** All characters belong to the awesomeness that is Joss Whedon, I'm just playing with his toys :) - Enjoy!**


It was raining when the bus reached Los Angeles; it was fitting considering the events that had occurred only the night before. Buffy wiped the remnants of tears from her face and stepped off the bus, taking shelter from under the covered bus stop. She was determined to be strong, ad that meant no more tears. She'd just find a place to stay, and a job, and then go from there. It was obvious she wasn't wanted anymore in Sunnydale. She'd been expelled, blamed for a crime she didn't commit, and kicked out of her own house by her mother. Buffy had lost everything and there was just no getting it back . . . like Angel. She'd never see him again, she killed him. He had a soul and she killed him. Holding back a sob that threatened to escape, she peered at a map of the city and found a motel that was just a few blocks away. It looked like she was going to get wet.

Even raining, five o' clock was a busy time for L.A. Buffy found herself feeling increasingly uncomfortable making her way through the crowded streets. Her hair was sticking to her face, her clothes were drenched, and her makeup was smeared around her eyes by the time she walked up to the counter in the cheap motel. The old woman didn't even notice her disheveled state, just asked for the nightly rate and handed her a key. Buffy nodded her thanks, and resolved to look for a job the next day; she only had enough cash for about a week in the motel. She unlocked her door, ignoring the unsettling sounds coming from the room next door. Why do motel walls have to be so thin? She wondered absently as she set down her bag. She hadn't showered since the day before, so that was first on her agenda.

Gathering up her shower supplies, Buffy went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She set down her clothes on the slightly grimy counter. When she looked up, she nearly gasped at how horrible she looked. Her wet hair was hanging lankly around her pale face, her eyes were red from crying, and her makeup was smeared down her cheeks. Buffy couldn't stop the tears from pooling in her eyes. Wiping angrily at her eyes, she ignored the horrible aching feeling in her chest, and turned on the shower. The water was lukewarm at best, but it didn't matter at that moment. Quickly showering, Buffy scrubbed fiercely at her skin, hoping that she could just wash away everything that happened. It didn't work, but she did feel a little better.

After dressing and drying her hair, Buffy looked to see what time it was. The sun was going to set any minute now. She dug around in her bag for a ponytail holder and put her hair up in a tight ponytail, then dug around some more for a couple of stakes. Buffy slipped them into her pockets and then stared out the window, waiting for the sun to set. She may have lost everything else, but she'd always be The Slayer. At least she had that to fall back on.


Spike cursed at himself for not having any whiskey in his car. It was a whiskey night. He was going to go on a blackout binge when he reached L.A. He'd hardly made it out of Sunnydale when Drusilla woke up and violently attacked him in the car. He'd nearly crashed his Desoto before he calmed her down enough for her to explain what was wrong. She raved at him, telling him that he was just covered in The Slayer, that he was gripped in her tendrils of light and was burning up for her. He wasn't her dark, deadly boy anymore. Spike had begged for her to stay, so they could work things out in Brazil, but she just slapped him, her nails scraping against his cheek, causing blood to run down him face. She threw open the door and hissed in pain as the sunlight hit her skin. Even though she'd just hit him, Spike pulled her back in and slammed the door shut. She squirmed in his grip, calling him all sort of nasty names. Finally he convinced her that he would let her off at the subway station so she could go to Brazil by herself.

Tears stung in his eyes, but he ignored them, replacing the sadness with anger at the bloody bint. He'd done everything for her. HER! And this was how she repaid him? Ungrateful bitch! He growled, but visibly relaxed when he saw the sign, beckoning him to the City of Angels. More like City of the walking happy meals. Nobody noticed when somebody went missing from the wrong side of the tracks. He grinned as he parked his car at a popular demon bar. Before he stepped inside the building, he spotted a person scurrying into the alley behind the bar, probably hoping for a faster way home. A wicked grin lit up the blonde's face as he took a detour from the bar and followed the person. He was silent in his approach, the young girl completely unaware of his presence until it was too late. He grabbed her and smashed her back against the brick wall. She started to scream, but he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Ah-ah, none of that now. It'll be quick, you're just a meal," her eyes widened even more in fear and he leaned over and vamped out. He had barely sunk his fangs into her neck when a glass bottle was thrown at his head. Spike lurched forward, startled enough that he let go of the girl he'd started feeding on, and she ran off. Growling in annoyance, Spike whirled around, face still vamped out.

Buffy had started to advance on the vampire, when he turned around. Her heart lurched into her throat as she recognized him. What the heck was he doing here?

"Spike?" She asked with confusion evident in her tone. He was shocked to see her too. He'd figured the girl was dead; it certainly hadn't been looking good for her when he'd left with Dru. His face transformed back into his non-vamped out one, he didn't even notice.

"Buffy?" He asked, too caught up to realize he'd called her by her name and not Slayer. She quickly reassembled her face into an indifferent mask, covering up her confusion.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, wondering why she hadn't staked him yet. Her curiosity was just getting the better of her. That wasn't exactly a good thing, but she knew she could take him if he tried anything.

"I could ask you the same thing, pet," He said as he slowly walked towards her when he didn't see any visible stakes. Didn't mean she didn't have any, but he'd at least see her going for it. "Thought you were busy killing your man?"

"And I thought you were busy running off with Drusilla?" She asked him, a slight hint of snark in her tone. This was just bizarre. She lost everything she wanted, and then ends up with Spike in an alley with her. The life of a Slayer was bizarre to say the least.

"You shut your mouth! It's your fault I'm not!"

"How is it MY fault!"

"That bloody truce with you! She's convinced I don't love her anymore. She says I'm all covered in you!" He snarled at her, ready to sock her in the face. Maybe he should just kill her.

"Oh yeah? I've lost EVERYTHING and you're complaining because your ho of girlfriend dumped you! I had to kill my boyfriend, got expelled and kicked out of my own house, and you are standing here complaining that something else is MY fault! You're beyond pathetic."

"Me? You're the one complaining about how screwed up your life is to a vampire. Boohoo. You're the pathetic one, luv."

"I am NOT your love!" She screamed at him and punched him in the face. She'd had enough. For some reason Spike just brought out almost painfully strong feelings in her. His head snapped back with the force of her blow, and he growled at her before delivering an equally painful punch to her face. She brought her hand to her lip, and it came away with blood on it. Blood was trailing out of Spike's nose, and he vamped out, angrily wiping the blood away. For some reason this was the last straw and they both practically flew at each other in a whirlwind of punches and kicks. Their anger at the situations they were in spurred them on. This fight was going to last until they were both broken and bleeding on the ground.

Buffy had Spike's back against the wall after a kick into his chest, and she followed up with a flurry of punches. Spike couldn't help but be turned on by her pounding against his flesh. Fighting her had always made him horny, but tonight . . .

He didn't finish the thought, just grabbed Buffy's incoming fist and threw her across the alley and into nearby trashcans. She groaned as she tried to get up, but Spike grabbed her by the upper arm and then punched her in the face. She glared and spit out blood onto his face. He nearly lost it. Her blood smelled divine. Grinning despite the pain his body was wracked with, he licked off her bloody spit. She made a disgusted face, and then kicked him between the legs. He dropped her and fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Buffy hit her head on the concrete and the world became fuzzy. She fought for consciousness, but then she fell back down, giving up the losing battle with staying alert.

Spike struggled to sit up, but the pain from the fight was finally getting to him. They'd beat each other to a bloody pulp, and exhaustion was taking over. Not caring anymore about what happened to him, he curled up in a ball and fell asleep next to the unconscious Slayer. He was too tired to even try killing her.


More coming soon! Tell me whatcha think?