2writers4spike (2writers4spike) wrote,

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Anticipation (17/21)

Title:  Anticipation
Authors:   2writers4spike aka mabel_marsters & dawnofme
Pairing:  Spike/Buffy
Rating:  NC-17
Warning:  Mentions of Spike with others.
Betas:  seapealsh & slaymesoftly.  Thank you so much!

Anticipation:  a: a prior action that takes into account or forestalls a later action b: the act of looking forward ; especially : pleasurable expectation

Summary:  Having no idea how it happened, Spike finds himself back in 1977, reeling from a newly acquired soul and more guilt than most could handle.  After dodging Drusilla, his main focus is getting back to his own time and back to Buffy in Sunnydale so that he can atone for all he's done.  That is, until he sees the newly born slayer in 1981 and goes off in a new direction.  Can he stop the events that brought misery to Buffy's life, or will he be forced to watch destiny destroy the woman he loves all over again?


Previous Chapters

Disclaimer:  We own no part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series.  We write this purely for fun and not financial gain.  No infringement of copyright intended.

banner by dawnofme

Chapter Seventeen

Spike paced up and down his crypt. Graduation was fast approaching and he had no idea what to do about the impending disaster.

“Bollocks!” He punched the wall and growled as his knuckles split.

This being a guardian was beginning to wear on him. He wanted action for once not reaction. Grabbing his coat, he threw it on as he stomped out into the cemetery. The air was cool and threatened rain.

“Oh, please, do it! Fucking rain!” he yelled to the sky. It wasn’t right to be so sodding dry all the time.

“Missing your native land?”

Spike whirled around; startled that someone had gotten so close without him knowing.

“Trick?” Spike took a step towards the dark figure, scowling. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Trick walked into a patch of light from a street lamp.

Spike shrugged and feigned nonchalance. “So what brings you to Sunnyhell?”

“What normally brings me anywhere – money, power, women – not necessarily in that order!” Trick grinned. “Surprised to see you here though. Where’s Drusilla?”

Spike knew that Trick was lying. The vampire was notoriously well informed. “Haven’t been with Dru in decades – as you well know.”

Trick grinned broadly and opened his arms. “I was glad to hear you finally off loaded the bitch. So why are you here?”

Glancing at Trick, Spike’s thoughts were in turmoil. The mayor was the key to the whole Graduation Day thing and Trick’s presence couldn’t be a coincidence. He was bound to be along for the ride.

“It’s a Hellmouth – bound to see some action from time to time,” replied Spike. “And it’s nicer here than Cleveland.”

“But a little too dry, huh?” said Trick.

Spike shrugged again. “Was going for a drink – want to join me?”

“Sure. You can show me the sights.” Trick put his arm around Spike’s shoulders and they walked away.

He was pretty sure that Trick already knew exactly where everything was in the town, but Spike played along and tried to guide the vampire toward Willy’s bar.

Trick smoothed the lapels of his immaculate suit and shook his head. “Aww, c’mon, man. There’s got to be somewhere with a prettier clientele than a demon bar.”

“Well, there’s the Bronze…”

“Great – lead the way.” Trick waved a hand theatrically.

Making sure that his companion couldn’t see, Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

Minutes later they were settled on the balcony, gazing down at the crowds of young people gathered around the dance floor. Spike suddenly tensed and took an intake of breath. Trick glanced at him sharply and then followed where Spike was looking.

“Oh, the Slayer,” drawled Trick, leaning back in his chair. “Pretty little thing. I have yet to taste the sweet blood of a Slayer.” He didn’t miss the look of anger that crossed Spike’s face. “Unlike you.”

The blond schooled his expression into a more neutral one and then turned to stare at Trick. “Keep your mitts off her. She’s mine,” he said coolly.

“Ooh, yours is she?” Trick raised his eyebrows. “Man, you’ve been in Sunnydale for years and she’s still slaying. Don’t think she’s yours anymore. Fair game for anyone.”

Spike willed himself to stay calm; he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by offing Trick. He always travelled with an entourage, even if they were unseen at the moment, and Spike had no intention of getting Buffy in the middle of a fight like that.

“Whatever,” he said eventually.

“Won’t matter what happens to her soon.”

“That why you’re in town? Something big brewing?” asked Spike, trying not to stare as Buffy swayed to the beat of the music.

“Yeah. You want in?” asked Trick.

Shaking his head, Spike met Trick’s eye. “Don’t think so. I don’t play well with others anymore.”

“I’d heard that,” replied Trick, confirming Spike’s earlier suspicion that Trick knew what was going on.

“Had enough of being someone’s sidekick. Angelus, then Dru. I like doing what I want, when I want.”

“Including killing our kind.” It wasn’t a question.

Spike quirked a brow. “Sometimes. Got a problem with that?”

Trick grinned. “Hell, no. Too many of the damn things all over the place.”

He picked up his bottle of beer and held it towards Spike, who chinked his own against it and nodded.

“I’ll keep out of your way – but a heads up when it’s about to go down would be appreciated,” Spike said.

“Sure thing,” replied Trick.

They both knew that he was lying.

Spike stood up and nodded, before walking out as casually as he could manage. Trick and his cronies would be out hunting for their dinner soon, and he wanted Buffy and her friends off the streets.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Buffy spotted him and began to move towards him. Almost imperceptibly, Spike shook his head and stalked out, relieved that she didn’t call out to him.

He waited in the alley for her to come out of the building.

“Buffy,” he whispered as she glanced around. “Over here.”

She marched up to him. “Okay, what gives? What was going on in there? Who was the vampire that you were with?”

“Don’t miss a trick, do you, pet?” he said, grinning at her, enjoying his play on words.

“Can’t afford to in this town.” She put her hands on her hips and fixed him with a stony stare. “So spill.”

Tilting his head to the left, he reached out and gently pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You look beautiful,” he murmured.

“Quit changing the subject,” replied Buffy, but her voice held a smile.

“Look, do you trust me?”

Buffy met his eye boldly. “You know I do. With my life.”

Spike closed his eyes as her words from first time around rang through his mind. I could never trust you! A warm hand touched his face and he opened his eyes to see Buffy peering at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Before good sense kicked in, he pulled Buffy towards him and kissed her gently, almost shyly. As he went to break the kiss, Buffy put her hand behind his head and held him where he was. Her tongue pressed at his teeth and he opened his mouth to accommodate it, trying not to think about Angel teaching her how to kiss like that.

Spike was breathing heavier than the Slayer when they finally parted. “Oh, hell,” he muttered.

Buffy scowled. “Oh, hell? You think that’s an appropriate response to a kiss like that?” Her words were brave, but Spike could see the insecure, sexually inexperienced girl within.

“No it’s not. It was…” He broke eye contact. “It’s just…I shouldn’t have done that.”

Buffy poked him in the ribs. “I think I played a part in it, Spike. Why do you keep, saying that we shouldn’t kiss, or touch?”

He glanced back up to meet fiery hazel eyes and couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s adorable.

“Don’t laugh at me!” snapped Buffy. “Don’t’ keep treating me like a kid.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Buffy. And believe me; I know that you’re a woman.”


Spike ran a hand over his face. “Now’s not the time, okay. It’s just not the time.”

“You keep saying that! When will it be time?”

“After graduation,” replied Spike after a pause. “I’ll tell you everything after graduation.”

Suddenly remembering the real reason that he’d waited in the alley, he said, “Look, I need you to get your mates and go home, okay? Stay in for the next couple of nights – no patrolling.”

“No way! That’s my job – that’s why—”

“You’re the Chosen One, blah, blah. Yeah, I know that, but I’m asking you.” He finally let the love he felt for her show in his expression. “Please, just do as I say this time, okay? Something’s brewing and if you patrol, your little pals will too and that might just end up getting them killed.”

Buffy took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay. But you promise to tell me everything?”

“After graduation – yes, I promise.”

“I’ll go get Willow and Xander.” She turned away.

“Be careful,” said Spike.


To Spike’s relief, the Slayer seemed to have kept her word and he didn’t see her out on patrol for the next few days. He’d done some research. Shite, it was boring, but necessary. As far as he could find out, the mayor was going to turn into some bloody great big snake demon thingy and with Trick as back-up he’d wreak havoc.

The fact that first time around, Buffy and Co. managed to stop it – albeit with the destruction of the high school, didn’t deter him in his need to prevent it. Spike decided that he needed to get to the mayor before the change. But of course it couldn’t be as simple as that could it? Oh, no. The fucker was about as indestructible as Spike was with the Gem on his finger.

His left hand strayed to his neck. He figured that nothing could survive a severed head. Now he just had to work out the best way to get to the git. No way would Trick fall for the old ‘I wanna be in your gang’ routine that Darla had fallen for, especially after his little speech in the Bronze the other night.

Trick. He had to get Trick out of the equation first. Last thing he needed was a fight with him interrupting his assassination of the Mayor. Spike fingered the ring. So far he hadn’t made use of the properties the ring offered, apart from his dash home that first night. Maybe it was time to go out in the day and check out Trick’s lair. Wherever he’d settled, Spike knew it’d be posh.

Spike found it disconcerting to wander around Sunnydale in the daylight. Undercover work was that much more difficult when everyone could see you! He’d shed the duster and even his usual black in an attempt to blend in with the humans he encountered. Suppressing a growl when a bulky man jolted against him with his shoulder, Spike pulled the baseball hat he’d stolen – no way could he bring himself to buy the bloody thing – further down over his eyes.

Ten minutes later, he glanced up at the house that Trick and his gang were using, relieved to see that it stood alone at the end of the street. The windows all had shutters on them, so maybe the nearby residents thought the place was still empty. But Spike knew different. The house positively reeked of vampires. He shifted the can he was carrying from one hand to the other and patted his pocket to check that his lighter was there.

Glancing around, Spike crossed the road and moved swiftly and silently around the building, sloshing the contents of the can around the base of the house’s wooden walls. When the can was empty, he tossed it onto the driveway where it fell with a clatter that he knew would have the vampires inside on their guard. Smirking nastily, Spike walked boldly to the front door, and banged on it with his fist. Another glance up the street revealed no one was about.

“Trick!” yelled Spike. “I know you’re in there!”

He took a step back making sure that he was in sunlight, when he heard someone inside approach the door. The surprise was that it was Trick himself that cautiously opened it.

“Spike? What the hell?” Trick’s eyes were wide as he took in the sight of him.

“Just wanted you to know that you really shouldn’t have called Drusilla a bitch. I loved that woman for a century.” Spike flicked the top of his lighter up and the flame burst into life.

“Wait!” yelled Trick. The stench of the gas fumes reaching his nose. “You’re going to burn me for calling Drusilla names?”

“Well, that and threatening to kill the woman I adore,” replied Spike.

“I never mentioned killing Dru,” protested Trick. "She's been dust for years!" Several of his minions gathered, growling and snarling behind him. “How can you be in the sun? The Gem! Fuck, you’ve got the Gem of Amara!”

Spike waved his hand. “Yeah, that I have. Oh, and the woman in question is the Slayer. No one threatens her life and walks away.”

With that he tossed the lighter towards the front door, it ignited the fumes before it hit the ground and within seconds the house was ablaze. Spike moved to the opposite side of the street, hidden from anyone’s eyes by a hedge, and watched the pandemonium that ensued. Several of the minions ran outside, so desperate to escape the flames that they forgot about the sun. By the time the fire truck arrived, all of the vampires had perished.

As he slipped away, Spike thought about what he had done. It left a bad taste in his mouth. It hadn’t been a fair fight – it hadn’t been fist and fangs pitted against each other – but it had been something that would save countless human lives. That made it right then, didn’t it? Spike recalled when Harmony had approached him in the Bronze. He smiled sadly at the memory and nodded. She deserved to live. Trick and his cohorts had killed countless times. It was just. So why did he still feel a little sick about it?

Shrugging off his dismal thoughts, Spike ran through the plan he’d devised to assassinate the Mayor. First things first, though. Time to get back into his normal attire. Throwing the cap in the last trashcan that he passed as he returned to his crypt, Spike jogged the rest of the way. He had no time to lose – he had to strike before the news of Trick’s demise reached the Mayor.

Spike knew exactly where to find him – the golf course on the outskirts of town. His surveillance had shown that the golf course was the only place that the Mayor was ever alone, refusing to have his aides from the office join him. Obviously hiring a vampire as a bodyguard had its drawbacks.

After changing his clothes, Spike went to his secret hiding place and took out a metal box. In it was his most recent purchase – a totally untraceable handgun. He liked its solid weight in his hand, and the fact that it wasn’t something that he’d ever thought of using before now. Pushing a clip of bullets into it, Spike checked the safety catch and placed it carefully in the large pocket of his duster. He grinned as he swung a short handled axe a couple of times. That was more like it. But he couldn’t risk messing this up, and shooting the Mayor would incapacitate him long enough to allow Spike to lop of his head.


Spike got to his selected position with time to spare. The strange quirks of the man ensured that the golf course was empty. All but one of the Mayor’s entourage would remain at the clubhouse while he played his round. The vampire tensed as he heard the golf buggy approaching the thirteenth tee. His left hand gripped the gun and slowly withdrew it from his pocket. He hoped that he wouldn’t be spotted before he did what he had to do.

The Mayor waved his sole companion off as the harried looking man, sweating in his business suit, drove the buggy away to get the Mayor’s usual thirteenth hole drink. He’d meet up with him on the green. Talking happily to himself, the Mayor swung his driving iron as he walked towards the tee. Spike raised the gun and took aim. He emptied the clip into the man’s back, and ran forward as his victim cried out and fell to the ground. He was halfway to him when he heard his name yelled out from behind him.

“Spike! What the hell are you doing?”

The vampire skidded to a halt after glancing at the Mayor to make sure that he was still down. Squinting in the bright light, Spike scowled. Who is it? Something passed his arm with a hiss.

“What the fuck?”

Giles was running towards him, trying to reload the crossbow as he ran.

“Bugger!” groaned Spike. His eyes widened when he looked over his shoulder and saw the Mayor struggling to his feet. Knowing that the Gem would keep him safe from the bolts that the watcher was shooting at him, Spike swapped the gun in his left hand for the axe in his right and swung it as hard as he could at the Mayor. To his astonishment, the blade got barely halfway through before it stopped. Grunting Spike wrenched it out and struck again. He lost his footing as a bolt hit him in the low back.


“I’ll have no cussing in my presence,” said the Mayor conversationally. His grin still in place despite the fact that his head lolled to one side on his partially severed neck.

“Die, you bastard!” screamed Spike, vamping out and swinging the axe again.

This time it went clean through and the smiling face of the Mayor bounced across the grass as his body slowly collapsed.

“What have you done!” yelled Giles, throwing himself at the vampire, a bolt from the crossbow in his hand.

Spike whirled around and the bolt embedded firmly into his chest. Giles’ momentum carrying them both to the ground.

“Ow! Shite, Watcher! That stings,” complained Spike before beginning to chuckle at the expression on Giles’ face as he let go of the bolt, mouth agape.

“Y-you’re not dust.”

“Nope, not so as you’d notice,” replied Spike, wrapping his hand around the wood and yanking it out. “Got myself a nice bit of protection from pointy bits of wood and the sun.” He pointed at the sky, but Giles didn’t seem to be able to take in what he was saying.

“You killed the Mayor!” Giles was shaking with rage. “You killed a human!”

Spike took his eyes from Giles and glanced at the remains of the Mayor. “Bloody hell!” He leapt back just before a hand grabbed his ankle. “I’d get up off the ground if I were you, Giles,” he yelled, lashing out with the axe and severing the mayor’s outstretched arm.”

Giles gasped and scrabbled to his feet. “But…”

“Got anything else on you apart from wood?” yelled Spike. “Don’t think that’s going to work.”

“What is it?” asked Giles, as he fumbled to get a dagger from inside his jacket.

“Some sort of bloody demon, what do you think? Here, swap,” ordered Spike, offering the axe. “I don’t reckon you want to get too close to him…er…it.”

The pair exchanged the weapons and paused for a moment to take in the gruesome sight of the three pieces of the mayor trying to get back together again.

“I think we’d better hurry,” said Giles.

They hacked at the still animated corpse until it finally ceased to move, by which time both Giles and Spike were covered in gore.

“The remains need to be burned,” Giles stated.

“What? You knew about him? That’s why you were here?”

“No. It just seems like a good thing to do when dismembered things keep on moving,” replied Giles. “Buffy tracked a demon last night, but lost him around here so I thought I’d take a look and then I heard the gunshots.”

“You’re not the only one.” Spike stared in the direction of the clubhouse. “His aides are on their way. And what was Buffy doing out on patrol? I bloody told her to lie low for a few days.” He looked the gore spattered human up and down. “You’d better make yourself scarce. I’ll see to the rest.”

“Oh…yes…right,” Giles said. “I’ll go – but I need some answers, Spike! William the Bloody with a soul and now invulnerable to stakes and sunlight—”

“Holy Water too,” added Spike helpfully. “Haven’t tried it yet but think—”

“Shut up!” yelled Giles. He noticed figures in the distance then glared at Spike. “I know what your game is.”

“That right?” growled Spike taking a step towards him.

“The Slayer – you’re in love with Buffy.”

Spike opened his mouth, but closed it without uttering a syllable.

Giles pointed the axe at him. “We will talk.” Then turned and jogged into the woodland adjoining the fairway.

Spike rolled his eyes and regarded the pieces of mayor with distaste. How the hell am I supposed to burn you up before they get here? The aides were approaching rapidly.

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this!”

He shrugged out of his duster, spread it on the grass and then selected the largest bits he could before gathering it up and running away in the opposite direction to where Giles had gone.


Spike hung his duster from a rusty nail to help it dry. It had taken him almost an hour to wash the gore from it, but at least there was no way that the Mayor could reassemble himself now that half of him was ash. He poured himself a large glass of JD and swallowed it in a couple of gulps, hissing as it hit the mark.

Closing his eyes he thought of what he’d said to Buffy and what Giles had said to him.

Seems like I’ve got a whole lot of talking to do.

Chapter Eighteen

Tags: anticipation, fiction
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