Chapter 1 - He Just Doesn't Give Up Does He?

Disclaimer: I own no one in this story. ^^ Just my idea!

A/N: Honestly, I really don't know *when* this story starts. It's somewhere probably a bit before 'Intervention', and definitely before she dies. ;^^ The main coupling is Spike/Buffy but of course you have the real couples in it too. ^_~ And before you call this story stupid—well—let me tell you—you're stupid! Yeah! I mean—erm—well, all right, you're not stupid. You're probably smart. -_- Just read—all rightys? ^^

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                Spike took a drag out of his cigarette. "Bloody boring night.."

                He glanced around the seedy little place he had found himself to be occupying at the moment. Dark, dank, and had various types of alcohol he could get smashed on. It was absolutely perfect for him. The bartender eyed him warily, and he smirked at him. Someone that worked in a place like this should be used to shady characters, but it seemed the bartender felt Spike, in his long black duster, was somewhat different then the usual tough burly men that usually came around.

                "What are you lookin' at, mate?" he asked, and the bartender shook his head quickly. "Then stop ogling, eh? Get me another."

                He didn't have to be commanded twice. In a minute Spike had another one in his hand. The bartender seemed to take extra care not to make him mad. Spike wasn't going to complain. If the bloke didn't like mysterious bleach-blonde guys who were just innocently draining a couple of drinks, so be it. Spike himself didn't think he looked very scary in his little 'human' form. Actually, he kept hoping he was bordering cute.

                Well, let's put that more precisely. He hoped he would one day even get near the border of cute with one certain person. Of course, that still hadn't happened, and Spike was beginning to wonder if his slight obsession with a certain blonde slayer that had tried to kill him a few times before was a bit over the top. All right, so slight wasn't exactly the right way to put it, or it wasn't to her and her little friends anyway. Still, one couldn't blame a guy for trying. He was convinced that with a lot of trying, he could prove to her he wasn't actually an all around bad guy that she kept thinking he was.

                He was just a little—loopy. A good loopy. She'd like him if she just gave him a chance. If she had done that months ago, she wouldn't have been forced to go through all the trouble of un-inviting him because he kept tending to 'accidently' finding his way into her room. Some girls just liked to make things all hard—

                He threw a couple of bucks to the bartender and walked out. He was now at the point he liked being at—trashed, but not enough where he couldn't think straight. He looked up at the moon, which was casting its usual eerie glow. The moon was his sun now. He still remembered how it took him a while to get used to it, but now he realized he didn't miss the sun enough to have himself burn to a crisp, that's for sure.

                He had seen a few vampires lurking about, but didn't really feel like killing them. That was really the reason. It wasn't because he knew that because he let them roam around that *she* would come around. Never. He whistled an unknown tune, pretending that he wasn't looking for anything—or anyone. He walked toward his crypt, taking a bit of a longer way. After all, you know, he was in an unfamiliar territory. He took a wrong turn. It was plausible; it was dark after all.

                Spike seemed satisfied; he had his story made. He decided to pretend he didn't realize that since he was a vampire, and since he hadn't left Sunnydale for a good amount of time, that he knew every inch of the town. Hey, she didn't know that, right? What she didn't know wouldn't get him a stake in the heart. And, just like he predicted, he found her fighting off one of the quite weak looking vamps that had decided to have a little fun in town.

                He smiled lightly to himself. Now that he had just decided to just let the crush take over, life seemed a little simpler. No more 'Dear bloody god Spike, first you date a string of losers, and now you're after the girl that has threatened you with a wooden object for years?', he decided that hey, if he liked her, he liked her. He'd just have to put on his charm, and he had a lot of that, he'd win her over. One day. Hopefully in the next century. Or at least before she died.

                He suddenly realized that there were a few more vampires then he first expected. And they were closing in on her. A good seven or eight of them. Sighing, he realized he'd actually have to help her. And here he thought he would get to talk to her without having to exert himself. He waited until one had downed her when he struck. The one that was standing over her was the first one he went after, and a quick stake to the back made him disappear. Yeah, it was pretty sad—a vampire holding a stake. But then again, when he was just a human, he was never very normal after all. Why stop a 'good' thing when he became one of the undead?

                She stood up, probably not even knowing who had helped her. He stepped back and let her take out the rest of them. Now that she was off her back, she could take the rest of them. He hid in the shadows, watching her kick and punch and stick the wooden sticks easily into each of them. He had to smirk; she really was overconfident of herself. Now she was left standing there, trying to catch her breath a little. She glanced around, like she was looking for the one who helped her.

                "I know you're still there." She pointed out. "Thank you for helping me."

                She *definitely* didn't know who helped her. He came out of the shadows, standing behind her. It all happened pretty quickly, she spun around, aiming right at his heart. She stopped inches away from piercing it in. He didn't realize he had tensed up until he realized that he was still alive. His eyes caught hers and he finally got his voice back.

                "Do you mind?" he smirked. "I know you like to be close to me, luv, but—"

                "I should have staked you when I had the chance." She grumbled, lowering her weapon, taking a step back.

                "Just a few seconds you were saying 'Spike, you saved me—'." He persisted, following her as she began to walk away. "Am I your hero now?"

                She whirled around. "Spike, I think Big Bird would be my hero before you would be."

                "Hey, if you like yellow, I can do yellow—" he trailed off. She groaned.

                "Don't you have a coffin to be in somewhere?" she asked, glaring at him.

                "You don't show gratitude well, do you?" he asked, continuing to follow her.

                "Is there a reason you're still by me?" she asked, then paused. "Actually, there's a better question. Were you following me?"

                "No." he responded innocently. "I just got lost and—yeah. I took the long way."

                "I'm not in the mood for this. Just go to the crypt you came from." She waved a hand.

                "I am. You're going toward where I'm going. Small world, huh?"

                "You don't get the hint, do you?" she questioned, sounding annoyed.

                "Well, my brain's been bloody dead for a few hundred years, after all." He pointed out.

                "You're going to be dead in two seconds if you don't leave me alone." She warned.

                "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. 'Oh Spike, I'm going to bloody take my big wooden stick and put it through your non-existent heart, because I'm the big scary Slayer git.' Sing me another song, sunshine." She turned to him again, the glare intensifying. "I'm beginning to think that's your idea of a first date."

                "The day I go out with you is the day that the world really ends." She responded. "Now just—go do your vampire activities. I, unlike you, am on a mission, that I really would like to get done."

                "A mission, you say?" he raised a brow. "You caught my interest, Slayer."

                "You are NOT coming with me." She quickly cut in.

                "But I'm apart of your little gang, luv." He smiled innocently; he decided to completely ignore the look she was giving him. "I don't want you to get hurt, after all. I'm such a gentleman like that."

                "Gentleman? Spike, you're a lot of things, but that's one thing you'll never be." She rolled her eyes.

                "I'm British, we have to be gentlemen. Ask your little watcher."  He nodded proudly. "And I'm coming with you. I'm sworn to protect the holier-then-all Slayer."

                "Oh really? And who said that, Mr. Vampire?" she asked.

                "I did. Hey, I'm allowed to bloody choose whatever I want to do." He explained. "So let's go. You know you want help."

                "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" she sighed.

                "Not likely." He shrugged.

                "If it'll shut you up, fine, you can come with me. But I swear if you mess me up I'm not going to stop mid-swing." She twirled around again, stalking away. Spike grinned largely. This idea had worked better then he ever imagined.

                He quickly followed after her.