The Chase


A/N: Okay, I'm a wimp. I couldn't wait to put up the next chapter and prevent the hate!

My thanks for the next few chapters go to SanityFair, dawnofme and 'Guest' for helping me to figure out the journey from LA to San Francisco.

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He woke to find himself cocooned in warmth and breathing in the delicious scent of Buffy. And for a minute, he thought it might have been a dream, until a very vivid memory of the night before came to him. He smiled widely and rolled over – only to find himself the only occupant of his bed. He frowned and sat up a little, forcing the sleep away. He knew Buffy had been here – could still smell her scent all over his sheets – but judging by the warmth of the bed beside him, or lack thereof, she was long gone.

He sat up fully, wiping a hand across his face and looking around for any clues as to her whereabouts. There was no sign that she was still in his room and he sighed. He wouldn’t have minded waking up with her in his arms. Going by the amount of light he could see behind the thick drapes though, it was late morning and it was no surprise the Slayer had been up and out early. She also had those weird ideas about propriety and he wouldn’t be surprised if she thought sleeping with him under Angel’s roof was wrong.

He smiled to himself and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Well, he’d just go find her and let her know how silly an idea that was. A perverse sense of pride kept him from having a shower, mainly so that his grandsire could have no doubts about which vampire Buffy preferred. Still smiling, he pulled on his clothes, slicked back his hair and left the room.



He barged through the door of Angel’s office and found him, as usual, sat in his chair, staring out at the skyline, brooding of course. Angel turned to him as he came in and frowned slightly. Spike moved towards his grandsire’s desk and leant against it casually, fiddling with the name plate.

“So, seen the Slayer this morning?” he asked, struggling to keep from crowing with triumph.

“Spike, she’s gone.”

“Gone out for the day?” he asked, replacing the pen he had been playing with, “Should have guessed. LA girl at heart and all that, probably-“

“No, Spike. She left.”

He frowned and really looked at his grandsire.

“What do you mean she left?”

“She’s on her way to San Francisco as we speak.”

He moved away from the desk and sank into a chair mindlessly, brain racing with thoughts.

“Wow, she’s really upped her game,” he remarked idly, “Used to be she’d just leave the crypt the morning after… now she’s leaving the city.”

He was silent for a moment and then he burst out laughing, surprising his silent grandsire.

“This is bloody brilliant!”

Angel frowned, watching him as if he’d gone crazy, seemingly not understanding his logic. He laughed again harder and slapped the arm of the chair he was in.

“Classic Slayer, this is.”

“Spike, what the hell are you going on about?”

He raised his gaze to his grandsire and smirked triumphantly.

“Bint only runs when she’s scared. She felt something, so she ran.”

He laughed again.

“This is brilliant!”



He jumped to his feet quickly and turned to his grandsire.

“I need to borrow the Viper.”

“What?!”

“Need to borrow the car. Got a little road trip to make,” he explained with a wide smile.

“Spike, don’t you think-“

“You know I’m gonna take the car whether you let me or not.”

He saw Angel’s shoulders sag and smiled widely.

“When did she leave?” he asked.

“About two hours ago.”

Nodding, he turned towards the door.

“Spike, wait.”

He paused at his grandsire’s voice and turned back to him impatiently.

“What?” he bit out.

With a pained look, Angel moved towards him and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

“She asked me to give you this.”

He took the piece of paper with a slight frown and looked at it for a few short seconds, before shoving it in his pocket.

“Thanks.”

He turned back to the door and threw it open.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Angel called after him.

“Doesn’t matter what it says. I’m going after her.”

Before his grandsire could make any reply, he was halfway to the elevators, still grinning and getting some strange looks from the people he passed.

In no time, he was in the basement garage and with a silent thanks to Wolfram & Hart for their special tinted glass, he guided the Viper out of the garage and onto the streets of LA, heading for the freeway and the road to San Francisco.



About two hours into his journey, he had to stop for petrol, but luckily the forecourt was shaded enough so there was no danger of him going up in flames. He grabbed a few refreshments and as he was paying, his hand closed around the folded piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out and held it in one hand as he paid and returned to the car. He sat at the wheel, unmoving, for several long moments before he finally got up the courage to unfold the piece of paper.


Spike,

I always regretted not making the most of our last night together in Sunnydale. At least I got a chance to make that right. I’m really glad you’re back and I hope you’ll be happy. I’m sure you’ll do a lot of good with Angel.

Buffy


With a sigh, he crumpled up the note and sank his head back against the head rest. So last night was just a way of her taking what she thought she should have had back in Sunnydale? There was something about the carefully-worded note though, something that made him pause when he thought about turning back.

Finally, he pulled the door shut and turned the ignition on. Like he’d told Angel, he would go to her, no matter what the note said. Now though, it was anger and some sadness that was prompting him more than the joy that had filled his unbeating heart earlier. Slayer thought she could mess with him? After everything they had been through, he’d have thought she’d have stopped thinking of him as her personal sex toy. He screeched out of the forecourt and tore along the road, his sudden anger making him heavy on the gas. He was going to wring her bloody neck.