Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction ❯ S W I T CH. ❯ A Blast from the Past. ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

As soon as Spike left her room, Dawn slammed the door closed and the towel slipped from her fingers. Eyes wide, heart racing, and still in disbelief, she quickly dashed to her closet and began to fish through her drawers for some sort of underwear. Spike had seen her naked! Well...almost naked. Naked enough! He hadn't said anything, and she wasn't sure if she should read too deeply into his last comment—Spike after all was probably just playing. But the way his voice had wrapped around the words, and how his blue eyes had swept her body in the first moments of her entrance, were enough to make her sink to her knees and scream a muffled cry of excitement into a pair of pants.
Not only had he so obviously checked her out, but they were going to hunt some vampires tonight!
It didn't puzzle her now that she felt nothing but excitement, instead of the apprehension she would have felt weeks earlier. She was confident in her abilities now, as was everyone else, and she knew Spike wouldn't let any harm come to her. Hastily pulling on a bra and panties, she grabbed the nearest pair of shorts she could find, and a sweater she'd already worn once or twice. Pulling her hair up into a messy bun, she quickly checked herself in the mirror. Flushed, but awake and alert. She hid a cheeky grin from her reflection, before snatching up a pair of socks and heading for the door.
The voices grew silent as she hopped down the stairs, doing her best not to look absolutely pleased with herself. She bit the inside of her lip when Spike looked from Giles to her, and his eyes roamed up her legs, torso, chest, to meet her gaze. They stayed like that, locked in a stare, for a moment, before Xander cut in.
"So remember, go for the heart," he began dramatically, pulling her down to the landing, "don't let them get behind you, 'cuz they'll cheat and go for the back of the throat."
Spike rolled his eyes, but remained silent as Giles thought to offer his own input.
"Quite," he spoke, in dry reference to Xander, "just remember that if you see any vampires out in the cemetery, it doesn't always mean they're freshly sired and not aware of their capabilities."
"Okay, okay," Dawn responded, lifting her hands to ward off more oncoming comments. "I'll be fine, I'm with Spike, remember?"
"Oh yes," Giles responded bitterly, casting a glance to the vampire, "we're all quite aware of that. I'd ask that you not remind me of it."
"Sod off, old man," Spike ground out, pushing past Xander. "She's damn well capable of holding her own, I'm there just to make sure she doesn't get ahead of herself. Would you rather the Niblet go alone, then?"
Dawn watched Giles' expression grow tight at the suggestion, and she wiggled passed Xander to get closer to the vampire, who in turn draped an arm around her shoulders almost possessively. Her heart fluttered, and she bit her lip, before looking back up to Giles'. His eyebrows were arched, eyes sharp, and jaw firm. He did not seem amused, but instead of arguing, he took a sip from his mug, and turned away.
"Have at it, then," he began, "but you better bring her back in one piece."
And with that, they were off into the cool Californian night.
"Is it weird?"
"Is what weird, pet?"
"Being out here, like this," Dawn motioned to the graves surrounding them, "without Buffy?"
Spike shrugged, pondered his response, as they took a leisurely pace down the cemetery paths. They'd been roaming for about half an hour now, in silence, and he was wondering when she was going to start talking. Her question surprised him though, and blinking, he answered, "Not really. I walk round here by myself plenty of times."
"Okay, well, what about with me then?" she challenged, "I mean, you're out here, looking for vampires to kill. With me, instead of Buffy."
"What is your fixation on this?" Spike laughed, "Bit, if you're worried, don't be, you're going to be just fine. In fact, it can even be a little fun, if you're in the mood for something rough."
Dawn nodded, sighed, and fell silent.
Of course, Spike knew by now that wasn't the answer she wanted.
It wasn't even the context in which she'd meant it. But she didn't need to know that he was well aware.
He had the advantage over this entire situation. It was his responsibility to play it out like an adult.
Which was funny, because he was anything from mature. But something like this needed to be taken seriously.
"So," Dawn asked, turning around again, "what would you say if I—"
Her words were cut off as a dark shadow slid from one of the many dead trees littering the perimeter, and knocked her down. She let out a surprised yell, and Spike's nerves were instantly on fire. He fell into his game face, and jumped several headstones to get to where Dawn had been pulled off balance. A hefty vampire sat on her, clawing at her face. She managed to knock him backwards and scramble away, slender fingers scrabbling for her dropped stake. Spike snarled, before pulling the creature up by his coat. Turning him around, his fingers closed around the windpipe. Gleaming yellow orbs locked into a stare, and the vampire in his grip let out a surprised, muffled gargle.
"She's not the Slayer," he hissed, before a choked laugh escaped. He parted his lips to speak more, before his eyes widened and he squirmed. Within seconds he exploded in a cloud of ash, and Dawn stepped back, withdrawing the stake from where the vampire had been seconds earlier. Her eyes were dark, and she had an expression Spike had never seen before.
"Are you alright, love?" he asked, stepping closer. She lifted her eyes, and he stopped dead in his advance. Her jaw was set, and she seemed wary. He remembered that look instantly; it was similar to the one she'd given him the first day of the switch. Her instincts were taking over, and she recognized him as a vampire.
"I'm fine," she breathed, her eyes scanning their surroundings, "are there any more of them?"
Tilting his head, the peroxide blonde listened, straining through the silence and what would appear to be the normalcy of night, to catch even a trace of supernatural activity. He hadn't been paying attention because he was so focused on Dawn, and the way her lips had pursed when she began to speak again. Shaking himself, he roused his thoughts from the girls peculiarly alluring physical attributes and habits, to focus more on the task they'd committed themselves to.
"Nothing," Spike began, turning back to Dawn, who seemed to be listening as well, "but then again, we vamps are sneaky buggers. If we don't want to be heard, we won't be."
Side-stepping the cloud of dust at her feet, Dawn curled her top more securely around herself as a chilly breeze swept through the area. He could tell from her posture she was tense, and her expression was noticeably worried.
"He knew I wasn't Buffy," she stated, simply, before turning her head to meet his gaze. "he knew."
"Well, your sisters made sort of a name for herself here, love," Spike explained, with a grin, "not too many people don't know who she is; I wouldn't be surprised."
"Yeah, but what happens if they find that out and they get away?"
A long pause.
"I won't let them."
She didn't seem very comforted by the thought, and he frowned as she said nothing in response and continued walking back down the pathway, towards the gates.
He just didn't get it.
It infuriated her. Almost to the point where she could have stomped her foot and thrown a tantrum.
He followed her in intrigued silence, no doubt wondering what she was thinking. They'd just arrived. But truth be told, even though she had been excited, the vampire had scared her. She hadn't been paying attention, and if Spike hadn't been there, she wasn't sure if it would have ended in the way it did. She kept that tidbit to herself though, and manoeuvred over some dead tree roots, fingers curled tightly around her weapon.
Round eyes scanning the depths of shadow around her, she sighed heavily.
"Well, look who's here."
Dawn's movement was cut short as a strong hand reached out and closed around her shoulder. She froze as Spike stepped up beside her, his posture tense, and jaw set. Glancing wildly around them, it took her a moment to regain her composure, before the deep, gravelly voice spoke again.
"It's been a long time, William, hasn't it?"
"William?" Dawn asked, turning to the Spike, "that's your name, isn't it?"
From out of the shadows, a figure stepped suddenly, and Dawn felt foolish for not having seen it their before. Her heart skipped a beat when the pale light from the moon washed down on the form now exposed, and she swallowed thickly. Before them was a young man; no older than 25 or 26. He was tall and lanky, a similar build to Spike's, but he was more relaxed at the moment. A shock of dark hair fell around his face in unkempt disarray, and icey blue eyes focused on the pair as lips twitched, curling up into what Dawn wanted to call a malicious smile.
"Not long enough, if you ask me," Spike scoffed, his grip on Dawn's shoulder tightening, "what brings you to good ol' Sunny Dale?"
"Nothing much," the man shrugged, his gaze lingering over Spike's features, before dropping to Dawn. She felt a flush rise in her throat, and hoped that neither of them would be able to see her blush. "just a rumour."
"A rumour," Spike nodded, sounding interested. He pulled Dawn closer to him, arm around her shoulder. His posture slipped and he slouched almost, leaning against the girl casually as if that's what she was made for. "and what's that, then? Must've been a damn good one, to get your ass out of England."
"That the Slayer's lost her powers."
Dawn swallowed.
"Where the hell did you here rubbish like that?" Spike scoffed, "I mean, c'mon James, you were never the gullible sort. I've always reasoned you were an intelligent bloke; head on your shoulders n'all that."
"Rubbish, is it? Then tell me, why is it the Witches from the Salve are my informants? Or better yet, why are they in such an outrage over the mysterious disappearance of the Mirror Talisman?"
"You knew about that?" Dawn asked. Spike's stiffening response, and the smile that slid onto James' face as she questioned, only made her stomach drop with dread.
"Of course," James responded coolly, stepping closer, "I know a lot of things, little girl. You'd be surprised."
"Well it's bollocks, the lot of it," Spike snapped, clearly irritated now, "so you can prance on back to England, and tell your informants, Salve or no Salve, to bugger off."
"I'm afraid it's not that easy, William. See, you told me a long time ago that you'd come here to finish some business. But after breaking away from Angelus you've done nothing but piss around. I'm disappointed to admit, but even my eyes have taken in the change. You're different now. Pathetic."
"Hey," Dawn growled, stepping away from Spike, "you don't even know him. What gives you the right to say something like that?"
Within seconds, Dawn's chin was in the grip of smooth, cold and strong fingers. Head tilted back, her eyes widened as she stared into the face of this man. His eyes were like mirrors, and she could see herself in their reflection. Heart beating rapidly now, she swallowed again, and James cocked his head. Spike was stiff beside them, and the other lifted his eyes to cast him a questioning glance.
"She is the chosen one?"
"Damn rights," Spike retorted, "so none of that garbage about the Slayer losing her powers is true, understand? Now get your hands off the Bit or I'll tear them off myself."
James obliged, but the smile that remained on his face was amused.
"She's quite young," he remarked, "looks a little...fragile."
"I'm not fragile," Dawn snapped, furious now. Their proximity forgotten, she stepped forward and shoved the man in the shoulders. He took a surprised step backwards, before laughing.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a stake through your heart right now," she continued, secretly damning the soft lilt of her voice.
"She's got a fire in her," James commented, smile widening. "I like it. But prey tell, little girl, how do you know a stake will kill me? I've said nothing about being a vampire."
"You're cold," Dawn answered, "and you move like Spike does. Not to mention you're freakishly pale, and you look dead."
A deep chuckle filled the graveyard, before James eyes sparkled. He stepped back from the pair, head inclined, before lifting his eyes to Spikes'.
"She's cute," he directed to him, "but how long can you keep her alive?"
And with that, he'd slipped back into the shadows, and to her eyes, was gone.
A moment of silence was shared between the two before Dawn spun round on her heel, wide-eyed, to fix her gaze on Spike. His eyes were trained on the spot they'd last seen the other vampire, and his jaw was firm, hands clenched to his sides.
"Who was that?" she asked incredulously.
"Nobody, Bit. We should get back."
"Nobody?" Dawn repeated, "What do you mean nobody? He sure seemed to know a lot about you."
"He was a friend," Spike responded dryly, "If you'd call it that. A long, long time ago."
"How long?"
"Give or take a hundred years," was his casual response, "back when I'd first been sired, I wasn't exactly right in the head, you know. Angelus wasn't a very good role model for sanity, and I'd found him after breaking off from the group."
"Weren't you with Drusilla, though?" Dawn questioned.
"No, Dru stayed with Angelus," Spike answered, "she came to find me about thirty years after, said he'd driven her mad. James was with me when I killed my first Slayer," he continued, "and knew about the second. And the reason why I came here, in the first place."
Realization crept upon her, and Dawn was afraid to ask her next question. Spike answered for her.
"It's not like it's a secret, that my first intentions were to kill your sister. It's not really a surprise, that he'd find out about this either. He's always kept tabs on me, even once we'd separated. I didn't mind so much back then, but now it's gettin' on my nerves, a bit."
"Because you're not all evil and Slayer-killing?"
"That," Spike responded with a nod, stepping up beside her. Arm curling around her shoulder, he glanced around cautiously, before leading her out of the cemetery, "and the fact that he still is."
"He didn't seem so bad," Dawn quipped, "I mean, he looked like every other vampire. And if he was going to do something, don't you think he would have tried it tonight?"
"No, Pet, he's not like that," Spike answered, grimly, "he's smart. He'd wait until you're alone. I can't be with you all of the time."
"I can handle myself," she huffed, crossing her arms. She tried to act as if his arm around her wasn't making her dizzy. "I'm the Slayer, remember?"
"Slayer or not, you're not your sister. You've just come into these powers."
He lifted a finger, when Dawn was getting ready to shoot an angry word or two his direction at the reference to her sister.
"Your sister has been the Slayer since she was what, sixteen? That's the same age as you now. She's had a lot more experience, plus a Watcher to guide her along the way."
"Well I have you," Dawn answered, simply, "And that's better than Giles."
"It's kind of ironic," Spike scoffed, running his hand over his face, "now that I think of it. But that's not the point, love. To be honest I'd managed to forget about that bastard. We need to tell your sister, and the others, so you'll be better protected. I've got a feeling he won't be buggering off any time soon."
"Why don't I just hunt him down and kill him?" she yelled, pulling away from Spike. Her grin set his surprise at ease, and his smile lifted his lips. Gently nudging her along the curb, she swayed back and latched onto his arm.
"Remember what happened the last time we went into something without a plan, Dawny? Someone got a nasty little nip in their neck. If I recall."
"I'm better now," Dawn insisted, tugging at the leather of his jacket, "I mean, with skill and stuff. Faster."
"He's lived a lot longer than I have, and I'll be damned if he somehow manages to get his hands on you. Not only would your sister kill me, but I couldn't bloody live with something like that, pet. So promise me you won't do anything stupid and impulsive." A pause. "And I know you're at that age, where thinking before you actually do something is hard, but try and be good. For me, if nobody else."
The seriousness with which he spoke sobered Dawn a little, and she nodded in silence. Her fingers tightening on the material of his jacket, she exhaled, before a soft shiver consumed her small frame. Throwing a look over her shoulder, she frowned. Spike tugged her along, muttered a, "let's keep moving," and she turned back to watch where she was going.
She felt safe now, non threatened.
But for some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling something was watching her.
Glassy eyes followed the pair as they left the cemetery. He was subtle in his pursuit, the reason for following them now, more out of curiosity than anything else. He had plans for the pair, he knew that much, but it was neither the right place nor time to set anything in motion.
To be quite honest, James was still trying to get over the shock of seeing Spike, a face he hadn't seen well in over twenty years, a face so familiar, yet so different to him now. Sharp, angular cheek bones, lips that would often curve up into a sinfully evil smirk, and the way his blue eyes would flash dangerously before his features would morph, and he'd go in for the kill. His lips had curved back in hostility, tonight, and his blue eyes had flashed dangerously indeed. But not murderously so; no, his lethal glare had been out of a protectiveness directed towards the young girl who'd stood by his side.
And what a charming little piece she was.
The Slayer indeed, he could feel it. But something was off.
Not quite right.
He had been suspicious already upon his arrival to Sunny Dale, and what had taken place in the cemetery had only piqued his interest in the matter further, as well as given him a sense of doubt as to the actuality of the situation. James had never slain a Slayer himself, and he could admit with little difficulty, he was jealous towards Spike's achievements. When he'd caught wind from the Witches that the Slayer had lost her powers, he'd thought little of booking a flight and coming to this city, in hopes of finding the Spike he once knew. He had heard rumours about him as well, but the memories of their time together were still so vivid in his memory he had written off the claims of his "human-loving", and how he had sided with the Slayer. It had to be some sort of scheme, to get close and go in for the kill. He'd always been one for mind games like that.
But he had seen nothing but sincerity in his protectiveness towards the young girl, and that in itself attracted him to her. It did little to help that she looked simply edible; her long, thick hair. Skin fair, almost as white as his own, and those large, round, innocent grey eyes that belied a ferocity she kept within her he knew she had. He'd seen it when he'd insulted Spike. It vexed him. Were they lovers? They seemed close enough to be; and Spike's hostility towards James when he'd moved closer to the girl had almost caused him to step back.
Very interesting, indeed.
Spike's romances aside, James had come here not just to validate the truth of these rumours,
but to set them straight were they to be proved false. And they appeared to be nothing more then an idle story tossed around the grapevine. Who wouldn't want the Slayer gone? And to James, this only meant one thing. A slow, lazy smile claimed dominance over his handsome features. That alluring, deceptively innocent Slayer of his, was going to die.