Disoriented, Spike shot up straight in the bed and looked around at his surroundings; taking in the disheveled bed and the petite blonde that lay curled up in the middle, sleeping peacefully. He scrubbed his hands over his face and ran them through his tousled locks as he pieced together the events from the night before, only to find that bits and pieces were missing thanks to the alcohol he had consumed. With a look of fright plastered on his face, Spike untangled the sheets from around his body, crawled out of the massive silk covered bed and darted to the other side of the room; all the while chanting, “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!”
Swooping down to pick up scattered articles of clothing from the floor, Spike busied himself by quickly getting dressed. “What have I done?!” He muttered to himself, stuffing his feet into his boots and clumsily tying the laces; all the while unaware that his ramblings had awakened the vampire behind him.
A slow smile of happiness brightened Buffy’s features as she awakened and stretched languidly before sitting up. She watched Spike for a minute, drinking in the sight of him, before crawling to the edge of the bed. Halfway through her journey, Buffy stopped cold when she finally understood the words that Spike was mumbling. “Spike,” she asked, timidly, reaching out to place a shaky hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?!” Spike cried incredulously, literally flying off the bed and away from Buffy. “Is there anything about this situation that isn’t wrong?”
“Again with the what and the huh?”
“What in the bleeding hell was I possibly thinking last night? Coming here of all places, shagging my mortal enemy! I must be out of my fucking mind! Not only fucking a vampire, but bloody sleeping next one who killed her husband, what in the hell was going through my mind?” Spike’s rant had brought on a flush of color, his face and neck stained bright pink with frustration and anger. As he stalked from one corner to the other, arms flying and cuss words spilling from his mouth, Spike paid no attention to Buffy. When he finally stopped pacing and turned to look in her direction, Spike asked, “Why the hell are you crying? What…forgot to drain me dry after fucking me like you did your husband? What was his name? Riley?”
“I…I wasn’t planning on killing you or hurting you in anyway. Not at all, I came back here to help you.” Buffy whispered, pulling her knees up to rest her quivering chin on. “And, as far as Riley goes, you don’t know the whole story. No one does.”
“Doesn’t rightly matter now does it? Dead, bloodless husband drained by not so loving wife, what more does one need to know, Buffy?” Spike spat, his temper had reached its peak, words spewing from his mouth with seething rage. Grabbing his duster that was draped over a cream colored chair, he turned and pointed towards Buffy. “And this, whatever the hell last night was, didn’t happen as far as I am concerned. Stay away from me, my friends and my family unless you have a strong desire to be dust. Is that understood?” Spike flung open the bedroom door and stormed out, not waiting for a response from Buffy whose silent tears had turned into full blown sobbing as she crumpled into a heap in the center of the bed.
He made it halfway home before his temper finally began to cool down and his conscience made its presence known. Not only did he have to find out a way to apologize to Drusilla, but something in his heart ached because of the way he had treated Buffy. After several long blocks, Spike stopped in his tracks, turned around and headed back in the direction he had come from. Within minutes, he was nervously shuffling from one foot to another as he debated if he should knock or just go inside. Deciding on the latter, figuring that if he knocked Buffy would more than likely not answer; Spike slowly eased the front door open and went inside.
When he got to her bedroom, the door still standing wide open from his abrupt departure, the sight he was greeted with made his heart break a little more. Buffy was curled up on her side, still in the center of the bed, the silk sheets pulled protectively around her naked form as she sobbed into the mattress; her body shaking violently as she gasped deeply for unneeded oxygen. Tentatively, Spike stepped inside the softly lit room and stood at the end of the bed.
“What do you want now?” Buffy asked between hiccups and sniffles. “Just couldn’t stand not being mean to me some more? Wanted one more round of Kick-the-Buffy?”
“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that, pet. I apologize, I was a bad rude man and it was uncalled for.” With his eyes downcast, staring at a very interesting speck on the carpet, Spike could feel his old insecurities growing inside as he waited for a response from Buffy. In a matter of seconds Spike felt the shield of a well constructed bad boy image slipping away and the tell tale signs of his former self returning. If Buffy didn’t say something soon, Spike was sure that poncy William would be babbling soon. Finally, Spike looked up and saw that she was now sitting upright with the silken sheet clutched at her heart and gazing at him expectantly. “So, um…can we talk?”
“Sure, apology accepted. Take a load off, Slayer.” After wiping the tears from her eyes, Buffy reached over the side of the bed and retrieved the black silk robe from the night before and put it on. “What’s the topic gonna be?”
“You said that no one knew the whole story about what happened with your husband and I was wondering if maybe you would tell me.” Spike gnawed on his lip as he waited for her answer.
“Exactly what do you want to know, how or why I did it?” Buffy asked wryly, “Cuz’ if it’s the how, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.”
“The why part, luv. Actually, one part specifically has always intrigued me. The way my Watcher told the story, he never mentioned anyone else in the house being killed and since it was way back when, I would assume there were servants present, right?”
“Yep, there were plenty of them roaming around the grounds. Riley was actually pretty well off for that time, had the big house and lots of property that needed gobs of servants to deal with it. Why?”
“Well, why aren’t there any records of them being killed? One would assume that an evil soulless vampire would have massacred everyone in the household.”
“It wasn’t them that I was after, Slayer.” Doubt filled Buffy’s mind as she contemplated telling Spike the entire story with all of the gory details. “Do you really want to know why my husband was the only victim? I mean really want to know the reason? It’s not pretty and you cannot judge me for what I did, all right? Not if I tell you.” At Spike’s eager nodding, Buffy began her tale. “The night that I was killed Riley and I were on our way home from my parent’s house. We had had dinner with them in order to share our news. You know, no phone and all made telling people things difficult. Anyway, we were a couple of miles from the house and it was a horrible night; cold and rain mixed with snow. Not pleasant.
Well, there was a ruckus and the next thing I know, we were out of the carriage and on the freezing ground. Henry, our coachman, was lying just up ahead. I could tell that he was dead by the angle his neck was bent, but his eyes were still full of fright. I remember screaming for help and scrambling to my feet to find Riley. I couldn’t find him anywhere, I was so scared. That’s when they got me, while I was standing there in the middle of the road crying my pathetic eyes out. Willow laughed at me and taunted me because my husband had left me alone; pointing in the direction that he had run away like a frightened little girl. When she lunged at me, I ran in the direction of the house but my dress made it too hard. Eventually they got me, Willow did the most damage. She was the one who drained me, then fed me from her wrist. Xander took a few sips, but by the time he started I had already fainted.
Anyways, I guess you already know most of that. The who’s and the how’s of being a vampire. What I haven’t told you is why I was so mad at Riley for leaving me alone to be murdered. I was pregnant, Spike. About two months along and he left me and our unborn child to be happy meals for the undead. Is that a good enough reason to kill him, Slayer?”
TBC...
[Reviews - 382]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 3259 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Buffy's usual not so pleasant morning after. Please review!