The Wages of Hate--Part 14 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

PART A

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Marc Anthony, "Contra La Corriente" (Against the Current) and are used without permission.

-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "The Gift," Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil. Therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person left from her past. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R. (Language and Violence)

-Spoilers: I will mention everything that has happened through "The Gift".

-Distribution: The only people that have permission to post these series are those who already archive my fic and have asked me for permission. If you want to post it please ask me. I'll be happy to let you. I just want to know where my fic goes.

-Author's Note: I adore Feedback, so please let me know what you think of the story so far! bih80reviews@yahoo.com

-Special Thanks: Nmissi and Wendy for BETA reading this and their awesome feedback, Karla for listening to me rant, and One Good Day group--may you be blessed with many chocolate covered naked Spikes! Thanks for all the reviews!

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(Spike's Private Gym)

To begin to question the burning pain in her chest was impossible. Burning pain like this had happened only once in her life--with Angel and Faith.

And look were it got them. They had ended up married!

No, she wasn't going to question it,...but why her? Why that slut? A night ago he had been confessing true love, and the next day he was sprawled out on the dirty floor crushing the red head's lips.

Buffy shuddered and removed her top cardigan leaving only her tank top and her jeans. She found the punching bag and started banging on it without any protection for her fist.

**Bang**

Asshole

**Bang**

Pervert

**Bang**

Pig

**Bang**

Liar

**Bang**

Jerk

She did not know when her tears had started but they were flowing along with her punches. They became sobs and evolved to screams as she punched harder and harder. With every pain that shot up her hand she felt madder. Mad at him, at Loret, at the entire situation.

This was not her plan--this was never her plan. Things had just gotten too mucked up and too confusing. Feelings were jumbled together, and emotions that were not supposed to be there were lurking in the shadows of her soul.

It got her even madder, and she gave the bag one last punch that ripped it from the ceiling.

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No hay día que pase que yo no me acuerde de ti (There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of you)

No hay labios que bese que no me sepan a ti (There are no lips that I have kissed that don’t remind me of you)

Tu te quedaste para siempre aquí en mi pensamiento (You ‘ve stayed forever in my thoughts)

Tu me dominas tienes el control de mis sentimientos (You dominate me, and have control of my feelings)

Spike had decided to run down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He ran until he thought he might trip. Seeing his bike only a feet away, he skipped the helmet and crashed out through the front panel of the garage.

Time was nothing to this creature of the night who had cheated time and space. Living hundreds of years and walking in broad daylight. What maybe him so special? He was soulless--condemned to eternal life, not being able to have what he always wanted.

He rode through through the dark town, empty of human life, no one hiding in dark corners of deserted buildings. He rode until his palms hurt from crushing the handlebars of the Dukati. He hated her, he hated Loret, he hated everyone. His hate was building inside of him until the heat in his chest become almost, unbearable. He pulled up into a dark alley and started panting and clutching his chest as if he couldn't breathe.

"You don't breathe, you sod! Get a hold of yourself!" He muttered to himself.

He got off his bike and leaned against the dirty alley wall.

Aunque estes lejos de nada me sirve (And even though you’re not here it’s no use)

Porque yo te quiero más que ayer, más que ayer. (Because I love you more than yesterday, more than yesterday)

He slid down and for the first time he realized that he had tear tracks down his face. One hand on his heaving chest and the other tentatively touching his wet face. He was crying.

"I'm crying," he told himself. "Bloody 'ell."

Then the down pour came. "She's alive," he said in a low voice. "She's really alive," he repeated.

The reality of the situation crashed down on him and he let out a dry sob. He had only cried once for her--the day she died. Never again had he cried, not even when Dawn died.

Tears were foreigners to him. He let out a threatening sob, then another, then another until he was crying, clutching his knees to his chest, weeping like a child who lost everything.

Yo trato, trato, trato pero no te olvido (I try and try and try but I can’t forget you)

Yo lucho, lucho, lucho y no lo consigo (I fight, I fight I fight but I cannot find it)

Lo pongo todo de mi parte y no es suficiente (I put my all yet it’s never enough)

Es como seguir nadando contra la corriente. (It’s like swimming against a current, against a current)

He had not felt this awful in a long time. The tears wouldn't stop. He clutched his chest until he thought he might explode. Rain started to fall, light and cold upon his heaven-turned face. "Why?" he cried to the heavens.

"Why?" he said louder.

No answer but the sky loudly weeping with him.

"Why her?" he cried out until his throat hurt.

He stood up and stretched out his arms and looked at the powers that watched him silently.

"For fifty years I have saved the race you love and this is my reward?!!" he cried. "Why? Why her? Why me?" he hollowed.

He coughed back a sob. "Fuck you!!, Fuck you and your bleeding prophecies, fuck you and your apocalypses, fuck you and your eternity,...FUCK YOU!!!," he cried out.

He landed harshly on his knees, his wet hair decorating his forehead. He hunched his shoulders and balled his fist in anger.

Passion within him, anger and frustration.

It was a flash back.

That night.

That dreadful night. The night he died.

He fell, an endless fall, Dawn's face tattooed on his memories.

With a crash and too many broken bones he landed.

When he came to consciousness he saw her.

It couldn't be her, he kept telling himself, never her.

But there she lay. His golden beauty.

Broken.

Beaten.

Dead.

He cried that night. He cried like he had never cried. As if existence didn't have a purpose.

He hated himself. He hated himself with pure intolerable rage.

He opened his eyes from his memories and he saw her again before him in the dark alley by this bike. Her body.

Broken.

Beaten.

Dead.

"BUFFY!!!" He cried out long, hard, and agonized.

No hay noche que llegue que yo no te sienta aquí (There isn’t a night that goes by that I don’t feel you with me)

Tu te quedaste para siempre aquí en mi pensamiento (You stayed forever with me in my memories)

Tu me dominas tienes el control de mis sentimientos (You dominate me and have control of my feelings)

Y aunque estes lejos de nada me sirve (And even thought you’re far away it’s no use)

Porque yo te quiero más que ayer, más que ayer. (Because I love you more than yesterday, more than yesterday)

The night heard his cry and sent lightning in condolences. Lightening and thunder.

Brightly lit rays that filled the sky.

He was lying on his stomach when he realized he had finished weeping. He was dirty and smelly but he didn't care. She was alive and he had hurt her. He had hurt in so many ways since she had come back--with his indifference and his denial.

He was a fool and he knew it. Sammy was right when said what he said.

This was his second chance. This was his time to make it right.

Without further thought he jumped on his bike and sped into the night.

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"Where the hell have you been? And where's Spike?" Mario asked Loret as she entered the game room. They had set up all the equipment and were sitting around having lunch.

"Spike said to set up, which I see you've already done. He'll be back after dinner." Loret said as she casually grabbed her bag from the table and started to walk out.

"Where 're you goin'?" Dalton asked the woman.

She shrugged. "Gonna work out some of the tension."

They watched her leave with amusement.

"Humm. I do believe someone's jealous." Zeta said looking at the closed door.

"Really? What else do you see?" Mario asked leaning forward.

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Loret watched the blonde hit the punching bag so hard that it fell on the floor.

She smiled.

"Nice work, darling," she said walking casually to Buffy.

Buffy was perplexed and turned to the approaching woman.

She stared at her hard and long with hatred seeping from her eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked icily.

Loret shrugged.

"Wanted to see if you wanted to...work things out?" Loret asked eyeing her up and down.

Buffy answered her by glaring at her and folding her arms across her chest.

"Very well then. I say we really work things out," she sneered.

Buffy smirked.

"My pleasure," she replied.

Loret threw her bag down and peeled off her leather coat, leaving her in tight leather pants and a black tank top.

Both glared at each other and without warning Loret lashed out and punched Buffy right on the nose. The slayer flew back, smacking into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Loret approached the stunned slayer. "You mess with the big girls, you're gonna get hurt."

She picked up Buffy by the hair and slammed her knee into her face.

"Less is more, darling," she sneered.

The slayer fell to the floor with a loud thud and whimpered at the force of the blow.

Buffy couldn't believe the force of the woman. It was like fighting Glory all over again.

"Really? Should have thought about that before you put on make-up," Buffy murmured but Loret heard her very clearly.

She felt Loret lifting her by her belt and pulling her up. The red head grabbed Buffy face and brought it to hers. "I don't play nice, Slayer. I play dirty and rough. Can you handle it, sweetie?" she asked sarcastically.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and spit on her face.

Loret picked her up again and back-slapped her across the room.

The blonde landed flat on her back, coughing. She groggily sat up to find an impatient Loret staring down at her.

"You interrupted my moment. Tsk, tsk, big mistake, little girl." She kicked her on the gut.

Buffy doubled over panting. She felt the tangy taste of blood in her mouth and spit it out onto the mat.

She felt Loret grabbing a handful of hair. The slayer kicked in and reacted before the player could recuperate.

She flipped to her back and lashed out, kicking Loret on the gut, sending her flying across the room.

She stood up and watched the red head get up clutching her stomach.

"What is it with you women here? You insist on fighting for Spike." she walked up to her and punched her before she could recouperate. "

"'He's mine'. 'Don't touch him'. Give me a break!!!" she mimicked punched her again.

Loret stared at the slayer incredulously.

"Well let me tell you something, bitch," Buffy said narrowing her gaze. "And get it right this time, because I will not repeat it again."

She kicked Loret on her back and the red head went down on all fours.

Buffy picked up a bunch of red hair and brought her head up to attention. "Spike is his own man. If he doesn't love you now, he never will. You Loret, he will never love. So fuck him all you want, cause that's all you'll ever get from him."

She let go of the limp head and stepped away.

Buffy was panting and hurting all over. The other woman had done a good job.

Loret started laughing. A low insane laugh that chilled Buffy to the bone.

Buffy let her laugh and watched with a careful look as the player didn't move. She just stayed on the mat laughing.

After several minutes of insane laugher she turned her head and looked at Buffy. "I know," she gulped and smiled at the younger girl. "I know he doesn't love me. I know who he loves and that was never a danger to me until she came back and fucked things up," she laughed again.

Buffy backed up until she felt a table behind her and sat down exhausted.

Loret picked herself back up from the floor. She stood on shaky legs.

They stared at each other for a long time, a competition of wits.

"Why do you care, I thought you didn't love him. I thought he meant shit to you," Loret asked as she picked up her bag from the floor.

Buffy didn't answer but continued to stare down at the older woman.

"Obviously you have your history all wrong," Buffy replied cooly.

"Then what does he mean?" Loret probed, crossing her arms.

Buffy sighed and looked wearily at the woman.

"Listen, I am too tired to think about this. Besides, I wouldn't discuss things like this with anyone, least of all you," Buffy said.

Loret smiled. "Good, cause...."

She stopped as Spike entered the room.

He looked wet and tired and Buffy could tell he had been crying.

She instantly jumped off the table and started to walk towards him.

"What happened?" both Buffy and Spike asked at the same time.

"It's raining outside." he responded and looked over the two bruised and bloody women. "Loret," he started patiently, "What the hell is your problem?"

Loret smiled and pulled her coat on, but before she could answer the speaker of the room came on.

"We have a code 4, Charley approaching, closing in and fast," Mario said and turned off.

Both Spike and Loret sprang to action leaving Buffy confused. They bolted out of the room and the slayer ran after them.

"What's going on, what's code 4, and who's Charley?" she asked running up the stairs behind them.

"We've been spotted," Spike cried over his shoulder.

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None of the players looked up as the three burst into the room.

They were all busy with their with their individual assignments.

"Where are they?" Spike asked over Lucy's shoulder as the radar in front of her blinked, green dots glowing in different places.

"I have five Charley coming up the east side and four coming up the south side," She said reading the screen and typing away furiously.

"Troopers or Horsemen?" Mario asked hoisting up a case of guns, opening it and starting to assemble them.

Spike looked at Zeta, who closed her eyes and concentrated. "Troopers,....the horsemen are waiting two blocks away," she said and opened her eyes.

"Fuck," Spike cursed under his breath and went to the table along with the other players who were grabbing weapons and utility belts.

"What the hell are these codes you guys use? I mean, in my time you said vampire, I said stake, you said demon, I said sword, you said human, I said protect," She said looking over the the bullets and grenades being tossed around.

"Get used to disappointment," Spike said shoving a wood-handled shot gun to her.

She glared at it.

"Humans?" she asked looking at him.

"Don't know," Dalton replied as he buckled the belt around him.

"You don't know," Buffy repeated incredulously.

"Troll," Spike said and the old man knew exactly what to do.

He brought out a pouch of spices and sprinkled it before the players. He said several words in druid tongue and clapped his hands.

"Done," he said.

The moving about started again.

"Listen up people. We have nine on the radar. That means we go out ready to fight ninety. Loret and Mario you get the south side, Me and Buffy will take the east side, Dalton manage the game room, keep Zeta and Troll safe, Lucy do your magic, pet." They moved to action and Buffy followed a very well armed Spike out the back door.

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Lucy slid her chair into place in front of her computer and adjusted her ear piece.

"Red leader, do you copy?" she waited.

Loret's voice came clear into the computer voice system. "Copy, gold leader, we are descending section 52, two troopers up ahead."

"Over and out," Lucy responded and switched channels. "Black leader, do you copy?"

Spike's muffled voice came into the intercom. "Copy gold leader, we are in hall 32, approaching 3 troopers and closing."

"You have one trooper at six o'clock. Watch your back."

There was a commotion going on. "Got it, thanks, pet."

"Over and out," she responded and turned to face Zeta.

"How many more are we expecting?" Lucy asked her partner.

Zeta closed her eyes and concentrated, her senses became one with her surroundings.

"The Horseman is sending ten more as we speak," she said when she opened her eyes.

Lucy turned rapidly on her seat. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath.

"Troll--barrier," She said as she began typing furiously on her computer.

The old man nodded and began saying words in Latin.

Zeta felt a rush go through her and snapped her head to attention.

"Someone's coming."

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She looked at him and he understood.

Both moved like predators as they split and rounded the column in the middle of the dark room.

Without warning to the oppressors, one bullet had hit the trooper's stomach and a powerful kick snapped his neck.

They watched the body fall limp.

"That was easy." Mario commented to his partner.

The red head nodded and looked around the empty room. "Too easy."

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"Why can't we just have a good old fashioned fight--you know, like the ones with the stakes?" she pleaded with him as she clutched his arm in the dark hallway.

He ignored her plea and continued. "Cause I can hear heartbeats."

"Heartbeats? As in humans?" she stopped in her tracks.

"Bloody 'ell, woman! Will you let go of your damn morals!" he hissed at her. "These humans are trying to kill you, what do you do? Kill 'em or stand in front of them with open arms?" He asked her.

Buffy cocked her head and glared at him. He was still wet. His eyes were small from crying and his lips were paler than normal.

"I've never killed a human before," she said in a low voice. "I am not a killer, Spike. Protecting humans is my calling, not killing them. If they do something bad then it's the police's job to get to them, not mine. I was called to fight demons. That's my war. The war you have made is not mine. You fight demons as you fight humans, you kill them. You're a ......."

"Killer?" he finished for her.

She looked up at his dark blue eyes. They were hard and intense.

She nodded. "Spike, I'm so..."

"Don't say it slayer, I don't want the apology," he turned and kept walking, his shoulders tense with anger.

Before Buffy could say anything he turned around to face her. "You know, Buffy, you're something else. So high and mighty you can't see past your own nose. You make yourself the victim, the martyr of this world. All hail to The Slayer called Buffy. She broke the rules when she fell in love with a soul-filled vampire, she shocked everyone when she quit the council, she was strong when she defeated a god, and she was a hero when she died for humanity."

She looked at him with bright green eyes filled with tears. The pain was visible and the pain kept him going, it was alive.

"Stop," she said to him.

"And here comes a command. I should obey, right? I should get down on my knees and obey her most magnanimous highness." he got down on his knees in front of her and bowed his head.

Buffy was about to hit him when from the darkness a movement came. He snapped his head back and looked at her.

She watched in horror as a large stake was rammed through his chest. He gasped, looking into her eyes.

"Buffy..." he let past his lips.

The slayer heard a scream. It was not until seconds later that she realized it was hers.

The vampire fell at her feet and the shadow that attacked disappeared as it had come.

Buffy fell on her knees and held the trembling vampire. "Spike?" her voice was ragged and desperate.

She turned him over and pressed his head to her chest. He felt cold, but even though she knew he should be cold the feeling was unnerving. She knew that if she tried to remove the stake she could dust him. The smallest splinter was all he needed.

To move him was impossible. It could have the same effect.

"Don't move," she whispered to him.

His eyes rolled back in his head and she kissed his forehead. She looked at the hand that should have held the Ring of Amara but it was gone--they had gotten him unprepared.

"Stay with me, baby," she said combing back the wet curls that stuck to his forehead.

"Get it out," he hissed with closed eyes.

She looked down to his blood-soaked shirt. "I can't Spike, it's too close."

He grabbed her hand and searched her face. "Do it. We have work to do."

She shook her head looking at his pain-filled face. "I am not risking it."

"Dammit, Buffy," he said, closing his eyes.

She ignored him and grabbed his ear piece.

"Lucy?" she pleaded "Please, I need help!" she cried into the piece.

The static came up, "Buffy? What happened?"

"Spike's been staked, I can't move him. Please!" she pleaded.

"Slayer..." Spike murmured trying to grab the piece from his chest.

Buffy moved his hand away.

"I'm coming, hold on," said the voice in the intercom.

"Thank you." Buffy sighed with relief.

"Buffy, I...," Spike tried to say but she silenced him with her finger.

"Hold on, baby, help is on its way," she said as he closed his eyes again.

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