Chapter Five

Buffy wandered toward her home, basking in the warm sunshine – something she really missed, living in London – and enjoying the sense of having no pressing duties. She knew she needed to patrol later that night, but she also knew that, except for Spike, there was nothing in Sunnydale at this particular time that she couldn’t take down easily.

Thinking of Spike reminded her of Giles’ warning to be careful around him and she sighed as she acknowledged the truth to his warning.

(This isn’t my Spike. Either because the things that made him mine haven’t happened yet, or because we’re in another dimension where our lives are different. Either way, if I let him get too close, he might decide to drain me before he falls in love.)

She kicked at a rock in her frustration at being so close to him again and not being able to be with him.

After Giles had studied interdimensional spells, time travel spells and whatever else he could think of that might give them a clue, he called Buffy into his office again to discuss their options.

“As I see it, the only way we will know if this is your past, or an alternate timeline, is to carefully examine everything that has happened here so far, including anything you have done differently so far. I need to know as much as you feel you can safely tell me about what would be happening right now the past that you remember.”

Buffy wrinkled her brow in thought and then ventured. “In my time, Spike would be working on setting up a ritual to heal Drusilla, using Angel’s blood. He would have hired the Order of Taraka to kill me...” she broke off at Giles’ explosive, “Good Lord!”

“Hey, don’t sweat it – I took—okay, never mind. Oh! I almost forgot! Kendra!”

“Kendra?”

“Yes, she’s another Slayer. She was called when the Master killed me for a minute last year. She should be showing up here any time now...”her voice trailed off as she remembered how short Kendra’s career as a Slayer had been.

Giles looked at the sad expression on her face and made a mental note not to get too attached to Kendra, if and when she showed up. The realty of Buffy’s position suddenly hit him and he cringed inside for the girl he was coming to think of as a surrogate daughter.

(Dear Lord! She knows what’s going to happen to everyone around her! Who will live, who will die and how and when. What a burden to carry! And here I am telling her not to do anything to change it.)

He looked at Buffy with new-found sympathy and said gently, “We will sort this out soon, Buffy. I promise. I know it must be frustrating to know that certain things will happen if you don’t stop them, but...”

“Giles. There are some things I just don’t think I can let happen. I don’t think I’m strong enough to stand by and watch... There are just some things I don’t want to go through a second time. Or to watch someone else go through, for that matter,” she said enigmatically with a quick glance at him.

When she began her patrol that evening, she went by herself, leaving Xander and Willow to wonder what was going on with their friend. She had yet to tell anyone but Giles about her situation and the strain of pretending to be a high school junior was telling on her.

She had been avoiding the run-down industrial part of town, thinking that she would have less chance of running into Spike if she stayed away from the factory. She knew he’d taken over the Master’s minions and was technically the Master of Sunnydale right now, but she also knew he was spending more time worrying about curing Drusilla than he was killing her.

“It’s too bad,” she mused aloud as she walked through the cemetery, “I could use a good fight with Spike to take the edge off.”

“Be careful what you wish for, little girl,” she heard behind her and whirled to find the blond vamp aiming a kick at her head. She just slipped past his foot, her eyes lighting up as he followed it with a series of punches that she blocked easily.

For over an hour, they fought their way through the graveyard, dodging thrown tombstones, and leaping from crypt to crypt. Buffy’s blood was singing as they punched and kicked their way from one side of the cemetery to another. Neither one was able to get or keep the upper hand long enough to get a kill. In Buffy’s case, her intimate knowledge of Spike’s fighting style was somewhat mitigated by the weaker body she was using.

(That and the fact that I don’t want to kill him) she thought to herself as she passed up another chance to end the battle permanently.

After a while, she realized that Spike wasn’t really trying all that hard to kill her either. She could tell from the look on his face that he was enjoying every minute of the battle and she gave him one of her dazzling smiles when he laughed in appreciation of a particularly clever series of moves.

As the fight wore on, becoming less of a battle to the death and more of a sparring match, they slowed down until they were barely registering the weaker and weaker blows they exchanged.

Finally, the vampire raised his hands in the classic sign of surrender and said, “Time out, pet. What do you say?”

“Fine with me,” she answered, immediately sitting down to lean against the side of a crypt. With a sudden start, she realized she was leaning against the door of the one Spike would later choose to live in. She reached behind her and ran her hand lightly over the door she had kicked open so many times, then flinched when she felt him sit down beside her.

“So, Slayer,” he said, leaning his head back against the door with her, “when are you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on here?”

“I...I don’t know what you mean,” she tried in her best “blond” voice. “We’re enemies and we’re fighting. Except now we’re not...fighting, that is. Now we’re resting and then maybe we’ll be fighting again, and...”

She stopped when she saw that he was giving her one of his skeptical raised eyebrow looks that said, “I see right through you, Slayer.”

“Not buying that, huh?” she said with a sigh.

“Not even rentin’ it, pet.” He pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his duster and casually lit it.

“How’s Dru?” she asked abruptly, looking for a change of subject.

Spike choked on the smoke as he was blindsided by her not only knowing that Dru was with him, but that she was sick. He looked at her hard, but didn’t comment or answer her question.

“I’m not going to let you do it, you know,” she remarked casually, as though they had been discussing the ritual all along.

“Don’t try to stop me,” he warned, amazed to find that he really didn’t want her to try to stop him because he didn’t want to have a reason to kill her.

“It’s my job,” she said quietly, then added after a long pause, “And I can’t let you hurt Angel”

“Fuck your job!” he exploded. “And fuck the bloody poof, too. He owes her.”

“He probably does,” she admitted, “But I can’t let you have him, regardless.”

“Do you love him?”

The question surprised both of them, but having asked it, Spike waited stubbornly for her answer. Buffy thought hard before responding.

“I...it’s complicated.”

He snorted derisively. “ ‘S nothin’ complicated about love, Slayer. Either you do or you don’t.”

She rolled her head over to look at his angry face and couldn’t resist running her hand down one knife-edged cheekbone. She felt him start and then shiver under her touch. She made herself look into his confused eyes as she said softly, “I do.”

“I want to kill you. You know that, don’t you?” he blurted out, unsure of what was making him so angry, but knowing it had everything to do with her loving Angel and nothing to do with her being the Slayer.

“You won’t,” she said simply, dropping her hand.

“You sure about that, luv?” he tried for a cocky smirk, but it didn’t quite come off.

She nodded her head and said softly, “I know you, Spike.”

“Bloody hell, woman! Will you stop saying that! How the hell do you know me? You just met me! I don’t know YOU!”

“I know you don’t,” she said sadly. “But you will,” she added so low no one but a vampire would have been able to hear her.

“Is that a threat or promise, Slayer?” he asked, never taking his eyes off hers. Without being aware he was doing it, his hand came up to push a stand of hair off her face and he caught his breath when she closed her eyes briefly.

“I guess it’s a bit of both,” she admitted with a shaky laugh as she forced herself to move away from him and stand up.

The vampire kipped to his feet, but the comeback he’d been preparing never left his lips as a Faryl demon grabbed him from behind and tried to wrench his head off. Buffy managed to get one good punch in, enough to make the demon let go of Spike’s head, before she was grabbed herself and had no more time to see what was happening to Spike.

She had no weapons with her but her stake, which she knew wouldn’t do much more than irritate a Faryl. She soon found herself with her back to the crypt door and the vampire snarling and snapping beside her as they tried to fight off the pack of large, angry demons.

“What did you do to make these guys mad?” she gasped, kicking and punching in an effort to keep them at a distance.

“Me? What did I do? It was probably you. You’re the bloody Slayer, aren’t you?” he snarled back, slashing at the face of the nearest one with his claws.

They didn’t speak again, the only sounds being the whump! of punches landing and the snarling of the vampire and the demons. Buffy got as close as she could to him without interfering with their fighting and whispered, “I don’t think we’re winning.”

“No shit,” he growled back. “You’re all ‘save-the-world-girl’, what do you think we should do about it?”

She edged back against the door and pushed lightly to be sure it would open, then nudged him and said, “Let’s duck in here.”

“And be trapped? No thank you, Slayer.”

“Trust me?” she asked meekly.

“i should have my head examined,” he growled as he nodded at her and rushed the demons, pushing them back briefly to allow her to open the door and slip inside. At her hissed, “now!” he jumped back into the crypt while she slammed the door shut and leaned against it.

“Uh, Spike? Little help here?”

He grabbed a sarcophagus and dragged it over to lean against the bulging door.

“That’s not gonna hold ‘em long,” he growled.

“It doesn’t need to. Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the back of the crypt. When he saw her wrestling the top off another sarcophagus, he rushed to help and was soon looking down into what appeared to be a room under the crypt.

He arched an eyebrow at her, but didn’t waste time asking how she knew about the room. He just jumped down, using his enhanced vampire senses to see in the dark room. Then he turned and looked up at her.

“All clear, Slayer. Come on. I’ll catch you.”

Buffy climbed over the side of the sarcophagus and dropped lightly down, only to find herself caught just off the ground by a pair of strong arms. They both froze, bodies just barely touching, while they listened to the sounds of the Faryls trying to push the door open.

“We should hide,” she whispered. “They’ll notice the open coffin.”

“They’re mean, but they’re stupid,” he replied, inhaling the scent coming from her hair. Without meaning to, he found himself nuzzling her ear and he heard her heart beat speed up as he neared her neck.

“Not gonna bite you, luv,” he murmured as he ran his lips down to the spot just below her ear. He gently licked the spot with his tongue and when she gasped, he smiled and said, “Now I know somethin’ about you, Slayer.”

Buffy smacked him lightly on the chest, then allowed her hand to linger on the hard muscles she found there. She was finding it almost impossible to be in such close proximity to him and remember that his affections belonged to someone else.

She was just steeling herself to push him away, when they heard the door being pushed open. Spike drew her back into the rear of the cavern and into a crevice in the wall, pushing her in ahead of him so that his leather clad back was the only thing exposed to the open room. His hands were resting on the wall on either side of her head, and his head was bent down toward hers. She could feel his cool breath on her face and knew if she looked up their mouths would be only centimeters apart.

Spike heard her heart rate skyrocket and wondered what the cause was. He wasn’t getting any sense of fear off her; if anything she was excited. When he smelled her arousal, he almost groaned at the effect it had on him.

So slowly she was barely moving, Buffy brought her head up until she was looking blindly up toward his face. She knew he could probably see her, even though the darkness was complete to her less sensitive eyes. She sensed rather than saw him moving his mouth toward hers and suppressed a whimper when he stopped just short of her lips to whisper, “What are you doin’ to me, Slayer?”

In response, she lifted her chin slightly and touched her lips to his. She could feel his fangs and knew he was still in game face, but she persisted with the kiss anyway, ignoring the small nicks in her lips from his razor sharp canines. She felt a shudder go through him when tiny drops of her blood oozed out onto his questing tongue.

Suddenly his arms were around her and she was being pressed against his body as he deepened the kiss, heedless of the damage his fangs were doing to her lips and tongue.

This was new to Buffy. As violent as their love-making could be, and often was, Spike had never let his demon out when he was with her. It surprised her to find that the reminder of what he really was excited her more than she wanted to admit. While he sucked on her bleeding lips with a groan, she slid her hands under his tee shirt and stroked the smooth skin on his back, taking advantage of his distraction to caress him the way she’d been wanting to.

When she pushed his shirt up and pulled her mouth away to fasten it on one of his hard nipples, he hissed and clutched her arms. She teased him with her tongue and lips, nipping gently on the pebbled tip until he was growling so loud she was afraid the Faryls would hear.

“Like that, don’t you,” she breathed, pulling back from him and putting her hands on his chest.

“You know I do,” he growled, trying to pull her into another kiss.

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “I know you do.”

She pushed him gently away from her and was surprised when he didn’t resist. As they eased out of the crevice, they could hear the snarling Faryls stomping out of the crypt and soon there was only silence overhead.

“I love Dru,” he said angrily, as though she was going to argue with him about it.

“I know you do,” she replied, stroking his face.

“Then what the bloody hell are you doing to me? Has the great poof got you so horny you have to hit on the first convenient vampire?”

She flinched, both at his tone and the words that reminded her that once again, she was taking what she wanted from him without thinking about what he might want.

Spike was able to see the flinch, even in the complete darkness of the room, and started to apologize then got furious at himself for it.

(What is this girl doing to me? I’m leavin’ my dark princess with minions to follow a Slayer around. A Slayer who somehow knows where and how to touch me to make me crave her body.)

His words, and the resulting guilt she felt, were enough to douse the heat between them and she turned away saying, “I think we can leave now. You can get back to your...girl friend, and I can—“

“And you can get back to the all-so-soulful Angelus,” he growled, not sure why that bothered him so much. “As horny as you are, I’m surprised the two of you aren’t shaggin’ like bunnies.”

Buffy cringed at his cruel words, but she was grateful for the reminder of just who this Spike was at this time.

(Note to self – teasing the vampire is fun; getting to close to him before he’s ready – not such a good idea.)

She let her fist fly into his nose and as he grabbed it with a curse, she said coldly, “Trust me, Spike. You really don’t want that to happen.”

She whirled, not even worrying about turning her back on the angry vampire, and leapt upward to grab the edge of the entrance and pull herself up. Without looking back, she marched out of the crypt and headed for home grumbling to herself the whole time.

“I’d almost forgotten what a pig he was before he got the soul. Damn stupid vampire. Would serve him right if I did sleep with Angel. That’d show him what a ‘ho Dru is. I could warn Jenny...we could just avoid Angelus until Willow gets the spell ready and....oh my God! I’m seriously considering sleeping with Angel! What is wrong with me?”

Spike remained in the crypt until he was sure she was gone, his mind whirling. He looked around frantically, desperate for something to throw or break to relief his frustration. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to put his mouth on the Slayer’s neck and not bite her. Instead of killing her so she couldn’t interfere with curing his dark princess, he’d ended up kissing her. Thinking about kissing her reminded him of the blood he’d swallowed from her savaged lips and tongue and he groaned at the memory of its sweet, powerful taste and the effect it had on him.

In spite of the bitter words that followed the kissing, and the subsequent abuse to his nose, he was still sporting the erection he’d had since they started fighting hours ago. With a muffled curse, he unzipped his pants and wrapped his cool hand around the hard shaft and pulled vigorously until he found some small release. He tried loyally to think about his lovely Drusilla, but as friction caused his hand and cock to warm up, all he could picture was the Slayer’s hot little hand touching him and as he came it was the word “Slayer” that hissed through his lips.

He bounded up to the crypt without touching the sides at all and stormed out of the graveyard, desperate for something to kill.





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