Becoming Me

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

9: UNDERSTATED

Buffy prowled the street like a hunter. Around her, she detected both humans and other vampires. Every now and then a particularly edible human walked past her on the populated LA sidewalk, and since she hadn't eaten anything for several hours Buffy definitely considered taking a bite.

Only every time she considered it too hard, she imagined the scream and the struggling. She remembered the faces of terror on every vamp victim she'd ever saved, and she felt wretched for contemplating feeding.

She was a vampire with a soul, and she was feeling it.

An elderly black man tripped over his shoelace and dropped his tall stack of cardboard boxes. “Oh, darn it,” Buffy heard him mutter to himself. She quickly wove through the crowds and stacked several boxes in her arms.

“Here, let me help you.”

The man squinted through his glasses. “You're a good kid,” he commented. “Most of the young 'ins today wouldn't lift a finguh...” He looked over the top of the glasses and frowned. “Though the young 'ins mighta been differnt in your day, if I’m not...mistaken.”

Buffy frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve seen many a thing ovuh the years; running inta vampire’s hardly goin’ tuh s’prise me. The name’s Brown.”

“I’m Spike.” Buffy shook her head. “Let’s just get these boxes somewhere.” The man gestured toward the closest shop, which had a green awning which read, in peeling white paint, “BROWN’S.” Taped to the window was a sign that said, “Brown’s books and supplies. Store hours: 7 AM – 9 PM.” Buffy entered Brown’s with the stack of boxes, and instantly smelled the mixed aroma of scented candles and herbs. The room was filled with with animal parts in jars, strange, ancient weapons, and various stones and gems and other trinkets. Lining the walls, reaching from floor to ceiling, were so many books that Giles would have been ecstatic.

“This...this is a magic shop!” Buffy exclaimed. The old man's eyes twinkled.

He led Buffy through several aisles to the back of the shop. “Hungry?” he asked, grabbing a jar of a red substance from the refrigerator.

“Thanks. Why are you helping me?” Buffy unscrewed the lid and sipped the liquid. “How do you know I'm not going to kill you?”

“Because I'm not evil.” Buffy felt that this explanation was lacking a whole lot of logic. Vampire equals killer, usually of innocent people, she believed. “Your soul would scream for years.”

Whoa, back up. “You know I have a soul?”

The old man laughed amiably. “Might as well go intuh the family histry.” He removed his glasses, and stopped squinting. It seemed that the lenses decreased his range of vision instead of increasing it. “I'm a halfie. Ma was human, but my Pa wasn't. He was a demon. I guess I picked up on some of his skills. I can look intuh those pretty eyes of yours, and see de soul...” He frowned, staring even more intently. “This ain't your natural body?”

Buffy shook her head. “No, it's...someone else's. And he's got mine. So, I’m actually Buffy Summers.”

The old man stared blankly for a moment, and Buffy got the impression that he was looking past everything in the room and seeing something else entirely. Cryptically, the old man muttered, “Dat's one lucky guy.” Buffy raised a skeptical eyebrow, ready to inform the man of Spike’s lucky history of getting beat up, but the man continued without noticing. “So I 'spose you two'd be looking for a way to reverse the charm.”

“You know how to help us?”

He shook his head. “I haven't the slightest,” he admitted apologetically. “What I have got, are a bunch of old books and scrolls, and the remains of what used to be some pretty good smarts. If you and your friend would like to try to find the answer in any of my books, even my personal collection, which I keep upstairs in my living quarters, you're welcome to -“ he looked at her with twinkling eyes - “come on in, and I'll help you if I can.”

Buffy smiled. “We're really grateful...Or I am. He'll probably just be snarky.”

The man chuckled, and the noise resembled a toad gasping for air. He was strange and definitely not charismatic, but he seemed to want to help. “Here's my card. It has the shop's address and phone number.”

“Thanks.” Buffy looked at the Celtic-styled printing. ANTON BROWN, MAGIC SHOP. BOOKS, HERBS, ARTIFACTS, AND CANDLES. As she returned to the hotel, she decided she liked Mr. Brown. She just hoped she could bribe Spike into somehow being civil.

Speaking of Spike... “Whoa, Spike. What's -“ The second she entered their room he pounced her, pressing her into the wall with his kisses. Then he pulled back and looked at her. She smiled in confusion. “Why did you...”

“Just felt like it, is all.” Buffy laughed and kissed him again. Kiss after kiss, their tongues plundering each other's mouths, excitement building in each of them. Buffy shoved her hips against Spike's, her hardness all too apparent.

Spike ground against her and then grabbed her hips forcefully, guiding her to the bed. “Hey, Slayer...I think I got myself an idea.”

She nipped at his neck with blunt, human teeth. “I think I'm liking it.” He pushed her down on her back, kneeling over her and running his hands over her muscular, male chest. “What do I need to do?” she asked nervously. Angel hadn't done anything remotely similar to what Spike was doing now...

“Just lay back and let me work my magic,” he drawled. The words sent tingles through Buffy's body, and she imagined him saying the same thing in his own face, wearing that sexy smirk...

Magic.

Suddenly she remembered what she'd been planning on telling the former vampire. “Magic shop! I found this guy who has a magic shop, and books, and said he'll help us!”

Spike chuckled, and Buffy realized how much of a mood-spoiler she'd just blurted out. “You have got the worst possible timing I've ever seen, pet,” he told her, grinning.

“Yeah.” Buffy was again reminded of how inexperienced she was in this field. He's probably expecting me to have at least some clue at what I'm doing...

He was messing with the fly of her jeans. There was a soft pop and the sound of a zipper being unzipped. Suddenly things seemed a lot more spacious in the downward direction...And suddenly he grabbed her, squeezing gently. Just the idea of his hands on her cock made the rest of the world seem all that much distant.

The thought that he was dangerous never crossed her mind. Pumping, up and down, every now and then running his fingers softly down the length...She felt like she was ready to burst, ready to thrash and flail and plunge into something...And then he licked the bulbous tip. Buffy watched in complete paralysis as her own glossy lips closed around the head of the cock, sucking...

It was weird, seeing herself do this. Seeing herself in general was weird – her nose was a funnier shape than she’d thought, her abdomen a little bit rounder than she’d like, and she could see that something wasn’t quite right about her arms. Maybe they were a little fat, or maybe just a little too muscular to be delicate and feminine...

Suddenly his tongue distracted her again, swirling around the tip, and then her cock disappeared into the heat of his mouth, in and out...

“Spike, what are you doing?”

“Blow job, pet. You must have heard of these - maybe even done a few of 'em in your time.”

Of course Buffy had heard of blow jobs, but why was he...And how quite had it happened, without her noticing, and it felt good but she and Angel had never...God, the pressure, the in and out...She felt completely out of her league. “Spike, wait, what are we doing? -And I don't mean blow job,” she pre-empted his ready response, “I mean...I haven't thought about this, not really, about what I'd...I don't know...”

He groaned. She had to think of this now? “Oh, come on, Buffy. It's just sex. Not even -“

“Right, sex,” she went on, steadily approaching hysteria, “Which I've only ever had once. With Angel, and then he ditched me while I was sleeping, and went and turned evil!”

Spike changed his position from kneeling over her to sitting beside her. “Luv, I didn't leave this morning did I? An' I'm already evil, so turning bad won't be a problem.”

Buffy made a little sound of anger, obviously offended. Sitting up, she zipped up her jeans. “That has to be the lamest sales pitch I have ever heard! Are you trying to sell me on how I should fuck you because you don't have a soul to loose?!”

“Well, you've hit on a good point there, but - Buffy, no, it's not like that -“

“Yeah? What is it like, then? You love me? You're in love with the hot, sexy Slayer, is that it?”

Buffy's question pointed in directions Spike firmly did not want to go. There was nothing, no feeling, between them; had she forgotten? “Bloody HELL, no!” was his exclamation as he took a few steps back.

He saw the anger surface in her face, saw her cheekbones suck in. Fuck, why was everything he said or did wrong in this woman's eyes? “Drusilla was never this much trouble!”

The bomb had dropped. Buffy watched Spike, almost blankly.

She realizes she's in their hotel room.
Her room with Spike.

Oh, God, last night. I threw myself and him, and then...

”You're rebounding...”
His arms around her...
”Shh, Buffy, it'll be alright. Not yet, but it'll be alright.”

He really was a gentleman last night...
The whole time, really...

Hot lips, against hers...
Not even his at all, but it hardly mattered...No matter how you looked at it, it was the two of them...

I woke up, and he was there...I didn't think he would be...

The arm around her, the body beside her...Hardly the same as Angel's empty sheets...She was something, in his eyes, she had to be...

Why else would he spend his time with me, I thought...But Drusilla...

“Oh, come on, Buffy. It's just sex...”

Never this much trouble... Infinitely better, in his eyes...

She watched him through blue eyes that were not, in any way, hers. Her face was so much blanker when she was the one pondering behind it, because he could hardly hide the fact that he was thinking about something complex...

Dru is easier to handle, but she isn't the thrill Buffy is. Working things out with Dru is easy - hell, we don't work things out, just scream and torture and shag.

Working together with Buffy isn't fun and games, but somehow...When we do solve something -

“I'm taking a walk.” The door closed, more loudly than necessary.

“Slayer! Get back in here -“ Spike growled, and threw the television remote into the wall. Small plastic shards fell and hid themselves in the shag of the carpet. Spike figured he would have to wipe them up, or someone, like the Slayer, could step on the hidden pieces without knowing they were there.

It was becoming more and more clear that he had a choice to make. Drusilla and Buffy were immensely different, and implied a drastic change in lifestyle...His equivocation threatened him, and he knew he'd have to choose soon.

Actually he'd already decided; the choice was obvious. Drusilla was his soul mate and he loved her. They'd been together for more than a century. There shouldn't even have been a choice.

But somehow there was. He had no idea what had just happened between himself and the Slayer, and now she'd left...

It reminded him of their first fight, of how that golden hair and that beautiful, tight body didn't seem to mix with words like “stake,” and “Slayer,” of how her smile, even on his face, made every answer to every question wrong but somehow worth the risk anyway.

He slumped backwards and banged the back of his head against the wall. “Ow - bloody hell!” He leaned back more carefully and waited, clutching his throbbing head.

* * * * *

It wasn't until the following evening that Buffy became polysyllabic again. Polysyllabic, not talkative. But Spike refused to apologize, so their communication made little progress. He wanted to give up and return to the love of his unlife, his Dark Princess, but if nothing else, Buffy was necessary in getting his own body back.

Finally, as they were heading out for patrol (“they” being due to the fact that Spike had followed her, despite not having asked and not having been welcome), Buffy realized she couldn't handle the tension any longer.

“Do you wish you were back with her?”

He blinked. “With who?”

“Drusilla. Do you miss her?”

“Miss Dru? 'Course I do,” he said, assuring all who heard. Wish to be with her? Sometimes. Surprisingly less than all the time.

Buffy watched the pavement beneath her feet. “Was she good at sex?”

“Yeah, she was quite the -“ Spike nodded slowly with sudden understanding. “So that's what's bothering you. Pet...the only thing that's easier about her is how she's less...righteous, I suppose. Doesn't make a fuss 'bout doing what's right an’ proper.”

Buffy shoved a stake into a vampire with all the force she owned. She glared at it with determination and purpose. Spike enjoyed these things in the way she fought...and talked...and pretty much everything else about her. It had been terrible to see her without her usual vibrancy of life, after Angelus...That had been part of why he'd helped her, Spike realized.

But only part. Part of it was that, and part of it was his attraction to her...And part of it wasn't either thing. After a moment of theorizing, Spike safely decided he didn't understand his choice and he'd leave it at that.

“Yeah,” Buffy was saying. “That's because she doesn't have a soul. You don't make choices if you don't have a soul, you just follow your instincts. Kind of like animals.”

Animals, she said? That was bull - he loved Dru, and love was a very human emotion...And he was positive he made choices. Hadn't he decided to save her ass? He stared at Buffy incredulously; in shock about the factually casual way she presented her thoughts. As if it were always true, as if she just accepted it since no one could do anything about it.

“That's a pretty high horse you're on, vampire. Hope you don't fall off,” he retorted.

Buffy snorted. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don't have a soul either.”

“You're just loving this, aren't you? The chance to laugh snidely at me?” She glared murderously. “Well, you're wrong, I do have a soul! Where would it go, if not with me? You didn't get it, obviously.”

Spike kicked a garbage bin into the street for emphasis. “Soddin' - What was I THINKING, helping you out?

“You know? That's it. I don't need to take this from you. If you don't want to work with me, then I'll reverse this spell myself, and take care -“

“Slayer,” he said with brittle calmness, “this is notabout me working with you. This is about you, just you. If you can't learn to treat me like a real person, with feelings, if you can't - “ He closed his eyes in frustration glanced wistfully into the distance.

His words seemed to echo in the sudden silence of the side street.

“Then no kind of partnership between us is going to work.”

* * * * *

She'd felt like protesting that Spike the Soulless didn't have feelings, but she knew it wasn't true. He had feelings, and she'd obviously just hurt them.

It was disconcerting how she could do that without realizing.

She watched his back as it moved steadily down the sidewalk. Why do I care so much? she asked herself. It's just Spike.

But it had been just Spike who had helped her with Angel, just Spike who had driven her to LA and stayed with her, kept her caring about living. Just Spike, who was behaving so out of character, who was turning out to be so much more of a person that she'd initially thought.

It wasn't that she liked him or cared anything about his feelings in any other instance. It was morality, the idea that her treatment of him earlier had been wrong. He'd deserved more, and Buffy felt self-disgust gnawing at her, threatening her if she failed to apologize.

* * * * *

“Tonight,” the vampire told a room of fellow minions. “The plan goes into motion tonight.”

* * * * *

A cell phone rang, and black fingernails unclipped it from the leather waistband of a plaid skirt. “Tonight, Amber,” the real estate agent's sharp voice pronounced. “You said I'd get results tonight.”

“No, I said there would be results tonight. Didn't mention you getting 'em.”

“I need the vampire and the Slayer. I want results, soon.”

There was a pause while the rebel resisted complying. “Sorry, didn't year 'ya. Bad reception.” Amelia could imagine the vamp smirking.

“You better get your results tonight. Because I want mine tomorrow morning.”

* * * * *

After an hour of waiting, Buffy discovered that life was quieter without Spike. It was more peaceful, definitely, but in a suffocatingly quiet way. Time moved more slowly - uncountable seconds stretched onwards.

It was boring.

Buffy tried to imagine how she'd phrase an apology, but she knew apologizing was not her forte. Even when she acknowledged that she was wrong, she couldn't bring herself to admit it face to face. He's so...crude, and...Spike-like...

“Hey.” The voice came from behind her, and its owner didn't smell human to Buffy's vampire nose. “Spike! Long time no see, huh?”

Buffy agreed with a noncommittal shrug. “Uh, does - Do I...know you?” she inquired cautiously.

The vamp grinned sinisterly. “Spike does. And believe me, you're gonna...Buffy.” Pleasure danced in Amber's excited eyes as she pulled the trigger of the stun gun. “I suspect you'll know me pretty well after the next few...”

The body slumped over. Amber shrugged mid-sentence and motioned for a minion to pick up the unconscious vampire in front of her. “Whatever. Let's just get her to the house before she wakes up.”

The minion blinked. “This one looks male to me, Mistress.” At her glare, he stuttered, “Just sayin'...”

“That Real Estate Slutswoman said to get her the vampire named Spike. I know that Spike's in some chic's body, cos I've seen it. I'm guessing that she's in his. And I figure, if Spike and the Slayer are working together, this girl must be part of the party, too, which means the Vampire Slayer will come looking for her. I figure that Spike and this Buffy girl must have some kind of deal since they've been sticking together, so if we've got the the girl....” Amber left the obvious conclusion dangling.

The minion smirked and nodded slowly, attempting to feign comprehension.

Amber didn't care about her minion's obvious lack of brains. He was mainly muscle, anyway. She was much more concerned with the questions she might be able to answer very soon. If she had the girl, then soon she could expect to have Spike and the Slayer.

Why had Spike and Buffy switched, and what about the switch made it to Amelia? And why was Spike so different from the Spike she'd known?

There had to be reasons, and it was likely they were all lined up and ready to be discovered. Amber noticed a young woman crossing the street alone, but decided to let her go another day without dying. The vamp was feeling generous - her week had just gotten immensely better.

* * * * *

At first Buffy hadn't known where she'd been.

Then the walls, and the lockers, and the students had made her realize that she'd finally returned to Sunnydale High. She searched the faces of the crowds for her friends, still wondering what she was doing back home...

“Oh my - What are you doing here?” The Slayer looked at Cordelia's expression of revulsion and fear.

“You're back?”

“Xander,” Buffy replied, bewildered, “Of course I'm -“ Xander shook his head disbelievingly and melted into the chaos -

Principal Snyder walked by dressed like a Burger King whopper, and shook his finger at her. “Funny, I thought I kicked you out. Oh, to think I'll get to do it again...I think I'm tingly!”

The background noise grew, doubling and complicating and replicating...She thought she heard someone hiss frantically, “Someone get Buffy!”

But guys, she tried to say, I'm right here - but her voice made no sound no matter how loudly she screamed. She became dimly aware that she wasn't herself, but taller, deader, blonder, and male...

She was standing in front of herself, lethal and angry. “I told you never to come back, Spike. No one wants you.

“You love me, is that it?” the Buffy was shouting. Somehow the scenery had changed, the voices died away, but the hazel eyes were still as dangerous as ever and Buffy couldn't look away. “You're in love with the Vampire slayer? That's gross, and obscene, and I said to leave Sunnydale, and never come back. Never...”

Buffy awoke groggily. A pain tickled her chest...”Never come back...” said hazel eyes... She realized blood was dripping down her chest from an artistically jagged cut. “Thought that might wake you up,” drawled the gleeful, purple-haired goddess of nightmares.

* * * * *

Spike stalked angrily through the grave markers, not allowing himself to feel embarrassment about his escape.

His escape from her. She was insanity, she was repose, she was torment. She was so unbelievably frustrating, with her insecurities and her prejudices. Spike sat down on a headstone and pulled black nail polish out of his pocket. Painting his nails had often had a calming effect on him.

He wondered what he expected from her. He knew there was something, because he was always ending up disappointed.

It was so much easier to be evil. He considered returning to Dru, where foreplay didn't make his lover cry...

And somehow just considering shagging someone else felt like cheating on Buffy. Spike didn't know when it had happened, but at some point the Slayer had crossed from being a sexy enemy to being...something else.

Some time in the past 72 hours they'd spent side by side, he'd started caring, more than usual. He cared more than any normal vampire could care about the Slayer. What was she to him? Were they friends?

Could emotions shift so quickly? Spike thought of Buffy and Angel, and the comparison engendered a new, terrible realization. He tried to think of anything that could disprove the notion, but the longer he thought about it the more true it seemed.

What if he was in love with the Vampire Slayer?

It was everything impossible. A vampire and a Slayer were mortal enemies, destined to constantly battle for all of time...This was the sexy, deadly, lovely Slayer, one whom he'd failed to kill time and time again -

His theory seemed inescapably, terrifyingly impossible to disprove. All evidence pointed towards his devotion. He'd refused Drusilla, for Buffy.

But Dru...he loved his Dark Princess more than anything. Drusilla was his love of a century, his Sire, his history, his everything...

No, he concluded with relief, making his statement stubbornly simple. I don't love the Slayer as much as I love Dru. I only love her a little bit, which is fine. After several minutes of explaining his emotions to himself, Spike was convinced that while he was in love with Buffy, sort of, it was really a lot more like a crush. A crush, he could handle.

His spirits were light due to erasing the confusion from his mind. Slayer'll come round, he told himself as he paid the rent for the night. He would have bet money on her showing up in an hour or so, ready to reach an understanding. The understanding, he thought with a smirk and a wave of arousal, would most likely give the maid some considerable work to do in the morning, making the bed. Slayer’ll come round, and then we’ll have some fun.

* * * * *

Buffy shifted away from Amber's small, child-like hands, and winced at the pain the motion brought her chest. “Bitch,” she growled.

Amber clapped her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh, what language!” she exclaimed with apparent horror.

“So what's the lame plan this time?” Buffy ground out.

“I want Spike. I don't know his new look too well, so you're gonna help me out. You're gonna bring him to me.”

Gotta love a cliffhanger. ^_^