“You!” Joyce managed at last.
Spike fidgeted nervously, looking down at his feet and up at the woman.
“Hello Joyce.”
That was when he felt it.
Quickly, Spike scanned the garden and smelled the air, searching for the feeling’s source. The Slayer was only a second after him. The difference was that she became paralyzed. Her whole body went rigid and her gaze fixed straight ahead. Spike knew she would begin to tremble at any moment.
“Let’s take this inside,” he snapped, taking a step forward to push the humans inside the house. He never had time to do more than raise a hand, when the voice sounded through the air;
“Willie boy! Don’t say you’re not happy to see me?”
Buffy didn’t even turn towards the voice. Joyce did however, and Spike too. Without a second thought he took a step forward.
“Get your mother inside, Slayer,” he said. “Now!”
“Who is this man?” Joyce asked. “Buffy, is this another-“
Breathing an inward sigh of relief as the Slayer finally took hold of Joyce’s arm, Spike smirked at Angelus.
“Finally waking up, are we?” Spike said, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the girl dragging her mum over the threshold.
“What the hell are you playing at, Spike?” Angelus said. “You... you’re not with the Slayer, are ye?”
Spike snorted. “What do you think of me, Peaches?”
He could practically see the wheels turning in the older vampire’s mind and smirked anew. Angelus glanced towards the house again and when an evil grin spread over his lips Spike looked too.
Even from here, he could see the tremors that rushed through the Slayer’s body. At least the women were out of harm’s way inside the house. Perhaps he could make a run for it again; mightn’t be too hard. Hopefully it was the girl Angelus wanted to torment at the moment, and then he wouldn’t put too much effort into chasing him.
“You’re just playing her, right?” The words bore their usual cocky, self-assured tone, but there was a faltering buried in Angelus’ voice. A faltering that to someone who had known the vampire for years was clearly noticeable. The blond vampire’s smirk grew wider but, just as he opened his mouth to answer, the other’s nostrils flared.
“Wha...” he said. “You reek of her! Are you fucking her?!”
The sparring. Spike had had the girl pressed up against him; her scent was all over him. He took a step backwards. That was a mistake and he should’ve seen it before he did it. Angelus was like a bloodhound when it came to fear.
“You... Have you teamed up with her?” Angelus feigned a chuckle. “That’s just sad – even for you.
Spike put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “What? I wanted to try something new.”
“You...” Angelus growled loudly. “Don’t play with me, boy.”
The two vampires outside the house were facing each other. After his last speech Spike’s shoulders had stiffened, now he slipped into game face and beside her, Mom gasped loudly. At once Buffy came to a decision.
“Spike!” she shouted. “Come in!”
The surprise she saw on the Spike’s face was matched by his and they both leapt forward. Spike tumbled through the doorway and he banged into an invisible barrier. Buffy slammed the door shut and slumped against it, panting as if she had just run a marathon. Outside she heard him roar and flinched. Spike had already straightened himself and was on his way into the living room.
There was one frustrated bang at the door, then;
“Spike, you little fool,” he chuckled, but the sound wasn’t that of someone amused, more like insane. “Be seeing you, Buff!”
The sound of departing footsteps followed and soon Buffy could hear the laughter no longer.
A minute later Spike returned to the hall.
“The bastard is gone,” he said. “Can’t know when he’ll be back though.”
“But he can’t come in, right?” Buffy looked up at him. “Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited.”
“No.”
“What if –“
“Buffy!”
They both startled and turned towards Joyce.
“What the hell is going on here?! Who are these... people?”
Spike and Buffy looked at each other, at Joyce, and back at each other again. Then Buffy sighed and gestured towards the living room. Without a word she went and sat down on the sofa. The vampire followed her and parked himself in an armchair with the right of someone who had visited them every single day for the last ten years.
Taking a deep breath Buffy put a lock on her thoughts. She was the Slayer. She couldn’t run and hide because a vampire had come to her house. It was him! That didn’t matter. Her mother had taken a step towards acceptance of Buffy’s calling. She couldn’t ruin that. Couldn’t face another woman in a white coat, giving her the third degree about how crazy she was. She gave Joyce a weak smile. It wasn’t returned, in fact her mother didn’t even notice it. Her attention was on Spike who, in his turn, was checking his black nail polish.
“Okay.” Buffy said. “Mom, Spike. Spike, Mom.”
Finally Joyce turned to her.
“I don’t want to know his name, I want to know what he is!” she demanded. “Is he another one of these ‘vampires’ too, like that man outside?”
What should she tell her? Buffy stood up, only to sit down again. Glancing at her mother she drew in a deep breath.
“Mom... do we have to do this now?”
“Buffy! Of course...” Joyce pursed her mouth. “Yes, we do! Just... answer me.” She turned to Spike. “Who are you?”
The vampire opened his mouth but Joyce didn’t give him a chance to say anything.
“Last time you showed up here... Did you have something to do with my daughter’s kidnapping?”
“Mom!”.
“What do you expect me to think, Buffy? This man shows up here just as... Is this some kind of Stockholm syndrome?”
Slowly Buffy closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening. Putting her arms around herself she sank deeper into the cushions.
“Do you think I am... insane?” she asked in a small voice.
There was a brief pause. Hastily Buffy scrambled to her feet and backed away. Something warm was prickling her eyes. This isn’t happening. Her mother’s voice was growing fainter, she couldn’t make out the words; didn’t want to. She hugged herself harder, fixing her eyes on the wall.
Then someone was shaking her. Strong hands grasping her forearms. Pale. Vampire.
“Snap out of it, Slayer!”
Pretty blue. Desperate blue.
Spike could tell the exact moment she disappeared into herself. Her eyes became empty and her whole body went rigid.
He shook her again. “Slayer! Buffy!”
No response. The girl had been talking to her mother and the woman had been worried naturally. Was there something he’d missed in the conversation? He hadn’t been paying all too much attention to it after all.
“What did you do to her?” Still gripping the Slayer he turned to Joyce.
The woman was staring at her daughter with wide eyes, looking just as lost. When she heard the words though she rose from the coach and hurriedly stepped closer. Spike backed away, pulling the Slayer with him. The girl blinked.
“Buffy?” He and the mother said at the same time.
She blinked again and he turned her slightly so she was looking at him.
“Listen, pet.... Buffy,” he said. “You can’t stay in there.... it isn’t... Bloody hell... Just come back – things to do!”
Shaking her again he saw Joyce step forward for the second time. He paused, recalling when he had brought the Slayer back home. It was the mother who had finally made her come back to herself, perhaps...
“Buffy, sweetheart?” Joyce asked, something hysterical in her voice as she reached out to touch her daughter’s shoulder. “Do you think this is some kind of breakdown? Maybe all the...”
“She’s not bloody crazy!”
“I didn’t mean that.” Tears had started to run down Joyce’s face.
Her mother’s voice, “Do you think this is some kind of breakdown? Maybe all the...”
A brown haired woman was looking at her, pencil poised on the paper; ready to start moving at any time. Her cold blue eyes fixed on Buffy, but no feeling showing in the gaze.
“So, Buffy, tell me more about this... world of yours. You said you were... a Slayer? Is that the right word?”
Buffy looked away, pulling her knees closer to her chest. She couldn’t count the times she’d got questions about ‘her world’. Perhaps she really was insane after all.
“She’s not bloody crazy!”
Snap out of it. Buffy forced herself to draw in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
She had not known that she could tremble like this. It felt like she was out of breath, her legs could barely hold her and he was so close. A hand in her hair forced her head backwards with so much gentleness that her knees finally buckled. If she hadn’t been so short of air she would’ve screamed.
Slowly the other hand’s middle finger trailed down her shirt’s open front. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
No, no, no, no.
She wanted to beg him to stop but the words were struck in her throat. An arm snaked around her middle and dragged her closer, so close that she could feel every contour of his body.
One moment she was almost fully dressed, the next her shirt and bra were gone. Her skin was bare to him, free for touching. She desperately wanted to cross her arms over her breasts, but she was pressed so hard against him.
The middle finger lingered just above a nipple for a second, brown eyes staring at the exposed flesh. He looked so human.
“What do you think mommy will say about this?” His voice was soft and sensual, as if he was whispering love poems. It made her tremble harder. “I’ll make sure she knows all the details, right before I rip her heart out of course.”
Her heart clenched. He wouldn’t. No. He had her, that had to be enough. It had to. There was no need to hurt her more than he already could. She felt another tear spill over and slide a path down her cheek.
The hand that wasn’t holding her drew lower, unbuttoning her jeans. Then the sound of the zipper being opened echoed in her ears. At last she began to struggle in his grip. She was the Slayer. He was just another vampire. But if that was true, how come she couldn’t get lose? The only reaction her struggles got was a low moan and then he pulled her closer, a wide grin on his face.
“You’ve got a problem, Buff?” The way he said her name; it didn’t belong to her when he said it.
She was pushed to the ground and his body lay heavy over hers. No, no, no. God, what had she done to make him do this? Her struggles intensified and she almost managed to knock him off her, even though he had her arms in a death grip. Suddenly he didn’t seem as strong anymore and she desperately tried to wrench her arms away. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes and – for the briefest second – she was the Chosen One again. One girl with the power to kill his kind. Then his face transformed and fangs sliced into her skin.
The sounds he made; gulping, slurping of her. A couple of minutes more and she would be dead.
Only he stopped.
When her head was spinning and she was on the edge of blacking out, he pulled away. At first she couldn’t tell what he was doing, not until her jeans were gone and her legs forced apart. No, no, no. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to spit him in the face. She wanted to tell yell at him. She wanted the world to fade away.
“Please don’t”
He chuckled and nuzzled her neck almost tenderly, his tongue swiping over the wound.
“Don’t worry, Buff, I’ll make it good for you.”
Buffy’s eyes shot open. Then she really was fighting. Her captor received a solid hit in the face and stumbled backwards.
“Buffy...”
Her gaze flew to her mother’s, who was staring right back at her. White walls. Not going there again. And if she’d never been sent there…
“I would’ve been able to fight!” Buffy screamed. “I could have...”
Joyce moved towards her and from the corner of her eye she saw Spike stand up. Buffy backed away, almost falling over something. The vampire growled at Joyce, who had all her attention on Buffy and seemed to be searching for words. And Buffy span around and fled.
What could he do but run after her? Well, he could’ve gone to Willy’s and had himself a nice drink – or ten. He could’ve feasted on a pretty little girl. He could’ve got into a fight and kicked some demon ass. Or he could’ve stayed in that piss-hole, that for the time being was his home, and read. Yet, he was running after her.
Something had happened to the girl before Angelus got hold of her, probably before she even came to Sunnyhell. And it had something to do with the mother.
Spike found himself thanking whatever higher powers there were that the presence of Angelus was long gone. It was easy to follow the Slayer’s scent, even though she had a head start and Slayer speed wasn’t something to disregard. As Spike jogged along the streets of Sunnydale he soon noticed that the girl had a goal on this run. The house they reached smelled of tweed and dusty books – like the Watchers’ Council.
The girl was standing in front of the door, one hand raised and ready to knock. Only, she was deadly still. Careful to make sure she would notice he was there, Spike walked closer on heavy feet. When he was just a few feet away he cleared his throat, just to make sure. She didn’t react.
“Slayer?” He took another step. “Buffy?”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. In the blink of an eye, she had him pressed up against the door. The loud thump made him ignore the girl and listen for movements of her Watcher. During that moment the Slayer managed to pin his arms and was pressing him against the wood. She stared at him, face flushed and eyes wild. The vicelike grip of her hands, reminded him of just how strong Slayers actually were. She could snap his wrists easily.
“Sla-Buffy?” he said, forcing her voice into a gentle tone.
She just stared at him.
At last she backed off and Spike raised his hands to inspect the wrists. There were crescent marks in the skin and he was surprised that she hadn’t drawn blood. Looking up at the girl he saw that she seemed to have calmed down a bit. She dragged her fingers through her hair, shivering a little in the cold night air.
“My Watcher lives here,” she said.
Spike found himself grinning slightly. “Sort of figured that, pet,” he said, turning towards the door. “You gonna knock?”
He hadn’t seen it coming, perhaps he should’ve. After all, the girl was almost a ticking bomb. All the suffering just accumulating inside of her.
Suddenly her legs weren’t able to carry her anymore and she sank down on the ground. Burying her face in her hands as sobs wrecked her small body.
For a moment Spike just looked at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily and a little annoyed. Slowly, he sat down beside her and placed a hand on her back. She didn’t pull away but rather leant into him. He sat still and silent as she cried, watching the bowed head inches from his. Oh, the irony of this…
It didn’t take long before she composed herself, even though he saw that she had to force herself to do it. Her eyes were red and tiny sniffles still escaped her.
“So,” he said at last. “What about going inside?”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “What am I gonna tell him? He’ll call Mom.”
So the mother was the problem. Spike didn’t know what to think and it shouldn’t be his problem anyway. Sighing he leant his head against the door.
“She did something, didn’t she?” he asked.
The pain in her eyes when she turned towards him made him wish he hadn’t asked. Standing up, he offered her his hand.
“Come with me.”
She hesitated a moment, then took it.
He crouched down in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. This is necessary, he told himself. Can’t just leave her all by her lonesome. She seemed so tired – too tired for a sixteen year old girl.
“You live here?” she asked, the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.
“Yeah.” Spike scratched the back of his head. “Four star accommodation, isn’t it?”
He gained a giggle for that.
“You can stay here for the night, yeah?” he said. “But tomorrow... your mum’ll be worrying.”
For a moment he feared that she was going to cry again when her eyes became teary.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood up and began searching through his pockets for a cigarette. God knows he needed one.
TBC