[Reviews - 29]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2728 times

- Text Size +




A/N: For the sake of this story, Sunnydale is an hour away from Los Angeles

A/N: Some of the dialogue used is from the "Seeing Red" episode.

Tuesday

Spike walked into a gas station convenience store, asking the clerk for the key to the restroom. The older white-haired gentlemen looked at him strangely. Spike guessed it had something to do with him wearing a leather coat in such hot weather. He'd worn the coat to hide his bloodstained clothes. The clerk had given him the key, eyeing all the way out the door. Spike washed the remnants of Clem's blood off his hands and face. He discarded his blooded clothes, shoving them deep into the trashcan. He stuffed his black leather trench back into his duffel bag, lit a fag and walked out the door. The clerk continued to eye him nervously after Spike returned the key. Using his smile and charm, he'd put the old man at ease.

He ditched the Porsche at the gas station and hitched hiked to Buffy's place. He never had a problem getting rides often being told by the people who picked him out he had a safe face. Whatever that meant he thought. He checked the mailboxes outside Buffy's apartment complex. She lived on the first floor close to the entryway. Spike was exhausted and relieved he didn't have to search for it. Last night was still fresh in his mind. He could hear the gunshot that took his friend's life still ringing his ears. He tried to push the thoughts away, needing rest and a break from his tortured mind. There was no time to mourn his friend's death. Right now he had to focus on the objectives, get the money, get the girl and get the hell out of California.

Spike knocked on her door several times but no one answered. He pulled out his trusted tools and unlocked the front door. He toured her apartment looking through her things. It was a bad habit of his but that was the life of a thief, always looking for something to steal. He looked through her mail and her kitchen cabinets, finding a box of frosted flakes. He grabbed a bowl and some milk, eating the entire box. Spike thought it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Leaving the bowl and the milk container on the counter, Spike used her bathroom then made his way to Buffy's bedroom. He looked through her closet knocking several items of clothing to the floor and not bothering to pick them up. He searched her dresser drawers, finding the strip of pictures they'd taken in a photo booth while on the Vegas strip. Instead of placing them back inside her drawer, Spike placed the photos on her mirror. He walked over to the double bed, sniffing her sheets and pillow, thinking to himself. If there were a contest for knowing your lover's scent, he would win hands down. Buffy had a distinct scent he thought. She smelled like lust and innocence. Spike knew he was definitely in the right place. He collapsed on her bed with his clothes and shoes still on. He placed her pillow over his head and fell asleep.

Buffy stood at her front door fumbling in her purse for her house keys. She placed the key in the lock, and then realized the door was open. She tried to remember if she had locked before she left. She'd been in a hurry, trying to catch the first early morning bus to school. She opened the door, hoping to see what little possessions she had were still there. A faint scent of cigarette smoke filled her nostrils and immediately Buffy sensed something was wrong. She grabbed her baseball bat from underneath the couch, scanning her tiny apartment. She noticed several pieces of her mail were sprawled out on her table and the floor. She walked around, searching all the areas where someone could possibly hide. Buffy opened her coat closet prepared to strike but no one was there. She walked into her kitchen, noticing an empty box of frosted flakes, a bowl and an opened carton of milk left on the counter. She knew she didn't leave those items there because there was no time for breakfast. She walked down the very short hallway to her bathroom, noticing the toilet seat was up. Gripping the bat tighter, she held it up then snatched opened the shower curtain; relieved no one was there. Finally she stepped into her bedroom, stopping at the doorway. There was someone sleeping in her bed. Buffy was thinking a homeless person had broken into her apartment. She nudged the sleeping form with her bat. When the body shifted, she jumped back tightening her hands around it and fully prepared to use it. She wanted to wound the son of a bitch for breaking into her apartment before she called the police. Buffy raised the bat over her head. She stopped in mid strike when the sleeping form shifted again, emerging from under the covers. That was the moment she caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair staring her in the face.

"Oh no what the hell are you doing here?" Buffy shouted, waking Spike.

Spike's head shot up from the bed then fell back down. He opened his eyes to see Buffy staring daggers at him. He laughed, lifting his head.

"Hello, cutie you miss me."

Buffy had a feeling the wild time she spent in Las Vegas while on Spring Break was coming back to haunt her.

"Spike what, how...how did you know where I lived?"

He ignored the question.

"Aren't you glad to see me, pet?"

"No, I'm not and you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here? Are you mad at me for leaving you without saying goodbye? Did I hurt your feelings?"

"Never mind that, pet. I'm here on business...not planning to stay long. I'm going to Mexico and I want you to come with me."

"What? Are you crazy? I can't go to Mexico with you."

"Why not, pet? It will be like a vacation. A break from the world."

"I've had my vacation and might I add part of it was spent with you but that was it."

"It doesn't have to be." Spike said, walking over to Buffy on his knees while still on the bed. He tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"No Spike this is my life. I have responsibilities. You can't just burst into my life and say hey let's go to Mexico. I had fun with you in Vegas but that's over now."

"But I love you."

"What, you love me. You're crazy. We've spent four days together. I don't call that love. I call it a fling."

"You love me, I know it." Spike said, climbing off the bed, walking towards Buffy. He reached through her hair and grabbed the back of her neck.

Buffy was unable to respond. Spike's eyes held her captive.

"I felt it. I felt it when I first met you. I felt it when I was inside you."

Spike closed his eyes and brushed his lips against hers.

Buffy pulled her head to the side, avoiding his lips but still feeling the shivers he was creating run through her. Spike was on the top of her list of weaknesses. She decided to spend her Spring Break vacation with a week in Las Vegas. On her fourth day there, she met him in a casino. She gathered around him along with the crowds of people intrigued by his winning streak. She made her way up the front, standing beside him. When their eyes met, he rolled snake eyes and lost $10,000 and watched how he shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal. At that moment, she realized she was intrigued more by the fact that his loss didn't faze him rather then him winning.

Buffy walked away but Spike grabbed her by the arm and wouldn't let go. He introduced himself and talked a mile a minute truly mesmerizing her. She liked him immediately. He was so full of life and energy she was becoming drunk off it, spending her last fours days in Vegas with him. She liked his eyes, his accent and the way he looked at her. He showed her around Las Vegas never leaving her side. There time together was an experience she would never forget and would never write home about. Things did get pretty wild when she was with him. He helped her fulfill a fantasy of hers, convincing her to enter an amateur strip contest. She won second place and $500.00. Spike had taught her how to count cards at the black jack table. She wasn't twenty-one so she couldn't gamble but Spike fixed that. He took her to a photo booth where she'd taken a few photos of herself and some of them they took together. A friend of his used one of her photos and affixed to a fake ID. Buffy was a fast learner, cheating the casino out of $5,000. They blew their entire winnings on drinking, eating and more gambling. Buffy was having the time of her life with Spike. He wasn't the typical Vegas flashy type except for the wild platinum-blonde spiky hair. He was handsome, charming, self-assured, confident, street smart and a survivor but he was also arrogant, cocky, immature and reckless with a hint of danger. He was the perfect bad boy and when she was with him she felt like a bad girl.

Spike had the gift of gab, convincing one of the hotel managers to upgrade her room to a luxury suite where they'd spent hours in bed, fucking like rabbits. They had sex every surface imaginable. Spike was a very passionate sexual person and it consumed her. On her last night there, she had to sneak out of her hotel room in the middle of the night or she would have never left. She had to admit she did feel something for him but she didn't think it was love. She down played her feelings as adrenaline rushes from all the excitement and the hot sex.

"It wasn't love. I would have to trust you in order to love you."

Spike began circling her like a predator eyeing his prey.

"Trust is for old marrieds Buffy. Great love is wild, passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes until."

"Until there's nothing left. Love like that doesn't last." Buffy replied finishing Spike's speech.

"I know you feel like I do." Spike said, coming up behind her to, whispering more words into her ear.

"You'll see."

"You scare me Spike." Buffy replied, watching Spike walked out her bedroom but still feeling his presence taking hold of her.

"Don't be scared pet, it's only love. I'll be back soon." Spike said, walking out the front door.

"Don't come back," Buffy shouted.

Spike made a phone call to Clem's friend Xander. He needed a car and preferably a fast one. He checked the local paper for anything regarding what happened last night but he was more interesting in knowing if the state trooper survived. Spike didn't have to look far, the state trooper's picture was on the front page along with information about another body found at the scene. Clem's name was withheld and the article mentioned the assailant was probably headed for Los Angeles. Since he was in Sunnydale, Spike thought being there would buy him some time. He hitched hiked to Xander's place, arriving in front of white small modest one story house complete with a white picket fence. The house reminded Spike of the home he grew up in but hopefully without the horror inside. He knocked on the front door and was greeted by an attractive brunette.

"You must be Spike. Clem has told us so much about you. Hey isn't he suppose to be with you. Oh by the way I'm Anya. Come with me...Xander is in the back."

Anya talked fast. Spike didn't have time to think of an answer about Clem. He was already being led to the backyard. Anya was rushing him and Spike was beginning to feel uncomfortable. In the backyard was a man standing with his back facing the house. Spike noticed a huge can of lighter fluid, a shovel and box of shotgun shells beside the man. He approached with caution.

"You Xander?" Spike asked.

"Yeah that's me." The dark-haired man said, turning around holding a shoot gun. He aimed it at Spike.


"Christ mate. Spike shouted feeling like it was all about the end right there.

"What happened to Clem?"

"I see you know."

"Of course I know asshole I read the papers and it's on the news. Now I want to hear your version or I'll blow your fucking head off and bury you in my back yard after I set your ass on fire."

Spike backed away, holding his hands up in defense.

"It didn't go down like you might think"

"The papers and the news say the unknown suspect shot the unidentified man over a dispute and that trooper was a joy killing."

"So the trooper isn't dead." Spike said. He was relieved.

"Fuck that pig. He probably had it coming. I want to know what happened with Clem."

"Clem shot himself. It was an accident. We stole a Porsche and Clem found a gun in the glove compartment. I told him to get rid it but he wouldn't listen. You know Clem...thick skulled. The next thing I knew he was dead." Spike said, tearing up.

Xander lowered the shotgun.

"The dumb ass didn't check the safety...did he?"

"How you'd guess?"

"Come on man you know Clem. Thinking wasn't one of his strong suits but he was one hell of a friend."

Spike didn't respond, thinking Xander was right. Clem was one hell of friend. His heart was heavy and his throat burned while he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He missed his best friend but he had to be strong.

"Come on lets go inside. You hungry. I can get Anya to make us some sandwiches."

"Thanks mate but no thanks but I could use a phone and some wheels."

"I got you covered. You need to get out of town fast. The cops are going to be gunning for you. Cops are relentless when you kill their own. It would want take them long to connect you with Clem."

"I can't leave just yet, mate."

"Are you kidding? Why are staying?"

" I got some business to take care of then there's my girl."

"Yeah right the money. Clem told me you guys did some job, earning you some serious dough but a chick man you're asking for trouble."

"I know but there's something about her. Its in her eyes." Spike replied smiling while an image of Buffy's face appeared in his head.

"More like in your cock" Xander responded, slapping Spike on the back.

The two men laughed as they walked into the house. Spike made his phone call to Rupert Giles. His housekeeper informed Spike the wealthy businessman was out of town until Thursday and to call back.

Spike slammed the phone down, thinking Clem was right. Maybe Rupert Giles was trying to hustle them out of their share but leaving Sunnydale without the money and Buffy wasn't an option. He tried to remain calm while he followed Xander out the front door.

"Something wrong?" Xander asked.

"Nothing I can't handle. I need another favor. Do you have a gun you can give me?"

"Now you're talking. Come with me."

The two men walked over to a locked shed. Xander pulled out a trunk that housed several guns with the serial numbers filed off.

"Take your pick."

Spike picked up a glock semi-automatic.

"Nice choice. This baby has a comfortable grip and fits well in the waist. It's not too heavy and there are no bodies on it. This baby is clean as a whistle...one of my favorites. It's yours."

Spike was thinking maybe it was a good idea after all to have the gun just as insurance. He wasn't planning on using it, thinking Rupert Giles was still on the up and up.

"Thanks mate" Spike said, tucking the gun into his waist.

Xander pulled back a blue car cover to reveal a red convertible.

"Here you go. Now this baby will get to Mexico and you can have the wind blowing in hair on your way down there. The plates are good and I even got you some excellent fake registration to go along with it. I used one of your aliases to get my buddy to do the paperwork. Here's his number in case you need anything else. His name is Dalton. Tell him Xander sent you that way he knows everything is cool. Bye the way he doesn't work for free but he's the best guy when it comes to this stuff."

Spike placed the number into his pocket while he looked over the registration reading William Reynolds. He chuckled. It was excellent work.

"Say man why don't you stay the night. We can have a few drinks, eat and shot the shit...talk about Clem. I have an extra room you can stay in."

Spike really wanted to get back to Buffy but he figured she needed to calm down. He decided to take Clem up on his offer.

"Okay...why not...hope you got bourbon."

A/N: I know some of you may be wondering why this story is labeled NC-17 and no smut has happened, yet. I promise you it will soon. I hope you like the story so far. Please review.





You must login (register) to review.