Chapter 12

She hadn’t heard the scuffle until she was right on top of it—she probably would have gone the other way if she had; and that shamed Buffy, she was the Slayer and she would have willingly left someone in danger. True there was very little chance she could do anything, but…She was the Slayer, she had to at least try. Besides, maybe it would help her clear her mind. Clear her mind of all the things she would really not be thinking at the moment….or ever.

“Picking on the elderly? That’s just sad…I mean, I’d worry you have a thing for necrophilia and you’re hoping to just scare her to death, but…vamp…you’re all kinda dead anyway.”

The vampire just looked at her. He’d heard that the Slayer was out of commission for a while—what was she doing out and about?

“Could at least try to pick on someone that will put up a fair fight…or maybe that was a fair fight for you…” Buffy took advantage of the vampire’s confusion—over what she was not entirely sure—to get the old woman to leave.

“You’re looking pretty fair there yourself,” he finally replied.

“What is that…you know what, never mind. Can I just stake you now?” Buffy had found a stick that looked strong enough and advanced on the vampire.

“Oh you’re not going to stake me little girl. I’m going to drink your blood and drag your body with me to show everyone how pathetic the Slayer’s become.”

Buffy couldn’t even come up with anything to that—it was stupid sounding and….quite possibly what was going to happen.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this done with,” Buffy faked a right hook and used his movement to kick his legs out from under him. “Glad you’re seeing it my way.”

He was up before she had time to get down to stake him and seconds later Buffy was fighting the instinct to put a hand to her mouth—as if holding injuries ever really helped anyway.

She managed to hit him once in the stomach and then again just under his right eye before he struck again.

The first hit took her off guard; she hadn’t even seen it coming. She saw the second but wasn’t quick enough to stop it and could only move with it, lessening the impact.

“This is just sad, Slayer.” The vampire looked truly pleased with himself as he brought a swift kick to her stomach, then another when she nearly doubled over. “And here I thought it would be fun.”

Buffy tried to kick him, but he grabbed her leg and twisted it until she thought something was going to break or snap out of place. Seconds later, she was flat on her back in the grass, gasping for air, the sudden impact with the hard, unforgiving ground knocking the wind out of her.

She could just look up at the vampire who was smiling down at her, one leg on either side of her body. She knew she should grab his legs, knock him off balance…but she couldn’t get her mind to convince her body to do even that much.



Spike wondered if knocking off a liquor store counted the same as nicking a few things from the grocery?

Maybe, he thought as he poured his third glass of bourbon, someday he could ask the Slayer her opinion on the matter. Assuming she ever spoke to him again. She was probably off right now telling the Poof what a right fuck-up he was. Then Peaches’d probably kiss it all better and—

He did not need those thoughts in his brain. He already had enough of them—enough memories of Dru and Angelus to last more than a lifetime, he certainly didn’t need to add images of the Slayer and Peaches to the gallery.

Come to think of it, Spike was actually surprised His Holy Forehead hadn’t stopped Buffy from coming to his crypt…Maybe he’d been hoping she would stake him.

He wondered if Peaches was going to think him a nancy boy from here on out for giving the Slayer that bear. Not that it mattered really, he already hated the prat; what did it matter what he thought?

Just as long as he didn’t go rip it up or something.

Spike had put a lot of thought into that bear, dammit! He was certainly not going to stand for it getting killed just because He Who Never Smiles got a little jealous.

He didn’t think the Slayer would let him do that, but he’d never been a very good judge of her actions where the poof was involved.

Okay, so he wasn’t exactly a good judge of her actions the rest of the time ei—But he could be, when he actually put his mind to it, he could predict the Slayer’s moves better than she could and if he was right, then right now….

What the fuck was he in here feeling sorry for himself and trying to get pissed for? Buffy was out there possibly—

Spike didn’t even bother to pull his t-shirt back on or grab his duster as he ran out of his crypt. He had to find Buffy.

If she was perfectly safe and sound, well then he’d probably have to stop her from staking him, but…

It wasn’t but a few hundred feet from his crypt that he found his Slayer.

“You know mate,” he tried for casual as he saw the vampire sitting astride Buffy, “It’s not nice to take what’s already someone else’s.”

“I’m going to kill the Slayer,” the vampire didn’t take his eyes off of Buffy, “Be jealous if you want but you’re not going to—“

“That’d be where you’re wrong,” Spike was upon them in mere seconds and with one quick yank, had pulled the vampire off of Buffy, leaving him to land about ten feet behind him. “Can you get up, luv?” he asked Buffy softly, ignoring the other vampire for the moment.

“I..I think so,” she said carefully, her breathing still not even.

“Go get up against that tree there,” he pointed just two feet behind her. “Get up against it so at least you don’t have your back exposed and you’ve got some way of protecting yourself, okay?”

Buffy just pushed herself onto her elbows and nodded.

Spike had enough faith in her that he turned his attention back to the vampire that had been trying to sneak up on him.

“Now where were we?” he asked, pretending to think about it, “Right, I was explaining how it’s not nice to take something that isn’t yours.”

“It’s not yours either,” the vampire replied, having no idea who Spike was—or that he should probably be rather afraid of him.

She is mine. Anybody’s going to kill her, it’s going to be me. Not some wanker who takes advantage of her not being at top form. Really, is there even any fun in it then if she’s not fighting back?”

“What’s it matter if she’s fighting back? The point is to kill her. She’s the Slayer.”

“You are a shame to vampires everywhere,” Spike said, shaking his head in what looked like disappointment. “Everyone knows there’s no real accomplishment, no real pleasure, in a kill if they don’t fight back. Then again,” he seemed to have thought of something, “I don’t rightly feel like fighting you so I guess I’d be breaking my own rule then if I did this, huh?”

“Did what?” the vampire dumbly asked.

As a response Spike quickly punched him in the nose, kicked him in the stomach, and did a few other things Buffy couldn’t even distinguish, before somehow—again she wasn’t sure—ripping his head off.

Spike looked rather put out as he tried to brush the dust off himself. “Knew there was a reason I always stayed fully clothed for this.”

When he turned his eyes to Buffy she was surprised to see, besides the expected concern, anger in his expression.

She was pretty sure they heard his next statement all the way back at the hospital.

“What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?!”



TBC.........please review :)





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