AUTHORS: dru as Buffy & Evil Willow as Spike (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Three Phases
PAIRING : Buffy/Spike
RATING : NC17
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE: We wrote this as role-play
on Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of
our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!
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Can't
fucking believe she left me for a Chaos demon. I gave her a whole bloody
century of my unlife. I was GOOD to her, too! I took care of her when Darla
kicked us out, didn't I? I took her to Sunnyhell to get the slayer's blood to
make her well. And she gave me a broken heart, as thanks for it all.
Okay,
fine, I sent our sire to Hell, so she did, technically, have reason to be mad.
But it's not like I could let him unleash Hell on earth. There's a reason we
don't hang out with other demons. They aren't too fond of us. So I didn't see
the fun in having them all take over. He would never have listened to reason,
though. Being trapped by his sodding soul made him more psychotic than he ever
was before. So I did the only thing I could.
Damn it,
I did it for her, too. He wasn't good to her. Not like I was. I would've given
her anything she wanted.
But no
use cryin' over spilled blood. Damn, I need a good feed. I've been moping for
too bloody long. Where the hell am I, anyway?
L.A. I
s'pose that's as good a place as any to stop, before the sun comes up in a few
hours. Get a few humans to feed on, find a nice abandoned warehouse, then
figure out where it is I'm *going.*
"Keep
the change, Sweetheart," he says.
I look
down to my palm. A nickel.
"Gee,
thanks ever so much," I comment as I walk away. "Asshole."
"Anne,
take your break," Paul says.
"Thanks."
I rip off my apron. I need a cigarette. It's the only thing that seems to keep
me calm.
I'm
going out of my mind. This city, this place, the world... I'm choking.
As I get
out to the alley and light the cigarette, I have to laugh.
I'm
choking in this world and the only peace I find is with this little roll of
death in my hand. Between my fingers.
I take a
drag. A long puff. Smoke fills my lungs and makes me feel warm. I can see how
people get addicted to these. Not like I *am*. Slayer powers and such, I'm
sure. My body is incapable of addiction. Except to love... and we're *not*
gonna go there.
"EEEEE!"
I turn
toward the darkness. Something is there. Something bad. Something evil. But I
just can't seem to care.
So many
screams I've heard, a few I've stopped, but this city keeps on screaming. So
what's the difference?
I take
another puff.
Four
more minutes.
I rest
my head back against the wall and close my eyes, letting the smoke fill my nose
and ooze out of my mouth slowly.
Damn,
that was good. I drop the girl and walk out to the street. L.A. wouldn't be a
terrible place to stay, for a while. It's certainly not lacking in my favorite
food source, that much is certain.
Happy
meals on legs.
I wonder
if Slayer remembers that little talk, too? I know she won the fight with
Angelus, because I knew it, when he left this earth. I felt it. He was my sire,
and I couldn't change that fact. Even if I did hate him.
Shit. I
have got to stop brooding. He's gone. I did what I had to do. Dru's gone. Now I
need to move on.
I reach
in my pocket for my pack of cigarettes. Shit. One more. Time to stock up,
again. I see a convenience store on the corner and head toward it.
"ANNE?!
You out there, Girl?" I hear Paul shouting.
Took too
long again. I always do. My five minutes turn into fifteen and my half-hours
turn into hours. But he needs waitresses and not too many girls are banging
down his door looking for employment so...
"Yeah,
I'm here. Sorry," I say weakly and walk back inside.
Two more
hours. Two more and I go ho- I go to the apartment, which isn't that bad, if
you like crap.
"Table
nine is waiting to order. After that, table fifteen and ten."
"Got
it," I confirm and grab the apron from him as I head through the kitchen.
I'm just
so happy.
Not.
Okay. All
better now. I love being a vampire. All I did was slip into gameface and the
poor kid behind the counter ran screaming from the store. And so did everyone
else. Of course they have security cameras but who's gonna believe their eyes
when they see it? A monster? In L.A.? Monsters don't exist.
Like I
said, I love being a vamp.
I grabbed
a couple cartons of cigarettes and stuffed them in my duster pockets. And
now... I've got several hours to kill. And no clue what to do with those hours.
Damn, I
miss Dru. She made the idea of eternity sound like fun. Now it's just...
eternity. Gets pretty boring, to tell ya the truth.
I get
back in the car and drive down the street. A few hookers smile and wave at me.
Sorry, girls, not interested. Not yet, anyway.
Then I
notice all-night diner. I pull into the parking lot and stop. Dunno why. No,
that's not true. I do know why. It's because I want a little company, for a
little while. Even if it's complete strangers, and dumb humans at that. It's
better than being alone, though. And a nice cup of coffee wouldn't be a
terrible thing.
I walk
inside and sit at an empty booth. I look around, at the usual mix of truckers
and other travelers. A few other people who probably don't have anywhere else
to be. I see a couple waitresses running around, both clearly over-worked and
not thrilled with their job. And who could blame 'em, I wonder, when I notice
the manager. He's scowling at them and barking orders, but not raising a hand
to help out. Asshole.
He just
might end up being desert.
"ANNE!"
He yells again. "Table four needs a waitress and you're it."
"Yeah,
on it."
I don't
even look at customers anymore.
I used
to, when I first started, I'd look and smile and try and be polite. And then
they started smacking my ass or making comments about my chest and that's when
I decided that humans, on a whole, aren't really worth the effort.
The
effort to know *or* save.
I stare
at the floor. I know it by heart, every tile, every stain, which stains are in
front of which tables... I mean, no one expects you to be happy working the
night shift at a diner in the bad part of downtown Los Angeles.
"What'll
it be?" I ask, staring at my pad.
I see her
approaching and I think I must be losing my bloody mind. I even pinch myself,
wondering if I've dreamt all of this. But ow, so no. It really is her. Buffy.
The slayer.
In L.A.?
Why?
She
doesn't even look up from her order pad. "What'll it be?"
Okay,
even more interesting is that her slayer sense didn't alert her to the presence
of a demon nearby. She doesn't even flinch. Nothing. And when I see how pale
she is, and the dark circles under her eyes, I think I know why. She's beyond
noticing much of anything.
She's
mourning the loss of someone she loved. Something we have in common, I guess.
"Coffee and a breakfast special, Luv." I watch her closely, ready to
defend myself, if my recognizable voice snaps her back into slayer-mode.
"Coffee
and a breakfast special, Luv."
There
are only two people I know that speak like that and I don't wanna see either
one.
My head
snaps up and- it's Spike.
Sitting
*here* in LA in *my* diner.
I drop
my pad and rip the apron off and tear out of the diner as fast as my legs can
take me. Air is not important. I don't need this. I don't want this. I don't
wanna think about anything from before.
Ever
again.
So I
just run.
Of all
the things I was expecting, that wasn't one of them
But
thinking now isn't an option. Instinct takes over and I chase her. Part of me
says it's the desire to kill a third slayer. Another part of me though...
No. I
want to kill her. That's the reason. The *only* reason. And she's at a clear
disadvantage, so it'll be easy. So easy.
Maybe too
easy.
My lungs
burn, craving oxygen, which seems to be in short supply.
I just
run and run, as fast as I can, through the city.
I don't
even know if he's following me. I don't care.
If I run
fast enough, I can run through this world into the next where I *didn't* send
Angel to Hell. Where I *couldn't*.
My legs
are weak. I can't breathe.
I
collapse onto the pavement and try to claw my way through it. Straight onto
Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
I can't
breathe. I can't feel my body. I can't feel anything but my heart pounding my
chest.
I give
up. It's so much easier. I just fall limp against the pavement and pray for
death.
Once upon
a time, she probably coulda outrun me. But not anymore. She's obviously not
keeping in shape. After five blocks, she slumps to the ground on her knees. I
catch up and stand there for a minute.
I still
can't believe it. The slayer's in L.A. But not the slayer anymore, is she? I
doubt she's even tried to fight a demon lately.
And I
could kill her. Just walk over and sink my fangs into her throat and drink down
the powerful blood she still has in her. So why don't I want to do that?
"S-
Buffy," I say. "Quite a reaction to someone asking for the breakfast
special. Is it really that bad?" I ask. I know, it's a pathetic attempt at
a joke. And I shouldn't be trying to make her smile but I can't help it. I was
always drawn to her fire, her inner strength. I don't like thinking of the possibility
that *Angelus* made it all go away. I was supposed to break her, damn it!
Yeah,
that's why I'm being nice to her. Makes perfect sense.
I look
up at him while I clutch my chest and hope that the air never comes. I'll
wither away and die at my enemies feet.
"Kill
me," I pray to him weakly.
I growl
and grab her arms, pulling her to her feet. "Snap the fuck out of
it!" I yell. "He's dead! Gone! It's not the end of the world, Buffy.
In fact, it was all done to STOP the end of the word.
"And
you know what?" I add. "If *Angel* has any way of knowing what
happened, there's no doubt in my mind he's glad you did what you did. You saved
everyone, Buffy. Exactly what he would've expected of you."
Again,
why am I trying to make her feel better? Not sure. I want to believe it's
because if she's not around to fight, eternity really will be boring. She's the
first challenge, the only slayer I wasn't able to kill. And I know, I could
kill her now, but it doesn't seem right. If it's *too* easy, it won't be any
fun.
"HE
DOES KNOW!" I scream as I swing at him.
My
entire body screams in pain. Pain from the pain and pain from not having worked
out in so long.
But the
violence feels good. Natural.
So I hit
him again, in the chest, and again and again. "HE'S IN HELL!" I
scream as I punch him more and my entire body is shaking. "He *does*
know!" I say as I just go limp. I'm tired. So tired.
I'm
crying for once. For the first time, I'm crying.
I look
up at him once more, "Kill me," I repeat. "Kill me and make it
stop. *Please*," I beg.
"Sorry,
Pet, but I won't do that," I say. When she screams and punches at me
again, I just take it, as I did the other blows. She used to be able to hurt
me, but now her punches are weak. And maybe it's because I've always been a
sucker for the not-quite-sane females. Or maybe it's because it's Buffy and
I've always been attracted to her. But whatever the reason, when she's done
hitting and starts to slump to the ground, I wrap her in my arms and hold her
against me.
"NOOO!"
I scream as I start to fall. I feel his arm slip around me. "NO!" I
push him away and fall down again.
Dammit!
WHY WON'T MY LEGS WORK?!
It's
*so* frustrating!
I just
want it to stop. I want everything to stop. This pain in my heart. The noise in
my head. The sound of the ripping skin... the resistance against the sword...
the look in his eyes...
"Make
it stop," I plead one more time. "Please, just make it stop."
And then
the world goes black.
Well, of
all the ... I sigh and pick her up. She's way too light, hasn't been eating
enough. I walk back to my car, with her in my arms. None of the few people who
pass even bat an eye at us. Guess they assume she's a drug overdose or
somethin'. Or they don't care. Likely the latter one of the two.
Her
breathing and heart rate are steady so I'm not worried about her. She probably
passed out from exhaustion. I lay her in the back seat and shut the door. I get
in the driver's seat and hope she stays passed out 'til I get to a hotel.
Because apparently I decided to help her (again) and forgot to tell myself of
this decision.
Oh well.
Like I said, I'm a sap for helpless women types. Bloody hell. I never shoulda
stopped in L.A.
"...GO
TO HELL! *I* did!"
"NOOO!"
I scream as I jolt awake.
I'm
moving.
In a
car.
I don't
remember *getting* in a car.
I sit up
and remember Spike... I glance over. Spike's car. Spike's driving.
I'm too
tired and weak to fight. Maybe he'll take me back to his lair and feast on me
for a week. It wouldn't be anything I'm not already feeling. Eaten from the
inside out.
But I
know different.
I relax
my head back on the seat. "You're not going to kill me, are you?" I
ask, already knowing the answer.
I glance
up at the rear-view mirror. She doesn't look like she wants to jump out of the
car, so I relax a little. "I think you already know the answer to that,
Buffy. You know me, after all."
I nod
because I *do* know him.
"You
already killed two," I say. "But with me? You'll play." But
really, the idea doesn't scare me. Torture. Hell, I'm actually looking
*forward* to feeling something.
Real
pain.
"You
can't hurt me, though," I say as I lay back down on the seat.
"There's nothing left to hurt."
"I'm
not-" I stop myself before I admit I'm not interested in hurting her right
now. But when I look in the rear-view again, she's asleep. She probably needs
it.
Okay,
gotta find a hotel. Something halfway decent. Because even though I will sleep
in crypts or sewers if I have to, I prefer not to. Maybe it's because I lived
with Angelus and Darla for so long, and they had this thing about being
respectable and neat and clean and... Okay, I hated that about them. Mocked
them every chance I could. But they had a point about not sharing living
quarters with rats and cockroaches.
Even
vampires have their standards.
Finally,
I see a nice looking hotel and stop. I turn to make sure Slayer's still asleep.
Yeah, she's out. I run inside and get a room, using one of many fake ID's I
have. Got it off a guy I killed yesterday, and put my picture on it.
Of course
the really useful item I got off him was his Mastercard, with a $10,000 limit.
I keep expecting it to be cut off, but it hasn't yet. Guess he didn't have
anybody who's missed him yet.
Lucky me.
I jerk
awake. Again.
Sleeping
doesn't seem to happen these days. I'm programmed to wake up every ten minutes
now. Ten minutes of my dreams are all I can take.
I look
around. We're outside a hotel. He's probably killing someone for the room as I
sit here.
I just
sit up and draw my knees up to my chest. I wrap my cardigan around me. I'm
cold.
I rest
my head on my knees and just sit. Stupid? Probably. But what else am I gonna
do?
I mean,
it's Spike. He's a vampire. He'll probably torture me. Or hurt me. Or worse.
But,
he's the only one who knows and he's the only one hear. And I guess it's
pointless to run. My legs won't work anyway and he's ten times stronger than me
right now. And I'm semi-morbidly curious as to why he *hasn't* snapped my neck
yet.
So I sit and wait.
TBC
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