Title: Normal People Need Not Apply

Author: Connecticut Junkie

Rating: PG-13 just to be safe

Summary: Ten words randomly picked from a dictionary. A vampire and a slayer not so randomly picked from a show.  A short ficlet to exercise those writing muscles. Fight atrophy!

Disclaimer:  Legally these characters belong to Mutant Enemy and UPN and a bunch of other entities. Spiritually, they're dead so I'm calling free reign.

*Written Feb. 1, 2002- so that's right about after 'Gone' and 'Doublemeat Palace'*

Telephone

Look

Aplomb

Determine

Obligatory

Best

Gyration

Wave

Heater

Defeat

Stopover 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Look, I don't know how many times I have to tell you something before you get it. Stay away from me."  Buffy wrapped her arms around herself and did her best to stalk off past the headstones and the bleached-blonde vampire. It didn't help that he was trying to get her resolve to melt like butter with those blue eyes that no demon should be allowed to have.

Of course, he wouldn't let her go that easily. His arm reached out to stop her, but Buffy had already ceased her momentum on her own. _'Cause you were expecting it, not cause you wanted it_, she told herself. She was telling herself a lot of things recently; her own inner voice was starting to get on her nerves.

"Now that you've got the obligatory 'stay away' line done, you wanna try and talk like normal people?"

Buffy pulled her arm away from him, but what was supposed to be a snatch was more like slow retreat. She did her best to put all the venom she could manage in her voice when she said, "You're not normal people."

"What? Did you miss the memo, love? Willow do her forgettin' spell again?" His voice lowered to the husky whisper that made her feel like they were sharing something far more sensual than insults. "You're not normal people either," he said with aplomb.

Her jaw clenched as she tried not to give in to defeat. His words wouldn't get to her. Again. But she'd be damned if she'd let him see the struggle, though she was running short on doubt that he had missed it. "Gloating on a man is so unattractive." _There. Flippant and indifferent and lots of other things that end in 'ent.' Yay Buffy._

"Brush it off as many times as you like, it still won't change the truth." He shrugged. "And it's gettin' boring. You've got a telephone, why don't you just ring Giles and get his big squishy brain workin' on all those books he's got."

"I am NOT telling Giles because there is nothing TO tell." The look on her face was determined. It was downright adorable, except Spike was getting a little annoyed with her, so he found it only somewhat adorable.

"Don't pull that shit with me, Slayer, 'cause you know I've always been able to see through you. This existential 'what am I' soap opera scares you to your core…your hot, tight, wet core that I do so love, by the way…so you better figure it the fuck out before it kills you. Literally. Somethin' might be wrong."

Why were her hands trembling? It was only stupid Spike words, said to make her insecure and needy so he could get a shag. She raised her eyes from her hands to his face and saw the look only Spike managed to pull off- angry, concerned, horny, loving. It was like watching an emotional slide show. "Something IS wrong. Do you think for even a microsecond that if everything was right I would have done…what I've done…with you?"  She didn't say it with anger, but with resignation, and it made his chest ache to see her so defeated. This was the part where he would try to make everything better; he'd done it countless times for Dru, and a handful of times for her, the latest being the other night when she was working.  That was the first time he almost saw her accept. Forward momentum, at least, even if it was only just the tiniest distance.

He couldn't help it, his hands held hers. "Just let me help you, Buffy." His gaze met hers and his eyes dared her to try and look away.

"You know I can't. Please don't ask this of me." There it was, the telltale quiver of her lip that preceded a wave of tears. A flash of white against the pink lipstick...her teeth biting down, stopping the tremble. Two strong blinks and the tears that were building were pushed back.

"Fine. If you won't let me help you, you've still got your Scoobie Snacks. Willow, she's a clever one and it was her bloody good intentions that pulled you back. Ask her about it."

"No. She's still overcoming the pressure of magic withdrawal. I don't want to bring anything up magic related; it could make it harder for her. She might give into temptation or something."

Spike sighed and cursed. "When are you going to get it? Willow's not addicted to the magic, she's addicted to the power it gives her. She was hungry for it and each time made her hungrier for more. This 'just say no' is only a stopover on her power trip. Believe me I know what I'm talking about. If this is 'cause of her- if you're wrong 'cause she screwed up- it could teach her a valuable soddin' lesson about stickin' her twitchin' nose where it doesn't belong."

"No." Her voice was firm and steady even though her emotions were gyrating inside her like Britney Spears on speed. "If it means that I gotta do the researchy stuff on my own, then I'll do it. Willow only meant well…they all only meant well, and they don't need to know about this." She brushed the stray hair out of her face and gathered up the rest of her resolve. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be at work early so I'm going home."

"Don't."

"Don't what? Go home? Cause I'm not going back to your place, in case you weren't paying attention."

"Don't work there." He was looking at her with eyes like a person who finds a lost puppy on the street. The look that said he wanted to make everything better for her if she would just let him. It made her insides melt in a way that had everything to do with unease and nothing to do with romance; it was temptation of the worst kind, because there was no going back once she gave in. Spike was supposed to cause her pain, not ease it.

But he obviously could not understand that. Nor could he understand that she already knew how bad her job was, and that this only made it seem worse. He took a step closer to her, and said, "I told you, if you need money I'll get it for you." His face was so close now to hers, his shoulder so inviting to her head. Maybe, she could have taken comfort in him that way, before. But now it just wasn't possible.

"I have to. I need to have a job to make Social Services happy."

"Why don't you just worry about making Buffy happy." His arm had circled her waist, his thumb brushing under her shirt to stroke the small of her back.

She wondered, not for the first time, why they didn't make Slayers with extra emotional strength to go with the enhanced physical strength. It took every ounce she had to pull away from him. "Stop playing the Concerned Boyfriend."

"That's what I am. Like it or not."

"I choose not."

He swooped in so fast she barely saw him, couldn't find the time to react one way or the other when his lips crushed hers. His hands skimmed her body in so many places so quickly she couldn't keep track, couldn't breathe because his mouth was unrelenting. She felt flushed and fevered, as though she'd been standing too close and too long in front of a space heater.

Then, as swiftly as he'd come in, he pulled away. Blue eyes that seemed darker because bitterness and pain were on display bored holes into her, leaving her nervous and a little guilty.

 "You don't get to choose," he said gruffly. With that, he stalked off, leaving her standing in the cemetery, fuming that he had gotten in the last word. She took no comfort, though, in knowing it was still far from over.

-END-