Chapter 2 The Last Word

AN* this is the second chapter in my little tale. There will probably only be one more, but if everyone asks nicely, then I promise I will write a sequel. The story is already in my head, I just have to finish some AU stuff. Luckily the AU story is near the end, and the sequel to this should be up soon. That’s if you all want it of course…………



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He couldn’t stand it. Joyce, Dawn and Buffy were all screaming at each other over him. Why prolong the agony and listen to any more. His nibblet and Joyce had always shown him respect and treated him like a man; Buffy would never treat him as anything but a monster.

Why was he putting himself through this? Was it worth it to live for crumbs that she would never give him? After spending over one hundred years with the last ‘love of his unlife’, was he willing to go through that again?

Shaking his own thoughts from his head, he knew it was time to go. They would not notice his departure for some time, and he needed to put some distance between them.

Joyce’s overheard arguments were running through his mind as he made his way to the waiting Desoto. He could picture her face as she argued his case to Buffy. She had tried to tell her daughter how much Spike had helped her with her slaying duties since he had been chipped. Buffy’s reaction to her mother’s comments had been to use the argument that he was just like a serial killer in prison.

Maybe he was just as she said. Maybe his obsession with the slayer was his way of compensating for not being able to feed. Maybe he could be something better than he was if he left. Maybe he could leave her alone to live her normal life with Captain Cardboard.

He continued to walk slowly through the cemetery and his freedom. Each time he took a step, he had to force himself to keep walking. He wanted nothing more than return to her porch. His eyes were hot and aching from the tears he needed to shed, yet still he carried on. He wondered why he was walking so slowly when he should be running to his destiny.

His ‘Good Bye’s’ had all been said. The few friends he had made all agreed that he needed to leave Sunnydale and make his own life. He wondered if he was destined forever to be Love’s Bitch. Was he always to be the plaything of women who would never love him or respect him? It was definitely time to move on.

He hastened his steps as the thoughts tumbled through his head. So intent upon his inner musings, he did not hear her approach until his face hit the hard ground. It was lucky he did not need to breathe, as Buffy’s booted heel forced his face into the hard earth.

“Just where are you off to in such a hurry, Spike?”

He could hear the contempt in her tone as she spoke. Considering the position she had him in, stilled as he was under the sole of her boot, he could hardly reply. Feeling her lift her foot from his neck, he slowly turned on to his back and gazed up at her.

Standing over him in her leather trousers, and flimsy white blouse, she looked like a valkyrie. Her legs towered above him, as his eyes followed a path from her small booted feet to her hips. Hands clenched at her side, she stared down at him in disgust, yet he still thought she was the most beautiful woman alive.

And that was the whole point. She was alive, and he was technically dead. She would never see him as anything other than an annoying vampire. Too much of a monster to live; too little of a vampire to kill. He realised then that she lived with a daily dilemma of just what to do with him. Oh, he was handy in a demon fight, but not trustworthy enough to be a friend.

Not moving from his position on his back, he smiled up at her. “I’m just trying to leave this sodding town, slayer. I wanted to say my ‘Good Bye’s’ to Joyce and the nibblet; but no, you didn’t like that did you slayer? Had to have one more go at poor old Spike. Does it give you pleasure to hurt me, slayer? Do you dream of killing me at night once you’ve had your fill of Captain Cardboard? Do you get off on the thought of bringing me down?”

Before he could utter another word, her boot was in his face. His head thrashed to the side with the force of the blow, and blood flew from his mouth and nose. He knew she wanted to punish him for his remarks, but something held her back. Past caring how much she hurt him, he was determined to have his say before he left everything behind.

Under her watchful gaze, he rose slowly to his feet. From somewhere inside his duster he found a handkerchief, using it to wipe the blood from his nose and mouth.

Buffy stared at him for a few seconds, before bursting into hoots of hysterical laughter. He looked at her in astonishment. It occurred to him that he had never seen her laugh like this, and a small smile passed over his face. Wondering why she was laughing, he deliberately spoke in a belligerent tone.

“What’s so funny, slayer? I’m right, aren’t I? You do get off on trying to take me down.”

If anything her mirth increased. As her laughter died down to low chuckles, a smile formed on her lips.

“If I live to be a hundred, Spike, I don’t think I will ever see another vampire use a handkerchief to wipe blood from their nose. Come to think of it, you usually just lick it off, which is just…ewww.”

Spike stared at her for a few seconds before he answered her.

“Considering the number of times you break my nose, slayer, I’m surprised you even notice how I get rid of the mess.” Taking his life in his hands, he drew close to her. They were barely inches apart before he spoke again. “I asked you earlier, slayer, and you didn’t answer me. Does it give you a thrill to hurt me?”

Buffy’s head flew back from him. She refused to back down from their confrontation, but she did not like him in her face. He saw too much when he was this close, and his constant reading of her soul annoyed her, mainly because he was always right.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spike. I hit you because you deserve it, with your smart mouth and sneaky comments. What the hell have you got against Riley anyway? My love life is none of your business, so keep your thoughts to yourself.”

Spike moved even closer. He could smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo, coupled with the sweetness of her breath. The slayer power she held so tightly in her gorgeous body called to him on another level, and it took everything he had not to grab her and kiss her senseless.

“Listen slayer, I just want to get in my car and get the hell out of here. I’ve had enough of you, this town and the fucking chip in my head. I need a new place to live and maybe carve a nice quiet life for myself. I need to be where no one knows who I am, or what I am.” His face drew even closer to hers as he continued. “Are we clear on this, slayer, ‘cos I don’t want to say it again. I’m getting out of your hair for good, and I hope you’re happy.”

She stared at the deep blue eyes looking down into hers. He meant it. He was leaving her. He was getting in his car and driving away, never to return. Her mother was wrong, he didn’t love her. He was a monster, a thing, a vampire and he belonged to her.

“I say when and where you can go, Spike” she told him in a low, calm voice. “You don’t get to just up and leave ‘cos you feel like it. The minute the government put that chip in your head you became my responsibility.”

He could not help himself, he laughed in her face.

“Is that right, pet. So you see me as yours, do you? Well let me tell you a thing or two about vampires, Buffy, we only belong to our mates. We don’t belong to jumped up slayers who think they rule the fucking world.”

This time he saw the blow coming and deftly moved back from her. Shaking his head from side to side at her show of aggression, he could not help but comment.

“You see what I mean here, slayer. Here I am telling you I’m getting out of your life for good, and you try to tell me to stay. When I tell you that I don’t really give a flying fuck what you think of me leaving, you try to beat me down. I’m sick and tired of being your punch bag. To you I’m just something to hit when you can’t find something to kill. Do you think you are any better than me, slayer? Do you even realise how much alike we are?”

Buffy stood her ground as she mocked his words.

“Alike! You think we’re alike. Good god, Spike, you really do live on another planet. YOU ARE A VAMPIRE! I kill your kind every day and happily brush the dust from my hands when I’m done. I am nothing like you.”

He smiled his knowing smile at her then. Knowing she would go back to her bed after he had gone and think over this conversation, he went for broke.

“We both kill demons, pet. You kill them because it’s your destiny, while I kill them simply because I enjoy it. Tell me truthfully, slayer, right here where it’s just you and me. Tell me you don’t enjoy the kill. The thrill it gives you, the feelings you have inside. Does the kill arouse you, slayer? I know it does. I can smell it when we fight together. I can feel the adrenaline pumping around your body and I can almost taste your sweat.”

Buffy looked at him open-mouthed. He was right. A good fight did turn her on, and she enjoyed more of her kills than she was willing to admit. Why was he always right in his assessment of her? He did this to her all the time. Analyzing her, taking apart her feelings, making her think things she didn’t want to think about.

He was right; she had to let him go. Tonight, before he killed her with his words, she had to let him go.