The smell of cigarette smoke hit her as soon as she was out the door. Seeing no one, she walked out onto the sidewalk and decided she would head for the children’s park she had seen a few streets away.
She walked with intent, willfully blocking out everything she had learned only a few hours ago. All she could think of was Clark intertwined with this woman she’d just met and already knew she couldn’t compete with. She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to kick something or start sobbing.
Things had been going so well for her back in Metropolis; she had been useful and sure of herself and respected. She loved being in the thick of things and felt so comfortable in her vibrant hometown and the Planet offices.
She’d never felt like a small town girl but both Clark and Pete had made her move to Smallville easier. Pete had been a very good friend, but it was the prospect of seeing Clark that had gotten her up every morning. It was also because of Clark that she had that constant pain in her heart.
She couldn’t even remember a time when she hadn’t loved Clark; it was a part of her, a fact of life. Although she tried to tell herself that it was no big deal and that she could handle it, she knew it was untrue. Every time she got her hopes up about them she was reminded that Clark didn’t want or trust her.
She was feeling like a complete asshole for visiting. She was a like a mental patient banging her head against a wall and wondering why she always ended up with the same result- a massive headache. Or heartache, as the case may be.
“And where exactly are you going?” A man asked, stepping up beside her.
She’d seen him earlier.
“None of your business,” she told him firmly, walking on past. She stopped dead in her tracks when she remembered what had transpired in the cemetery. Clark’s friend had wanted to kill him, by driving a stake through his heart. He was a vampire, if such things really existed, and she was right next to him.
“Does Buffy know you’re out here?” He asked her less forcefully, taking a step back.
“Does she know you are?”
“Maybe.”
“Leave me alone,” she reiterated, defiantly continuing her walk.
“You don’t know what you’re asking, ducks.”
“I just want to be alone.”
“I can’t just let you be. If Buffy found out I’d let you leave…”
“Buffy. What is it with this woman that makes her the center of everything around here?”
“She’s… well, she’s…”
“Sleeping with Clark.”
“Is she now?” He asked, his whole body slumping forward and his gaze shifting down.
“I just caught them!”
“And they let you run out of the house when it’s still pitch dark?”
“No, I walked by the door, they didn’t wake up.”
“Oh. OH! They were actually sleeping.”
“He was in his underwear!”
“Really?” He whispered, looking almost embarrassed.
“And a t-shirt.”
“Really?” He asked, perking up some.
“Is she... was she your girlfriend?” She walked on, keeping the pace brisk so as to keep distracted. Could vampires even have girlfriends?
“No, nothing like that.”
Spike was what they called him, she remembered. Why was he still following her? “I heard some of what you were saying in the cemetery, I didn’t understand everything. It looked pretty intense.”
“I didn’t see you there.”
“You were sort of fixated on her.”
“So, who’s this Clark? Is he your boyfriend?”
“No.” She took a few steps back and started looking around uneasily, “did I hear Buffy say you tried to rape her?”
“Oh, hey look, it’s not like that.”
“You didn’t try to rape her?”
“I assure you I’m not dangerous. And she’s stronger than me!”
“I think I’d better continue my walk alone,” she asked, forcing the panic back down her throat.
“I can’t let you do that. Buffy-“
“Buffy can go jump in the lake!”
“Watch that language, little girl,” he said sarcastically.
“Fuck you.”
“Feel better?”
“Sort of.”
“So you’re really a vampire?”
“Yes.”
Chloe didn’t know where to start. She had so many questions, she forgot about running.
“You drink blood.”
“Yes.”
“From people?”
“It’s been ages. So can I walk you back now … ?”
“Chloe,” she supplied, “my name is Chloe Sullivan.”
“So, can I walk you back now, Chloe?”
“I don’t know. What’s wrong, why do you keep looking around?”
“Something’s off.”
“What? Are you afraid of the sun coming up?”
“No, I’ve got about 74 minutes before that happens.”
“Impressive. So what is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, is your skin cold, or room temperature?”
“Clark?”
“M-huh.”
“Are you awake?”
“You’ve still got 25 minutes before it’s 4, Buffy.”
“That’s great. Look, I’m going to have to lie on top of you if you want me to sleep because it’s hard to do with half my body dangling.”
“What?”
“You’re floating.”
Clark wasn’t surprised, he felt so good when he had fallen asleep with her had felt like he was floating already. He slowly opened his eyes. Buffy was smiling at him. “See.”
“Wow, I usually crash right away.”
“Well, not tonight.”
“This is really nice.”
“It’s a nifty trick, but if you don’t mind I think I should go and have breakfast.”
Clark and Buffy plummeted down, the legs of the bed breaking under the force.
They lay there, dazed. Clark realized he had broken a third major object in her house. “I’m so sorry.” This was getting ridiculous.
Pete, who had dozed off, woke up with the noise and realized Chloe hadn’t come back to bed. He checked the time and shrugged the covers off.
“Did I do something wrong?” Clark asked Buffy. She was acting sort of uncomfortable, fumbling with the bed and fiddling with the contents of her workbag. She had even stopped looking at him in the face.
“Not a thing,” she said, continuing to avoid his gaze. “Besides the fact that our lives are ridiculously complicated, we live in different states and you’re sixteen? You’re just way too tall and good-looking and you’re actually decent... I really can’t deal with wanting you right now,” she mumbled. He obviously heard the whole diatribe loud and clear.
“Didn’t you just tell me that Angel was 250 when you were 16?”
“Couldn’t you turn that ear off?” She pleaded.
“Sorry.”
“And Angel was two hundred and forty two, I think. Actually I’m not too clear on that.”
“He was so old he couldn’t remember his age?”
“Hey! Anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea that we get too close.”
“You’re right, everyone I love gets hurt anyway, right?”
“Duck!” Spike shouted, pushing the shocked girl to the ground. She narrowly avoided a knife but had the wind knocked out of her. When she looked up, a neck had been snapped and the body was falling at her feet. The sick thud it made as the head hit the pavement made her turn away to throw up.
When her body lurched forward to get rid of her dinner she narrowly avoided a second slashing. She choked as she dragged herself into nearby bushes.
Spike was getting frustrated; the freaks seemed to have a one-track mind. He was fighting the two remaining humanoids but they weren’t fighting him, they were trying to get passed him. This was not the type of fight he’d ever enjoyed. It’s like they were robots: no hearts, no passion, no guts. He wasn’t able to engage them; he knew that he could be bouncing around in a clown costume and it wouldn’t change anything to them. He wasn’t whom they were there for. So what was it with the girl? Did they need a virgin for something?
Spike twisted around, breaking an arm and throwing the thing onto the pavement, judo-style. It only took a split second for the other to stab him in the back and plow past him, making a run for the girl.
Chloe had seen what had transpired and started to run but the last of the black robes was catching her easily.
Spike jerked up, never mind the spurting blood, ran and jumped onto his foe, buying Chloe a bit more time.
“Hey Clark, you can’t hurt me. That’s not what I meant.”
“I could hurt you, Buffy, we both know that.”
Buffy waved him off that subject. There was no reason for him to start beating himself up this early, especially if he was going to live as long as she suspected he would. “I like you a lot but I went too far. I need someone to take me away from my life, to make me feel normal and understood and just now I felt like you did that. I’m your friend, I don’t want to lose that because I’m weak right now. ”
Their conversation was interrupted by a passing Pete. The boy smirked while taking in the appearance of the bed, but stopped short of wagging his eyebrows at Clark. He leaned into the door frame.
“Have you seen Chloe?”
“No, we dozed off; what happened, is she not in your room?”
“No. She went to the bathroom awhile ago and I thought she'd be more comfortable if I was sleeping when she got back. We had a talk... It didn't go very well."
She got to the Summers residence and stopped dead in her tracks. Three more of those things were waiting for her nonchalantly by the tree. Her terrified scream rang out.
Before Buffy could even say, “she’s outside,” Clark was already gone and standing in front of Chloe.
“Stay back,” he shouted. To his surprise, they did. “What do you want?” He tried, but got no answer.
“Clark, what’s going on?” Buffy asked, stepping out onto her porch.
“They were attacking Chloe,” he replied, pointing to her attackers, except that they had vanished.
“They were right there,” Chloe confirmed.
“What’s that?” Pete chimed in from the doorway, pointing to something dragging itself across the street.
“Spike,” Buffy said.
“He helped me,” Chloe said.
Chloe’s legs gave out and Clark picked her up, walking her back to the house. Pete kept his distance.
Buffy looked at the time and went to sit by Spike who had once again lit up.
“So what happened?”
“Got stabbed. Bleeding a lot. Broke my leg.”
“Ew, I can see that. What happened?”
“X for eyes. Black robes. Seemed to be fixated on the girl.”
“So, you think I should be grateful you’re stalking me?”
“You really sleeping with Captain America over there?”
“He’s nice.”
“Right,” he said, inhaling deeply.
“Nothing happened ok?” She told him. When he smiled at her knowingly, she stood up and through her hands up. “Oh gross Spike, did you smell me?”
“Well, I’d better get going, I’ll need time to drag myself to my crypt.”
She watched him attempt to move for awhile. He gave up and finished his cigarrette, sighing as he looked up to the night sky.
Buffy made a decision. “Stop being so dramatic. Get into the basement, we’ll leave at sunset.”
Spike paused and looked down, the knife had pierced all the way through and his shirt and jeans were soaked in blood. He had no real choice but to accept, if he wanted to survive. “Thanks.”
A breeze blew back her hair and she caught a whiff of the vampire. “Speaking of smelling, you need a shower.”
“I don’t…” He whispered.
For some reason she felt certain he meant he didn’t deserve a shower. She was finding Spike more and more unsettling.
“Look, I’m the one who’ll be riding to L.A. with you tonight; I want my ride to be gag free, if you don’t mind.”
Spike tried to get up but failed, he hadn’t fed since he’d left Los Angeles 2 days earlier and before that it had been some goat blood he had gotten off an African healer- in Africa.
“I’m so not carrying you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Buffy bent down and offered her shoulder for support. They walked slowly to the house where she invited him in.