Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Archive: Sure, if you already have my stuff. Otherwise, just ask.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike or Buffy or anyone else in these stories. If I did, I would have given them all happy endings. Hence, the fanfic.
Summary: If you’ve been reading Avocation, you know that Anya couldn’t grant wishes with no explanation for what happened. Well, it pretty much happened as it did in canon, but this is Spike’s experience in the Wish-verse.
Spike had always been just a little bit curious about Slayers in general, ever since Angel told him about them shortly after he’d been turned. The idea that there was a girl out there whose entire purpose in life was to kill his kind represented a challenge.
He’d always liked a challenge.
After the soul, however, and after getting away from Angelus
and the others, Spike had less of a desire to hunt down a Slayer. He’d heard
rumors on occasion, and once he’d even spotted one in
Well, perhaps a little desire, but Spike had had a job to do at the time, and no time to stop and chat. Besides, he knew that the Watcher’s Council thought him a legend, and he wasn’t certain that he wanted to let them know otherwise. He certainly didn’t want to give the Slayer any ideas about needing to hunt him down. Spike didn’t need any other enemies at the moment. He had his hands full as it was.
That was why Spike didn’t bother hunting up a Slayer until
he was hired to take a trip to
So Spike went to
What Spike found was something else altogether.
He saw her taking on a group of vampires. It was five to one by the time he arrived on the scene, and he watched as she fought them, grace and power incarnate. She wouldn’t look out of place in a biker bar, with her heavy makeup, black baggy pants and steel-toed black boots. The scar running through her upper and lower lip completed the image. Spike figured that most—human or demon—would find her frightening.
Spike was fascinated.
There was, however, something missing. She fought well, and when she’d dusted the last vampire, she put her stake away with a satisfied twist of her lips, but that was all.
She walked like a soldier, fought like it was her job. There was no joy in her at all.
Spike thought it a shame, and he decided that he’d follow her the next night to see if his impression was correct.
~~~~~
Following her proved to be a bit tricky. The girl was highly aware of her surroundings, and Spike knew she sensed him, even if it was only peripherally. He had no intention of engaging her at the moment, so he finally took to the rooftops, hoping that he’d be off her radar up there.
It worked for a while, and Spike watched as she hunted. There was no other word for it, really. She was a predator.
Spike almost gave up when she set off for a graveyard. She’d been stalking a few vampires through a seedy part of town, destroying any she could find, but then she went off towards a less-urban section, which meant that he’d have to join her on the street. He thought about letting it go then. Getting out of town and heading somewhere else for the time being. He had several regular clients in the Western part of the country, and it was probably time for him to make contact and see if they had more work for him.
Still, the girl fascinated him, so he decided to continue his surveillance, at least for the night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to head for other parts.
Spike was something of a hunter himself, so he was more than a bit surprised when she disappeared on him in the cemetery. One minute she was there, and the next she was gone. He stood for a moment, listening carefully for any sounds that would give away her whereabouts.
It was only a faint change in the air, but it had him turning to meet her attack, deflecting her stake in the nick of time. Spike grinned as her attack grew more ferocious, managing to block most of her punches and kicks. She was good, there was no doubt about it, but she didn’t love the fight as he did.
Spike thought perhaps he might want to stay alive just a bit more, too.
A well-placed kick from his heavy boot had her stake spinning off into the night, the Slayer’s numb fingers unable to maintain their grip. With that moment of distraction, Spike managed to spin, hooking his leg around one of hers, and throwing her off balance. She fell, and he caught her, one arm tight around her neck, the other clamping her arms to her sides.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” he asked. “You’re not bad.”
She attempted to struggle, but Spike’s hold on her was too tight. “What are you waiting for?” she demanded.
“What am I waiting for?” Spike repeated, pretending to consider her question. “I’m not really sure. All I wanted was a little sparring session, but I’m not sure it’s safe to let you go.”
He felt her go still. “You’re not going to kill me?”
There was a reluctant curiosity in her voice, and he smiled smugly. “Hadn’t planned on it, no. Although, at the moment I think it might be self defense.” Spike made no move to bite her, however, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
“Truce?”
Spike released her, stepping back slowly, not wanting to give her any ideas. “Truce, then.”
She turned to stare at him warily. “You’re a vampire.”
“That’s right.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment. “Why aren’t you trying to kill me?”
“I don’t eat people,” Spike replied. “At least, I don’t eat the ones who don’t deserve it. I heard there was a Slayer in town, and I wanted to look you up, see what you were like.”
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Spike’s the name,” he said. “Or William the Bloody, if you prefer.”
He could tell by the expression on her face that she knew of him. Apparently her Watcher had told her stories, and he wondered at it. Wondered why she’d heard of him.
“You don’t exist,” she said flatly. “There aren’t any good vampires.”
Spike shrugged. “Normally, I’d agree with you. Seeing as how I could have killed you and didn’t, you might want to revise that theory slightly, pet.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment, and then said tersely, “It’s Buffy.”
Spike decided that laughing at her name would be in very bad form. “Right. Buffy.”
Buffy seemed to consider her next move carefully. “So what do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything,” he replied. “Don’t need anything, when you get down to it. Just wanted to see a Slayer for myself.” Spike smiled. “You’ve got quite the reputation.”
There might have been a flash of hurt that went through her eyes, although Spike couldn’t be certain of it. Buffy immediately covered whatever it was with a smirk. “I’m sure.” She turned to leave.
Spike watched her go, deciding that now was not a good time
to follow her. Perhaps the next time he was in
~~~~~
It was a month before he made it back to the Hellmouth. There had been a flurry of quick jobs that all had to be done immediately. Spike had had his hands full juggling them all, and he hadn’t been able to give much thought to the Slayer.
When he did think about her, he found himself wondering what it would take to get under her defenses. Not to harm her, but to infuse a bit of life into that cold face. He wanted to know what had drained the joy from her in the first place. He wondered where the scar on her face had come from, and what she would do when she saw him again.
Buffy would be seeing him again, of that Spike was certain. She intrigued him.
Spike decided to press his luck by just appearing at her side while she was patrolling, wondering if she would immediately attack him or ignore his presence. She seemed to settle for something in the middle, giving him a hard look and asking, “What are you doing back in town?”
“Just passing through,” Spike replied easily. “It’s a nice town.”
“It’s a Hellhole. Literally.”
“You’re here,” he pointed out.
Buffy’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Push your luck.”
Spike smirked. “Why not? It’s so much fun.”
“I’m not here for fun,” she shot back. “Get lost.”
Spike didn’t do anything of the sort, easily matching her quick, angry strides. “Make me.”
For a moment, Spike almost thought she was going to try, and then her lips quirked into an unwilling smile. “Don’t get in my way,” she warned him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He followed her, not bothering to lend a hand or disguise the fact that he got a great deal of pleasure from watching her fight. “What the hell do you want?” Buffy finally demanded after several hours of his silent staring.
Spike raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter, pet? You got a problem with me being here?”
“If I did, would you leave?”
“Probably not,” he replied cheerfully.
Buffy huffed in frustration, but Spike found that an improvement in her typical cold mannerisms. She was actually engaging, rather than acting as though it was just business. He was getting under her skin. It was just as much fun as he thought it might be.
Something about his smug grin must have been too much for her to take because Buffy suddenly launched herself at him. She fought with the same business-like precision she treated all her opponents to, and Spike tried to keep it going, hoping that he could pull some passion out of her.
He disarmed her with a quick twist of her wrist, but Buffy hooked a foot around his ankle, and they both ended up on the ground. Spike was on top, straddling her waist, looking down at her with a leering grin. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.
Buffy stared at him, then moved with a sudden twist, flipping the both of them over. “I should kill you.”
“Why?”
“You’re a vampire.”
“Do it, then.”
She hesitated, and Spike reached up to grip the back of her head, dragging her down for a heated kiss. If he couldn’t get her blood pumping with a good fight, he’d try something else.
Buffy broke off the kiss, her face twisted in anger. Spike waited to see what her reaction was going to be. “I don’t sleep with vampires.”
“Okay.”
She kissed him hard, her lips demanding, bruising. Their coupling was fast and furious, scrabbling at clothing and skin. Spike made sure she got off first, his feral grin widening at her cry of pleasure.
When it was all over, Buffy looked at him, and from her expression Spike knew that she was waiting for him to say something crass. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
“’Course it doesn’t,” Spike agreed. “I’m leaving town in another day or two.”
Buffy shrugged. “Good riddance.” She stood, straightening her clothing.
“I’ll be back.”
She looked down at him. “And I care because?”
Spike snorted. “No reason for you to care.”
Buffy looked slightly taken aback by that. “I have to go.”
“Right.” Spike watched her stalk off into the night, and he thought that there was a slight difference in her step. More swing to her hips, less of the soldier in her movements.
Give him a little time, and he’d worm his way in. Spike had always appreciated a challenge.
~~~~~
Spike kept his word. He left town the next night and returned two weeks later, where the same pattern was repeated. Spike followed the Slayer, they fought, they shagged, and she left without a backwards glance. Of course, this time around Spike didn’t have to leave right away, so he was back the next night, much to Buffy’s bemusement.
This time, they fought and shagged and then chatted for a bit afterwards. Not about anything important, of course. Spike wasn’t going to ask personal questions for fear she’d do a runner on him, and that wasn’t his goal.
For the first time in years, Spike was having fun. The girl had a sharp tongue, and she was quick on her feet. In some ways, she reminded him of Anouk—their relationship had been focused on snatching moments of pleasure where they could. With the daily brutality of war to remind them of how short life could be, their relationship had been intense, although brief. It hadn’t lasted a month past V-Day.
Spike didn’t harbor any illusions that this relationship would last any longer. If you could call what they had a relationship. It was good sex, a diversion, a distraction from a life that had seemed to grow stale. It wasn’t meant to be more than that.
His reaction to being unable to find Buffy surprised him. It had been six months since Spike met up with Buffy for the second time, and he’d always been able to locate her shortly after rolling into town.
She was nowhere to be found, however, and Spike finally went to her Watcher’s place as a last resort.
“What do you want?” the man asked coldly upon answering the door.
“I’m looking for the Slayer,” Spike replied. “Where is she?”
“Who are you?”
“William the Bloody.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the crossbow he carried. “You’re lying. William the Bloody is a myth.”
Spike snorted. “I’m as solid as you, mate.”
The weapon dipped down slightly. “What do you want with my Slayer?”
Spike shrugged. “We’ve run into each other a few times while I’ve been in town. Wanted to look her up again since I was here.” When the man remained silent, Spike demanded, “Did something happen to her?”
The Watcher hesitated then sighed. “She was called away on business, not that it’s any business of yours.”
“Look, it’s my business because I’ve chosen to make it my business,” Spike snapped. “Your girl is dangling by a thin thread, and you don’t even know it. She’d welcome death.”
“She’s the Slayer,” the Watcher replied coldly. “It’s her duty to face death.”
“It’s not her duty to embrace it.” They were at a stalemate, Spike’s blue eyes flashing, the Watcher turning a dull red. “Where the bloody hell did she go?”
“There’s another Hellmouth,” the Watcher finally said reluctantly. “One of my colleagues asked for her presence.”
Spike snarled wordlessly and stalked away without replying. He’d heard of what was happening on the other Hellmouth. The Master had risen again and had made the town his personal amusement park. Spike had heard, but he hadn’t seen the need to do anything about it. It would be suicidal for one vampire to go in and try to take out the entire enclave.
It was just as suicidal to send in a single Slayer.
Spike considered going back and asking the Watcher how much of a head start Buffy had on him, but he didn’t bother. It didn’t matter. Spike wasn’t done with her yet.
And Spike didn’t start anything that he didn’t finish.
~~~~~
Sunnydale was a ghost town, but there were remnants of life yet. What Spike didn’t understand was why anyone had remained. The Master and his minions might rule the nights, but the residents could have chosen to leave during the day. There was nothing keeping them here, and every reason to leave.
He never would understand humans.
Spike snatched a young vampire who was out alone, shoving him up against the brick wall of a long-deserted store. “Where are all the humans?”
“There aren’t any,” the vampire stammered. “They’re all at the factory.”
Spike pulled a stake out of his pocket and held it over the vampire’s heart. “Try again.”
“The—the high school.” The vampire stared at the piece of wood. “That’s sick, you know that? Carrying that around! What’s wrong with you?”
“Guess you’ll never find out,” Spike murmured to the dust that floated away a moment later.
The town wasn’t very big, which was a good thing. Buffy could have as much as a 24 hour head start on him, which meant that she might already be dead. Spike didn’t like that idea. He wanted to teach her to love the fight as much as he did.
Surely if a vampire with a soul could learn to love the world he lived in, a Slayer could as well.
It was mostly by trial and error that Spike found the high school. From there, he followed his nose, the scent of sweat and fear leaving a potent trail.
“You’ll not find an easy meal here.” The voice trembled a bit, but the middle-aged man’s hands were steady enough on the crossbow.
Spike raised his hands in the age-old gesture of peace. “Easy, old man. I’m not here for a meal. I’m looking for the Slayer.” When he saw the man’s finger tightening on the trigger, Spike quickly added, “The name’s William the Bloody. Girl’s Watcher told me where to find her. I knew she’d need help.”
“You know about the Master?”
“Sure. It’s all over the demon world.”
“And yet you did nothing?” The man raised the crossbow again. “You knew what was happening!”
“I’m not a bloody martyr,” Spike shot back. “What use was it me getting myself dusted? I’m no patron saint of sodding lost causes.”
“Then what are you doing here now?”
“Slayer and I have some unfinished business,” Spike said, sounding sulky. He didn’t like his honor questioned. “Besides, with the both of us, there’s a shot of making it through.”
The man let the crossbow fall. “Even if you could give us some time. Just a little time…”
“Time to do what?” Spike asked suspiciously, anxious to be on his way, and yet curious. There had to be more to this man than the initial impression of an aging librarian would indicate. Otherwise, he would never have been able to survive for so long in this hellhole.
The man shook his head. “This isn’t right. I have reason to believe that this—this universe isn’t the right one. Someone—a girl—made a wish, and this was the result. I believe that I’ve found a way to reverse it.”
Spike felt something twist inside. “Reverse it? How do you know what it will be like?”
“I know that it can’t be worse.”
Spike glanced down at the ground, and then met the man’s eyes. “How long do you need?”
“An hour, maybe two.”
“Tell me where to find the Slayer, and I’ll give you the time you need.”
“She went to find the Master,” the man replied. “He’s in an abandoned club, or he was.”
Spike swallowed, knowing that if the whole world turned out to be different, he might never have met the Slayer, might never have the chance to show her a different way of seeing the world. They might never have had a night in an ancient hotel room, screwing each other blind.
That night when he thought he might be starting to reach her. The night she told him how she got her scar. She was gone when the sun came up, however, and that was the last he’d seen of her. They’d never gotten to finish their conversation.
Then again, maybe in that other world, the Slayer would be happier.
“Right, then. Tell me how to find this place.”
~~~~~
The club was empty when he found it, but Spike found plenty of evidence that his quarry had been there. The vampires, anyway. Buffy’s scent was faint, but it was there. She’d been and gone, however, and Spike had no idea where to find her.
Then he smelled it.
The scent was burned into his memory—hundreds of days chained to a wall, with no way of escape from his tormentor would do that.
Angelus had been here.
Spike snarled wordlessly. If he’d known the older vampire was in Sunnydale, he would have come sooner. Spike followed the scent to its strongest point, and found the cage with the chains on the wall. As he realized what he was seeing, Spike smiled—an evil expression.
On second thought, he would have stayed away as long as Angelus was getting a taste of his own medicine.
Angelus’ trail was an easier one to follow, however, and so Spike set off tracking him—not to mention the Slayer. He couldn’t help but wonder what the girl was doing with the wanker. She wasn’t inclined to be charitable towards the undead.
Their combined scents led Spike to an old, dilapidated warehouse. From what he could hear, it seemed as though they’d started the battle without him, and he wasted no time in entering, hoping that he wasn’t too late.
The warehouse was full of humans and vampires, battling it out. Spike looked around anxiously for any sign of the Slayer, and finally caught sight of her battling it out with the Master. Angelus was nowhere to be seen, and Spike wondered if he’d already been killed.
Spike started making his way through the melee, pausing only to stake the vampires who made the mistake of getting into his way. He saw the fight turning, watched helplessly as the Master backhanded Buffy, dazing her. Spike knew he was still too far away to do anything, to change the outcome.
“Buffy! Get down!”
It was a faint hope that she would hear him, and more importantly, that she would actually listen to him. He watched as she caught sight of him, her eyes widening, and then she dropped bonelessly to the ground, the Master’s hands passing above her head.
The Slayer rolled clumsily, struggling to get to her feet as Spike sprinted the last few feet, launching himself at the Master, not thinking of his own safety. The ancient vampire had tried to take something of his, and Spike wasn’t about to let that go unpunished.
The Master snarled at him. “William the Bloody Traitor.”
Spike just grinned. “Should have come for you a long time ago.”
“You will wish you’d never been born,” the Master promised.
Spike took a step back. “Maybe, but it won’t be because of you.” He watched as the plank of wood appeared through the Master’s chest, raising an arm to cover his eyes as the dust flew off of the ancient vampire.
The skeleton collapsed on the ground, leaving him staring at the Slayer. “Buffy—”
“We’ve got cleanup to do,” she said, but there was a light in her eyes as she turned back to the battle that hadn’t been there in a long time.
And then the entire world disappeared in a flash of light.
~~~~~
Anya cursed her rotten luck. She hadn’t been human in twelve hundred years, and suddenly she was stuck, and as an adolescent! What the hell was she going to do now?
The results of Cordelia’s wish had been some of the most creative yet. An entire town nearly destroyed, Cordelia’s least favorite people turned—it had been beautiful. If only she’d realized what that Watcher was attempting, she would have killed him immediately. Instead, he managed to destroy her power center, reversing Cordelia’s wish, leaving Sunnydale a bright, cheerful place.
Anya sighed, and then began plotting. She wanted her necklace back, and she was going to get it.