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Chapter 22

Spike paced angrily around his crypt. Angry at himself for letting slip about Darla, angry at Darla for being alive, angry at Wolfram & Hart for bringing her back, angry at Buffy for running off, and angry at Angel for being Angel.

He took another drink straight from the bottle, then for no particular reason, he threw it across the room. It shattered as it hit the stone wall.

"FUCK!" he yelled. 'Brilliant, bloody brilliant, Spike. Now you have nothing to drink,' he thought.

His fury mounting, he grabbed the lid of the sarcophagus and using all his strength, flipped it over against the wall. He'd used so much force that a corner broke off when it hit the tomb wall. But it wasn't enough. Spike spun around in his crypt like a tornado. Turning over everything - throwing things. It was only when he picked up his TV to throw it that he realized he was destroying his own home.

Carefully, he set the TV back down, grabbed his duster, and went out the door. The sun had just gone down, and he intended to get completely pissed and start a fight or two.

He went straight to Willie's. It took only a couple shots before he could find a flimsy excuse for starting a fight. Unfortunately, there just wasn't anyone worthy of his fists there tonight. Only a few punches and his opponent was down, and Spike was completely unharmed.

Willie begged him to leave. Spike grumbled something about it not being the sort of action he was looking for anyway, and left.

'Right now,' he thought, 'Buffy's probably in L.A. all curled up with Angel.' The thought caused him to punch a brick wall. The pain felt good, but since Angel wasn't there to hit, it was ultimately unsatisfying.

He could see Buffy sitting on Angel's lap making puppy eyes at him as they began kissing. Well, he'd show her.

His feet took him to 'The Mermaid's Grasp'. He couldn't remember actually deciding to go there, but once he was, he decided he might as well go in.

He paid the bouncer the entrance fee. This was not the sort of place where one messed around. They were deadly serious about business here.

Once he got inside, he headed straight for the bar.

"Whiskey or O Neg?" the bartender asked him. Spike had been a regular since getting his chip. Even though he hadn't been in since his night with Buffy, they still remembered him.

"Whiskey," he ordered.

He downed the drink in one gulp. Then he looked around. Lou was there, by the bar, just like always.

"Hey Lou, don't suppose Sophia is available for a private performance?"

Lou looked almost startled for a minute, but then he smiled. Spike had never done anything other than sit at the foot of the stage, and on occasion paid for a lap dance.

"That can be arranged."

Sophia was quickly brought over, and after an exchange of money, she led Spike up to the private rooms on the upper level.

Sophia, Spike thought, must have been the most inappropriately named vampire on the planet. She made Harmony look like Einstein. But at least, he hoped, she was a professional, and wouldn't yap the way Harmony always had. Besides, the important thing was that she was tall and dark, completely the opposite of Buffy.

"So what can I do for you tonight Spike?" she cooed.

"Blow me."

She smiled, and let her face relax. Since it was a demon bar she normally wore her vampiric face, the patrons finding it more attractive. But for this she retracted her fangs. She knelt down in front of him and unzipped his jeans and her hands reached in to pull out his cock.

The moment her cold hands touched him his stomach turned. She began to stroke him as she kissed him up and down his length, trying to urge him to life. But she was a cold dead thing. Spike knew suddenly that nothing she could do would make him hard.

For the first time in his entire vampiric existence, Spike felt dead. He felt cold and hollow. He also felt stupid. Stupid for thinking that Buffy would ever have him. Would ever touch him again. Would ever want him. He was a corpse, and she was alive. Completely and utterly. It was why he longed for her, why he burned for her.

Except at that moment he didn't. At that moment he was a shameful dirty thing.

"Get off!" he cried, pushing Sophia to the floor.

"Wow, guess those soldiers didn't just make you fangless, huh?" she retaliated cruelly.

"What?"

"Come on. Everyone knows. Big bad Spike got neutered by the government. Didn't know it went so deep, though. Can't kill, can you? Can't get it up either?"

Without thinking, Spike leapt toward her, grabbing a stake he always carried out of his jacket. Her eyes went wide as the stake penetrated her heart.

"Stupid bint. I can still kill vampires," he snarled as she exploded into dust. "Fuck," he said quietly the next minute.

She may have been stupid, and less than professional teasing him, but he'd just made a monumental mistake. He'd just killed one of 'The Mermaid's Grasp's girls. The chances were, he wasn't going to survive. You could do just about anything you liked to the girls here, except chop off anything that wouldn't grow back - or kill them.

He tried to think of what to do, of how to get out without ending up a pile of dust himself. Okay, so probably he could get out safely, even if he had to fight his way out. But there would be no staying in Sunnydale. Lou wouldn't rest until Spike had been made an example of.

There were no windows he could leave through. There was no way out but through the front. If he went down right away, they'd be suspicious though. He should wait. He checked the time.

But how long? What was the appropriate time? He'd never been with a whore, and he'd never paid attention to the other patrons here who had. He was a vampire which meant that he had incredible stamina, but did vampires just use a whore once, or did they do it over and over? He had no idea what was normal. And how long should he figure for each time?

Again, his own experience gave him no guide. Every other woman he'd been with - even Harmony - he'd taken the time to please. So how long would sex take if he was selfish, and just trying to get off? Would it be like masturbating? He had no idea, but that seemed to make sense.

He checked the clock on the wall again, and to his surprise realized that fifteen minutes had passed while he was worrying. How long had he been with Sophia before he'd killed her? Before he'd checked the time? Five minutes at least. Maybe more.

Before he left the room he did one more thing. He opened the drawer in the bedside table. Much as he hoped the room was fully equipped with anything the occupants might need. Lubricant, handcuffs, feathers, candles, knives.

He hid one knife in his boot, and another up his sleeve, where he could get to them easily. Then Spike took a deep unneeded breath and readied himself to look normal, or at least look like he'd just been fucked. Which wasn't entirely untrue, except it turned out he'd fucked himself this time.

As calmly as he could, he made his way back down into the main room, lighting a cigarette as he went. Trying to be casual, he headed to the bar to order a drink. As he walked over, he realized that Lou wasn't there. Lou was always there.

'Bollocks! They know!' he thought. Then he calmed down. No one knew anything.

He ordered his drink and something tugged at his senses. Just the tinniest trace of vanilla in the air. Almost as if Buffy had been there. 'Rubbish,' he thought. 'She'd never come in a place like this. Just someone else wearing vanilla. Probably not really vanilla, probably just wishful thinking.'

But he couldn't remember any of the girls here ever wearing a scent even remotely like that. As he downed his drink an awful thought came to him. What if Buffy had been here? What if she was the reason Lou wasn't anywhere to be seen?

Putting his glass down, he said goodnight to the bartender, and followed the scent into the dark room. Once his back was turned to the bartender, he vamped so as to heighten his senses. He hoped no one - other than the bartender - would know that he rarely wore his vampire face. As soon as he did so, he became sure that the scent was Buffy's.

It took everything in him not to run after this slight trace of her. Instead, he continued to walk calmly toward a door marked 'Staff Only'. Hoping no one was looking, he went through the door. Luckily, in a strip club no one was likely to look at him - they'd be too busy eyeing the girls.

The door lead to an empty hallway. He could hear the sounds of girls getting ready, he also heard Lou's voice, "Too bad we can't use eBay, auction her worldwide. Do you have any idea how much some demons would pay to have a Slayer to do with as they please?"

Spike ran headlong down the hall and into the room where he could hear Lou, and smell Buffy. He burst into the room. The first thing he saw was Buffy, standing totally still with a blank expression on her face, and Lou who had just slapped her on the ass.

Spike was filled with so much rage, such murderous thoughts toward Lou, that the chip in his head fired before he could even decide on how to hurt the bar owner. Spike fell to the floor, clutching his head in agony.

Lou didn't even flinch. "You shouldn't have come in here, Spike. Didn't you see the sign? Kill him."

"Yes, Master," said Buffy without any emotion as she turned on Spike.





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