Chapter Eight

Buffy waited impatiently through the rest of the day. Now that she’d decided to tell everyone, she was anxious to get it over with. But she wanted to keep her promise to Spike first. She wasn’t sure exactly how much she was going to tell him, but at a minimum she knew she had to tell him where she came from and why she knew him so well.

She dressed carefully before leaving for patrol that night in a pair of tight leather pants and a low cut blouse. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and threw a denim jacket over the blouse. She studied her make up critically and added more strawberry flavored gloss before smiling in satisfaction and turning to leave.

She strolled through the cemeteries for over an hour before she felt the tingle that went all the way through her right to her womb. She stopped and sat on a tombstone, waiting for him to make himself known. When she continued to feel him without hearing or seeing him, she huffed impatiently and stood up.

“I thought you wanted to get some answers,” she said loudly. “I have other people to talk to tonight. I can’t wait around here for you to stop playing stalker-guy.”

“I wasn’t stalkin’,” he said coming out of the shadows. “If I was stalkin’ you, you’d have never known I was there.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “I can FEEL you, you big dope. I know when you’re near. You and Angel. I always know when one of you is around. Even if you are hiding.”

“Wasn’t stalkin’” he stubbornly insisted, with a small pout.

“Fine, you weren’t stalking. What were you doing then?”

He mumbled something that she didn’t catch and she walked closer to him, demanding, “What? You were doing what?”

“I was just watchin’ you. Completely different thing, Slayer.”

“Why were you watching me?”

“You’re pretty,” he mumbled again as he took out a cigarette and tried to appear casual. He had no idea why he’d said such a poncy thing, but when he saw the look on her face he was glad he had. She moved even closer to him and looked up at his face.

“You think I’m pretty?” she asked softly.

(Think you’re bleedin’ gorgeous, Slayer. Could get lost in your eyes.)

Aloud, he said, “Well, for a slayer, you are. ‘S not like you lot are known for your good looks, you know. Most slayers are all about the mission and sod all else. At least you dress like a girl.” He ran appreciative eye over her leather covered legs and ass and leered at her.

“Oh,” she moved away from him again, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

(I will NOT apologize to the Slayer. I don’t care if her feelin’s are hurt. I’m s’posed to be hurtin’ her. That’s my job. Slayer of Slayers, that’s me.)

Buffy started walking slowly, swinging her stake at her side and the vampire fell into step with her eyeing the stake carefully.

“So, Slayer, you gonna tell me what this...whatever it is...between us is? What the hell is goin’ on and why you know me so well?”

Buffy gestured to a bench and sat down, looking up at him expectantly. When he continued to stand there staring at her she said wryly, “You might want to be sitting down for this, Spike,” patting the bench beside her.

When he still didn’t sit down she flushed and folded her hands under her armpits.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” she promised, not looking at him.

Wondering why that promise didn’t make him as happy as he expected it to, he grudgingly sat down at the end away from her and leaned back.

“Well?” he demanded, pulling angrily on his cigarette. “Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Buffy took a deep breath, and still not looking at him, she began.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on. All I really know is that I...I’m not the Buffy Summers that has been living in this – time or reality – for the past sixteen years. I’ve been living a different life somewhere else. Somewhere in which a lot of time has passed since I was in high school. I’m... the me that’s inside... 23 years old. I’ve been a Slayer for well over seven years.”

He didn’t respond, just took another drag on his cigarette and waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, he said mildly, “That’s right old for a Slayer, pet. ‘Splains a lot about why I wasn’t able to kill you, I guess. But it doesn’t explain why you know so much about me. It’s not like I’m plannin’ to stay here any longer than it takes me to get Dru well.”

“Well, in my timeline or realty – we really don’t know which it is yet – you don’t have a lot of choice. You can’t leave. And Dru doesn’t want to.”

“And she gets her way because...?” His tone sounded slightly dangerous and she took a peek at him to try to read his face.

“Because I put you in a wheelchair for four months – and Angel loses his soul.”

She tensed and tightened her grip on her stake as he vamped out and snarled.

“Angelus comes back? Who’s responsible for that little bit of insanity?”

The fact that he was more bothered about Angelus’ reappearance than he was about being crippled told all there was to know about the relationship between the two vampires. Spike already hated Angelus before he came back and took Dru away from him.

“Uh, me?”

He flicked his cigarette away and stood up again to glare at her.

“So, you cripple me AND you bring back that miserable bastard? Is there any reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now? Save us both a lot of trouble?”

“You shouldn’t because you can’t.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, bitch,” he snarled, moving closer to her. “You might have managed to make my cock sit up and take notice a couple of times, but there’s been nothing between us to keep me from notchin’ up my third Slayer. I can kill you as easily as I could a complete stranger.”

“No, Spike, you can’t,” she said calmly. The fact that she was so confident and unafraid was the only thing that kept him from leaping on her, teeth bared and claws out. “Not because of what we’ve done in this time, but because of how well I know you. I’ve fought you dozens of times in my life. Probably a lot more than that if you count the times you helped me train by sparring with me. This body isn’t quite as strong as the one I’m used to, but it still responds with all the moves I ask it to make. And my moves, Spike? All new to you. Yours? As familiar to me as the palm of my hand.”

She waited to see how his ego would take her flat statement that she could take him whenever she wanted. She did her best to maintain her calm demeanor, but centered herself and stayed ready just in case he didn’t take it well. But then he surprised her by laughing and letting his human face come back.

“So, the other night, you were jus’ playin’ with me?”

“Well, sorta.” She gave him a shy smile. “But I wouldn’t have been able to do that if you hadn’t—“

“Taught you all you know, huh?” he said with a cocky grin.

Buffy rolled her eyes and huffed, “As IF!” but she smiled as she said it.

“Ok, Slayer,” he said, suddenly growing more serious. “That explains why you’re such a brilliant fighter, but it doesn’t explain why you know so much about my other...talents.”

“Ego, much?” she rolled her eyes again. “I don’t remember saying you had talents.”

“Well, there’s gotta be some reason you can’t keep your hands off my tight little body.” He curled his tongue behind his teeth and leaned toward her. “ I’m guessin’ there’s a good reason why you know things about turnin’ me on that even Dru doesn’t know. An’ I doubt you’ve been readin’ my diary.”

“You have a diary?” Buffy looked suddenly intrigued and he rolled his shoulders in irritation.

“It was just a figure of speech, Slayer.”

He was suddenly right in front of her, his cerulean eyes boring into hers.

“Why do you know those things about me, Slayer? Why can my mortal enemy make me hard just by being close enough for me to smell her?”

When Buffy leaned in toward him unconsciously, he added as he bent toward the warm lips just below his mouth, “And why does she want to do those things to one of the evil things she was born to kill? Why, Slayer? Why do you want me?”

Their lips met and once again, the world disappeared for both of them as they lost themselves in the taste and feel of each other. Buffy felt his arms tentatively go around her waist and she melted against him allowing him to support her body as she clung to his neck. She felt his desire for her pressing into her stomach and she moaned slightly when he pulled her even closer.

“Bloody hell, luv. Want you so bad...what are you doin’ to me?” he groaned into her ear as he moved his mouth down her neck, leaving wet kisses as he did. When he ran his tongue lightly across her collarbone before dipping down to kiss along the tops of her breasts, she gasped and threw her head back baring her neck.

Without thinking, he fastened his blunt teeth on her exposed throat and sucked on the pounding pulse there. He fought down the urge to bring his demon out and sink his fangs into the tender skin he had pulled into his mouth. Suddenly he felt her stiffen and he froze wondering if he was going to get her stake though his back, but she pulled away from him with a whimper and whirled to face an approaching group of vamps.

Cursing himself for not hearing the approach of his minions and letting them catch him with the Slayer, he snarled and stepped in front of her. With an indignant snort, she shoved him out of the way and fell into a fighting stance.

The minions stopped their advance, confused that their master, who had appeared to be biting the girl, was now standing beside a very much alive Slayer and snarling at them.

“What d’you gits want?” he growled.

“We...Drusilla is calling for you and we came to find...why isn’t she dead?” The tall, skinny vamp who spoke pointed toward Buffy. “Do you need help?”

While Buffy tried to hide her giggle, Spike roared at them, “No, I don’t need any fuckin’ help! Get the hell out of here, you morons. Go back and take care of Dru.”


“She wants you to come back now,” the minion repeated stubbornly. “She said to bring you back with us.”

“I really don’t think you want to try to do that, mate,” Spike growled coldly.

“Maybe we do.” The vamp who spoke next was a large, muscular minion who had expected to take over as master until Spike arrived. He moved slowly toward the older vampire, gesturing at the others to surround Spike and Buffy.

“What d’you say, pet? Fancy a spot of violence before we finish our talk?”

“It’s what we do best,” Buffy answered cheerily, twirling her stake.

“Right then.” Without any further discussion, they sprang into action, punching and kicking their way out of the surrounding vamps and turning to dust two of them before they could react. While Buffy wielded her stake to great effect, with a minimal amount of wasted energy, Spike was reveling in the fight itself. He took out all the pent up frustration Buffy was creating in him on the faces and bodies of the vamps in front of him.

When Buffy had dusted all but the one Spike was still fighting, she sat back down on the bench to watch him gradually destroy the large vamp that had challenged him. The blond vampire dropped back into his human features as though to taunt his opponent with how easily he was winning their fight. With a final kick to the bigger vamp’s head, he held out his hand and Buffy tossed him her stake, which he drove through the chest in front of him.

As the dust settled around them, he walked back over to the Slayer and with no hesitation he handed her the stake and sat back down.

“We fight well together,” he remarked, pulling out another cigarette.

“Always have,” she agreed.

Neither one mentioned what they were doing when the vampires appeared and they sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Spike broke the silence eventually by asking quietly, “So, pet, you gonna answer my question?”

“There was a question?”

He tilted his head and smiled at her.

“You dodgin’ it, pet? Or just hopin’ I’ll be so gobsmacked by the kissin’ I’ll forget what we were talkin’ about?”

“Little bit of both, probably,” she admitted honestly. “Is it working?”

He sighed and let his head loll against the back of the bench.

“No, luv, it’s not workin’. My question still stands. What are we to each other in your world?”

“It’s...it’s complicated.”

“Oh no you don’t, Slayer. Don’t give me that ‘complicated’ shit again.”

He turned to look at her and found she was looking at him with damp eyes. He felt his stomach clench at what he saw there.

“Don’t,” he said flatly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should go. I have to tell my friends and...and Angel.”

She stood up and turned away to leave without answering his question. She was fairly certain that as perceptive as Spike could be, he would figure it out. She had already taken several steps when his voice stopped her.

“I love Dru.”

“I know you do,” she said softly.

“Did I love her in your world?”

“For a while longer, you did,” she answered him honestly.

“I’d never stop lovin’ her. Not for you, not for anybody. She’s my savior, my reason for existence...I don’t believe you. I don’t leave the people I love.”

Buffy came back to stand in front of where he had remained seated on the bench.

“I know you don’t,” she said softly, looking into his eyes earnestly. “It’s one the things I lo- like most about you.”

“I’m not the Spike you know, Slayer. I don’t love you.”

“You want me,” she replied, eyeing the still visible bulge in his jeans.

“Can’t deny it. I do. But doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean I love you.”

“It’s a start.” She stroked the side of his face gently and gave him a sad smile, repeating, “It’s a start.”

When he reached for her to pull her onto his lap, she backed away reluctantly, shaking her head.

“I really do need to get back to the school. I’m sure they’re all waiting for me and Giles is getting impatient.”

“This when you let all your little buddies in on things?”

“Uh huh. I’m at least going to tell them about the real me. I haven’t decided how much to say about what I know is going to happen, ‘cause if I can stop it, then they never need to know...”

“You gonna tell the great poof about losin’ his soul?” He tried to sound casual, but she could hear the worry in his voice.

“Probably. He needs to know that it could happen. And...and how to avoid it.” She looked away from his perceptive eyes and flushed.

“Believe you said it was your fault, pet. Want to let a curious vamp in on the secret?”

“No,” she said flatly. “All you need to know is that it isn’t going to happen this time. For more than one reason,” she added quietly.

He stood up fluidly, invading her space as he did so. He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, enjoying the warmth of their soft touch. He pushed the disloyal comparison to Dru’s cold mouth away, even as he allowed her to move her lips around on his. She gently touched his lower lip with her tongue, then pulled it into her mouth and sucked on it gently before releasing it and running her tongue over his sensitive teeth and gums.

He shivered at her touch, marveling again at how this woman knew just where and how to touch him. He deepened the kiss, pulling her against his body and reveling in the warmth pressing against him. When Buffy reluctantly broke off the kiss and pushed gently against his chest, he released his hold on her, but maintained contact with her mouth as long as he could.

He pressed his forehead to hers and with his eyes shut said, “I’d know you weren’t sixteen just from the way you kiss, luv. Whoever taught you sure as hell knew what he was doin’”

She lifted her head and looked at him with her eyebrows raised in amusement.

It took a couple of seconds and then he laughed softly and shrugged. “Oh. Well. Good on me, then.”

Buffy laughed softly in agreement and moved away from him.

“I really do have to go, Spike.”

“Alright, pet. Aside from gettin’ put in a wheel chair, anythin’ else I need to know about my life for next few months?”

She looked at him steadily, then shrugged and said quickly, “Forget the Order of Taraka. Forget about the Judge – he’s not quite as weapon-proof as he’d like to think. And...and Dru wouldn’t be quite as unhappy as you would if Angelus came back.”

She saw his face darken and realized he knew exactly what she meant by that.

“Guess we’ll just have to make sure the wanker stays gone, then, won’t we, pet?” he replied tightly.

“Be my first choice,” she said softly. “Even if it does mean you...”

“Even if it means I what?”

“Nothing.”

He looked at her with curiosity, but didn’t pursue it.

“Guess you’d better get to your meetin’, then, Slayer. Let your little friends know you’re not a bloody teenager anymore.”

“Good night, Spike,” she said turning away.

“Take care, Slayer,” he answered softly as he watched her walk away, golden hair bouncing in the light from the street lamps.





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