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beneath you	By : agalaxyinblueeyes Category: > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 1505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-beneath you
- 2-One
- 3-Two
- 4-Three
- 5-Four
- 6-Five
- 7-Six
- 8-Seven
- 9-Eight
- 10-Nine
- 11-Ten
- 12-Eleven
- 13-Twelve
- 10
- 11
- 12
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
It'll probably confuse you more than ever, but I've decided that
every mention I make of the Spanking New Evil will be capitalized
and bolded, thus: She, Her. Like I said, it'll
probably confuse you more, but until I reveal the bitch's name, I
think this is safe ^_^

beneath you

part ten

Buffy had stayed in the exact same
position she'd been in for fifteen minutes since he'd left. She
feared that her mind had been completely destroyed -- after all,
Spike had just left. Spike, the one that had kept coming back to
Sunnydale because of her -- and she knew he'd come back because
of her, so there was no denying it. No one could hate their
mortal enemy so much that they would keep coming back and getting
their asses repeatedly kicked.

Then again, when had Spike ever
been the typical mortal enemy?

Anyway, she'd been in her own
little world, still trying desperately to believe that Spike had not
just walked out, and that she was just dreaming a really bad
dream, so it was only natural for her to jump nearly three feet
off the stool and fall flat on her ass when the door to the
kitchen was pushed open.

She turned and stared wide-eyed
when Spike entered, Clem following behind docilely, munching on
some chips.

She stood up and watched him
quietly, succeeding in her efforts to remain cool and aloof. Not
to mention her success in not throwing herself at him, kissing
him, apologizing to him, and begging to give her another chance.
Years of hiding her real emotions behind a blank stare and
(usually) anger had made her the perfect little actress and she
was pleased to see Spike nervously shifting at her glare.

"Spike. You're back,"
she said frowning, as if admonishing him for daring to reenter
her home. Her eyebrows drew themselves together, and her eyes
narrowed. "I thought you couldn't bear to be around
me," she added mockingly, smiling to herself when Spike
winced.

Spike, meanwhile, sighed. He'd
known he was in for it the minute he'd seen his decimated crypt.
Buffy was really the only person he could have gone to. First up: the demon community -- yeah, they weren't his
friends. Most of them wanted to kill him, save for Clem and the
kitten poker group. Second: the human persuasion --
the butcher was probably the only person that counted, next to
Jake, the guy that had (temporarily) taken over Willy's job at
the Alibi Room when the dirty, sneaky little weasel had gotten
into a bit of trouble with his underground dealings. Both men
were fully aware of his vampire status, as well as the current
not-so-evilness of him, but neither would avidly offer him and
Clem room and board together.

Boy, oh, boy, Spike sure got
around.

So that left the Slayer's friends.
Tara: God bless her and rest her poor little
soul. She probably would have welcomed Clem and Spike, no
questions asked and arms wide open into her apartment. But now,
it was slightly out of the question.

So he'd thought about -- dun, dun,
dun -- Xander. And nearly balked out loud,
trying as hard as he could not to fall on the ground laughing.
Xander Harris hated him. And though
he'd taken somewhat of a liking to Clem, with Spike as part of
the package I-need-a-home deal, they'd be rejected in an instant.
No matter what Dawnie told Xander about Spike, nothing would ever
make them friends. They had a common bond between them, however,
and it was called intense loathing.

The next choice pretty much fell
to... well, Anya. And then it bounced away. Far,
far away. Though she would probably accept two more demons into
her midst, Demon-Girl was a definite no-no, especially
considering the circumstances surrounding their most recent...
er... interaction. Wasn't it enough that Spike had killed Buffy's
spirit with that tryst, but he'd embarrassed himself, apparently,
with the whole group watching as he and Anya took out their grief
on each other?

Damn it.

Anyway, moving on, he brought his
attention to SuperWicca Willow -- then
remembered that she was living with Buffy and, oh yeah, she
wasn't so much with the SuperWicca anymore. So then he thought
about the psychopath currently sharing the name Giles
with Buffy's former Watcher -- and Spike remembered that he
was living with Buffy, too.

Normally, if Giles was
living somewhere else, Spike would have been all too grateful to
accept another invitation to live with him, provided the bloody
bastard didn't tie him up in the bathroom like before. Except
that, with the way things had been lately, Spike was terrified
that Giles would turn his brain into absolute mush from all his
damn incessant questioning, and he'd run screaming from the house
right into sunlight and go up into a brilliant, blazing fireball
for his troubles.

So now, all that was left was Buffy
-- who was going to kill him. He was really
dreading imposing on her, especially now after his little 'I
can't wait forever' speech. Oh, god, she was really going to kill
him.

Or, hey, maybe she wouldn't. She
didn't know why he was coming back, at least not yet, and
besides, she liked Clem. If she allowed Clem to stay, then she
had to allow Spike to stay, too, since Clem would be happier that
way. And his Dawnie would put up the most hellatious raucous if
Buffy tried to keep her away from Spike the way she'd tried to
last year. And he was positive that Red would need a good bit of
support, and a good while away from the
well-meaning-but-otherwise-completely-insane Watcher. And Giles
would love not having to hunt Spike
down during the mornings, or waiting until evenings to study
Spike like a lab rat. So really, things were four to one in his
favor.

Okay, so maybe he was getting
ahead of himself, but it was worth a bloody try.

He looked up at Buffy and took a
deep breath. "Somebody destroyed the crypt," he said.

At once, Buffy's eyes widened, and
her Slayer half came on alert. Destruction of property had
apparently become her specialty. "What? How? Who did it, do
you know?"

Spike shook his head, looking
towards Clem. "Clem's the one that told me."

The wrinkly demon nodded his head,
his lips -- or where his lips should
have been -- covered in the orange cheesy dusting from the
Doritos. "Came back from the market, and there it was -- the
whole thing, completely leveled. Didn't see anybody around, but
whoever it was did a real number on it. All that stone and stuff,
everything from the inside out? It's all just dust now. Not even
the basement-room survived."

Spike turned back to Buffy and
gave her a wry half-smile. "Guess who's homeless,
Buff?"

Buffy frowned. Well that sucked.
She usually couldn't stand the crypt -- except for the basement
and the memories of what had usually gone on down there was most definitely
giving her the warm-fuzzies -- but she hadn't wanted the damned
place demolished.

And poor Clem and Spike! Wait,
wait, not poor Spike, she was mad at him. But poor Clem! He was
homeless now, and unfortunately, so was Spike, and -- oh, no, no,
no. That was why he'd come back. Spike
thought he could get a freebie with the Head of House since he'd
actively participated in banging her last year. She scowled at
him. Of course, she'd thought he'd changed, but the smug bastard
was just as sneaky and conniving as he usually was, of
course, and naturally he was going to try to
persuade her -- oh, damn it.

She really hated those stupid eyes
of his.

Grudgingly, she sighed and swept
her arm behind her. "Why don't you two stay here
for a while."

Spike tried as hard as he could
not to smile. "Oh, no, Slayer, we couldn't impose, we just
stopped by to let you know that I -- or we -- have got ourselves
a new enemy and --"

Buffy scowled. "Spike, shut
up and come inside, would you? Come on in, Clem," she added
kindly to the other demon, who had been watching Buffy and
Spike's verbal and facial sparring, his head swiveling back and
forth between them as though he was watching a tennis match.

Clem trotted happily inside. Who
was he to argue where he stayed? So long as they had a TV and
those nifty little Fritos scoop things, he was happy.

Spike followed at a slower pace,
his smile disappearing as his handsome face took on a more
serious tone. Standing in front of Buffy, he gently took her hand
and bent down slightly to look her in the face. "Thanks for
this, Buffy. Really. I don't mean to do this to you, but I
just...," Spike paused, biting his lower lip, then
continued. "I don't have anywhere else to go." He
looked past her at Clem. "Neither does he. We need a place,
and we didn't really have a lot of choices. I just hope things
won't be awkward between us...?" he trailed off, gazing at
her uncertainly.

Oh, god, she really
hated those eyes. She bit her lower lip and shook her head sadly,
giving his hand a squeeze. "No, Spike. It's no problem at
all."

Spike smiled at her a bit, then
leaned forward and gave her a tentative kiss on the forehead.
Leaning back, he chucked her gently under the chin -- a
father-like gesture that shocked the hell out of her since it
came from Spike -- and sighed. "Thanks, luv. I really
appreciate this."

He turned and walked out of the
room without another word, presumably heading to the living room
to crash on the couch.

Buffy's shoulders slumped
heartbrokenly, and she blinked back the bitter sting of her
tears. He really had gotten over her. He'd gone from
giving her looks of love and longing, to chucking her under the
chin and giving her forehead kisses.

And it was her fault, because she
hadn't spoken up and told him that she wanted more -- that she
wanted him.

Wrapping her arms around herself,
she rubbed her shoulders and walked to the living room. Her eyes
settled on the two new additions to the household, Spike
stretched out on the couch, shirtless and just settling in, and
Clem curled up on the floor like a dog, surrounded and sleeping
on so many pillows that it looked like a failed attempt at a
pillow fortress. She smiled slightly at the sight. Whenever Clem
snored, his teeth showed, and he let out a soft growl right along
with it -- though he looked as harmless as a puppy, he seemed to
be Spike's guard dog.

Frowning, she looked up to see
that the curtains were still open -- something extremely careless
from Spike. She had just gotten him back (even though she didn't
really have him) and she wasn't going
to lose him because the damn curtains hadn't been drawn. Stepping
around Fluffy Guard Dog Clem (and being equally careful not to
get her legs anywhere near those damn sharp teeth), she leaned
across Spike and drew the curtains shut, pausing only once when
she saw a flash of gold. Frowning, she peered into the darkness
more closely and, seeing nothing, pulled back. She looked down at
Spike and sighed, then leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight, love," she
murmured softly before turning and heading toward the stairs. She
snorted to herself, shaking her head. "Not a problem at
all... pfft. Yeah, right."

As she walked up the stairs, Spike
turned onto his back and watched her tiny figure silently, a
tired, gentle smile crossing his lips. Yawning, he snuggled back
into the fluffy cushions and let his eyes close.

She watched as
the blonde head appeared, glancing out the window. Snarling
slightly to Herself in disgust, She
just noticed when Her own eyes flashed a
brilliant yellow-gold before She blinked and the
effect disappeared. Instead, shaking Her black
mane furiously, She seethed when the blonde
leaned closer to peer outside, then closed the drapes when she
saw nothing.

Turning away when She
was in the clear, She loped across the yard, Her
thin agile body moving with the grace of the shape She
had taken -- a leopard. She was very, very close
to releasing all of Her built-up aggression, but
sadly, there was no one in sight to take it out on.

Transforming, She
snarled to herself, leaning back against a tree. So... that was
the little strumpet that had destroyed Her
darling boy's love of destruction. She could
hardly see what the big fuss was all about. Unfortunately, She
knew full well that there was a great to-do about her, because
the Slayer-Bitch had managed to bring three incredibly powerful
Masters to their knees, and She meant to
discover everything She could about the girl.
Angelus had been absolutely useless when it had come to her,
considering his ensouled self had been in love with her, and his
uninhibited half had despised that love. She Herself
thought it was incredibly pathetic. The once powerful patriarch
of Aurelius' traveling clan had been reduced to a meek, love sick
little puppy. And he hadn't exactly been that pleasing without
that blasted soul, either.

Dracula had been another matter.
It had been a given that there would be some awe when he'd
introduced himself to the Slayer. Unfortunately, before She
could get to him and convince him that killing the Slayer was for
everyone's own good, he'd been recruited by those little monk
twits to capture a mere pint of her blood. All so they could pull
one over on a... She shuddered in disgust... on a hellgoddess
of all things.

Dracula hadn't thought anything of
it, and had just done the job (although She'd
heard that he'd attempted to claim the girl and failed), but the
problem with him was that he'd heard of the Slayer. Her name had
been whispered in the demon underground for six years since she'd
accepted her status from that heavy-set old man, Merrick, in Los
Angeles. And to say that Dracula hadn't been as awestruck as the
Slayer had been with him would be a great lie. This Californian
Slayer had been the only woman to ever reject his seductive
vampiric advances, as well as being the only one to completely
throw off his thrall, and though it had pissed him off to no end,
the Slayer had won a great measure of respect in Dracula's eyes
after that.

Disgusting.

She'd had high
hopes for Spike. She'd pretended to ignore all
the lustful gazes he'd given the Slayer when they'd first met,
ignored the hunger they'd had after each fight that had left the
other panting in sexual near-desperation. She'd
ignored the longing in Spike's eyes after the red-headed witch
had broken a will-be-done spell and he and the Slayer had
returned to normal. The desperate longing that had been
carefully, but painfully hidden when the Slayer had come to her
senses and acted how a good Slayer should at the touch of her
enemy -- with undisguised abhorrence. She'd even
ignored, and had been prepared to forgive, Her
darling boy for the pathetic attempt of his to destroy the Slayer
quartet with Adam -- and She'd been
exceptionally reasonable in forgiving that last attempt of his to
redeem himself with the group, by killing the demon that had gone
after the Slayer's puppies.

All would have gone well -- until
he'd had that dream.

She snarled
furiously, spinning and kicking an enormous Mack-truck sized hole
into a neighbor's wall. In love! How... nauseating. Her
sweet, vicious Spike was in love with a Slayer!

She was going to
have to work very hard to correct this great lapse in common
sense. And -- She glanced down at her curvy,
hour-glass shaped body, smirking proudly -- She
would infiltrate the Slayer's home while she was at it.

Return Spike to his once glorious
self -- and permanently put the Slayer, and her family, out of
action for good.

Two birds. One brick.

How yummy.

Buffy had spent all day surrounded
by lunatics.

Giles, who was normally the calm
and collected one of the group, had gone absolutely bonkers with
joy when he'd heard that Spike and Clem would be staying at the
Summers' house -- it meant easy access to the revolutionary
vampire. And so, Spike had led Giles on a merry chase around the
house all day, trying to escape what he knew was going to be a
barrage of questions about his soul. Buffy had found herself
wondering when exactly it was that Giles had gone from Psychotic
Research Guy to just plain Psychotic.

Willow, on the other hand, had
reacted with a calm cool that Buffy hadn't known was in her --
apparently, Wills had been remembering her time with Oz, and was
channeling his monotonous exterior for the time being. Which in
itself was just creepy.

Anya had arrived at the house
about an hour before lunchtime, had shaken Clem's hand, then had
looked at Spike (who at the moment had been safely hidden from
Giles) in embarrassment -- which, hey, new from Anya.

And finally, Xander had come over
at the end of the day, and had been about to raise the standard
Almighty Uproar until he'd seen Buffy's face. Then he'd
sheepishly backed down, wiggled his fingers hello, and sat down
in front of the television.

And all Buffy had wanted to do was
just crawl under her covers and die. Or
at least let out a really long, really, good, really heartbroken
cry.

She'd been kicking herself for her
stupidity regarding the Spike situation all morning, so much so
that even looking at him twisted her
heart to pieces. She had really pulled the wrong one this time.
And now she felt like that little lost lamb that stupid romance
novels always talked about. She had a feeling that she was now
living what Spike had been through since he'd realized he'd loved
her, and it was pretty much breaking her apart. She loved him --
why couldn't she have just told him
that? Why the hell did she have to be Stupid!Stubborn!Buffy all
the damn time?

She knew why. She had told herself
that nobody else was going to put Spike down, not now, not when
she finally loved him, and she'd told herself that she wasn't
going to listen to anyone else's opinions anymore, and she would
think for herself. But the problem was that she actually had to
work at that -- after all, you couldn't just snap your fingers
and say, "I'm reasonable today!" and expect to be that
way. Her friends' and Giles's opinions were still having an
effect on her, and she, quite frankly, needed to screw up all the
courage in the world to get them to leave her and her love life
the hell alone.

If that was the case, then she
should be kicking herself even more right now. Damn it, why
hadn't she asked Spike for a little more time?!

Sigh. Anyway.

Earlier, Dawn had literally been
bouncing all over the place at the news of where Spike's new
temporary stomping grounds would be, until Buffy had pleaded with
her to tone it down. Which for Dawn meant to revert to squealing.
But it was when Buffy was being dragged down the sidewalk by an
extremely ecstatic Dawn the next night, (Spike following behind,
rather sedate in his humor) that they saw the giant hole in Mrs.
Reubens' solid brick wall.

Apparently, not so solid anymore.
And for some reason, that was all it took to calm Dawn down.

"Damn," Spike muttered
below his breath, letting out a low whistle. "Did someone
get too happy with a wrecking ball? Where's Harris? Maybe he'll
explain."

Buffy paused in her frowning for a
moment to give Spike an odd look, which Spike returned with a
smirk, then shook her head and stared back at the wall. How she
had not even noticed it this morning was beyond her, since she
passed the damned place every day when she went to work.

Huh. Maybe that was why all the
police had been swarming around, topped off with Mrs. Reubens'
shrieks of vandalism. For a second, Buffy wondered if she
shouldn't leave town until the wall was fixed -- the Sunnydale
Police had had it in for her ever since the last explosion that
she'd caused while on the job, and her record with them wasn't
exactly spectacular since that whole wretched Acathla thing where
she'd been framed for murder. Yeah, that
had been a walk in the park.

Moving closer (after shaking her
grip out of Dawn's magneto pull), she lightly touched the edge of
the wall still intact from whatever had caused it. What the hell
could have done this with the force of a wrecking ball, besides a
demon? Unless Spike was right, and Xander had gotten a little
carried away -- he couldn't hit Spike, so he took it out on the
wall.

But what if something evil had
done this? She shuddered at even the thought
of coming face to face with the type of strength that could just
kick a hole in a wall like it was nothing. Hell, she'd been sore
for two weeks after just one fight with Glory.

Buffy groaned. "Noooo,"
she whined. "It's too early for apocalypse season! It's only
November!"

Spike raised his eyebrows as
Dawn's eyes widened. "You think that something caused this
besides a construction crew?" the teenager asked.

Spike looked at her. "Well,
it's really the only plausible explanation. A construction crew
doesn' have any reason to leave a bloody twelve foot hole in
someone's wall." Spike glanced at Buffy, nodding graciously.
"Apocalypse, it is."

A strangled whimper escaped her
throat. "Stupid Sunnydale. Stupid Forces of Evil that won't
give me a holiday."

Spike chuckled to himself as Dawn
moved toward her sister and mockingly patted her shoulder. Buffy
raised her head from her self-indulging misery to give Dawn one
good glare before pouting again.

Spike sighed to himself as he
approached the holey brick wall. Buffy had been weaving in and
out of moods all day, and once again, he knew it was his fault.
She had said she was fine with his being over her -- like he
actually was over her, like that
actually meant anything these days! --
but once again, Buffy hadn't counted on the fact that Spike
seemed able to read minds. Or if not read minds, then read
feelings.

She'd been hurt.

He didn't bloody like it, but if
the infuriating little wench would just step up and admit to what
he already knew, he'd go trotting back to her like the sodding
lapdog he knew he was. He'd take anything she threw at him, if
she just admitted some semblance of feelings for him. But no,
Miss Buffy had to be stubborn, and Miss Buffy had to be the
leader and not let her feelings get in the way, even though she
knew damn well that she could only get stronger if she had Spike
right there by her side.

But no. This was Buffy's decision,
and -- as much as it was driving him absolutely insane to watch
her be miserable and not comfort or
touch her -- Buffy had to work things out on her own.

He grinned to himself. But maybe a
little persuasion couldn't hurt. Jealousy was usually ripe this
time of year...

Since they couldn't really do
anything about the gaping maw in Mrs. Reubens' wall (except
fantasize about what sort of big nasty could be running rampant
in Sunnydale this year), they continued on soberly to the
cemetery for a quick patrol. Six vamps altogether that night,
with Dawn only needing to be saved three times -- once by Buffy,
once by Spike, and once by ducking and letting the stupid-ass
following her run smack into a mausoleum wall. Naturally, she was
eternally grateful to the wall, while bitchy and petulant toward
Spike and Buffy.

Afterwards, Bitchy!Petulant!Dawn
retreated when the two adults (one moreso than the other) treated
her to a mini-Bronze night.

Of course, as usual, neither of
them had anticipated the likelihood of future peril infiltrating
their little group.

Spike had been at the bar, nursing
a beer and watching Buffy and Dawn twist and giggle -- he really
wasn't much for dancing, but god if
Buffy would just scrape away the concrete that thickened around
her skull --

"Hello."

Spike jumped, startled. Turning,
he shook his head, sighing to himself. The voice belonged to a
woman. It starts, he thought. Well, so much for vampire reflexes. Maybe I can
trade in this old model for a better one.

He turned to tell the woman --
whoever the hell she was -- that he was more interested in being
alone... but that was before he looked at her.

Holy Christ, the woman was
beautiful. Bright green eyes beneath dark, thick lashes seemed to
saturate the room, and locks of beautiful thick black hair fell
to just below her backside. Pink, perfectly shaped lips pouted
out at him, placed below a well-defined aristocratic nose. A
strong, sensual neck gave way to slim shoulders, which arched
into big, full, round, straining breasts, hidden beneath a black
tanktop. A tiny waist and rounded hips curved down to strong,
shapely thighs, covered in red leather pants. She could give a
bloke a helluva ride with that body.

Too bad she didn't do anything for
him.

Then again... His eyes flickered
to the dance floor, where Buffy and Dawn were still living it up.
Buffy had been peering over Dawn's shoulder every so often when
she thought her sister wasn't looking, all her efforts straining
toward Spike. And seeing a beautiful, luscious brunette hitting
up on him was obviously not what she had expected to see. It did
Spike a whole world of good to see that beneath her California
girl tan, Buffy was going pale, and the hurt that invaded her
usually stony features blossomed out for all the world to see.
Hell, with the way Buffy had treated him last year, even just
standing there with another girl made his chest swell with the
fact that she actually did care.

Unfortunately, the sight of Dawn
stopping and frantically asking her sister what was wrong, then
turning around and spotting the black-haired woman hovering
around him was not a good thing. He
watched Dawn's lips tighten as she folded her arms, all the while
thinking, Oh, I'm in a world of trouble now...

A thought that went away when
Spike saw Buffy build up her wall again, ignoring his existence
and continuing to dance. Spike growled to himself. So that's how we're gonna play the game, are we?
Right then. Buffy would kick herself for trying to out-do the
Master -- literally.

He turned his attention to the
lovely brunette chit standing next to him and smiled invitingly.
"'Ello, luv," he said softly. "Who might you
be?"

The plush pink lips curved into a
hungry smile.

All too easy. It hadn't even taken
Her much more than a hello to break
past Spike's outer walls. Oh, sure, She'd seen
the way he'd glanced at his little Vampire Slayer, as though
asking permission from the ditz to speak to another female, and She
realized full-well that Spike planned to use Her
as a pawn in a little lover's game to make the Slayer jealous...
But She could work around that.

Besides, if She
played Her cards right, She
just might get the invitation into the Slayer's house -- the one She
needed to completely destroy... Buffy's
life. The way things were going, Spike looked as if he'd do anything
to see if his precious Slayer would cause a commotion over him.

Once She was in,
then She could control. And when She
controlled, then She would destroy.

And anyway, Her
precious child was a handsome, feisty one. Any woman -- living,
unliving, or demonic -- would kill to get a precious few hours
alone with him. Could be the accent.

She smiled smugly
to Herself when Spike tumbled right for Her.
A sexy smile, and a purring growl colored his greeting.
"'Ello, luv. Who might you be?"

Her own sexy
smirk crossed Her lips and She
pressed closer to Her little boy. Her
tongue darted out, caressing Her lips in such
sensuality that Spike couldn't help but follow its path.

He wanted to know who She
was? Well, then. She'd just have to tell him.

"Lilith."

Buffy, though she appeared to be
carefree and wild to Dawn (and every other single horny male in
the establishment -- except the one she wanted)
watched stonily from the dance floor as Spike was completely
bowled over by TurboSlut.

Spike had fallen for this type
before. Spike had been in love with
this type before. Spike had spent one-hundred-fucking-years
catering to the every whim of this type before. And Drusilla
hadn't exactly been an easy nutcase to crack -- or satisfy, no
matter how high the body count.

So why the hell
was he falling for it again?!

There he was, the big moron,
staring up at that bloodsucker -- which was what she had to be in
order to completely grasp Spike's attention like this -- with big
old wide-eyed astonishment, as though she were the greatest thing
he had ever seen. Buffy's inner voices came back to her -- or at
least Pro-Spike did, and her voice was angry and admonishing.

Looking at her
like she's the greatest thing he's ever seen, eh? Hmmm, let's
see... Oh! Buffy! Didn't he used to look at you
like that? I can't ever imagine why.
After all, it's not as if he loved you. Because if he'd loved
you, you wouldn't have been a stupid moronic bitch, and you would
have given him a chance. Pro-Spike paused, and
Buffy cringed at whatever she would say that was going to bite
her in the ass. She knew it was going to be a kicker.

As always, she was right.
Pro-Spike took a deep breath (as if she could), then screeched at
the top of her lungs, Oh, YEAH. That's RIGHT. HE
DID LOVE YOU! Dumbass!

Buffy could practically hear the
angry stomps and the slamming-of-the-door after that. Pro-Spike
had obviously retreated, pissed off at having anything more to do
with her brainless creator.

Okay, okay. Buffy had screwed up.
She could admit that, freely, because she knew full well that
she'd screwed up. When she got the chance, she was going to pull
Spike aside and let him know how she really felt about him.

But first, she had to do something
about the previously dubbed TurboSlut. While Spike seemed to be
in La-La Land over this chick, which was hint number one that
Something Was Wrong In Sunnydale, Buffy could feel distrust
pouring out of every opening on her body (and, ew,
by the way. Distrust felt really
gross.) This girl was practically wallowing in Untrustworthy. And
Buffy was going to do everything in her power to find out why.

She watched the
Spike-Makes-An-Ass-of-Himself Show for a little while longer,
before growing thoroughly disgusted with her lover -- ah, former
lover whom she was currently pining away for -- and grabbing
Dawn, sauntering over there. She'd had enough of this wishy washy
crap.

It had absolutely nothing to do
with jealousy. Nope. Nothing at all.

She scowled darkly when
She-Bitch-Tramp-Whore-VampSlut laughed and ran a hand down
Spike's cheek. Spike smiled sweetly, grasped her hand, and began
tenderly rubbing her fingers.

Okay maybe just a little
jealousy.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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beneath you