Chapter Six
Buffy flipped blindly through the channels on the TV., her eyes drifting every so often to the book sitting ominously on the coffee table. Sighing heavily, and shifting her body away from it, she tried again to focus on the pictures flipping by in front of her. After the third time through, she flicked the TV off and tossed to remote onto the cushion next to her. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked at the book again, scowling.
*I am not going to read that* she told herself firmly, standing to go into the kitchen. Two seconds later she was back in the living room, staring at the dusty old tome as if it would suddenly rear up and bite her. *No* she turned again, walking to the refrigerator. When all she encountered was two eggs, a half a jar of strawberry preserves, and a container of yogurt that looked like it had made the move from L.A. to Sunnydale with them, she slammed the door closed. Resting her forehead against the cool metal, she closed her eyes. By the time she had made it home from the Magic Box, she had convinced herself that it didn’t matter what Angel had done in the past. He had a soul now, and THAT was what mattered. Spike was just pissed that she had remembered what a monster he was.
“He changed because he had to. I changed because I wanted to.” Spike’s words drifted back to her, and she groaned aloud. *What the hell am I supposed to do?* she asked herself. Spike was chip free now. The answer should have been simple. But when was anything with Spike EVER simple?
With a sigh of resignation, Buffy turned away from the fridge, and made her way back into the living room. Perching herself on the edge of the couch, she reached out for the book three times before finally allowing her fingers to close around it. Pulling it to her, she settled back into the cushions, drawing her legs up next to her. Running her hands idly across the cover, she debated internally if she really wanted to know. *No, but when has that ever made a difference?*
Taking a deep breath, and squaring her shoulders as if preparing for battle, she opened the cover and flipped to the pages Spike had indicated. The hole in the middle of the spine made some words difficult to make out, but she got the idea. She read until her eyes felt gritty from strain, and still she read on. Tears coursed silently down her face as she discovered just what a monster Angel really had been. Angel had killed anybody and anything. He knew no discrimination. He had even killed the entire family of a demon hunter, raping the wife first and turning the daughter.
When she was finished with Angel, she reread Spike’s. The difference between the two was immense. Whereas Angel killed for sport, Spike killed for survival. Not to say that he hadn’t participated in a blood bath or two. But further reading indicted that it was because Dru’s safety had been compromised. Prague being the worst example of how far he would go to punish the people that had hurt her. He was the only vampire in the book that HADN’T killed his own family (save Dru, but that was because Angel had taken care of that for her.) From what she could tell, the only reason Spike was in this book was because he had killed two Slayers. In the demon community that demanded a respect equal to nothing in the human world. Especially since he had sought them out. The other demons that had managed to have one good day, had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not Spike, he had looked for them. In a way, it made sense. Spike always liked a good fight. What was it he said, the night that they had taken down Glory? “Always knew I would go down fighting.” Or something to that affect. He would feel that anything other than a fight to the death would be a pitiful way to die. And who better to fight than a Slayer? Who better to take down the baddest of the Big Bad than the Chosen one?
Before she knew it, Buffy was through the whole book. Tapping her fingers against the cover, she looked around the room. Suddenly, she felt the need to know more about the creatures she hunted every night. And not just the Watcher’s Councils version. Turning her head, her eyes came in contact with Willows’ computer set up on the dining room table. Placing the book on the table, she strode to it. Turning it on, she went into the kitchen to get herself something to drink. She returned a moment later, a glass of soda in her hand. Once it was booted up, she signed onto the Internet, not sure if she would even find anything. As soon as the search screen came up, she quickly typed the word that had changed her life.
VAMPIRE.
~*~*~
Soundlessly, Spike staled through the cemetery, hoping to encounter something to kill.
*Stupid little chit* he growled inwardly, the image of Buffy’s pale face and wide eyes swimming through his mind. *Fuck.* He hadn’t meant to tell her like that. Had hoped to develop a level of trust between them before he had to. But, she HAD to read that bloody book. The accusation and distrust written all over her face had nearly done him in. He’d resisted all urges to turn into a babbling idiot and had managed to keep hold of his pride. He wasn’t going to snivel, or cry, or beg for forgiveness for what he had done. He was a vampire. Killing came part and parcel with the whole night creature bit. But, the past couple of years of being around the Scoobies ad given him a new perspective.
When he had emerged from the doctors office, newly chip free, he hadn’t wanted to try out his newly regained bite. That wasn’t why he had done it. Life wasn’t about blood and destruction any more. (Okay, it still had to be about blood, but not fresh from the tap, so to speak.) Even before it had come out, whenever he tried to fantasize about killing, the random person would morph into one of the Slayerettes. More often than not it would be Dawn or Buffy. But, occasionally, it would turn into one of the others. Even Xander.
After the first time it had happened, he had cursed and screamed. Sid had cowered in the lower level of the crypt, while Spike had systematically torn apart the top. Eventually, he had accepted that his days at the top of the food chain were over. Then finally, with their acceptance of him after Glory, the thought of doing it all had completely fled his mind.
As his memories drifted to that night, his heart clenched. He had pushed Doc off the tower before he had cut Dawn. Just as he was releasing her, Buffy had emerged at the top, the look of gratitude she gave him caused his undead heart to contract once (or at least he liked to think so). Together, they had gotten Dawn off the rickety tower, joining the rest of the Scoobies on the ground. He had stood, just of the outside of the circle of friends as they hugged and cried. Feeling a little out of place, he had turned to leave, only to be called back by the Slayer. When he had turned to face them again, he saw her outstretched hand, the look on her face telling him ‘you belong’. With a look of pure awe, he had reached out to take it, her warm fingers clasping around his cool ones. He had moved into the circle, ignoring the disgust rolling off Xander (he and that boy would never get along), returned the grudging respect from the Watcher, and basked in the warmth the women had bestowed on him. That was the night he realized he was truly home.
He growled again, the sound disturbing the crows sitting on a headstone to his left. Tonight, Buffy, hater of all things related to research, decides to crack open a book. He snorted as he fished through his pockets for his cigarettes. That girl was going to drive him crazy. She was going to succeed where a hundred or so years with Dru hadn’t. Pausing to light his smoke, a scent drifted to him on the air. Closing his eyes as he took a deep drag, his head hung low in resignation.
*Not again* was all he thought as he let the smell lead him to the cause. He didn’t hurry this time, knowing that what he would find would somehow make things click in his brain, And he wasn’t sure he wanted that. His brows drew together as he neared his crypt, stopping to determine if it was coming from inside his home. Relieved that it wasn’t, he still wasn’t pleased that it was so close. Rounding the back, he stopped short, his entire body stiff as he took in the little message that was left for him.
The girl was impaled on a tree this time, spikes through the shoulders taking the place of stakes. A cross hung low between the remains of her breasts, one side dipping into the incision down her torso. The culprit had only attacked her upper torso this time, or so Spike thought. At that moment, the moon moved from behind the clouds, allowing his yellows eyes to see even more clearly. Her mouth was frozen in that Mona Lisa smile again, but that wasn’t the worst thing about her face. Where her eyes should have been, empty sockets stared back at him. *See no evil* He didn’t know what made him think of it, but something about the wide open eyes with nothing there brought it to mind. He took in the color of her hair, and the size of her body, and just as he suspected, things started to click.
The sudden whine from next to him made him jump, and he looked around to make sure that nobody had seen him.
“Hey, Sid.” he said to the dog. Sid looked from him to the body on the tree, and whined again. “Yeah, I feel the same way.” He told him, digging into his pocket for his cell. Trying to hide his accent as much as possible, he called the police. Hanging up before they could ask for his name and address, he went to the crypt to collect some of his things. The cops would be milling around here for who knew how long, not to mention that they would probably search the surrounding area, finding that somebody had taken up residence not ten feet from the body. He wanted to be long gone before that happened,
Working quickly, he grabbed what he could, than turned to leave, casting one last look around the place that had been his home for the better part of two years. Calling Sid, he walked out into the night, determined to go see Buffy once more. Whether she wanted to or not, they had to talk.
~*~*~
Pacing restlessly across the floor, he kept turning his eyes to the computer screen. Several hours had passed since he had left his present, and she still hadn’t come upstairs to get it. It had been thrilling, sneaking into her house while she was home. Knowing that any second she could walk upstairs and he would be discovered. Then he had come home, waiting patiently for her to find her gift. He wondered what she could be doing downstairs for so long. Maybe he should have placed cameras through the rest of the house, too. She was probably just downstairs watching t.v. Nothing to worry about. Really.
*There is no chance that Spike is there.* he thought with a grin. Maybe that’s what was going on. Maybe she had found his gift while he had been on his way home, and she was out dusting the blond pest this very moment. That image pleased him immensely as he envisioned the vampire’s look of shock as her stake hit home. Then she would dust her hands, as she had done every time she did just this, than go home, without a backwards glance.
Yes, he decided, this is what was happening. A whimper from the bed drew him out of his thoughts, and he turned to look at his guest.
“Tell me something.” he started, looking at the figure. “What is it with women?” His tone was conversational, his posture casual as he asked this. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I mean, WHY do they think with their cunt and not their brains? All your kind ever seems to do is choose the wrong man, the one that will hurt you in the end. Or, you throw away good ones because they aren’t ‘exciting’.” He paused to consider, staring blindly at the wall. “You’re always looking for the next best thing, never content with what you have. None of you. My mother was like that. Bitch.” he spat. “Always telling my father what a loser he was.” A sinister smile curled his lip, making his guest whimper yet again. He moved towards her now, his nude body illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. His company started to squirm on the bed at the sight.
“See what I mean? Look at you, writhing around like a bitch in heat.” He shook his head in disgust, the bed creaking as he mounted her. Her squirming increased as he plunged into her, her scream muffled by the tape across her mouth.
“Slut.” He ground out through clenched teeth. She yanked against her bonds, blood seeping from the newly reopened wounds. Pain lanced through her, and she finally just went limp. A few seconds later, he grunted in climax, his pelvic bone bruising hers as he slammed into her the final time.
Rolling away from her, he immediately walked to the bathroom, so he could wash the stink of her off. The woman on the bed closed her eyes, revolted by the feel of his cum sliding out of her to pool on the bed. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she felt the last of her hope die in her heart.
~*~*~
Rubbing a hand over her tired eyes, Buffy again focused on the screen in front of her. She had been overwhelmed by the amount of sights that had been listed in reference to vampires. Of course, most of them had to do with movies, books, or cults. She had gotten frustrated quickly, but she kept trudging through, her eyes growing blurrier with each second. Finally, after much pointing and clicking, and not staying on any one sight more than a few seconds, she came across something. It was a tiny little caption, nothing distinctive about it all. The word vampire was written in lower case letters, and their was no description under the link. But something pulled her there. Her eyes widened comically after she clicked on it. Before her eyes was a search engine. A rather large search engine. The background was white, and the lettering purple. It wasn’t flashy or elaborate. It just listed everything in an index on the side, which apparently led you to different areas for research. Everything she could ever want to know about anything supernatural was laid out before her.
Scrolling quickly through the index, she clicked on vampires-myth, legend, lies and truths. It took a full minute for the page to load, and she had almost given up by the time it popped up in front of her. Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she began to read, learning more than she ever wanted to know about vampire mating rituals, clan hierarchies, and the complexities of childe/sire bonds. She was stunned to learn that Spike was not the first vampire to fall in love with a slayer. She didn’t know what bothered her more, the fact that whoever built this sight knew that, or the fact that this person knew what a slayer was.
She was also stunned to learn that her foresisters weren’t as opposed to the idea of mating with a soulless vamp as she was. Or as she had been. She didn’t know what she was anymore. Several had chosen vampire lovers, in the days before the Watcher’s Council was created. Afterwards, it didn’t happen very often, and the Watcher usually staked the vamp, believing that his Slayer was enthralled. But the fact that it had happened, knocked her world completely on its ass.
The Slayers who had vampire mates B.C. (before Council) lived well beyond the current age expectancy. The vampires they were mated to had completely jumped sides, fighting beside their partners until death did them part.
*Is this for real* she thought to herself, not really wanting to believe it. She searched the sight for one of those ‘contact me’ buttons, but couldn’t find one. Not knowing what to believe, she book marked the sight, and logged off, needing to give her tired brain a rest. To much sensory over load over the past couple of days was going to do her in, if she didn’t rest. Stretching, she turned off the computer. She’d have to tell Giles about the sight. Willow would be smug, she thought with a smile. She was always telling Giles that they had more uses than collecting dust. If this sight was for real, then they could use it in addition to his precious books.
Walking upstairs, Buffy pushed all thoughts of vampires, slayers and dead bodies away. All she wanted to think of now was a bubble bath and bed. With the promise of hot water and cool sheets, she pushed open her door and stepped inside. Flicking on the light, she turned towards the bed, her eyes falling onto the spread. She stopped short when she saw a package sitting in the middle of the bed. Letting out an annoyed sigh, she traversed the length of carpet and snatched it off the bed.
*Spike certainly doesn’t know when to back off, does he?* she said to herself. Yanking the bow away, and pulling off the lid, she gasped when she saw what was inside. Inside was a freshly whittled stake, it’s surface cured to a dark, blonde color. Sliding it into her palm, she tested it’s weight, liking the way it felt in her hand. She felt something rough against her palm, and she turned the smooth wood over. There, in beautifully sculpted letters, was Spike’s name. Buffy felt a giggle explode from her chest.
She’d always said she had a stake with his name on it, and now, she really did. Her giggle turned into a laugh as she pondered the sick sense of humor Spike had.