Author’s Note: This chapter covers the same time period as Chapters 11 and 12.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all recognizable characters, locations, and dialogue belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the various writers. Show writers and any other quoted authors have been credited in individual chapters. I'm making no money from this—it is purely in the name of fun.

Betaed by Phuriedae
*because Spike is English, I’ve made a rather anal retentive attempt to spell things “properly.” My beta (who IS British), has asked that I include the following disclaimer: “Any Britpicking mistakes are my beta's, because she reads too much fic written by you bloody Americans and is used to your bizarre ways by now."

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Credits: This chapter contains dialogue from the episode “Into the Woods” by Marti Noxon.

Chapter 42
Love Bites

30 November 2000

Bloody hell.

I don't know what to do.

Pretty sure this is one of those things where a soul might come in handy, but since I don't have one I'm a bit at loose ends.

Right. Start from the beginning.

Joyce's surgery was this morning. From what I overheard later, sounds like it went well. Stopped off at the Slayer's house, but Finn was there, taking advantage of her relief over her mum to get his rocks off. 'Course that meant I got to listen to them cooing all over each other. She left her window open, too, which meant I had the full concert. Technically wasn’t much of a concert. More like a television advertisement jingle, thank god. Don't know how much of listening to that wanker grunting over her I could have taken without slipping up there and ripping his bloody head off.

Had pretty much decided that there wasn't going to be any action—certainly not any worth listening to—and I should take off, when the front door opened and Finn slipped out, quiet as a little lummox. He had that stealthy sort of air that practically screams Up To No Good. Bloody amateur.

Now what sort of wanker would leave in the middle of the night when he's got an arm full of warm, sleepy Slayer?

So I followed him.

Figured at first he was off for home. Decided not when he headed for the seedier side of town. Trailed him over to a vamp brothel down behind the old paper factory.

Should have guessed that Sunnydale would have one. Get enough vamps in one location and they start to crop up like bloody toadstools. I could probably feed off humans there, even with the chip—long as I don't kill anyone or let it hurt them. Fuck, most of them would be happy to open their own veins for me. Never been the sort to whore myself out like that, though. Besides, Master Vampire here—if I can't hunt on my own, I'm not about to go get my kicks in a sleazy dive like that, run by a couple of milk-toothed fledges barely out of their nappies.

Thought maybe Finn was hunting, 'til I slipped upstairs after him and found him cuddled up in a mouldy chair with a cheap little vamp trollop sucking him off.

Wanker, thy name is Finn.

When I got to bed last night, Slayer was already drifting off, all happy and sated and covered in that bastard’s scent. Ended up sitting up half the night, trying to decide what to do.

Finn finally fucked up.

Golden boy’s got a bit of tarnish on him now. More than a bit, really, considering that he’s not just screwing around on the Slayer, he’s got himself a bloody dangerous new hobby. Something utterly satisfying about knowing that the git is about to either get himself offed by some milk-toothed fledge or that the Slayer’s gonna turn him inside out when she finds out what he’s doing behind her back.

And she needs to find out. Not just because Finn is betraying her, either. Slayer needs to know her tin soldier is putting her and her loved ones at risk like that.

Humans get offed in vamp brothels all the time. Might be an accident: some stupid little fledge that isn’t as in control as they think and sucks their donor dry without realising it. Sometimes it's not. We're not exactly known for sticking to the rules, vampires.

Wouldn't cry if Finn got killed, of course. He knows the dangers better than most. He wants to play Russian roulette with his life, that’s his own bloody choice.

Problem is if his tart decides to turn him. Slayer'd never see it coming, and if he rose smart enough he'd go for her friends first, anyway. Scoobies don't have her little vamp radar. They'd invite him in without thinking. Puts them all in bloody danger, don't it? Selfish plonker's too busy getting his rocks off to even think about that. Ought to know better.

She's going to be right brassed when she finds out.

Thing is… I'm not sure how to tell her. Don't think "Hey, Slayer, turns out your boy is off getting suck jobs from vamp whores when he's done shagging you" is going to go over well. More than likely she'll dust me first, then ask questions later.

Could confront him myself, but then he'd more than likely dust me. Wouldn't want me spreading the word about his little extracurricular activities. Good chance Buffy'll dump his sorry arse when she finds out. Girl's not stupid.

God I hope she kicks his fucking arse all the way across town. I'd buy tickets to that.

Could go to the Watcher, but I know how that'll go over, don't I? Can't bring a corpse over without an ulterior motive. Not a chance he'll listen if I try to tell him about this. Probably wouldn't believe me anyway.

I'd talk to Joyce, but she's got enough on her plate at the mo'.

Harris is right out. The poofter's got such a hardon over Finn, it's a wonder he doesn't bugger him every time soldier boy turns round.

That leaves the former demon girl, and the lover-Wiccas…

***

1 December 2000

Wasn't too hard to track Tara down. Found her the same way I found Buffy last year. Sodding universities put everything online nowadays and I may not be as computer savvy as the techno witch, but I can bloody well navigate a directory.

Getting her on her own was a bit harder. Luckily she and Willow don't take all their classes together.

Bird's a lot smarter than her girlfriend, too. Doesn't yell out "come in" to anyone who knocks on her bleeding door. Not even when the sun's up.

"Spike?" she asked when she opened the door. "What's wrong?" She looked concerned. Noticed she didn't step out of the room, though. Clever girl.

"I need to talk to you," I said, doing my best to look non-threatening. "Someplace we can chat? Apparently I don't come with the right plumbing for this building." Was getting a lot of looks from all the little chits coming and going in the hall. Made me want to strut a bit, actually, but I didn't need the red witch hearing about it later and tattling on me.

She frowned, but it didn't take her long to decide. "Yes, just… let me get my coat."

"Still daylight," I reminded her when she came out. "Anyplace close?"

"There's a campus coffee shop nearby, and covered walkways all the way there. Will that be okay?" she asked, stuttering a little.

I shrugged. Would probably make her feel safer, in public, with sunlight just a short sprint away, yeah… it'd do.

The walk wasn't bad. Had to bolt for it a couple of times, but nobody pays any attention to people running about on a university campus. Remember that from my own school days. Always someone rushing to get to class.

"Do you want anything?" she asked, when we snagged a table in a shadowy outside corner where the sunlight couldn't reach.

"Nah, coffee makes me hyper," I said. She gave me an amused look and went off to fetch some of her own. I lit up a fag while I waited. She came back with something smelling of chocolate and wrapped her hands round it to warm them up.

"You wanted to talk?" she said.

"Told me you'd help me out, if it wasn't evil, yeah?" I said.

"If I can, yes," Tara said. Trusting little thing.

"Any chance this can stay between you and me, pet? Got a reputation to protect here."

She thought that over, her big eyes blinking. "As long as it doesn't hurt anyone by me keeping it a secret, it can stay between us."

Was the best I was gonna get, I figured. "Right. Need some advice."

"Advice?" she seemed a bit surprised about that. Couldn't blame her.

"Soulless demon, right? Don't always know which way is up. I've got a… delicate sort of situation, so figured I'd ask someone who does," I said. "You owe me a favour."

She ducked her head, trying to hide a smile like she knew something I didn't. "I do. I can't promise my advice will be right but… I'll listen."

Took a couple of drags on my smoke before I figured out how I wanted to start.

"Gonna arse this up, I just know it," I said. "Okay, say, hypothetically, I saw something that’s been going on—something that might brass off the Slayer, if she knew? Might even hurt her bloody feelings? Not that I give a damn. Thing is… her not knowing would be worse. Dangerous. Someone could get… hurt."

"Hypothetically? You need to tell her," Tara said, not even hesitating. "It might hurt her to know about it, but Buffy takes her job really seriously. If it's dangerous she needs to know."

"Yeah," I said, stubbing out my fag on the tabletop. "Figured. How?"

"You… you want to know how to tell her?" she blinked. Then she held out her hand.

"What?" Did she want me to hold it? Read my palm? Bugger that.

"Littering is bad for the earth. I'll throw it away when we leave."

"Oh, right," I frowned, but handed the dog-end over. She dropped it on a napkin, then folded her hands round her cup again.

"You wanted advice on how to tell her," she prodded me. I was still a bit confused about the whole cigarette ending the bloody world thing, so it took me a mo' to get back on track.

"Right. How to tell her so she’ll believe me without her wanting to dust the messenger," I said.

"Are you going to charge her?" she asked, her forehead knitting up with concern. "You know… for the information?"

"Would it help?" I asked. I hadn't thought of that. Slayer seems to think paying me cash makes it all hunky-dory. Maybe I could hand it over like standard info? Wonder what the going rate is for info on someone’s lover betraying them that badly?

"No," she said seriously. "It really wouldn't."

Well, there went that idea.

"Balls," I muttered. “Right, sorry. No charging the Slayer. Got it. Anything else?"

She thought it over, sipping at her coffee. Wanted to light another smoke, but instead I just fiddled with the lighter. Was feeling jittery. Always am when I'm out and about when the sun's still in the sky; sets the demon on edge, which is easy enough to ignore. But mostly because this whole sodding scene had me feeling restless. The demon part of me wanted to know why I couldn't just ignore the whole thing and wait for the bastard to get himself killed, or just straight up tell the Slayer. But the bits of me that are still William wanted the good witch's advice. More and more I keep listening to the ponce. Not sure why, but I figure those instincts are my best bet for getting through the rest of this year. If I'd listened to my demon, I'd have been Louhi's vamp sex toy before Count Wankula had blown into town.

"You said… you said you saw something? Is it something she could see for herself?" she said hesitantly. "If she saw it with her own eyes t-then she can't…you know, accuse you of lying. And… maybe she'll understand why you'd show her."

"Yeah… could probably do that," I said, trying to figure it. Would depend on if Finn went back often. Most times bite addicts can't go more than a day or two without a fix, even though that makes it more dangerous. Losing too much blood over a few days can kill a human just as easy as sucking them dry on the spot, and it's not like we keep a medical record on how much a human has donated recently. "So, I should just take her there? Let her see what's going on?"

"Would it be dangerous?" she asked.

"For her? 'Course not, especially not with me there for backup," I said.

"Would you back her up? You're… not exactly her biggest fan," she said.

"Yeah, Glinda," I said. "I'd back her up. What's going on… it's bloody dangerous for her, her mum, her Watcher, you lot." Didn't mention that I'd take some personal satisfaction in seeing Finn exposed for the utter berk he is. Girl sees too much, though.

"There's something in it for you," she said. Wasn't a question.

"Always is, isn't there? No such thing as altruism among vampires," I said. Gave her my most charming smirk. She smiled back.

"Would it be the end of the world?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"If a soulless vampire ever did anything truly unselfish?"

I laughed. "Be a sure sign of the bloody apocalypse, if I ever saw one."

She laughed, too. "Then it's probably a good thing there's something in it for you, then, huh?"

"Just enough, luv. Just enough."

Took the sewers over to Buffy's, after she left. I'll wait here till the sun sets, then see what Finn does. Hope Tara's right about showing her, or tonight's gonna have a dusty ending, after all.

***

2 December 2000 (2 am)

Well, I tried. Went about as I'd thought.

First part of the night was a repeat of last. Could have set a watch by how long it takes him to get his rocks off. Git has no concept of how to please a woman. It's all pant and groan and grunt. As exciting as a sodding instruction manual: insert tab A into slot B, remove, repeat ad nauseum until tab A needs a nap. Which takes about five bloody minutes. Six, if you count foreplay.

Six and a half, when he bodges getting the condom on.

Pillock.

When he snuck out I followed long enough to be sure of where he was going. Wouldn't do for me to get the Slayer there only to find out he'd gone home. Then I went back for her.

About scared the demon out of me when she sat up and said, "Mr. Gordo?"

"No. It's me," I said. Which was true, even if I meant it different than I could say it.

"Spike," she said, pulling the blankets up around her and glaring at me. "Every time you show up like this, you risk all of your parts, you know that?"

Yeah, cause I so often sneak into her bedroom in the middle of the night to watch her sleep. What kind of poofter vampire does she think I am?

Being trapped in her room while she's sleeping is entirely different.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have a good reason. As usual, I'm here to help you, and I—" suddenly registered what it was I was actually seeing. "Are you naked under there?"

Slayer sleeps naked? Since when? Bloody hell. Should have said sod it and gone straight to bed. Wondered if she'd want to spar tonight.

"Get out," she said.

Fuck. Needed to stay on topic.

"No, I'm serious. I mean, not about the naked part, I mean…" If I turned my head a little to the side, could almost see…

"Get out, or I will drop you out," she said. "Head first."

Right. Clearly she was going to be unreasonable about this. Better get serious before I got dusty.

"I wanna show you something," I told her. She must have caught on then that this wasn't just about witty repartee.

"What?" she asked, actually interested.

"You need to see this," I told her. "But we need to move if we wanna get there in time."

Took me a second to realise she wasn't about to get out of bed with me watching her. "Oh, please! Like I give a bloody damn."

William made me turn round, then he surprised me by putting a rope on my demon and holding my head in place. Hadn't realised my inner Victorian was that strong. Didn't mean he liked it any better, though. We were having a glorious time imagining what was causing every little whisper of movement behind us.

"Okay," she said, "what's going on?" I turned back around. Even in old sweats she's bloody adorable.

"C'mon," I said. "It's across town." We headed for the stairs.

"Do I need weapons?"

"Stake you've got shoved down the back of your sweats should do in a pinch," I said.

She frowned. "How do you…?"

Rolled my eyes as I opened the front door for her. "Always do, don't you?" As if I wouldn’t know where a Slayer keeps her weapons.

Slayer didn't seem to have an answer for that. Spent most of the trek across Sunnyhell silent. She couldn't have missed that her honey wasn't in bed with her when I came in, and I could tell she was nervous.

"Am I going to have to pay you for this, later?" she asked, finally, breaking the silence.

"This isn’t about that," I said. "I just… I'm trying to help, here, Slayer."

"'Cause you're usually so helpful," she said, sarcastic.

"Could be," I muttered. She heard. Watched her frown, then shake it off.

"Where are we going, Spike?"

"Here," I said, leading her around the fence and up the stairs.

Knew she could sense the vamps inside. She gave me a wary glance. "So, help me, Spike, if this is a trap—"

"It's not," I promised. "Can dust me if I'm lying." That made her blink.

We went in. Was worse tonight than last. Dozy junkies laying on the floor, all but dead. Vamps sitting on the couch, passing money and donors. Whole place stank of old blood, sweat, jizz, and filth. Almost envied the Slayer her dull human nose, don't know how these tossers can stand it.

"Don't start slaying," I warned her. "That's not why we're here." Didn't much care if she did, but not before she saw what was upstairs. After that I'd help her dust the whole lot of them, if she wanted.

Big vamp came up, started making noise, then. Thought he was a bleedin' bouncer. Couldn't have been more than twenty. Bloody fledges.

"Keep it down," I warned him, not wanting to tip off Soldier Boy upstairs. Gormless tried to stop me, so I grabbed him by the throat. Didn't even bother letting the demon out. Idiot can't sense an old vamp when he's ten inches away, deserves to be dust. Got more fight in my bloody thumb than Lug Nuts had in his over-sized body, even without my demon strength. "I said, keep it down."

After that they let us be. Could sense them, though. We had their attention now. We needed to move.

Got her up the stairs as silent as we could. Could smell Finn down the hall, his blood saturating the air. One hundred percent, homegrown, American boy—most wholesome thing half these vamps had ever eaten. Might as well have been serving up bloody gourmet. Wouldn't be long before some greedy little bitch took too much.

When she pushed the door open, the moron was actually ordering his trollop to go harder on him. At this rate he'd be lucky to last another night. Probably saved his damned life.

Heard Buffy give a little gasp when she realised what she was seeing. That's when he saw her.

Couldn't resist getting a dig in. "We only came here because we care about you, friend," I said as he tried to pry the whore's fangs out of his arm. "You need help."

Went after her, figuring she'd be mad enough to take the place apart. Got to the stairs in time to see her hurl one of the vamps halfway across the room, then bolt for the door.

They didn't bother trying to stop me when I left. Lucky them.

I started to explain when I caught up to her outside, but she shot me a look that as good as promised a staking if I said another word.

Fuck. Try to do right and end up getting kicked again. Still, she knows now, yeah? I followed her, out of her range, till I saw she got home. Then I headed for the crypt.

Harmony was hanging about, but I kicked her arse out. Said she was going to a party anyway. As if I gave a damn.

Right now, all I want is to get this written down and go to sleep.

Her eyes back there… yeah, it hurt her feelings. Just… didn’t know it’d hurt me so bad to hurt her.

***

[Note: The intervening two pages are covered in words and scraps of poetry, all crossed out with increasingly irritated strokes]

2 December 2000 (noon)

Sod it.

I can't find the words.

No. Not right.

I can find the words… just can't put them in the right order.

God, if I live for a thousand years, I won't ever forget last night. Ever.

I won't forget the scent of her tears in the air, or the anguish in her eyes. Won't forget the feeling that came over me then: I put that there.

Oh, I know that's not true. Not really. Finn's fault for being an utter prat. But I led her to it, didn't I? Let her see.

What’s left of William in me says I'd done the right thing, but what does that dead git know? The demon argues that I should have just let the wanker die.

Don't matter now, though, does it? She knows, and she's in pain.

I knew, going to sleep last night, that she'd want me dust. Right then any vampire, even a supposedly dream one who'd hadn't touched her to harm her since this whole thing began, was fair game. When she told me she wanted to spar, though… didn't matter. I'd have stood still and let her beat me to a bloody pulp if that's what she wanted. Bruises would be gone by morning. It'd be worth it.

Sparring was something I could do. No holds barred… if that's what she wanted, I could give her that, too.

Been a long time since I was able to use my full strength and all my skills in a fight. Waited a minute or two, at first, testing her, to see how off balance she was.

Should have known better. Whenever the girl is breaking, the Slayer in her steps up to the plate.

I let the demon out… just a bit. Not enough to fully vamp out, just enough to give me the strength and the speed, just enough to boost my reflexes.

Good thing, too.

We danced like we've never had a chance to, and god, it was incredible.

This wasn't practise or playing. This was life, fists and fire and fury. It was death, both of us doing our level best to deal the fatal blow. She wasn't toying with me, way she so often does with other vamps. Almost like a game where you try to use as few moves as possible to win—every move was for the killing shot.

If I hadn't known it before, I know it now: Slayer and I, bloody equals. For every time she managed to "stake" me with her fist, I got in close enough to have ripped her throat out with my fangs. It wasn't strength, or speed, or skill that determined who got the upper hand each time—was a roll of the dice, slip of fate, the tiniest opening in one another's defences.

Fighting her like that, going for the death blow only to hold back at the last second so we could dance again… was better than killing a Slayer. Better than killing. Wanted it to go on like that forever.

When we'd finally reached a stalemate—her tiny fist a hard knot against my heart, my lips pressed against her hot little throat—we were both so turned on it wouldn't have taken much to go from fighting to shagging. My dick was so hard it hurt, and I could smell her arousal all around me, her heartbeat pounding under me, throbbing against my mouth, her warmth, her scent…

It was the smell of her tears, where they'd tracked down her throat, that stopped me. Suddenly remembered why we were doing this. Not because she wanted to be fighting me or shagging me… no. Was grieving over her boy. That bloody fucking wanker. Couldn't pound on him this way without breaking him, but I could take anything she wanted to dish out and then some, and no guilt over it after since I’m nothing to her but the dream of a dead man. No voice. No face. Not real.

Still… for a few hours there, I had her. Had all that fire, all that pent up passion turned on me. Glorious.

It's enough, for now, just to have been able to touch her, to dance.

Even if she doesn't know it was me she was dancing with.

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