Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Spike - Runaway

tw - abuse

1895

Thank you for sending assassins after me. I really needed that. Thank you. X

With something between a smirk and a sneer, she crumbles the piece of paper and shoves it into her pocket. Is a tiny part of her glad he got away? Maybe. Is Angelus going to be pissed and take it out on her? Of course.

Maybe her sire won't find out about their failing and he'll presume Spike's dead in a ditch somewhere like he ordered. But, when she goes into the living room, she finds Angelus opening up a present box. He tosses a pink ribbon to the ground and opens the box, his eyes flickering with rage when he sees the contents. From here, she can smell blood. She sneezes and his eyes snap up. 

Angelus picks up a glass vase from a shelf and flings it across the room. She manages to duck, the vase smashing against the door behind her. 

The way he growls her name makes her flinch. 

She gulps. 

"We need to talk." 

2000

It has been over 100 years since she's seen Spike, but she hasn't stopped thinking she sees him everywhere she goes. A stranger on a bus, an overheard British accent, a reflection in a shop window; the last one being the most ridiculous. 

So, when she sees a man with high cheekbones and pale skin at a random bar in a random town, she doesn't think too much of it. 

She's too hungry to think clearly, anyway.

The last thing she ate was a truck driver who gave her a ride into this weird town. He tasted like cheap burgers and, although that was a day ago, the greasy smell still clings to her clothes. She doused herself in fruity perfume to make up for it, the scent making her sensitive nose sneeze half a dozen times. 

If the guy at the bar looks a bit like William, he might be worth a bite. She'll do her thing: flirt then feed. It hasn't failed her yet. It's worrying how many guys will follow a stranger into a dark alleyway under the guise of a promised kiss. 

She sits next to the man, smoke and whiskey instantly hitting her like a slap in the face. He even smells like Spike. She cycles through about fifty pick up lines in her head but can't seem to settle on one for the first time in... forever. That's interesting.

Before she picks one at random, just to get the conversation started, he speaks. The British accent makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Can I buy you a drink?" 

She blinks at him. The low light hits his face in such a way that he almost could be the vampire she knew all those years ago. He's a crazy coincidence of a being. 

"Whiskey." she says and the man sends his own whiskey crashing to the floor as he turns his entire body in her direction. 

He says her name with so much feeling, that she can't pick out what exactly those emotions are. Unease licks up her spine. 

"How did you -"

"It's me, you prat!"

There's an awful pause where they both stare at each other, unblinking, unmoving, before her stomach flips and she accepts that William The Bloody is sitting before her. Too many questions flood into her mind so she settles on a statement instead.

"I never thought I'd see you again!"

"That makes two of us. What the bloody hell are you doing in Sunnydale?"