Spike's Heart (spikes_heart) wrote,
Spike's Heart

A Calm October Afternoon finds the Last Chapter of Enemy, Mine

Chapter five brings us to the end of my little tale. Hopefully you've enjoyed
the ride.

As always, all comments are welcomed.

This was a challenge fic set forth by Kittenshift17 on Elysium Fields
The parameters of her challenge are behind the cut.

Shatter by Kittenshift17 [Responses - 1] +25
Categories: Alternate Reality
Characters: Buffy, Spike
Buffy shows up on Spike's doorstep one night. She's shivering, bleeding, and scared. There's a dazed look in her eyes - she looks drugged. She looks like she's been through hell. Looking up at Spike, swaying slightly as though close to passing out, Buffy mumbles, "...didn't know where else to go..." then, she collapses in Spike's arms.

Extra points if Spike is still the villian when Buffy goes to him.

*Feel free to choose a different title.

*Anything goes, as long as it's Spuffy

(credit to @one-lonely-whumperfly)


Despite the orange/pink glow of the setting sun still lingering in the sky, Spike was already pushing the door to Giles’ apartment open.

“Can’t say it’s been fun, Watcher,” he called over his shoulder as he exited, “’cause it hasn’t.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Did you really expect better from Mr. Manners?” she asked, giving Giles an apologetic shrug. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“The pleasure of your company is always welcome, Buffy. As for your companion… suffice to say, thank god for the setting sun.”

Offering a symbolic salute, Buffy made her own exit and found Spike in the courtyard breathing in the warm evening air.

“About time, Slayer,” Spike muttered. “Thought I was gonna go completely carrot top if I had to stay there one more second.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Buffy intoned, waggling her finger at him. “So, how do you wanna do this?”

“Let’s get your juices pumping first,” Spike purred, the innuendo loud and proud. “What say we start with a game of chase the vampire?”

Buffy’s felt a little flare of adrenaline; it had been a while since she actively set out on a hunt. “Sounds good to me. I’ll even give you a minute’s head start.”

Without taking time to comment, Spike bolted, sing-songing as he passed, “Catch me if you can!”

“All right, Spikey,” she said with a grin, “let’s see what we’re made of.” She counted to fifty, took a deep breath, and charged off down the path Spike had blazed before her.

She ran full out, holding nothing back and feeling gloriously free. It wasn’t often that she got the chance to sprint; usually her prey attacked her while she walked sedately.

By the time she broke out of the suburban area, her stride was long and easy, loping quickly after her quarry. Spike remained out of sight but, she felt a twinge of awareness now and again. Buffy wouldn’t put it past the pesky vampire to slow down long enough for her to sense him before taking off once again.

But she wasn’t about to let him mess with her head and beat her, even if this was all in fun (and the pursuit of knowledge). She accelerated past the industrial area of town and into a stretch of woods, still going strong. Leaping over obstacles with ease, her pace never slowing as she emerged from the trees.

Restfield was in sight. There was no sign of Spike as she pulled open the gates surrounding the cemetery, but when she rounded the corner, there he was: sitting on the Maguire crypt – his feet dangling off the roof – swinging back and forth, looking like a teenager waiting for his best buds to show up with the beer and the weed.

He was grinning like a loon.

“About time you got here, Slayer,” he crowed, jumping down from the roof and landing gracefully on his feet like a cat. “You feelin’ okay? Was about to send out a search party in case you’d forgotten how to run.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and snorted inelegantly. “Like a rock star, Spike, I’m fashionably late… how do you think I feel?”

He sized her up with a long, languid look, tongue curling over his teeth. “You look happy,” he mused, continuing his perusal. “Look like you’re ready to take on the world.”

“So one scrawny little vampire shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Come closer, pet, and I’ll show you just how scrawny I’m not!” he challenged, beckoning ‘come hither’ with a sneer.

“Ready to have that smirk pounded right off your face?” Buffy retorted, circling him where he stood.

“Uh, uh, uh… that’s not on the agenda, is it?” Spike chortled, with a deep, infectious belly laugh. “No contact, just academic experimentation.”

“That I remember, vampire,” Buffy snapped back, a hint of hostility tingeing her words. “So who’s gonna make the first move in our little ‘experiment’?”

Spike swept out his foot, snagging Buffy’s left leg and landing her on her ass.

“Guess that’s gonna be you,” she muttered, swiping the dirt off her pants before rolling her shoulders. “The next move,” she said, throwing out a roundhouse punch, “is mine!”

Clearly anticipating the swing, Spike evaded the impact, answering her attack with an uppercut to her chin.

“Oh, come now, pet. Tame moves won’t prove anything to either of us. Time to dance, petal,” he said, holding out his left hand.

Buffy grabbed her vampire’s hand and sent him airborne over a headstone. For the next couple of hours, they waltzed over tombstones, through mausoleums, and around statuary. They vaulted over rooftops and banged into trees. Spike had never been more accurate in his unlife; they truly danced.

Buffy felt exhilarated! It was all back – the hard-earned knowledge of her partner’s moves and her corresponding steps. The only thing missing was the satisfying thunk of flesh-on-flesh contact.

She wasn’t a masochist by any means but when Spike used to land a punch, she’d felt energized. The slayer part of her had thrilled in anticipation of his next hit or kick. It had made her eager to give it her all and answer each point of contact with a blow of her own.

And after each fight, she surveyed her abrasions and bruises, counting each one as a victory; proud that none were a killing blow. Buffy imagined that Spike felt the same. Or used to. It was a pity their ‘duel’ was hampered by his chip.

She couldn’t believe that the idea of a chipless Spike suddenly moved her so. The idea that he was physically restrained by his little Initiative toy must be killing him inside. No wonder he resorted to so much mouthing off. It was the only weapon he had left.

Buffy was so tied up in her empathy for Spike that she stumbled just the teensiest bit… which was more than enough of an opening for Spike, who managed to grab her from behind, pull her up against his chest and place an open-mouthed bite against her neck with his blunt, human teeth.

“And the killing blow is mine,” Spike said with a lick to Buffy’s neck.

Buffy noted that he didn’t crow his victory; didn’t brag. Just a simple statement, and it almost brought her to her knees.

“I don’t know how you do it, Spike,” she said, breaking his gentle hold. “I really never gave it much thought before… but this has brought it home in a way nothing else would.”

“What’re you yammering on about, Slayer?” Spike asked, perplexed.

“You! With the chip!”

“Yeah, and…?”

“I don’t understand how you manage to get up every da – night, knowing that you can’t be yourself. That you’re unable to use the powers you’re supernaturally endowed with.”

“Since when did you get all philosophical?” Spike asked, cocking his head and giving her the once-over.

“Since I was reminded, yet again, of what it feels like to be powerless and helpless. I might not have actually asked to be the Slayer, but since I was chosen… I’ve become kinda good at it.”

“Best I’ve seen,” Spike agreed, “and I’ve seen plenty in my unlifetime.”

“And killed a couple, as you’re always so proud to call to everyone’s attention.”

Spike just preened, saying nothing.

“I feel sor-”

“Don’t you bloody dare, Slayer,” Spike fumed. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll end you.”

“All I meant was-”

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant. I don’t need or want your pity.”

“Fine! Apologies for trying to be empathetic.”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” Spike muttered with less rancor, looking down and kicking clods of dirt from the ground.

Slightly mollified, Buffy just nodded her agreement.

“So,” Spike said, obviously changing tack, “I’d say this little outing has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re back to your spectacular self.” Then added critically, “Still droppin’ your left shoulder a mite, however. Should work on it, Slayer.”

“Giles is always harping on the same thing,” Buffy admitted. “I try, but it’s a bad habit that he can’t seem to get me to break.”

“The bloke’s alright for bookish stuff, but for a trainin’ partner, you need someone who can keep up with you.”

“Are you offering your services, Spike?” Buffy asked, incredulously. “I mean, yeah, you helped me out of a difficult sitch here, but actually helping me train? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I don’t come cheap, pet. There’d be conditions.”

“And just what would they be?” Buffy rolled her eyes, half-expecting something ridiculous and totally unworkable to come out of his mouth.

Spike laughed. “I’ll make it easy on ya. First off, I’d like a weekly supply of blood, preferably human. Obviously not straight from the tap, but even with the preservatives hospitals stick in their supply, it’s still better than that pig swill I’m being forced to subsist on.”

“And just where do you expect me to come up with this magical supply, Spike? Hospital blood is for humans, not vampires.”

“Talk it over with your Watcher and see what he can do. I’m sure hospitals have blood that’s expired, or near to it. Again, still better than Porky.”

“Okay,” Buffy huffed. “Say this is doable. What’s your second request?”

“That none of your little Scoobies decides to go stake-happy on yours truly. You want me dust in the wind, you’ll have to do the honors yourself.”

“Sounds reasonable. I can make the request, but you know Xander, and even Giles. They hate vampires, but I’ll see if I can get them to give you a pass, as long as you behave.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Spike snorted. “Spike the good little white hat.”

Buffy giggled in response to the image. “You will be if you want your blood and non-stake status.”

Spike’s response was nothing but a smile as they headed back to report that all was right in Buffyland for the moment.

Again, as always, a shout out to my triad of betas: Twinkles, micrindle23, and Stalwartsandall. You make me better that I am without you.
Tags: enemy mine, fic
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