Buffy didn’t know what had possessed her to do it. A day before she knew she would have been too afraid to do this on her own. His face still haunted her every time she was alone. And now she was walking alone in a cemetery, when the clock had struck past midnight almost an hour ago.
A restlessness had come over her during the evening. Maybe it was because she had been patrolling the last few nights, and her body had gotten used to burning up the extra energy. Or it could simply be an impulse after a really mellow day. She’d managed to make her talk with Giles very short and today she’d also succeeded with her plan to avoid Xander and Willow. In the classes she had had with one or both of them she’d sat on the other side of the classroom. The role as pupil made her feel totally out of place. Pretending to take notes. Pretending to listen to the teacher. Pretending to care about all of it.
Before there had been a reason to go to school. Hanging out with friends, playing with the thought of a real future. A future that didn’t involve demons or slaying. Now she hurried out of the classroom when the bell rang, and none of her ‘friends’ followed. She didn’t even think she wanted them to. If they had it would only lead to awkwardness, forced conversations and... there was no place for her among them.
Stalking through Restfield she was a hunter searching for a prey. This feeling was new, she couldn’t remember it being there even before him. She wanted to kill something. And this was her element. This was right, here where the only creatures she ever saw demons and they either attacked or fled.
The first lucky winner was a newly risen fledgling. She watched as the vampire struggled to break free from her grave and the moment she had both feet on the ground, Buffy stepped forward.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Spike snapped.
The surprise on her face only lasted for a second, then she yanked her arm from his grip and turned around. Without saying a word, she began to walk away. Spike darted after and made a move to grab her again when she suddenly span around. The look of hurt in her eyes made him flinch.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” she cried, “Why didn’t you – you...!”
Her fist smashed into his nose. Before Spike could collect himself, her foot connected with his stomach and he crashed into a crypt wall. She was already advancing upon him again, the fury rolling off her.
“Of course I didn’t say anything!” Spike looked her straight in the eye, even as she aimed another punch. “You would never have come with me!”
He tried to get hold of her wrists as she struck again, but she was too fast and he received a second blow in the face. This was crazy. He hadn’t come here to fight her!
“Stop it!” he said, blocking a left hook.
“What’s the matter, Spike?” she said, “I thought you’d taken on Slayers before.”
A growl rumbled through his chest. “I don’t want to fight you!”
That made her halt for a brief second; enough time for Spike to grab her hands and lock them behind her back. Immediately she began to struggle in his grip. This was going nowhere.
What right did he think he had?! He couldn’t just step up to her and suddenly want her to... what, talk with him? He’d killed two Slayers. He was a murderer! It was just she who had been stupid not to realize it from the start. Why hadn’t he reminded her? He should have done... Everything was his fault.
The hands that held her were strong. Honestly, she couldn’t judge if he was stronger than her or not. It didn’t matter. He was a vampire. She was the Slayer. Nothing else was of importance. As she threw her head backwards she hit him again, and he howled in pain. Whirling around, she saw him press a hand against his bleeding nose.
“Was it all some sick game?!” the Slayer yelled. “Making me trust you and then turn against me?!”
“No! I really need –“
He was broken off as she practically threw herself on him. They tumbled backwards; she trying to get in another punch and he, attempting to keep his balance. Both failed. Spike’s back collided with something and for a second he closed his eyes, relieved. When he opened them again he saw the Slayer’s face an inch away from his. There was barely time for him to register the fury in her eyes, when whatever he was leaning against gave out.
A gasp came from the girl’s lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They crashed to the ground loudly, a small ‘ouch’ coming from the Slayer.
It seemed like the fall knocked all fight out of her. For a short time she just lay on top of him, panting softly in his ear. She was so warm. Even through two layers of clothes he could feel her body heat. But the warmth was abruptly taken away when she hastily scrambled off him.
They were in a crypt, most likely the same one she had slammed him into earlier. Spike watched as the Slayer leaned against a nearby stone wall. Slowly, she pulled a hand through her hair, before looking at him. He held her gaze for a moment, but then she looked away. Spike sighed. He stood up and walked the two steps so he could sink down beside her.
“What did the Watcher say?”
The Slayer flinched at the rough sound of his voice, but when she answered it was in a flat, emotionless tone; as if she was reciting her homework.
“Spike, also known as William the bloody, killed two Slayers,” she said, “He disappears without trace in seventy-seven and shows up twenty years later with a third Slayer. And I’m the lucky one.”
”Love –“
“Why do you call me that?!” She turned sharply towards him. “I’m not your love! Honestly, I think I prefer when you call me pet. At least that suits the way you see me.”
It was impossible to not hear the hurt she desperately tried to mask. Spike felt a sudden urge to pull her close and quickly shook his head, as if the motion could make the feeling go away. Scowling, he inched a little bit away from her. I’m not your love. She was completely and utterly right.
He found her looking at him, clearly waiting for him to say something, and he drew in a deep breath.
“I... I did kill two Slayers, yes,” he began, “But that was a long time ago, Slayer.”
“And that’s supposed to be some kind of excuse?!”
“No, but if you’d just –“
“How can you expect me to help you after that?!” she cried, “That you just can come up to me and –“
“If you’d shut up and listen for a moment, maybe you’d get it!”
They stared at each other for a moment, panting. Both refusing to be the first to break eye contact. A low growl vibrated through Spike’s chest. A warning she chose to ignore. The Slayer lifted her hand and he grasped her wrist. She pressed her lips tightly together and aimed at him with her other fist.
So this was her solution for everything. Use the fists when something didn’t work out? Spike thought the thought, then let it slide. He knew it wasn’t true. Even as he received a solid blow in the face, he could still see the underlying hurt in her eyes. Easily he clutched her forearms and when he stood he forced her to rise too.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked as he roughly pushed her against the wall.
She struggled a little and he gripped her tighter, pressing his chest against hers to be able to control her. For a moment fear flickered over her features, so brief that he nearly missed it. And suddenly it dawned upon him.
She fought because she could. Because she had to. Because she was scared of becoming a victim again. Spike drew back a little, searching her face for another sign of him being right. The Slayer swallowed hard and he could hear her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't think he would... Did she?
Before he could stop himself he'd let go of her arms and raised a middle finger to brush her cheek. Slowly, it travelled along her cheekbone to her chin. His gaze was transfixed on her skin. It was still slightly flushed from their “fight”. What was he doing? He jerked his hand away and abruptly pulled back. She had a small frown between her eyebrows, then she leaned back against the wall again.
“Okay,” she simply said, “Talk.”
Spike blinked. He actually had to think for a second before he remembered what she was referring to.
“Right,” he said, “Well, the Slayers I killed, I didn’t... It wasn’t supposed to... Bloody hell!”
Running a hand through his hair, he drew in a deep breath. He had to get her to trust him again. Without her he wouldn’t manage to dust his Sire and Dru anytime soon. Of course, he could wait for the new Slayer to get called. This one probably wouldn’t last too long anyway. Suddenly the female from his dreams flashed before him. And he found himself opening his mouth.
“Yes, I killed two Slayers,” he said, “Fighter to fighter. And I can’t say I’m ashamed of it. But... you remember what I said? That I wouldn’t harm you?”
After a beat of obvious hesitation, she nodded.
“If I’d wanted to kill you, I could’ve done it by now.” He could practically see the wheels spinning in her head, and almost breathed a sigh of relief; she was listening. “Look, Slayer, we’ve got the same goal. Neither of us is gonna be able to reach it on our own.”
When she didn’t respond, he simply asked; “Do you think you’ll manage to take Angelus down by yourself?”
Without looking at him she began to walk away, only to halt in the doorway. With one hand resting on the door frame she turned her head slightly.
“The day after tomorrow,” she said, “Meet me outside my house and we’ll patrol.”
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
What was she doing? The day after tomorrow. What would Giles think?
Buffy pushed her bedroom window open and slipped in quietly. It was quiet inside the house, mom must have gone to bed a long time ago. Checking the clock she saw it was past two.
She took off her clothes and threw the stake she into the closet. Grabbing her pyjamas she pulled it on. She was buttoning it up just as the sound of footsteps was heard.
“Buffy? Are you up?”
So mom wasn’t asleep after all. The door handle moved down and Joyce stepped inside, frowning as she saw her daughter standing in the middle of the room.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I...” Buffy hastily looked over the room, “It was hot! So I had to open the window.”
“Oh, I see,” Joyce gave her a small smile, “Well, you better go to bed now. I thought I heard something, but it was probably just a cat.”
His face flashed before Buffy and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. No, he can’t come in here. Vampires can’t come in uninvited. But what if...
“Mom... you know the man that was outside our house the other day?”
“Yes?” Joyce said, “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“No, no. I just wondered... have you seen him after that?”
“No, not since that night,” Deep lines of worry had furrowed on Joyce’s forhead. “Buffy, are you sure he hasn’t hurt you? I know you’re chosen to kill these... creatures, but I... well, it’s very hard to accept.”
Buffy felt herself relax and answered the question she walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers. “I know,” She gave a small laugh, suddenly thinking back at when Merrick had walked up to her in the school yard with his big speech; ‘only you can kill them’. “Anyway, if you see him, don’t invite him in. He is... dangerous.”
“I promise.” Her mother pressed a kiss on the her cheek. “Goodnight.”
“Night, mom.”
As Joyce left the room Buffy closed her eyes.
The day after tomorrow. What would Giles say? Perhaps she should try to explain, and say... what, exactly? He had been so clear about pointing out the evilness of all vampires yesterday. He had even demanded that they would begin to patrol together tomorrow. Buffy blinked.
Giles didn’t need to know.
TBC