Escape

One Week Later

Buffy clutched the stake tightly in her hand, every nerve ending in her body on full alert as her eyes scanned the cemetery for any signs of unusual activity.

It was Friday, the day before Quentin was due to return and record her progress in training, which Buffy was thoroughly dreading. And it was also Buffy's first night patrolling alone. She'd taken to the lessons like a fish to water, absorbing every new move as though it were second nature to her. Which it was, more or less. But now, for the first time, it actually seemed like this truly was her calling. Not that this made Buffy any more enthused about her duties at the slayer, but she did feel slightly more confident in combat situations, and felt she could fully learn all the fancy skills and moves she needed in no time.

Every day that week, it had been the same routine. Training at Giles' apartment, taking out her frustrations on a punching bag, followed by Giles accompanying her on nightly patrols. Giles, though strict when it came to Buffy's obligations as the slayer, was pretty good about letting her visit with her mother for about an hour every day, because he knew that after three years they had a lot of catching up to do. Joyce, of course, wanted Buffy to stay at home, but Giles had his orders from the council that Buffy stay under his care until further notice. So she stayed in his guest bedroom, feeling lonely and melancholy most of the time, though happy to see her mother again. Buffy had no opportunity to attempt to contact any of her friends, and she half wondered if they'd even remember her after all those years.

So many things were different, so much had changed, and yet Sunnydale somehow had remained exactly the same. Though it felt even less inviting this time, if that were at all possible.

Buffy had only been patrolling for about an hour when she felt those familiar tingles course up and down on spine, every hair on her body standing up, her muscles coiled and ready to attack. A twig snapping behind her told her that whatever it was was right behind her, probably assuming her to be some helpless red riding hood, which always worked to Buffy's advantage as her opponent was thus taken off guard by her unexpected strength.

Pausing for a brief second, Buffy allowed her assailant to get slightly closer before she sprang into action. The stake flew through the air as she spun around quickly and instinctively sunk the pointed wood square into the demon's chest. Though the stake had only gone in about an inch when a cold hand gripped hers in a bone crunching hold, preventing her from finishing what she started. It was only then that Buffy realized who it was.

Her eyes slowly traveled upward over a black clad chest until finally meeting the blue eyes of the very person, or rather, vampire, she hadn't expected to see again for a long time.

"Surprise," He muttered coyly, giving her a firm shove backward so she released the stake, which remained embedded in Spike's chest. Using both hands, he yanked it free, allowing himself to wince briefly before he turned his attention back to the stunned slayer.

"Seems you're learning fast, goldilocks." He grinned, tossing the stake back to her, which she caught with one hand. "Let's just see how fast."

Not wasting a moment, her eyes narrowed and she charged at him, jumping last second and landing a flying kick to his chest that knocked him clear off his feet. Spike was standing again the next instant, though his face, now morphed into the deeply ridged features of a vampire, held a look of slight surprise.

"Nice moves, love. I'm impressed."

Suddenly, he lashed out, catching her hard on the chin and causing her to reel back a few steps from the force of the blow. "Well, not that impressed," He added with a shrug.

Buffy shook off the initial blast of pain and regained her fighting stance, knees slightly bent and stake held at the ready.

"Back so soon?" She quipped. "Thought you wanted to wait a few years."

"Yeah, well, got a little impatient. Decided on killing you now."

They were circling each other now in the center of the dark graveyard, keeping their distance as each waited to make their move.

Buffy held out her arms at her sides in a gesture of invitation. "So? Come and get me," She challenged.

"With pleasure." And then he was running at her, full speed. However, Buffy jumped out of his path last second, sending Spike inadvertantly flying into a nearby headstone, the top of it breaking off in chunks as his body smashed into it full force and landed soundly on the slick grass. Spike took a moment to dust himself off, looking only briefly shaken before he regained his composure.

Buffy glared at him in disbelief.

"You know what I think?"

Examining the damage done to his beloved duster and coming up fairly empty, Spike cast his gaze in her direction. "By all means, enlighten me," He muttered wryly.

Buffy licked her lips, green eyes shining with fury. "I think you're playing some kind of sick game." She clenched the stake even tighter still as she continued speaking. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, Spike. I mean, you claim to want me dead. But then you let me go to the council, saying you'd rather fight me when it's more of a challenge, after I've 'had the proper training and all that rot'" She said the last part in a mocking British accent, attempting a crude imitation that made Spike's lips curl into an amused smirk. "But then you show up with that gem when I'm only a week into my training... So what exactly happened to the 'wanting more challenge' part?"

Spike was now leaning casually against a headstone, arms crossed in front of his chest as though he were incredibly bored by the whole conversation.

"What can I say, I'm a complicated guy."

Buffy snorted, shaking her head. "You're a coward," She spat.

"That right?"

Without warning, he pounced, delivering a kick that she dodged with ease. Though he managed to catch her with a second kick, the side of her hip taking the brunt of the impact. As Buffy lashed out in retaliation, he caught her fist with one hand and held on, his eyes boring holes into hers.

"Most of my kind tuck their tails and run from the likes of you. I, on the other hand, seek you lot out." He cocked an eyebrow, clearly wanting to goad her. "Personally, I like to think of slayers as the other white meat."

Buffy yanked her hand free.

"That the best you can do?" She smashed her fist into his nose, instantly following through with a second jab that he managed to dodge so that it merely glanced the side of his jaw. Buffy took another powerful swing at him which he blocked, deflecting her fist with his arm.

"Not even close."

"Good, 'cuz I'm not even tired."

They were back to circling each other again, feet sliding over the damp grass that covered the cemetery.

"You'll be tired soon enough," Spike returned, flashing a wicked smile. "We could dance all night and you still wouldn't beat me."

"Hence the 'coward' part," Buffy stated pointedly, eyebrows raised. She could tell she'd struck a nerve when Spike snarled at her, the ridges in his forehead growing even deeper, yellow eyes glistening brightly in the moonlight with their own fire.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Please. You say you want challenge, but show up wearing that almighty invincibility ring that makes it impossible for me to beat you? That's what we mere humans refer to as 'cowardice.'" She paused, "Or just insane troll logic."

"Thought all you had to do was rip it off my finger," Spike reminded her, tilting his head slightly to one side, and Buffy nodded.

"True. But that's not the point-"

Spike cut her off abruptly. "And what a sodding hypocrite you are. I'm a coward? You're the one who went into hiding from the big bad slayer burden for three bloody years..." Buffy clenched her jaw, and Spike knew he too had hit a nerve. He'd pushed her buttons. And now it was time to rub salt in the wound. "What's the matter love? Afraid of hearing the truth?"

Unable to hear anymore, Buffy leapt into a spinning kick and caught Spike on the flat of his back, making him bend forward under the force of the blow. Moving at warp speed, she grabbed his flailing arm, forcing him to remain locked in this prone position so she could jab her knee hard into his stomach, once, twice.... But as she poised to hit him a third time in the stomach, he let out a fierce inhuman growl and twisted his arm free with a sudden burst of strength, his fist catching Buffy sharply in the ribs.

Winded, Buffy struggled for a brief moment to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her, which gave Spike ample time to land another blow, this time backhanding her across the face so hard that the sharp edges of his ring opened a gash on her cheek that started to pour blood almost immediately. Gasping, Buffy's hand went to her face, and she saw red. But Spike refused to let her regain the upper hand, grabbing her by the hair, which was now gathered in a long, neat braid, and yanking her back to him. He pressed his chest against her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and chest from behind.

"You like this, don't you, love." His arms became even tighter still, and Buffy knew that if it weren't for her superhuman strength every rib in her body would have shattered under his vice-like grip.

"You're... disgusting..." She managed to choke out, Spike's hold on her making it hard to breath. He chuckled, and Buffy felt the vibrations against her back as her cheek throbbed with pain, the blood trickling down and onto her shirt.

"Think I'd forgotten about our little roll in the hay, pet?" Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, wincing as she felt cool lips pressed to the back of her neck. Her entire body was incredibly tense, like a drawn bow waiting to be released. She could hear her heartbeat thumping in her ears, her pulse seemingly going haywire.

"Think I care?" She spat, her teeth clenched. "It...was...disgusting." Her voice was venemous.

"It was a bloody revelation, and you know it. You've never had it as good as me..." His teeth scraped her ear, and she shuddered. "You'll never have it as good as me..." It was becoming increasingly harder for her to breath, and she fought to maintain her composure as he spoke, his voice sending chills skittering up and down her spine. "I've tasted you, slayer..." As he said this, Buffy grimaced, thoroughly disgusted as she felt a cool tongue against the side of her face, licking the blood that trickled from the open wound on her cheekbone and moving upward slowly until finally stopping just beneath the tender area. "Tastes damn good too," He whispered, "And might I remind that you were a very willing participant in our little escapades?... Seems you're an animal both in and out of the sack..."

Buffy let out a mighty roar, his words sending her into action. Catching him off guard, she grabbed a hold of his arms, bent forward and yanked as hard as she could, sending him flying head first over her shoulders.

Before he had a chance to recover, she was straddling him, pinning him to the ground and wrestling his arm with the other, trying to slide the ring off his finger. Spike snarled, his voice menacing.

"I told you..." Quickly, he rolled them, reversing their positions. "Not to touch my things." Then his hands were at her throat, and Buffy was gasping for breath.

"How...is that...fair?" She choked out, digging her nails into the backs of his hands until blood was drawn and he released her with a hiss. Her hands flew to her neck and she sputtered, her chest heaving as she gasped for precious oxygen. As he stared down at her, watching her choke and sputter to fill her lungs with air, he was filled with a sudden overwhelming feeling of... he couldn't put a finger on exactly what he felt, but he was certain it fell somewhere between disappointment and remorse. Which was definitely something Spike didn't want to be feeling at that moment.

'This ends now,' He thought bitterly.

'Here endeth the lesson, slayer.'

"You want fair? Fine, then." Standing suddenly, he did something that Buffy would never have expected him to do in a million years. Yanking the Gem of Amara from his finger, he stuffed it into an interior pocket of his duster before removing it altogether, draping the black leather over a nearby headstone.

Buffy swallowed hard, winded and bruised, her body aching all over as she stared in confusion. She was wary and unsure of what had brought on this sudden change in his demeanor.

"If it's a fair fight you want, then that's what you've got."

Buffy stood on shaky legs, never taking her eyes off Spike.

"What are you waiting for?" He pressed on, taking two long strides toward where she remained rooted to the spot. "C'mon Buffy, give it me good, bury that nice little splinter in my heart," Pausing, he observed her, his eyes openly scanning her body. "Or maybe you're scared?"

"Of you? Never."

Spike arched a scarred brow. "Then why the hold up, luv?"

That did it.

"I'm not your love!" It sounded more like a battle cry as she ran at him, and he braced himself for the fallout. Grinning cheekily, he released the handful of dirt taken from the cemetery floor, throwing it at her eyes. Buffy shrieked, her hands instantly flying to her face in order to clear away the particles that stung and blinded her. But just as she managed to regain her vision, Spike had grabbed her in a violent hold, his hand cupping the back of her head and yanking it to the side, exposing her neck where the blood pumped wildly beneath the surface. Spike licked his lips, diving in for the kill...

But his fangs were just inside her throat when he paused, feeling something very sharp poking him in the chest. It was only then that he realized she'd managed to squeeze the stake in between their bodies, and the tip of it was now just barely piercing his skin and feeling very much like the weapon it was intended to be.

"Didn't think I'd go down that easy, did you?" Buffy pushed the stake just a hair harder into his chest.

"Good on you," Spike mumbled sarcastically, though there was a hint of laughter to his voice. Letting his fangs scrape along her skin roughly so they drew a thin line of blood, he effectively reminded her that they were at a draw. Neither one had the clear advantage.

"Seems we have a situation here, pet." Buffy let out a soft, sardonic chuckle.

"That's one word for it," She retorted.

"Let go on 3?"

Snorting loudly, Buffy tightened her shaky hold on the stake. "Yeah, right. How do I know you're actually gonna let go?"

Spike smiled against her skin, the demon inside practically screaming for him to tear into her throat, to suck her dry. But he forced himself to maintain control. "Guess that's just the chance you'll have to take, Goldilocks."

Letting out a loud sigh of mixed frustration and defeat, Buffy realized she had no choice as his fangs threatened to puncture her flesh. "Fine," She agreed reluctantly, her voice sounding anything but certain, "I'll count."

Drawing in a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut, she began the countdown.

"One...two...THREE!" Buffy lowered her stake just a hair, and it was all Spike needed. Shoving her backwards with all his might, she landed flat on her back, but not before her head smacked an inconveniently placed gravestone on the way down, and she saw stars. Then Spike was on top of her, his hands once again at her throat.

"Lesson the second," He said, leaning forward until his face was hovering directly over hers, "Always trust your instincts."

Buffy looked up at him with pure malice etched in every contour of her face. "Don't look so smug," She retorted. "All this proves is that you're both a coward and a cheat."

"What part of the words 'vampire' and 'evil' don't register with you? Worrying about whether or not my next move's 'ethical' isn't exactly my style, love."

Refusing to look away, Buffy returned his glare fully, staring daggers into the cold yellow eyes. "You call that style?" She challenged. "Looked more like a lot of lucky breaks to me. That's what I call one big fat cop-out."

Spike's grip tightened, one hand squeezing her throat while the other pinned her arms above her head.

"You've got a lot of spunk for someone who's about to die." Buffy could hardly breathe now. He outweighed her by a good amount, and his body pressing hers into the grass combined with the hand that squeezed her neck and the fact that she was already weakened from their fight all served to make breathing a difficult task. But she didn't let that stop her.

"Then... what are you waiting...for?"

Spike thought for a minute about that. What exactly was he waiting for? Here he had the slayer pinned beneath him, where he could easily suck her dry or even simply snap her neck and be done with it, and yet he'd made no move to do any such thing.

'Just bloody do it...'

With a low growl, Spike released her neck and used both his hands to pin hers tightly to the ground before letting his fangs tear savagely into the flesh of her throat, the blood instantly flowing into his mouth like warm honey. He took deep, hard pulls, determined to drain her of every last drop of blood before he had a chance to stop. Buffy let out a strangled sob, her body trying to wrench away from him, to wrench away from the terrible pain, but finding herself unable. She could hardly move, could hardly breath, and the world was quickly becoming fuzzy around her.

'This is what you wanted...'

But somehow, as Spike slowly drained the life out of the prone slayer beneath him, it felt anything but that.

Her cries of pain echoed in his ears. They pierced him.

Without thinking, without any rhyme or reason, Spike slowed his pulls when he felt her heartbeat begin to weaken. Extracting his fangs, he let his tongue trace the wound to close off the flow of blood before leaning back slightly and letting his demon features slip away. He watched her through hooded eyes, allowing one of his hands to snake downward. Her lips were parted, her eyes closed, and as she felt his hand tugging at the clasp of her jeans, her eyes slowly fluttered half open. She blinked once, making no move to stop him, but when his finger slid inside her panties and came into contact with her clit, her mouth opened and she emitted a tiny gasp. It was the reaction Spike had been looking for, assuring him that he hadn't taken too much blood. It had been enough to severely weaken her, but not enough that she'd need to visit a hospital in order to survive.

Bending down, he brushed his lips against hers, tasting his own blood mixed with hers. A tiny mewl escaped her throat and she instinctively responded, letting her warm, moist lips mold to his cool ones. But as he shifted slightly on top of her, her eyes flew fully open, widening as she slowly came to realize what was happening. Spike instantly sensed the change in her reaction and broke the kiss abruptly. As they looked at each other, both had the exact same thought running through their heads.

'What the fuck are you doing?'

The next instant, Spike was on his feet and moving at a brisk pace, his swagger slightly less exaggerated than normal as he left the weakened slayer behind him.

Buffy propped herself up on her elbows, hardly able to support her own weight as she watched Spike yank his duster off the headstone and exit the cemetery, disappearing into the shadows.

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A/N: Thanks so much to Michelle for your review! I'm glad you're liking the story! Happy Halloween everyone!