Set in an alternate Season Five where Glory is not an issue but Dawn knows she is the key and Joyce is still getting sick.
The Slayer was a right bitch.
At least that was what Spike tried to convince himself of after he walked away from her house. Didn't she get what Drusilla meant to him? Couldn't she see that he was willing to kill the woman who had been his love for over a century--been his life? Couldn’t' she see he knew what he was saying?
Obviously not since for all his effort all he'd gotten was a punch to the nose and shut out of her house.
Okay, so maybe letting Dru zap her and chaining her up hadn’t exactly helped his case, but what exactly did she expect of him? He was a vampire, dammit! He was allowed to not do things completely right....The intent was still there.
He had just wanted her to see that he loved her, maybe give it some thought. He'd only asked for a bloody crumb and she couldn't even give him that. Couldn't even give him the hope that someday...the bloody bitch!
What was it with him loving women that insisted on beating him down? Needed to go find himself someone who'd want him--who wouldn't try to change him or tell him he was bloody beneath them...
But he wasn't going to do that. He loved Buffy and going off with some other bird really wasn't going to do much by way of convincing her of that.
He'd just have to go back to his Crypt--clean the sodding place up--and try to come up with a plan.
"Don't you worry my sweet, I'll make the Slayer pay. Make her pay for what she's done to you."
Could he not escape her?
"Talking to anyone in particular there?" Spike questioned the mysterious woman, "Cause if it's a ghosty, well...like to know what's floatin' round."
"Not a ghost, vampire," She spit out the last word with such pain that Spike took a closer look at the dark haired woman kneeling on the grass. "The Slayer killed my sweet love, my Reuben."
"Uh, so now you're what? Going to go down to the Slayer's house and challenge her to a fight or something?" Buffy might have been a bitch but she was his bitch and he wasn't about to let some loon try to hurt her.
"Oh no," She cooed, suddenly very proud of herself, "I'm going to do much, much better than that. No, the Slayer can get away from that; many have tried and failed in the past. This, this she won't be able to run from. She won't escape it.:
"Escape what?" Sure curiosity killed the cat but he was already dead.
"Why so interested, vampire? Why is it you care so much for what happens to the girl?"
If nothing else Spike was capable of bullshitting his way through an answer. "She's been the pain in my ass, the bloody thorn in my bloody side," he recalled his earlier words, "For too many years now for me to to have some say in her final downfall."
"What is it you propose doing then? Something must be done, I've already invoked my gods and they know of my plan to harm the Slayer. If something is not done soon, by me, she'll simply die...all alone in her bed. What would be the fun in that?"
Spike had met a witch before, albeit in the 20s, who had told him the same thing. He didn't believe her of course and killed her before she had a chance to do her spell and, well, let's just say she'd been right. She had been going to punish Reeve who had been travelling with them at the time and Spike had assumed killing her would solve the problem. Reeve had simply vanished in a poof of dust hours later, no stakes or sunlight in sight.
"Well bitch--ah, sorry witch, I think I should be able to get my little punishment for the Slayer in first. I've had to put up with the bint for years hardly fair for you to just step in one night and get all the glory."
"What would you have happen to her, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers?"
Spike wasn't going to ask how she knew his name--he wasn't all that certain he wanted to know. "Make her feel what I feel." It took him a surprisingly little amount of time to come up with that.
"Very well, I think I can do that." She stood up for the first time since Spike had seen her and pulled a vial of powder out of her top. Spike watched as she spread it around her, careful to stay out of reach--he didn't trust witches too much. "Mike 'os gorn, the Slayer, wra ris kinned my nave..."
Spike listened to the witch recite the curse trying hard to decipher certain words or phrases--anything that would allow him to know exactly what she was saying. But it was useless.
She'd spoken in Yurab. The one damn language he was unable to make any sense of. Now he had no idea what the witch had said. "That was just for my thing right? You'll worry about yours later? Don't want the Slayer up and dying before she suffers," He said when she'd finished.
"Don't you worry, sweet William. All that has been done for now is what you wish. My hopes will have to wait a while longer."
Assured that all of the God invoking was settled and nothing would happen to Buffy other than what that spell entailed, Spike grabbed the witch round the neck before she could protest. "Thanks, then, luv," He said as he snapped her neck. The pain was blinding in that instant when the chip registered just what it was he was doing, but he knew it would soon pass.
"Thought everyone knew by now to mess with my girl." Spike stomped the rest of the short distance to his crypt, cursing himself for not knowing Yurab, or any of it's root languages.
Now normally, Spike would have just marched over to Buffy's house, barged in and told her about the witch. But seeing as how he wasn't allowed inside, that wasn't much of an option now was it?
So instead....It was time to do a little networking.