He had spent years trying to fit in with society, with other peers his own age, but he was a misfit since day one. Mother would hold social gatherings in order to help him make acquaintances, but he had always been a dysfunctional mess around the guests. At the age of twenty-two he decided it was time to leave his incompetence behind and become more of the man he wished he’d been from the beginning. He began fraternizing with a group, four other men his age that soon led him down the wrong path. The one boy, Lytton was the leader of the pack, giving him different tasks that he needed to complete if he was to run with this crowd. Fitting in was his top priority, so whatever Lytton asked of him, he did them thinking that by doing the odd jobs assigned, he would gain respect. Mostly his efforts were spent on petty theft, such as pick-pocketing and snatching goods from local shops, until the evening he chose the wrong person to steal from. That night altered his future in ways he never could fathom. He had turned into the alpha male; the one the others listened to out of fear. The tables had turned and he rose to the top. From that moment on he walked with confidence and was no longer the laughing stock among the people. So many options were offered to him that dark night, and only one was to thank for the liberation, William the Bloody.
****
Buffy had skipped out of The Bronze in a hurry, thanks to Willow, and now was walking across town for a routine patrol. It was just coincidence that she was starting the hunt in the cemetery a notorious Big Bad lived, and if she happened to see him, then so be it. Could she be anymore lame and with the denial?
Okay, so face the facts. He’s hot. Who in their right mind wouldn’t think that? It doesn’t put me in the wrong mind; it just means I have eyes. Throw in the fact that he does just about anything for you, and maybe I’m not the one looking so good in this. Plus, he did stop me from hurting anyone earlier. I should thank him. It was one hell of a job, conquering your own psyche and justifying your actions against skewed logic.
Just as she traipsed through the towering iron gates of the graveyard, a masculine form fled from a mausoleum about two hundred feet ahead. The moonlight was filtering through thick clouds, giving little distance of sight. As the figure neared, a slender build with a confident swagger, her stomach turned to knots, and her nerves flared up so bad, she thought she’d need medical attention. Damn his sexy effect.
Human night-vision was a bloody joke. How any of them ever fumble around in the dark was beyond him. He had nearly tripped twice since leaving his place, and still couldn’t see a lick of what was to come. Not to mention, the hunger gnawing at his belly was driving him insane. It had been so long since eating food was a necessity; he’d forgotten the dull ache that formed in an empty stomach. Breaking the concentration of looking at the ground for any other objects he might fall over, Spike glanced up, “Oh balls...,“ stopping dead in his tracks, unsure of what to do. Had she seen him already? Of course she had if he could see her, which meant doubling back was out of the question. Now was not the time to have a confrontation with the Slayer. She was most likely here to pop him one good in the nose for hitting her earlier or maybe to yell at him because he’d vanished without her knowing. He hoped it was the latter.
“Spike,” she said, hands firmly on her hips as she stepped closer.
A sharp nod, “Buffy.” He needed an excuse, and quick.
“When I came back up, funny thing, the room was empty with an open window... Any theories?” Buffy asked with a slight edge to her voice, she hadn’t meant to come out. Being stricter and having the walls around her when she was around Spike was easier. Everything he did revolved around emotions and that scared her. Emotions were things she thought better locked away in a safe guarded box.
Bringing his arms up over his chest, “Hmm... bit hurt ‘cause the disappearin’ act are we?” His eyes wide as he waited for a response. Tilting his head, ever so slightly to the side, mouth open some, the tip of his tongue touching the back of his top teeth.
“Oh please. You really do think you're God’s gift, don‘t you?” she snapped.
Getting Buffy upset with him wasn’t quite the plan he had in mind, but Spike figured it would do the trick of making her want to leave. Grinning wildly, “Hardly.” Dropping his arms to walk forward, leaving little space between them, “Creatures of the night weren’t created under his oversized hand,” gesturing towards the sky. It occurred to him that he didn’t fit in that category anymore, “Don’ mean I can’t switch sides, does it?”
Jutting her chin out, “Actually, it does Spike. Creatures like you can never be good. Evil is all you are.” Why was it the words escaping her lips were the opposite her mind was thinking? The harshness came out to keep him away, to keep her feelings unhurt, but all she did was crush his. Admitting her true affections seemed like the last hurdle to being happy, so why couldn’t she just do it? Maybe she was addicted to the pain and misery like he’d said, she could never let herself be content.
Those words cut deep, she was always out to make him feel worse to match the way she felt about herself. “Speakin’ of all the nasty fiends floatin’ around this town, don’t you have someplace to be? Sacred duty an’ all that rot?”
Great, now he’s mad, “Look, Spike-”
“Do yourself a favor Slayer, stop tryin’ to go with what those dusty ol’ books your buggered Watcher has, and learn from the real world. Take port from the battle to search the island, not everythin’ is what it seems,” stomping passed.
Buffy jogged to catch up, “I know that you’re different and that not everything is in black an' white-”
“Could’ve fooled me, luv,” he muttered, not breaking his strides.
“But I’m The Slayer. I-I can’t just run around town at night with you, having drinks or tearing down buildings! It doesn’t work like that!”
Stopping abruptly, Buffy almost ran into his back before he turned sharply on his heel, “You did with Angel.”
“Angel had-,” Spike’s face hardened, his jaw clenched as he glared at her, so she changed her wording, “I was young. I didn’t understand the repercussions of being with him.”
Spike snorted, “You know? I do the good deeds, help people, however stupid they are for followin’ strangers at night, to do right by you, and yet, I’ll never be held up high like King of the Hair-gel.”
Her demeanor altered completely, “The reason I came out here tonight was to thank you. For protecting my family and making sure I was cared for. I would have told you before, but you went all avoidy on me.”
Moments passed before either said a word, then Spike cracked a smirk, “Avoidy?” Buffy-isms were his favorite.
“The Houdini number?”
“Houdini,” waving his hand, “Nothin’ more than smoke n’ mirrors.”
Behind Spike, at the gates, were three outlines, and by the way her Slayer radar was on the fritz, she knew it was some vamps out for a snack. He didn’t even seem to recognize his own kind, since he was still going on about what a fake the magic mastermind was.
“There’s far more talented warlocks an’ the like out there who-”
“Spike!” Buffy whispered, not wanting to gain attention yet. “Three blood suckers behind you. Up for a fight? I am.” She didn’t wait for his answer; instead she called out, “Hey! Did you guys forget whose town this is?”
“Uhh, Buffy...,” Spike couldn’t believe his luck. How was he supposed to fend off what he used to be just hours before without any super strength or shiny weapon? Buffy wasn’t to find out he was human by seeing how weak he was in a brawl, he had extensive scenarios already thought up. He also had no choice in the matter, as the vampires had already circled them.
“You thought what? You guys would go out, see a show then grab a bite to eat?” Standing off and pulling out a stake from her back pocket, “Betcha didn’t count on running into me, huh?”
The main vampire morphed, baring his fangs, “Get em’ boys.” The other two slipped into their demon visage.
Buffy was the first one to make a move, punching the first vampire in front of her, and using him as leverage to kick the one behind her. Spike was left to face off with the third. The vampire pounced, but was hit in the back of the head as Spike dodged him and whipped out his stake.
The encounter continued with punches being thrown and kicks flying through the air. Buffy had been thrown to the ground by one of her opponents, flipping back up, she jabbed him in the gut before elbowing him on the side of his face. The second came at her, round-housing her in the back, knocking her into the arms of the first vampire. He held onto her arms tightly, allowing his friend to advance.
“Hold still, this will only hurt a lot,” they cackled.
“Been there, done that!” Lifting both feet, she pushed off the advancing vampire, shoving the one holding her into a headstone, causing him release his grip on her.
Spike was trying his best to elude his attacker since he didn’t have much of an advantage. He was able to land some punches, but was mostly on the receiving end. He’d lost his stake in the grass sometime between being hurled into the air and landing head first into tombstone. A small amount of blood trickled down his forehead, but he wiped at it and stood. Being a human meant he was much more breakable and susceptible to pain, but Spike was never one to show his agony.
“Come on you pillock! Is tha’ all you got?” Spike shouted, as he thought of his next move. The sting in his lungs from having to gulp in air and the adrenaline rushing through his body only served as a distraction. Relishing in the feel of being a truly active person was something he’d have to remember to do at a later time.
Buffy had managed to dust one of assailants, leaving only two. She currently was straddling one at the waist; stake in hand, ready to plunge it into his heart when she heard Spike grunt. The other vampire had thrust his boot into Spike’s chest, sending him to the ground once more. He stood over the bleached blond with the stake that he had dropped earlier. Crying out, the Slayer flung herself off the vampire she was about to dust, rolling in the grass and sweeping her foot into the standing one’s ankles. As he fell to the ground, she wasted no time in driving the stake through his heart. Dust particles settled everywhere, the remaining vampire struggled to his feet, running fast to escape.
The thought of chasing after him crossed her mind first, but when she looked over at her fallen comrade, it dissipated quickly. Spike attempted to sit up, wincing as he did so.
“Spike? What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, concerned, she crawled to him, kneeling at his side.
“I’m fine, pet. Got myself one hell of a beatin’ is all.” Groaning as he reached up to inspect the cut at the top of his forehead.
“Lemme see,” Buffy persisted, her left hand attentively checking the wound on his head, her right had found its place on his chest. “It’ll be okay, it’s shallow so-”
Everything hit her at once. The rapid breathing, the cut, and the accelerated pounding drumming under her fingers. She froze, frowning down at him while he stared back with a hint of fear in his eyes. Neither spoke.
Breathlessly Buffy managed to choke out, “H-how... I... W-when did...?” Tears formed, blurring her sight, before rolling down her cheeks, searing into her flesh.
Spike had no words; this wasn’t how it was supposed to work. So instead he stayed silent, allowing her to come to terms with this new information. Gently, he laid a hand over the one on his chest, squeezing lightly and taking a deep breath, “Buffy, luv-”
Licking her bottom lip, “You’re alive...”