Spike watched the Slayer on video.
“She’s tricky. Baby likes to play.”
He couldn’t look away.
On edge, Spike ignored Halloween and stalked Sunnydale’s streets, delighting in the mischief he found. And when he came across the Slayer, all helpless and confused, with the added benefit of pissing off Peaches, his night was complete.
“Look at you; shaking, terrified, alone. I love it.”
Gripping the Slayer’s hair, he moved in for the kill, noting the way she arched to meet his fangs. Her whispered “Sorry” puzzled him, until he was left holding a wig and being kicked in the chest.
Spike smirked as he, Drusilla, and the minions reached the Sunset Club, set for bloody carnage.
“Take them all. Save the Slayer for me.”
All for him; his mouth watered, craving her sweet blood, and her plump lips.
Spike wasn’t sure what angered him more, the fact that the Slayer had been marked by a demon other than himself, that she was practically leaning up against Angelus, or that the thought of both filled him with a possessive rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He stood there, seething in the shadows, as the Slayer and her buddies filtered out and went home. Finally forced himself to follow along at a discreet distance as she broke away from the others – refusing to believe that he did so only to see that she encountered no problems on her lonely walk.
Spike paced, ranting. “She’s the bloody thorn in my bloody side!”
The Slayer was in his gut, his throat. He was drowning in her and didn’t know how to swim in the unfamiliar waters.
Drusilla cocked her head and whimpered. Sunshine burned…
Softly he whispered of the three, kissed her gently and was gone by the time an iron-hard fist grabbed her from behind. She fought, Angel helping and finally holding her as she recalled Spike’s final words.
It was hard, finding out about the deadly Order of Taraka, knowing it was Spike that sent them. Then there was Drusilla.
Spike was a vampire, she couldn’t trust him. But in her dreams, it seemed so right…
Their eyes locked as she walked into the church, his heart on show for one brief moment. Her gaze hardened as she remembered why he was there… to cure his lover.
She had to stop him.
As they fought, his hands lingered on her body, caressing more than hurting. And her heart broke as she brought the organ tumbling down on him.
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/214616.html