. “No, they didn’t give me a chance. So after the venom they spewed at me, I wasn’t really willing to fill them in, ya know?”

Spike turned his head away from her clenching his jaw. He took an unneeded breathe and looked back at her.

“Fuck it,” he said, surprise lining her features. “Fuck them and their white horses they rode in on. They haven’t got a clue, luv.” He lifted his hand to her cheek, looking her directly in the eyes. “They haven’t an inkling of what you’ve been through. No idea even before…” He paused. “The choices you have to make… There is no way they could understand… And so what if they can’t. You’re strong, Buffy. More so than you even you realize.”

“I don’t feel strong.” Her voice was soft, eyes downcast.

Spike lifted her chin, his gaze full of emotion. “You are, Buffy. I believe in you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, heat flooding her cheeks as his statement sank in. It was the nicest thing he had ever said to her, and she had no idea how to take it.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice low and rough. “I know you don’t see it right now, but you can do this. You’re not alone. You have the Bit, and well… you have me. I know I’m not your ideal choice, but I’m here, and I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Buffy stared at Spike. She wanted to believe him and know she really had him, that she could count on him but in the back of her mind she still wondered if she could trust him. She just couldn’t be sure.

Was it all an act? Had he really changed as much as it seemed he had? She was just so confused and didn’t know what to think about anything anymore. The shades of gray were just too much for her to process right now.

“But I don’t trust you.” Her voice was so low that if Spike didn’t have supernatural hearing he would have missed it.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she immediately regretted them after seeing the pain in his eyes. His jaw clenched as he looked away from her, releasing his grip on her hips and took a step back.

Buffy reached for him, but he stepped further away. He looked at her. “Why do I even bother,” he said dejectedly.

“Spike,” she reached for him again but he stepped further away from her and shook his head.

“You’re wrong, Buffy.”

Then he was gone.

She felt the immediate loss of his presence, her body shaking as tears formed in her eyes and streamed down her face. Not caring how she appeared, she walked through the crowd to the closest exit and left her moment of freedom for the cool night.

Slowly she trudged down the empty alleyway, the smell of garbage permeating in the air as she unconsciously headed toward the closest cemetery. Guilt held her in its grip, deliberately repeating the whispered words as she saw the hurt on Spike’s face.

What was wrong with her? Why did she have to be such a bitch when all he was trying to do was help her? She should have just kept her big mouth shut and accepted his comfort for what it was. After all that’s what she wanted, right? Someone to tell her that everything would be okay, and be there for her and make it all go away.

But she should know better. Her life just didn’t work that way. She always known that at the end of the day she was alone, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. And god didn’t it hurt so badly. Her pain seemed as much physical as mental, her chest aching with a want that no words of comfort or support seemed to resonate. If only she could make it go away.

Rubbing her tear stained cheeks she took a few deep breaths and managed to get a grip on herself, pulling out a stake hidden in the back of her leather pants. She entered the deserted cemetery. The only sounds she heard were the crunch of her own footsteps as she honed her senses, waiting for that familiar twinge of demonic energy while she looked for fresh graves or the occasional hiding place perfect for a demon to hide.

It didn’t take too long before she encountered several fledglings that gave her a good workout. But it didn’t last and she quickly dusted them without her normal quips or playful banter. At one time the fight had taken the edge off and released her bent up frustration with her calling and life in general. But now it felt like a burden. Especially since her mindset was fighting against the residual feeling of completion she had in heaven. God, if she could just get that back.

Each step felt heavier as she continued her patrol sweeping the rest of the cemetery. Finally she moved on to another a few miles away even though nothing big seemed to be going on. It looked like most of the baddies were tucked away for the night, giving her too much time alone with her thoughts.

After roaming the rows of graves, she spotted a vampire in bellbottom jeans, peasant blouse and braided blond hair singing a Bob Dylan song. Buffy rolled her eyes and wondered why some vampires remained stuck in the decade they were turned. ‘At least, she wasn’t stuck in the 80s with big poofy bangs,’ Buffy thought as she quietly dropped back behind a large oak tree and waited to make herself known. But in the end, her discretion wasn’t needed. The vampire dusted without much of a fight and she continued on toward the north end of the cemetery where it housed elaborately designed mausoleums that were the perfect hiding spot for the undead.

One by one she opened each crypt door, having no problem getting them open after kicking them in so many times throughout the years. She found nothing but cobwebs, dust and sarcophaguses. Everything seemed so quiet she decided to skip Restfield, or at least that was what she told herself, making this next crypt the end of the line for tonight.

The large metal door squeaked open, the moonlight shining into the dark cavern as she took a step forward when something slammed into the back of her head. Buffy fell hard on her right arm, instinctively rolling away from the door and stood to face her attacker. Her vision was still spinning as a gray tentacle whipped out and reached for her neck. She jumped back and took a defensive stance while her shoulder throbbed with each movement. Ignoring her body, she circled the large unfamiliar demon as it stalked toward her, its tentacles protruded from it chin twitching, extending closer to her. If only she had a sword instead of the stake, those tentacles would be gone before it took another step.

Instead she jumped onto the sarcophagus in the middle of the room, barely missing the whip like tentacles as she tried to think of a way to get close enough to the demon and get a few good hits in. After countering another attack to her neck, she used her momentum to jump over the demon and faced its back landing several blows to the back of its head. But the hits seemed to do nothing, the demon turning much faster than she expected and swept her feet out from under her.

She landed hard, but didn’t let the temporary shock or pain coming from shoulder keep her down. Immediately she moved to a defensive position but the demon had other plans. Its tentacles elongated and snapped out in four different directions at once, leaving Buffy no choice except to retreat. But she wasn’t fast enough. One of the tentacles wrapped around her wrist, its grip tight enough to cut her circulation off if it tightened any further. With her tied to the demon, its other tentacles maneuvered around her until it held both wrists and ankles, and splayed her out like Da Vinci’s humanist blueprint.

Desperate to find any give in the demon’s grip, she pulled and yanked but there wasn’t any leverage to put her full strength forward. She braced herself as the demon walked toward her snarling, saliva running down its mouth. In her mind she could hear the faint sounds of laughter, but bowed herself to defeat.

Deep down, she was glad. Certainly this might not be the way she wanted to go out, but still it was a means to an end and she could finally get back to that place of peace that she longed for. After this there would be no more pain or struggle. No more pretending and hiding. She could finally be truly free from it all, and she could no longer deny herself what she so desperately wanted.

The demon stood in front of her face, its smaller tentacles stretching as it latched onto her mouth forcing it wide. Her eyes shut. Her body submitted to the demons’ will waiting for it to be over.

Deep inside her a searing heat formed and moved up her chest and into her throat, flowing out of her mouth. Then there was nothing. The heat immediately evaporated, the demon’s tentacles twitching before they loosened and she fell to the ground. Her eyes fluttered open to the sight of Spike standing before her with the demon’s decapitated head in his hands.

Buffy huddled into herself on the cold concrete floor as she stared in shock at Spike as he threw the demon’s head across the room. It exploded like a watermelon.

“What the fuck was that, Slayer?”

Buffy stared at the mangled mess on the wall, oblivious to any sounds or movement around her. Her mind was running on overdrive as she tried to process everything. It all happened too fast. One minute she was on a quiet patrol, the next she was in over her head ready to give it all up.

Her body shook everything too much to handle. She couldn’t do this. Not right now, especially with him staring at her. She couldn’t face him.

Spike growled at her. “Answer me.”

“Leave me alone, Spike.” Buffy’s voice was barely a whisper as tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away.

Spike let out an unneeded breath and walked slowly toward her. He crouched down in front of her. “No, I can’t leave you be. Had I left you alone, you’d be dead right now.” His voice was low, full of emotion. He turned his head and looked away from her. “Buffy, you almost destroyed your soul.”

His bold statement caught her off guard, as an immediate denial formed in her head.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Spike turned his attention back to her. “Oh, I don’t know. That was an Ender demon, luv. They consume souls. Thought you could just punch your ticket and make it back to heaven? You thought wrong. You wouldn’t exist on any plane after the Ender was done with you.”

Her breath caught as a deep seated fear crept forward as she wiped away the last of her tears.

He had to be lying about the Ender, if that was what it was even called. He was just making stuff up to scare her. That had to be it. He wanted her to feel guilty about finding her in that hopeless state. But it really had been hopeless. The demon had her pinned; all of her attempts in vain. She only accepted the inevitable, conceded herself for what was to come next. That was all that was, right?

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Buffy looked at him and saw for a brief second furry, before changing to a look she had never seen before. Sadness.

It was too much. She looked away.

“Don’t try and play me. I saw it.” He grabbed her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. “You forget I know that look. You wanted it as much as the demon did.”

Buffy pushed way, a flare of anger bursting inside. Deep down she knew his words rung true. She did have a death wish. And in that moment, she wanted it more than anything else she could ever remember wanting. But she knew it was even worse than that. She hated herself. Everything she was. For some reason, everything felt wrong, like she didn’t belong to anything anymore.

“Screw you! Who do you think you are to judge me?” Buffy glared. “William the Bloody, ring any bells?”

“Who am I? I guess I’m nothing but a demon to you. No need to consider I’ve been there for you when you’ve needed me this last year. I would have gone to Hell for you.” He turned, staring at her with a touch of something she wasn’t willing to see. “You were a warrior. Even when we first fought, I knew it. The one thing I’d been looking for my entire existence. The one, my equal. What happened, Buffy? Where did that girl go?”

Buffy gazed at him, shocked by his revelation, and even more scared. What he just admitted and the shame that she felt. She felt lower than low. She wasn’t even worthy of the title of Slayer anymore. She was just a shadow of what she once was.

“I’m not going to be your whipping boy anymore, Buffy. But I’m also not going to let you destroy yourself. I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”