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part ten - venom

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Buffy was still in the exact same position she'd been in for the fifteen minutes since he'd left. She feared that her mind had just been completely devastated. After all, Spike had just left. Spike, the one that kept coming back to Sunnydale because of her -- and she knew he'd come back because of her, so there was no denying it, and she wasn't being vain. No one could hate their mortal enemy so much that they would keep coming back and getting their asses repeatedly kicked.

Then again, when had Spike ever been the typical mortal enemy?

Anyway, she'd been in her own little world, still trying desperately to believe that Spike had not just walked out, and that she was just dreaming a really bad dream, so it was just natural that she jumped nearly three feet off the stool only to fall flat on her ass when the door to the kitchen was jerked open.

She turned and stared wide-eyed when Spike entered, Clem following behind docilely and munching on some chips.

She stood up and watched him quietly, triumphant in her efforts to remain cool and aloof, never mind her success at not throwing herself at him, kissing, apologizing and begging him to give her another chance. Years of hiding her pain and fear behind a blank stare and, more often, anger had made her the perfect little actress and she was pleased to see Spike nervously shifting at her glare.

"Spike. You're back," she said frowning, as if admonishing him for daring to re-enter her home. Her eyebrows drew themselves together, and her eyes narrowed. "I thought you couldn't bear to be around me," she added snidely, smiling to herself when Spike winced.

Spike, meanwhile, sighed. He'd known what reception he'd receive the minute he'd seen his decimated crypt. Buffy was really the only person he could have gone to for help. The demon community wanted to kill him, save for Clem and the kitten poker group. The human persuasion wasn't much better -- well, the butcher was probably the only person that counted anyway, next to Jake, the guy that had temporarily taken over Willy's job at the Alibi Room when the dirty, sneaky little weasel had gotten into trouble with his underground dealings. Both men were fully aware of his vampire status, as well as the current not so evilness of him, but neither would avidly offer him and Clem room and board together.

Tara, unfortunately -- and here Spike's heart gave a sad twinge -- was out of the question, though he felt sure that the sweet little Wicca would have opened her home to Spike and Clem without question, had she still been among them.

Harris hated him, and while Mr. Flabby had taken somewhat of a liking to Clem, if Spike was a part of the package I-need-a-home deal, they'd be rejected in an instant. No matter what Dawn told the carpenter about Spike, the little bastard was too much of a hard-headed, biased pretentious prat to ever allow something as innocuous as friendship occur between them. Spike and Xander had a common bond and it was called seething hatred -- Xander, because of what Spike was, and Spike because of what Xander would only let him be.

There was Anya, but recent memories made that thought derail quickly. Though she would be the most accepting of two more demons into her midst, Demon-Girl was a definite no-no, especially considering the circumstances between her and Spike. Wasn't it enough that Spike had killed Buffy's spirit with that tryst, but that he'd embarrassed himself and Anya with the whole group watching as they took their grief out on each other?

Damn it.

Unfortunately for Spike, the next two choices -- Rupert and Willow -- were null and void as both currently had clemency, living with the object of his affections.

So the only one left was Buffy -- who was going to kill him. He was really dreading imposing on her, especially now after his little 'I can't wait forever' speech.

Or, hey, maybe she'd at least hold off bodily torture. She didn't yet know why he'd come back, and besides, she liked Clem. If she allowed Clem to stay, then she had to allow Spike to stay, too, since Clem would be happier that way. His Bit would put up a hellacious raucous if she found out that Buffy had tried to keep her away from Spike again. And he was positive that Red would need a good bit of support, and a good while away from the well-meaning but otherwise completely insane Watcher, too. Not to mention that Giles would love not having to hunt Spike down during the mornings, or waiting until evenings to study the blond vampire like a lab rat. So really, things were four to one in his favor.

Okay, so maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but it was worth a bloody try.

He looked up at Buffy and took a deep breath. "Somebody destroyed the crypt," he said.

At once, Buffy's eyes widened, and her Slayer half came on alert. Destruction of property had apparently become her specialty. "What? How? Who did it, do you know?"

Spike shook his head, looking towards Clem. "Clem's the one that told me."

The wrinkly demon nodded his head, his lips -- or at least where his lips should have been -- covered in the orange cheesy dusting from the Doritos. "Came back from the market, and there it was -- the whole thing, completely levelled. Didn't see anybody around, but whoever it was did a real number on it. All that stone and stuff, everything from the inside out? It's all just dust now. Not even the basement-room survived."

Spike turned back to Buffy and gave her a wry half-smile. "Guess who's homeless, Buff."

Buffy frowned. Well that sucked. She usually couldn't stand the crypt -- except for the basement and the memories of what had usually gone on down there was most definitely giving her the warm-fuzzies -- but she hadn't wanted the damned place demolished.

And poor Clem and Spike! Wait, no, not poor Spike, she was mad at him. But poor Clem! He was homeless now, and unfortunately, so was Spike, and -- oh, no, no, no. That was why he'd come back. Spike thought he could get a freebie with the Head of House since he'd actively participated in banging her last year. She scowled at him. Figures. She’d thought he'd changed, but the smug bastard was just as sneaky and conniving as he usually was, of course, and naturally he was going to try to persuade her with that lazy, pleading, sloe-eyed gaze of his and --

Damn it.

She really hated those stupid eyes.

Grudgingly, she sighed and swept her arm behind her. "Why don't you two stay here for a while," she offered sarcastically.

Spike tried as hard as he could not to smile. "Oh, no, Slayer, we couldn't impose, we just stopped by to let you know that I -- or we -- have got ourselves a new enemy and --"

Buffy scowled. "Spike, shut up and come inside, would you? Come on in, Clem," she added kindly to the other demon, who had been watching Buffy and Spike's verbal clash with his head swivelling back and forth between them as though he was watching a tennis match.

Clem trotted happily inside. Who was he to argue where he stayed? So long as they had a TV and those nifty little Fritos scoop things, he was happy.

Spike followed at a slower pace, his smile disappearing as his handsome face became more serious. Standing in front of Buffy, he gently took her hand and bent down slightly to look her in the face. "Thanks for this, Buffy. Really. I don't mean to do this to you, but I just..." Spike paused, biting his lower lip, then continued. "I don't have anywhere else to go." He looked past her at Clem. "Neither does he. We need a place, and we didn't really have a lot of choices. I just hope things won't be awkward between us...?" he trailed off, gazing at her uncertainly.

Oh, yes, she really hated those eyes. She bit her lower lip and shook her head sadly, giving his hand a squeeze. "No, Spike. It's no problem at all."

Spike smiled at her a bit, then leaned forward and gave her a tentative kiss on the forehead. Leaning back, he chucked her gently under the chin -- a father-like gesture that shocked the hell out of her since it came from Spike -- and sighed. "Thanks, luv. I really appreciate this."

He turned and walked out of the room without another word, presumably heading to the living room to crash on the couch.

"No problem," she whispered when he was out of the room. Buffy's shoulders slumped brokenly, her hope wilting in despair, and she blinked back the bitter sting of her tears. He really must have gotten over her. He'd gone from giving her looks of love and longing, to chucking her under the chin and giving her forehead kisses.

And it was her fault, because she hadn't spoken up and told him that she wanted more -- that she wanted him.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubbed her shoulders and walked to the living room. Her eyes settled on the two new additions to the household, Spike stretched out on the couch, shirtless and just settling in, and Clem curled up on the floor like a dog, surrounded and sleeping on so many pillows that it looked like a failed attempt at a pillow fortress. She smiled slightly at the sight. Whenever Clem snored, his teeth showed, and he let out a soft growl right along with it -- though he looked as harmless as a puppy, he seemed to be Spike's guard dog.

Frowning, she looked up to see that the curtains were still open -- something extremely careless from Spike. She had just gotten him back (even though she didn't really have him) and she wasn't going to lose him because the damn curtains hadn't been drawn. Stepping around Fluffy Guard Dog Clem—and being equally careful not to get her legs anywhere near those damn sharp teeth—she leaned across Spike and drew the curtains shut, pausing only once when she saw a flash of gold. Frowning, she peered into the darkness more closely and, seeing nothing, pulled back. She looked down at Spike and sighed, then leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight, love," she murmured softly before turning and heading toward the stairs. She snorted to herself, shaking her head. "No problem at all... pfft. Yeah, right."

As she walked up the stairs, Spike turned onto his back and watched her tiny figure silently, a tired, gentle smile crossing his lips. Yawning, he snuggled back into the fluffy cushions and let his eyes close.

---

The Dark One watched as the blonde head appeared, glancing out the window. Snarling slightly to herself in disgust, she only just noticed when her own eyes flashed a brilliant yellow-gold before she blinked – and the effect disappeared. Instead, shaking her black mane furiously, she seethed when the blonde leaned closer to peer outside, then closed the drapes when she apparently saw nothing.

Turning away when she was in the clear, she transformed, loping across the yard, her thin agile body moving with the grace of the shape she had taken -- a leopard. She was very, very close to releasing all of her built-up aggression, but sadly, there was no one in sight to take it out on.

When she was two blocks away, she took her human form again, snarling to herself and leaning back against a tree. So... that was the little strumpet that had destroyed her darling boy's love of destruction. She could hardly see what the big fuss was all about. Unfortunately, she knew full well that there was a great to-do about her, because the Slayer-Bitch had managed to bring three incredibly powerful Masters to their knees, and she meant to discover everything she could about the girl. Angelus had been absolutely useless when it had come to her, when one considered that his souled half had loved her, perhaps to the point of obsession, and his uninhibited half had despised that love. She herself thought it was incredibly pathetic. The once powerful patriarch of Aurelius' traveling clan had been reduced to a meek, love sick little puppy. And he hadn't exactly been that pleasing without that blasted soul, either. It had been one thing to leave him be when he’d first received the soul. At first, he’d still been trying to please his Sire. Then, Darla had left him and he’d been content to let the evil of the world pass him by. The Dark One had been content to leave him alone because he had just been a pathetic little rodent, feasting on other little rodents – evil happened around him, and Angelus had not done a thing to stop it, so while he was not contributing to it, he wasn’t stopping it, either.

And then the stupid bastard had gone to Los Angeles on a so-called “message” from the Powers That Be. He had been happy enough to let the world pass him by but the second he’d seen that vapid little piece of jailbait, he’d gone tearing down the “righteous” path so fast, he hadn’t even stopped to consider that his love for the dumb bint would lead him no where.

Of course, she’d had to amend that thought when Angelus had fucked the Slayer, and she’d freed his demon, but it had still ended up bad all around, and the ignorant dip was still in Los Angeles, pining away over his so-called lost love.

Dracula had been another matter. It had been a given that there would be some awe when he'd introduced himself to the Slayer. Unfortunately, before she could get to him and convince him that killing the Slayer was for everyone's own good, he'd been recruited by those little monk twits to capture a mere pint of her blood. All so they could pull one over on a hell goddess of all things. She shuddered in disgust.

Dracula hadn't thought anything of it, and had just done the job (although she'd heard that he'd attempted to seduce the girl and failed), but the problem with the Count was that he'd heard of the Slayer. Her name had been whispered in the demon underground for six years since she'd accepted her status from that heavy-set old man in Los Angeles. And to say that Dracula hadn't been as awestruck as the Slayer had been with him would be a great lie. This Californian Slayer had been the only woman to ever reject his seductive vampiric advances, as well as the only one to completely throw off his thrall, and though it had angered him beyond belief, the Slayer had won a great measure of respect in Dracula's eyes after that.

Disgusting.

She'd had such high hopes for Spike. Though she'd been a thousand miles away at the time, she had connected to his mind, and saw things as he'd seen them. That was the main reason why the Dark One had adamantly ignored all the lustful gazes he'd given the Slayer when they'd first met, overlooked the hunger they'd had after each fight that had left the other panting in sexual near-desperation. She'd purposely neglected to notice the longing in Spike's eyes after the red-haired witch had broken a will-be-done spell and he and the Slayer had returned to normal. The desperate longing had been carefully but painfully hidden when the Slayer had come to her senses and had acted as a good Slayer should at the touch of her enemy -- with undisguised abhorrence. She'd even disregarded, and had been prepared to forgive Spike for that pathetic attempt of his to destroy the Slayer quartet with Mr. Bits-And-Pieces -- and she'd been exceptionally reasonable in forgiving that last attempt of his to redeem himself with the group by killing the demon that had gone after the Slayer's puppies.

All would have been well -- until he'd had that dream.

She snarled furiously, spinning and kicking an enormous Mack truck-sized hole into a neighbour’s wall. In love! With a human! How... embarrassing, and disgusting. Her sweet, vicious Spike was in love with a human. And was it just any human? No -- he'd fallen in love with the Slayer!

She was going to have to work very hard to correct this great lapse in her boy's common sense. And -- she glanced down at her curvy, hour-glass shaped body, smirking proudly -- she decided that she would attempt the infiltration of the Slayer's home while she was at it.

Returning Spike to his once glorious self -- and permanently putting the Slayer, and her family, out of action for good -- yes, those were her primary goals.

Two birds. One stone.

Delicious.

---

Buffy had spent all morning surrounded by lunatics.

Giles, who was normally the calm and collected one of the group, had gone absolutely bonkers with joy when he'd heard that Spike and Clem would be staying at the Summers' house -- it meant easy access to the revolutionary vampire. Once that gleam had entered Giles' eyes -- the predatory 'I've got a research mission, yay!' look she knew so well -- Spike's eyes had gone wide with alarm and he'd booked it out of the room, barricading himself -- and unknowingly (at the time) Dawn -- inside of Buffy's room. Giles had marched straight upstairs, demanding that Spike come out at once, or at the very least allow Buffy's sneaky clothes-thief of a sister out. Spike had cautiously cracked the door open to allow Dawn an escape, only to yelp in a very Xander-like fashion when Giles forced the door open with the toe of his shoe. As a direct result, Spike had led Giles on a merry chase around the house all day, trying to escape what he knew was going to be a barrage of questions about his soul. Buffy had found herself wondering when exactly it was that Giles had gone from Psychotic Research Guy to just plain Psychotic.

Willow, on the other hand, had reacted with a calm cool that Buffy hadn't known was in her -- apparently, Wills had been remembering her time with Oz, and was channelling his unruffled persona for the time being. Which in itself was just creepy.

Anya had arrived at the house about an hour before lunchtime and had shaken Clem's hand before looking at Spike (who at that moment had been given a reprieve from Giles) and -- incredibly -- flushing in embarrassment.

And finally, Xander had come over at the end of the day, and had been about to raise the standard Almighty Uproar until he'd seen Buffy's face. Then he'd sheepishly backed down, wiggled his fingers in a mocking ‘hello,’ and sat down in front of the television.

And all Buffy had wanted to do was just crawl under her covers and die. Or at least throw herself down on her bed and have one really long, really good sob-session, followed by a gallon of Ben & Jerry's.

She'd been kicking herself for her stupidity regarding the Spike situation all morning, so much so that even looking at him twisted her heart to pieces. She had really pulled the wrong one this time. And now she felt like the little lost lamb that stupid romance novels always talked about. She had a feeling that she was now living what Spike had been through ever since he'd realized he'd loved her, and it was pretty much breaking her apart. God, how had he put up with her for so long? She loved him so why couldn't she have just told him that? Why the hell did she have to be Stupid!Stubborn!Buffy all the damn time?

She knew why. She had told herself that nobody else was going to put Spike down, not now, not when she finally loved him, and she'd told herself that she wasn't going to listen to anyone else's opinions anymore, and she would think for herself. But the problem was that she actually had to work at that -- after all, you couldn't just snap your fingers and say, "I'm reasonable today!" and expect to be that way. After years of putting him down and one particularly horrible year that had just barely succeeded in breaking him, it was difficult to accomplish. Her friends' and Giles's opinions were still effecting her, and quite frankly she needed to screw up all the courage in the world to get them to leave her and her love life the hell alone.

If that was the case, then she should be kicking herself even more right now. Damn it, why hadn't she asked Spike for a little more time?

To borrow a Spike-ism -- bugger it all.

After three days, Dawn was still (literally) bouncing all around in leftover giddiness at the news of Spike's new stomping grounds, until Buffy had pleaded with her to tone it down -- which for Dawn meant to revert to squealing. But it was when Buffy was being dragged down the sidewalk by an extremely ecstatic Dawn the next night—Spike following behind, rather sedate in his humour—that they saw the giant hole in Mrs. Reubens' solid brick wall.

Apparently, not so solid anymore. And for some reason, that was all it took to calm Dawn down.

"Damn," Spike muttered below his breath, letting out a low whistle. "Someone get happy with a wreckin’ ball? Where's Harris? Maybe he'll explain."

Buffy paused in her frowning for a moment to give Spike an odd look, which Spike returned with a smirk, then shook her head and stared back at the wall. How she had not even noticed it this morning was beyond her, since she passed the damned place every day when she went to work.

Huh. This explained why all the police had been swarming around, topped off with Mrs. Reubens' shrieks of vandalism. For a second, Buffy wondered if she shouldn't leave town until the wall was fixed -- the Sunnydale Police had had it in for her ever since the last explosion that she'd caused while on the job, and her record with them wasn't exactly stellar to begin with since they'd accused her of murdering Kendra.

Moving closer, but not before shaking her grip out of Dawn's magneto pull, she lightly touched the edge of the wall still intact from whatever had demolished the rest of it. What the hell could have done this with the force of a wrecking ball, besides a demon? Unless Spike was right, and Xander had gotten a little carried away -- he couldn't hit Spike, so he took it out on the wall.

Yeah, not even Xander was into the property destruction thing so much. That was all Buffy, Spike, and Willow.

But what if something evil had done this? She shuddered at even the thought of coming face to face with the type of strength that could just kick a hole in a wall like it was nothing. Hell, she'd been sore for two weeks after just one fight with Glory.

Buffy's eyes widened. Oh... shit. "Noooo," she whined. "It's too early for apocalypse season! It's only November!"

Spike raised his eyebrows as Dawn's eyes widened. "You think that something caused this besides a crash-happy construction crew?" the teenager asked.

Spike looked at her. "'S really the only plausible explanation. A construction crew doesn' have any reason to knock a bloody twelve foot hole in someone's wall." Spike glanced at Buffy, nodding graciously. "Apocalypse, it is."

A strangled whimper escaped her throat. "Stupid Sunnydale. Stupid Forces of Evil that won't give me a holiday."

Spike chuckled to himself as Dawn moved toward her sister and mockingly patted her shoulder. Buffy raised her head from her self-indulging misery to give Dawn one good glare before pouting again.

Spike sighed at her petulance as he approached the holey brick wall. Buffy had been weaving in and out of moods all day, and once again, he knew it was his fault. She had said she was fine with his being over her -- like he actually was over her, like that actually meant anything these days! -- but once again, Buffy hadn't counted on the fact that Spike seemed able to read minds. Or if not read minds, then read feelings.

She'd been hurt.

He didn't bloody like it, but if the infuriating little wench would just step up and admit to what he already knew, he'd go trotting back to her like the sodding lapdog he knew he was. He'd take anything she threw at him, if she just admitted some semblance of feelings for him. But no, Miss Buffy had to be stubborn, and Miss Buffy had to be the leader and not let her feelings get in the way, even though she knew damn well that she could only get stronger if she had Spike right there by her side.

But no. This was Buffy's decision, and -- as much as it was driving him absolutely bloody insane to watch her be miserable and not comfort or touch her -- Buffy had to work things out on her own.

He grinned to himself. But maybe a little persuasion couldn't hurt. Jealousy was usually ripe this time of year...

Since they couldn't really do anything about the gaping maw in Mrs. Reubens' wall except gaze at it slack-jawed and wonder what sort of big nasty could be running rampant in Sunnydale this year, they continued on soberly to the cemetery for a quick patrol. Six vamps altogether that night, with Dawn only needing to be saved three times -- once by Buffy, once by Spike, and once by ducking and letting the master of fledgling stupidity that was following her run smack into a mausoleum wall. Naturally, she was eternally grateful to the wall, while bitchy and petulant toward Spike and Buffy.

Afterwards, Bitchy!Petulant!Dawn retreated when her pseudo parents treated her to a mini-Bronze night.

Of course, as usual, none of them had anticipated the likelihood of future troubles infiltrating their little group with such ease.

Spike had been at the bar, nursing a beer and watching Buffy and Dawn twist and giggle -- he really wasn't much for dancing, but god could his girl move! If she'd just walk over this way and give him that shy little smile that he loved so damn much...

"Hello."

Spike jumped, startled. Turning, he shook his head, sighing to himself. The voice belonged to a woman. It starts, he thought. Well, so much for vamp reflexes.

He turned to tell the woman -- whoever the hell she was -- to sod the hell off and that he was more interested in being alone... but something captured him and compelled him to close his mouth and gaze at her stupidly.

She was the epitome of beauty. Bright green eyes beneath dark, thick lashes seemed to saturate the room, and locks of beautiful thick black hair fell to just below her backside. Pink, perfectly shaped lips pouted out at him, placed below a well-defined aristocratic nose. A strong, sensual neck gave way to slim shoulders, which arched into big, full, round, straining breasts, hidden beneath a black tank top. A tiny waist and rounded hips curved down to strong, shapely thighs, covered in red leather pants. She could give a bloke a helluva ride with that body.

Too bad she didn't do anything for him.

But then, Buffy didn't have to know that... His eyes flickered to the dance floor, where Buffy and Dawn were still living it up. Buffy had been peering over Dawn's shoulder every so often when she thought her sister wasn't looking, all her efforts straining toward Spike. And seeing a beautiful, luscious brunette hitting him up was obviously not what she had anticipated. Though it pained him deeply to throw this sort of thing in her face, it also did Spike's heart a whole world of good to see that beneath her California girl tan, Buffy was going pale, and the hurt that invaded her usually stony features blossomed out for all the world to see. Especially when considering the way Buffy had treated him last year, even just standing there with another woman made his chest swell with the fact that maybe his Slayer actually did care.

Unfortunately, the sight of Dawn stopping and frantically asking her sister what was wrong, then turning around and spotting the black-haired woman hovering around him was not a good thing. He watched Dawn's lips tighten as she folded her arms, all the while thinking, Oh, I'm in a world of trouble now...

A thought that was coldly pushed away when Spike saw Buffy build up her wall again, ignoring his existence and continuing to dance. Spike growled to himself. So that's how we're gonna play the game, are we? Right then. Buffy would kick herself for trying to out-do the Master -- literally.

He turned his attention to the lovely brunette chit standing next to him and smiled invitingly. "'Ello, luv," he said softly. "Who might you be?"

The plush pink lips curved into a hungry smile.

---

All too easy. It hadn't even taken her much more than a hello to break past Spike's outer walls. Oh, sure, she'd seen the way he'd glanced at his little Vampire Slayer, as though asking permission from the ditz to speak to another female, and she realized full-well that Spike planned to use her as a pawn in a little lover's game to make the Slayer jealous... But she could work around that.

Besides, if she played her cards right, she just might get the invitation into the Slayer's house -- the one she needed to completely destroy the bitch's life. The way things were going, Spike looked as if he'd do anything to see if his precious Slayer would cause a commotion over him.

Anyway, her darling child was a handsome, feisty one. Any woman -- living, dead, or demonic -- would kill to get a precious few hours alone with him.

Maybe it was the accent.

She smiled smugly to herself when Spike tumbled right for her. A sexy smile, and a purring growl coloured his greeting. "'Ello, luv. Who might you be?"

Her own sexy smirk crossed her lips and she pressed closer to her little boy. Her tongue darted out, caressing her lips in such sensuality that Spike couldn't help but follow its path.

He wanted to know who she was? She planned on telling him when she eventually revealed her true nature. But for now, it was probably best to hide her real name, lest the little dimwit her childe loved happened to recognize it.

The Dark One, the Woman called Lilith -- the Mother of his kind, and the first real woman who had been placed on Earth -- opened her mouth and spoke. "Lira. You can call me Lira."

---

Buffy, though she appeared to be carefree and wild to Dawn (and every other single horny male in the establishment -- except the one she wanted) watched stonily from the dance floor as Spike was completely bowled over by TurboSlut.

Spike had fallen for this type before. Spike had been in love with this type before. Spike had spent one-hundred-fucking-years catering to the psychotic whim of this type before. And Drusilla hadn't exactly been an easy nutcase to crack -- or satisfy, no matter how high the body count.

So why the hell was he falling for it again?

There he was, the big moron, staring up at that bloodsucker -- which was what she had to be in order to completely grasp Spike's attention like this -- with big old wide-eyed astonishment, as though she were the brightest star that he had ever seen. Buffy's inner voices came back to her -- or at least Anti-Spike did, as Pro-Spike had apparently gotten sick of Buffy's attitude and taken a temporary leave of absence. Anti-Spike's voice was angry and admonishing.

Looking at her like she's the brightest star he's ever seen, eh? Hmmm, let's see... Oh! Buffy! Didn't he used to look at you like that? I can't ever imagine why. After all, it's not as if he loved you. Because if he'd loved you, you wouldn't have been a stupid moronic bitch, and you would have given him a chance. Anti-Spike paused, and Buffy cringed at whatever she would say that was going to bite her in the ass. She knew it would be a doozy.

As always, she was right. Anti-Spike took a deep breath (as if she could), then screeched at the top of her lungs, Oh, YEAH. That's RIGHT. HE DID LOVE YOU! Dumbass!

Buffy could practically hear the angry stomps and the slamming-of-the-door after that. Anti-Spike had obviously retreated, having followed Pro-Spike's lead.

Okay, okay. Buffy had screwed up. She could admit that, freely, because she knew full well that she'd screwed up. When she got the chance, she was going to pull Spike aside and let him know how she really felt about him.

But first, she had to do something about the previously dubbed TurboSlut. While Spike seemed to be in La-La Land over this chick, which was hint number one that Something Was Wrong In Sunnydale, Buffy could feel distrust oozing out of every pore on her body. This woman practically wallowed in Untrustworthy. And Buffy was going to do everything in her power to find out why.

She watched the Spike-Makes-An-Ass-of-Himself Show for a little while longer before growing thoroughly disgusted with her lover -- uh, former lover (whom she was currently pining away for) -- and grabbed Dawn so she could saunter over there casually. She'd had enough of this wishy-washy crap.

It had absolutely nothing to do with jealousy. Nope. Nothing at all.

She scowled darkly when TurboSlut laughed and ran a hand down Spike's cheek. Spike smiled sweetly, grasped her hand, and began tenderly rubbing her fingers.

Okay maybe there was just a little jealousy.



To be continued...




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