All About Spike

Chapter: 1  2  3

Resistance
By Ozfan

Written after the events of Lies My Parents Told Me
Rated R (so far, we’ll get to the good stuff in a bit)
S/B, silly. Not very serious, but then, my stuff never really is. I'm in it for the fun, baby.



Chapter 1

She caught up with him right after she left Wood. He was walking in long, angry strides toward the cemetery. She called his name but he ignored her. She tried again.

“Spike! Wait up, goddammit!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Spike sighed and turned, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He smiled cruelly. She saw his lip curl up in the darkness. “What is it?”

What is it? Are you kidding me? What the hell happened back there?”

“Ask your boss.” Spike turned and kept walking. Buffy grabbed his arm.

“He could barely talk after what you did to him.” She stared up at him, then touched the bruise on his cheek. “But I guess he got in a few, huh.”

“Yeah.” He jerked his face away from her fingers, his eyes distant and cool.

“Tell me what happened,” Buffy said evenly. Spike thought for a moment.

“Nah,” he said finally. “Not in the mood for chit-chat, pet. Some other time.” He turned and started to walk off.

And then he was looking up at the sky, his back hitting the ground hard after Buffy kicked his legs out from under him. There she was, standing over him, fists clenched. “Don’t you walk away from me,” she hissed.

Spike leapt up with a low, angry growl. “I’m not your punchin’ bag, Slayer. Not anymore. You’d be wise to remember that.”

“You’d be wise to quit being such an asshole, buddy!” she shouted.

“I was set up tonight! I was almost bloody killed, and the first evil fucked with my head, but now it’s all deactivated and I’m tired of the lot of you.”

“Excuse me, but being deactivated is, like, a good thing. So why are you treating me like I tried to kill you? I ran over there because I knew what Wood was going to do, and I was worried.”

“Worried you’d lose a good fighter. Right. Got that.”

“You know that’s not all there is to it.”

“No, I don’t know,” Spike bit out. “More to the point, I don’t care.”

Buffy glared up at him. “Fine!” she snapped, then turned and huffed off. Spike watched her perfect little ass move as she retreated away from him. He knew he had no business staring at her ass at this heated, angsty, moment, but it was bloody impossible not to.

“Hey!” he shouted with enough volume to wake up the dead. Buffy stopped but didn’t turn around.

Spike sighed. “I’m sorry,” he called out. “I should’ve known you weren’t in on it.”

That made her turn. “You thought I was in on it?” Her face was livid with anger and indignation.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know what to think. You talked me into lettin’ the principal babysit me tonight, next thing you know he’s inviting my demon out for a dance.”

“You big jackass,” Buffy said, marching back to him. “I wouldn’t help Wood kill you. If anyone gets to kill you around here, it’s going to be me. Got it?”

Damn her and her angry little pout. Resistance was futile. He nodded. “Got it.”

They stood a foot apart, their eyes locked. Around them, the night was quiet.

“I can’t go back to the house. Not now. Too worked up,” he finally said.

“Okay. I have to get back and check on Dawn.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved.

After what felt like the longest staring contest in history, Spike took a breath, and Buffy stepped forward and kissed him on his mouth. A brief, short kiss, and when she pulled back, there was a warmth in her eyes that almost started his heart.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” she said quietly, then turned and ran.

Spike stood frozen to the spot until his legs remembered how to work again. He walked around for a while and then realized he was standing outside the Summers home.

He was seriously angry now. He was through with being the First’s bitch, through with being everyone’s whipping boy, and had decided to give serious thought and significant effort into falling out of love with Buffy, and then she had to go kiss him on his lips and look up at him with those big eyes of hers and his resolve exploded into thin air like vamp dust.

“Bullocks,” he swore, staring up at her bedroom window. And then he was climbing easily up to the window. He poked his head in and begin pushing himself the rest of the way through when he heard her voice at the door.

“I think you’ve taught me all I need to know.” He heard a door close. Spike stayed there, his ass hanging out of the window for all of Sunnydale to see and enjoy, wondering what to do now.

“Come all the way in, Spike,” Buffy said, her back still to him, not even having to turn to know he was there.

“No fair. I’m the one with keen vamp senses,” Spike said indignantly, only to have his foot catch on the windowsill, causing him to land ungraciously on his head.

“Ow.” Spike rubbed his noggin, then stared at Buffy, who was staring at the door.

“What was all that about then?” he said. Buffy turned to look at Spike, and her eyes were sad.

“Giles is dead to me.” When Spike gave her a disbelieving look she crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, maybe not dead to me, but I am seriously annoyed with him. Conspiring with Wood behind my back. He thinks I need to learn to make tough choices and not have you so close and blah blah repressed British crap blah blah.”

“He loves you. He’s worried about you. He don’t trust me, and why should he after everything, even with my shiny new soul?”

“Hey! Don’t go defending your attempted murderer. Or attempted accomplice to said murder… or something.” She sat down on the edge of her bed and kicked off her shoes.

“Sorry, but Rupes loves you like a dad, is all. He wants to see you happy.”

“No time for happy. I don’t even know what that feels like anymore.” Her voice was tired, and Buffy leaned back on the pillows and closed her eyes. Spike watched her.

“Tell me about the last time you were happy,” he said. “I mean, really happy.” He was leaning against the wall, arms resting on his knees, facing her bed. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She frowned, thinking. The silence stretched into minutes.

“I can’t remember,” she said simply.

No fair, love. You should be happy. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t make you happy. Sorry for a lot of things.” Spike swallowed and looked down at the rug.

“I know,” she said. Spike went to stand up.

“Don’t go. Just sit here with me for a bit. Please?”

Love’s bitch, that’s me, Spike thought. “Sure, why not? Nothing good on the telly.” He leaned back against the wall and watched her drift into sleep.

“I rezemba zumin,” she mumbled incoherently after a few minutes.

“Come again?”

“I remember… something,” she repeated. “Something happy.” Her words were tumbling out of her in a sleepy, altogether adorable, voice. “After Mom was better. We all went out to dinner. Me, Mom, Dawn. We got dressed up. We had drinks… even let Dawn have champagne. We came home and danced in the living room.”

Spike sat very still. Buffy hadn’t opened her eyes. She was curled up into her pillow, a small smile on her face.

“We spun around, the three of us. We just danced and laughed… and I was so full of hope. I knew everything was going to be all right.”

Spike sat there, waiting for more, wanting to hear more, but she had finally fallen asleep. He sat and watched over her.

“Everything is going to be all right,” he said quietly, almost a whisper, even though she couldn’t hear. Even though he wasn't sure he was right.



Continued in Chapter 2

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