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“Why don’t I just kill you and put you out of your misery
if it’s that bad?”
“Why don’t you just close your bitchy little mouth and
hear me out.”
Rolling her eyes, Buffy led the way toward a bench that
sat next to the pub. “Make it quick.”
“No. I might not like what you have to say.” She took
one look at his face and reluctantly slid the sharp piece
of wood up her sleeve. “Spit it out.”
“SHUT. UP.” Spike leveled her with his deep blue eyes
and then sighed, dreading telling her the truth. “I
picked up this bitch and screwed her silly then started
to feed on her and she was a demon. Anyway, I couldn’t
kill her…”
“I tried to kill her but the thing wouldn’t die. She cursed
me. She cursed my dick. “
“This is just gross. How dare you come here and think
that I will help you after you’ve tried to kill me a
thousand times?” She shook with fury as she brushed
his hands off her arm.
“Home.”
“You start now. We’re going into this club and you’re
going to act like I’m the most attractive person alive
and you’re madly in love with me.”
Xander was the first to see Buffy and Spike walk into
the pub together and he spit the soda he had been
guzzling halfway across the table. It splattered Willow
right in the face. “Ah, Willow. How long does it take
someone to become a vampire?”
Spike puffed his chest and moved nose to nose with the
boy. “Do you?”
“I have a stake with your name all over it, Billy Boy.”
“And I have a healthy appetite. Even for weasels like
you.”
“The hell you will.” Spike yanked her beside him and
growled under his breath. “The circumstances here are
to remain private. As in, me and you.”
Parker licked the blood that was trickling from his lip
and then swung at Spike, who had anticipated as much.
He sent the boy flying against the wall like he was a
ragdoll and then hauled him to his feet again. “I can
make it hurt if you don’t.”
Nodding, Spike turned the nose the other way. “Now tell
her that she’s worth more than you anyway.”
“How in hell did you get the job of being a Slayer when
you have no threshold for pain?” Spike grabbed her
shoulders and flopped her onto her back. He stood
quickly and straightened her leg, pushing her foot
upward.
Spike rubbed his hands across his jeans and got to his
feet. “You’ve seen two of my girlfriends. Big deal. You
will never be my girlfriend so there is nothing for you to
compare it too or to worry about. We have a business
arrangement and nothing else.”
__
Buffy shut the door behind them and flipped the lamp
on. “Unlike some people in this room, I have more than
one outfit.”
“Yes, but I’ve noticed that most of your outfits are little
more than scraps of cloth so you must have your entire
wardrobe in here for it to be this heavy.” With a
contented sigh, he collapsed into a recliner and put his
feet up.
“Sleep.”
__
Buffy felt the blood rush to her face and she slammed
the door and latched it, locking him in the basement.
“Don’t try to escape. It’ll be daylight soon.”
__****__
“Where is Spike?”
Sticking her feet into the slippers beside her bed, Buffy
gave Willow a quick run down on what Spike had told
her. She let her know that the prostitute had blown out
some sort of smoke and that Spike had felt it and seen
it go into his penis. Both girls giggled like mad when
Buffy said that she was the cure and then Willow gasped
and said, “You’re not thinking about doing it are you?”
“How?”
“I got you some food. I also closed all the blinds in the
house so come on up.” Buffy left the door open and
walked back into the kitchen. “Are you cold?”
“Always.” He appeared behind her and peeked into the
room, confirming that she had sun-proofed everything.
“But that doesn’t mean I liked being locked into a cold,
musty basement. Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I
should be buried.”
“If you aren’t hungry then give it back.” She held out
her hand and smiled as he began to slurp it through the
straw. “Good dog.”
He glared at her until the glass was empty and then sat
it on the counter. “I don’t even want to know what that
was.”
Buffy saw him out of the corner of her eye while she
fished through her paperwork and schoolbooks. “Give
me that, asshole.”
“You’re a bitch!”
“And you have to appease the bitch.” She shut the door
quickly, just as he s tarted another rant and headed
quickly toward Giles’s.
__
Who I Am
An Essay By: Buffy Summers
Introduction to Psychology
Professor Walsh
**
--
“And said?”
Picking up her tea, Will took a deep breath. “Basically,
there are two types of demons that use smoke to infect
their victims. A Glassimer, which is the worst case
scenario, or a witch, which I can handle.”
__
She entered her home with more blood for Spike and a
pizza for herself. Intent on enjoying her break from
schoolwork, she had rented several movies as well.
Sitting her stash on the island in the kitchen, she quietly
followed the sounds of the printer up the stairs. Having
Spike do her laundry and her schoolwork was something
she could have easily gotten used to. Having him
around at all was something she could easily get used
to.
Spike had his back to her and was gazing intently at the
screen when she poked her head around the doorjamb.
A thick pile of paper sat to his left and his hands were in
his lap. When he leaned to retrieve the newly printed
document from the printer tray, Buffy saw why. He had
found his way online and was currently downloading and
printing photos of naked women.
“Piss off.”
“Aww, poor wittle Spikey has a panty fetish and the big,
bad Slayer is going to tell.”
“It shows the date right here, Dye Job.” Buffy tapped
the screen. “It’s official. You are the most disturbing
man alive.”
She snatched the papers and shoved them into her lap,
clicking again. “I’m busy here. So, you’re a fan of
bondage? That’s good since since your balls are still in a
vise grip.”
“I’m going downstairs!” He shouted and stomped out
the door. Truth be told, he was secretly enjoying the
hell out of her reaction.
“You want these photos?” She yanked the one off the
top of the pile and glanced at it. “Pamela Anderson
Lee.” Smiling, Buffy ripped it down the middle and let it
slip to the ground.
And more.
She took a big bite of her pizza and wiped her hands
before she grabbed the remote again. The television
clicked on and Spike clicked it off. Sighing, she flipped it
back on and then hid her amusement when he yanked
the plug from the wall. “What do you want, Spike?”
Buffy waited for him to sit down and said, “Spike, could
you bring me the salt out of the kitchen? It’s on the
bar.”
“Why sure! Why the hell not? It’s not like I have any say
in the unethical treatment of me.” He stormed away and
Buffy chuckled, staring at his ass. Since he usually wore
his leather duster she never got to see the glory of what
he had under it. She closed her eyes and imagined
raking her nails across his back while her body shook
with an orgasm.
“Oh! I left my drink in the fridge. Will you get it?” Her
voice was laden with syrup and she batted her
eyelashes.
“No.”
“Milk, orange juice, tea, coke, Dr. Pepper and beer. One
beer, which I am drinking so you can’t have it.” He
snatched it out and quickly opened it.
“Bloody hell!”
“What do we have?”
“There is no pineapple-orange.”
< Oh god, he’s going to kiss me. > She closed her eyes
as he lowered his head and anticipated his mouth on
hers. Instead, she felt his tongue on her cheek, lapping
at the sugary droplets. He traced a pattern down one
side, under her chin and back up the other cheek. Buffy
clutched his forearms as he moved his hands to either
side of her face, hanging on for dear life as he ignited
something in her body.
Buffy bit her lower lip and watched as a smile lit up his
features. How could she have been so blind. His entire
agenda had been to kill her from the beginning. “You
got what you wanted so leave me alone.”
He shook his head and held his arms out, begging her
to hear him out. “Come here, baby. Please listen to
me.”
__
The next thing she did was gather her clothing, which
was as rumpled as her dignity and threw it all in the
garbage. Willow had a spare key so she stormed into
the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as she
could stand it. That was where Willow found her. By
then the water had turned cold and Buffy was crouched
under the spray.
“Hit bit me.” Sobs wracked her body and she leaned her
face into her pillow. “He tried to kill me while we were
doing it.”
__
“Spike!”
“No. You can’t have a soul. Well, unless you want one
and then I can..”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“After you went to sleep.” Willow bit her lower lip and
leaned forward, watching Buffy closely. “How do you
feel about him today?”
"I hate him and hope I never see him again.” Buffy said
her words fast. Too fast. It was almost like she was
racing to convince herself she meant it.
“I know why.”
“NO!”
“An eternity.”
“UNDO IT!”
“You told her about it after I asked you not to?” Spike
demanded, only hearing that part.
“You’re rare.”
You are remarkable and you star in a play that you can
re-write at will. Take control of the pen and paper,
Buffy. Set your heart free and unlock the mysteries of
what you possess inside and try to see you from my
point of view. I hated you so much it pained me to even
think about you. But one day…one single day…changed
all of that.
You said that the top five things that people called you
were beautiful, gifted, loving, smart and determined.
When I see you, all of that is evident but I also see
someone so much like myself in my mortal days. It's
like a mirror for the first time in two hundred years. I
see someone who just needs to be. You need to be
loved for who you are instead of what you are. I saw
you during this time we had together as something
other than the slayer. I saw you as a girl. A perfect girl.
I pity you the fact that you can’t see through my eyes.
And I pity the fact that I can’t put into words the effect
you have had on me.
Exist for you, pet. And maybe someone will come and
exist alongside you that will challenge you enough to
peel away the petals and reveal the you I see. I hope I
can be there to see you experience yourself for the first
time.
-Spike
__
Rising to her feet, she called out his name and charged
up the stairs. Willow intercepted her in the kitchen,
trying once again to apologize but Buffy pushed past
her and darted up the stairs to her bedroom. “Spike?”
“Yes I will.” She sat on the toilet and ran her fingers
through her tangled hair. “Spike, I believe you. I don’t
think you wanted to kill me.”
“No.” He rinsed the soap from his hair and then stood
under the water, angrily tapping his foot. When she
didn’t reply, he leaned his head closer to the shower
curtain, trying to hear her breathing. After several
minutes of silence, he stuck his head back out. “Slayer,
don’t you dare ignore me. Where are you? BUFFY!!”
“And useful too.” Grinning, she cast her eyes lower and
nodded at the wash rag that was still over his manhood.
Now it was hanging limply over his erection instead of
being held there by him. “You just can’t have enough
places to put stuff in the shower.”
Breathing hard, Buffy lifted his head and pulled his hand
away from his mouth. His eyes met hers and she
smiled. “I trust you.”
“I want you to know that I can…”
“All of it.”
“Did you enjoy the show?” Spike eyed him up and down
and shook his head. “Cupid I presume?”
Cupid threw what was left of his cigar in the toilet and
shrugged. “You guys don’t need me to make you fall in
love. You fell all by your lonesomes.”
“That old hag who did it was just jealous that you were
thinking of the Slayer the whole time you were screwing
her. She figured it would punish you more to get a taste
of the Slayer and then never get it again. Bitch’s Brew
feels real enough…but there's nothing to it.” Cupid
yawned and stretched. “She wasn’t planning on you
actually succeeding or the Slayer being so easy and …”
“Watch it.”
Spike leaned over the sink and splashed his face with
cold water. If this was true and he felt love then he was
worse than Angel. He was horrible and a disgrace to
vampires everywhere. It was wrong and vile and he
needed to do something. He quickly dried his face and
opened the bathroom door. The something he needed to
do was actually a someone and she was giggling under
a pile of cover waiting for him.
__
GILES!
She
Wanted
Giles.
“Me too.”
__
Who I Am
An Essay by: Buffy Summers
Introduction to Psychology
Professor Walsh
I suffered loss.
He makes me.
_*_*_*
The End