Series Title: Maltrovata al Chiar di Luna
Title: Inseguendo le Tenebre, Following Darkness
Author: Ananda, ananda1@mailcity.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All the recognisable characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers and Fox, and anyone else who claims them. I own nothing. I don't know who owns A Midsummer Night's Dream but it's not me either.
Spoilers: This is set around season 4. Spike has the chip but there's no Adam and Prof. Walsh is still alive. Angel's in LA with Doyle and Wesley and Buffy and Riley are doing the annoying cutsey couple thing. I'd go with up to The Initiative, more or less.
The title is from Sogno di una Notte di Mezz'Estate which was written by one W. Shakespeare and is otherwise known as A Midsummer Night's Dream. It's part of the famously misquoted line, "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania". The quote at the beginning and the end are the same:-)
The titles to this story are not in Italian to be pretentious but to celebrate the fact that the first ever episode of BtVS aired for the first time on Italia1 tonight (11th June 2000). Since I have been stuck Buffyless in this country for a year this was a great relief. It's kind of weird dubbed though:-)
Dedication: To Solo84 for running a great Buffy/Giles site and posting my Buffy/Giles (I know, I'm sick, I need help) fiction, www.bgshippers.com and if that's not a blatant plug, I don't know what is:-)
**********
"E già splende laggiù l'araldo dell'Aurora,
Al cui avvincinarsi gli spettri vaganti
Tornano in folla ai cimiteri. Gli spiriti dannati,
Che hanno sepoltura nei crocicchi e nell'aque,
Sono già rientrati nei loro letti verminosi
E, perché il giorno non riveli le loro infamie,
Si esiliano volontariamente dalla luce,
Alleati per sempre al nero cipiglio della notte."
Puck, Sogno di una Notte di Mezz'Estate
**********
The dorm room was silent when Spike arrived. Willow, he knew, was trying yet another Wicca group to see if she could find one that was interested in spells rather than spice racks but the Slayer should have been waiting for them. Tonight was their third patrol night of the week and Spike was eager to get it over and done with, so he could go home and think about her in peace.
In all honesty, Spike had accepted about an hour into their first patrol together 6 months ago that while he might lust after the Slayer as much as any other red-blooded male, and who wouldn't?, they didn't actually get on all that well together. While they might fight together, a synchronised duet of punches and kicks which beat almost every vampire and demon they met, their relationship was strictly business.
The Slayer didn't seem to want another vampire lover, especially after the mess the last one had caused. She was happily involved in the daytime world of college and friends and shagging that bloody whelp, Riley, who despite all the clues still had yet to figure out that Buffy was the slayer, or that Sunnydale was on a Hellmouth. Despite his complete cluelessness Buffy seemed content to do the normal boyfriend thing, and seemed to prefer one with a pulse. After Angel, though, Spike was really not suprised that she should prefer live specimens to undead ones, and sunlight to darkness.
Sunlight, that was the one thing Spike missed most about his life before he was turned. There was virtually nothing else. Eldest son of a rich country squire Spike had been educated at the best schools and sent to university at Oxford, but his father had been more interested in his property than his children and it had taken one dark rainy November night, and the bite of a vampire, before Spike had found a family. Even if it had been a somewhat dysfunctional one.
Today, more than 200 years later sunlight was still what Spike craved most. More than blood, more than Drusilla, he wanted to be able to walk in the sun again. His only oportunity, eight months ago now, had been the Gem of Amarra, lost forever now due to the self-pitying sacrafice of his Sire. The closest he could get to the sunlight now was Buffy. Since the first time he'd seen her, dancing in the Bronze, she'd reminded him of the day. Sunlight in a human form, he'd decided once, she glowed.
But, like the sun, Buffy was not attracted to the night anymore. Instead she was being drawn further and further into the daytime world of Sunday picnics and picket fences, barbecues and families. Spike's only source of light was gradually slipping away.
In a way Spike was glad. The Slayer would certianly survive longer in Riley's world than his own but even so he couldn't shake the desire to reach out and touch the sunlight, even though he would be burned as Angel was.
Of course he never shared his wish with anyone. He was a master vampire, feared and hated by mortal and immortal alike for his gruesome reputation. He'd achieved his place in the hierachy early on in his life. Controlling his demon within a few months of his change he'd used his considerable intelligence to pick and choose his fights. When Angel had left, victim of a Gypsy curse which restored his soul, Spike had grabbed control of the clan, and he'd kept control for a hundred years, resisting attack after attack by dealing with any threat in the bloodiest, most violent way possible.
But now everything had changed. He was impotent, neutered, controlled by a chip in his head which prevented him from feeding, and he'd been forced to throw himself on the mercy of the slayer. Secretly he would admit that at first he'd hoped she would stake him, the demon's survival instinct was too great to allow him to do it himself, but she hadn't. Instead she'd taken him in, taunted him incessantly about being defanged and then agreed to let him help her patrol, on the dubious grounds that any violence was better than none, and somewhere along the way their dubious truce had developed into trust, even if it was only on a professional basis.
Since then Spike had watched her burgeoning romance with Riley develop into something more serious, for Riley at least, with dark foreboding. In Spike's opinion the Slayer was unwittingly using Riley as a security blanket. She didn't want to be alone and Riley was as far away from Angel as she could get. He was nice and normal Spike thought sardonically…and boring as hell, added a small voice in the back of his head but the Slayer didn't seem to mind that.
Spike sat on the Slayer's bed, face for once relaxed and sulked.
"Where the hell is she?" He demanded of the empty air.
He hated waiting, it was dull and he was easily bored. Two hundred years of life had failed to cure his tendancy to lose interest fast and to bore easily. He rarely stuck at anything for long. Drusilla being the obvious exception. Drusilla…even now, almost a year after he'd last seen her she prayed on his mind. He missed her, he didn't mind admitting it to himself. Like the slayer he didn't function well alone. And he was truly alone now.
At that moment the door opened and Spike turned to face the door, before groaning internally.
Buffy came through the doorway backwards, liplocked to Riley and completely oblivious to the world around her. It was perfectly obvious what was about to happen next and Spike contemplated waiting a few moments before announcing his presence. After all, he might be unable to kill humans anymore but at least he could still embarrass them.
He discarded the idea. However fun it might be, the Slayer would not be happy and would complain, whine and sulk for the entire patrol. Spike had never been to Hell but he had a pretty good idea what it was like and in his opinion Buffy in a bad mood was worse.
He coughed meaningfully.
Buffy cringed, blushed an appealing deep red and pulled herslef away from Riley quickly.
"Sp…William!" She said brightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Thursday night Buffy." Spike replied shortly.
Buffy blushed.
"I…er..it is?" She quavered. "Sorry, I forgot."
"Obviously." Spike replied. "Shall we go?" Spike stood up, his face the impassive, arrogant mask he wore around people who were not the Scooby gang or the slayer.
"Right, go, good." Buffy answered, scooting around for her patrol bag. Then she turned to Riley, smiled, and launched into the record one millionth lie of their relationship.
"I'm sorry Riley, history tutoring. I forgot." She smiled gently at him, internally wondering just how gullible this guy could be. If she told him she and Giles were going to Las Vegas to be married by an Elvis impersonator he'd believe her, and ask her when she'd be home for dinner.
Riley smiled his nice, normal, boring…no, not boring, dull? no…safe smile at her.
"Ok Buffy. Lunch tomorrow."
Buffy smiled, sighed internally and nodded.
"Sure." She said with a passable imitation of enthusiasm.
Truly, Buffy didn't dislike Riley all that much. He was safe and normal and dependable but he was also dull, boring and normal. He didn't make her stomach do flip flops when he smiled, he didn't make her knees weak when he touched her and although his kisses were warm they didn't set her on fire. They'd been dating for six months and although he was getting serious, she wasn't. He was a comfort zone, a good place to be after Angel but nothing else.
Buffy knew perfectly well that Riley was ready to take their relationship further, the whole "sex thing" had been becoming a real issue recently but she just wasn't interested. Buffy sighed, maybe she really was as frigid as Parker had said. Since Angel there had been no one who made her feel the way he had. Scott, Parker and Riley were all substitutes. Sure Riley was sweet and nice and she liked him but she would never love him. Buffy only jonsed for the undead and she'd come to terms with it. She was a necrophiliac, plain and simple.
But Angel wasn't and couldn't be around and she wasn't exactly ready to contemplate his only viable replacement. Spike might be, temporarily, on the side of the white hats but he was still an evil, sadistic bloodsucking fiend. Even if he did have cheek bones to die for, and that wonderful laugh when he saw something funny, ok his sense of humour did tend to be a little more…violent, than other people's, but no one was perfect.
Buffy glanced sideways at her partner as they strolled together through Restfield Cemetary looking for the rising undead. He had barely spoken since they left her dorm and was not looking too happy.
"Something wrong?" She asked.
Spike turned and looked down at her. He seemed to think for a moment then said,
"No."
"Wow, you're Mister Chatty tonight. What's up?"
Spike grimaced.
"Slayer," He ground out. "There is nothing wrong." Then he paused, and decided he deserved a venting session.
"But if there were, it might have something to do with you acting like a bitch in heat around that bloody whelp."
Buffy stood still rigid with shock.
"What?" She managed to demand.
Spike turned round to stare at her, eyes golden.
"Some wankers have taken away my life, Buffy, my only means of survival. And do you punish them? Do you even try to find them? No, you're to busy shagging Mister Normality to give a flying fuck! Because of you I've lost the respect of my kind and I'm forced to work for the Slayer." His voice sneered over the last word.
"I hate everything about my life, especially that my only real friend is my mortal enemy and she doesn't even care enough to turn up on time for patrol!"
Buffy stared at Spike as if he'd grown another head.
"Spike, that's not fair." She managed to say.
"It's not only fair, Slayer, it's true. When I came to you, you took delight in making my life a living hell. You fed me blood in a fucking Kiss the Librarian mug!" He yelled at her.
Buffy glared at him.
"What was I supposed to do? Slit my wrist and offer myself on a plate." She demanded. Suddenly the mood changed and a cold breeze cut through the balmy Californian night.
"You did for Angel." Spike's answer was so quiet she almost didn't hear it. She stared into his eyes as they turned back to blue before turning away to stare out over the cold empty graveyard.
"You're not Angel." She said.
Spike suddenly saw red. Game face descending he seized Buffy roughly by the arm and pulled her around. Just before he violently smashed his lips against hers he said.
"No, I'm not that bloody whelp either."
Buffy had never felt anything like Spike's mouth against hers. Blistering cold against her heat. She opened her mouth against his as his tongue swept in exploring her. She came to her senses.
She pulled away from him, panting, her body heaving.
"What the hell are you doing?" She yelled. "I have a boyfriend."
"Who you don't love." Spike said reasonably, restored to a good mood by her reaction to him.
"I know I don't but…" Buffy's voice drained away as she realised what she'd said and she went pale. "I mean…I..." She shrugged and looked down defeated. "I don't know what I mean."
Spike smiled gently, game face still evident, and pulled her into his arms. Gently he rubbed her back and kissed the top of her hair.
"I know pet, but we'll figure it out."
Buffy smiled hesitantly and put her arms round him.
"Spike, I…" She caught a glimpse of a movement behind her, a blackclad commando stepped into view from the shadow behind a mausoleum. Buffy gasped and Spike turned to watch as they were surrounded by four more commandos. One of them lifted a taser.
The world went black.
**********
"And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger,
At whose approach ghosts wandering here and there
Troop home to churchyards. Damnèd spirits all
That in crossways and floods have burial
Already to their wormy beds are gone:
For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
They wilfully themselves exile from the light,
And must for aye consort with blackbrowed night."
Puck, A Midsummer Night's Dream
**********
Chapter Two, Frangeranno i Denti, Break the Locks
Home Pictures Humour Fanfiction Fan Art
Episode Guide Interviews My Favorite Episode
Links
