"A Word Before Dying"
by Amber

          A pale light flared in the darkness, lighting the tip of the cigarette before it faded and left the fag glowing orange. Spike inhaled the smoke, pocketing his silver lighter briskly. He pulled the cig out of his mouth and exhaled the smoke slowly. It was dark in this alley. The bleach blonde vampire sat perched upon a small stack of wooden crates, one leg hanging over the edge. It was easier to think this way, alone, without the Slayer to screw up his mind.

          Why, he thought. Why do I let the damn bitch torture me? Why can’t I just let the bloody Slayer go? She wants nothing to do with me anyway. I’m only good for a shag and nothing more…

          His thoughts trailed off as he lifted the cigarette to his lips once more. He breathed in the smoke, felt it curl in his dead lungs before puffing it out once more. He didn’t smoke much anymore, he had quit for a while because he knew Buffy frowned on such a thing.

          Buffy. There was that name again. It haunted his dreams and nightmares. Even his thoughts weren’t safe. She used him. She broke up with him. Had the bullocks to call him William, too. Yeah sure that was his real name, but she used it like he was human. Like she actually cared if he hurt. He had even brought some two-cent skank to the ex-demon’s and that whining boy’s wedding, which barely got a head turn out of the Vampire Slayer. It drove him crazy to think she only felt hurt. Not driving her to rage and jealousy as he had hoped.

          “Goodbye, William.” William…William died a long time ago. Back in England, back when I gave a damn about my life. Back when Dru turned me and life was simple. Kill, maim, torture. That was it. Sweet, lovely massacre. Now I got the bloody Slayer mucking things up for me. Ripping my undead heart out of me chest and stomping all over it. The bitch.

          Spike leapt down from the crates, his black duster fluttering a little as he hit the ground. He dropped his fag before smashing it with the heel of his shoe. Like the Slayer had done to his heart. Chewed it up, spat it out, and stomped all over it. Yeah she had made her impression on him all right. He knew he could take on Buffy if he wanted. The chip didn’t react to her anymore. But if he did he’d be in a world of trouble with her and her little band of nitwits. So he hung back on that idea. Why couldn’t the Slayer see? For so long she had claimed that she couldn’t love Spike because he was a thing of evil, that the only thing holding him back was the chip in his head. Now, with Buffy back from the dead, the chip malfunctioned when around her. He could easily attack her if he wanted. But he didn’t. Didn’t that make him human? Well maybe not physically, but at least he had a little bit of decency. That meant nothing to Buffy, obviously.

          Stupid git. Why can’t she see? I’m supposed to be holy like Angel? All mopey and soul ridden? Yeah right.

          Yes, Spike, the big bad, had been used. By a mortal, very human girl he had once hated. The truth seared his thoughts. Bloody hell, he’d been used. Like he was nothing, a pawn in the Slayer’s game. But for the life of him, Spike couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe, one day Buffy would admit she loved him, that she felt something for him. God, why did it rile him so much that she used him? He had liked it. It made him feel wanted, almost special. Now though, now he felt empty. Alone, abused. It was such an awful feeling. Like when Dru had left him for a demon. Not even an attractive one. God, it drove him crazy.

          I am love’s bitch, he decided as he walked out onto the quite streets of downtown Sunnydale. I’m Buffy’s bitch. Why can’t I just give up? Just let these feelings go…why can’t she let me be? I need this sodding chip out. I need to be the big bad again. Enough of William, let’s be Spike.

          The platinum blonde vampire smiled at the thought. He morphed into his demonic features, running his tongue over his sharp teeth. Yeah, being evil was good.

          Spike sauntered into the Bronze, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, grinning as he caught a glimpse of some pretty young thing swaying to the music. So maybe he couldn’t bite but he could have taste couldn’t he? He moved up behind the girl quickly, moving along with her. If she minded she didn’t say anything, only pressed back against him, her hands moving over her head.

          It was then Spike saw her. He watched the Slayer walk into the Bronze and he could have sworn he felt his heart beat at least a little. He stopped dancing, moving back from the girl, his gaze fixed on Buffy. Spike moved slowly toward her; she was surrounded by the bloody Scoobies though.

          Buffy, please just notice me. Just this once dammit. Look at me like I’m a man.

          The Slayer did look, her eyes acknowledged him and he saw her lips twitch a bit. She was so beautiful. All the angry thoughts he had of her earlier dissipated. He watched her from a distance as she turned back to mingle with her friends. The look she had given him meant she couldn’t talk to him now.

          Ah, Buffy, I love you…