Chapter 5

AN* I know it’s been a long time since the last update – please don’t hate me anymore. I WILL make it all better – and soon.


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“What?” Buffy asked as she pulled herself form Dawn’s grasp and turned towards Spike. “What have you got to tell me, Spike?”

Spike could not help but stare at his slayer. She had lost weight and looked like a stranded waif. Her hair and skin were still golden, but there was a sunken look to her face. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and she looked as though she had been crying.

Mistake! His inner voice scolded him. Big Mistake! He should never have come back to Sunnyhell; he should have researched this ‘Blood Red Moon’ thing before leaving Iceland. His plan to come here, fix the problem and leave was slowly going up in smoke as he looked at the slayer.

“Answer me, Spike” Buffy barked at him in frustration.

She may look different, but the snark was till there. Smiling at her, he wondered how he would tell her of his ‘marriage’ when Dawn decided to tell her for him.

“Spike’s got a mate, Buffy.”

Mouth open and fresh tears in her eyes, Buffy turned to her sister. Dawn, still angry as hell, stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping quickly on the wooden floor. “Yeah Buffy, Spike upped and got himself a mate while he was gone.”

Turning back towards him, Buffy’s voice sounded small in the room. “You’ve got a mate?” she asked.

What was he to do? Now that the nibblet had told her he had no choice but to confirm her statement. “Yes slayer. I’ve been mated for almost six months now.”

Anger welled up inside her. Anger at herself for hoping he still loved her, anger at him for his fickle words of devotion and humiliation for jumping straight into his arms. She reacted the only way she knew how.

“My God” she exclaimed. “Didn’t take you long to get over your great all-consuming love for me, did it?”

How dare she, he thought. She had given him just one crumb the last time they met, yet she expected him to still beg at her feet.

“Looks that way, don’t it pet.” The sarcasm in his voice evident to all. “I’m not the brooding poof. I have better things to do with my unlife than wait on crumbs from your table.”

Hurt at his words, Buffy reacted before she could think about her actions. Taking a long stride towards him, she lifted her hand high to slap his face. His reactions were swift as his left hand rose and grabbed her wrist before she could connect with his face.

“No Buffy,” his voice cold with fury. “You will never touch me in anger again. Do you hear me, slayer?” Never again.”

Buffy took a step back from him, staring at the cold look in his eyes. Just minutes before he had looked at her with love in his eyes, she was sure of it, yet now he looked at her as though she was nothing. His hand was still around her wrist, but she knew she could break his hold easily. Out of choice she left her wrist in his grasp, his cool fingers warming on her skin. As she looked down to where their skin connected, Spike followed her gaze and gently let her go.

“Let’s get something straight right from the start, slayer.” Spike voice was still cold. “I’m here to help the nibblet fight this prophecy, not for you. Our time passed three years ago and we’ve both moved on.”

She knew she had not moved on. Her love for him had grown over the years. He had been the only man she had ever been with who had made her feel special during sex. In fact she had realised almost as soon as he had gone that they had not had sex, he had made love to her. She had not allowed him to say the words, but he had tried to tell her with his body how much he loved her. Her stupid pride had let him go, and now he had moved on.

As he said, their time had been three years in the past.

Mustering every ounce of inner strength she possessed, she let a smile hover on her lips.

“You’re right, Spike” she calmly spoke. “I shouldn’t have hit out like that. I was just surprised and a bit shocked. I mean, what type of vamp is willing to take you on as a mate for life. Found another Drusilla somewhere in your travels?”

If it had not been for the danger his nibblet was in, he would have walked out then, determined never to return. How dare she talk to him like this, when all he wanted do was protect her sodding family. How fucking dare she. Bitch!

Ignoring her completely, Spike turned towards Joyce. “Could you do me favour, Joyce? Ask the watcher to stop by Clem’s tomorrow with the prophecy and we’ll work on it together. When we work out how to fix this, I’ll be in touch.”

In blur of black leather, he left the house.

##

Back in the crypt Spike ripped the seal from the bottle of Jack he had bought on the way from Revello Drive. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he felt the strong liquor pour down his throat. Enjoying the burn for a few moments, he allowed the pain to replace the thoughts in his head.

She was still a fucking bitch, some things would never change. Three years he had been gone, and in all that time he had hardly touched a drink. Five fucking minutes in the bint’s company and he was back on the bottle.

He would not let her beat him. Pulling the bottle from his lips, he threw it at the wall and watched fascinated as it shattered into a thousand pieces. The smell of whiskey permeated his senses, and he shook his head laughing at his own folly. Losing the whiskey did not worry him; it was the fact that she had reduced him to this that galled.

Making his way to the kitchen, he quickly found a dustpan and brush. With deft movements, he cleaned away the glass; pouring the contents into the trash. He looked round for something to clean up the liquid. Grabbing a roll of paper towel, he finished the job he started.

He needed something to kill - now. If he stayed alone in the crypt much longer he would return to Revello Drive and have his one good day.

Opening the door of the crypt with full vampire strength, he marvelled that it stayed on the hinges. His anger was too great to suppress and he needed to vent it somewhere. Head down, he made his way from the crypt to stalk his cemetery. There had to be some big bad somewhere that needed to die, and he was determined to find it.

He had hardly gone twenty feet before he ran into Clem returning from the poker tables. “Gotta kill something, Clem” he muttered as he passed his friend. The fact that Clem had returned hours before he was expected, never registered with the furious vampire.

Dawn had phoned Clem on his cell in a panic. Spike had stormed out of the house and she was scared he would disappear again. She had calmed down quickly when faced with Spike’s anger, realising that her plan had backfired badly. Buffy had attacked him once she knew that he did not love her anymore, and she was sure Spike would not help them. Tearfully she had told Clem of how everything had went wrong. Clem had promised her that he would get back to the crypt as soon as he could and talk to his friend.

Clem wished he possessed vampire speed. Spike was quickly disappearing in the distance, and he needed to get him back. Screaming at the top of his lungs for his friend to stop, he breathed a sigh of relief when Spike stopped in his tracks. Hurrying as quickly as he could, he caught up with Spike and laid his hand on his arm.

“Come back to the crypt, Spike, please.” Clem stuttered through his rapid breathing. “Dawn called on my cell, and told me what happened.” His grip tightened on Spike’s arm as he tried to make his point. “Don’t you think you owe me a few answers too, Spike? Dawn said you’re mated and the slayer went nuts. What the hell happened tonight; and just when did you get mated?”

Spike lifted his head and stared at the quarter moon bright in the cloudless sky. Suddenly it all seemed so useless. For the hundredth time he asked himself why he had come back to Sunnyhell. He had a great life killing demons all over the planet. His mercenary talents had been sought after by the Council of Wankers, once they knew what he could do.

His bank balance was so huge that he didn’t know how to spend it all. Wolfram and Hart, his demon bankers for over a century, had invested his money well. Millions upon millions sat idling away while he chose to wallow in this hellhole of a town.

But he couldn’t leave, not while his nibblet needed him.

“Let’s go back to the crypt Clem,” he said on a sigh. “I’ll explain everything over a cup of coffee, okay?”