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Chapter 7


Buffy decided to forego patrolling that night, opting to go home and get
some rest. She walked into her house with tears still streaming down her
face after hearing Ford’s news of his impending death. He had seemed so
calm about it. Buffy knew that feeling. The idea that you had to be
strong because there was no option to be anything else but strong. She
couldn’t pity him. He would hate that.

It made her reflect on her own life as Buffy walked upstairs to her
bedroom. She changed out of her Bronzing clothes and pulled on some jeans
and a white tank top. It was still early- her mom wasn’t even home from
spending the evening out with her friends, but Buffy didn’t feel like doing
anything.

She stared into her mirror, looking at the girl she once was and the woman
she had become. They seemed to be combined within her. Her face was still
sixteen, but her eyes showed everything. All of the horrors that the world
knew nothing about that she was supposed to protect it from. The knowledge
of what it felt like to have your life pulled from your body, only to be
revived and end up stronger in the long run.

“Sixteen years old, and you’re already a jaded and cynical person,” she
murmured to herself, looking at her reflection as she ran her hands through
her hair. “Unable to trust, unable to be optimistic about anything in this
world. You could be out there patrolling right now and kill ten vampires,
only to have twenty rise in their place.”

Buffy let her face drop into her hands as the annoying little voice in her
head reminded her that she should be out there patrolling for that very
reason.

With a sigh, Buffy turned away from the mirror and nearly jumped out of her
skin when she saw Spike sitting at her window. She momentarily looked back
and forth from him to the mirror before remembering that a vampire casts no
reflection.

Buffy slowly walked toward the window, flipping the lock and sliding it open
as he watched her with interest.

“Gonna come out and play, Slayer?” he asked with a smirk as Buffy crossed
her arms defiantly over her chest.

“With you?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Not likely. What do
you want?” Buffy asked, keeping a careful eye on him.

“Now, Slayer, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t happy to see
me,” Spike said with a grin. His tone suddenly turned very serious as he
looked at her. “Why not invite me in, pet?” he asked in a deadly tone.

Buffy actually laughed at the request. “You have got to be kidding me,” she
said, trying to control her giggles as Spike watched her through narrowed
eyes. “You actually expect me to give you an all-access pass to my house?
I don’t think so.”

“Then come outside,” he replied in a challenging tone.

“No,” Buffy said forcefully.

Spike stared at her long and hard for a moment before a slow smile crept
onto his face. “Alright, if that’s the way you want it.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow as he seemed to back down so readily.

“Maybe,” he continued in a slow drawl. “I’ll just wait for your mum to get
home.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, her breath catching at what he was saying. “No,”
she said, shaking her head. “I’ll know when she gets here, and I’ll be
able to protect her.”

Spike chuckled as he looked at her defiant face. “Well, pet, you won’t know
where I’ll be.”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, a suspicious note creeping its
way into her voice.

“You won’t know if I’m here waiting on your mum or if I’ve gone off to kill
your newfound best friend.”

Buffy’s heart caught in her throat as he watched her reaction. “Leave him
alone,” she said with fire in her eyes.

“Oooh, touched a nerve, did I? Well, I’ll be off then,” he said, turning
away to jump off the roof.

“Wait,” Buffy said softly, seconds before he jumped.

Spike turned halfway around, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ll come out there,” Buffy murmured, grabbing a long sweater and pulling
it around her before hesitantly stepping outside.

She refused to react when she found herself thrown against the side of the
house, expecting nothing else from the temperamental demon.

Spike’s human mask was still in place as he held her firmly by the arms,
looking into her defiant face. “What’s the matter, luv? Don’t feel like
playing tonight?” he asked with a smirk.

Buffy didn’t answer as they each leveled the other with a strong gaze.

“You seem overly confident tonight,” she remarked after a minute,
suppressing a smile at the confusion that clouded his eyes.

“And why shouldn’t I be?” he asked, never backing away from her.

“Because I’m the Slayer,” Buffy replied in a soft but powerful voice. “And
you seem to keep forgetting that.”

Buffy knew her words would be misinterpreted as a precursor to a fight, so
she had to smile slightly when she felt Spike’s hands tighten on her since
she had no intention of throwing the first punch.

Spike felt himself involuntarily breathe as his head angled opposite hers.
Buffy couldn’t figure out if he was studying her or preparing to kiss her.
She hated herself for hoping it was the latter of the two.

“Are you scared of me, luv?” he asked quietly, his eyes burning into hers.

“Should I be?” she challenged, never breaking eye contact.

Spike’s jaw tightened as he watched her. “I could kill you right now,” he
whispered menacingly.

“Then why don’t you?” Buffy no longer had her death wish, but she seemed to
subconsciously know that Spike wouldn’t actually try to kill her…tonight,
anyway.

“You still wanting to die, pet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What answer do you want to hear?”

Spike was getting sick of her answering a question with a question. His
fingers itched to wrap around her neck and squeeze the life out of her, but
something was holding him back. And that made him more frustrated than he
had ever been in his life.

He had an underlying respect for this tiny scrap of a girl. She had
survived around him longer than the other two Slayers combined. Although,
they hadn’t really had a fight to the death, either.

Buffy sighed. She really wasn’t in the right mindset to fight right now,
but if he was wanting one, she would give as good as she got. “I came out
here…now will you leave my friends and family alone?”

Spike tilted his head thoughtfully. She could have easily had a stake
hidden on her and tried to dust him from inside the house. She had shown
guts by coming outside, facing a Master vampire, while she was unarmed.
“You’re willing to take the word of a vampire?” he asked with a smirk.

Her expression stayed serious as she watched him. “No,” she said softly.
“I’m willing to take your word.”

Spike’s eyes widened at the implications of the simple statement. He stayed
quiet for a moment, dropping his gaze as he desperately wished for a
cigarette. “Tonight,” he murmured, still looking at the roof. “Only for
tonight.”

Spike raised his eyes to Buffy, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn’t
seem surprised, no matter which answer she was expecting. “Tonight is
something,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “What do you want from
me, Spike?”

The question seemed to take him off-guard as his eyes roamed her face
before sliding down her body. He could see the soft curves where her
sweater parted, revealing the thin fabric of her tank top to his gaze.

Spike’s eyes strayed lower until his hands loosened their grip. He was
prepared for the Slayer to rush him and try and knock him off the roof, but
she merely stayed where she was.

His hands, of their own volition, traveled down her arms and came to rest on
her waist. Buffy seemed to tense slightly but held his gaze as they
slipped under the fabric to touch her warm skin. Buffy flinched slightly
but stayed where she was, her curiosity obviously getting the best of her as
his fingertips ghosted over her sensitive flesh.

Spike noticed her flinch when he touched an area that didn’t feel like the
rest of her skin. His left hand grazed lightly over her right hip, his brow
furrowing at the different texture. Buffy pulled away slightly, more from
embarrassment than anything else.

“As I thought,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Some nasty thing got a
taste of you.”

“Something like that,” Buffy murmured, focusing her eyes on something over
his shoulder as Spike studied her.

“What happened?” he asked, hating himself for caring.

Buffy raised her shirt slightly, showing him the thin scar that left a
white line of scar tissue on the golden skin of her stomach. Spike reached
out, letting his fingers run over what he could see of the scar as he raised
an eyebrow. “You should have had that stitched up, luv.”

“I don’t like hospitals,” Buffy replied before meeting his eyes with hers.
“And why do you care?”

Spike didn’t have an answer for that. “How did it happen?”

“I met a vamp in Los Angeles at the end of the summer,” Buffy said quietly.
“She was rambling on about sunshine and a bunch of other things, and I just…I
wasn’t ready for it.”

Spike’s body went rigid as he listened to her story. “What did she look
like?”

“Pretty,” Buffy murmured. “Long, dark hair. She seemed older…probably
older than you.”

“And you dusted her,” he commented softly.

“Yeah,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. “It’s…what I had to do.”

Spike noticed that she didn’t say, ‘It’s what I do.’

“It was either her or me,” Buffy continued, looking up at him.

Spike backed away from the Slayer, avoiding her eyes as he came to the edge
of the roof. “Is that it?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow. “You just
wanted to stop by for a visit?”

Buffy noticed his distracted look before he turned around and jumped off the
roof, landing with a soft thump on the grass below. She watched his duster
swirling as he hurriedly made his way down the street.

Spike realized he was involuntarily breathing as he walked. He didn’t know
what was upsetting him more- the fact that Buffy had spoken so openly about
killing Drusilla, even though she didn’t know that’s why Spike came to
Sunnydale, or the fact that Dru had injured Buffy, to the point of scarring
the young girl, and that had conjured up more feelings for the Slayer than
the death of the woman he’d loved for a century.





A/N Please, please, please review :-)





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