Chapter 13: …Almost
Shocked, Buffy stared at Spike. Her mind refused to understand what he was saying.
“Wrong?” she repeated.
He took one more step away from her, and her heart broke as he replied, his voice as gentle as his words were harsh: “You said it yourself more than once. You and I together, that’s just wrong. I am a monster. We both know it, Buffy, even if you pretend to ignore it. Even if you treat me like a man.”
His voice faltered, and she instinctively knew why. A few hours after he had said these very words for the first time, she had died.
“I know you love me,” she pleaded, “and I love you too. I don’t care that you.”
“I care.” He interrupted her. “You deserve more, luv. Much more than I could ever give you. That’s why I can’t be with you like that. You need to find someone who will take care of you in the sun. All I can do is protect you in the darkness.”
She blinked several times, not believing her own ears. Not again!
“You talked to Angel?! I don’t know what stupid notions he put in your head, but you can forget all he said right now!”
It was his turn to stare at her. So far, he had talked extremely gently, as if one word too high would break her like fragile porcelain. But now, is voice was steel. “Angel. Always back to Angel, aren’t we luv? I haven’t talked to the sodding poof for a longer time than I care to remember. And I don’t plan to ever talk to him again if I can prevent it. You, on the other hand. Tell me Slayer, did you pretend it was him when you kissed me? Your pet vampire with a soul?”
She could only shake her head, her throat struggling not to let out the sobs she felt rising in her chest.
“It’s not me you love,” he spat. “It’s the soul. It’s the part of me that is like him. That just makes it all even more wrong.”
If he had been shouting, she would have reacted. She would have shouted back, probably, or slapped him, or maybe even beat some sense into him. Or maybe not. she was done with beating him. too much of that already.
But he was calm, calmer than she had ever seen him as he talked about love, Angel, or his soul. So she just watched as he turned and walked away into the night.
Watched and cried.
All night long, until right before dawn, Spike hunted, leaving only dust and ashes behind him. His preys were easy, too easy. He would have given the world for an adversary worthy of him. Yet, he knew that, at that moment, with cold fury running through his veins, only one person in Sunnyhell had a chance against him in a fight one on one. And right now, she was the last thing he wanted to think about. Why did she have to shatter his resolve like that? The girl was dangerous. She could drive a man to insanity. And he knew a lot about insanity, he had been dealing with it daily for a hundred years, give or take a few. Why did she have to say that? Why now, when he had everything so nicely planned out for her? Damn her. Damn him and his plans. Would something ever work the way he wanted it to? He couldn’t remember the last time one of his plans had actually been a success. He was cursed, there was no way otherwise that everything would go so wrong all the time.
He was angry with himself. For a second, back there, he had almost accepted her words, almost believed them, almost forgotten his decisions and allowed her to give him the greatest gift. How could he have been so blind? It wasn’t Spike she had been taking on patrol every night. It wasn’t Spike she had been seeing. It wasn’t Spike she loved. It was the bloody Vampire with a bloody Soul. It was Angel. It had always been Angel. She had as good as admitted it when she said his name. Bloody hell.
Unwanted, a song was playing in his head. To occupy his mind and take his thoughts away from the Slayer, he forced himself to translate the French words to English. It worked for a few minutes, however soon he was left with nothing but the Slayer dancing in his mind.
I listed the things we won’t be anymore
When you dance
But what do lost lovers become?
When you dance, do you dream about it?
Not friends, not lovers, not strangers either
When you dance
But what comes after belonging to the other?
When you dance, do you dream about it?
I think I would need to see you
When you dance
Not talk, not disturb, just see you
When you dance, do you dream about it?
And all the pains, all, for just one of our minutes
When you dance
But to be nothing, after so much, it’s not fair
When you dance, do you dream about it?
I listed the things we won’t be anymore
But what do desperate loves become?
When you dance, do you dream about it?
A/N: Song by JJ Goldman, translation by me, Quand tu danses / When you dance