All About Spike - Print Version
Eight Days a Week
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Posted: November 23, 2001
Please archive wherever appropriate. Any feedback is much appreciated.
I'm sure I'm not the only person who noticed Giles' line in "All the
Way" about Buffy patrolling every night for the past week. And of
course, there's the implication that she's been patrolling with Spike.
From there, the little plot bunnies just started hopping! (sorry,
Anya!) And then there's the lovely little question of just what got
her thinking in a certain way when Spike mentions having a rough and tumble...
SUMMARY: What did Buffy and Spike find to talk about during the seven
nights before Halloween when they were patrolling together?
SPOILERS: Up to "All the Way" (season 6)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: To (guess who!) my Beta reader Linda, who helped
get my Spike fanfic Muse back from the dead. To Joss and the gang
for giving us some GREAT episodes so far! Oh, and the title comes
from the catchy little Beatles tune.
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them for
a quick spin through the cemetery. I promise to have them back in
time for supper.
Buffy: Actually Spike had a really good idea.
Maybe I should patrol...
Giles: Buffy, you've been patrolling every night this
-- "All the Way"
Wednesday, Oct. 24th
"So -- how you really doing, Slayer?"
Buffy shot the bleach-blonde vampire a sidelong look, the automatic
response dying on her lips as she regarded him. 'Fine,' she had been
going to say, but that wasn't true. And somewhere along the way Buffy
had fallen into the habit of telling Spike the truth. Even when she
didn't want to. Especially when she didn't want to.
"Not too bad," she said softly. "I guess."
Spike shifted the crossbow to his other hand as they walked around a
larger than usual tombstone. The night was quiet and cool, only the
wind moving through the trees and the faint rustle of the grass under their
feet breaking the silence.
Buffy shrugged. "Better than yesterday. Not as good as tomorrow.
I don't know. What do you want me to say, Spike?"
He caught her eye. "Nothing," he said quietly. "You don't
have to say anything. Not if you don't want to. I just...I
was..." The vampire's voice trailed away.
Buffy's lips curled into a faint smile. He was worried.
About her. "Thanks," she said, meaning it. "That's..."
The Slayer hesitated, as if trying to decide whether she should go on
or not. In the end though, she fell back on the simple truth.
"That's what I like about you, Spike," Buffy said, biting her lip a
little. "You...you're the only one who doesn't want anything from
The vampire laughed once, sharply. "Fat lot you know, Slayer,"
she thought she heard him mutter under his breath, but he had moved a few
paces away so perhaps she was mistaken. When he did speak again his
voice was even.
Buffy sighed once more and came to a stop near another grave marker,
leaning against it and taking a deep breath.
"They all want something from me," she said slowly, trying to put her
thoughts into words. "Giles, Xander, Dawn, Willow...all of them.
They want me to be strong. Be the Slayer. Look after them.
But you...you're the only one who will just let me be me."
Spike turned then took a few paces back towards her, stopping a few
steps away. His face was hidden in shadow but she thought she caught
a glimpse of understanding in his eyes.
"They care about you."
Buffy's lips twisted. "I know. I know they do. And
I love them too. But sometimes... I just get so tired sometimes,
trying to be everything they want. It's like there's nothing left
"So why don't you tell them to bugger off? Better yet, break a
bone or two. That'd get the point across real well."
Buffy smiled. Spike seemed to be doing that more and more -- making
her smile. And it was disorienting. Disconcerting. Distracting.
Disturbing. And probably lots of other words that started with 'dis'.
"No," she said, still smiling. "Can't do that. I think there's
a rule somewhere. Besides, I'm the Slayer. Terrorizing my friends
is definitely of the bad." She shook her head, straightening and
moving forward again.
"I'll be fine. Really I will. I just need..."
"Actually, no. I need to kill this demon. Duck, Spike!"
* * *
Thursday, Oct 25
"Spike, where did you get all that furniture anyway? 'Cause I'm
having a real problem picturing you hanging out at yard sales."
The vampire grinned, lengthening his stride to catch up to her.
"Where d'you think I got it?"
"Lessee...at a guess -- you stole it."
"Bloody right I did. Except the mini-bar. No, wait.
Stole that too. 'Course, the hardest bit was getting the bed down
"I so don't want to know."
"Then why'd you ask?"
Buffy frowned. "It's called making polite conversation.
Maybe you should try it sometime."
This time the vampire laughed out loud. "You and me - we're not
meant for polite conversation, Slayer. We're for fighting and violence
Abruptly his voice broke off as if he had been choked, and he increased
his pace, hurrying away from her. Buffy's frown deepened as she moved
"And what? What were you going to say?"
"Just forget it."
"Spike, I swear I'm going to..."
His pace didn't slacken. "You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do."
"No you don't."
This was getting ridiculous. Buffy stopped. She was NOT
going to do this with him. "OK. Fine," she said to his retreating
back. "You're right. I don't want to know."
Aware that she was being childish but not really caring, Buffy turned
and stomped away, not looking back. Unfortunately she wasn't looking
down either, which was why she suddenly found herself toppling headfirst
into an open grave.
Instantly the memories came surging back like floodwaters, the same
memories that had her waking up each night in a cold sweat, her heart racing
and her body trembling. The remembrance of waking up in a tiny box,
no light and only a few breaths of stale air left, of clawing her way desperately
back to the surface, of trying to ignore the pain in her hands as her nails
ripped and tore, the warmth of the blood as it trickled down the back of
And then she was out again, and safe. There was air and moonlight,
a cool breeze curling through her hair. Someone's arms were wrapped
tightly around her, the scent of cigarettes and leather replacing the remembered
stench of death and terror.
"Breathe, Buffy. You're safe. I've got you."
For a moment Buffy remained motionless, her heart pounding and a rushing
noise in her ears. And then it hit her. Spike. She was
with Spike. It was over and she was safe. Alive. Oh god.
Abruptly her muscles relaxed and she sagged in his embrace.
One hand was stroking her hair. "Don't think about it, love.
Buffy shook her head slightly. "No it's not. It will never
be over." To her horror, her voice was shaking and something that
felt suspiciously like tears were beginning to form in her eyes.
She bit her lip, her fingers curling tightly into the leather of his coat.
"It's never going to end. I'll be having nightmares about this
until I'm ninety!"
"Probably." The vampire's voice was dispassionate.
Shock rippled through Buffy, enough that she managed to forget her terror,
at least for a moment.
Spike met her gaze. "Yeah, you will. It's no use sugar-coating
this, Slayer. Clawing your way out of your own grave isn't something
you just get over. Believe me. It's something that's going
to stay with you until your dying day."
Stunned, Buffy took a step back, pulling out of his arms. "That..."
It took her a moment to get her voice working properly. "That's not
He smiled, a shadow of his usual mocking grin. "You want sympathy
then you go back to the Scoobies and tell them what they did. Tell
them the mistake they made. I'm sure you'll get all the sympathy
you want then."
Buffy shook her head, a measure of equilibrium returning to her.
"No. I told you. They can never know."
Spike looked away and dug in his pocket for a cigarette. "Yeah,
well don't worry. I'm not going to tell them either. Told you
I wouldn't. Still think you should though. They need to know.
You're not doing them any favours, Summers."
Buffy turned away, staring pensively out across the cemetery.
"What would be the point? All it would do is hurt them. And
I don't want to do that. They...they did what they thought was right.
They couldn't know..."
"What they were doing to you."
"Yeah," Buffy agreed softly, hugging her arms to her chest, and shivering
slightly. She sensed rather than heard Spike move up behind her,
one hand going up to touch her lightly on the shoulder.
"Is it really so bad? Living?"
The Slayer took a deep breath then exhaled it. "Maybe not," she
said slowly. "It doesn't hurt as much as it did at first. Or
maybe I'm just getting used to the pain. I can even forget sometimes,
for a minute or two. But I can't stop wondering..."
"What?" The word was like a whisper against her skin.
Buffy closed her eyes. "What will happen the next time.
When I...when I die again. Will they do it again? Bring me
back? And if they do, when will..." Buffy's voice broke and
she swallowed. A long moment passed.
"When will I get to rest?" she said at last, despair lacing her voice.
Spike's fingers tightened around her shoulder but he said nothing.
Instead they stood there silently together while the wind whistled softly
between the tombstones and clouds scudded across the sky, obscuring the
* * *
Friday, October 26th
Near Buffy's house
"I hate demons." Buffy tried ineffectively to rub away some of
the green blood streaking her shirt and pants, with the back of one hand.
She caught the sideways glance Spike sent her and smiled to herself.
"Present company excluded of course," she added.
"Thanks so much. Gonna sleep better days, knowing that."
"And colour me so relieved." Buffy looked downward again, a grimace
crossing her face. "Or kind of a puce-y green. And I say again
"And whose fault was that?"
Spike snorted. "Yeah, right. You could have done it the
easy way, taken the demon out with the crossbow, not gotten your lily whites
dirty. But no, you had to go all Lizzie Borden with that axe."
"Only to save your pathetic unlife. If you hadn't been so busy
"Showing off? I was not showing off."
"You so were. Face it Spike, you were preening. Ooh, look
at me. I'm the Big Bad, I can kill demons, I'm all bleached and blond
and with the testosterone. And look what happened..."
"Yeah, you nearly neutered me for real this time."
Buffy shook her head, her hair swinging. "I told you to hold still.
If you had just..."
"Stayed put while you tried to geld me with a battle axe? No way,
Summers. There's bits of me I'm very attached to. Some more
"Um. Changing the subject now..."
* * *
Saturday, October 27th
Outside the Cemetery
"You again? Spike, are you following me?"
"I live here Summers, remember? 'Sides, you're the one who's always
showing up. What, the other eleven graveyards in Sunnydale aren't
good enough for you?"
Buffy grinned. "Maybe I just like making sure you miss 'Passions'."
Spike shrugged, tossing away the remains of his cigarette and sliding
down off the tombstone. "Reruns. And KCET's having a sodding
pledge drive again."
The Slayer's eyebrows shot up. "KCET? Never took you for
a PBS kinda guy, Spike."
"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Slayer." His
gaze met hers and an uncomfortable silence fell. Finally, Spike looked
away. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go kill something."
Buffy shivered slightly. "In a second. Spike..."
"What is it?"
"Um...Dawn was asking about you."
Spike turned back to her, a brief expression of concern crossing his
face. "She okay?"
Buffy nodded. "She's fine. She just wondered...why you don't
come around anymore. I told her I'd ask. I think she misses
A soft smile appeared fleetingly on the vampire's face, but it vanished
quickly, so quickly that Buffy wasn't sure she had really seen it.
"I miss the niblet too," the vampire was saying.
"So -- why don't you come and see her? You...you'd be welcome,
There it was again -- that smile, appearing and disappearing like mist
in the sunlight. "Thanks. But it's better if I stay away."
"Why? You were with her all summer from what I can gather.
You even babysat -- which I still find strange on pretty much every level."
He didn't respond to that, saying instead: "You lot are coddling
her, you know."
"You're all trying to wrap her in cotton wool, keep her out of harm's
way. But it won't work. All you're doing is wrapping her up
so tight she'll do anything to escape being suffocated."
Buffy folded her arms. "What do you know about it, Spike?"
"A fair bit. More than you, probably. You said it yourself
-- I was with her all summer. You weren't."
A faint shaft of pain shot through her. "No, I wasn't. But I'm
back now. And I know that she needs to be protected."
"Yeah," the vampire said agreeably, "but you can do that and still give
the platelet some space. Trust her. Let her off the leash a
Buffy shook her head. "I...I can't. What if something happens
to her? She's only fifteen..."
He took a step closer. "So? Think back, Slayer. What
was life like when you were fifteen?"
The Slayer moved back a pace, a hard expression coming over her face.
When she spoke her voice was flat.
"When I was fifteen my parents broke up. I had to spend all my
time either training with Merrick or lying to my parents and sneaking out
at night to kill vampires. On the day before my sixteenth birthday
I burned down the gym and got kicked out of school." She took a deep
"Or maybe you'd like to talk about when I was sixteen instead?
That was the year I discovered my boyfriend was a vampire. My best
friends were nearly killed, not just once but so often I lost count.
I went to my first frat party at sixteen and was almost sacrificed to a
giant reptile demon. When I was sixteen you came to town and tried
to kill me, and it's only the fact that my mom hit you over the head with
an axe that you didn't succeed."
Spike looked away. Buffy paused, then added quietly. "When
I was sixteen I died."
There was a long silence. "Buffy..."
She closed her eyes. "No, Spike. At fifteen, my life was
hell. And then it got worse. No. I'm going to do everything
I can to keep Dawn safe, and if that means being overprotective and the
big bad sister then fine, that's what I'll do. Because she's the
most important thing in the world to me. And I will do whatever it
takes to keep her from harm."
"It might not be enough."
Buffy turned and walked away. "I know," she said tiredly.
* * *
Sunday, October 28th
"Do you really eat kittens?" Buffy leaned a little further back
on the tombstone, swinging her feet idly.
Spike turned to look at her. "I suppose if I say yes you'll get
all self-righteous and go on about how cute and innocent they are."
The Slayer shook her head. "Well, they are. But I'm pretty
much out of self-righteousness these days. I'm just curious."
"Well then. Yeah. I do. When I win, that is."
The vampire scowled. "If you didn't want to hear the answer why'd
Buffy sighed. "I don't know. Something to talk about while
we wait for Mr Tardy here to rise." She indicated the soft earth
beneath the tombstone she was sitting on with the toe of one shoe.
"Yeah, and what I'm doing here I don't know. Bad enough you've
got me killing my own kind. Now we're doing it before they're barely
even out of the grave. It's bloody morbid."
"Yeah, well you don't have to stay. Go home and watch something.
I think 'Interview With a Vampire' is on. That should be just up
Spike laughed shortly. "Brad sodding Pitt as Louis? And
Tom Cruise with the nancy boy hair? Please. Besides, Anne Rice
has got a lot to answer for. I know a lot of blokes, would like to
see something nasty happen to her."
Buffy tilted her head. "Why?"
Spike looked at her in disbelief. "You ever read the sodding books?"
"Gee, let's think. What shall I read in the few spare hours I've
got when I'm not out killing vampires or saving the world from yet another
apocalypse? Oh, I know -- I think I'll read a book about vampires.
Spike ground out his cigarette with one heel. "Well, you're not
missing much, Summers. I made it halfway through the first one."
His voice took on a falsetto note. "Ooh, I'm Louis. I'm such
a big bad vampire. Think I'll kill someone. But, oh no...I
feel all guilty. I'll never ever do it again. 'Cause it's wrong!
Oops. Hungry. Better kill someone. Oh, the guilt, whatever
shall I do..?" He paused. "Make up your bloody mind, I kept
Buffy laughed softly. And Spike felt something go through him,
warming his cold body. He had made her laugh. True, it was
only for a moment, her smile already fading and the familiar haunted look
returning to her face...but she had laughed. And just for this moment,
it was enough.
* * *
Monday, October 29th
Near Buffy's House
"Spike..." Buffy's voice trailed off, as if she had forgotten
what she was going to say. Or was so lost in memories she would never
find her way back.
Spike swallowed, shooting her a quick worried glance. She wasn't
getting any better. The Slayer was still distant and detached, despite
the jokes and occasional smiles, still prone to drifting off. Away
from him. As if she were barely in this world with one foot still
lodged firmly in the next. And trapped between both.
It would be so easy. Spike had thought it a hundred times, and
each time it filled him with a feeling of sick dread. All it would
take would be one false move on her part, one small slip during a fight,
whether by accident -- or not -- and she'd be dead. Again.
And this time it would be for good. Because Spike had sworn that
he would kill anyone who tried to bring her back this time. No matter
what it took, even if he died trying, he would see to it. He would
protect her in death, if he couldn't do it in life.
It was the least he could do.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't fight like the demon he was to keep
her alive and in this world...
"What what?" She gave him a startled glance.
"You said 'Spike'. Spike what?"
"Oh. Yeah. Spike..."
The vampire sighed. "Going to be one of those conversations, I
can tell. Spit it out, Slayer."
She swallowed. A long moment went by then Buffy finally said,
her voice almost a whisper: "I went by my...my grave earlier."
A pang shot through him. "Why?"
"I...I don't know. I just...I..."
"Why are you doing this to yourself, Buffy? Why can't you just
let it rest?"
"Because they couldn't let me rest!" she shot back, rubbing her arms,
as if to ward off the cold. For a moment Spike debated offering her
his coat but decided against it. It wasn't like she would actually
accept it anyway.
"And besides," she was saying, "I wanted to see...to see... Spike,
what happened to the headstone? It wasn't there.
There were only little bits left."
He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, hiding the way his fists
had clenched. "I destroyed it," he said simply.
"Because you didn't need to see it again. Because it isn't true
anymore. And because I didn't need another sodding reminder."
There was another pause. "Oh."
"You're welcome, Slayer."
* * *
Tuesday, October 30th
The Woods near the Cemetery
"You'd think someone with your experience with stakes would be used
to this. Hold bloody still!"
Buffy flinched slightly as the vampire moved closer and took her hand
in his own, tilting it up towards the moonlight. But she didn't pull
away, even though her heart was still racing uncomfortably fast.
"From the fight," she told herself breathlessly. It had absolutely
nothing to do with the fact that Spike was essentially holding her hand.
"Hold still, I said," he growled up at her before returning his attention
to the palm of her hand. Frowning Buffy leaned closer, trying to
see for herself. There. A piece of wood, almost an inch long,
disappearing under her skin.
"All this fuss over a little splinter. Thought you were the big
"Excuse me, it's not a little splinter, it's half a tree. And
I am so -- Ouch!" Buffy let out a startled yelp as black fingernails
closed around the end of the sliver...and pulled.
"Spike..." she said, trying to retrieve her hand, but he held on grimly,
working the splinter out. Finally, after several seconds he managed
to pull it free. Immediately Buffy snatched her hand back and glared
at him. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
The vampire gave her a quick grin that was pure, undiluted Spike.
She gritted her teeth, staring blindly down at the blood which was beginning
to well up in the palm of her hand. "You're a sadist, Spike!"
"And I say again -- yeah, so? Here, let me see that." Without
waiting for permission he reached forward and took hold of her hand again,
peering at the wound. "Yeah, it's all out. Guess you'll live
after all, Slayer."
And then, automatically, without even thinking about what he was doing,
the vampire raised her hand to his mouth and ran his tongue across her
palm, licking the blood away in a soft sensuous motion, his eyes half-closed.
And the world stopped.
At his touch, Buffy's legs weakened and a jolt went through her midsection.
It was like being struck by lighting. Oh god. The sensations
were... Oh god. Lust and need and fear and hate and pain and
desire and despair and hope and death and life, all swirling around together
inside her. Too much. She couldn't cope with this much emotion,
Spike must have felt her sudden tension, because he stilled, the tip
of his tongue still lingering on her skin. He looked up, his eyes
meeting hers -- and Buffy found herself drowning in them, falling forward
into a place that was somehow dark and frightening...yet safe.
She must have made a faint sound because Spike abruptly dropped her
hand like a hot coal, backing away several steps, no longer meeting her
"Damn. I...ah... Sorry."
Tension was written in every line of his body, as if he were holding
himself together only by sheer force of will. 'I know the feeling,'
Buffy thought desperately, trying to will away the maelstrom swirling inside
her. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.
After all, what was there to say? Mechanically she bent and retrieved
"Hey, no big. Thanks for getting the splinter out. And helping
me kill the bad guys. See you tomorrow." There was a note of
false brightness in her voice and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
"Will I?" There was a note in Spike's voice that made Buffy tense.
"Sure," she said. "Well, no, not tomorrow. Halloween, remember?
And I promised Giles I'd help out at the store."
Abruptly the Slayer turned and walked away, moving blindly through the
trees. "Bye, Spike."
And then she was running, running from him, from the memories, from
herself. Running away.
Spike stood motionless, watching her disappear into the night.
Then he took a deep breath, fighting down the seething emotions, the tang
of her blood still lingering on his tongue.
"Fine," he said bitterly. "Go on, run." It didn't matter.
Oh, who was he trying to kid? Of course it mattered and he was
a bloody idiot for even trying to think differently. With a sigh
that was part groan, the vampire abruptly turned and walked away in the
other direction, bending his head a little against the cold October wind.
And so he didn't see the Slayer pause in her headlong flight, didn't
see her look back at him for just an instant.
And then she too was gone.