Tara Bad

Huh, Nibblet's the Key. Whatever that is. Suppose that's why Slayer wanted me to be all protective of her and her mum last night. That Glory chippie's all interested and wants to do something. And, of course, bitch Slayer has to come by and blame all this on me. Like I'm the one who let her sister sneak out of the house and I'm the one who wouldn't tell her anything about who she was and I’m the one who made her feel like nothing she did was ever right. Bitch. Ow! Remind me not to kick that damned bier. Thing's made of concrete. Hurts when you kick it.

"You all right?" Tara asks from the doorway. I turn around to answer, but my mouth just drops open and no words will come.

Oh my, what is she not wearing? Did she walk all the way over here like that? It's not cold in Sunny-Hell, but she would definitely be noticed wearing that. That filmy, long, black dressing gown over a black teddy - complete with garters and stockings. Very nice look on her - very much not what she usually wears. The black heels give her a couple inches in height and her hair is curled softly around her face. Did she really go to all this trouble just to come see me? Very very confusing.

"I see you like this. Take a good look, Spike, because this is the last time you'll see anything like it."

What the hell is she talking about?

"I can't do this anymore. Demon or no, I can't keep coming to you. It's over. Finished. I won't be coming back," she says plainly, stepping down the stairs into the crypt.

"You've said that before, love. I've even told you, you didn't have to come back; you come anyway. I don't believe you." Hey look, I can make my mouth hang open and function for speaking at the same time. She's bloody gorgeous.

She shrugs. "Believe whatever you want. I only came here to tell you it's done."

I frown. "So, why are you dressed like that?" I nod at her, her clothing - or lack thereof.

"I don't know. Maybe to prove that I can dress however I want and still be strong enough to walk away. Or because I wanted to know if I could still get through this - tell you it's over - even though I'm totally turning you on. I d-don't know." The stutter she had nearly learned to control was slipping back in, just a little. She's losing some of her control.

This is unbelievable. For the last several weeks, she's come to me almost every night. All because she doesn't want all of her friends to know she's a demon. Or part demon. Sonofabitch. "No," I say.

"No? What does that mean?" She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Means, no. You're not going. I won't let you."

"You can't force me to stay with you. You know that."

"I'll tell your friends about your little secret," I snap. She's really making me angry. What the hell is she doing? She shouldn't come here dressed like that and decide that this whole thing, that she started, is finished.

"Tell them. I don't care anymore." She flinches, just a little, almost imperceptible, but I can see it.

"Oh, you care. It's why the little wheels in your head are still turning, trying to think up a reason to stay."

"No. I'm really not. I'm going to go and you know you can't stop me. And you know why. This is for the best, Spike. It's not healthy - me sneaking around on Willow, sleeping with a vampire. The stress is going to kill me."

"Just get the hell out!" I yell, startling her. She turns and runs out of the crypt, tripping on the top step, but not falling. I slam the door shut behind her and pound my fist against it until it bleeds. Bloody - sodding - stinking - fucking hell!

Shit. No, not because she's gone. Because I sodding let her in. Let her get to me. Fuck.

Part VI