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Author's Chapter Notes:
continues Spike's thoughts on the events of 'Crush'. It won't be long before it shifts to AU so please be patient
Dialogue borrowed from 'Crush'
//Spike's thoughts//

//I watched her for far too long in hindsight. The Whelp after a few minutes of limited responses had departed back for his safety net, and left me alone to my anguish. Shots of whiskey began to burn down my throat, almost forcing the muscles to feel alive with the sharp bite. When my vision finally began to blur, I left, dragging my docs all the way back to my crypt. The one thing I wanted was to go to sleep and forget my pathetic attempts at wooing, however I had forgotten one thing: Harmony.


The stupid bint had obviously waited up for me, swinging her long legs off the bed as I stalked in. Every thing she did seemed to irritate and rather than lay down on the bed, I threw myself into the couch. It was decent enough in momentarily halting my foul temper but not for long, when Harm took an unneeded breath and began to speak.


I may be a demon yet I can testify that there is nothing more awful then listening to that bird rave on about sodding Paris. Tonight she was dressed up, or should I say down into the barest silk, all her curves flowing out of the negligee. Her blonde hair, dull compared to the slayer’s, flowed free, abundant and smelling of sunflowers. It did nothing for me. Before this whole mess started with the Slayer I would have laughed my head off at the poor bloke who didn’t find Harm attractive. I mean, she’s not the smartest bint to ever become undead but she didn’t hurt the eyes. Now I can’t help cringing whenever she touches me.


“Oh Spikey!” Harm sang the words out in a childish voice as she jumped from the bed. “Do you like my outfit?”


She sashayed her way over to the chair, the skimpy outfit appearing ghastly to me. It was an off purple colour which seemed to scream the word ‘desperate’. Her simple smile only made the outfit appear extravagant and excessive. All I could picture was the Slayer and her grumpy scowl, blood red top shining in the dark club. Poor Harm paled by comparison. I grimaced at her, looking away rather than hurt the silly bint’s feelings. I may be evil but I could identify with the chit after Cecily and Dru ripped my heart out. She obviously didn’t take the hint, practically straddling me.


“Really not in the mood right now Harm.” I growled.


She only stuck her lip out, before flouncing back to bed with talk of role playing. For once, Harmony had come up with a very good idea. My eyes drifted to the blue cashmere sweater lying on the floor in the corner, before I met hers. She may be too tall but she still had similar hair, close enough features that I could make do. I leapt up from the chair, reaching for her with my intent clear. If I couldn’t have Buffy then a replacement would be enough for the moment. Suffice to say, Harm didn’t seem to care that I yearned for the Slayer either.
………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next time I awoke, it was to the sounds of clattering and footsteps above. Someone was in my crypt. Harmony lay beside me, passed out with her hands flung back in dramatic formation. It made me grin to see that I could still act partly like a demon, even if it was the Slayer I wanted. A smashing of my vase drew my attention back to the ceiling with the human clumsily stumbling about. It was either Xander or a very drunk Giles, neither of which I could be bothered getting out of bed for. Shifting I scented the air to check, before recognising the scent as Dawn. What was she doing here? I raced to put my jeans on, nearly tripping on the stake which Harm had dropped during our game. It had been carved by Buffy at some point, before I nicked it, getting an odd sense of pleasure from hindering her weapon making. That’s at least the reason I give myself. The true explanation was that I was love’s bitch and sad enough to grab what tokens I could. The fact that this stake had killed my kind mattered little.


Dawn jumped at least a foot when I reached upstairs. The bit had anxiety written all over, doe like eyes imploring searching mine. They reminded me too much of Buffy. I turned from her, grabbing a cigarette from my Marlboro pack before grimacing; the nibblet wanted to hang out at my crypt. Inwardly I could feel a part of me rejoicing at the fact that she wanted any part of me, Dawn being one of the few women who ever chose my company. Yet I was also slightly insulted. Since when had I become the patron saint of little lost girls intent on being rebellious? I drew back a breath, sucking on the cigarette till I could feel the smoke in the pit of my lungs.


“You can’t bloody well stay here” I said angrily. “I’ve got things to do.”


Dawn had the nerve to roll her eyes at me, though if put in her position I probably would have to. She merely tossed her long brown hair back and fixed me with a stare.


I glared back.


“Bad, evil things that are not for a child’s eyes.” This time the words dripped out of my mouth with something akin to the menace I once possessed. It was aggravating having all the Scooby’s treat me as harmless. Dawn, either insulted by my tone or being called a child, drew back. I instantly regretted my words when seeing her face. It had twisted into a frown with the beginnings of tears swimming in her eyes. I sighed. The teen was like a hormonal bomb with nothing I could say making an impression, only more proof for me that she’s the slayer’s sister.


“What brings you here?”


Dawn looked down at the ground before back at me, her hair acting as a curtain. Even without shifting I could sense her confusion and fear. My demon was drawn to it partly.


Her eyes trailed over the dirty floor and thick white candles for a long minute before she spoke. It was about being the key. I scheduled my face to remain like stone though inwardly I was relieved. I don’t know whether I could have stomached listening to Dawn describe some adolescent youth who would never be good enough for her.

All this mess with Glory had gotten to the bit, not surprisingly considering she was only 14. Even an adult would have been lost after knowing that every memory was false. I leaned on the sarcophagus behind me, its heavy stone providing some strength. What was it to be human? I was puzzled that Dawn had come to me in the first place to ask the question but then I realised why. Buffy and her friends would never understand her dilemma. None of them had ventured so far as to dare ask what they were… if their very essence had a benign purpose. Besides Rupert I was the only one with some semblance of evil who did not hide it. She certainly couldn’t ask her sister, what with all the bloody confusion surrounding the slayer’s calling and its nature. I breathed out a cloud of smoke with a sigh, relinquishing myself to the position of president of ‘The Forced to be Good Bloody White Hats’ club. I was the perfect creature to ask. I leaned more heavily on the stone considering an answer before finally replying.


“Originally I was human. I got over it. Doesn’t seem to me to matter much how you start out. I think its far more important how you finish.”


The bit trembled for a moment whilst I spoke. Maybe it hurt her to hear me recognise that her original purpose could be evil. But then, she had come to me and I am nothing if not brutally honest at the worst of times. I didn’t like the serious tone of the conversation and decided to venture away from it while I still could. Dawn would learn soon enough that humans can be just as bad, if not worse than demons. Even with their bloody souls.//





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