#spikexreader

You tug your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to ignore him. "It’s called being human, Spike. You should try it sometime."

"Why would I want to?" he retorts, flashing a teasing smirk. "All that pesky breathing, eating, and freezing your arse off nonsense. No thanks."

You shove your hands deeper into your pockets, exhaling a puff of frosty breath. "You’ve got to get some new material, Spike."

"Why? This works just fine," he quips, his voice dropping into a playful murmur. "You always bite when I pull your tail."

You ignore him—or at least you try to—but it’s hard when his gaze lingers on you, sharp and assessing, like he’s trying to see past the surface. Since Buffy left for Italy, Spike’s been different. Still sarcastic, still sharp-tongued, but there’s a new softness in him, like he’s figuring out how to move on from her. And then there’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice...

A rustling sound pulls you from your thoughts, your body tensing as you grip your stake. Spike’s demeanor changes instantly, the teasing gone as his predatory instincts take over. A moment later, two fledgling vampires lurch out of the shadows, their movements erratic and feral.

"Finally," Spike mutters, cracking his knuckles. "I was getting bored."

The fight is quick but intense. You duck as one of the fledglings lunges for you, its claws slicing through the air where your face had been. Spinning on your heel, you drive your stake into its chest, and it crumbles to dust before it can even cry out. Spike, meanwhile, dispatches the other with his usual flair, staking it with a bored expression as though he’s done it a thousand times—which, of course, he has.

When the dust settles, you’re out of breath, your chest rising and falling in sharp bursts that fog the cold air. Spike leans casually against a tombstone, twirling his stake like it’s a toy, completely unruffled.

"You alright, love?" he asks, his smirk returning. "Not too winded, I hope. Wouldn’t want my dragon passing out on me."

"Would you stop calling me that?" you huff, brushing dirt from your jeans.

"Why? It suits you," he teases, stepping closer. "Fierce, fiery, and entirely too much fun to rile up."

"Keep it up, Spike, and I’ll show you fiery temper."

He raises a scarred eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more playful. "Promise?"

Your cheeks heat—not from anger but from the way he says it, low and flirtatious, the words curling through the space between you. You hate how easily he gets under your skin. Or maybe you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to.

"Come on," he says suddenly, nodding toward his crypt. "You’re freezing your scales off out here. Let’s get warm."

✦ ✦ ✦

Spike’s crypt is warmer than you expected, though that’s likely due to the small space heater humming in the corner. The air smells faintly of leather and whiskey, and the flickering candles scattered around give it a surprisingly cozy atmosphere.

"You’ve upgraded," you remark, eyeing the threadbare but inviting couch as you settle onto it.

He shrugs out of his duster and tosses it over a nearby chair. "Figured I’d make the place a bit more hospitable. Not that I get many visitors these days."

"Well, consider me honored," you quip, though there’s a weight to his words that lingers. Since Buffy left, Spike’s world has grown smaller, quieter. You suspect he’s still figuring out how to fill the void she left behind.

He grabs a bottle of whiskey from a nearby table and takes a swig before holding it out to you.

"Here," he says. "Warm you up."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting. The first sip burns, but it spreads warmth through your chest, chasing away the chill of the night. Spike sits down beside you, closer than he needs to, and you’re hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you.

"So," he says, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "What’s it like, being one of the Chosen?"

"It’s... a lot," you admit, staring into the amber liquid in your hand. "Buffy made it look easy, but it’s not. Sometimes it feels like I’m just trying not to screw up."

"Buffy was good," he says, his voice softer now. "But she had her share of screw-ups too. Don’t sell yourself short, love. You’ve got fire. You’ll figure it out."

The mention of Buffy hangs in the air for a moment, a ghost neither of you can ignore. You glance at him, trying to read his expression, but it’s unreadable.

"Do you miss her?" you ask quietly, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is low, almost a whisper. "Used to think I’d never stop missing her. Thought she was it for me, you know? But... things change."

His eyes meet yours, and there’s something raw and honest in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And now?" you ask, barely more than a whisper.

"Now..." He trails off, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Now I think I might be moving on."

The air between you crackles with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the patrols, the vampires, even Buffy. It’s just you and Spike, the space between you shrinking by the second.

"You’re not as much of a pain as you think, you know," you say softly, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

"Careful, love," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. "Say things like that, and I might start thinking you like me."

"Maybe I do," you admit, your cheeks heating despite the cold.

For once, Spike doesn’t have a snarky reply. Instead, he leans in, his hand brushing against yours. His gaze drops to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath.

But before he can close the distance, a loud crash outside shatters the moment.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, standing and grabbing his stake. "Can’t a bloke get a moment’s peace?"

You laugh despite yourself, standing and pulling your jacket tighter. "Come on, dragon," he says with a wink, holding the door open for you. "Duty calls."

A man smirks at me with a raised brow, his hair white as snow. “What’s your name, Pet?” He moves in closer, his leather coat blowing in the night’s breeze.

“Y/N,” I answer softly, not out of fear, but curiosity.

“Y/N,” he repeats and makes it sound angelic. “What are you doing here all alone at this time of night?” The stranger asks, circling me smoothly like a snake.

“I was... ” I pause, the answer not exactly pleasant. “I was making a visit,” I finally state, meeting his gaze.

“Oh.” He stops in front of me. His mysterious facade wavering as he rocks on heels awkwardly. “I’m uh I’m sorry for loss.”

I shrug, “it’s okay, it was a long time ago. Oh! Thank you, by the way,” I add nervously at the end, having forgotten the courtesy. Narrowing my eyes, I remember an important point. “What are you doing here exactly?”

He raises his brows, eyes-wide as if we just got caught. “I was... I was just... I was on a walk,” he stammers, pointing over to the paved path behind him.

“You walk alone in cemeteries... in the middle of the night?” I ask to clarify, not convinced by his word.

“Doesn’t everyone?” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“Those who are up to no good,” I claim calmly.

The gentleman tilts his head to the side with a pleasing snicker, “and is that what you think I’m up to?”

“Perhaps,” I answer, not afraid of him.

“You could be right. Does that frighten you?” He smirks mischievously, biting down on his lips.

“Not necessarily,” I confess, much to his surprise.

“You scare easily do you?” His smile grows as he steps closer.

I shake my head, “no.”

After all the death I’ve experienced thus far in my life, very little scares me anymore. Most people are afraid of death, I’m afraid of living. I’m afraid of what other tragedies will come, perhaps death would be less painless.

“Do you have a death wish?” He inquires, not sound rhetoric.

“Most days,” I admit rather darkly.

He snickers, “I appreciate your honesty, it’s... refreshing.”

“Are you who I saw before?” I gesture over to the crypt a few yards away. “ Isaw someone that crypt, but when I looked again they were gone. I thought I was imagining things.”

“Perhaps...” he repeats my previous answer, his tone eerie.

“Have you been following me?” I question, starting to piece everything together.

“Most days...” he mimicked again with a smirk.

“Most days?” I repeat, growing uneasy as the man stares into my eyes wickedly.

“But that’s not what you really want to ask though is it?” He predicts correctly. Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear, “ask what you really want to know.”

He towers over me again, a smirk of pleasure across his lips. I should be afraid, stranger-danger and what not. Yet, I can’t find the means to be frightened. He doesn’t appear threatening. In fact, if anything, he’s alluring. The man awaits my question.

“We’ve met before haven’t we?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” he grins, starting to circle me again.

“We met at The Bronze,” I recall, remember the occurrence perfectly. “You were watching me from the balcony.”

“Yes,” he whispers in my ear as he stands behind me. I can feel his warm breath against my neck as well as his chest against my back.

My breathing shaky and I fear my voice will break. “Have you been following me since then?”

“Yes,” he whispers in the other ear.

Slowly, he gathers strands of my hair, moving them back over my shoulder and out of the way. A chill forms across my skin at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against my neck.

I swallow hard, “why?”

“You know why,” he mumbles, pressing against my shoulder for me to turn around. I meet his emerald eyes directly without fear. “You figured that out the moment you saw me just now,” he claims. “Better yet, you knew when you saw earlier on your way to pay your respects.”

Tilting my head to the side, I come to realize he’s right. I do know why. I suppose I’ve been pushing the signs aside because logically it never made sense. I never knew it to be possible.

“You’re a vampire...” I mutter, it sounds more like an accusation.

“Bingo,” he drags out softly under his breath, followed by an evil snicker.

I frown, “that doesn’t explain why you’re following me.”

“Sure it does,” he argues, visibly waiting for me to come to the right conclusion.

I do so quickly, “you’ve been hunting me, waiting for the most opportune moment to kill me.”

He sways his head from side to side, “well yes, but there’s more.”

“Such as?” I lead him along.

More? What more is there for his kind? Logically, I should’ve run off ages ago. Then again, could I really outrun a vampire? Fight off a vampire? Probably not, so I might as well save my breath and earn some answers.

“I do want to kill you,” he purrs, reaching out to cup my face. His thumb runs across my cheek. “But not in the way you’re thinking. I want to bite you and bring you back to be like me.” His eyes fall to my mouth, then flicker back up to my eyes as he glides his tongue across his lips.

My heart pounds in my chest rapidly. “Why?”

“Because I want you, Love... forever,” he confesses smoothly, so much so that I would’ve missed it if I weren’t hanging on his every word. He awaits my response patiently, crossing his arms over his chest slowly. How could someone ever deny him? He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

As I stroll down the bitter cold hospital hall, I grip the leather straps of my backpack nervously. 

“Hi Buffy,” I rehearse under my breath. “You probably don’t recognize me, I’m Y/N… your cousin. It’s great to see you- God I sound so stupid!” 

I follow the signs on the wall toward the Neurology unit. Hospitals, cemeteries, funeral homes, old buildings, all great places to bump into ghosts. The things I do for family, boy do these guys owe me. 

As I turn down yet another peach colored hall- geez this place is dated- my eyes land on a familiar blonde in the waiting room at the far end. Oh great, here we go. Buffy doesn’t notice me right away, being too occupied with doting on a sleeping Dawn resting her head on her lap. I take note of the blondie boy sat beside her. I’m guessing he’s with Buffy. Good for her, a strong seven out of ten. I would rate him higher, but he’s not my type, too All-American boy-next-door. 

“Looks like I’m right on time,” I determine once I’m closer, thus making my presence known. Buffy peers up at me and her eyes widen steadily. Blondie next her looks between me and Buffy. Her surprised reaction makes him tense, I nearly assure him I’m not a threat. 

“Y/N?” She gentle shakes Dawn to wake her as she rises from her seated position. “What are you doing here?” 

“I heard about your mom… ” I explain vaguely. In truth, I saw it in a vision and a lot more beyond that, but I’ll just say my mom told me for now. 

Buffy makes long strides and warmingly embraces me. I can sense the desperation in her touch. Her ora is all out of wack. I could see the mess her colors are from yards away. It seems like I did really arrive at the perfect time. Buffy needs me now more than ever. 

“Y/N!” Dawn gasps behind us. 

Buffy and I part, her eyes stare into mine pleadingly. Yeah, we really need to have a chat. Preferably somewhere we can be frank, truly frank, no bullshit like I’m spilling right now. 

“Oh my God!” Dawn squeals, rushing down to greet me.  She squeezes me like a stress ball as she rambles on about how much she’s missed me. Then, Dawn starts to ask the tough questions as usually does. The girl has never quite had a filter. “Where have you been?”

“New York mainly,” I laugh. 

“How come you’ve never come to see us before?” She rushes out as Buffy continues to stare at me in awe. It could be she thinks she’s dreaming this. 

“Dawn, I-” 

She cuts me off, “how’s aunt Lolly? Are you college? When did you get in?”

“Dawnie!” I laugh, “I will answer all your questions, promise. We’ll catch up! For now,” I look at Buffy. “I need to have a chat with your sister…” 

The girl scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Of course, you’re for Buffy… everyone is always here for her. No ever visit me,” she grumbles. 

“I’m here for you too,” I assure Dawn. “I just… it’s important I speak with Buffy right now. It’s about something-” 

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Blondie interrupts, his face covered with confusion. 

“I’m Y/N,” I introduce myself. “I’m Buffy and Dawn’s cousin.” 

“I’m Riley, the boyfriend,” he offers me his hand. 

Wow, quite the introduction. I’m not much of a contact-person, but this seems like the perfect opportunity to gather information on G.I. Joe. As I shake his hand, I’m able to visualize memories and emotions from him. They come as flashes before my eyes. I hear his thoughts, see through his eyes, and feel what he’s felt. All I see Buffy, moments they’ve had. At first, pleasure and immense happiness consumes my head. Then, it’s replaced with doubt and self-deprecation. The obsession with Buffy is replaced with desperate longing. He feels her slipping. 

My visual is cut-off when Riley removes his hand. I’m brought back to current moment, surrounded by chaos of the hospital. 

Dawn frowns, curiosity etched across her features. “What’s so important that you had to come all the way? Does it have to do with Mom?”

“You came all the way from New York?” A male voice questions behind me. 

What is this an interrogation? The sooner someone tells me where Buffy is the sooner I can head back home. Believe me, I don’t want to be here longer than I have to be. I glance over my shoulder, Willow and Xander stare at me in confusion. We’ve never met, but I know of them, the visions. I’ve been keeping tabs on Buffy and the family since… well… since Buffy became the Slayer. 

“Yes,” I answer Xander directly. Turning back to Buffy, I not so discretely tell her it’s urgent. “Please, Buff, do you have minute? I know this isn’t exactly opportune but-” 

“Of course,” she swallows hard. “We can uh… we can talk outside. There’s a courtyard just over there,” she gestures down the hall. 

“I’m coming with,” Riley declares next to her. 

“I’m sorry, is your name Buffy?” I sass, much to his frustration. “What am I going to do her? She’s my cousin. I’m only borrowing her for a second, then you can toss the leash back on her.” 

“Y/N…” Buffy mutters for me to stop. 

Riley narrows his eyes at me- oof, I’m real scared now! While I giggle at her boyfriend’s expense as the two of us start down the hall. I’ve missed Buffy, we used to be like two peas in-a-pod. Once all this drama I’ve seen in her future is over, perhaps we can be close again. I refuse to settle in Sunnydale though. At least we have phones and email. 

Once outside, and we’re certain we’re alone, Buffy cuts to the chase. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, Y/N, I am but, why are you here?” She hasn’t changed a bit.

I snicker, peering up at the sky as the sun it starting to set. Gosh, I hate the day. That sounds weird because what human hates daytime, but I do. I’m much more… in tune with myself when it’s night time. I thrive off the moonlight and stars. The sun and its rays are hot, too hot. I like the cold and darkness of night. 

“Fine, let’s get right to it,” I smirk at my cousin wickedly. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my pack of cigarettes, feeling a bit anxious. “You mind?” I ask her, not really caring but figure I should check. 

Timidly, she shakes her head. Her arms are securely crossed in front of her as she watches me take a smoke. “Those things will kill you,” she advices the cookie-cutter phrase. 

“So can a car accident, yet we still drive,” I remark with sass. “What’s life without a little risk?” I wink. 

Buffy shifts on her feet as her jaw clenches. Her aura is shifting again, Black to red, I’ve never seen someone change on a dime so fast. That’s change is funny, she’s either angry or afraid of me, maybe both. I can’t blame her, I’m not exactly a Care Bear. My black and red attire doesn’t scream comforting. 

“Then again, you would know all about death, right Cuz?” I suggest subtly. 

Her eyes lock with mine and I start to see the wheels turning her head. ‘Does she know? How could she?’ She’s likely thinking to herself. One touch and I could hear for certain what she’s thinking. 

“What are you talking about?” She mumbles, barely meeting my eye. 

I scoff, tossing my head back, why can’t this be easier? You know what, fine! Growing impatient, I hold my hand out, palm to the sky. “Light,” I verbalize and within seconds a bright orb floats above my palm. 

Buffy stares at my magic stunned. Yeah, I was sort of expecting that kind of reaction. 

“How… How…” She stutters. 

“If you’d like a mini bolt of lighting I can do that too,” I offer. “I kind of prefer them, far more powerful!” 

She doesn’t share in my excitement as she slowly steps closer still in awe. “You’re a witch?” 

“Yep!” I smile, rather proud. “Have been for a while now, gotten pretty good at it too, not to brag or anything…” 

“So…” Buffy continues to process everything. “You know about demons, vampires-” 

I hum, “all of it. Including that you’re the Slayer, congrats by the way! Fun shit,” I compliment with a snicker. 

“Not exactly how I’d describe it,” she mutters defeatedly, her eyes still on the orb. 

Closing my fist, the orb disappears and I place my hand on Buffy’s shoulder. Her eyes meet mine solemnly. 

“How long have you known?” She asks unfazed. 

“Since forever,” I answer truthfully. “Sorry I never called or have come to help. I’ve sort of been cheering for ya from the sidelines. In all honesty, I’ve been away perfecting my magic with a coven. I’ve met some pretty interesting people along the way, all dazzled when they find out I’m related to the Slayer,” I gush. 

She pays no mind to my compliments, still in a daze. “Does anyone know? Does your dad?” 

I shake my head and sternly tell her, “he can never know! He thinks I’ve been away at school in Boston. In truth, I’ve been in New York with a coven.” 

Buffy nods in understanding, though I know Joyce is aware of the supernatural world. My mom could never handle it. “Did you come all the way here to tell me that?” 

Okay, here’s the hard part, the real hard part! I finish my cigarette, pondering the last relaxing bit of it before tossing it to the ground. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” I begin. “There’s a this big nasty bitch I’ve seen in my visions- I see visions by the way-” I add in passing, having forgotten it. Then, I remember I can’t forget the ghosties bit. “Anyway, you’ve already bumped into her, Glory. Yeah, she’s a real charmer from what I can see. I’m here to help because based on my visions, she’s kicking your asses.” 

I leave out a crucial bit of information, a part of the visions I’m not sure I can share. One important thing about being a psychic is not changing fate. As much as I want to tell Buffy everything, I know I can’t, not if I don’t want to mess with the world. 

“So, you’re here to help us stop Glory?” She clarifies. 

“It gets real fucked at some points,” I tell her, hoping that doesn’t reveal too much. 

“And I take it you know about Dawn…” she insinuates. 

I nod my head slowly, “you mean that she’s The Key? Then yes, I do. She’s about as human as the Teletubbies, but of course I won’t mention that to her. Who all knows?” 

“As of right now, me and Giles. He’s my Watcher,” she explains. “Did you already know that?” She’s catches on quickly. 

“Kinda…” I answer hesitantly. “Sorry if that’s weird. I’ve tried not to pry with my visions. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know who Riley was! He mustn’t have been around the last time I checked in!” 

“When was the last time you… ya know… checked in?” She asks, unsure of how to phrase it. 

“Well, I’ve been away with the coven. I joined them right after high school, so I suppose it was when you started at UC Sunnydale. I know all about Willow and Xander, they seem nice from what I’ve seen. Angel, his in-and-out appearance in my visions was confusing for a while until I realized he was doing that in real life too,” I laugh.

“So you saw all of the Spike drama and my mom finding out about me too?” She asks. 

I frown, I saw Joyce learning about Buffy and that whole conversion, but I’ve never heard of a Spike. Based on my expression, Buffy predicts the answer. 

“Spike is the biggest pain in my ass,” she groans. “He and Angel used to be all vampy together. Then, Angel gained a soul and Spike got worse from what I’ve gathered. He’s killed two Slayers, so we’re not exactly friends. We met when he tried to kill me. He’ll show up and leave again, kinda like Angel but less helpful. Except now, he’s acting all infatuated with me and sticking around.” 

I snicker, “oof, so you have a psychotic vampire lusting after you? How did I miss this?!” 

Buffy rolls her eyes, “believe me, it’s not fun.”  

“Is he hot?” I inquire, always interested in a troubled bad-boy type. 

She stares at me with narrowed eyes of disapproval and scoffs, “oh my God… never ask me that again.” 

 “He must’ve showed up and gone between visions,” I determine. “I wasn’t able to check in much after you started at UC. Which reminds me, your roommate Kathy- not a fan of her,” I confess with a bit of humor. 

“Turned out to be a demon,” Buffy explains, much to my surprise. 

I gasp, “no way! Ugh, I saw you move-in, some interactions here and there, but that’s about it. I knew there was something up with her!” 

Buffy laughs, actually smiling for the first time since our reunion. It feels great having someone know I’m a witch who isn’t a witch themselves. Being away in New York with the coven was great and utterly freeing. They were the first people who I showed my true self to. Now, finally, someone I care about knows the real me. I have so much more to share with her! 

Buffy takes my hand gently, “I’m really glad you’re here. Lately… lately things have been more difficult than I could’ve ever imagined,” she confesses, swallowing back her tears and looks at the ground. “With Mom and protecting Dawn, I’m not sure I can do it all on my own. I mean, I have my friends, Giles, and Riley but…” she meets my gaze, tears puddling in her eyes. “I needed you, I just didn’t quite know it. I needed my other sister,” she weeps. 

Immediately, I pull Buffy into my chest and hug her tightly. I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve felt Buffy’s pain. I guess I was so caught up with the coven and I forgot to check on her, so I missed the signs. I’m here now, that’s all that matters. Now, I can help. Seeing Buffy so upset makes my blood boil. Anyone who fucks with my family gets knocked off this planet, which means Glory has another coming at her in the form of a powerful witch. 

__________________________

“I suppose not, but you prefer my compliance. Am I wrong?” I challenge. 

He glares at me while lighting his cigarette. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” He mumbles bitterly.

“And you’re a hard ass,” I fire back, unfazed. He stares at me with raised brows. “Oh I’m sorry, are you the only one who can name call?”

His eyes roll dramatically with a huff of annoyance. “I couldn’t pick a mute girl to be interested in.”

“I imagine she’d bore you,” I predict, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs, “you’re probably right.” Casually, he hops up onto one of the nearby headstones and sits down.

“Get used to saying that sentence frequently,” I snicker, moving to sit on the headstone across from his.

“So, you want to be vamped out?” He waves me along, growing impatient.

“Oh, so I do have a choice?” I tease, pretending to be surprised.

“Not if you keep talking,” he grumbles, taking a hit of his cigarette.

“I have family and friends I have to consider,” I state matter-of-factly.

It’s true, I have a mother, my siblings, friends from school, all of whom will wonder what happened to me. I can’t just let that go.

“They won’t be a thought once you’re mine,” he claims, smirking at me mischievously.

“Why the sudden interest?” I inquire, genuinely curious. I imagine he could have anyone in the world, why me? Why now?

“I lost someone,” he answers, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on tapping his cigarette against the tombstone. “My girl, Druscilla.”

“So I’m the rebound,” I clarify, nodding in understanding.

His head snaps up, meeting my eyes directly. Apparently, I’ve hit a trigger point. He hops down from his tombstone and rushes over to me. The man pries my legs apart and stands between them. He cups my face in his hands, making me stare into his emerald eyes. “You will be far more,” he assures me with such certainty in his voice I can’t help but believe it. “You will be my reason for existing.”

My chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as I process it all. The longer I stare into his marble-like eyes, the more convinced I become. How could I ever deny him? “Okay,” I finally grant him my answer.

An amazing glimmer appears across his features and he steps closer. “Okay, what?” He repeats as if he isn’t sure he heard me correctly.

I place my hands over his that caress my cheeks. “Make me like you, but under one condition.”

He rolls his eyes, “should’ve known this was coming,” he grumbles. “What is it?”

“Tell me your name,” I request simply.

“Spike,” he answers without hesitation.

“What’s your real name?” I clarify, almost certain that ‘Spike’ couldn’t be it. “And not just your first name either, I want to know the whole thing.”

He frowns, evidently growing frustrated with the subject. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does!” I argue.

“But why? It’s stupid,” he dismisses sharply, removing his hands from me, but remains between my legs.

“Because if we’re going to spend forever together I’d like to know your real fucking name so just say it!” I snap at him, earning a look of surprise.

Visibly, there’s a strong debate occurring in his mind. He sighs, shaking his head as he glances around the cemetery then back at me. “William, alright? My name is William Pratt, happy now?”

“Over the moon,” I joke with a giggle, reaching up and holding his cheek in my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he pretends to be hard and disinterested in the charm of it all, but I can tell by the way he subtly leaned into my touch that he truly longs for it.

____________________________________________

Becoming a vampire is by the far the most freeing experience of my life or should I say undead life? Either way, Spike has broken me free of all torments and has opened the gates to the world. There is nothing we can’t do together. The entire world belongs to us. All we have to do is reach out and take what we want. Each night, I wake up with a strong urge to destroy and devour. I’ve never felt more powerful and entrancing.

I’ve been a vampire for a few days now, but Spike has kept me confined to the crypt for safety reasons. He claims I’m fragile in the early days until I become used to my new status. To build my strength, he brings me humans to feed on and is teaching me how to defend myself. I’m still learning how to fight in case I ever run into the Slayer or her team of misfits. Her very existence is annoying, such an inconvenience. According to him, I’ve been adjusting rather well, better than usual actually. So, to celebrate my growing strength and swift adaptions, Spike is taking me to The Bronze tonight. It’ll be the first time I’ve been outside the crypt in a week! There’ll be so many people to feed on and every opportunity to terrorize, I’m so excited!

Spike grips my hand protectively as we travel through the crowd of the club. I rarely had enough time to visit this place when I was human. Taking care of my mom and siblings all while balancing school consumed most of my days.

“Oh great,” Spike grumbles, tossing his head back.

I grip his forearm and squeeze his hand worriedly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Slayer and her clan of party killers are over there,” he growls, his eyes directed sharply at a nearby table.

I purr, watching the table of oblivious teenagers hungrily. I spot the blonde Slayer as she chats with her friends naively happily. So, that’s the infamous Buffy Summers. Spike has described her to me frequently. Apparently, we go to the same high school, different grades. I never really branched out of my grade or friend group for that matter. Immersed in the idea of snapping the Slayer’s neck for myself, I move to approach her. Imagine what her friends would do if I killed her right here and now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spike repeats quietly in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist to stop me. “Not here, Love. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“But I thought you loved the dramatics, Darling,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on Buffy with a pout.

“I do, but we mustn’t yet.” He brushes my hair away from my neck slowly, planting a pattern of kisses on my neck. “Let’s go dance.”

I smile, spinning in his arms to face him. Spike takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We pass the table of goody-goodies and chatter ensues amongst them. I whip my head around and find the Slayer. Her eyes narrow at me, a confused expression across her features. I turn my attention back to Spike right as he stops in the middle of the dance floor. He brings his hands to my waist, pulling me in closer. I drape my arms over his shoulder loosely and meet his exquisite emerald eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

Seductively, Spike and I dance as though we’re alone in the building. I see no one else but him. He stares into my eyes so deeply that I can feel it in my soulless body. I would wreck the world for him. I would do anything if it brought him pleasure. Spike is now my purpose in this undead life. My purpose is to make him happy. If we were to ever be parted, I don’t think I’d survive it.

“Get away from her, Spike,” a voice interrupts us.

Our heads whip to our side in unison. The little blonde Slayer stands with her arms crossed. A serious expression plaguing her face. Aw, why the frown Buffy?

Spike snickers, tossing his head back mockingly. “Won’t even wait five minutes, will you?”

“Get out of here,” she commands sharply to him. Then, Buffy turns to me with softness in her eyes. She grips my forearm pleadingly, “he’s not who he says he is.”  

Oh, this is funny, she thinks I’m human. She assumes I’m an innocent defenseless victim. Okay, I could work with this. This may be the opportunity Spike and I was looking for, the perfect charade.

My eyes go wide and I step back from Spike anxiously, “what... what do you mean?” I move to stand beside Buffy.

Spike frowns at me as though I’ve lost my marbles.

The Slayer takes my hand, ready to pull me away, “he’s-”

“Must we cause such a scene?” Spike rips me away from Buffy, grabbing my wrist roughly. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go,” he instructs, wrapping an arm around my waist and escorting me to the door. I interlock my hands instead of leaning into him as I usually would keep up the act. Once we’re out of hearing range of the Slayer and her team, he whispers to me harshly. “What the bloody hell was that?”

I suppress a snicker, “you’re far too simple-minded sometimes, Baby. Buffy is going to follow us and I need you to just go with it.”

As he opens the door for me leading out into the alley, he glances at me in amazement. Finally, the pieces are coming together. “You’re trying to pull one on her.”

“Precisely,” I confirm with an evil grin.

Alone in the dimly lit alley, Spike squeezes my waist and tugs me into his chest. He bites down on my lip, peering down at me with a pleased smirk. “You are by far the most miraculous woman I’ve ever met.” Eagerly, he leans down and smashes his lips to mine. My fingers comb through the back of his hair and grip the edges in a fist. He growls against my lips and it only drives me crazier. Will, it ever subside, the wanting him?

The metal door to The Bronze squeezes and I instantly shove Spike off of me with a scream. He stumbles back, still in a daze from our kiss. “Help!” I scream, “someone helps me, please!” I pretend to be distraught and soon Buffy is by my side, ushering me behind her safely.

“I’m not going to let you take her!” She yells at Spike bitterly.

“Well that’s really up to her, isn’t it?” Spike mocks with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“She’s human, Spike! She doesn’t know what you are,” she argues, acting as the big-bad defender of man.

“What is he?” I squeak, sounding all poor pitiful. Honestly, it’s kind of annoying playing the victim. I sound like such a cry baby. Plus, if I were human, I definitely wouldn’t follow a strange man into an empty alley. I’d be asking to get murdered. No, I just talk to them in empty cemeteries in the middle of the night.

Buffy turns to me urgently, doing everything she can to keep me safe, how sweet. She grips both of my forearms, leading me away from spike. “Look, Spike isn’t a good guy, okay? He’ll hurt you or worse! You need to run!” She urges, gesturing down the alley to the road.

“But-” I stutter, glancing at Spike. Then, in one swift motion, I yank my arms free of Buffy’s hold and leg sweep her. She falls to the pavement with a smack. I tower over her with a giggle. “You know, grabbing people without their permission isn’t nice. Where are your manners?”

Spike jogs over and pulls me into his chest. I rest my arms over him around my waist and he places his chin on my shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Beautifully done, My Love.”

Buffy pants, staring up at us in confusion, “what the-”

“Surprise! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” I laugh wickedly, steadily approaching her like a snake going in for the kill.

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Masterlist 

"I'll get you through this," Spike states comfortingly at my side.

I look to him weakly. "I feel so... numb, is that terrible?"

"No, anything you feel right now is fine." He rubs his hand up and down my spine as he brings me into his side.

"Have you wanted to run away? I mean, we just did," I shrug. "I forced you to with me. I lost control, became so vile, and tried to drag you down with me," I face Spike, growing more and more guilt-ridden.

"Love, it wasn't you!" He cups my face. "You wouldn't have done any of that had you been normal."

"I was there. I could see everything. I could feel everything," I recall, starring down at the pavement between our feet. "Yet, I didn't care. It was like seeing the world in 2D."

"Well, we're home now. You can make things right," Spike plants a kiss on my forehead and lingers there.

"Will they even want to talk to me?" I mutter, afraid of what Buffy and the others might say.

I was so horrible to them and now this.

"I think they'll want family," he assures me.

Anxiously, I hardly make it to the porch. Spike has to lead the way. While squeezing his hand, I cling to his arm. Honestly, I hate being so nervous. I know what I'm capable of and I know Spike is right. I just can't shake the guilt for what I've done.

Spike knocks on the front door, something he's clearly not used to doing. Within a few seconds, someone answers the door and Buffy stands on the other side of the door.

"Miss me?" I say lightheartedly, though I don't feel that way.

Buffy switches her focus between Spike and me. "How did-"

"I saw her," I answer before she can finish.

"You saw Mom?!" She pulls me inside eagerly.

"Don't tell Dawnie. She's still kind of spooked by it," Spike warns her, keeping me close protectively.

"I haven't seen a ghost since... Let's just say I only see people close to me," I remark vaguely.

"Could you talk to her again?!" Buffy tugs at my sleeve.

"I can't control it Buffy, it sort of just happens," I explain, truly not wanting to face it again.

I would love to see Joyce and help in any way I can. The hard part is I don't have control over it. It's also frightening when a person you know to be deceased is standing in front of you. __________________________________________ After a day's worth of reunions, I'm exhausted. Dawnie was happy to see me. Everyone else was hesitant to trust me or be around me again which is entirely fair. Tara was the most afraid. She hid behind Willow timidly most of the time. I learned that Joyce died the afternoon I saw her. Buffy had found her, and hours later, she appeared to me. Buffy hadn't even had the chance to call Giles yet.

After Dawnie has gone to bed, we all gather in the living room to discuss the matter at hand. We have to figure out what to do about Joyce and making plans. Spike settles into the armchair and guides me down with him. I sit in his lap and curl up in a ball comfortably. Ever since we got back to Sunnydale, he hasn't left my side. He's practically glued to me. Whenever someone says something mildly sassy toward me, he snaps at them. I figured Spike could be protective, but this isn't what I would have envisioned. He's being clingy even, it's almost comical.

"Buffy, of course, has the final say," Xander states a matter-of-factly about funeral plans.

My cousin's eyes grow wide and she perks up from her rested position on the couch.

"What?! I don't know anything about this!" She stammers. "Y/N should have the final say. After all, she's dealt-" Buffy stops herself.

I snicker lightly, "I've seen the sort of planning that goes into a funeral, I get it."

She frowns, "I didn't mean-"

"I know. You're not wrong," I laugh a little with a shrug.

Spike wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest if that's even humanly possible. I melt into his embrace as I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Could you... do you think you could tell us a little more about how you saw Joyce?" Tara stutters beside Willow.

Spike starts to object, "I don't think-"

I place my hand over his, "it's okay... it was strange," I describe to the group. "It was though she was there. It was a full-body apparition. It must've required a lot of energy for her."

"How long until she can show herself to you again?" Buffy questions swiftly.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "It all depends."

"On what?" She rushes.

"I don't know," I repeat, a tad more impatient than I intended to sound.

At the end of the long day, Buffy offers me my old room to which I take gratefully. Spike decides to stay with me, just in case something were to happen, such as seeing Joyce again. The two of us curl up into a bed for the evening under the warm quilt. Spike brings me to his side and I rest my cheek on his chest.

"Love?" He breaks the comfortable silence.

"Yes?" I yawn.

"Do you remember when we were in New Orleans and you saw a vision in my eyes? You weren't you but-"

"I did?" I question, lifting my head to meet his gaze.

His eyes pour into mine as they glisten under the moonlight pouring in from the opposite windows.

"You said I was hurt or something at one point," he goes on with a hint of worry in his tone.

"I did? I don't remember that," I confess.

"It was the last thing you said before you said 'I'll find you," he describes as his fingertips glide up and down my spine.

"I wish I could remember," I swallow hard. "That frightens me."

Seeing a vision of Spike possibly hurt and not remembering it so more frustration than I can express.

"You also said, "I'll say it first," he adds. "It's probably nothing. You were tired anyway."

"I suppose we'll find out someday," I shrug, still a tad annoyed I can recall it.

"Remember, dammit!" He laughs, poking my sides. "I want to know!"

His attitude lightens the mood and naturally eases my mind.

"Me too, but it doesn't work that way!" I laugh, swatting his hands away from my sides as I wiggle.

Playfully, Spike rolls me onto my back as he hovers over me. I giggle as he continues to tickle my sides, and I squeal for help. Under the moonlight, he appears so angelic. His white hair shines and reflects the light. His blue eyes appear like sea glass. He’s been so remarkable these last few days. I’m seeing a comforting side to him that many have the chance to experience. What did I do to deserve him?

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Masterlist

“Y/N...”

A voice behind me, makes me leap up from my position. A figure appears from the shadows. A tall, broad-shouldered, brunette man with a rather crossed expression stands before. Oh looky here, he has a leather coat just like Spike. Does everyone have one?! Do I need one?

I tilt my head, a smirk rises on my lips. “And who might you be?”

“I’m a friend,” the handsome man states simply.

I hop down from the platform and approach him smoothly like a snake. I bite my lip, circling the gentleman steadily.

“A real friend? Or...” I drag out. “Are you the type of man that says he’s a friend, then hurts me?”

He raises a brow, following my motion with the turn of his head. “Spike as you tightly round, doesn’t he?”

I step quickly to meet his gaze, “you know Spike?”

“My name is Angel,” he states plainly. “I’ve known him for many years.”

“Angel...” I repeat, arching my head back to the sky. “Pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“Thank you.”

I giggle, my eyes falling shut. “Are you used to getting compliments? Do you just drown in them?” My face falls as my eyes flicker open. “I’ve dreamt of drowning. In a dark river on a stormy night. My car would go over a bridge. The water... it would be so cold, blood piercing,” I describe in a mutter as I recall the memory vividly.  

“Y/N, I’m here to help you,” Angel tells me.

I swiftly direct my focus to him. “Help me? In what way?”

“You’ll need to come with me,” he instructs vaguely.

“Come with you? Come to play?” I giggle like a child. “I love playing games! I love messing with people’s minds and making them all jumbled up,” I twirl my fingers around beside my temples.

Angel appears unfazed. He doesn’t even flinch. What a bore.

“Spike, he turned you right?” He questions instead, sticking to business. 

I hum, strolling about randomly. “That beautiful angel of darkness,” I whisper to myself as the image of Spike flashes across my mind. 

“Has he ever mentioned me?” Angel inquires.

“Is he supposed to?” I frown.

“Not per se,” he shrugs. “But I’m a large portion of his history.”

“Are you one of his lovers who left too?” I joke, laughing wickedly.

“No, I’m his grandsire,” he explains.

“Oh, is that right?” I skip to be in front of him again. I run my hand down his chest. “So you’re the really big-bad?”

Angel doesn’t react to my actions or my words. He’s constantly frowning, crossed about something. My goal is to break him. I love breaking people

“I like bad things, evil things. Evil things are far more interesting,” I whisper to him as my eyes fall to his lips. “Are you interesting sweet Angel?”

He grips my arms urgently, causing me to gasp. “This isn’t the real you, Y/N! You lost your soul! I can help you get it back!”

“And why would I want to do that? I have so much more fun now.” I snicker and graze my thumb across his lower lip gently.

“This isn’t the way. You’re hurting people, destroying lives!” He preaches, ignoring my flirtatious behavior.

My face falls, “Oh... oh my God!” Tears start to whelm up in my eyes, “you’re right! I... I...” I turn it off, “I don’t care.”

Angel growls, squeezing my arms, “listen to me-”

Abruptly, Angel has shoved away from me and he hits the ground a few yards away. Spike appears at my side, panting angrily. “Piss off Angel!”

His arm crosses in front of me protectively and he guides me to hide behind him. 

“Spike, you know this is wrong!” Angel yells, rising from the floor. “You can’t keep doing this to her!”

“I’m not doing anything to her. She made her choice,” Spike grumbles.

Angel storms up to Spike, his face filled with hatred. “She didn’t know what she was signing up for when you turned her! Now, she isn’t in the right mind to decide!”

“Are you calling me crazy? Okay, that’s fair,” I shrug, strolling away from the dramatic duo.

Spike gets into Angel’s face. “Did Buffy send you?!”

“She called me, but I came on my own!” Angel informs him sharply.

"This has nothing to do with you!" Spike yells. "This doesn't concern you or the Slayer!"

“You’ve been ravaging the city! How could it not concern her?” Angel fires back. 

I peer up at the sky, the shimmery stars they’re so clear tonight. It distracts me. I wonder away, leaving the boys to have it out. The stars, I could fall into them. A peaceful tune plays in my mind and I sway to it. I roll my head back and my eyes fall shut. Oh what I’d give to fall into the sky. 

“Pretty, pretty, stars,” I mumble. Then, the most brilliant idea pops into my head. “Do you ever think that the sky could swallow us whole?”

Suddenly, Spike cups my face frantically. He lowers himself to my level and his beautiful blue eyes plead with me. “Baby! Baby, you-”

I place my hands over his and snicker, not a care in the world. “Can we blast Nine Days when we get home?”

“Y/N, look at me! Don’t listen to a word Angel says, okay? He lies!” Spike instructs sternly.

I peer into Spike’s eyes, I get lost in the morning, noon, and night. He’s the real angel, a dark angel. 

“Come with me Y/N.”

I glance beside us and Angel’s there offering me his hand. Spike takes my hand hurriedly. 

“Don’t look at him, Y/N!” He demands.

“You can come to stay with me in Los Angeles,” Angel requests calmly. “I’ll help you regain your soul.”

“Los Angeles? The city of Angels?” I mumble, searching Angel’s face for any sign of deceit.

“Yes,” he nods, starring into my eyes solemnly.

Why must he always look so sad? Does he never smile? A sad angel sounds contradictory.

“How ironic...” I mutter, slipping my hand from Spike’s as I step closer to Angel slowly. “Tell me Angel, are there Angels? I used to believe in them once. So beautifully white.”

“There are good people there, who I work with,” he tells me. “They’ll help you too.”

“Doesn’t sound very welcoming to me,” I worry quietly.

“You’ll be safe. I can teach you a better way of existing,” he assures.

“Don’t listen to him, Love,” Spike warns behind me.

I whip my head around and meet his gaze. He’s no longer pleading with me or frantic. He stays back, squeezes his fists until his knuckles are white. His jaw clenches as he restrains himself.

“He’ll only bring you pain, that’s what a soul does!” Spike barks, his eyes locked on Angel behind me.

“He’s lying, Y/N,” Angel argues gently.

I flicker my attention back to him and he peers down at me.

“A soul brings back your humanity. You’ll be able to live amongst humans again and not feel the urge to kill them constantly.”

“Y/N-” Spike shouts and I snap my head back.

“You’ll be able to see your family!” Angel interrupts, dropping a massive bomb.

I look back to Angel, utterly torn.

He nods, “I met them today. They miss you.”

“Stop it, Angelus!” Spike growls, storming up to us.

He grabs my hand and starts ushering me away toward the ledge to get out of here.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Angel pleads, following us. “Come with me! I can offer you another chance at life!”

“But...” I stumble slightly as I switch my sight between Spike and Angel.

“It’ll be okay,” Angel guarantees. “I promise!”

I halt, causing Spike to jolt back. I stare at Angel, unsure of what to do. One part of me is saying to trust him, but the other is saying to not listen and go with Spike.

“Love, let’s go!” Spike tugs on my arm to come along.

I yank my arm free and march up to Angel. He towers over me and I stare into his eyes, tired of this torment.

“I don’t like it when things are ‘okay,” I confess to him vulnerably. “It means something bad is just around the corner. An impending doom...”

He shakes his head slowly. "Not with me, Y/N I’ll protect you,” he whispers.

"And why should I trust you?" I question.

I mean, why should I trust someone who comes at the beck and call of the Slayer? He could be lying for all I know.

"Because I'm not the one who made you choose death to be with me," he reasons, his eyes flickering back to Spike.

My heart sinks in my chest as my eyes fall to the black covering of the roof beneath our feet. So many voices in my head yelling at what to decide, it's excruciating! A small piece of me is yearning for a soul, a conscious to tell me right from wrong. Is it possible that there's an ounce of humanity left in me? The majority of my instincts thrive off the pain of others and claws for more. I want to give in to the darkness and live blissfully. Yet, that small bit continues to nag at me! I don't know. I don't know what to do!

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Masterlist