Chapter 1 - Cemeteries
Wednesday, May 1st, 2002
Spike sat on top of the stone pillar
that supported one of the cemetery gates, watching Buffy's
retreating back. According to her, her friends would
cope with the news that they'd been sleeping together.
She could do anything and they would still love her.
His problem was that he felt the same way about her. That
was why he couldn't help calling after her retreating
back.
"In that case, why won't you sleep with me
again?"
A second vampire, who had just been released
by Spike, turned back from his pursuit of the slayer, stunned
by what he had just heard. He stared at the master vampire,
his jaw hanging open, right up until the point where it turned
to dust and fell to the ground along with the rest of his
body. Buffy had already replaced her stake in her pocket
and was once more walking away from Spike.
"Because I don't love you," she called back,
not even turning her head to acknowledge him.
Spike's eyes all but glowed electric blue
with pain and anger. "Like hell," he retorted, his voice fierce
but quiet enough that his were the only ears it reached.
Thursday, May 2nd, 2002
Spike had stayed away from Buffy the night
after that unpleasant scene. He had been aware of her presence
at a distance a couple of times when she was on patrol. Instead
of moving to intercept her, as he once would have done, he
moved away, doing his best to stay outside the range where
Buffy would normally be aware of him.
Buffy gave up on patrol early that night,
deciding that for some reason the demon population were all
having a peaceful night in, but she was wrong, and one demon
in particular was anything but peaceful. The vampire knew
Buffy's patrol routes so well it was easy for him to sweep
the areas she would visit. He just got there first. His kills
for the night ran to double figures and still his black mood
was with him when he finally returned to his crypt.
Friday, May 3rd, 2002
He was preparing to follow a similar plan
the next evening when the door to his home slammed open at
the slayer's hand. Spike was aware of something flying toward
his head and grabbed it from mid-air before it impacted. He
looked curiously at the equipment in his hand.
"What's this?" he asked, looking up at the
slayer.
"It's a camera."
"Yeah," Spike replied, his tone mildly sarcastic.
"I got that part. Why am I holding it?"
Buffy started her accusatory diatribe. "Someone
was using it to spy on me, on the house. Xander thinks it
might've been you."
Spike's temper got the better of him and
the sarcasm meter hit overload. "Oh, the great Xander thinks
so! Shudder! Gasp! It must be true!"
"Spike-", Buffy tried to interrupt, but the
vampire was too intent on venting his ire.
"That ponce has always had it in for me.
Every chance he gets, he sticks it-" Spike was stopped cold
by the slayer's dubious expression.
"You believe him, don't you? You think I
was spying on you." He became the accuser. He waited for Buffy
to deny the charge, but as seconds passed in silence he continued.
"You think I could do that."
Buffy's anger rose to match his. "Yeah, righteous
indignation is absolutely the way to go here, 'cause you don't
kill or lie or steal or manipulate-"
The vampire's rage flashed from hot to cold
and he placed the camera back in the slayer's hands, his motion
and the words he followed up with deliberate and cool. "I
don't hurt you."
Buffy looked down at the camera, sobered
by the truth in the vampire's words. "I know."
"No," Spike countered, "you don't. I've tried
to make it clear to you, but you won't see it. Something happened
to me. The way I feel... about you. It's different. No matter
how hard you try to convince yourself it isn't, it's real."
Buffy's voice was soft when she replied, as
if the pain her remarks would inflict were proportional to
the volume at which they were uttered. Maybe she enjoyed carving
his heart out and didn't want him to have even a crumb of
comfort from the thought the words were carelessly spoken
in anger. "I think it is... for you."
Spike stared at her aghast. She could have
pulled his intestines out with her bare hands and caused him
less pain.
"I know that's not what you want to hear...
and I'm sorry." It sounded like a lie, even to her own ears. "I
really am. You just... have to move on. You have to—"
Spike was unable to do anything but watch
as she deliberately destroyed his hopes. It might have been
bearable except for her obviously insincere attempts at making
him feel better, despair and rage seething from him until
he couldn't bear it any more.
"Get out," he cut in, using a voice as soft
and dark as black velvet. The slayer hesitated, as if there
were more that she wanted to add, but Spike's gaze was frigid,
the conversation obviously at an end. She left, pulling the
door of the crypt closed behind her.
Spike waited until he heard the door shut
and then stalked over to the chest that held his
supply of hard liquor. He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels
and removed the cork, throwing it across the room. He raised
the bottle to his lips and poured its contents straight down
his throat, thankful that he had no need to breathe. Once
it had time to get into his bloodstream the alcohol left him
mildly tipsy, but he knew the feeling wouldn't last. He started
sorting through the chest and some boxes nearby in a search
for more. He found another bottle with an inch left in the
bottom, single malt that he had been saving for a special occasion. He quickly drained it.
He wanted oblivion. He wanted to forget what
a slayer was, never mind forgetting his slayer and
how he felt about her and how she treated him, but there was no
more alcohol to be found except the beers in the fridge and
his metabolism meant they wouldn't have any significant effect.
He pulled open a cardboard box. There were
candles, crystals, bags of dried herbs, jars of who-knew-what
and books. The vampire pulled out the topmost book and started
looking for a spell that would somehow make him forget the
pain, a numbing spell, a spell to block his memory of her,
anything that would get the job done.
Soon he tossed aside the first book and pulled
out the second. Half-way through he came to a spell that he remembered.
