Regroup

"I have a daughter who can take care of herself. Who's brave and resourceful and thinks of others in a crisis."

Spike stifled the urge to make gagging noises at the revoltingly touching mother-daughter make-up scene he was witnessing from the roof of the school.

"No matter who you hang out with or what dumb teenage stuff you think you need to do, I'm gonna sleep better knowing all that."

He glowered as the Slayer walked away arm in arm with her surprisingly brave mother.

"About how long till this wears off and you start ragging on me again?"

"Oh, at least a week and a half."

"Very cool!"

Damn the Slayer for being all chirpy and happy instead of - well, dead, for preference, though at this point he would settle for gravely injured. He was already concocting a better story in his head for the inevitable questions he'd face when it became clear the Slayer was still alive. If this got out, he was never going to live it down, and there went his rep.

He wondered if the Slayer line ran in families. It wasn't something he'd thought about before, hadn't much cared. His obsession was to fight the bints, not to learn their history; unless it helped him win, it wasn't important. But maybe he should've been more thorough. Perhaps Mama Slayer was one of those Potentials who got missed by the Council? If she was, it would make being bested by her at least a little less embarrassing.

Being beaten or even killed by a Slayer in a fair fight, that was one thing. That was practically bloody noble, or as close as vamps ever got. Death or glory, what else was there? Hell, that was why he sought them out.

Getting conked on the head by the Slayer's mother? Then scarpering? That was just... he shuddered. He'd be laughed out of town. And while part of him would be glad to see the back of this provincial shithole, Dru was still sick... and William the Bloody didn't run from a challenge.

"Bloody buggering fuck." He didn't have a choice.

In the heat of the moment, he kept forgetting this one was different. It wasn't about death or glory. He'd lost himself, forgotten his plans, forgotten everything except the brawl and the blood and the girl. Forgotten that he needed to win to cure Dru, not just because this Slayer seemed like she'd put up a truly magnificent fight... he shook himself. Enough. Buffy was dead, she just didn't know it yet. He'd soon cure her of those annoying habits like walking around and breathing.

Since when did Slayers have mums hanging around to protect them anyway? That wasn't playing by the rules. Friends, family, the sodding parent-teacher do... Slayers were only supposed to have a Watcher and a death wish to keep them warm at night, not ruddy backup. He should write a letter to the Council of Wankers to complain about false advertising.

As for Dru, well Dru had been behaving oddly with him ever since he'd come back from that first recce, and then she'd accused him of- well, he didn't rightly understand what, because she hadn't made much sense, but it had all been to do with Buffy. When she found out the Slayer was still alive, smelled the girl all over him... Oh, he was in the doghouse for sure.

He pouted. Little blonde bitch, ruinin' his life.

And worse, it was his own damn fault for hesitating, all caught up in the moment. What had he been thinking? He wanted to snap her neck or drain her dry... but he also wanted to fight with her again. Even just watch her fight, that was fun too; he'd enjoyed seeing her take out that minion, barely breaking a sweat. Maybe he'd luxuriate in the scent of her hair a bit more, suck that plump bottom lip into his mouth to nibble on...

Bollocks. The bird was bloody magnificent. He wasn't nearly ready for this to be over. Kill her or keep her. Couldn't do both. Problem. He couldn't even turn her. Her wholesome air of sunshine and summer, the light in her eyes... if he turned her, he'd be destroying what he most wanted to preserve-

No. No, that wasn't it, couldn't be; he just wanted to taste her blood, and he was gettin' all confused 'cause of what Dru said about him being covered with her, and 'cause she smelled so good. That was all it was.

She clearly had a jones for grandsire, more fool her, and Spike could use that somehow, no doubt. He wondered if Buffy realised Angelus had a type, that she wasn't the first short sassy blonde to catch his eye.

Spike'd show her that it took more than a soul shoved up Angelus' bum to change the blighter, he'd show her that 'Angel' was a nasty piece of work under all the remorse and brooding, and then he'd show her she could do much better- no wait, that wasn't right.

Then he would kill her, get Dru healthy again, get out of this sorry hellhole and cut a swathe through the continent like they had in Europe. Except this time with no Peaches and Bitch Senior to spoil the fun.

All he had to do was get rid of the Slayer. He tried to ignore the remaining pesky misgivings he had about his plan. This time he'd stick to it, instead of getting impatient and distracted, and he'd do it, he'd succeed, for his Dru.

He just needed to focus.

He ran along the roof, dropped lightly down out of sight of the remaining shenanigans and started back towards the factory at an easy jog. Then, after a moment's thought, he changed direction. He wasn't getting any loving tonight, that was for sure, and he had the Annoying One and his motley crew to placate or maybe just kill.

He'd planned to feast on the Slayer with Dru, had hardly been able to concentrate on anyone or anything else since dancing with the chit, had pretty much forgotten to feed. He needed to eat, and surely it'd help him think straight, maybe even get the worst of Buffy's scent off him so Dru wouldn't be so cross.

Town centre should be full of people (residents of this stupid burg never did learn to stay home after dark), or maybe he would swing by the college campus and score himself a co-ed. He brightened up at the thought. He would find himself some blonde-haired, golden-skinned lass, seduce her and kill her and drain her, and maybe he could find out where the Slayer lived and leave a calling card on her doorstep to remind her what he planned to do the next time he saw her.

He'd show her (and Dru) that all he wanted was to make her his third, to defeat her and drink her up and dance on her grave. And if he was looking forward to getting in a few more fights with her in the meantime, well, that was just natural, right? Slayer, vampire, it'd be strange if he didn't enjoy that. Was bloody fun!

Comforted, he ran off into the night.

~ fin ~