Author's Note: It's been a long time. I've been busy with life and lazy when it comes to my writing. I hope that by getting this written and posted I can sort of get the ball rolling and start writing again. I have another Spuffyfic in progress that I need to get back to but I was more interested in getting this one moving along. I don't know when I will update next but I will do my best to get it done as soon as possible.
Dalton visibly jumped as the metal door of his office flew open and crashed into the wall, "M-master Spike!" he stammered, nearly knocking his chair over as he got to his feet.
"Tell me you've got some good new Dalton, you've been in this bloody office for days"
"I've made progress but some of the pages appear to be in a language that I am unfamiliar with."
Spike picked up a paper and studied it, "Could be one of those dead languages, or something more ancient?" he tossed the paper back onto the desk, "I suggest you get familiar and quick, before my patience wears out."
"In order to continue deciphering these pages there is a book that I need in order to translate them into a more familiar language."
"Well what are you waiting for, find the bloody book and get to work."
Dalton pushed his glasses up his nose, "With all due respect, I'm afraid it isn't quite that easy. While I have located a book that could prove to be useful right here in the high school's library, I have to assume that it is part of the Watcher's private collection and therefore not easy to acquire on my own."
Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Bollocks, probably got it locked up separate from the public materials and I wouldn't put it past the watcher to use magicks on it."
"If he's smart then it probably is, however I'm certain that it couldn't be anything too challenging for me."
Spike nodded, "Suppose I'll send a minion or two to check it out, if they can't nab it we'll just have to go to plan B."
"Very well Master Spike, I'll get everything ready then send Victor and Marcel tonight."
"Fine, I'll be in my room. Don't disturb me unless you've got the book."
Spike stalked out of Dalton's office and marched up the metal staircase to his bedroom which overlooked the entire warehouse. It had two wall length windows, one of which was blacked out with paint and covered with a sheet to keep the sun out. The other window was for keeping an eye on activity downstairs, usually however the minions hung out in the storage room or the lunch room.
It was only two in the afternoon so the warehouse was quiet, most of the minions were sprawled out on the conveyor belts and storage room sleeping.
Spike knew he should be getting some rest too or atleast let Dalton rest but they were finally close to what he'd spent the last 80 years of his unlife tracking down. He couldn't stop, not now. He turned the television on and off several times, frustrated that his soap opera wasn't on but desperate for a distraction from his wandering mind.
Tossing the remote on the floor, he yanked open the top drawer of his nightstand, pulled out a book and tried reading but to no avail. Spike shoved his $2 bill bookmark back between the pages of his book and sighed, he was restless, bored and he hadn't fed in days. His encounter with the Slayer had reminded him of his hunger, the scent of her slayer blood pulsating under her skin after that fight with his minion called to him.
Normally he would have fought the girl, killed her and had his fill of her blood but in the past he only killed Slayers who came after him first, of course nearly every Slayer in the past had searched him out so it wasn't exactly his fault that he'd developed an unusually strong craving for Slayer blood. He'd spent too much time dodging Slayers left and right, it was refreshing to come across one who didn't know who he was.
Eventually, Spike fell asleep. Dreams of a certain blonde slayer danced in his head, taunting him. He dreamt of killing her, of fucking her, of torturing her, and finally of loving her. When he woke up later that night he was determined to learn all he could about her. He would know who this Slayer was and what it was that made her so different from the others, so special.
"Come out, come out wherever you are." She sing-songed, annoyance in her voice.
The graveyards had been uncharacteristically empty of late which she knew was because of this St. Vigorous or whatever. She was only irritated because she hadn't seen much action since her promise not to go looking for trouble. Spike shaped trouble to be exact, whoever this guy was he had both Giles and Angel worried for her safety. Supposedly he'd killed a lot of Slayers in his past, enough to make him one of the most respected vampires in the world. The thing that bothered her was, if he was such a hot shot vampire then why hadn't he killed her that night in the alley? If he was such a powerful foe then why was he waiting until this vampire holiday to come after her? She had so many questions but so few answers.
She sighed, absentmindedly twirling the stake in her hand like a baton as she stepped over a fallen headstone, "What does a Slayer have to do to get a little action in this town?" she grumbled, kicking at the grass.
Behind her a twig snapped, seconds later a vampire was flying towards her while another charged at her from the side. She dodged the first vampire, grabbing the front of his shirt and throwing him to the ground as he sailed past her. The second one succeeded in tackling her to the ground but she quickly kicked him off and sent him flying into a tree trunk.
The first one was back on his feet sneering at her, "Whatsa matter Slayer? We too much action for ya?" he jumped at her.
Buffy side stepped and punch him in the face, knocking him back down, "Actually my night is looking up thanks to you two, I was getting bored out here on my lonesome." She kicked him in the face as he moved to get back up, "If I wasn't about to stake you I'd say we should make this a regular thing."
The second vampire kicked her in the back and sent her sprawling forward but she quickly recovered, spun around and deflected his next attack. A swift kick to the stomach had him doubling over just in time for her knee to connect with his face and then her stake pierced his heart. He stumbled backwards and turned to dust as his buddy came rushing forward. Buffy shoved the stake through his chest as he reached her, arms out to attack.
Buffy dusted her hands off and slid the stake into her back pocket, "Guess that means I'm done for the night."