For The Love Of Spike
M'lyn the Cursed
Warning: Some material may be objectionable to adults and children. Be aware that there are both fighting and romance scenes in this story. It's rated PG/PG-13.
Spike, when he had finally healed from his crippling fight with Buffy, rejected Drusilla and Angel because of how they had acted towards each other while he was impaired. Being a bit lonely, he walked to the Bronze to check out the latest singer he had been hearing about.
He opened the door, took a few steps in, then stopped. Pure, sweet notes assaulted his senses. An appreciative smile crept over his features, and he wove his way to the base of the stage.
Directly before him stood a young woman. She had one hand wrapped around the mike, another lightly gripping the stand. Her slim form, sheathed in black, swayed slightly with the trio behind her. Stage smoke swirled over her, around her, making the scene almost ethereal. Pale, thin, blueish light fell over her features, turning her skin into carved alabaster. Her red lips expertly formed the words of the song, but Spike didn't hear a note. He merely stood, transfixed, until the end of the song. As the last note faded away, the girl opened her eyes to slits and fixed them on his face. She smiled slightly, then moved off stage.
Spike walked along the stage edge to the door that led backstage, which clicked open as he approached. Pushing it open, he slowly walked down the long, dim hall. He could hear a band start on stage, and the sounds of the crowd. His footfalls made no sound with his hunter's stalking gait. Heightened senses picked up the smells of freesia and stage makeup, the glimmer of fallen sparkles beneath his feet. The only lighting was being feebly emitted from the flickering exit sign at the end of the hall.
Then, to his right, he noticed an open door. The scent of freesia was stronger from within. He pushed it open more and entered.
The girl sat before a vanity, removing pins from her upswept hair. She turned slightly and met his eyes - green eyes, he noticed - and smiled. Spike said nothing and settled his lean frame on the sagging couch which braced itself against one wall.
As she removed the last pin, red curls tumbled chaotically to her shoulders. She rose and stepped behind a dressing screen.
"Your name?" she asked simply.
Spike was distracted by her silhouette, caused by light coming from the open closet behind her. Watching her shadowy figure as she pulled her shirt over her head, Spike felt a twisting in his gut and stood quickly. Then, when what she had asked penetrated his mind, he answered in a voice that was suddenly hard to keep casual.
Hearing a step, her turned and found the girl in jeans and a tank top. She sat on her vanity stool and pulled on heeled boots, then rose smoothly.
"Let's go," she said, in the same simple manner, and started for the door.
"Go? Go where?" Spike said with a puzzled laugh, and stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"To your place, of course. I thought your kind liked to feed in your own territory."
Spike laughed again, more freely this time. "I take it where I can get it, love," he said with a flashing, devastating grin. "What's your name?"
The girl smiled. "I just love British accents," she murmured silkily, running her hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. Spike stiffened and snatched her hands away.
"Answer the question, or I'll make sure that what you so obviously want will be quite painful," he said through clenched teeth, gripping her wrists. He was losing his patience, his control, and her hands had felt cool and light on his skin.
The girl sobered. "Katherine," she said, and pulled away. "My name is Katherine. Now then, where do you want to do this, if not at your place?"
Spike stared, speechless. He shook himself slightly and grasped her shoulders. "Are you tripping? What's going on here?!"
The girl - Katherine - smiled up at him. "I want to be immortal. To rule the night. To have ultimate power. What everyone wants, right? I know how powerful you are, Spike. I've been watching from the shadows. And now I want some too." Katherine reached up, stroking her fingers over his throat.
Spike stepped away. He felt, unsettled, unsure. "I'll...I'll be in touch, alright? I'll meet you here tomorrow night. Same time." She nodded, and he turned and walked out the door. Closing it behind him, be stared at the opposite wall and muttered, "What in the bloody hell is going on?"
The next evening, as Spike knocked on Katherine's dressing room door he was once again feeling unsure of himself.
When the door opened, Spike opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out. He stared with an open mouth.
Katherine wore an ivory white silk nightshirt, which only came to mid-thigh, and nothing else. She stepped back, letting him in, and he immediately shut the door and began pushing her towards her dressing screen. Her bare feet slid easily on the wine-colored carpet.
"What the hell is this? Put some clothes on, for God's sake. Something decent this time, too. We're going to my place." Spike wasn't blind, and he hadn't missed how long her legs were.
Katherine, once she had realized what he was doing, got her sliding feet under her and used the momentum of Spike's push to spin away from his hands.
"First of all," she started, brushing some curls out of her eyes, "I am wearing clothes. Second, don't push me around. And third, maybe I don't want to go to your place. Maybe I don't want to do this anymore." She put a hand on one arched hip and watched him from under her lashes.
Spike uttered a groan of exasperation and threw up his hands, turning away, and started to pace. "You mean to say that I barely enjoyed my breakfast today, trying to figure out this whole bloody situation, and that I could barely sleep whenever I thought of your, well...all of that for nothing?!?" he fumed. He could feel his teeth lengthening, his hunter's desire start to take over.
"Get...dressed," he ground out, trying not to pounce at her pretty white throat.
Katherine looked as though she was starting to lose her resolve. She gave him a couple of doubting glances, then stepped behind her screen. Spike sighed in relief and sank onto the couch. His control was back, and it would stay if he kept his thoughts away from the white- skinned Katherine, he was sure. Feeling himself start to lose that control just by thinking of her, Spike shook himself and stared at a poster on the far wall.
When Katherine moved back into the room, she was wearing a baggy sweater and a swirling black skirt. Spike was waiting by the door, relieved that she was more covered. He tossed her a coat - long and modest - and opened the door. Walking out, he paused to wait for her to lock her room, then continued out the back exit.
Spike had developed a bad feeling by the time he and Katherine walked into an old abandoned building. There was a heaviness in the air, a feeling of dread and forbidding in his gut. It was while they were trudging up the stairs to the fourth floor loft, where he'd decided to live after kicking out Drusilla, that Spike couldn't take it anymore. He threw out an arm, stopping Katherine on the step behind him. Turning his head, but not looking at her, he whispered back to her, "Stay here. Something's wrong." Seeing her nod in his peripheral vision, Spike continued up.
At the top step, Spike moved quickly, flattened himself against the wall, and moved his head slowly to look around the corner. Seeing no one yet feeling more wary than ever, he let himself move forward around the corner and down the hall, keeping an ever-constant eye out for...anything, he realized. He had absolutely no expectations as to what he was feeling would happen.
Then, in the room to his right - a rustle of clothing, an expelled breath, both imperceptible to human ears. He stopped moving and waited.
"Spike!" Katherine hissed a few feet behind him. Spike closed his eyes briefly in anger. Why the bloody hell couldn't she stay put? His senses had been focused, trained on the person in the room, and he hadn't noticed her approach. He waved a hand at her, motioning her away, and bent forward in a crouch toward the doorway. She misinterpreted, and took the hand. Switching tactics, he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her up behind him, never looking away from the door.
Just when he was about to think that he'd simply thought that he'd heard something, a dark form rushed out of the room and slammed him into the opposite wall. Dimly, over a rush of anger at being caught putting his defenses down, Spike heard Katherine shriek in surprise.
Then there was nothing but darkness.
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