She was walking along the street; I could feel her. However, as I was otherwise occupied at the time, what with having a gorgeous woman pressed against the wall, her long, slender legs wrapped around my hips. Oh, did I forget to mention my long, white fangs were buried deep in her neck? And let me tell you, if you've never fed while having sex, you are missing out on one of the greatest pleasures known to vampires.

Right, back to her -- the Slayer -- she walked by, and I swear she did a double-double take. Still don't know if that was because she saw me having sex, or she saw *me* having sex, but I'm going to find out. Why? Because I'm evilly curious like that.

So, the odd double take, then, I'm sure she actually *watched* for a full minute before moving on. Hasn't she ever seen two consenting adults engaging in sexual relations before? Okay, so the redhead I had pinned against the wall only consented to the sex part, not the fangs-in-her-neck part, but that's not really the point; she seemed to be enjoying herself. Well, the Slayer did finally move on to leave me to my ministrations.

I thought about siring this girl, for about a second, then I just killed her. She wasn't worth the trouble. I tossed her body behind some building and followed the Slayer instead. She staked four vampires and killed two other demons. Impressive, even if that one demon was the best friend of a cousin's great-grandson.

"What the hell do you want, Spike?" she asked, twirling around so fast I thought her hair would begin spinning and she would take off like a helicopter.

"This," I replied, grabbing her face in my hands and thrusting my tongue into her mouth, pressing my lips to hers with a force so great, we were both slammed against the wall.

She struggled hard against my grip, trying to free herself. The shifting of her body triggered a stirring deep down inside. Nice. Thanks, Slayer. Harder and harder. The more she struggled, the tighter my grip became. Stupid bint even tried to bite my tongue. Nearly lost control and started laughing, but I didn't. No, as she pushed hard against my chest, not kicking at me because I had my knee pressed into her thigh, I slowly released her mouth, but held her face in my hands. I swear she tried to spit in my face. Nice try, Slayer.

Staring directly into those big, green eyes of hers, I shifted into what we call 'game-face;' enlarged browridge, yellowed eyes, long, pointy teeth; and actually saw her gasp. Not really a gasp of true fear, no, more of surprise; she was caught off-guard. The fear came later.

She began struggling harder and, this time, I did laugh, a hearty chuckle. "No sense fightin' me, Slayer. You know I'm gonna win." I leaned forward, shifting her head to the side, and roughly licked the side of her neck, feeling the shiver that traveled down her spine. She knew what was next, knew it was coming, that there was no way for her to stop it. Grazing my elongated fangs over her flesh elicited another response. Now we are nearing fear. I pierced her warm flesh with those fangs and she cried out in pain.

I'm stronger than she believes me to be. I have a tight hold on her as I drink. Slayer blood is like fine wine to vampires. Dru once described it as intoxicating, or was that the smell of fear? Either way, the scent of her, her blood, her fear, it was turning me on. The taste of her blood on my lips, on my tongue, down my throat; to drink from a slayer is a marvelous thing. I'm just betting she wished she had been less of a bitch to me. Would things be different now? Maybe. Who's to say? Kindness goes a long way, but I don't think she gets that. To her, I've always been a vampire - an 'evil, blood-sucking fiend' - unless she needed me for something - information, protection, a sounding board, a punching bag, forget-about-the-rest-of-the-world-for-a-while sex. And you know what? I let her do it. I let her use me; I never tried to stop her. Sure, partly because I needed to keep my connection to the local butcher - not being able to feed on my own because of that stupid government chip in my head - but also, there must have been something else. Maybe it was love, or maybe I was just so starved for attention that I took it any way I could get it.

Right. Enough with the psychoanalysis. Back to the task at hand - draining the Slayer. But, I couldn't. I couldn't kill her. Not that way. She still had plenty left; I didn't take enough to still her heart.

I withdrew my fangs and kissed her again, sliding my tongue over her lips, smearing them with her blood. Ending the kiss, I leaned in close, right beside her ear and whispered, "Do you want to be like me?" Then, felt her shake her head 'no.'

So, I asked, "Do you want to die?"

She swallowed, and replied, "No, Spike. I don't," with a voice barely above a whisper. Had I not been a vampire, I might not have heard her at all.

"What do I receive in exchange for letting you live?" I asked. Hey, I had to get something out of this deal.

Her face hardened, green eyes stared into my blue ones - vampire face gone. She opened her mouth to speak, but I had one stipulation...

"And don't give me that 'I won't stake you right now' crap. I deserve much more than that for not taking your life."

She blinked her eyes once, slowly. "I don't know." Putting a hand to her neck, she glanced away for a moment.

I pulled her hand away from her wound and pinned her arms against the wall over her head, drawing another gasp. "Sorry. But I need you to pay attention." I waited for a nod from her to continue; "Do you plan to kill me?"

"No, Spike. At least, not today," she answered.

"So, I spare your life and I get the next six hours?"

The Slayer sighed; I felt her firm breasts rise and fall against my chest. "What do you want?"

"Oh no you don't, Slayer! You don't get to ask the questions. And you don't get to weasel me into a deal of convenience. Start thinking, but do it fast!"

"Apparently you don't want your 'life;' you would have let me go already. You already feed on whomever you want, so that's not it." Then she smiled. "I know what you want. And I can't give you that. I *never* will," she snarled.

My grip on her wrists tightened, but she didn't make a sound or move a muscle. "You think I want you to tell me *that* in exchange for your life? You are off... even so, why wouldn't you just say it to save your sorry ass?"

"Because you won't kill me anyway. You can't."

"Oh yeah?" I asked with a quirk of that sexy, scarred eyebrow. *And yes, I have been told that scar is sexy.*

"Yes, Spike. You can't kill me because you want to hear me say it. And I won't."

"Then you die. I *can* kill you. And I will. And don't think I'm going to turn you either, because you'd still find a way to help your Scooby friends. Hell, they'd probably give you your soul back to keep you around. You know what, maybe I will turn you. Then drop you off at Red's door so she can restore your soul, then you'll have to feel guilty about all those not-so-pleasant things you've done. You can be all tortured and brooding like the Poofter."

I knew she wanted to say: "Do you ever shut up?" but she opted for: "What if it doesn't work out that way?"

Had to give her a 'huh?' look for that one; she had lost me.

"What if they can't restore my soul? Or, they don't want to? Or, I don't feel guilty? Or, I kill them before they get that far?"

*So, she thinks she's so smart.* "Got that all taken care of, love. You forget I've had a long time to plan this. Now, enough jawing. What's your side of the deal?"

"I won't kill you. Isn't that enough? A life for a life? Or, in your case, an unlife?"

"That's the best you can do? I could snap your neck right here, end your meager existence forever, and the best you can give me is that you won't kill me? Not good enough, Goldilocks."

She blinked and looked at me, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, soft and sweet and full of... something. I felt her arms struggling against my hold, and her free leg sliding around my hip.

*Hey, hold it! What is she trying to pull?* I pushed away, releasing my hold on her completely. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Her response was that 'deer-in-headlights' look combined with a slightly trembling lower lip.

"Run along home, Slayer. I'll not bother you again." I waved her off, and she gave me one last look, then turned and walked away.

I hate her. Always have. Love the Slayer? Me? Not even. All of that, just an act to stay on their side. Only needed to play nice long enough to keep m'self a good blood supply 'til I could get that sodding chip out of my head. Slayer thought I loved her; Scoobies thought I loved the Slayer. Truth is, I couldn't stand any of them, 'cept maybe Joyce, but she died, just made nice to get what I needed. That fling with the Slayer was just a perk, best perk a vampire could have, but still just a perk. Nothing more.

Home sweet crypt. I'm going to miss this place. Yeah, I'm heading out of Sunny-D - again. I could stick around to torment the Slayer, but I don't think she finds me so tormentful anymore. So, I'm going to leave. There is nothing left for me to do here, nothing tying me here. I have no reason to stay.


Six Months Later


You know, I got all the way to Dallas, Texas before I realized I'd left my damned duster back in that crypt? Had the shorter leather jacket, but the long duster I'd left behind, and I have no idea how I managed that. I wear the thing everywhere. Remember takin' it off to do some packing and loading into the car, and guess I must have forgotten to grab it before I leapt into the DeSoto (which was graciously returned to me by some kind soul from LA) and took off for anywhere else. Well, I was already in Dallas, so I said 'sod it' and just lived without the damned thing. And that worked well for about five months. Then I had to have it back. Don't have any idea if it's still in that crypt, but I'm gonna look.

//CRASH//

It has been SO long since I've done that! I hate that sodding sign. Why would anyone want to be welcomed to Sunnydale? This place sits on the Hellmouth. That should be enough to drive people elsewhere. But, they come anyway. People are sheep - they go where they're led. So, off to the crypt I go. Wonder if anything's moved in, or if the thing's still standing. Yeah, it's only been six months, but a lot can happen in half a year. Especially in Sunnydale.

And what do I find when I get there? A sniffling, sobbing Slayer, curled up on the floor, hugging my duster. What the hell? So, I'm not gonna go in, I'll just stand by the window, watching, listening. What is she doing? Why is she in there? Someone's coming. Is there some kind of party happening at my crypt?

"Buffy, are you in here?" Red calls into the dark thing that used to be my home, but gets no reply in words, only sniffles. "Buffy, what's going on? Why are you here?"

That's what I'd like to know.

"Willow," Slayer sobs, getting wet, salty tears all over my duster, "why?"

"Why what, Buffy?" Willow asks, the strangest look of confusion and concern on her face; I almost laugh, but restrain myself.

Slayer looks up at Willow. "He's dead. He's gone. And I never told him."

Word travels fast... huh? I'm dead? That's inters... hey, wait, I *am* dead. Does she mean I'm *dust*?

"Never told him what, Buff?" Red probes gently.

Slayer chokes back a sob and blinks several times, clearing her eyes I would imagine. "I never told him that I loved him. He spent all that time telling me he loved me. Trying to make me believe it, and I never did. I didn't want to believe it. But, now that he's gone...." Slayer stops talking and lowers her head.

That was a lot easier than I'd thought it was gonna be. Didn't think the Slayer would be so easy to play. Well, on this subject anyway. Impressed m'self there, I did.

"Buffy, I'm so sorry. What made you realize, I mean, why didn't you ever tell, oh Buffy..." Red scoots over closer to her friend, placing an arm around her shoulders, comforting her.

"I know, but I just couldn't tell him. God, he was just such a pain in the ass. And he irritated me, but he also knew exactly what to do, or say to make things seem just a little bit better."

Oh, stop, I'm gettin' all misty.

Slayer lowers her head. "I wish I had told him. Maybe he wouldn't have done this," she shifts her hair away to reveal the fang marks to her neck where I bit her before I left.

"Buffy, he bit you? When?" Red seems astonished and hurt. Why? I didn't hurt *her*.

"Yeah. Just before he disappeared."

"Why?"

Slayer shrugs. "I don't know. He could have killed me. He didn't. I still don't know why. But when I kissed him, he got angry and told me to go home; said he wouldn't bother me anymore. And, he didn't. But I didn't think he meant 'forever'." Slayer nearly starts sobbing again.

Wow. Well, color me lost in space. She really fell for it, didn't she? Had some bloke run back to Sunny-D and spread the word that someone had gotten me, and they all bought it. *And* she fell for *me*. All that time, she kept tellin' me she hated me, when she was fallin' all over me. All part of the master plan, of course, just happened a bit different than I'd expected.

She can have the duster. I don't really need it now anyway.

Wonder what Angel's up to down in LA?

End