But it wasn't passion he was feeling, Buffy reminded herself. It was anger. She had never seen him so furious, not even during their silly quarrel the other night.
Now he was white-hot with fury.
"I'm not playing." She struggled to speak past the tightness in her throat. "I can't..."
He interrupted. "I can give you everything you need!"
"But not everything I want," she protested in a tiny voice.
"And what is it you want? My sodding sire?" His grip on her shoulders became brutal, bruising the tender skin.
'You don't think about him when you're screaming my name, do you? DO YOU?"
His face changed, forming into its vampire ridges.
But her throat had closed, and all she could do was shake her head as the tears fell.
"Buffy?" Xander's voice. Her rock, her champion, coming to find her.
"Get away from her!" Xander gave Spike a push. The vampire tried to retaliate but the pain from the chip sent him reeling. Xander took the opportunity to lead Buffy away.
"I'll take you home," he promised.
She cried the whole way.
Xander wisely made no attempt to comfort her, sensing she was beyond any soothing words.
Not until they reached her door did she regain her voice. "Wha...about Anya?"
"I'll go back for her," Xander looked concerned. "Look, Buffy, I know that was hard; but the worst is over. You told him."
She shook her head. "He always said he won't...give me up."
"Then you give him hell," Xander said firmly. "You can do it. You can do anything!"
His words made her feel she could handle what came next.
What came next- was nothing at all.
Buffy couldn't understand; was Spike just going to accept her decision?
She wrestled with a feeling of feminine pique. She had expected him to...well, to try to change her mind!
She resumed patrolling, trying not to look for Spike around every corner. Instead, she ran into Graham, strolling near the coffee shop.
He was so pleased to see her that she agreed to stop for a latte; and they spent a pleasant hour chatting. When he asked if he could call her soon, Buffy consented.
She was still in a good mood when she reached her front porch. The door was locked; her mother was away on one of her art-buying trips.
Then she sensed his presence, slamming into her from behind; holding her flattened against the door.
"Who is he?" Spike's voice growled in her ear.
The sound melted her resolution; how she'd missed him! She started to turn around, but he pressed against her, holding her still.
"No, you don't. Don't turn around; and don't you look at me! Answer!"
Buffy felt a little frightened...there was such a violent undertone to his words...
"Nobody! Just...just a boy from school! I hardly even know him...." She knew she was babbling and forced herself to stop.
"See him again- ever- and I'll rip his throat out!" He twisted her long hair around his hand, wrenching her head back painfully. "Understand?" he barked, menacingly.
"Yes," she faltered.
"Good! You belong to me...get that through your head, Slayer! You're mine, and chip or no chip, I'll kill anyone who comes between us!"
He released her so abruptly she almost fell; and by the time she regained her balance and turned, he was gone.
Buffy let herself into the house and went slowly up to ther room. She sat down on her bed, still trembling from fear and desire.
She couldn't tell which was stronger.
Xander was worried, suspecting how much Buffy was hurting.
She'd confided in him about her last encounter with Spike; and he decided it was time for a showdown.
At Willy's bar, he ran his quarry to earth.
"Over there," Willy nodded to a back booth. "But I wouldn't go over if I was you, kid. Take it from me, he's in a real bad mood lately."
"He can't hurt me," Xander tried to force confidence into his voice; but his feet lagged as he approached the table.
Then- Spike looked up; and Xander's fear was forgotten in sheer astonishent.
Spike was clutching a nearly empty bottle of tequila. His red shirt was stained and filthy, his eyes burned-out holes in a paper-white face.
"Whoa, Spike!" Xander exclaimed thoughtlessly. "You look like the walking dead! Instead of the walking undead, like usual."
"Sod off." Spike drained the bottle and hurled it at the wall. He snapped his fingers at Willy, who sighed but brought over another bottle.
Spike promptly lifted it to his lips. "Women are a bitch!" he yelled, and drank.
"Don't you mean bitches?" Xander asked, sitting down gingerly.
"What I told the Slayer- I mean what I say!"
"Yeah? Well, sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut," Xander told him bluntly.
Spike flapped his arms dismissively. "I know I got a bit rough; she makes me crazy when she brings up Peaches in L.A. But she seemed to like it other times, how'd I know it was too rough? Huh?"
"THAT wasn't..." Xander broke off, biting his tongue.
"No? What do you know anyway? Nothing!"
"I know better than to tell my girlfriend I don't love her, and never will." Xander said drily.
Willy had been cleaning up; but he stopped, staring at Spike with dropped jaw. "You said THAT?"
"He did," Xander was starting to enjoy himself. "You'd think a guy with a century of experience would know better."
Willy was strongly moved. "Never, ever tell a woman you don't love her. Never ever ever!" He paused, considering. "Unless you wanna get rid of her. There may be something that'll make a woman leave faster than saying that."
"Yeah? What?" Xander asked, interested.
Willy shrugged. "Can't think of nothin' but that does it for sure!"
"But...But, I told her I would never leave her, never!" Spike spluttered. "I said I'd always take care of her! Doesn't that count for anything?"
"No!" Xander and Willy spoke in unison.
"Look Spike," Xander pointed out, "why would she want you hanging around all the time, if you don't love her?"
"She wouldn't," Willy supplied. "You're excess baggage, see, getting underfoot and keeping her from finding her true love."
"HAH!" Spike shouted. "Like that ponce Angel? Slayer's lapdog! I'd sooner die!"
"Well, you don't look far from it," Xander said critically. "Should I get a stake and put you out of your misery?"
Spike glared at him. Then he said, slowly, "Was that...why? Because I said I didn't love her?"
"Well, why'd you think?" Xander asked in exasperation.
"I thought it was because of...Angel," he muttered.
"He can't come between you, unless you let him," Xander pointed out.
Thinking he'd said enough, he got up and prepared to leave. He was almost at the door when he heard Spike's voice, calling him.
"I want her back." It was meant to be belligerant but it came out a whimper. Then, slowly and precisely, Spike tumbled over onto the floor.
Xander and Willy exchanged glances.
"I'd better take him home, make sure he's safe," Xander decided.
"Yeah." Willy shook his head. "Ain't it a sad thing what a woman can do to a guy, even a vampire guy?"
Xander dragged Spike back to the basement and dropped him onto the bed. "You better stay there tonight. And I really hope you have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, pal!"
The following night, a very subdued Spike found himself roaming the streets of Sunnydale, searching for the Slayer.
His hideous hangover had subsided to a dull throbbing; but nothing could ease the pain in his heart as he thought of how he'd driven her away from him. His damned jealousy! It had always been his downfall.
Then he spotted her, in the little playground that was part of the park.
She was sitting on one of the swings; and she looked so sad and so small that he felt his heart constrict.
Buffy glanced up at him in surprise. "Spike?"
He stepped behind her and caught the swing. "Hold tight, pet."
He began to push her gently, and the rhythmic motion had a calming influence on both of them. After a few minutes, Spike saw Buffy smile.
Encouraged, he let the swing slow its arc; and moved around in front.
In wordless invitation, he held out his arms.
Giggling now, she jumped off; and he caught her and held her close.
For a moment she was soft and yielding in his arms; then he felt her tense and try to free herself.
"Don't!" he managed. "Please..."
She went still.
He tilted up her chin. "Buffy...."
Her big eyes still held shadows; the wary look of a woodland creature preparing to bolt.
"I love you," he whispered, hardly knowing that he did.
The wary look gave way to confusion. "You LOVE me? Since when?"
"Since..." his voice trailed off, then filled with wonder. "Since one night in the Bronze, when you were sixteen and I promised you I'd kill you."
"That's not true," she said tightly. "You said..."
"A lot of bloody stupid things."
He let go of her and took a single step back. "When you talk about...him, it makes me jealous. I...can't be second choice."
"You're not!" she closed the gap between them. "It was such a silly...I only said..."
"Patrolling with Angel." Despite himself, Spike heard the bitterness that crept into his voice.
"Spike." Her tiny hands cupped his face. "We can't help doing some of the same things. We can say we never will speak a single word about either of them- Angel or Drusilla."
He stiffened at the mention of the two names.
"Don't you see, that'll make them swell up, into this great untouchable thingy in our lives? But if we can just mention them, in a normal way, well, they're not so important anymore, right?"
"Great untouchable thingy?" The corners of his mouth quirked.
"You know what I mean!" she said impatiently. "They're part of the past; and the past is gone. We have to think about NOW."
"And NOW," he emphasized, "I just told you I love you, and I haven't heard a ruddy word out of you!"
She smiled tremulously. "Stoopid. Of course I love you!"
He began scattering kisses over her face and neck, murmuring words of endearment that she couldn't...quite...accept yet.
"You're sure...you don't want to break up?" she asked breathlessly.
Spike stopped kissing her long enough to pick up his head and glower at her. "Shut up, Slayer!" And don't think I'll turn into some sodding lapdog like that nancy boy Angel! I may be a vampire who can't bite, in love with a Slayer, but I haven't sunk to that yet."
Buffy opened her mouth to retort; and he took full advantage of it.
"How can you treat me this way?" she cried, once she was able to speak again.
"Because you are the gnat in my ear, the gristle in my teeth, the bloody thorn in my....oh bollocks! Kiss me again!"
"You said you loved me," she reminded.
"Yeah well, that was just to get you into bed,' he smirked.
"Oooh!" Furious, she launched herself at him, small fists flying.
Laughing, he captured her wrists and kissed her again, despite her efforts to thwart him by turning her head away.
"Behave yourself," he ordered, giving her a swat, "or I won't make love to you!"
"Oh no?" she said skeptically.
"Well....not for another ten minutes," he decided. "Can't rightly expect me to wait longer tan that, can you?"
"I could wait longer," Buffy bragged.
"Someday, we'll have to test that," Spike threatened.
He lowered her to the grass.
"But not tonight."
The End
