[Reviews - 26]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2039 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 7

The rain of the day made a muddy trek to the cemetery. Buffy felt Spike’s aggression and the thirst for violence. His pent up energy plus the pressures of being at the Watcher’s Headquarters was weighing heavily on the vampire. She trudged through two cemeteries, following his destructive path. She found the remains of four fledglings rising and their subsequent demise. Buffy trudged through another puddle, soaking her jeans and boots with brown goop. Her boots, bought in a specialty shop in Hawaii that cost and arm and a leg were practically ruined now. Sneering, Buffy shook off the moisture and headed towards Spike. He sat on a grave marker, looking at a new grave. He must think there is a fledgling trying to rise. She approached, but left a lot of space between them. She watched him turn to his demon visage right as the fledgling started to move the upper earth. Mud and sod moved and bucked up as the new vampire started to rise. Impatient as ever, Spike hopped off of the grave marker and grabbed the hair of the fledgling, dragging its body out of the mud. Without preamble, Spike dusted the fledgling easily clearly not relieving any of his tension. His eyes riveted towards Buffy’s space. ‘Go home, Buffy, before you catch your death of a cold.’ He turned around and walked away, intent on finding a proper fight, even if he had to start it himself.

Buffy followed behind, refusing to go home until she knew he was fine. His duster floated behind him as he stalked on to the next fledgling. “What is wrong with you?” Buffy was so frustrated she couldn’t even use the bond; she had to talk out loud. His demeanor and words screamed that something was wrong, that he was hurting, but she couldn’t figure out why. She realized that it was more than accusing him of being the Doctor. And she knew he wasn’t the Doctor. The demons that she destroyed in his lower living area were not the same species of demon as the Sulvolte. Insect-like legs and bodies scurrying around his lower crypt did not resemble the Sulvolte Demon she killed with Riley. She should have listened to Spike in the first place.

Spike stopped and looked up into the stars. She saw warm puff of air coming from his mouth. The unnecessary breathing proved that he was frustrated and angry. Nothing she didn’t already know. His eyes twitched, a nervous habit he developed over the years. ‘Spike?’ He kept walking. Buffy launched into a light jog to catch up to him. ‘Spike, stop!’ He turned around and glared at her. They hurt in his eyes bored into her soul, ‘I’m sorry, honey. You aren’t the Doctor. I’m sorry for thinking that you were. I know you aren’t, you never were. I’m sorry.’

Spike could see she was sincere in her words. His anger and hurt melted away. He couldn’t really blame her for thinking the worst. His intentions, although only to benefit her, were nefarious at best. He was holding the eggs for money and they were demons, but they weren’t Suvolte. Spike knew of the Doctor, he knew where to find the Doctor that night, but his lust for Buffy outweighed his better judgment. If he only helped her that night instead of shagging her brains out, she would never have broken up with him. Kicking the muddy ground Spike accidentally pelted Buffy’s pants with more brown water and mud. He heard her gasp before he realized what he had done. She looked at him, her mouth set in a firm line and hands on her hips. Spike had sense enough to look sheepish. ‘Sorry, love.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve apologized and now I am going back to the house. You can stay out here for all I care.’ He watched Buffy turn around and walk away from him. Sighing, he followed closely behind her. ‘Spike, stop following me. It’s obvious you are mad at me and won’t take my apology.’

Spike quickened his stride, easily catching up to her. ‘Love, I’m sorry. I… just… something just isn’t right around here. You know?’ Buffy stopped and looked at him. They were now out of the cemetery, near the main road. ‘It’s like… I don’t know.’ Spike looked down the road. ‘I was not the Doctor.’

‘I know.’ Buffy stepped closer, wanting to hold him. His blue eyes were still filled with unshed tears and hurt. She wanted to wipe away all the pain she had caused him. All the emotional battery and physical abuse he took to be with her. She wanted to make it better for him.

‘But, to be honest, love. I knew who was.’ Buffy’s eyes widened and she gasped. He was hiding that fact. She narrowed her eyes, trying to stay calm. ‘I didn’t know what he was up to, I swear. I thought we had time to… find him, later. I’m sorry.’ Spike looked down at the ground. He shuffled his feet as he waited for Buffy to digest the information and give him his walking papers. Spike’s conscious weighed heavily on his soul. If he had helped her, if he had told her, if he did a lot of thing differently, they wouldn’t have missed the past six years. Life was preciously short, Spike knew, and a Slayer’s life was even shorter. If he was honest way back then, he would have had six more years with her than without her.

Buffy felt his guilt. The pain of mistakes in the past weighed heavily between them. Both wanted to change the past, but knew they couldn’t. ‘Is that why you got mad at me? Because you were feeling guilty?’ Buffy touched Spike’s upper arm. Spike flinched a little from the sudden contact, but didn’t push her away.

He looked up sharply; she wasn’t going to reject him. ‘A bit.’ Spike stepped forward, letting his hands find her waist. ‘I just… it wasn’t me. You know. If it was, I wouldn’t mind fessing up.’ Buffy hands moved up Spike’s leather clad arms to rest on his shoulders.

‘I know.’ Buffy let a small smile touch her lips. She rested her cheek against his chest, enjoying his scent and safe embrace. The moonlight shone down on the couple, enveloping them in its mysterious glow.

‘If I took you over to Willy’s when you first came to me, it would have been avoided. Or if I told you I was babysitting those eggs, but I didn’t.’

‘Wait… Willy was the Doctor?’ Buffy stepped away with an amazed look on her face.

‘Technically there isn’t one Doctor, per say. The Doctor is made up of five or so bootleggers around the world. But, in that instance, yes, Willy was trafficking the eggs.’

‘Well that little weasel!’ Buffy let a full smile touch her lips. ‘Forgive me?’

‘As you wish, my love.’ Spike brought Buffy closer to him, crushing their lips together. His tongue dueled with hers, letting them dance and retreat around their mouths. Buffy’s body pressed tightly against Spikes, letting them share in every possible molecule between them. Both were preoccupied to notice a blue van pull up only ten feet away. They didn’t notice the black clad, heavily armed troopers exit said van. Spike felt a sharp pinch at the back of his neck before his sight went black. He felt Buffy slipped out of his arms as the ground rushed up towards him. Buffy felt Spike’s body go limp as he fell to the muddy ground, the look of shock and pain still on his face. She had enough time to look around and see three masked people surround her. Crouching into a fighting stance, she never saw the taser gun. With a yelp at the sting of the gun in her ribs, she slowly slumped to the ground, unable to control her muscles. She saw the black boots of Spike, covered in mud from the cemetery. Trying to reach out to him, she felt another sting of another shock before the world went black.

~*~*~
Two things were apparent to Buffy as she regained consciousness. She was tightly tied to a wooden chair and that she was blindfolded. Gasping for air, she tasted the air: musty and cold. She tried shifting around, only to find herself immobilized. Her muscles did not cooperate with her, refusing to move. Ordering her body to move once again, Buffy growled in frustration.

“Ah, she’s awake.” A harsh whisper hit her ears. Not able to tell the gender of the speaker, Buffy tried to speak, only to have her mouth and tongue not cooperate. Another growl, the only indication that she was in fact conscious was emitted. “Now, now. Can’t have the Slayer calling in the Calvary.” Buffy’s muscles tensed up once more as the taser was used. She slumped forward in the chair, heedless of the ropes cutting into her circulation.





You must login (register) to review.