Not Beneath Me - Prologue

By Tasha (All) & MissKitty (1-7)

Disclaimer and Distribution notes are listed on the Index page of this story.

Buffy Anne Summers walked out past the kitchen door and onto the back porch of her home. Every bit of her heart screamed out with a splitting ache after hearing the news from her mother about the now scheduled hospital visit. 'So much for it being nothing.' She thought. 'Why couldn't she tell me sooner?'

Buffy sank down onto the porch steps, blankly staring out at the yard. Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face in her hands and lap. 'Nothing can go right anymore. First I'm staked with my own stake, then Spike, and now this.' Her body shook with the sobs that lodged in her throat.

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Spike aka William The Bloody swaggered down the street with a definite destination and purpose in mind. 'This time that damn slayer won't be so fortunate. Beneath her ... HA!' His grip tightened around the barrel of the shotgun. Black booted feet crushed through the foliage that lined the Slayer's backyard on Revello Drive. 'I'll show her who's beneath whom.'

Anger and hatred burned in Spike's eyes. The last time a woman had said those words to him it destroyed him, and he became a creature of the night. This time he would get back some of his own, as it were. Sure and determined steps moved assuredly along the back lawn, sauntering closer and closer to Buffy's position on the stairs.

Cold, steely blue eyes glared at the Slayer, not even recognizing the girl's pain in the haze of his own crumbling heart. With a twist of a sneer on his lips, and his chiseled cheeks sucked in deeply, he cocked back both barrels of the shotgun.

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The click of each barrel being readied broke the silence of the dark night and disturbed the little world the Slayer had slipped into. Buffy looked up at Spike with tears in her eyes, the despair, pain and worry evident in the glistening green orbs. "What do you want now?" Perhaps if she weren't crying the harshness of her voice would have secured the vampire's anger at her. As it was, it knocked him from his reverie.

Spike's anger started to abate a little. His face, only a few moments ago filled with loathing, changed to a look of concern and care. His gaze locked with hers as she spoke. 'Is she crying?' He asked himself. With each passing moment his face softened just a little bit more as the love that he holds in his heart for her melted the icy barrier he had worked to erect in the last few hours. "What's wrong?" He gulped when he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." Buffy looked down at the ground and away from the probing eyes of Spike. No matter what she was dealing with now, she couldn't let him see her pain. After their meeting earlier in the night, she was sure that he would revel in her grief or mock her.

It didn't matter how much disgust or revulsion Buffy shoved at him earlier. Spike's heart could not stop from constricting upon seeing her like this. He might be undead, but she could make his heart beat or break with just a look or a word. "Is there something I can do?"

Buffy was silent. The lost look on her face only deepened with each breath inhaled and exhaled. It was almost as if Spike wasn't even standing there in front of her. She had zoned out, back to her thoughts once more.

Spike tilted his head to the side watching her. What could make his Slayer cry? Cautiously he moved to the stairs. Backward glances at the shotgun in his hand made his gut retch. How could he have been thinking of killing her? He laid the gun against the porch post and let it go.

Spike sat down next to Buffy, slowly so as not to spook her. Buffy didn't flinch at his nearness but neither did she seem to welcome it. After several minutes of silence, Spike tried to break the heaviness surrounding his Slayer. He patted her on the back and repeated, "Is there something I can do?"

The touch was enough to slap Buffy back into reality. Instinctively she pushed Spike away and stood. "No!" She looked away from him again, out into the dark night, and sighed. Her emotions fought to take control of her. So, she spoke out to no one in particular, "God, why does life have to be so hard?"

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