The Worst Betrayal by twilightchild

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Chapter Notes: Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not my property. I ask for no money for this fic, so I’d appreciate not being taken to court.

Author’s Note: Much thanks to DreamsofSpike, who’s done the beta work for this fic. My hero. ^_^ A bit of a warning, readers, this fic is a bit darker than my usual ones. It’s more twisted, more disturbed, and less fluffy in general. Any implied m/m parts can be easily avoided, I’ll make sure to post warnings on the chapters that have them.
The Worst Betrayal

His skin was cool and smooth beneath her own. She rode him with wild abandon, throwing her head back so that her recently shortened blonde hair tickled her own shoulders. His hands were skating over her body, moving across her hips and down her legs. Buffy knew without looking that he was staring at her with complete adoration.

Her hand moved over his body possessively, marking him as hers “ her toy to play with. His hard chest and abs felt wonderful under her fingertips. His hips bucked hard, thrusting up towards her so that he could bury his cock deeper inside her. All the while he was soundless “ a near impossibility.

Pleasure was all that she wanted or needed from him.

When she looked down at his beautifully sculptured features, she decided once again that the shiver that went through her body had to be no more than simple lust. His deep blue eyes never left hers “ once she finally allowed him to see them. He had no soul of his own, and yet somehow, he was stealing hers.

He had to be stopped.

Before she could even comprehend where it had come from, the stake was raised in her hand. She brought it down swiftly, slamming the pointed wood through flesh and rib, into her lover’s unbeating heart. His eyes widened, and his body stilled, the look he gave her one of confused betrayal. The word ‘hurt’ could not even begin to describe the agony she saw in his eyes.

Buffy felt his fingers close around her wrist, and she looked down at their hands “ hers still gripping the weapon she had shoved through his chest, his still holding onto her.

She looked back up at his face, gasping in surprise. His beautiful features were suddenly swollen and disfigured. One sharp cheekbone was shattered, his lips split in three different places, and one eye was swollen completely shut.

The Slayer wasn’t naked anymore. She was fully dressed, crouched on top of her beaten vampire lover, who was lying on his back on cold concrete. The sounds of a familiar police station were not far away, the smells of the alleyway assaulting her senses.

All of these barely registered in Buffy’s mind.

The one she’d wanted to kill quickly, mercifully, to save both him and herself, was lying beaten and broken beneath her. Before she could even begin to do or say anything to make it right, he’d arched his back, opening his mouth wide in a scream of agony “ that was completely silent.

His body crumbled to dust beneath her, and she was left on her hands and knees crouched on the cold stone “ alone in the dark.


“NO! Spike!” Buffy sat up quickly, reaching out desperately to grasp nothing but air. She breathed in harsh, ragged gasps that she refused to believe could possibly be the beginning of sobs.

Not for *him*!

The undeniable presence of the tears on her cheeks only served to further confuse her. She sighed heavily, wiping away the useless tears as she peered around her dark room. A storm had begun outside “ like an omen stirring up the bad feeling inside her even more.


If it was possible, tonight the graveyard seemed even more depressing than usual. The steady drizzle that had started the night before hadn’t eased “ which was more than a little unusual.

It wasn’t often that such damp weather visited southern California.

Buffy had not slept since the last dream she had had about Spike. She had had five of them in the past two weeks. The very first had been the night after she’d beaten “ the last night that she’d seen Spike, in the alleyway behind the police station. He hadn’t even shown up at her birthday party, two nights ago.

Of course, she hadn’t wanted him there “ really, she hadn’t “ but she had still expected him to try to poke his nose into it, anyway.

She wasn’t disappointed “ not at all.

She hadn’t seen him at all since that night at the police station. She’d actually managed to stay away, not to seek him out, no matter how unusual his behavior seemed “ no matter how badly her body ached for him.

But by tonight, Buffy had decided that enough was enough. Their apparently mutual avoidance could not go on any longer. Patrol had been beyond boring for the last week. She had not seen him at all, and a part of her could not help but anxiously wonder…

…not that it was important. What the undead bleached menace thought of her didn’t matter. He shouldn’t have gotten in her way, shouldn’t have…

Buffy found herself in front of the vampire’s crypt sooner than she had expected “ and before she was really prepared to be there. Swallowing hard, she willed her chaotic, confusing thoughts to silence.

Suddenly remembering her dream, she put her stake back into her coat pocket. Then, after a moment’s reconsideration, she took it out and tossed it aside completely. No sense taking any chances, she shrugged.

She then spent a few *more* tense moments trying to convince herself that her hand was *not* trembling as she reached towards the door.

“If I might interrupt whatever it is you’re doing…”

The Slayer gave a very girly yelp before whirling around. At first, her heart leapt, thinking that maybe it was Spike, who, much to her embarrassment, had often found her lingering near his crypt.

She had to ignore the way her heart fell when she set eyes on a demon of average height standing behind her. He was probably no more than two inches taller than Spike, but his skin was a shade of green that definitely didn’t belong on the blonde vampire.

The forest green scales gave way to many small gray horns all across his eyebrow ridges, and down each cheek. If she hadn’t known that demons were immortal, she’d have said that he had aged poorly. His face had deep lines around the eyes and around his thin-lipped mouth. His hair was gray, falling haphazardly down around the base of his neck.

“You know,” Buffy spoke once she’d calmed down, “if you wanted to get the drop on a Slayer, it’s usually not a good idea to politely call their attention. Though, gotta say, it’s kind of refreshing. It’s not often I get a polite demon to slay.”

He raised his hands, which would have been very human-looking if not for the green scales across the backs, in a gesture of surrender. The skin of his palms seemed thicker as well. “I assure you, I mean you no harm. In fact, on the contrary, I wish to enlist your help.”

Buffy stared at him incredulously. “What is it about demons around here wanting to call truces? You guys keep forgetting one very important thing “ I’m the *Slayer*. That means I kill you “ I don’t help you.”

“You help those that are innocent.”

“Yeah, which doesn’t include demons or vampires.”

The strange demon before her smirked. “And what of vampires with souls?”

Her eyes turned cold. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “Alright, so you know about Angel…what does this have to do with him?”

“Who said he was the vampire of whom I spoke?”

Buffy laughed. “Are you saying there’s another vampire with a soul?”

His expression grew suddenly somber and troubled. “My dear, I’m saying there are many. And right now “ each and every one of them needs your help.”

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