Buffy sat on the wall that surrounded the graveyard, gazing up at the
above. Anything to get away from the world that was her own. She was so tired of being so limited
because of her slaying. She respected her chosen duty, and performed it well, but sometimes, even for 'The Chosen One', it got too much. Her wandering thoughts had stopped her from noticing the nearly silent sound of the ground rising behind her. Neither, did she notice when an arm reached from under the earth and pulled it's body out. But her senses suddenly became sharp, when she heard the creature move towards her.
Unsteathily - it was a new vampire. She spun around instantaneously,
turning to be greeted by
the fangs that met her eyes. She kicked high with her right leg, and the vampire's jaw took a great
blow, as he fell sideways onto the cold earth of the graveyard. He tried, in vain, to get back up, but
Buffy was ready with a stake, and drove it through his cold heart, watching him blast away into dust.
A nice easy one, tonight! Thought Buffy, as she checked around the gravestones
again, for the
last time. She decided that everything had been done, for tonight, and began to walk home. As she
walked, she felt the cold night air severely, and wished she had brought a jacket. She held her arms
around her, and with a shiver, walked on.
She didn't know that someone was watching her every move.
* * *
"We'll get her tomorrow night!" said the blond vampire, as he languidly
leaned his body on
the cold wall of the vampire's dwellings. Spike's blood-red shirt contrasted perfectly with his full
length black leather jacket, leather trousers, and boots. His hair might not have been typically vampire style - not black, like his heart - but bleached blond, slicked back. His cheekbones were severe, his face held a moody attractiveness. All of this was only just visible by the flickering of a candle, showing only the outlines of the vampire.
"Now that we know when little-miss-slayer is going to be about - we
can make our move.
I've been watching her over the past few nights - she goes on some cute slayer-patrol thing. The same route every night! If we plan it right - we've bloody got her!" he continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face. The other vampires joined him in his victorious laugh. A figure in a pure white dress came into the room. She held a raven in her hands. The bird wasas cold and as animated as a gravestone.
"It won't sing for me." She said, distantly, staring at the bird.
"It's dead, love." Said Spike "And they'll all die if you don't feed
them, baby. I told you
Drusilla dropped the raven to the floor; all feelings for it disintegrated.
"Spike?" she said, searching his eyes.
"The slayer." She said. "You have plans - for tomorrow night."
"That's right, love. We're going to finish her. Then you can become
strong again. No
interference from little girls with stakes any more, pet."
"It won't be how you think." said Drusilla, no longer looking at Spike, but distantly at a wall.
Her dark hair shone in the candlelight, her complexion pale as her dress. Her body, weak, seemed to be free of any desire to move.
"Why? What is it?" said Spike, looking worried.
"It's all going wrong. Changing. The balance is too close."
"What do you mean, love?"
But Drusilla began to walk away. She turned, just before leaving the room.
"You love me?" she asked, quietly.
"Of course I do, sweetheart." He said, walking to her, and holding her
fragile body close to
him, kissing her pale cheek. She was unresponsive.
"It's changing." she said, leaving his arms, and the room.
* * *
Giles walked side by side with Buffy, down the corridor, towards the
library. Xander and
Willow walked behind.
"I trust last night's patrol was somewhat uneventful?" asked Giles.
"Only a baby vamp. Just out of the ground. Nothing much else."
"Good. I think now would be a good time to get some training in, Buffy.
We haven't been
getting as much done as we should, you know. Your hand to hand combat needs a little work."
Buffy looked at him; amazed he could say such a thing. There she was,
battling the undead for all she
was worth - and he was complaining about her fighting skills being a bit rusty. She was alive, wasn't
"I think I've been getting enough practice lately, actually. Nothing
like the real thing, eh,
"Quite. But, you know what they say - practice makes perfect."
"Right." sighed Buffy. She knew her watcher was right. He was only doing
his duty, to help
her to do hers. They reached the dusty old library, and Buffy went to get changed into her training gear.
She returned wearing a pair of lycra shorts and a leotard, her blond hair swept up, out of her face.
"Let's go, Giles." she said, obviously having psyched herself up for the training session.
"Okay..." he said, somewhat hesitantly.
"What? Scared I'll kick your ass?" asked Buffy, playfully.
Meanwhile, Willow and Xander sat at a desk in the library.
"Better go." Said Willow "I think this is kind of a watcher-slayer thing."
"Awww, I can't watch?" asked Xander, obviously thinking of a certain slayer in lycra.
"Come on, Xander." Said Willow, walking towards the door.
"Coming, Will." He said, a deflated tone to his voice, hands thrust
into his pockets. The two
slayerettes left the library.
* * *
"Okay, Buffy. Now concentrate..." said Giles, lunging towards her with
a wooden staff. Buffy
easily kicked the staff out of his grip, and had soon pinned him into the ground, with some expertly
"Yes, yes, very good." He said, nervously, to the slayer, who's face
held a triumphant
expression. "Can I get up now?"
"Sure!" said Buffy brightly, letting Giles get up.
"Have you been practising?" asked her watcher.
"No. It's living in Sunnydale that helps me do that." She said, truthfully.
"I get plenty of field
work." she laughed.
"True. That's the, er, advantage, of living on a hellmouth. Okay, so,
um, well done. I think
that's enough training for today." he said, rubbing his left shoulder, a pained look on his face.
"Had enough?" asked Buffy, smiling.
"No, it's not me... It's just that you seem to be in shape. We simply
don't need any more
training for today, Buffy."
"Right." laughed Buffy, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and making
her way out of the
"See ya later, Giles!"
"Don't forget patrol, tonight!"
And she left the library, leaving Giles to nurse his wounds.
* * *
Spike sat atop a gravestone, waiting. It was nearly time. The other
vampires were hidden in
various places - behind bushes or gravestones. Spike felt anticipation so acutely, that if he'd had breath to hold, he would have been holding it. He had his game face on, ready for the kill. With his finger, he traced one of his perfect fangs, feeling the cruelly sharp point - he couldn't wait to sink them into the slayer's perfect neck. Get rid of her once and for all - in the way she would most hate. He growled. He didn't like waiting.
* * *
Buffy sighed, as she walked towards the graveyard. She could have been with Angel tonight. They were meant to have a date - but she hadn't been able to go, because of her 'slaying duties', as Giles called them. She sighed again, this time louder.
Spike heard her, and got down from his gravestone to move behind it. He waited. Buffy walked on, unaware, edging closer and closer to the graveyard. Spike felt excitement bubble through his veins. Thirsty veins. He had not fed yet tonight. He was waiting to feed on the slayer. He could imagine her going limp in his arms. He wanted to do it himself. If any other vampire - if they were worthy to call themselves vampires, bloody useless things that they were - tried to take that liberty, he would have to kill them himself. He heard her light footsteps with his sharp vampiric hearing - she was drawing closer.
As Buffy turned into the entrance of the graveyard, she felt strange.
Her spidey senses were
acting up. She stood deathly still, braced for combat. She felt inside her bag, for reassurance - her
stakes were all there, nice and sharp. The air was heavy with the smell of vampire scum. She stepped
forward a little, and waited. The moon shone full on the golden-haired huntress.
"Any luck on 'patrol' tonight, love?" asked a voice from the darkness.
Buffy tuned to face it,
poised to fight. A blond-haired, leather-clad thing stepped out slowly, from behind a tall statue in the
shape of a white, weathered, marble angel, with fantastic wings that reached towards the sky. His
voice was deep, with a rich British accent; his hands were casually thrust into the pockets of his leather trousers.
"I'm in luck now." said Buffy, her voice filled with venom. "I get to kill you!" she said. But she didn't move. There was about three metres between them, and neither made the first move to kill the other. Buffy didn't like it. Spike was too comfortable. He was hiding something. He obviously had some evil plan.
"Come on then, slayer!" he said, tauntingly, staring into her eyes with his, intensely, challenging her.
Buffy couldn't take it any more. She stepped forward, and, as she did
so, she heard a she sound of more vampires. Too many. She saw one after
the other, emerging from various hiding places, their fangs glistening
in the moonlight. She looked back at Spike. His face had changed too, now,
he grinned wickedly with his sharp canines. Buffy was scared. There were too many. Over twenty, all closing in on her. She steeled herself. She had to use this fear, turn it into a more productive kind of
emotion. Anger. She let it all out, as she ran towards the closest vampire and thrust a stake right into his heart. She spun around and used the same stake on an ugly vampire girl that clawed at her from behind.
She began to regain her confidence, and she got stronger each time she
turned another vampire into
dust. The number of them was rapidly decreasing. She saw one come at her from the left, and kicked
out her leg, sending it flying, its head crashing into the black marble of a gravestone. She staked it, and threw a punch to the right, straight into the stomach of another vampire.
Spike was worried. This wasn't going so well. He watched the number
of vampires get lower and lower. Mind you, they were just to weaken her
- to distract her. He was going to actually kill her
himself. She didn't look so weak though.
Buffy may have looked strong to Spike, but even for the slayer, this
was a bit much. She was
getting breathless, as she staked yet another vampire. There were three left. Just as well, really - she
couldn't have taken on many more. One vampire clumsily lunged straight at her from the front, and
Buffy held a stake in front her, just waiting for it to fall onto it. It blasted away, and the dust fell onto
"Yuck! Now I got vamp dust all over my new shoes!" she exclaimed, as
she kicked another
vampire onto the floor, before staking him as well. One left, she thought. Except Spike. Where was he, anyway? She didn't have enough time to think, because she had one more vampire to send to hell. It grabbed her; it's fangs grazing her neck, as Buffy smashed her fist into its jaw. It fell backwards, and Buffy finished it off. She stood, then, in the dark silence, breathing rapidly, desperately trying to get more oxygen into her tired body.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. She could smell vampire,
but she couldn't get
free. The hands that held her were like cold steel. She instinctively knew who it was.
"Spike! Get your hands off me, so I can send your gross vampire butt to hell!"
"Not likely, darling." He said, holding her even tighter. He grabbed
her hands and twisted
them painfully behind her back. "It's been fun playin' with you, love, but the game's over now. I'm
just going to have to kill you."
Buffy had never felt so weak in her entire life. And stupid. He had
let all his vampire idiots do
all the work first, just to get her tired. Tired enough for him to kill her. To throw her concentration off
for the second that was needed for him to grab her. And he had. And Buffy didn't know what to do.
The only things she had the use of was her legs and her teeth. She tried kicking at him, but it was of no use. She tried the second alternative, and bit hard into his left arm. He yelped, but didn't let go.
"Nice try, slayer. Tell you what, though. I can do that a lot better
with these!" he said flashing
Buffy a wicked smile with his bared fangs. "Fancy a sample?" he asked, quietly, before spinning her
around, and pushing her brutally into the statue he had emerged from behind earlier.
"It's been fun." He said, smiling, before he slammed her jaw to the
side with his hand, baring
her neck, holding her to the cold marble of the angel statue with his other hand. Buffy was shaking.
This was it. She knew her life would end this way. She tried to move
again, in vain. Every bit of
strength seemed to drain from her body.
"Go on, struggle, girl." He said, brushing her hair away from her marble
white neck, staring at
it intently, his fangs bared. "It's more fun this way."
Suddenly, every muscle in Buffy's body tensed. She waited for the inevitable
could feel every part of his body pressed against her, holding her like a vice. He stared into her eyes
intensely for a fraction of a second, and Buffy felt like she was falling. There was an electrical feeling
deep inside her. He sank his fangs deep into her neck. As Buffy felt the blood draining from her, she
thought her legs were going to give way. With that and the searing pain she felt when he first punctured her skin, she didn't expect to stay conscious for long. Then the sensation changed. The pain dimmed as her strength drained away, slowly. She became aware of his lips on her neck, not the fangs inside her.
They were icy on her warm skin, making her cells tingle wildly at the sensation; the movements as he fed were almost like a kiss. Then the pain went completely. The blood leaving her body didn't matter. All she could feel was Spike, holding her so tight she thought he would break all of her bones. A moan escaped her lips.
Spike didn't know what was happening. His vampire face disappeared; his fangs withdrew from her neck. His lips were still on her neck, but he wasn't feeding. He pressed them to her skin, kissing the wound he had just made. He pulled his mouth away, and his eyes turned to hers. She was languid from losing blood, but her eyes were filled with something he didn't recognise for a second. Then it came to him like a blow to the stomach. Desire. She looked at him with an electric intensity, her eyes looking so far into his it felt like she knew all his secrets. He savagely pulled her even closer, and his lips crashed with hers simultaneously. They acted desperately, kissing like they were unleashing all the desire of years before. Her mouth opened beneath his persistent kiss, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth, pulling him even closer towards her, her hands holding his head, as if she had to keep him there, grabbing him by that blond hair of his. Spike ran his cold hands down her body.
His touch made her skin come alive. Spike began to unbutton her shirt, his lips following his hands as they moved down her body. He kissed her throat, and as he finished unbuttoning her shirt, he pushed it away from her shoulders, kissing them, then moving further down, kissing the flesh in between her breasts, cooling their heat with his icy lips. He ran his tongue between them, making Buffy moan. He growled as she ran her hands down his chest. They kissed again, crushed together, Buffy forgetting the pain she felt at being held against the cold, hard marble of the statue. If anything, it heightened her pleasure. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and it excited her, making her kisses even more passionate. She moaned as his hands moved along her body. They were straining to get closer. There was only one thing to do, and they both knew it. But, as they both realised how intense it was, they almost simultaneously realised what they were doing.
Spike let go of Buffy, violently pushing away from her. His face held
an expression of complete bewilderment. Buffy was looking shocked too,
as she tried to slow her breathing, looking at Spike, who was walking slowly
away from her, backwards. Buffy looked down at herself, her shirt
unbuttoned, and felt sick. What had she done? She held her shirt around her, trying to hide whatever he had seen. Spike felt sick, too, as he saw the state Buffy was in. Hadn't he come here to kill her?
Drusilla had said it wouldn't go the way he'd planned, but... Oh, no. Drusilla. What had he done? But
he hadn't been able to help it... Why? Buffy was thinking the same. Angel. What about him?
My God, *what* happened there?
"Spike..." she whispered, nervously. What was there to say? Spike looked
at her one more
time, and ran. He ran out of the graveyard - away from Buffy. He couldn't see her like that. It was just - weird.
Buffy, in a daze, buttoned herself up, and began to walk home.
Buffy sat with Xander and Willow in The Bronze, which was packed full,
slowly sipping a
"Don't look now," said Xander, sounding annoyed. "Here comes The Wicked Witch."
The 'Wicked Witch' he spoke of, was Cordelia. She was attired, perfectly,
as usual, in a tiny black
satin skirt with a cropped top to match. Her hair was styled and shining, and her make-up was flawless.
She looked distressed.
"Oh, look who's come to join us. We are honoured, your majesty!" said
getting up and executing some sort of bow.
"Give it up, monkey face." snapped Cordelia. "Actually, I was just wondering
if you guys had
seen Darren around."
"Your date?" asked Buffy, smiling inwardly.
"Yeah. I can't find him. He went to the bathroom about half an hour
ago, and I haven't seen
"Surprised?" he asked, grinning.
"Xander..." warned Buffy. "Cordy, did you say anything to piss him off?"
"No... I think something must've happened to him... or something..."
she said, getting more
and more impatient. Xander sniggered again.
"Oh yeah, must have." He said, mockingly.
"My dates don't disappear." said Cordelia to Xander, angrily. "Whereas
yours don't even
show in the first place!"
Xander was silenced. It was true. He'd never had much luck with that
kind of thing. He sighed, and
turned to talk to Willow.
Buffy was thinking. She had a feeling about this... She told Cordelia
to sit with the others, and
made her way through the crowds, towards the back door of The Bronze. She slipped out into the dark alleyway there. It was silent. And dark. It was littered with rubbish bags, and there was a funny smell. Buffy turned the corner, and went round the side of the building. She saw two figures in a dark corner. Buffy recognised what was going on instantly. She ran towards them, hearing the screams of a boy, as a thirsty vampire drained his blood away. She tore the vampire away from the boy's neck. It had his warm blood dripping down it's chin. It jumped at Buffy. She kicked it backwards, and it fell onto a pile of rubbish bags. Buffy staked it, and watched it turn to dust. She went to the boy. It was Darren. So, Cordelia was right. Her dates didn't just leave. She felt his pulse. He seemed to be okay - the vampire had been stopped in just about enough time, and hadn't taken too much blood. Darren moaned and sat up. Buffy helped the boy up, and wiped the blood from his neck.
"Wha - what happened? he asked, rather incoherently.
"Nothing. You'll be okay. Go clean yourself up, and find Cordelia."
She said. She didn't have
time to explain.
"Right." he said, and stumbled away.
Buffy looked at her hands. She had his blood all over them, from fighting
with the vampire, and from
wiping his neck. She made her way back into The Bronze, and went into the ladies. She looked at the sink, the blood whirling down the plug hole, as she washed her hands. Normal girls didn't have to do this, she thought. Normal girls didn't kiss vampires...
Buffy cursed herself - she had to stop thinking about that. Ever since that night in the graveyard, she had been confused to the point where it had begun to affect her slaying. She couldn't stop wondering about it. What had made Spike do it? She was to equally to blame of course... It was one thing to go out with a vampire that had a soul - but to do something with a soulless, evil vampire...
Buffy laughed inwardly, as she thought of what Giles would think of
this. Not exactly typical slayer
behaviour. And yet, each time she thought of that night, her skin tingled with the same high-voltage
electricity she had felt back then. It had been, what, two weeks? And they hadn't had any trouble from Spike and his gang since. In fact, there hadn't been much activity on the hellmouth at all, until tonight.
But surely, it had to be something to do with the fact that Spike had
fed on her. She had felt
weak and very weird. That was her excuse (or so she tried to convince herself), but what was Spike's?
"Hey, Buff." came a voice from the door. It was Willow. "I saw Darren.
Nasty big pointy
"Yeah." Answered Buffy. "He should be okay, though."
"Good." Willow hesitated for a second, and then walked up to her, looking
worried. "Buffy -
are you okay?"
"Of course I am." she said quietly. Buffy couldn't tell Willow what
had happened, although if
anyone, she would be the one to tell. She just couldn't. She was ashamed.
"Sure? 'Cause you've been a bit, er, weird lately, and Xander's noticed it too. And Giles."
"Really. Nothing's wrong."
"No problems with Angel, or anything?"
A pang of guilt ran through Buffy like a blade. Angel. She had tried
not to think about him lately. It
just made her feel so bad. She hadn't seen him since that night.
"No, no problems. Really." she said, hoping that would end the endless questions. It did.
"Okay..." said Willow, sounding pretty unconvinced. "See ya back in
there?" she said,
gesturing towards the dance floor.
"Sure. I won't be a sec." said Buffy, relived she was going. She took
one last look in the
mirror, trying to make sense of it all, and, when she realised that just wasn't going to happen, she
braced herself, and made for the dance floor.
* * *
Spike walked on through the night. He was alone. He didn't feel like company. Not even Dru.
No - especially not Dru. He hadn't been able meet her eyes since he'd
kissed Buffy. He couldn't stop
thinking about it. It had been plaguing his mind for two weeks solid. He walked on, trying to exorcise
these thoughts from his body. It wasn't working. He couldn't shake of the familiar warm feeling he got, each time he thought of it. But he hated her! He wanted her dead. That much was true - but he couldn't deny the way she made him feel. He was convinced it must be purely physical. The normally dark lines of his face were looking more deeply worried than they had in a long time. He had to get rid of this little... hiccup. She would have to go. And soon.
Spike turned the corner towards his vampire's hiding place, and went
inside. Dru was sitting
in the middle of the room, humming an eerie tune into the darkness. Spike walked towards her, and
kneeled next to where she was sitting. He took her hands in his, and she stopped singing, looking into
"My poor love." she said, quietly, her face expressionless. "Don't worry.
You'll find a
way..." she continued.
But she didn't explain what she'd said. Spike felt uncomfortable. Did she know? What would he do if she did? He took her head in his hands, and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. Drusilla pulled softly away, and pressed her fingers to his lips.
"Your kiss is cold, love." she said. "Never mind."
She ran the back of her hand down the side of his jaw.
"It'll be okay."
Then she left.
"Dru..." began Spike. But she'd gone.
* * *
Buffy sat in the library, a gigantic old book lying open before her.
She was doing some
research with Giles. It wasn't usually what she did, but things were quiet, and Buffy felt safe in this
dusty old place. She felt the need for a bit of security right now. It suited Giles perfectly, too. He
seemed be in his element here, amongst all these old volumes that covered possibly every subject out
there. And being with Giles made her feel safe, too. He may be a bit stuffy at times (even if he used to be called 'Ripper'), and a lot of the time, it was him she unleashed all her slayer-stresses on, but he was always there for her. The term 'Watcher' suited him very well, she thought.
Giles felt at ease too. It was nice to just sit in his library with
the slayer, without the bickering
or anything else. He was puzzled, though, as to how Buffy had been acting lately. It was obvious that
she had needed this time alone with him now, that she needed the tranquillity. But why? It could just be the pressure getting to her, but he knew instinctively that it was more. He couldn't push her to tell him, though. She would have to open up of her own accord. But she looked so troubled and confused. He couldn't bear to see her like that.
"Are you okay, Buffy?" he asked, hesitantly, looking right into her eyes, questioningly. Buffy tensed up. Not Giles too... She couldn't stand his intense gaze. She looked away.
"I'm fine." She said, looking back at him again, smiling, perhaps a little too brightly.
"Good... good." He said, giving in. If she wasn't ready to tell him,
or if she didn't want to at all, that was fine. He returned to the scripture
before him, and got lost in it. It was the easiest way to forget his troubles.
It looked as if Buffy agreed with his particular form of therapy, as she
into a large volume.
Buffy wasn't reading. She looked as if she was, but it was no use. She
had been able to busy
her mind for a while, but her thoughts had taken over.
All she could think was that Spike had to die. It was the only way to
get rid of her guilt. It
wasn't like she wasn't going to do it before anyway, right? He was a vampire after all....
She began to scheme, but as each step of her plan unfolded, she couldn't understand why her
heart sank lower and lower.
* * *
Giles was alone in the library that night, when he heard a noise over
by the door. He got up
from his work, and silently went to the source of it. He opened the door and looked down the dark
corridor. There was no-one there, but he heard the sound of someone running away. It was too late to go after them. He looked down, and saw a tiny slip of paper. Picking it up, he walked back over to his desk. It was a note, in scrawled black handwriting:
"My friends and I cordially invite you to dinner in the graveyard, this
evening at midnight. Be
there, and bring the slayer. If you refuse to accept our kind invitation, we shall have a feast you'll never forget,
Giles phoned Buffy. They had work to do.
* * *
Buffy put down the handset. Giles had just called. Maybe she didn't
need her plan after all -
Spike was coming to her - with exactly the same intention. To kill her. She went over to her dresser
and unlocked the top drawer, pulling out a very big, very sharp knife. She took a piece of wood, and
hacked away with the blade. Time to slay.
* * *
The clouds covered the moon; the stars weren't visible through the thick
blanket. It was very,
very dark. Buffy, Giles, Willow, Xander and Cordelia stood in the graveyard. It was a minute past
midnight. They were all armed with stakes.
"I don't see why I have to be here..." whined Cordelia. "You guys do this weird stuff..."
"Yeah, well, welcome to the Scooby Gang. I'm not all that chirpy about
it either, but we need
all the stake-wielding people we can get right now." said Xander, checking the sharpness of his piece
of wood. "We need to get these guys - or they'll get us."
Spike stood about five metres away, and a large group of vamps stood behind him.
"Glad you came." he said. He was the only vampire who didn't have his
game face on. He
looked perfectly calm, cold and calculating. "Evening, Miss Slayer." He said, menacingly.
"Drop the act, Spikey. You've come to kill me..." said Buffy. "...So just try it, vamp breath."
He smiled a cruelly evil smile, and walked towards her, slowly. He stopped, about a foot away. Buffy refused to back away from him. She was here to do a job, and she was going to do it. She wasn't about to look scared.
"Come on then, girl." He said, looking at her challengingly. Buffy looked
at him warily, ready
to strike. To her dismay, she felt very weird, standing in front of him. She remembered the feeling of
his hands on her skin, and her face became red with anger and embarrassment. She couldn't help the
fire that shot right through her. But she saw a strange look in his eyes, too. He looked very worried.
Not just doubting his strength, but really worried. He now seemed eager to get all of this over and done with. He turned his face away. He couldn't look her in the eye. Buffy knew that he was thinking about the same things she was.
Spike couldn't handle it. He had to work through this confusion. His
face changed, and he let
it all out in one hard kick, directed towards Buffy's stomach. She fell backwards onto the hard floor
with a cry, but was soon up again, and punched him in the jaw, watching him crash into another
vampire, and knock him over. He got up again, looking angrier than ever.
The fighting had begun. This, Buffy could handle. No one else intervened,
none of Buffy's
friends, and no other vampires. Giles knew that this was show it should be. Something puzzled him
though. Just before the fight, he had seen some kind of unspoken message pass between Buffy and
Spike. Buffy definitely wasn't telling him something. There was something about the way they had
looked at each other that Giles just couldn't work out.
Spike pushed Buffy to the ground, and raised his fist to hit her again.
"Buffy!!!" shouted Xander, running towards Spike. Giles held him back. Xander struggled.
"This is something she has to do herself, Xander." said Giles.
Buffy kneed Spike in the stomach, and he rolled off in pain. Buffy got
up quickly, and stood, ready to
"Come on, Spike. Get up."
"I forgot how much fun you were, Buffy!" he said, getting up and
kicking her legs out from
under her. He held her to the ground with a carefully placed boot.
"Go on, guys, go home. You're bloody crap. This is between me and the
slayer." he said to the
other vampires. They disappeared. "And you lot. Go whittle stakes, or whatever it is you do." he
continued, speaking to Giles and the others.
"No way, we..." began Xander, before Willow clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Come on, Xander." she whispered. "This is her job."
And the slayerettes left. Willow told the others to go on without her,
and when they were out of sight,
she took a hiding place behind the wall surrounding the graveyard, watching Buffy and Spike fight.
She had a funny feeling about this.
When the graveyard was empty, apart from him and Buffy, Spike suddenly
wished he hadn't
got rid of the others. He felt strangely uncomfortable, being alone with her again. He got over this by
giving her another kick. She blocked it easily, and hit him in the stomach. He hit her back twice as
hard. Buffy drew her stake. Spike kicked it out of her grip and backed up. Buffy backed up too. They stood about a metre away, neither making a move to hit the other.
Suddenly, into the silence, Spike began to laugh, uncontrollably. Buffy
"What are you laughing at?!" she said, getting ready to fight him again.
Spike smiled at her with his fangs showing, looking as wicked as ever.
"This is bloody ridiculous!" he said. He couldn't take it any more.
This was stupid. He had a
sudden moment of clarity, heightened by the rush of the fight. Here they were, trying their best to kill
each other, when that was obviously the last thing they wanted to do!
"What's the problem?" asked Buffy, praying to God that he wasn't thinking
the same as she
"You are my problem, girl!" he said, walking closer to her. "I'm trying
to convince myself
that what I really want to do is kill you, not screw you! It's not bloody working!" he shouted, now
standing so close to Buffy that she could smell him. He smelt like the dark night, and his eyes flashed
"Oh." said Buffy, not knowing what to say. He was speaking nothing but
the truth, and she
knew it. She had exactly the same dilemma. But she wasn't going to admit it. She backed up, slowly.
"Time for me to go, I think..." she said, breathing heavily. The now
unhidden electricity in his
eyes scared her, and she knew she just couldn't stay, or... she knew what would happen. She backed up some more. He stepped further forward, closing in on her. She turned and ran. She didn't get far.
Spike's face had changed back to it's human form, and he grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her to him, with a force Buffy couldn't stop. He held her head in front of him, both of his hands holding a mass of blond hair. Buffy struggled, but it was no good. He held her to him, so that she could feel every part of him against her. She could smell him, and the leather of his clothes.
The feelings of the other night came rushing back. She wanted him, with
a soul-tearing need
she'd felt with no-one else. Not like this. She violently needed this vampire. As much as he needed her. Spike pulled her up to him, and kissed her brutally, moving his hands to her waist, holding her
so tightly that Buffy was finding it hard to breath. And she didn't care. She kissed him back with
abandon, pushing her body into him, pressing herself against his erection. He reacted to this by kissing her even more passionately than before. Buffy took hold of the collar of his jacket, and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
Spike took one of his hands from her waist, and moved it further down, underneath her skirt and in between her legs, doing things there that made buffy moan loudly. She gained just enough control to move her hands to his black shirt, pulling it from his lean, muscular body, buttons flying onto the earthy ground of the graveyard. She gasped suddenly, and the warmth that was building between her legs came to a climatic point, a sharp feeling of complete pleasure running through her as she cried out.
Spike was merciless, not giving her time to recover, he slammed her
body into the wall, and
pulled her top over her head, as Buffy gasped for breath. Buffy quickly took off her bra herself, and
then she ran her hands over his torso, kissing him deeply, exited when she saw in his eyes how aroused he was. He needed her, and he needed her now. The feeling was mutual.
Spike moved his mouth to one of her breasts, as he held her to the wall
with his hands. He ran
his tongue over her erect nipple, and Buffy looked down, watching what he was doing to her. She
threw her head back and moaned with desire. She had never felt this good. Spike couldn't take it any more. He lifted her onto the wall, and moved his hands under Buffy's skirt, pushing it up above he waist. Buffy started to wriggle her knickers off, but, impatiently, Spike tore them from her. She held on to him tightly, as she waited for the feeling of him inside her. He didn't keep her waiting for long.
Spike growled, moved his hands to her thighs and held them, as he slammed
all the way
inside her, moving in and out of her, deep and slow, and, as Buffy pressed herself closer to him, grinding into him, saying his name over and over, he moved faster and faster, going deeper and deeper inside her. As he slammed harder and faster, Spike's face changed and he growled ferally once more, the blue of his eyes darkly burning into hers. Buffy's eyes widened as she saw his game face, intimidated but also aroused by his intensity. They held onto each other as if they could never, ever let go, and Buffy moaned as she felt the heat building inside her again, slowly, as he slammed into her, and then it came over her like a wave, and pleasure tore out of her like lightning as she came, riding the longest, hardest orgasm she'd ever experienced. Her body shook violently, and her eyes watered, as she screamed his name loudly, holding onto him. Spike came almost simultaneously, feeling her tighten around him, calling out her name into the night.
* * *
Willow crouched behind the wall, her eyes wide. She should have left before, but...
She couldn't believe what she'd just seen. She saw Buffy and Spike,
now lying together on the floor,
holding onto each other.
Bewildered, shocked and dazed, she ran all the way home.
To be continued....