Chapter Two- Screwed
Drawing in a long draw from his cigarette, he let his hand drop from his mouth. Shaking his head, he sighed, taking in another lungful. Sweet, mentholated release. God, he was so bloody fucked.
Harmony was out hunting, thank god. He really couldn’t deal with the bint’s idiocy right now. He’d spent the last of the afternoon in a cold shower, only redressing once she’d left at dusk. So a cold shower, four cigarettes and a bottle of scotch later, and he was still confused.
What the hell was he going to do? Tell Buffy... Tell the Slayerthat he was... he was... bloody hell.
Dropping his smoke to the ground and crushing it underfoot, he reached for his duster. He needed some violence. Pausing for a moment to choose a weapon, he bypassed the smaller stuff and went straight for a double edged axe. Hefting it in his hand to get used to the weight, he headed for the door.
Time to go hunting.
* * * * * * *
Buffy ran through the night, vaulting over tombstones and dodging mausoleums. Breath shallow, she threw a glance behind her at the seven vamps tailing her, their guttural snarls tearing through the night air. They were definitely gaining.
Trust her to tell Riley to go home early and twenty minutes later, walk smack bang into a nest. The bastards hadn’t even let her get a pun out before charging at her. She’d dealt them a few bruises each and bolted, with them not far behind.
Flipping a stake in her hand, she tossed it behind her in a round, back hand swing, smiling as she heard it sink into one of the vamps chest. Speeding up, she threw herself behind the nearest mausoleum to catch her breath.
Studying her surroundings, she took about three seconds to come up with a plan. Running at the closest tombstone, she jumped, landing with one foot on its edge before flipping backwards to land, standing, on top of the crypt. Crouching quickly, she watched as the vamps surrounded the crypt, expecting to take her by surprise.
* * * * * * *
Spike strode over the grass; eye’s flicking over the ground for freshly disturbed graves. Nothing. God, he needed a good, violent kill before sunrise. He needed something,anything, to take his mind off that bloody dream. Biting his lip, he glared upwards at the heavens. They couldn’t give him anything to work with here? Surely the damn Powers could cut the guy a bleedin’ break? Didn’t they know he was on their side?
Hearing shouting nearby, he spun around, closing his eyes and inhaling through his nose. Thank you Powers-that-bloody-Be. His eyes flashed open when he caught the scent of numerous vampires on the air and... The Slayer.
Vanilla, peaches and sweat. God, it was a nice scent…
He should walk away, head in the opposite direction, and lose himself in a very large bottle of Jack Daniels. But, despite his screaming instincts, he flipped the axe casually in his hand and headed towards the skirmish.
Treading lightly through the thin stretch of trees that spread through the cemetery, Spike watched the fight from the distance. Buffy had flipped herself on top of the Van Helden crypt, which was slowly being surrounded by four, wait no... Six vamps. He shook his head, exasperated. What’d she do? Walked into a nest and waved her neck in their faces?
He paused briefly to admire the Slayer. Blue jeans, black boots and a scoop neck red shirt, bearing a hint of her cleavage under a leather jacket. Her long blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, much like it had in his dream. The breeze carried the scent of her hair over to him, intoxicating him. God, she was so beautiful.
...Fuck. He was so screwed.
* * * * * * *
Buffy grinned as the vamps ran into each other, one even swinging a punch. Gripping her stake in hand, she jumped down, turning in the air to land facing them. She used the lapse in their guard to plunge her stake into the nearest vamps chest before spin-kicking another, sending him flying to crash into the mausoleum wall. Falling into a defensive position, she grinned at the vampires.
“Sorry, didn’t think you’d mind me dropping in.” She punned, sending her knee flying into the nearest guy’s gut.
Spinning around, she blocked a blow headed to her face with her elbow. She delivered a punch to the closest vamp’s nose before flipping backwards, her foot connecting with his chin, her other foot coming around to knock the vamp coming from behind on the top of the head.
Spinning around, she threw a backhanded swing at the nearest, blocking his combination. Jumping onto the nearest tombstone, she balanced herself on its edge, sending her foot out to connect with a vamp’s head.
“You know, I gotta ask,” She questioned the vamp conversationally as he clutched at his head. “What exactly possessed you to die your hair pink?” She let another kick fly toward the vamp to her left, before dropping to the ground. “’Cause seriously, it doesn’t exactly scream ‘fear me I’m a killer.”
She flipped her stake in her hand; ready to drive it into the heart of the vamp at her feet. Raising the stake, she suddenly doubled over, the wind was knocked out of her as one vamp shot out a boot to connect with her stomach.
Clutching at her stomach, she fell to the ground as the vamp at her feet sent out a foot to knock her legs out from under her.
She immediately rolled away from the two vamps, only to be booted in the stomach by one of the vamps on her other side, another kicking the stake out of her hand.
Moving to jump back up, she flipped up, landing on her feet, only to be pushed roughly back against the crypt wall, the vamps forming a tight circle around her, Pinkie in the centre.
...Fuck. She was so screwed.
If you are under the age of 17, please use your head and do not read fics that are labeled "NC-17". Parents, I cannot control what your children are reading, so please be advised that the majority of the fics archived here are NOT suitable for those under the age of 17.
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I am in no way making any profit from this site. This is for pure entertainment purposes only.
Concept: (c)bringonthebloodshed.com (2004), Code & Design: (c)Diabola (2006), Graphics: Selene & Always