Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike+/Dawn, past Spike/Buffy, Giles/Anya, mentions Xander/Anya
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike: Moody Weekend: Hot
Warning(s): Cannon Character Death
Word Count: 1,731
Date Written: 25 November 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Spike drove his fingers through his short, blonde hair. Water pounded down on his scalp, but the freezing temperature this time just wasn’t enough. He’d awakened to find Dawnie almost naked in his crypt, and he’d almost surrendered to her pleas. Almost, but then he’d remembered her big sister and the promise he’d made her, the woman he’d thought he loved.
No, he told himself, growling, he had loved her. He still did! Just as a part of him would always love his first true lady love, Drusilla, another part of him would always love the Slayer. He’d always be hers, no matter how many centuries he was forced to endure without her. He didn’t love the kid out there hanging out in his bed, waiting for him to return. He cared about her. He did love her, but not like that!
He couldn’t love her like that! He’d promised her sister -- his love, his Buffy, the woman for whom he would have done anything and had done more than he’d ever thought possible, going completely against the Demon inside of him to become a (mostly) good guy. He’d fought hard to become the man he now was for her. He hadn’t been worthy of her when he’d only forgone feeding on her species because of the chip in his head that kicked in and seared him with such pain any time he tried to attack a human. But now the reasons why he didn’t attack them, and saved them instead, were far more than just to keep himself from red-hot agony.
He truly was a better person, and it was all because of Buffy. She might never have loved him, even if she’d lived, but she had come to trust him. She had believed in him; she’d proven that by placing the most important duty of all onto him. She’d entrusted him with her kid sister’s life, and now that very girl was trying to drive him bloody bonkers!
Spike suddenly stilled himself as he heard a slight but telltale rustle outside of his shower stall. Then the plastic curtain started to be pulled aside, and Dawn moved to step into the tub beside him. “OH HELL NO!” Spike snarled. He jumped out of the tub so fast that he took the curtain with him. It twisted around him, and he fell onto the cold, hard floor.
His heart, which hadn’t beat in well over two hundred years, seemed to suddenly hammer in his ears as Dawn moved toward him. “NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME, DAMN IT!”
“Oh, come on, Spike.” She pouted down at him as he tried hard to keep his gaze focused on her face. She was so beautiful, he thought, and ripped his gaze away from her pouting, full lips and big, innocent eyes. It took everything he had not to let his gaze go lower instead to her perky, nubile breasts or the swell between her legs. Dawn was definitely a mature woman now, even if she’d never been supposed to be a woman at all. She was a key, he told himself, a cosmic key who Buffy had loved as her sister even if she wasn’t, and he wasn’t about to open that bloody door!
“Bollocks -- “ he grumbled, but she was still swaying toward him.
Spike jumped up off of his own, concrete floor, dashed out of the bathroom and through the main part of his crypt, snatching up his duster as he went. He moved with the super speed of the Vampire he was and was gone by the time Dawn emerged from his bathroom. Somewhere along the way, he managed to shed out of the shower curtain that had wrapped around him and don his duster.
He was still running when he almost ran directly into the Watcher, whom he had barely seen since Buffy’s death. He deftly knocked the stake out of Rupert’s hand. “SPIKE!” Giles cried out in surprise.
“Buffy told you not to do that!” he growled, his anger turning on the Watcher.
“I-- I’m sorry!” Giles sputtered, surprising him and making him stop his flight at last. “I didn’t know it was you!” Rupert explained. Spike would have doubted him, but he could smell the truth and distraught rising off of him.
He narrowed his eyes at him as he fished a cigarette out of his pocket.
“Got another of those?” Giles asked as he lit up, surprising him for the second time that night.
Spike wordlessly passed him the cigarette, then pulled out another for himself. He took a long drag, trying to calm his own shaking nerves, before finally speaking, “What’s going on, Ripper? You’re not usually so jumpy.”
“I’m not usually attacked by a sensual Demon either!”
Spike quirked an eyebrow. “A sensual Demon?” he asked.
“Yes. They are Demons who feed off of mankind’s most primal emotion, lust, and who make a normally well-behaved person act out on their most basic, sexual impulses without regard -- “
“I know what they are!” Spike snarled, silencing him.
Giles looked at him from wide eyes behind his spectacles. He slid the glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and took another puff on the cigarette Spike had given him.
“So there’s one in SunnyHell, huh?”
“More than one, actually, as it turns out. There seems to be an entire tribe of them -- “
“Nothing.” Spike growled, warning the Watcher not to ask him again about his slip of tongue. “How do we stop them?”
“The usual ways. The problem is this particular tribe are also shapeshifters. They can appear as any person who their prey will find attractive, but their favorite form to take is the very one for whom their prey’s hearts most yearn.”
“Looks like they need to do their homework,” Spike growled, quickly finishing his cigarette and tossing it on the road behind him. He yanked up Giles’ crossbow and readied the arrow in it. “Arrow through the heart works fine, I’m guessing?”
“Yes, but why -- “ Giles started to ask, but following Spike’s gaze left him flabbergasted. His tongue completely failed him as Spike took aim on the female in the middle. She appeared to be standing between Anya and Dawn, but they both knew that the true Buffy’s body lay cold and dead six feet under, which meant that these three hot, sensual ladies before them could be no other than Demons.
He let the first arrow fly even as Giles muttered, blushing crimson red with embarrassment, “Please don’t ask.”
The arrow pierced the heart of the creature making herself appear as the Slayer. She screamed, clawed at its wood, and reverted back to her true, Demonic form before crumpling between the other two, who kept coming. Giles rolled to his feet, grabbed his axe, and took off toward the other two Demons as Spike loaded another arrow. “I won’t ask,” he called, “long as you don’t ask about the Nibblet.”
“Agreed,” Giles quickly compromised as he slung his axe and cut the third Demoness’ head off of what appeared to be Dawn’s body.
Spike finished up, blasting an arrow through the chest of the one who was making herself look like Anya just before her clutches could land on Giles. The sound the Watcher made was quite girlish as her corpse fell onto him from behind. He knocked her away, then adjusted his collar. “I -- I’m sorry. I do not usually carry on so. It is just that with her appearance -- “
“No explanation needed, Ripper. I know you can be a badass, but it’s . . . buggering these things appearing as our women.”
“Our women?” Giles rose a hairy eyeball at him.
“Yeah. The women under our protection. Including the one we both loved and had to bury. We’re not buying anybody else tonight. You said there’s more of these things?”
“Yes. I believe I have determined the location of their nest.”
“Let’s go,” Spike snarled. “I can use the . . . exercise,” he said instead of the word that was perched on the tip of his tongue. The fight would be a much needed distraction from what still awaited him at home.
Dawnie must have encountered these things at some point today, because it had the real Dawn who had thrown herself at him and tried to join him in the shower. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t remember a thing about it, but if she was embarrassed . . . Well, they’d just have to work through it and agree that, in honor of her sister, the only thing that could ever be between them was friendship. He’d protect her, Spike vowed again, hoisting the crossbow up onto his shoulder, no matter what it took, even from the deadliest dangers of all, himself and his love which seemed to condemn all those for whom he genuinely cared to death.
The two warriors glanced at each other, but neither spoke. Giles would not condemn Spike, because he knew he was doing his best to protect Dawn and keep surviving after Buffy’s death, as they all were. Besides, he owed the Vamp a favor; he hadn’t even asked him why one of them had chosen to appear as Anya, his latest forbidden love. She was Xander’s fiancee, not his own, and he had no right to have such feelings toward her as those which had been developing themselves lately. He’d fight those feelings just as he’d fight these Demons, and he would win, just as they would against the Demons, both those who came at them wearing the faces of their sometimes secret loves and their own.
Spike fired another arrow, piercing the heart of one who looked exactly like Jenny Calendar. Giles moved forward swiftly, lopping off the snarling head of Drusilla from another Demon’s shoulders. Again they did not speak. They did not thank each other, but their eyes did. They were lucky to have one another, they realized; things could have been far worse. At least they were together in this as well as in moving forward after losing Buffy, whom they had both loved so dearly. Their secrets were safe. They’d always earned one another’s mutual respect long ago, and together, they would win this battle. Spike could only hope that, when he got back home, the battle awaiting him there would go at least half as smoothly as this one.