Imagine: you're a new vampire and need to have your first meal. You and Spike go out for your first kill, but you don't want to kill anyone... (season 5)
"What if you came up with some sort of... moral code?"
"A moral code?" I ask, intrigued for the first time since this depressing conversation started.
"Yeah. Like... only kill arseholes. Maybe that'll make the feeding easier for you."
"Well, how am I supposed to figure out who's one and who isn't?" I counter, staring down at my shoes that are swinging from the barstool in the dimly lit nightclub. The Bronze is as lively as ever, but I feel nauseous and nervous - also, Spike's stare boring into me isn't making anything easier.
Spike sighs like I'm being intentionally difficult. "Well... Come on, this place is full of frat boys that are way too handsy, and -"
"Okay, fair point." I'm so very, very hungry and I don't have the energy to come up with a better option. Spike, of all people, is the only one I can talk to about vampire stuff. Against all odds, he seems to understand how difficult it is for me to... actually take a life and feed. I know I have to, but there's a constant whisper in the back of my mind, warning me, berating me.
I suck my teeth, wondering how it'll feel when my fangs sink into flesh for the first time. Anything must feel better than the hollowness in my chest: it feels like it's caving in and will collapse any second.
"Y/N?"
"Huh?" I snap out of my thoughts, and Spike is still staring at me, head tilted to the side, as if analysing me. A shiver runs up my spine and I excuse myself from the table, "I'm gonna get a drink."
He murmurs something as I take a seat at the bar. I can't help glancing back at him nervously, our eyes locking. He gives me a small, encouraging smile.
I press my lips together. Maybe it won't be so bad, but also, it probably will be so bad. I order two beers (one's for Spike).
I stare at the wooden bar, tracing the swirls and carved graffitied initials with a painted nail. X + C , F + B...
"Spike," I start when I feel someone take the seat next to me, "I know what you're gonna say..."
"You do?" asks an unfamiliar voice. I whip my head around to find a tall brunette, dressed in a half buttoned blue shirt. He'd be handsome if it wasn't for the leering smile ruining his pink lips. "Do share, sweetheart."
My face crumples into a frown, "Sorry, thought you were someone else."
I turn to the bartender as she slides two bottles over to me and I hand her the cash. She gives me a warm smile, which I reciprocate, until I feel a hand slide over my bottom.
"Would you like to dance?" he asks right into my ear, his breath reeking of booze. He presses into me from behind, and my back goes rigid against his front.
I can imagine Spike telling me that this is it, this is my chance, kill this asshole without a second thought. And I kind of want to, but my body's not co-operating, like it's in survival mode. Why do I feel so scared ?
He's so close that I hear him swallow thickly, "Or I could buy you a beer? I'm Troy, by the way."
"I've already got one, thanks." I say through gritted teeth, not daring to move in case he grabs me again.
I wasn't ready. I'm not ready. I can't feed, I can't kill, I can't even fend off one creep in a bar.
I twist my body, facing Troy although I can't meet his eyes. His eyes are piecing into me - and not in the good way - but my attention focuses on the man behind him, who is sitting silently with a knuckle in his mouth. He looks fit to explode, but is trying to let me handle the situation. I'm so stupid - why can't I? I flash my eyes wide for half a second, pleading with all my might that he'll know what it means, and then I turn back to Troy.
Hunger swells deep within me as I imagine biting into his neck, but a hopeless fear sparks as his large hand wraps around my forearm like a python.
"Baby," a voice calls from behind him. I can't see his face but I don't need to because he understood and he's here. "Where are those beers?"
"Here." I press both the bottles into Spike's cool hands, as Troy steps aside to let him reach me. I link my arm through Spike's - is this convincing? Troy raises his chin, staring down at me like he's trying to solve a puzzle.
Before I can think, I jump up and grab Spike's face with one hand and kiss his lips. He kisses me back and although it's only for a few seconds, it dulls the hunger inside me just a little.
Troy nods before slipping away into the sea of bodies, without even saying sorry.
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"So, good thinking with the fake dating." I compliment him quietly as we walk home, my arm still linked through his. I haven't removed it, and he's made no effort to either.
"It was the first thing that came to my mind," he says seriously, "I know you wouldn't want to cause a scene, although it if were anyone else, I would've bashed his head against the bar until blood was coming out both his ears."
A small smile twitches on my lips, "Thanks."
A second passes. "What a prick!" I groan, clenching my fists, letting the pent up anger wash over me like a tsunami. Spike's jaw tenses and I see the cogs turning in his brain - he's in half a mind to go back there, but I don't want him to. I just want to go back to the crypt.
With Spike.
So why is he unhooking our arms?
"I've got to go run an errand. I'll be back in ten, okay?"
The crypt is only a few strides away, and I was looking forward to, I don't know, doing something with him.
"Okay?" I respond, as he threatens to disappear into the night, "Wait! You're not going to go back there, are you?"
"No, pet," he assures me, "I'll see you later."
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"Two things." he calls to me as soon as he's through the door.
I meet him in the living room with two cups of tea, setting them on the table so he can explain his mysterious absence.
He plops a brown paper bag down next to the mugs and takes out three bags of blood. "First - I've bagged a new deal with the butcher. He's gonna supply me with double the amount of blood he was giving me so you can use it to."
I'm surprised, but pleased as I ask, "How?"
He waves a hand, "Just, you know, promised him a kitten each week. He's a demon, remember?"
"Oh right."
"Secondly," he takes out a chocolate bar and chucks it at me, "I got us some snacks. I'm sorry I pushed you to go out for your first kill. Shouldn't have done that. You can have pigs blood until you're ready, and if you're never ready, that's okay too."
I smile, catching my favourite chocolate bar (it's nice how he remembers) and I feel myself blush. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"No worries, pet," he starts chomping on some junk food himself, "But there is something you're gonna have to do for me..."
"Oh yeah?" I ask sceptically, raising an eyebrow.
"Teach me how to win at poker so I can get those kittens." He shrugs while he says it but I can tell he's embarrassed, which makes a small smile spread across my lips, "I can't keep on cheating, the boys are already too suspicious."
"Yeah, okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I sigh with a smile. I sink back into the soft sofa and when Spike joins me, I resist the urge to touch him again. I don't know... when he kissed me, it... I can't stop thinking about it.
I hit his knee with my fist affectionately, "This is very considerate of you. Like, actually. Thanks."
"Gotta look after my girl, right?" he winks at me, he actually winks at me. I roll my eyes (although I feel very weird about him referring to me as 'my girl').
"What do you wanna watch?" I breeze past it, getting up to examine the minimal DVDs Spike's acquired in his years, "Star Wars, Monty Python, Gone with the Wind, Ghostbusters... these are so random."
"Whatever you want, pet," he says, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "Although I've not watched Ghostbusters in a while..."
heyyy thanks for reading!! remember to vote, follow, etc. Spike references numerous films through the series and it was fun to see (via buffy-boards.com) how random they are lol