beneath you
part five

Oh, god, she'd better be here. Was it any wonder she was freaked? She'd run all over the fucking place trying to find Dawn -- first, the library, where the little twerp has said she would be; second, Janice's, in case her sister was trying to pull another trick like she had last Halloween; third, and this was a long shot, Xander's. In fact, she'd been so desperate by the time she'd hit Xander’s place, that when she'd knocked down his door, she'd woken him up from his late afternoon nap and sent him tumbling to the ground right off of the couch.

No Dawn.

So she'd run to the only other place she could think of. The one place that Buffy had avoided as much as possible when she hadn't been checking up on Clem. And upon entering Spike's crypt, she'd screamed loud and clear, "DAWN!" in hopes that the lying little brat would be there.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Dawn climbed up the ladder tentatively, giving Buffy her most apologetic look. Buffy ignored it and instead pulled the girl to her, hugging her as hard as she could. "Why are you here, Dawn? Why did you do that to me? You scared the hell out of me!"

Dawn pulled back slightly and sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I... I shouldn't have lied to you, and I'm sorry. But..." she looked around the upper level, pausing on Spike's old chair and TV set. Glancing back at Buffy, she shrugged. "I miss him."

Buffy’s face softened, and she sighed, touching Dawn's face and gently weaving the teen’s shoulder-length hair through her fingers. "I know, Dawn. I know you do. And I'm sorry, but I really don't think he's coming back. Believe me, if I could, I would find him and drag him back here, just for you." She frowned. "I'd have to find out where to look, first." Her face softened again. "But I would try. Just so you could see him again, just so you wouldn't have miss him so much."

Dawn took a deep breath, then exhaled again, staring at her sister. "I'm not gonna give up on him. He'll come back, I know he will. He loves us too much to just stay away."

Buffy's shoulders tensed, and she closed her eyes for a second. Various scenes flashed behind her eyelids, of the many times that Spike had declared his feelings for her. Downstairs in this very crypt; inside the dilapidated old building, before she'd thrown herself at him and fucked him into oblivion in order to hide from her feelings and herself; searching for Dawn after Willow had gone on a magic rampage and had stolen a car, nearly getting the teen killed; countless times after they'd had sex (or in his eyes, made love); numerous times in her dreams after he'd left town, making special appearances in her mind and declaring his eternal love for her.

And there was no doubt in Buffy's mind that Spike had let the teenager know how much he cared about her as well.

She sighed, and resigned herself to nodding. Once Dawn fixated herself on something, it was just a tad bit hard trying to get her to let go of it. If she said Spike was coming back, then maybe, just maybe... he would.

And then she would kick his ass for leaving in the first place.

Buffy sighed again. "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Don't get your hopes up, Dawn." The Slayer glanced around the crypt cautiously. "So, where's Clem? He's not here?"

Dawn shrugged, relieved at the change in subject. She had been this close to blabbing all about the blond vampire hiding in the tunnels under the crypt. "I don't know. Come to think of it, we haven't seen him in a while. Where do you think he is?"

Buffy frowned. "I have no idea. He could have just taken off. And he doesn't seem as fond of us since we blacked out the TV last month, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he left without telling."

The teenager pouted. "Awww, that's too bad. I liked him."

Buffy smiled slightly. "You know, he insulted me when we first met? At least, I’m pretty sure it was an insult. I was drunk at the time, and I don't even remember feeling my feet."

Dawn gave the older Summers an odd look, trying as hard as she could not to laugh. "You were drunk? I thought you learned your lesson about that after the whole CaveBuffy thing at the college?"

The Slayer glared at her. "I was moody, shut up. Anyway, I think it was after I went to see Angel last year. I came home, I was kind of depressed and all, and I ended up drinking with Spike --" she cut herself off, freezing. Then she let out a deep breath and nodded, relaxing. It was okay to say his name. And it was okay to remember him. For a soulless vampire that she had pushed to the edge, he'd done a lot of memorable things for her, and it was okay to remember that. She pointed to a corner in the crypt. "Right there, as a matter of fact. And he took me to get some information at a bar where they were playing kitten poker."

Dawn's eyebrows went up. "They were playing poker for cute little kitties?"

Buffy laughed. "Yeah, it was the funniest sight. After the whole thing, I even started the Kitten Liberation Movement, and set the kitties free. Poor things, I don't think half of them got away. But anyway, Spike brought me in and sat me down in the corner with a bottle of... whiskey, I think it was, in my hand. He introduced me around, and Clem just stared at me for a second, before inferring that my skin was so tight, that it was disgusting. Big laugh coming from a demon whose skin is practically falling off, right?"

Dawn giggled. "Right. Clem isn't exactly the best person to talk about that."

The Slayer sighed and looked around again before moving toward the sarcophagus and sliding onto it. Her vision went blank for a moment.

"Tell me you love me."

Spike stared at her with barely concealed hope. "I love you. You know I do."

She moved closer, almost imperceptibly. "Tell me you want me."

Spike's feelings for her surfaced instantly. "I always want you. In point of fact --"

She grabbed him and led him to the sarcophagus. "Shut up."

Turning them around, she slid her hands up his arms, gazed up into his sparkling blue eyes, and leaned in as he lifted her up onto the sheet-covered stone. He climbed up after her, holding her close, sensing that something was different, hoping that it was, realizing that she was giving herself to him fully this night.

Her little hands slid down and grasped at his jean clasps, undoing them as Spike’s own hands worked on hers. Lifting her up gently, he tugged down her pants and pulled away her panties as their lips hovered around each others. Finally, he sheathed himself inside of her as Buffy pulled him close to her, kissing him, devouring him, overwhelming them both with their emotions -- him, with his love, lust, and desire for her; and her, with her need to be loved, lusted after, to be desired.

The flash ended and Buffy came back to herself. Dawn, who’d been trying to climb up next to her, barely noticed Buffy’s flushed skin as the Slayer shook her head to rid herself of the images that refused to leave. The teen finally plopped down firmly next to her sister when she got onto the stupid stone block, then looked at Buffy expectantly.

“So?” she asked, pretty blue eyes bright. Blue eyes that were way too identical to another pair of beautiful blue eyes, ones that expressed anything and everything in a simple blink. “How’d you know where to look?”

Buffy blinked again and shook her head, looking at the younger Summers. “Oh... um, well, I had to go to a bunch of places to find you, and after that, the crypt just seemed the most logical. I mean... I’m pretty sure you spent a lot of your time here with Spike, and vice-versa at the house when I was dead. So... here I am, and here you are.” Buffy folded her arms, tilting her head. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dawn smiled slightly. “Spike left behind a lot of history books when he left. I figured looking through some of them might help me out a little.” She frowned then, wrinkling her nose. “That’s probably when I found out that the books dealt with history in the views of demons and vampires.”

The Slayer began laughing. “Aww, Dawn, you should have realized that from the start. Pretty gruesome stuff, huh?”

Dawn shrugged. “Actually, it’s nothing worse than what I’ve seen you and Spike do with a battle axe, so I was pretty cool. Anyway, the books were one thing, and then it was also... the crypt, you know? It’s... homey, in a weird, grungy... dead... type way.”

Buffy smiled and wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. Her breath excaped her through tightly pursed lips. “I know what you mean. I’ve been here so often that this place does feel homey.” She glanced at Dawn. “I really need a break.”

She slid down off of the sarcophagus and headed toward the  rypt doors. “Let’s go home, ‘kay, Dawnie?”

The younger Summers nodded. “Sure, just lemme go get my things from downstairs.”

Buffy nodded, watching quietly as the teen slipped down the ladder. A cool rush swept over her, and her Spidey sense began to act up again. Cursing, she looked over her shoulder into the graveyard.

Nothing.

She frowned, then moved toward the center of the crypt. Definitely a presence here, then... an almost, sort of comforting one. And it felt like...

Buffy shook her head and shrugged the feeling off. She could have sworn that Spike was there, again. God, she was sick of this... She obviously missed him so much that she was beginning to sense him everywhere. Even here, in this empty crypt, where no one, apparently, had taken residence for over two weeks.

Although it would make sense. Spike had lived here, after all.

“She misses you.”

Spike grunted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I can see how much she misses me. Bit, just leave off. Big sis doesn’t want me around, an’ I don’t wanna bug her. I’ve already done enough to her.” His gaze lowered and he sighed. “I tried to rape her, then I left her like the rest. It’s best that I just stay out of her way, ‘cos if she finds out I’m back, she’ll be handing me my head before I dust.”

Dawn frowned. “Wow. You’ve really changed.”

Spike’s head sank lower, and his feet began to kick at the remains of his bed. “Look, Bit, I’ll let you call me a poofter if it’ll help you make sense of this bloody new soul. But please, just please, let me be. Don’t encourage me to talk to your sister, because number one, she’s not gonna want to talk. I think she’ll be more into chopping off all my limbs. Number two, I’ve put her through enough. I love her more than anything, an’ all I’ve been able to do to her is hurt her. I don’t want that anymore. I just want her to start being happy, an’ with me in her face all the time, that’s never gonna happen.”

Dawn moved forward, towards him, tilting her head down slightly in order to peer into his face. When she reached him, she stopped, then leaned in, giving him the tightest hug she was capable of.

“I think she’d be happy to know that you’re back. So she’d throw a fit or two at first, but then, it would hit her... you’re back. And then maybe you two could work through your problems, and at least be friends, if nothing more. I know you won’t believe me, but when you left, the look on Buffy’s face was like she’d just been socked in the stomach. It was kind of like graduation all over again, only this time, it was you, and you didn’t even stop to say good-bye to her. And you were the one that was supposed to stay for good. No matter what she did to you.”

The vampire sighed. It was sweet of his Bit to try and reason with him. But he’d been on the receiving end of Buffy’s fury, more than Dawn had. Spike had been someone that Buffy had hated, and he knew -- more than knew -- that she hated the idea of having feelings for him. He’d be dust the second he tried to look at her.

Looking up, he gave her a pain-filled, pleading gaze. “Nibblet,” he whispered. “Go on home, now. Please? Buffy’s waiting for you upstairs; prolly thinks you’ve fallen down a hole or something by now. I appreciate the talk.” Dawn started to interrupt and Spike held his hand up. “No, Dawn. Buffy will find out I’m here sooner or later, probably sooner, but she’ll be the one to come to me. I’m not gonna bounce into her life again with a soul an’ act like I’m the next bloody coming of Christ, or an Angel imitation. She doesn’t deserve that. She’ll find out on her own, an’ I’ll just... be here when she does.”

The girl’s hand moved up to touch Spike’s cheek, and the vampire nuzzled into it gratefully, sighing in relief when Dawn nodded in agreement. “Okay, Spike. Buffy can find out on her own. But don’t even hesitate to come find me if you need to talk. Okay? Promise me, Spike.”

He purred gently, took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I promise you, baby.”

Dawn smiled and hugged him again, gently this time. “I love you, Spike,” she whispered in his ear.

The blonde vampire’s face brightened, and he smiled, hugging her back. “I love you, too, pet.” Pulling away, he tugged lightly on a strand of her hair and smiled, then gently swatted her hand. “Go on then, luv. Get your goods, an’ catch up to the Slayer.”

The teenager smiled one more time and squeezed Spike’s hand before shouldering her pack and heading up the ladder.

Spike’s smile drooped off of his face the minute she was gone and, letting out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumped, and his head fell.

Buffy was going to find him very, very soon. He knew it.

And when she did...

“This sucks.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “But according to this, it’s the most widely read and the most celebrated all over North America,” she said innocently.

Brown eyes glared up at her, unamused. “I’m serious, Buff. How the hell am I supposed to figure out how I can get Anya to be civil to me again if I can’t even understand these stupid... things?”

Buffy sighed. “Xander... that’s why these magazines are targeted toward women. Men aren’t supposed to understand them. They’re supposed to make fun of them and dance around, singing ‘la, la, la’ like they don’t know any better. Which they don’t, since they don’t make these magazines for men.”

Xander threw down the Cosmo, his lips forming a sullen pout. “Stupid chauvinistic women.”

Buffy snorted and grabbed his arm, veering him away from the magazine aisles. “Xander, we have a job to do. We need to divide and conquer if we’re gonna make it back to your place in time, then to the airport to welcome Willow and Giles back. Can I please trust you not to dive headfirst into women things that you never have, and never will have any knowledge about?”

Xander sighed, then puffed up his chest at Buffy’s glare, saluting her. “Yes, Ma’am, right away, Ma’am!”

Buffy glared at him even more. “Stop it. Whenever you talk like that, it reminds of... someone who is army trained and married that I used to date and would prefer to not ever think about anymore ever again.”

Xander grinned and shrugged weakly. “Sorry.”

Dawn, who had tagged along for the endeavor, lagged behind the two at a safe, far distance, talking to Janice. The younger Summers had a few more friends now than she had the previous two years, but Janice was the only one who’d been involved in something supernatural with her -- bad, bad memories of Halloween night gone wrong last year.

Buffy had deemed it all right to let Janice in on Sunnydale’s secrets, as long as she never blabbed to anyone else. Surprisingly, Janice had believed every single word she’d said, from Willow’s former witchcraft stint, to Buffy being the Slayer, to Spike being the second vampire in history to ever be ensouled and in love with the Slayer.

“So, wait. You’re saying that Spike’s back? From Africa? Is that where you got that cool necklace from?”

Dawn smiled proudly, holding her chin up high as she showed off the hematite. “Exactly. He brought it back especially for me. He said that  a shaman guy sensed that Spike was thinking about me, so the shaman guy gave him this to give to me.”

Janice wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t Africa all sunny? Why would he go there? How did he get there? I mean, without burning into cinders or something.”

Dawn frowned, stopping. “I don’t know.” She shook her head and started walking again. “Note to self: Ask Spike more about Africa.”

Janice peered toward Buffy and Xander, eying them cautiously. “Buffy doesn’t know that he’s back, does she?”

Dawn shook her head. “Spike doesn’t want her to know. He says that she’ll find him sooner or later and he’d rather not look like a big cardboard vampire cutout with a target painted over his heart. Nobody knows he’s back except me -- and, well, now you.” The teenager grimaced as she looked in Xander’s direction. “Besides... Xander’s not fond of Spike at all.”

Janice gave her a skeptical look. “After all you’ve told me about their bad blood, you say that Xander’s not fond of Spike?”

Dawn grinned. “Okay, okay, Xander abhors Spike. He can’t stand him, wants to stake him, and all that icky creepiness. He really likes to believe that he’s better than Spike, which, no, not really. And okay, maybe now, a smidgen, after the, uh, bathroom incident that I never told you about --” Dawn glared pointedly at Janice. The other teen nodded, smiling. “But now, Xander’s just gotten really full of himself. At least till you mention Anya to him. Then he gets all flustered and pouty and all with the sob-stories and pity-me syndrome.”

Janice grinned. “I totally get that. I mean, he’s the one that screwed up. I know he was, like, scared or whatever, but he left her at the altar. Why couldn’t he have talked to Anya and told her how he was feeling, instead of embarrassing her in front of her friends and family?”

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s never tried anything like Spike did with Buffy, but that doesn’t mean he’s the most perfect guy to walk the face of the earth, and it doesn’t give him the right to act like he is. I mean, Spike was soulless at the time, and he loved Buffy. But she dumped him, and it was eating him alive, you know?” The teenager quieted, staring at the ground. “I mean... all he wanted was for Buffy to love him back. That wasn’t so much to ask, was it?”

Janice sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before shouldering Dawn gently. “Let’s get off the gloomy topics, kay? Maybe we can get back to the magazine aisles and find out if there’s anything on Seth Green or James Marsters.” A wicked grin appeared on her lips. “You know, if you think about it, James kinda looks like Spike. Except, you know, he’s American, and not a vampire.”

Dawn looked at Janice in horror. “Ewww! Oh, god, Janice, come on! Spike’s like my brother, I don’t wanna compare him to James! I’m never gonna look at him the same ever again!”

Janice simply giggled and lead her to the ‘zines. “Come on.”

“Hey.” Nudge. “Hey.” Nudge. “Buffy. Yoo-hoo. Earth to Buffy?” Double nudge.

“Xander, if you don’t stop that, I’m gonna flip you into the mayonnaise jars.”

Xander tilted his head. “Okay, mayo, good for the hair, but -- “ He caught Buffy’s glare. “Right. Anyway. Missing teenagers. Dawn and Janice went AWOL again.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “They’re probably just in the magazine aisle drooling over Nick Carter or the Goo Goo Dolls or something.”

Xander grunted. “How come they can go waste time, but I can’t?”

The Slayer gave him a sideways glance. “Because they’re teenage girls, not a twenty-two year old guy, Xander.”

“Awww, fine.”

He couldn’t quite pull off the pouty lips. Not like Spike could -- Train derailing, train derailing! Get back on track, Buffy! “Yeah. Get the cheesy chips, Xand.”

A quick nod and grin. “Right away, M’lady.” He scuttled off. Hehe. Scuttled. Like Sebastian in The Little Mermaid.

Sigh. Buffy’s brain go boom.

As soon as Xander ran to the snack aisle, more than likely to come back with about fifteen varieties of different chips, pretzels, and teeth-rotting, hyper-inducing, sugar-coma foods, Buffy pushed off, shoving the cart in the direction of the milk and dairy. She was just fiddling around with the Swiss cheese and the All-American white, when she stopped dead -- not literally.

Shock of white-blonde hair. Extremely familiar. Moving through the hair care section. Her heart thumped, and without a second thought, she took off after the head of hair.

Rounding the corner (and nearly bouncing the cart off of a rather heavy-set woman that was deciding on blonde or red-head), Buffy chased down Guy... wearing black jeans. He was wearing black jeans, she was short enough to see, and she could see his legs, and he was wearing black jeans!

He was just ahead of her, now, back turned, broad, muscular shoulders taut as he stretched up to capture the gel at the top of the shelf. Buffy bit her lower lip as she closed in. Oh, god. What was she going to say to him? What could she say to him? “Hi, thanks for coming back and giving me a chance to kick your ass for leaving?” Or how about, “So... wanna roll in the hay, for old times sake?”

Damn, was she that desperate to make a complete and utter ass out of herself? If she was counting her cards right, he would never let her live that down.

Ooh, ooh, he was right in front of her. She took a deep breath, then tentatively reached out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder. Buffy smiled weakly as he spun around...

Before it dropped completely. Not Spike. Random Guy with a bad bleach job. Now that she really looked, the hair was more yellowy-orange than platinum-white. And his body wasn’t as lean and sinewy as Spike’s. In fact, he looked like someone off of a bodice ripper book.

Hmph. Random Guy was now giving her a weird Look. “Can I help you?” he asked in confusion.

Buffy frowned and shook her head. Eyes were brown, not blue. No British accent. Not-Spike was a really shitty version of Her Spike. “No... Sorry,” she mumbled, veering away. “Thought you were someone else.”

Random Guy’s weird Look softened into an apologetic and confused one. “Uh... sorry?” he called after her as she steered away.

Buffy sighed and turned the cart toward the snack aisles. “No; I am,” she whispered. She’d been so stupid. Desperation to hear Spike’s voice again, after all those months, couple with her recent hallucinations, had made her completely ignore a dormant Slayer tingly that was now reacting, and going positively haywire.

Buffy stopped and looked around, frowning. The presence was warm, comforting... enveloping her from every side. The presence was Spike’s. But the vampire was no where in sight. His presence was there... but he wasn’t.

Dammit, if he’d been killed and turned into a ghost for some reason, it only figured he’d come back and haunt her.

She inwardly cringed at the thought of Spike being dead -- permanently -- then shouldered it off. Her senses wouldn’t be going off so strongly if Spike was a former vampire turned ghostie. The only time the tinglies got so strong was when there was a vampire somewhere. And there was definitely a vampire somewhere in that building.

She sighed again, then shrugged off her thoughts again. It was just her hallucinations getting the best of her. Spending so much time with a man who had spent a century plus taking care of a crazy woman had finally rubbed off on her. He wasn’t back. And he wasn’t going to come back. And she really had to learn to stop imagining him in her head. And it would help if she stopped talking to herself as well.

She needed to see a therapist.

As predicted, Xander came back to the cart, loaded down with snacks, some chemically treated, others chemically processed, but all good and fattening. Dawn and Janice came down the aisle, laughing and giggling with a magazine apiece. A pleading glance at Buffy, and the Slayer relented, signaling to them to toss the teenie-bops into the cart. Xander jogged over to the soda section and hauled down a few cheap, generic 2-liter pop bottles, placing them in the cart before he and his three female escorts made their way to the check-out.

From the hair-care aisle, Spike peered out at them, panting. Dammit; he’d really had to run that time to avoid Buffy catching him. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that she was following him! Well, she was following him tonight -- or rather, she was following someone who appeared to look like him, judging from her little display at the Indy Cart 500.

He shook his head. Maybe, if he was dense enough, he’d allow himself to believe that she missed him. But when he’d seen her face as she’d confronted his look-a-like, he’d seen a cross between wanting to hug him and wanting to hurt him.

Needless to say, Spike wasn’t going to let himself get disillusioned.

Sighing, he reached for a box of bleaching formula (his hair was sticking out at about an inch now, and he was certain that the roots looked repulsive) and slipped it into the pocket of the heavy brown leather jacket he’d worn two years ago to try to impress her, and look where that got me. 

Shooting a glance at the check-out line near him (and specifically, at Buffy), he shoved through the mob of people desperate to make it out before the store closed and they got screwed over, until he reached the exit. Then he plowed out as fast as his vampiric speed would allow him so he wouldn’t trip the alarm.

Heading for the side of the building, he flipped out the box of cigarettes he’d stolen from the 7-Eleven earlier, took one out and put the box away, then pulled out his Zippo, lighting up the fag quickly. He leaned back and rested the back of his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he remained in that position, but the sound of an angry female voice jolted him awake instantly. Fearing that the Slayer had discovered him, he cowered further in the shadows and listened as silently as possible.

“Stop it! LET GO!” Frustrated, angry growl. “I mean it! Let go of me, now!”

Sounds of a bit of a struggle. Spike’s eyes widened when the female’s scent hit him, and he recognized her voice.

Not Buffy. Not at all. Buffy could take care of herself, and nobody could really hold her still.

That... was Dawn.

Next

Back

NC-17 Home