Chapter 4: Playing With Fire

Author's Notes: This part is a little dark-Buffy.



Buffy was about to make her way out of the hotel when the phone rang again. She glared at it, contemplated breaking it into two pieces, and then determined that she didn’t want to be kicked out of the hotel just yet. The short walk across the room felt like the last walk of a convicted felon to her. On the fourth ring she picked it up, absently massaging her leg where the latest injection seemed to be more potent than the last.

“Hello?”

“Buffy?”

“Yes.”

”It’s Spike.”

“I gathered that by the whole recognizing your voice thing.”

“I can see that you are still just a right ray of bitter sunshine.”

“Okay. What do you want?”

“You didn’t come here for your treatment. The doc said you should have had two already. Every six hours and whatnot.”

“I feel better. And I have an aversion to freaky doctors who work at freaky offices that have freaky infirmaries in them.”

“You gave us your word.”

“Yeah, sucks to be you. Hah, no pun intended.”

“Buffy,” Spike said gently. “Can we just get together or something? Talk? I mean, this is getting ridiculous. You’re mad at me for coming back and not telling you, and I get that, but I want to know why you’re mad at the rest of the world.”

“You’re right. I am angry at the world.” Buffy checked her watch. “But the world has a way of making it up to me every few hours like clockwork. See, the sun goes down, the uglies come out, and I get to release some agression by stomping a hole through their asses. Free therapy. And the sun is setting so I should get out there and start my session.”

“You’re slaying? After last night? Angel said -- ”

Buffy chuckled, more to herself than him. “Once upon a time, a very annoying Angel told me that Los Angeles was his town. Guess what? He was just evicted.”

“Buffy,” Spike wearily said. He heard the click on the other end. “Slayer? Buffy? Shit.”

Slamming the receiver down he glanced at Angel. “She’s heading out to slay. And she really hates you, by the way.”

Angel adjusted his duster, which he had just pulled on, and shouldered a tranquilizer gun. “Ready?”

“Have you lost your sodding mind?” Spike growled and made a move for the gun. “You won’t be shooting her.”

Angel shoved him backward. “If she’s losing her soul, if she harms a human being, she won’t be able to live with that. You and I both know it. If we can’t get through to her ourselves then this is our alternative.”

“You saw the way it affected her. What if it kills her this time? What then?” Spike shouted.

“It won’t. Fred gave it to me. It’s just a sedative. She won’t even go under.”

“And then what?”

“Then we find out if her soul is fucked up and we use her to lure The Immortal here.”

“Oh, so she gets to become the bait? Is that it? We guinea pig her and then offer her up as some kind of lure?” Spike laughed sarcastically. “You really are a piece of work.”

“I’m saving her from herself.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Angel threw the stake he was holding across the room where it embedded into the wall. “I have her best interest at heart. I think you have a piece of ass in mind. See, that’s the difference between you and me. Buffy was my soulmate! She was my everything and I loved her in ways that you will never begin to understand. That’s why I *can* do this. I know her inside and out and I know that if she’s losing it, she would want to be stopped. You look at her and you see --”

“I look at her and I see everything!” Spike yelled. “I see the sun rise. I see my soul! I see goodness and purpose and more than you could ever imagine. I see the girl that I love. The girl that I loved even when I had no soul, was without conscience, and without remorse. I see the girl that looked at me and saw past the monster. And yes, I see her writhing beneath me, calling my name. MY name a million times. Not yours! Never yours! Your soulmate? You murdered your soulmate a million times before I got there! I fixed what you broke. And-”


”Guys!” Fred shouted from the doorway. She was staring back and forth from one to the other in shock.

“What?” Spike fairly screamed.

“The whole place can hear you.”

“You people can fix this place so that vampires can walk around in the sun, but you can’t spend some money for thicker walls? Bloody poofters,” Spike snarled.

Angel stalked across the room and pulled the stake out of the wall. It promptly crumbled in his palm and he sighed. “Why is anyone still here? It’s after seven.”

“I’ve got several volunteers helping me look into the whole defense theory. We’ve commissioned the shamans who performed the rituals on the windows and they should be here sometime after midnight to go over the material we have about The Immortal.” She glanced from one vampire to the other. “You guys have to focus. If this Slayer is losing her soul or if she’s lost it she could be more dangerous than anything we’ve ever faced. I mean, that kind of power with no moral code?”

“We know, luv,” Spike replied through gritted teeth. “What the hell did you give him a sedative for?”

“It’s okay, Fred.” Angel threw the stake into the trash and rifled through his desk for another one. “We’ll figure something out.”

Fred gave them both a weak smile. “Just ... don’t think of her as Buffy. Think of her as someone who could potentially be dangerous and stuff. Because she’s making everyone -”

“You’re not helping.” Spike told her as he walked out of the office.

Angel squeezed her hand as he passed her. “I know you’ll figure out your end.”

Fred watched them as they boarded the elevator.
It was going to be a long night and she wasn’t even convinced that Buffy was worth the trouble. Sure, Buffy was a legendary Slayer, but anyone who could cause two creatures of the night to totally forget what was important was clearly not a very good person.



The music inside the club was vibrating. Buffy could feel it thumping in her chest as she sidled up to the bar and motioned for the bartender. He gave her a smile and leaned closer. “What’s it gonna be?”

Buffy glanced at the bottles lining the wall. “Got stuff to forget. I want something strong.”

“My name is Trevor,” he told her, grabbing a bottle of Hennessey off the wall and putting a shot glass in front of her. “And this is guaranteed to lighten the load.”

Buffy downed the shot and motioned for another. After downing that one, she plucked money out of her wallet and told him to leave the bottle. He complied, but informed her that he’d call her a cab later if she wanted, then he moved down the bar to help someone else.

Bottle in hand, Buffy made her way to an empty table on the edge of the dancefloor. Thirty minutes later she had drained half the bottle and was beginning to lose the edge that had been with her the entire day. She even found herself smiling at a handsome man who gave her a flirty wave from across the room.

Her smile was enough encouragement for him. He made his way through the pulsating bodies and paused across from her. “This seat taken?”

“No, it’s not.” Buffy kicked the chair lightly and he caught it before it could tip over. “Sit down.”

“You new in town?” the man asked, settling in the chair and peeling the label on his Budweiser.

“No.”

“I just haven’t seen you around before.”

“You think you see everyone in Los Angeles? It’s a big place.”

“That’s true,” he replied, then extended his hand across the table. “I’m Derrick.”

“Buffy,” she said, taking his extremely cool hand in hers. “Wow, you must have poor circulation. You’re really cold. Almost like a dead person.”

Derrick smiled and she noted the tiny points on his canines. “Well, I get nervous around a beautiful girl.”

“How sweet!” She forced a giggle and took several long gulps from her bottle. She relished the burn as it flooded into her system and welcomed the light headed feel that accompanied it. “What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, you know. Movie producer.”

“Oh!” Buffy feigned enthusiam. “Wow. I’m an actress.”

“Really?” Derrick leaned in closer and gave her a dazzling smile. “I knew you had that look about you. I could get you a role in the film.”

“Is it a scary movie?” She played along, all the while noting his entire lack of a reflection in the mirror that ran the length of the wall.

“It’s a vampire movie.”

Buffy gasped enthusiastically. “I love vampire movies. And you know what else?”

“What?”

Leaning so close that their noses were almost touching, she said, “I’ve never had sex with a movie producer, but I’m thinking that we could step out into the alley and have a really, really good time. I could teach you things that would make you blush.”

Derrick had the temerity to look shocked. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Finishing off her bottle, Buffy stood and motioned for him. He followed along closely. She could feel his eyes on her body and added a delightful sway to her hips with every step she took. Giving the pocket of her jeans a pat to reassure herself that the stake was indeed handy, she glanced behind her. He was still there, still grinning like a lovestruck teenager. She made her way to the exit and walked a short distance down the darkened alleyway.

“How do you like it, Derrick?”

“Any way you want to give it to me,” he replied, grabbing her arms and pinning her back against the wall. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “You’re hot as hell.”

Buffy grinned, licking her lips. He watched her tongue as it darted out and his was an exact mirror image. “Tell me more about your movie, Derrick. Would I be the heroine?”

“I’m thinking victim. You know, slow, painful death.” His grin widened as he tightened his grip on her. “Maybe in an alleyway. Maybe with teeth as deep in your neck as the cock in your pu --”

“I don’t do victim well,” she cut him off. “You know what I could do, though?”

“What?” He caught her earlobe between his teeth and lightly nipped it.

“I could be a vampire slayer.” She felt him tense and he slowly pulled back, still holding her arms. “You know, slow, painful dusting in an alleyway just like this? With my stake further in your chest than your little dick could *ever* think of going.”

She watched his throat constrict as he swallowed. “A Slayer?”

Batting her eyelashes innocently she gazed up at him. Then she brought her knee up between his legs so hard that she could have sworn she heard a bone crack. He howled and fell unceremoniously, sprawling on his back. Buffy pulled the stake out and straddled his waist, making every effort to grind her pelvis into his to cause as much pain as possible. “Do you still think I’m hot, Derrick? Still think I have the look? Think you can get it up one last time?”

“Buffy!”

She stopped gyrating and glanced behind her. Angel and Spike were both standing at the mouth of the alleyway. Rolling her eyes, she stared down at Derrick. “Sorry. It would have been the ride of your life.”

She brought the stake down in one fell swoop. He dusted beneath her and she settled on the ground, still on her knees. Brushing dust off her shirt and jeans, she waited for them to arrive before she glanced up at them.

“Buffy,” Angel said, staring down at her. “What -”

“Were you fucking him?” Spike spat out. “That’s what it looked like. You were fucking him!”

Buffy grinned. “Yes, my amazing crotchless pants allowed me to have sex with him while fully clothed.”

“What the hell were you doing?” Angel asked her, reaching to help her up.

With a shrug, Buffy got to her feet, swayed a little, then kicked the wall lightly with each foot to rid her shoes of the excess dust. “I was fucking *with* him. It gets so boring to just stake and go. Besides, a little play never hurt anyone.”

“Are you drunk again?” Angel stepped closer, sniffing the air around her.

“Just in case no one has ever mentioned it,” Buffy glanced up at him. “That’s really unsettling. You’re like a dog. Always sniffing blood and sniffing liquor. If I see you sniff someone’s ass then all bets are off.”

Laughing at her own joke, Buffy leaned back against the wall. “I missed California. The ocean, the vampires, the Slaying of the vampires. Oooh, you know what we should do? Go for a swim in the ocean.”

Angel picked her bag up off the ground and handed it to her. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to be swimming right now.”

“Please,” Buffy replied. “I can hold my liquor.”

“I’m sure you can,” Angel told her, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder as she stumbled and regained her footing again. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat and we can all talk.”

“Talk, talk, talk. That’s all you ever want to do.” She put the bag over her arm and began to walk toward the road. “Have you ever seen a night so beautiful?”

Spike and Angel followed her closely and Spike said, “Not really. A million stars out.”

Buffy paused and glanced up at the heavens. She had noticed the tranquilizer gun that was dangling off Angel’s shoulder and knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Deciding to play along, to buy herself some time, she said, “Let’s go someplace dark and just watch the sky.”

“Okay,” Angel told her, taking her elbow and leading her toward his car.

“Some place dark and quiet,” Buffy replied. “I just want to be quiet.”

Angel exchanged a look with Spike as he helped her into the passenger seat of the car. Spike nodded and slipped into the backseat, where he contented himself to watch the streetlights play in her hair.