| Early Summer The first thing he noticed, after he crawled out of the cave, was the Milky Way. Lying on his back, he gazed at the luminous river meandering across the sky above him. “Downright effulgent,” he murmured to himself. Frowning, he struggled to his feet.“Sweet William... get the bloody hell out my head!” * * * * * October 19th "Buffy." With a shy smile, he spoke her name gently as she barged into his crypt. He felt a surge of happiness for she'd come to him sooner than he'd anticipated. She fixed him with a blank stare; devoid of emotion, no hate or love—just one long, empty look. "You're back." She slid her hand across his cheek and then pulled it back abruptly. “Still a vampire, I see.” “Yeah…still the evil, vicious undead,” he replied, all thoughts of bliss dashed by the look on her face. He blushed. Tilting her head, she watched the blood rise in his cheeks. “Are you blushing?” He looked embarassed. "Vampires don’t blush. Bleeding cheap pig’s blood Willie sold me last night. I’ll kill that wanker!” He scrunched his face into what he thought might be a fierce, evil look. He failed miserably. She just laughed at him. “What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing, nothing…will you leave now? Please?” “You want me to leave?” She sat down on the edge of his armchair. “Yeah, you heard me, you stupid bint. Get out! Or I might just give you a little bite.” He tried to morph into his demon face, flash his fangs at her. Nothing happened, except that his face just turned a deeper shade of red. “Are you sick?” She felt a small pang of concern, but quickly pushed it away. He turned his back to her and growled, “I’ve asked you politely. I’ve asked you rudely. What will it take to get you the hell out of my crypt?” “Where do you get off telling me to leave?” Her voice shook with anger. “So that’s it? No ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘please forgive me? Why did you even come back?” “Look Slayer, you made yourself perfectly clear. I disgust you. You hate me. But I didn’t ask you to come here. I can damn well go where I please. What I do is none of your business anymore. I sussed it out, Slayer. You never loved me.” She looked astonished. "Are you crazy? After what you did?" She frowned. “What are you up to Spike? Some new twisted game to get me into your bed? Playing the poor, misunderstood vampire? I so don’t want to see your pathetic face around here anymore.” “You know what Buffy? You never knew me. But one day you’re gonna wake up and know what it is you really want. And guess what? I’m not interested anymore.” He threw her a hard look. “Got my chip out,” he blurted out the lie, “I’m the big bad again. So you and your little friends better watch out. Don’t love you. Bitch. Get it? Now get the bloody hell out of my sight!” He rose and stumbled toward the door, silently motioning her with a curt nod of his head for her to leave. His mouth twisted with anger, but when he glanced up at her, his eyes held an infinite sadness. She stepped back, scrutinizing him from head to foot, noting how his hand trembled as it clutched the door. “Something’s not right here. Something’s going on. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” Shaking her head, she sauntered toward the crypt door. “Ask me if I care,” he muttered, trying to speak the words as venomously as possible, but they sounded low and weary. “Do you care?” she asked, her voice suddenly gentle. She gazed back at him as she stood in the doorway, her eyes disconcertingly vulnerable. “Not any more, pet. Not any more.” He slammed the door in her face before she could see the tears welling up in his eyes. “I think YOU came back wrong!” she shouted through the closed door. “Bitch always has to have the last bleeding word.” His voice echoed through the empty crypt. “I heard that!” Buffy yelled back at him and then stormed off through the cemetery. He opened the door a crack and watched as she ran away. As she’d always done. As she’d probably always do. Run from him. He was glad now, that he hadn’t revealed to her what had happened to him. What he’d done for her. Just for her, out of love or perhaps just plain anguish. He’d nursed such a wonderful sweet fantasy, these last few months, about how their first meeting would play out. “Give her what she deserves. Bloody hell.” He laughed bitterly to himself, realizing, perhaps, that what she deserved was for him to have the courage to let her go. He flung himself down on his makeshift bed, forcing himself to sleep. Unfortunately for his tender new soul, he proceeded to have a stunningly erotic dream of her –involving handcuffs, some very sexy high heels and a red silk scarf. * * * * * “Why is he back?” Xander asked. He sat on the kitchen counter and watched Buffy as she halfheartedly washed the dishes. “Thought we’d seen the last of fang boy. Just what you need now, Buffy. You want me to get rid of him? Make with the dust?” She paused to consider what life would be like with Spike dusted. Spike gone. Forever. Never have to see his sneering face, hear his taunting, snarky voice again. Never having to feel the humiliation of remembering that she’d let him…She tried to stop the flow of images. Straddling him…him moving deep inside her, moaning her name…his head nestled languidly between her thighs…the way he always wanted to watch her face as she came…again and again…the sexy, tender look on his face, and the longing in his voice when he’d clumsily try to entice her into… “Oh god,” she thought, “What if I never touch him again?” “No...no...” She spoke the words under her breath. She turned to face her friend. “Leave him alone Xander. He hasn’t bothered me. He didn’t try to see me. I went there. Just wanted to see what he was up to. You know – keeping tabs on the enemy.” “Why don’t I believe you?” She didn’t respond, just stood and stared out the kitchen window as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon. “I don’t think I need you to come with me on patrol. Things are pretty quiet out there tonight,” she said, changing the subject. “Sure? ‘Cause all bored here. Could use a little demon smashing action tonight.” “Have you seen Anya lately?” “Not going out of my way to get my entrails rearranged. Why do you ask?” “Will you ever forgive her?” “She made her choice. I could never touch her again.” “Can’t you understand why she did it? Even just a little?” “Never. Not in this lifetime.” “You forgave Willow.” “That was different Buffy. She wasn’t herself. She was in pain.” “And Anya wasn’t in pain?” “You know. Not really wanting to have this conversation. What’s wrong with you?” “I don’t know. Just feel blue.” “It’s Spike. I knew he’d cause trouble. Why don’t you just go stake him…after all he…” “Xander, know what? I’m tired. Think I’ll just go to bed and forget the whole Slayer thing for tonight.” She walked over to the back door, opened it and gestured for him to leave. “Hey Xander, one last thing. I think you better stay away from Spike. He’s chipless.” Next Back to Starlight Home Back to Dark Dreams |
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