Chapter 10: The Natural Order of Things

There was a vampire nearby, she could sense it.

Buffy stalked through the cemetery, stake raised and ready for dusting. She peered around headstones and monuments, looking for any vamps that might be hiding, but found nothing.

She paused, listening. No sound, but vampires could be stealthy, and that tingle at the back of her neck was getting stronger. She spun around quickly and charged, hoping that whoever was following her would be caught off guard.

“Ahhh!” She nearly crashed into the leather-coated figure and let out a startled cry. The vampire, as surprised as she was, jumped backward with a yell.

“Spike! Sneak up on me like that again, and you’ll find yourself getting intimate with Mr. Pointy.”

“Sorry, love, but I don’t get intimate with things whose names start with Mister,” Spike shot back, quickly regaining his composure. “I’m all manly man, you know.” He grinned at her and licked his lower lip, which earned him the Summers eye-roll.

“I almost staked you,” she warned him. Then, muttering, she added, “Probably should have.”

“That hurts, love, after all we’ve been through.” He didn’t really mean it, though. Deep down, he was glad to see the Slayer up to trading insults with him again. It meant she was coming back to normal, back to the way she was before she died. While he enjoyed this new willing-to-spend-time-with-him Buffy, he couldn’t bear the unhappiness and the desperate need for escape that seemed to envelope her, and her dangerous familiarity for his liquor supply was starting to frighten him. He found himself actually preferring looking-for-any-reason-to-stake-him Buffy to the despairing creature she’d become.

Buffy just rolled her eyes again at his sarcasm. He knew she wasn’t going to stake him. She knew she wasn’t going to stake him. Sometimes she wondered why they bothered even pretending to play the roles. Appearances? Habit? Or because it was comforting, in the wake of their strange and unnatural friendship, to return every so often to the natural order of things.

“What do you want, Spike?” She turned and started walking again, knowing he would follow.

“Just out for a little walk,” he replied, catching up and sauntering along beside her. “A little fight if I can find it. Much like yourself.” He was careful not to let on that he’d been following her, staying out of range of her senses – or so he thought, until she noticed his presence and started stalking him. It had slowly become a habit, when he couldn’t force down his fears, couldn’t wait till she’d finished patrol for her to come to him, wondering if this would be the night she wouldn’t come, if tomorrow would be the day they’d find her body drained or broken by some monster she hadn’t cared to fight. So he’d stay hidden and just watch her, never revealing himself but always ready, speeding back to his crypt as soon as she turned in that direction, to be waiting for her when she arrived none the wiser.

Buffy sighed and accepted that she now had company on her patrol. “Giles thinks there’s a vamp gang hanging around. Lot of missing people lately, a few turning up with bite marks. Heard anything?”

“No, but if I do, I’ll be sure to tell you, so you can go kill some more of my friends.” Spike pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up.

“Hey, you wanted to play on the side of good, remember? You help us out, and I don’t kill you. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Spike exhaled smoke to disguise the smile on his face. “So there’s a whole gang of vampires out there, and Watcher boy sends you out alone? ’S not very smart of him. Think he’s losing his touch.”

Buffy shot him a sidelong glance. “I wanted to be alone.”

Spike feigned contrition. “Oh, am I bothering you, love?”

“You can stay.”

For some reason, Spike was the only one who didn’t bother her these days. She felt like he was the only one who understood her. None of her friends could possibly know what it was like to come back from the dead, to have felt completed, finished – and then to be pulled violently back to earth.

But Spike knew. And he didn’t seem to mind listening to her talk about it. Or letting her drink herself senseless and then carrying her home. She knew she shouldn’t be encouraging him in his crazy idea that he was in love with her, but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

Spike snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention. She shot him a dirty look, and was about to chew him out, but realized his finger was to his lips in a silent “shh” gesture. Cigarette in hand, he motioned to the bushes ahead of them, where she could see a vampire lurking. She pulled out her stake and started to move toward the vamp, but Spike grabbed her arm and held her back, shaking his head. Crouching behind a large monument, they watched as the vampire came out from behind the bush and headed toward a stone family-sized mausoleum. As soon as the vampire went inside, Spike turned to Buffy.

“Think we found our gang, love. You ready?”

She glared at him. “We can’t just bust in. We don’t even know how many there are.”

“Well, do a little recon, pet.” Spike waved her off and brought the cigarette back up to his lips. “You dated the big military man.”

Buffy smacked him upside the head as she headed toward the mausoleum, taking pleasure in the fact that he couldn’t hit back or his chip would activate. Spike lunged after her, his hand clenched in a fist, but settled for shaking the fist angrily to avoid a migraine.

Sneaking around the mausoleum, she found a broken stained glass window and peered in. She could see four vamps who appeared to have nested in the building and at least two human corpses.

Scurrying back to Spike, she gave him the thumbs-up sign. “Four of them,” she whispered, crouching down next to him.

Spike scoffed, snubbing the cigarette out on the monument. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Four was nothing. He could fight four by himself. But he’d let Buffy come along. She was the Slayer, after all.

Ever the gentleman, he even let her bust in the door first. “Sorry, guys. Party’s over,” she said, catching the vampires’ attention before launching herself at the closest one. Spike ran in after her, grabbing a second vamp and tossing him into the wall. He spun around and took out another with a punch as the vamp tried to attack him from behind. Spike kicked him to the ground for good measure, then grabbed an entire wooden chair and shoved it into his chest, with one of the legs right through the heart.

“Shouldn’t leave wood around, mate,” he cautioned the other vampire, the one he’d thrown against the wall. “Too tempting to intruders.”

Buffy, meanwhile, was pummeling the first vampire she’d reached. While both she and Spike were preoccupied, the fourth vamp snatched up the now-dusty chair and broke it against Buffy’s body. Momentarily caught off guard, she quickly used it to her advantage, crouching down to grab a chair leg and ducking a punch from the vampire she’d been pummeling. She jumped up and returned the punch, knocking him backwards, then swooped in with the chair leg and staked the vamp.

Spike’s vamp was up and running for the door. Spike chased him and tackled him to the ground before he could get out. He flipped the vampire onto his back and sat on him, punching him repeatedly. The vampire launched himself upward, throwing Spike off him, and made for the door again. Spike was about to run after him, but a cry from Buffy stopped him. He turned to see a vampire standing over her prone form, a two-by-four in his hands.