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Chapter 4

Angela was about to look behind her to make sure Spike was following her, but he came up beside her, giving her no need to.

“Slayer, you’re very peculiar you know that?” he stated matter of factly.

She laughed. “Yeah, well I don’t understand my behavior either. I should be freaking out. But, this seems natural somehow. Like this slayer business isn’t what I am, but who I am. And it is as if I knew it all along deep inside.” She sighed. They were close to her apartment building. She suddenly realized her purse was missing. Great, she thought. Was it in the cemetery or had Spike brought it to Fredrick’s along with her?

Spike saw her searching for something. He held out a black bag to her. Grinning, he said, “Looking for this, pet? Ran back and got it before we left.”

She gave him an appreciative look, and got out her keys. She led the way to the entrance.

The vampire pointed to the building before him. “That where you live?”

Angela nodded, making her way to the doors. Inside, she pushed the button on the elevator.

“Rather kind of you to let me stay. Especially me being a blood sucker and all,” Spike thanked her.

There was a ding and the elevator opened. They stepped inside. She shrugged. “I know I should stake you. But, I have the feeling you won’t hurt me. And if you help my watcher . . .”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m still evil. The council gives out good money, and nicking is sorta tiresome after more than a hundred years. Besides, I’ve always had respect for slayers. They deserve to have a fair chance. Doesn‘t mean I care about kittens, puppies, and the other fuzzies of the world.”

“Whatever.” Her voice told that she really didn’t believe his words.

“It’s true,” he defended. “If someone brassed me off properly, I wouldn’t hesitate to drain them dry.”

The elevator stopped. Angela headed to her apartment number. She put the key in the lock. She swung the door open, entering. She expected Spike to do the same, but he only stood there.

“Goin to invite me in?” he questioned.

Putting her hands on her hips, she snapped, “Get your ass in here!”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Good enough.” He set foot inside, shutting the door. His eyes scanned the place. “Not bad.” He didn’t see a television to his disappointment, though.

Angela went to the sofa. It was green with a pillow on each end. She gestured to it. “Good enough for you? I’ve never tried it as sleep material, but it’s cozy for sitting on.”

He sat down, checking out the cushions. “Will do. Probably won’t sleep much anyway. I’m nocturnal, ya know.”

She settled down next to him. “So, why do you need a place to stay? Where did you used to live?” Her curious hazel eyes turned to him.

Spike took off his duster, placing it on the arm of the couch. He propped his boots on the coffee table. Surprisingly, his female companion didn’t comment on the action. He took out a pack of cigarettes, and his gaze questioned if she minded the smoke. Angela shook her head and he lit one.

“So, are you gonna answer my question?” Angela asked, impatiently.

He exhaled the impurities of his fag. “Used to have a crypt like a vamp ought to. Cor, I miss it. Had a lower level and a passage that led to the sewers. A while back a gang of demons raided it when I was gone. They thought it funny to place a bomb before they left. When I came back it was in rubbles. Rebecca, a friend of mine, took me in. We formed a family of sorts, her and her daughter, Katie. Her husband, on the other hand . . . Let’s just say he’s a wanker. Made me up and leave. Thinks I’m a bad influence on Katie, me bein dead and all.” His tone expressed malice for the memory of George’s judgment.

“Well, you’re free to stay here for awhile, but as you can see it’s no Ramada Inn.” She pointed to the boxes in all directions.

He snorted at that. “I’m dead, luv, a few boxes aint gonna matter to me. Wouldn’t matter if I shacked up in a garage as long I didn’t become a crispy critter. I’ll be outta yer hair in no time. I do have money, afterall.”

Angela stood up. She let out a long yawn. “Take your time,” she mumbled. “See ya in the morning, k?”

A smile was sent her way from the bleached vamp. “Night, luv.”

After she left, he sprawled across the couch. He put his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered what his future was going to be like. He’d been getting used to living with people. Now he wasn’t allowed to help Katie with her history, or cut tomatoes for Rebecca. Nope, it was back to lurking in the shadows.

Sometimes existing for centuries was a curse instead of a blessing. Never belonging anywhere. Watching everything pass by in a flash. And all you care about get snatched away, no matter how tight you held on.

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Sometime during the night Spike had drifted off. His eyes shot open when a cry hit his ears. He sprung off the couch, racing toward the sound. He ended up in the dimly moonlit bedroom, greeted by Angela’s tossing and turning. The sheets were tangled around her as she moved.

Spike went to her side. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking. “Angel, luv. . . Come on, wake up,” he murmured.

(AN: That was not a typo, he called her Angel. Remember when he said she was graceful like an angel? Well, you know Spike loves nicknames)

Angela clutched him, coming back to the real world. Her body was shaking, tears strolling down her cheeks. “I was drowning,” she whispered. Without thinking, she buried her head in his chest. He held her, stroking her hair.

“It was just a dream, luv. You’re okay.”

She shook her head. “It was so real. This vampire who was really gross looking sunk his teeth in my neck. Then . . . Then I was falling . . . Falling into a pool of water.” A sob escaped her throat. “I couldn’t breath. Oh God, it was awful!”

“All over now. Get some more sleep.” He began to get up from his seat on the bed. She caught his arm in protest.

“Stay with me for awhile. I don’t want to be alone,” she choked.

Spike settled back down. “If that’s what you want.”

Angela curled up, hugging the bedspread. “Why don’t you tell me a story?”

He rose an eyebrow at that. “What are you six?” he joked.

“Not like that. I don’t mean a fairy tale. Tell me something that happened to you. You’ve been around for like two hundred years, must have something interesting in that memory of yours.”

His first instinct was to talk about Buffy. He decided not to, however, afraid he’d start crying and make a poofter out of himself. Instead, he went for Dawn.

“Okay, I took care of this teen for awhile.” He sent her a warning look. “Don’t you dare laugh. I made a promise to someone to look after er. She lived with two witches who did right, but I still came by now and then to check up. Well, once I was coming up the street and saw the bit hopping into this car. It had this punk behind the wheel. Found out later by Red, one of the witches, that it was her boyfriend. Couldn’t believe it, I mean, she was only sixteen!”

Angela fought back giggles. It was as if he was an overprotective parent talking.

“I stayed there until she came home. At eleven, mind you. And would you believe it, a hickey! Right there pink, on her neck.”

After a long silence, Angela asked, “And . . .?”

“Bout it. Gave her a nice long chat on male intentions, though.”

Angela sighed in annoyance. “Of all the things you could have told me about you had to go for a lame boring one. Could have told me about the Boxer Rebellion or something.”

“Hey, Dawn was the first thing that came to mind!” He eyed her inquisitively. “How’d you know I was around the Boxer Rebellion?”

“I dunno. Guess I figured you would be. You seem like the type that follows the action.” She closed her eyes, exhaustion overtaking her, finally calmed down from the nightmare.

“Well, yeh. Whatta it be now? Woodstock? Or hey, the girl in the coal bin?”

There was no reply because Angela was half-asleep. Spike took the liberty of deciding for her and rambled on about Woodstock and the flower child.

___________________________________________________

Had to add the Woodstock story. : ) Anyone else love that? “I was actually at Woodstock. Fed off a flower person and spent the next six hours watching my hand move.” *L*

 
 
 
 


 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 





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