TITLE: She's Like the Wind
BY: Zorya
E-MAIL: LunarMyth
DISCLAIMER: Of course I don't own anyone. And those I do own, I'm not sure I should claim. So they're the play toys of Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy....all rich guy types, whereas I'm not...rich...or a guy.... Oh - and the song isn't mine either (as if you couldn't tell, you sly dog, you) It's Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind"
CATEGORY: B/S
RATING: PG-13
DISTRIBUTION: If it's something you want, just ask.
SPOILERS: Season 4 implied
SUMMARY: Spike wants the Slayer...Buffy wants Spike...but is that enough?
FEEDBACK: Ummm. I guess so. I like it good, hey I even like it bad....I just don't like the flames. They tend to lick at the tender spots.


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He watched the Slayer.

Three years. Five months. Two weeks. Six days. Twenty hours. Fifty-four minutes. Eighteen...no, nineteen seconds. But who was counting?

That's how long it'd been since he returned to Sunnyhell and the Brat Pack. It amazed him sometimes how quickly they could forget he was a vampire. It wasn't as if he was all soul-having like his pathetic excuse for a Sire.

Smack. Crack. Crunch. Spike winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of bone ripping through flesh.

"Hey Blondie," the Slayer called out to him over her shoulder as she whaled on four of Dru's minions. "Think you could give me a hand here?" The vamp whose leg she'd just practically maimed was curled up on the ground in pain. She used his body as leverage to jump up into a spin kick that effectively dislodged the woman vampire's head from her neck. Buffy straightened a bit in surprise. "Wow," she murmured. "They don't teach that in Home-Ec."

Spike threw down his cigarette and stomped it out with his boot. He took his time sauntering over to the Slayer. His arrogant grin was animalistic as he smoothly withdrew the stake and dusted the wounded vamp. With a twirl he replaced it in his back pocket.

"Nice," Buffy told him. "Now do you think you could possibly help with one that's active and...omf," she grunted as one of the vampires kicked her in the stomach. "Kicking?" she finished as she returned the favor, landing a well placed boot on his chin and sending him flying backwards.

Spike watched in appreciation as she fought. It wasn't more than a second before she'd staked the vamp. He had to admit she was a skilled fighter, even for a Slayer. *No, not just any Slayer,* he thought. The only Slayer who'd ever been worth his time. It was a partnership that galled him to his undead heart. Yet he couldn't deny the touch of pride as he watched her, knowing that it was his training over the past three years that had turned her into a virtual killing machine. And Cor! but she had a tight little.... Spike was thrown off guard as the subject of his thoughts stalked towards him and grabbed hold of him by the lapels of his leather duster. He was even more surprised when she lifted him off the ground and flung him into the last remaining vampire.

"Do you think you could be any more useless? Why don't you try fighting instead of standing around playing with your...fangs...or whatever...." Buffy spun around and stalked off. Just as he was about to follow her, the demon reached around him and tore through his shirt and skin with her razor sharp nails. With a snarl, Spike grabbed at his stake and plunged it into the vampire as if she was nothing more than a pesky dog. He stood up only to notice that the Slayer was nowhere in sight. Growling, he reached out with his senses to try and detect something of her -- her scent, the sound of her heartbeat, anything -- but it was to no avail. Obviously the Slayer had hightailed it back to her dorm. Or to the Bronze. Or anywhere else. Anywhere that wasn't with him.

He wasn't in the mood to search for her tonight. Partially because if he found her, he wasn't sure what he would do to her. Spike didn't know just when the change had occurred, but indeed it had. It hadn't even been his idea to return to this god forsaken place. When he'd left after kidnapping Red and the Boy Wonder, it had been his sole intention to get Dru back. And he had. But it was never the same. His thoughts often wandered to the petite Slayer. He had to admit, he liked her attitude. She was strong and brave and witty and...alive. In the face of all that, Dru paled in comparison. Her whimsy and her dolls and her desire for blood grated upon his nerves. But he couldn't exactly return to Sunnyhell and claim the Slayer for his own. Not after the pretty little speech he'd given her and her Great Poof. Alas, in the end he'd had no choice but to leave Dru. Even though she'd followed him here. And wasn't it a pretty little surprise to learn that Angelus and the Slayer had parted ways? While Dru hadn't let Spike "go" yet, she was spending much time chasing after her elusive "Daddy".

It wasn't as if Spike could deny what he was. No, he still craved the chase and the blood and the hunt. But Fate had seen fit to lead him here, and he didn't relish the thought of the Slayer staking him. As much as he'd helped out these past few years, Spike had no doubt that she would. And he liked it that way. As long as she thought him dangerous, he could hold his desires for her at bay.

Spike grinned. No, he may not be able to have her, but he'd be damned if he'd let anyone else touch her in his place. It had been so much fun tormenting that young boy who'd gone after the Slayer so devotedly during her first year of college. They'd dated and Spike could tell that the Slayer liked him....Riley Finn was his name. A college junior and so "dreamy", as Red had said. However, after an intense Spring Break in Mexico -- coupled by a few anonymous threats and attacks from Spike -- Riley Finn had never returned to Sunnydale. It was a pity, really. You win some, you lose some. But Spike wasn't betting on losing the Slayer to anyone. Even if she didn't know what she did to him.

Spike looked up from his wanderings and noticed he'd unconsciously made his way to a bar he sometimes frequented. The Cheatin' Heart. It was an old hole in the wall whose patrons ranged from the random truckers passing through to the bloodsucking creatures of the night who called Sunnydale their home. That was funny. "Sunny"....sun....toxic to a vamp.... Spike shook his head. The bloody Slayer was turning his brain to mush.

With an inward groan he noticed it was Open Mic Night, and that a few drunken truckers and a large group of rowdy teens were crowded around the stage as a youngish woman pranced around in a parody of a strip tease. He strolled over to the bar and asked for his usual -- a bottle of Jose and a bottle of Jack -- and went to start a party of his own. Spike was halfway through the tequila when a terrible screeching noise sounded in his ears. It vaguely reminded him of grating metal. It was bloody awful. And it seemed to be coming from the little twit who on stage thought she could sing. It seemed he'd picked the worst night to stop by. However, the only other places to go were Willie's and the Bronze, and at both of those places he ran a small risk of bumping into the Slayer. So it was The Cheatin' Heart for him all the way.

He rummaged around in his pockets for his cigarettes and swore when all he pulled out was an empty pack. His stormy gaze swung to the pool tables where a cloud of smoke hung over the players. He supposed he could bum one off someone over there. And if not...he could deal with a meal. Spike made his way and watched for a moment as two young men played. It was a serious match, as Spike could see from the pile of money stacked on the edge of the table. In fact, both men were very good and as his attention was caught, his interest in the smokes flew out the window. He'd like to play the winner. Not that he needed the money, but focusing all of his attention on a challenge would get the Slayer off of his mind -- if only for a while.

The tall, blonde guy won and threw a good-natured, confident grin over the crowd. "Any other takers?" he asked, fairly sure there would be none.

"Sure," Spike answered, moving forth from the shadows he stood in. The boy was good, but he was better. And he should be -- he'd had much more time to study the game.

The young man smiled. "Ok. I'm Chris. What are we playing for?"

He nodded. "Spike. And I don't care. Money's not a problem, but what sort of bet were you looking to place?"

Chris shrugged. "Well, if you don't need the money, I'd be happy to keep what I've won tonight. No use in tempting fate, right?" He grinned conspiratorially to Spike. "How about a nice, easy wager? I win and you do something for me. You win and I'll do something for you."

Spike snickered and shrugged off his duster. This kid was too easy. Maybe he'd get that meal after all. "Sounds good to me, mate." The other man tossed him the pool stick, which he caught easily in one hand. "Game?" he questioned, unconcerned.

"Eight-ball," Chris replied. "You break."

Spike positioned himself at the end of the table, his sole focus on the balls at the other end. The pool cue slid powerfully between his long fingers and he smiled as the '3' rolled into the left corner pocket and the '5' shot into the right center. "Solid," he said. He walked around the table, searching for his next shot. He leaned over the side. "'4' to corner right," he called, just before striking the cue ball and causing it to ricochet off the side and hit the '4' into the right corner pocket.

"Nice," Chris commented.

Spike nodded absently and aimed again. He lined the shot up to hit the '7' off the end of the table -- hoping to cause it to propel itself into the corner left. He called it and drew back, but just as he hit the cue ball he was distracted. The force of the stick's momentum caused the ball to jump...and land right into the distraction's hand.

"Nice going. Anyone ever tell you you've got great form? No? Hmmm...I wonder why," Buffy said from the other end of the table where she was leaning over -- providing him with a great view of her cleavage. In fact, Spike was enjoying that view a bit too much. Buffy rolled her eyes and tossed the ball to Chris before strolling over to Spike. "You know, it's odd that you stand around and let your mouth hang open. I notice you do that a lot lately...I mean, it's not even like you have to breathe," she muttered to him.

Spike growled and turned away from her before she could notice what "other" effects she had on his body. "Great going, Slayer," he bit out. "Why don't you just ruin all my fun. I could have won without him ever getting a shot in, you know. Why are you here at all?"

"I guess I finally figured it was time for me to learn a little bit more about you," Buffy tried not to lie. "And where better to start than the sleaziest place in town?" She almost felt bad for that last shot. Almost. Truth was, she'd been so flustered by his presence earlier that she'd just run off without a second thought. Recently her body and mind had been reacting to Spike in ways Buffy didn't want to think about at all. However, she couldn't get to sleep when she got to her dorm room. All she could think about was Spike's body pressed against hers as she'd picked him up. Remembering the look on his face made her want to giggle. So she'd gotten dressed again -- in clean clothes, of course -- and had decided to hunt for him.

Spike tried to pay attention to Chris' game but his awareness of the Slayer near him was too great. She'd changed. No longer was she garbed in the track pants and sweatshirt he'd insisted she wear. No, now she was in her usual "Buffy-wear". That being the skimpiest little camisole and skirt she could possibly find. Spike was almost sure that she was taking the "Home Living" course only as a way to learn how to alter her clothes and make them even shorter and more enticing. He hazarded a glance down at her bare legs and sucked in an unneeded breath. "What are you trying to do?" he spat lowly. "Get yourself raped?" Her long legs and strong, sleek thighs practically beckoned him to them.

"Excuse me? What was that?" Buffy asked, having not heard him. Of course she hadn't. She'd been too caught up in that look he'd shot at her legs. It made her go weak and she could feel the heat building inside her. However, she did know she did not like his tone of voice.

He watched as Chris scratched and turned to her as he picked up his cue. "Nothing, pet," he replied blithely, determined to ignore her and win the game.

Buffy cringed at the name and narrowed her eyes at the supercilious vampire. So he thought he could shrug her off, did he? She stealthily sneaked up behind him, and just as he was about to make his shot she leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I thought I asked you not to call me 'pet'.....luv." Buffy raised her gaze, assessing the table, and smirked. "Mmmmm, I doubt even you could get your balls into that hole," she finished breathily.

Spike jerked at her words and his shot was widely off the mark. "Dammit Slayer!" he swore. "Why don't you just go elsewhere. Don't you have any evil to hunt down?"

Buffy grinned. "I thought that was what I was doing," she said and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes raking over him meaningfully.

"Bloody Hell!" Spike looked towards the pool table just as Chris called and sunk the 8-ball.

"Well," Chris drawled. "Look's like that's that."

Spike turned to launch himself at the man, but Buffy held him back. "So what exactly do we have on the table?" she asked.

"Oh nothing big. Seems our boy here has to do a little something for me."

"Really?" Buffy asked, intrigued. "Like what?"

"Hmmmm," Chris looked Spike over in consideration. "Can you sing?" he asked out of the blue.

The question caught Spike off guard. "Yes," he answered without thinking.

"You can?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Then that's it," Chris said at the same time Buffy asked her question.

Spike looked warily from one to the other. "What's it?" he asked finally.

Chris grinned. "I'd like you to sing the little lady here a song for me. She deserves it, after the service she did me. I have no doubt you would have beat me if she hadn't shown up to distract you." He gazed down at Buffy and threw an arm around her. "And I can certainly see why she would. Would you care to go on tour with me? I think we could make a lot of money together," he grinned down at her.

Spike snarled. He didn't want to sing for the Slayer. Not unless it was on his own terms. And he didn't like that bloody bastard's arm around her either.

"Plus," Chris was saying. "We need some actual talent around here tonight."

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Oh yes, Spikey. I think you should. Ms. Edith says you have a wonderful voice," she quipped cattily, mimicking Dru.

He turned his glare on her and turned quickly, striding to the stage. He might as well hurry up and get it over with. The Slayer would never let him just kill the boy.

"And make it a nice, romantic song. I wanna dance with my number one lady," Chris called out laughingly.

"Does anyone have a friggin' guitar around here?" he bit out menacingly. The boy on-stage gulped as he saw Spike's game face and relinquished the acoustic instrument willingly. Spike wracked his brain for a song that would convey his feelings about the horrid situation. However, when he saw the Slayer turn Chris' offer for a dance down, he mellowed considerably. His strong fingers strummed the guitar idly as he thought. What would she like? Something old? Something new? He caught her gaze for a moment before glaring at the more rude patrons of the bar who were calling out demands for him to get started. Spike wanted to jump down and drain the ignorant fools, but Buffy wouldn't stand for that. So he looked her way again and was shocked when she shot him an encouraging glance. As he stared into her eyes the room calmed and everything seemed to fade away. His fingers began of their own volition in a song he knew well. His voice was smooth and rich as it caressed the notes he sang only for her.


She's like the wind through my tree
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done


Buffy felt herself warm as the words washed over her. He really was very good. Funny, but she hadn't thought about what Spike might do in his off time. It had never occurred to her that he had a life beyond hunting or slaying. She found herself wondering what else he was good at. But that train of thought led her to wonder if he was good at *that*. Buffy shook herself mentally and returned her attention to the stage. He was so sexy, sitting up there nonchalantly as if he did this every night. The red silk of his shirt contrasted vividly with his pale skin. She noticed it was just about time for a new bleach job, but the dark strands just added to his careless sensuality.


Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look into her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind


Spike sang the words directly from his undead heart. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. Not about a human. Not about a Slayer. His Slayer. How his stupid Sire could ever have left her, he couldn't fathom. Of course, brilliance had never been Angelus' strong point.

As he sang, the words conjured up memories. The Slayer and himself were rarely together unless they were fighting. Fighting each other, fighting together -- it didn't matter. It struck him as odd that he didn't know much else about her. But she was so vibrant, with a passion for life. Most humans were bland. But the Slayer, she was a force of nature. Whether she was fighting or hanging with her pals -- or shagging, if he remembered Angelus' play-by-play account correctly -- she did it with a wild abandon that even he envied.


I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she'll stop the pain
Living without her
I'd go insane


Sometimes Buffy pitied Spike. At times he seemed more like a lost little boy than a bloodsucking vampire. She wondered if perhaps Dru had served him as a surrogate mother/child to take away the pain of his immortal existence. Buffy smirked at her own thoughts. She was becoming way too motherly than was good for her. First she'd felt compelled to take care of Angel....now Spike?!?! As long as Dru wasn't next, she'd be fine.

He was an enigma. Perhaps not so much as Angel, but he was. Buffy was sure there were more layers to Spike than she could discover in a lifetime. His devotion to Drusilla...his enjoyment of the world as it was...his extremely hidden -- and most times nonexistent -- admiration for Angel...and now his determination to stay with the Scooby Gang. She'd give almost anything to know what went on inside that intelligent, albeit sometimes cruel, mind of his.


Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look into her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind


As Spike finished there was a deafening applause. Especially from the female patrons. He stepped down from the stage, lost in his own thoughts, but pleased with his performance. The song had perfectly deciphered his feelings for her. But, like the song said, the Slayer was out of his league. And with him being a vampire -- a soulless vampire at that -- it was too much to hope for that she could ever feel the same about him.

Spike almost laughed at himself. He wasn't prone to being melancholy. Usually if he wanted something, he reached out and took it. Why couldn't he do that with the Slayer? The answer rose unbidden. Because he was in love with the chit and he wanted her to respect him as much as he respected her. As much as he hated to admit it.

"Not too shabby," he heard her say. The Slayer stood right in front of him, a smile playing over her red lips and humour dancing in her sparkling eyes. He was afraid to examine what else might be held in that spellbinding gaze of hers.

"Really?" he asked indifferently. He was glad she liked it.

"Spike?" she questioned, her eyes gleaming predatorily.

"What, Slayer?" Spike asked irritably, rolling his eyes heavenward as he turned to go back to his unoccupied booth. Jack was waiting for him and he had a feeling he was going to need it if the Slayer was in the mood to rib him.

Buffy grabbed his arm and swung him back around. "Shut up and kiss me."

Spike's eyes widened imperceptibly. Had he heard her correctly? Did he care? No. There was no way he'd pass up the chance. His hands grasped her upper arms as he pulled her to him. With only a nanosecond of a pause, he searched her eyes before capturing her mouth in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. He didn't want to scare her away. But he needn't have worried, for she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, cradling his head to hers. His hands ran over her sides, pausing as his fingers lightly caressed the outer curves of her soft breasts. Spike moaned as Buffy parted her lips, her tongue darting out to trace over his own. His tongue sparred with hers as she rubbed her body against his, seeking a closer fit. It was he who broke off the kiss and leaned back.

"Slayer?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Hmmmm?" she sighed, her eyes roaming hungrily over his body. He wondered if she'd been drinking. But she hadn't tasted of alcohol. Maybe she'd finally broken.

"What's going on?"

Buffy smiled up at him. "What do you mean? Isn't this what you wanted? Or did I just misconstrue the whole meaning of your song."

"It was just a song," he said tightly.

"Right. And I'm just a girl. No more, no less."

"Why are you doing this?" His need for her pressed achingly against the tight fit of his jeans.

Buffy looked confounded before averting her gaze. "Because....."

He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to let her worm her way out of this one.

"Because I can't be around you without this weird feeling starting in the pit of my stomach. And it's not just that you make me sick. I...I just...it makes me all warm and tingly, and of course I know what that means, but it can't mean what it means because...well...you and me...and, well...no. But still...I just want to...." She looked up at him, her eyes practically scorching his body as they traveled over him.

Spike laughed and drew her to him once more. So she wanted him. Well, he wanted her too. But he wanted her heart along with the deal. It was a new feeling, but Spike thought he could persuade her.

She already wanted him. How hard would it be to make her fall in love with him?




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