full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
 
Remembering
 
<<     >>
 
The wooden chair shattered against the wall with impressive force. Spike didn’t know why he kept wooden objects around him, perhaps it was the danger of it all, but right then he didn’t much care. Wooden furniture was good for breaking, even if it did leave those nasty little murder weapons lying about.

He snatched up another one of the ugly chairs, his last in fact, and hurled it against the wall. It hit even harder this time. Spike threw his arms up in the air and roared, full on game face exposed.

The reason for his rage was obvious. Having had the Slayer in the palm of his hand he had let her go. She had run off on him and he hadn’t even attempted to give chase, and for his troubles he also got a lashing to his face. His lifted his hand to his cheek and pressed his fingers tentatively to the wound. It stung like hell, and Spike was more than sure that what he was feeling was his actual cheekbone. The bitch had ripped his skin clean off leaving the bone exposed.

What pissed him off more though was that he knew, given the chance to go back in time and do it all over again, he’d do the same stupid thing. He’d let her go, he’d get half his bloody faced ripped off in the process, and then he’d be left here throwing a hissy fit over his own idiocy.

Spike was pacing the room now, trying to work through it all in his head. It was her fault, of course. It was always her bloody fault. He’d had it all worked out before hand; he’d torture her to breaking point then he’d have a taste of her and she’d be dead. Simple. The Slayer would be dead and all would be right with the world. Sure, another one would be called, but Spike would bet money that she wouldn’t be as annoying, infuriating, patronising, and beautiful as Buffy Summers.

Except, was she still beautiful now?

The sight of her scars had floored him. He’d been rooted to the spot, gulping like a sodding goldfish. Spike shook his head, annoyed with himself. He should have loved it. He should have laughed his head off and taunted her no end about it. He should’ve done a lot of things. But, yes, he realised. She was still beautiful.

Not that that was the point, he reminded himself. He’d seen a lot of beautiful women over the years, she was nothing special. What was really important right now was what the hell was wrong with him. He was Spike, William the Bloody. He wreaked bloody mayhem, he revelled in death and carnage and...

“Oh, bugger this” Spike growled to himself.

A pep talk wasn’t going to cut it. There was only one solution to this dilemma.

With no more chairs left to break he set about the sturdy wooden table over in the corner. Tattered books, candles, and etchings lay on top of it. Spike swept the contents off the table and onto the floor then lifted it up. It was heavier then the chairs but still nothing to him.

“Sir?”

He heard the voice but couldn’t see who had spoken. Spike decided it was best to ignore them right now anyway. The minions could sod off. He had a lot more things to break before he would feel even slightly better. Spike hurled the table against the wall. The loud crash echoed throughout the room and down the sewer tunnel. The sewer tunnel she had escaped down. Spike felt his fists clenching. More damage was needed.

“Sir?”

“What!” Spike spun around, growling.

Two of the idiots that worked for him stood in the tunnel entrance. Well, one was really more slumped then standing, he had an arm wrapped around the other vampire. His face was messed up pretty badly, both eyes swollen shut, cheek bloated. Spike grinned. He looked like one of those fat sumo wrestlers. Funny the things that cheered him up.

“Sir,” The more able-bodied one said, “She got Jonas. She fucked him up bad.”

Spike’s smile dropped “She?”

“The Slayer.”

He felt his face morph back into his human visage “And what exactly was ol’ Jonas doing anywhere near the Slayer?”

Jonas tried to speak but it came out as just a series of gurgles.

The other vampire answered “He was tailing her”

“Why?” Spike felt his fists shaking.

“Because she was escaping,” he answered, as if it was a no-brainer.

Spike bared his teeth, taking a step forward “Did I tell you to get the Slayer?”

Jonas looked up at him, afraid. Spike grabbed him around the throat in a vice-like grip. He tossed the vampire across the room like he was a rag-doll. Jonas hit the wall and fell to the floor in a heap, whimpering.

“I’ve got no more furniture to break,” Spike announced as he stalked up to the fallen vampire “so, you’ve been upgraded to punching bag, mate.”

He stomped his foot down onto the vampire’s already unrecognisable face.

+ + +

Buffy sat at the breakfast table in the kitchen, reading the newspaper. Usually she just read the obituaries and scouted the rest of the articles for any heads up on demon activity. There was a small mention of a young couple dying of severe neck trauma, but this was such a common occurrence in Sunnydale that it wasn’t even considered front page news anymore. She wondered for a moment if it was Spike’s work; murdering a young couple sounded right up his alley. No way to tell, though.

Her mother placed a plate of pancakes in front of her. Buffy pushed them away absently, as she continued to pretend to be engrossed in an article about the Sun Cinema being renovated. Joyce had yet to mention the cracked tiles in the bathroom but Buffy was sure she’d seen them by now. Having a Slayer for a daughter was expensive when it came to household breakages.

Not that she had the excuse of fighting a demon and accidentally harming innocent bathroom tiles. No, this had been a deliberate attack on the poor dears and her mother knew it. She also probably knew about the stinking pile of clothes Buffy had set fire to in the back garden earlier that morning.

“Buffy,” Joyce said slowly and carefully “You should eat something. You’ll waste away.”

I wish. Buffy didn’t look up from the newspaper, just shook her head and prayed her mother would leave it alone. Leave her alone. Being a typical mother, she did no such thing.

“Where were you last night? Was there some kind of...demon?”

Buffy snorted “Something like that,” she murmured.

“Well, did you get it?”

“No,” she said quietly, “but I will.”

Joyce sighed, walking over to the sink and starting on the dishes. Buffy looked up from the paper to watch her for a little while. Her mother put up with a lot of shit from her, Buffy knew that. She was doing the best she could but there probably wasn’t a chapter in the parent’s handbook on ‘What to Do When Your Teen Gets Mutilated’.

She stood and folded the newspaper, leaving it on the counter. Glancing down at the pancakes she thought about eating some just to make her mother happy. Problem was having been floating around in a tunnel full of human waste only a few hours ago Buffy wasn’t really in the mood for any kind of food. Even delicious pancake-y goodness.

So, instead, she decided now would be a good time to get some training done. If she was going to take down Spike and his gang then she would have to get into shape again. Buffy left the kitchen and walked to the basement door, pulling it open.

She glanced back and saw her mother standing in the doorway, her eyes sad.

Buffy descended the basement stairs, shutting the door behind her.

After the high school had been blown up Buffy had found herself with no place to train. She had turned her basement into a temporary place for just this purpose. Only, it hadn’t turned out so temporary. The plan had been for Giles to find her somewhere more suitable but after her scarring Buffy decided this place was good enough for her.

The basement afforded her a quiet, dark, sanctuary where she felt she could be alone. It was a little small but she could deal with that.

She picked up a staff, feeling the weight of it in her hands. The Slayer doubted she’d be using this against Spike, but who knew? Maybe it was time to go all Robin Hood on his ass. Buffy smiled to herself. She twirled the staff around; the whistling of the stick as it cut through the air was the only sound to break the silence. Buffy started her shadow fighting, jabbing the staff, sweeping it up in quick, graceful, movements as if she were fighting an invisible opponent.

Buffy closed her eyes and imagined he was in the room with her. Spike came up behind her and she spun around, slicing the staff towards him. He slid out of reach with liquid grace. The Slayer turned and stabbed the stick out quickly in a jab aimed for his solar plexus. He knocked the weapon to the side and took a few steps back from the imaginary fighter.

Buffy slowed her breathing, readied the staff in her hands and shoved it forwards at him. She imagined him catching it and pushing back on her with equal force. They stood locked in this stalemate for a few long seconds before Buffy crouched down and swept her leg out, toppling him from his feet.

He fell to the floor and she charged at him with the staff but he rolled out of the way and all she hit was the concrete floor, sending painful vibrations up her arms. Spike was behind her suddenly and she whirled around and cracked the weapon over her head. He fell to the floor with a cry.

Buffy frowned. She opened her eyes, and they instantly widened in shock.

Giles was flat on his ass on the floor, glasses askew and clutching his head whilst groaning in very real pain.

“Giles!” Buffy blinked, concerned “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her, still holding his hand to his temple “I...think I’ll live...ow.”

“Sorry,” she replied.

He gave her a small smile. Buffy knew he wanted her to return it. So, she did. Giles sat up fully and held his hand out to her so she could help him up. She started to reach out to him but froze. Looking down at his palms Buffy felt a cold shiver run up her spine. The skin on his hands had healed mostly but the white scar lines were still visible, spread across the heel of his hand and up winding around his index and middle finger.

It brought it all back to her. That day when everything had gone horribly wrong...



“Buffy!” Giles called to her as she started to walk into the dark cave.

She turned back. He stood just behind her on the sand, with Willow and Xander. They all held axes or swords. Heavy duty weaponry. Buffy had insisted that she needed to come and clear out the nest of Incinerato Demon’s but Giles had argued that she couldn’t go alone, so they had come along. She’d been doing that a lot recently – being over zealous with her slaying. Ever since Angel had left she needed something to occupy herself with before college.

“I know, I know, ‘be careful’.” Buffy rolled her eyes, but gave him a wolfish grin.

“Well, yes,” Giles nodded peering up at the sun that was beating down on them all, “But I was going to say – that perhaps sometime this summer, maybe, we could all come down here for something other than demon slaying.”

She mock-gasped “Giles! Are you suggesting that I shirk my Slayer responsibilities?”

“I’m disappointed in you, G” Xander nodded sagely “You just haven’t been the same stalwart, stuffy Brit since the Watchers fired you.”

“Made me redundant,” Giles corrected “And, as you all know, I am simply between jobs at the moment. I was only suggesting that we have all been patrolling very hard recently, you especially Buffy, and that we could use some time to ‘chill’ as you might say.”

Willow frowned “I think the word ‘chill’ has been ruined for me now.”

Xander nodded with her, and they beamed goofy grins at Giles who looked, as usual, like he was dealing with a bunch of idiots. Buffy laughed as he rolled his eyes and tilted his nose to the sky in a show of mock-Victorian snobbery.

“You got it, Giles,” Buffy tilted an invisible hat at him “Soon as we deal with these suckers, we’ll go frolic. You Watchers’ do frolic, right?” She started forward into the cave again.

Giles was close behind her “I may be slightly older than you all –”

“Slightly?” Willow choked up a laugh.

“– but I have no doubt in my mind that you won’t be able to keep up with my frolicking,” Giles finished, readying his axe.

Xander slapped his hands together “Alright, so we’ve got ourselves two bodacious babes, me – the handsome cabana boy type, and Mary Poppins over there. It’s going to be quite the party. Giles, don’t forget your sombrero.”

“I don’t own a sombrero,” Giles looked aghast.

“Sure, you don’t!” Xander grinned.

Buffy’s smile dropped as they got deeper into the cave. It was dark, but she could hear well enough. A slight shuffling sound off to her left.

“Down!” She yelled hurling herself backwards into Giles.

They all fell to the floor as a gigantic flame whooshed over them. It was gone a moment later and a big, dinosaur-looking demon appeared in its place. Buffy flipped herself up onto her feet and sidled away from her friends. The demon seemed to be torn on where to keep its attention – her or her friends.

“Hey, Barney!” She called “Over here. It’s rude to keep a girl waiting.”

It roared at her and spat another stream of fire at her. She ducked and managed to hack her axe into its side.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Giles, Xander and Willow holding their own. Giles had retreated back to entrance of the cave to make sure none of the demons escaped. Buffy twirled around and ducked underneath the demon’s large tail. She swung the axe down and embedded it in the tail. The demon screamed and whirled around to face her, breathing fire all over the place. She flipped and ducked to dodge, until it turned into something of a game. Her movements were graceful and swift, like a dancer.

Buffy had to jump to move out of the way of its injured tail as it swept towards her. She dropped into a roll then leapt up, ready to go again.. Across from her Xander was fighting another, a slightly smaller, but still formidable Incinerato demon. She saw him get shoved into the wall and worried for him, but Xander ducked out of the way as the demon blew fire at him. He got his axe back and swung it into the enemy; it fell to the ground and stayed there.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and turned around just in time to see a plume of orange fire hurtling towards her. She flung herself to the floor, then jumped back up and whirled around landing a solid kick to the Incinerato who had tried to incinerate her.

“Well, that was rude,” Buffy noted, dancing around the demon again “It’s just not done in polite circles. You wait for me to turn around and pummel your dinosaur ass.”

She twirled her axe around and motioned for the demon to come get her but it stayed put, eying her. The Slayer heard Willow call out Xander’s name, and she turned to see he had run to assist her. She turned back and swung at her demon. It dodged her blow and swung its large tail at her. Buffy jumped over the tail, smiling, “Come on, Barney, you’ve got to do better than that. Maybe –”

She never did finish her quip.

She heard the noise of the flames behind her, but couldn’t turn in time. The heat against her back was scalding and that was before the fire even touched her skin. She felt her shirt go up in flames first and then felt the burning against her skin, boils appeared within a second and popped just as fast.

All the while Buffy was screaming so loudly her lungs were protesting, but she didn’t even feel it. She flailed around; panicking, forgetting anything she had even learned about fire safety and instead could only think of the pain as it fired off what seemed to be all the nerves in her body.

Something barrelled into the side of her throwing her to the sandy floor. She was still screaming as Giles rolled her backwards and forwards over the ground, yelling her name. He used his bare hands to beat out the remaining flames, not even thinking about himself. Buffy couldn’t stop screaming. Then, mercifully she passed out. Her eyes fluttering closed.
...



She blinked, still looking down at his hand. Giles seemed to realise and pulled himself up, dusting off his pants and coming to stand in front of her.

“Buffy?”

She knew she still had a glazed over look in her eyes as she finally turned to look at him, “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Sure.”

Giles looked at her, sadly, “I worry about you, Buffy,” he said softly, “I worry, and I care, because I can’t help but do that. You seem so distant and lonely. You don’t have to be either of those things. I’m always here for you.”

Buffy looked back at him, silent for a long moment. “I’m fine, Giles,” she sighed eventually, “I was just getting a little training in.”

His shoulders slumped, “Oh, yes? Any new villains I should know about?”

Buffy shook her head, “No one new.”

+ + +

Spike laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. You could only beat someone up for so long before it started to take its toll on you. He walked over to the pile of broken furniture he’d left on the floor. Picking up half of a chair he snapped the leg off and walked up to Jonah.

The vampire deserved it. Taking matters into his own hands. No one was to go after the Slayer unless he said so. Spike staked the pitiful excuse for a vampire and dusted his hands off, turning to Jonah’s pal who he could never remember the name of.

“Listen...” He started.

“Spud,” The vampire filled him in.

“Really?” Spike arched an eyebrow.

Spud just shrugged.

“Okay. Listen, Spud,” Spike walked over to him, hands behind his back, “What do you know about the Slayer?”

“She’s short, blonde, and a pain in the ass!” Spud laughed.

Spike laughed along with him good-naturedly, “Anything, else? She got any injuries?”

“I don’t think so,” Spud shrugged, “Nothing ’cept those burns.”

Spike gritted his teeth, “You know about the scars?”

“Everyone knows.”

“I see,” Spike tilted his head “And none of you halfwits thought it might be a good idea to fill me in on this?”

Spud blinked, “We thought you knew. Everyone knows!”

“Not me!” Spike grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him up against the wall, “I didn’t know!”

He stared into the vampire’s scared eyes and knew one thing was obvious. He knew what he had to do with Buffy Summers. And it had to be done tonight.

“Spud, my old pal,” Spike grinned, letting go of the vampire and letting him slip to the floor, “Gather the troops. I want ten of our best. We’re going after the Slayer.”

“...you mean...?”

“Yep, we’re gonna have ourselves a feast.”

The sooner she was out of his life, the better. The bitch just confused him no end, and he couldn’t have that. He was a vampire, she was the Slayer. This was how it was done, he convinced himself. She had to die.
 
<<     >>