DISCLAIMER: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, and Fox Studios. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2001 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG.
Crushed
by Djinn
Buffy closed the door
carefully as Spike looked on aghast.
"He didn't sound as if
he thought it was over."
Buffy stiffened as her
mother's voice sounded behind her. "I made it clear. I think the spell on
the door was a big clue too." She turned to look at her mom and took in
the dark circles under her eyes, the worried lines on her forehead. "It's
going to be okay, Mom."
"He knows about Dawn,
Buffy."
"He'd never hurt
me." Dawn came out from the dining room where she'd obviously been
listening.
"Dawn, get to bed!"
Buffy and her mother said in unison.
"Well, he
wouldn't."
"Yes, Dawn, he would. He's
a vampire. An evil, undead thing. Can you possibly put aside your little schoolgirl
crush on him long enough to get that straight?"
"You really are the
stupidest even if you are the Slayer." She hurried upstairs and slammed
her door.
"Dawn?" Their mom
sounded worried.
"God, Mom, just leave
her alone. If she wants to sulk, let her."
"Buffy!"
"What? Why is this
always about Dawn? Protect Dawn, find Dawn, keep Dawn happy. Well, I'm sick of
it." She slammed her fist into the mantle, knocking a picture of the three
of them off. The glass shattered as it hit the hearth. "Great."
Her mother carefully picked
up the frame. She looked at the picture and shook her head. "She's real,
Buffy, you can't make her go away."
"This isn't about her,
Mom. It's about me. I have this psycho-vamp building little Buffy shrines and
dressing up the top half of a mannequin into a partial life-size slayer doll—and
God how I don't want to know what he does with that during the day."
"Honey, I know you've
had a lot to handle lately and that this is upsetting. But it's really nothing
compared to what Dawn is going through." Her mom reached for her but Buffy
shrugged away.
"Yeah, thanks for the
almost sympathy, Mom. I've got to clean up that glass. Wouldn't want Dawn to
cut herself."
As she left the room to get
the broom she heard her mother's exasperated, "Buffy." She ignored
it.
##
"Why..." Spike hit
the other vampire hard.
"Do I..." His foot
connected heavily and the larger creature slammed into the wall.
"Even..." Spike
grabbed a piece of wood from the dumpster next to him.
"Try?" He slammed
the stake home and there was dust then quiet.
He spun to look at the three
other vampires. "So? You want to take on Spike the Impotent? You want to
get your jollies fighting the Laughingstock of the Undead?"
One of them, a blonde woman,
came forward timidly. "You killed our leader. We would be your minions
now. Let us serve you."
His hand reached out to
caress her short golden curls. "Don't need servants. Good people don't
have minions." His fingers tightened on her hair. "They have
reflections, and feelings, and no bloody chip in their head."
She was being yanked around
as he gestured wildly. "Ouch, Master."
He let her go in disgust. "Get
out of here!"
She stared up at him in
confusion.
"Now! Before I stake you
all."
"But, how will
we..." she trailed off as he glared at her and raised the stake. She
backed away then took off running. The others followed her.
"Damn you, Buffy." Spike
threw down the stake and kicked through the garbage that lay piled around him. "Damn
you to hell."
##
Buffy turned over again to
check the clock. 2:45. Sleep was just not coming. She sat up, punched her
pillow back into shape, threw off the comforter and settled back down.
Tap. Click. Tap.
She ignored the sounds.
Crack. Pop. Click-click. Snap.
She closed her eyes tightly.
Crash! Glass flew into the
room.
"Damn it," she said
loudly as she rushed to the window. She avoided the broken pieces until she
stubbed her toe on the rock, throwing her off balance so that she accidentally
put her other foot heavily into the glass. "Oh, mother f..." she bit
off the rest of her curse as she looked out and saw him in the street.
"C'mon Slayer. I'm
waiting for you. Something we didn't finish."
"You've got to be
kidding. We are not doing this, Spike. Go home." She picked up the biggest
pieces of the glass and tossed them into the trashcan then threw a towel over
the area so she wouldn't cut herself again. She looked at what had been her
window. Good thing it wasn't a cold night. Hobbling to her bed, she turned on
the light. Her foot was bloody and several jagged shards were sticking out of
her flesh. She pulled them out gently, then ran her finger over the rest of her
foot to check for smaller pieces. As she reached into the drawer on her bedside
stand she sensed movement behind her.
"If you're licking your
lips, I swear I'll kill you. Now go away, Spike."
"We have to talk."
She didn't look up at him as
she wrapped her foot. "Let's talk about how you're going to pay for that
window."
"Sorry about that. But I
got frustrated."
"Oh, well, then all's
forgiven."
"Really? Can I come in
then?"
She looked out where he
perched on her roof. "Nothing's forgiven. And no, you cannot come in. Never.
Ever."
"Buffy. It's not like
you to refuse to give someone a chance."
"Someone, sure. You're
something, Spike."
His face fell. "Wasn't just
something when you brought me your mom and the whelp to look after. No. I was
Spike the good guy then. You know I could have trotted those two down to Glory
if I'd really wanted to. Bet she has the remedy for this damn chip." He
lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Smoke trailed into her room.
"Do you mind? I hate
that smell."
He shrugged. "Come out
here and make me stop then."
"Really not interested
in making you anything. Sit there all night. Fill my room with smoke. I don't
care. I'm going to bed." Mentally thanking whatever deity caused her to
choose pajamas over a skimpy t-shirt that night, she crawled back into bed and
turned out the light.
"Why?"
She'd
just ignore him and he'd go away. Right? She heard the sound of another
cigarette lighting. Could Willow maybe do the whole block with a protection
spell?
"That's
what I can't figure out. Why?"
He
was never going to shut up. Never. She put the pillow over her head but his
voice still droned in her ears.
"You
hang out with a Watcher that used to raise nasty demons. Your girl Red almost
became a demon. Xander's girl toy was a demon till she lost her powers. Hell,
you used to date a demon, one that killed your watcher's girlfriend and tried
to destroy the entire world. Why am I so much worse?"
Buffy
burrowed deeper into her mattress.
"Is
it because I enjoyed what I did? I make no bones about it, pet. I loved it. Is
that what bothers you?"
She
sat up in exasperation. "No, Spike. What bothers me is that you're a
psychopathic killer and you always will be."
"And
your boy Angel's not?"
"He
has a soul."
"Not
on a very solid basis, he doesn't." He shifted to sit with his back to
her. "And what is everyone's greatest fear?" He looked over his
shoulder at her. "That he'll lose that soul and turn into Angelus
again."
"Angelus
is a demon."
He
blew smoke slowly. "Haven't you figured out by now that there are all
sorts of demons. Good ones, bad ones, in between ones."
"Vampires
are nothing like the people they take over."
He
stubbed out his cigarette angrily. "Vampires are exactly like the people
they take over. The personality and character that the people would be if they
ever showed their fears, their perversions, their anger, their passion. Some
are big bad things, others are small and easy to accept. Look at Harmony, you
knew her as a human. Has she changed much?"
"That's
an isolated case."
"No,
it's not."
She
was not going to play "is not, is too" with him. "You killed two
slayers. You're a soulless fiend."
"I'm
more like who I was then you could ever know."
She
laughed bitterly. "So you were an obnoxious, sadistic braggart back then
too?"
"No,
I had to become that. To survive."
She
mocked him, "What, Drusilla was mean to you if you were soft?"
"No,
Drusilla picked me because I was soft. It was your beloved Angelus that was
always looking for weakness. He and Darla were never satisfied that I was tough
enough, mean enough. Not till I killed a sufficient number of people did I
prove myself. But at the beginning, oh, I could tell you things. Like I threw
up the first times I had to drink blood. Went off by myself and lost it all. Angelus
found me the last time. Beat me to a pulp. Said if he ever found me wasting
blood again, he'd cut off my limbs and set them on fire. Would have, too."
"Angel
isn't Angelus."
He
shot her a disbelieving look. "Well, he's getting ever closer if Dru is to
be believed. Did you know he let a whole room full of lawyers die? Let Darla
and Dru have free reign. Didn't raise a hand to stop it? Then he set his girls
on fire. Nice guy, your Angel."
"I'm
sure he had his reasons."
"See
that's what I mean. He gets to have his reasons. But me, oh no, it's just the
chip making Spike act all nice. I'd be a sodding maniac if it weren't for
that."
"That
pretty much covers it, Spike."
Smoke
trickled into the room again as he lit another cigarette. "Who was it that
saved the bloody world from Acathla?"
"That
would be me."
"And
who helped you, Goldilocks? Sure as hell wasn't your precious Angel."
"So
you helped me then. And then you came back, found the ring of Amara, tortured
Angel, then even though we sheltered you after the Initiative made you
helpless, you still betrayed us to Adam."
"Yeah.
Well. He was going to get this chip out. You and your friends couldn't do
that."
"You're
a jerk, Spike."
"I'm
a jerk who loves you."
She
chose to say nothing for a long moment. "Go home, Spike."
His
response was so quiet she had to strain to hear it. "I'm not going to do
that, Buffy. I'm going to be around, watching you or watching over you,
probably depends on your perspective. If you really don't like it, if you
really think you could never trust me, then come over right now and stake me. I
won't stop you."
"I'm
not going to stake you."
"Well,
why not?" His voice rose. "Why the bloody hell not? I'm unreliable,
unprincipled, a psychopathic serial killer that you can never trust. Why not
put me out of my and the world's misery?" He jumped up on his knees, held
his arms out. "Go ahead, Slayer. Kill the big bad demon!" His voice
rose to a shout.
Buffy's
door slammed opened and Dawn looked at them both. "What are you two
doing?"
"I'm
trying to get your sister to slay me."
"She's
not my sister and ick!"
"Dawn!"
Buffy's voice was hard.
"You
know I could just invite him in, if I wanted to."
"Don't
you dare."
Dawn
opened her mouth, rebellion written in the firm set of her jaw.
Spike's
voice rang out. "Don't do it, niblet." Both heads turned to him. "Buffy
needs to be the one to invite me back in. It has to be her decision. Now go
back to bed and let us fight in peace."
Dawn
turned to Buffy with a scowl. "You stake him and I'll never speak to you
again."
"Dawn."
"I'm
going." She closed the door behind her.
Buffy
looked over at Spike. "You hurt her, you lay a finger on her and
I'll..."
"Why
would I hurt her?" His expression was truly uncomprehending.
"Because
that's what you do. You hurt people."
"No
Buffy. That's what you do so well. That's your job."
She
was up in a flash, reaching into the bag she'd dropped by the nightstand. The
stake was in her hand and she brought it down through the mystical field that
kept him out.
Spike
didn't move.
At
the last minute, she pulled it to the right and let it slam into the roof.
He
didn't move.
"Go
away," she said.
He
turned his head so his eyes met hers. "I love you."
"Go
away before I kill you."
"I
love you."
She pulled
the stake free and brandished it. "I'll do it."
"Do
it then. End this. It's torment. End it now." His eyes locked with hers
for a moment then he turned and offered her his back. "Do it."
The
stake trembled in her hand for several seconds, then with a vicious cry she let
it fall to the floor and pushed him savagely off the roof.
He
landed unhurt on the grass.
"Now
go home."
He
smiled happily. "You couldn't do it."
"Shut
up, Spike."
"I
love you too, Summers."
"I
mean it."
He
laughed and blew her a kiss. "I love you, Slayer."
"I
hate you, Spike."
"That's
great." He smiled and began to hum a song as he walked away.
Buffy
recognized "On the Street Where you Live" and grimaced. As she made
her way back to bed she muttered, "Oh God, just kill me now."
FIN