Just A Fling

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews. I started this story as a lark and am so glad people are enjoying it.
Greyangel, thanks for straightening me on on fish and chips. Thanks.


Chapter 15 – Living With Your Decisions

*****

Buffy was struck dumb and motionless. What the hell had he just been telling her? The information didn’t compute yet. It just rolled around in her head like the rocks some people thought were up there. She started to follow but found her feet frozen, giving her time so she could slowly process his words.

Damn. The chip hadn’t worked since he shocked himself at Frankenstein’s lab. Ok, got it. He had unfortunately been right in that she swore to fight him and do her best to dust him if the chip ever stopped working. But…and this was a big “but,” he said that now he didn’t want to kill her or even fight her. Not anymore, he had said. And again she could see before her eyes the proof of his regret, the sorrow etched on his face. He had definitely meant every word of his speech. That was the only solace for her. He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but on the other hand, she understood his need for survival.

Buffy was having such a hard time letting all the ramifications sink in that she still didn’t follow him. In fact, even though she wasn’t quite sure what to think, she did know she didn’t want him to leave her. With that thought, she finally gave chase. “Spike…SPIKE…” She looked into the square, but the multitude of the people had swiftly swallowed him up.

She ran into the square, pain coursing through her with every step, not physical but felt all the same. No, that wasn’t quite true. The pain was located in her heart. But she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of him. Actually, kicking herself, she knew he had gotten quite a head start while she was thinking in the alley. She scanned the crowd and then landed on a plan. She went into Virgin Records and up on one of the higher floors and looked down, but still no Spike, or not that she could tell through her tears.

‘But what are you crying for? A soulless killer?’ Half of Buffy fussed at herself. ‘Have you lost your mind?’ The first time they had met, he made it clear that his goal was to make her number three on his slayer hit list. But he had flipped the coin in that he didn’t want to now. It wasn’t like she had treated him well before this trip. However, that was before she had gotten to know him. He wasn’t the monster that she had thought, or the monster that he had claimed to be. It was like all that bought blood and being around humans had changed him, made him more…human. He had treated her like an ally on this trip. Actually, like more than an ally. He treated her as a comrade in a fight and a treasured lover.

That’s when the situation since the shocks that knocked out the chip struck her. He had drunk from her. Fangs in her breast –dangerous. And worse, in Hyde Park, she had let him drink from her jugular. It would have been his perfect opportunity. She had let down her guard and could have been dead in a matter of seconds. But, no, he had done it for both of their pleasures. In a nutshell, he chose not to kill her. What kind of freak demon was he? One sensitive to her and to himself? He was such an enigma that her head was starting to swim. She didn’t think she would or could ever understand him, but she wasn’t even going to get a chance to now. Damn. Then that brought back the tears. And the pain. She wasn’t going to get a chance to know him better, and she was surprised how much she regretted that loss. Bur she also doubled her determination to find him.

*****

Spike made it into and then out of the north side of the square, running until his legs could take no more. Once stopped, he struck his fist against the nearest wall. “Bloody fucking hell.” Then he looked up and shook his fist at the sky. “The feelings weren’t supposed to be like this,” he yelled before he deflated to the ground. “Wasn’t supposed to happen at all. What happened to straight up, no strings sex?” He didn’t know or understand what had developing between the slayer and himself, and right now, he didn’t want to. His chip no longer working should be a blessing, but no, it felt like a curse. What the bleedin’ hell was he thinking? He wanted to blaze a bloody path through his hometown – didn’t he? Then he felt a drop of water land on his fist. Wiping his face, he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. He was shedding tears for the Slayer. And to tell the truth, the split with her ripped his heart apart. What had happened to him?

Ok, he had to find one or numerous bottles of whiskey. Ten minutes later, Spike was leaving a liquor store via a broken window holding a large bottle in each hand. He could have paid for them if the store was open, but smashing through the window and stealing his booze that was his path to oblivion was so much more gratifying. Now a place to crash and to drink the rest of the night and the next day away. That was the plan.

All he ended up doing was staring at the ceiling of his new hotel room and wishing he had passed out already. How had things gotten so bloody buggered up? When had his relationship with the Slayer changed? Scratch that. He knew when this trouble with her began. The first time she had climbed into his bed. Maybe…yeah, if pressed, he had to admit she had always turned him on from the beginning, but that was always rolled in a twisted kind of way with his instinctual hatred for a slaughterer of his kind. However, that dangerous little lady came in a gorgeous package. And it wasn’t just her packaging. He also had been attracted to her personality and her attitude. Sassy, sarcastic, and a woman that was still young while knowing the ropes taught at the school of hard knocks. And getting to know her better over the last few days made her all the more appealing. Now she was Buffy the Woman and the Slayer rolled up into one, and her essence called to him. She was his mate. That brought him jerked up into a sitting position. A mate was serious business for a vampire. She was his match, not mate. Match, match, match.

Trying to get away from his slip, maybe a Freudian slip if he cared to examine it, he thought he would play a little football by kicking himself back and forth against the walls for a while. He was smart leaving her. That’s it, he was brilliant. If he had stayed, what was he going to do? Stop killing for her, something he was sure she would insist upon. ‘But you already have,’ a voice whispered in his head. ‘You haven’t killed since the chip stopped working. You didn’t even feed tonight when you could have and not even have to hide it from the Slayer.’ Spike pushed back the thought. ‘Bugger, it’s like I’m growing a frigging conscience.’

Not wanting to confront his thoughts head on, Spike kicked the ball to the other side of his head. He suspected…no, he knew he was an idiot for leaving her. That was the most confusing part. How could he have such feelings for a slayer? Damn, he was back to the same tune. No, it was not just the slayer that he admired. It was Buffy she had let him see. It was Buffy that he had feelings for. His arms felt empty lying in this bed. With those thoughts came one, surprisingly strong regret. He had never gone to sleep and awoken with her in his arms. Had never watched her eyes open and focus on his face. He could visualize her slow smile. Saddened, he took another swallow, one salute to opportunities lost.

Bloody fucking hell, what was he doing? Why was he doing this to himself? He was torn apart. Either stake the Slayer or be staked, or lose his bed mate, and, as he found out, she was his equal in all things – fighting skills and sex. What an excellent combination that he no longer had access to.

Then there was good o’ Sunnyhell, and worse yet was the stick up the arse Scoobies. They would want an explanation. It was silly that she would admit their liaison to her friends. ‘Hi, I’m having a hot affair with a soulless demon. Oh, did I tell you that it’s Spike?’ It might give the whelp a heart attack. No, he had no doubt. By his way of thinking, Buffy would go back hiding their true relationship, and come to him when she got the itch. Yeah, that was another reason to leave the Slayer. He just couldn’t be the man in the closet, hidden from any scrutiny of Buffy. He found that he wanted to tell the world that she was his lover, and that he had feelings for her and to hell with her little, exclusive group. To hell with the whole world, except for Buffy. She deserved better.

*****
In the southern part of London, Buffy lay on her bed and starred at the ceiling, unknowingly mirroring Spike’s pose while she replayed the past in her mind. She had seen Angel walking away, and it had hurt, to say the very least. She had shed tears for Angel, but this was Spike she was crying about. He had no soul; he prided himself on being evil. She should be jumping up and down with glee to be rid of him, or she should be mad that she hadn’t been able to stake him. But she was disappointed by his leaving. No, that wasn’t being truthful. She was in pain, hurt because he had left her. The tears fell. So here she lay, trying to reconcile the fact that she was yearning for a soulless vampire. To make it worse, she wanted the irritating pest back.

And back in Sunnydale. What would she have done about that? ‘Hi, guys, Spike and I are getting horizontal now. In fact, it is more, so…’ Giles would be stunned then furious. Xander would be disgusted. Willow would be confused. But that was it. Buffy wasn’t confused anymore, and she was the important one in this. It was her choice for her life. Giles should be glad that she had a backup that was her equal. Xander should be happy there was another guy in the mix. And Willow should be happy for her. Buffy was happy. All should be happy.

Buffy slept the next day and was at Piccadilly Circus by dusk. And the next night. She methodically walked through the crowd all night. It was a tricky plan in that there were so many goths and punks with leather jackets and bleached hair, but she checked out everyone. She didn’t even know if he would come back to the area. It was just a hunch she had. And hunting him gave her time to think. She could say that she was searching for Spike because she needed to stake him. She could say she was hunting him so he could help her around the city, so he could help her fight the evil that was chasing her down.

She didn’t know how their relationship evolved the way it had. It was suppose to be just sex, but now she had feelings for Spike. Way of the wacko. Then this thought struck her. Had he felt the same way? The second night after Spike’s departure found Buffy sleeping in Spike’s bed as if she could divine Spike’s thoughts through the place he had slept.

*****

Piccadilly Circus again. She had been looking for Spike for the last two nights with no luck. Call her crazy, but for some reason, Buffy guessed that Spike would eventually come back to the place that he had left her. All she needed was to be there and alert, constantly scanning the crowd.

The first night had been a total bust. Ordinary, run-of-the-mill vampires wandering around the square hunting. She, however, had a mission, which was looking for one smart mouthed, bad ass vampire, but she couldn’t help killing some of the demons in the dark allies. Determined, she stayed and searched until daylight. She didn’t know why she thought she would find him in that particular square. Maybe it would be like returning to the scene of a crime. The second night looked to be a long one also. The heavy clouds were out again, so the vampires were out earlier in the square. As the sun was setting, she could feel a few with some power and some minions, but nothing special.

Eleven o’clock the third night found Buffy standing on a sidewalk in Piccadilly Circus again. She was going to charge things up. Go back to the basics, back to the first lesson Giles had ever taught her. She closed her eyes and extended her senses, reaching as far as the edges of the people in the square. She was on a mission to find Spike, but she wasn’t surprised to feel numerous vampires nearby. She already knew about them, but not the right one - yet. She walked around to a new spot, and again extended her senses. With all the vamps she sensed, she itched to grab her stake, but she was sticking to the plan this time. Calming down, she used her slayer skills again, and…oh my god, success, she felt him. She knew him. As she focused on him, his unique feel was coming in loud and clear. She knew the direction and approximate distance. Since her lack of height made it difficult to see above the crowd, now all she had to do was follow her senses. She had him pegged and wasn’t going to let go.

Spike was walking near the statue of Aros, scanning the square for vampires. He had just come out of a drunken stupor since leaving Buffy, and he’d had good reason for the monumental binge. His feelings for the Slayer were just…well, wrong. To make it worse, the same was true for her. How can a white-hat slayer care for a murderer of hundreds? It was just wrong.

He had already dusted a few vamps just for kicks. But then…a tingle ran up his spine and settled in his heart. The Slayer. He thought he sensed the slayer. No bloody way. Why would she come back here? Shouldn’t she be out looking for the villains trying to kill her? He stretched his senses in the direction he intuitively thought she was. He knew her distinct feel, a warmth as if it were only for him. He took the chance, and quickly shifted into his demonic façade to sense her more thoroughly. Yes, it was her. Spike stopped but didn’t turn around. Good, at least he knew she was still alive. Those bleeding literary villains hadn’t killed her.

Spike could feel her coming up behind him. The tingles that she sent up his spine now felt like sparks that only she could cause. Sparks that felt oh so right. He had to know how she felt, but to tell the truth, he was hard pressed to face her. Mind made up, he decided that he wasn’t going to exist in limbo or with the fear that one night she would try to kill him or, even worse, that he would kill her. He was stunned by how much he cared if she lived or died. In fact, he chose to give her the opportunity to take him out without so much as a fight. He went against his survival instincts and exposed his back to make himself an easy on her. She wouldn’t even have to look into his face; he knew he wouldn’t want to. He purposely made himself an easy target. He stood there, vulnerable, laying his fate in the hands of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

She knew what he was doing. He knew she was there. Normally his movements were graceful and fluid, but now he was stiff like a robot just going through the motions. Spike was leaving it up to her. Stake him or not. She thought about it…for about half a second before making up her mind. In fact, she had already made her mind up the first night she went looking for him. At first during that first night, she had of course told herself that he was evil, and she was going to stake him. The second night she admitted the truth to herself. He had said the key words. “I haven’t fed and don’t want to.” And the words he had said after he had gone out on his own, free to kill at will but not doing so. “I could have…” That had done it. Could have but didn’t. She could have feelings for such a vampire. He must have some feelings for her to give up a vampire’s main activity during their unlife. Yet another example that he was a truly unusual vampire. She wanted him back. It was that simple.


TBC

Reviews are greatly appreciated. I am trying to explain their feeling more (a change for me), and I would love to know what you think.