SquidgeWorld Archive

Author: Elizabeth Wilde/Gabrielle Collins/Gabby Spike
Title: Temptation Waits
Distribution: Anyone who asks for it, the Vampire Hunter D Archives, http://www.biteyourtongue.net/wilde [my site]
Disclaimer: I do not own any VHD or Buffy characters or the song "Temptation Waits" by Garbage.
Wish I owned all of 'em, but all I've got is the concept of the story. Oh, and Dracula
ain't mine either.
'Ship: some Buffy/D
Classification: general (has humor, romance, drama, action... I'm just that good)
Summary: D comes to Sunnydale to help Buffy fight Dracula once again.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: through "Dracula" on Buffy
Feedback: to velvet_wild@yahoo.com

Buffy traced the shape of the cross around her neck with absent fingers. She smiled slightly,
remembering when Angel had given it to her. //So long ago...//

//How many years? God, at least ten... It feels like forever.// So much had changed since.
Willow and Tara had married once California passed the law making same-sex marriage legal, then
had moved to New York for a change in scenery. She still got letters gushing about how happy
they were. Anya had taken over running the magic shop after Giles was killed by an upstart gang
of vampires with something to prove. Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat at the thought
of her mentor's death. //I should have been there...//

But she pushed the thoughts away. She hadn't known, and she had taken out every member of the
gang afterwards, pushing all her friends and loved ones away in her frenzy for vengeance,
including Riley, who had left town. //When was the last time I heard from him?// It had to
have been at least a year. Maybe two. Buffy sighed softly. Xander had left Sunnydale as well,
moved to San Francisco and married a nice, normal pastry chef with blonde hair and blue eyes.

//Spike and Anya. They're all I've got.//

Spike remained a mystery to her. They had formed an at-first uneasy cease-fire and had
eventually settled into a full-blown truce. When she needed him, he came, helping as best he
could with the chip still in his head. They talked, patrolled together sometimes, and he was
the closest thing to a friend she had left since Anya blamed the Slayer for driving Xander away
despite any lack of a logical reason for doing so.

A noise toward the back of the cemetery broke her reverie and the Slayer's head snapped up, eyes
instantly picking out an impossibly tall figure walking in her direction. //Bet he thinks he's
hot stuff stalking around here in all black... and a cape... and the weirdest hat...// She
frowned. There was something odd about the man, something odd and vaguely familiar. "Who are
you?" she called as he drew closer, wishing her tone sounded less uncertain, more commanding.

He remained silent, and as he drew closer, Buffy could make out the outline of a sword slung
holstered on his back. //And here I thought stakes were still all the rage.// "What do you
want?" she demanded, this time managing something more of her usual self-assurance. The man was
armed and not talking, which automatically gave him a label to the Slayer. //Trouble.//

Finally he stood a few feet away and Buffy could see dark eyes peering out from under the hat,
though the man's face was obscured by the collar of his cloak. "Last call for introductions
before I start killing you," she warned, unsure why she even bothered.

"My name is D."

"Well that just clears it right up for me. Thanks ever so much." //So he can talk... and not
such a bad voice either...// "Here looking all armed and mysterious for a reason or is it just
something you get off on?"

"Years ago you fought and defeated Count Dracula."

"Yeah... And?" Buffy could feel tension building in her shoulders. Fighting Dracula had proved
harder even than fighting Angelus. //He had so much control over me...//

"He is on his way here."

//Shit!// "So you're... what? One of his flunkies? The new Renfield? I don't have time for
flunkies. If he wants me, he'd damn well better come and get me him-"

"I'm a vampire hunter."

"Oh." Buffy's brow furrowed. "But Slayers are women. And there's already two of us." //Even
if one of us is in prison.//

He nodded, a gesture so subtle that anyone not watching with almost painful intensity might have
missed it. "I am not a Slayer, merely a hunter."

"Oh. Okay." Buffy allowed herself to relax slightly, leaning back against a nearby mausoleum
and pushing her long blond hair back behind her ears. "So you've got some kind of bone to pick
with the Count?"

"Something like that."

"Good then. I've been short of backup lately." //To say the least.// "I'm kind of assuming
you know who I am already. Wouldn't be here otherwise, right?"

"You're Buffy Summers. You're the Slayer."

"Those are the basics, yeah. So do you just like the air of mystery that hiding behind all that
fabric gives you or are you some kind of deformed demon? Not that I'd mind if you were. I just
like knowing what my friends look like."

The man hesitated a moment, then pulled off his hat and folded down his collar. Buffy couldn't
help but to let her eyes go a little wide. He was gorgeous. Long auburn hair spilled down into
his cloak. His features were angular and refined. And vaguely familiar. She tilted her head
to the side. "I could swear I've seen you somewhere before..."

D's dark eyes moved from her face to the ground and then back again. "Dracula is my father."

"But vampires can't have children," Buffy protested immediately.

"They can."

Buffy almost tried to continue the argument, but it was obvious that she wasn't going to get
very far. //A man of few words to say the least.// "So a couple vamps got together and-"

"My mother was human."

"Oh-kay." Frowning, the Slayer tried to figure out how D's story fit into her knowledge of
vampires. "I'm beginning to think I've been fighting the low-end models all this time," she
finally concluded with a sigh. "So vampires can have children?"

"Yes."

"With humans?"

"Yes."

"And where does that leave you? How much do you take after daddy dearest, if you catch my
drift?" He seemed suddenly uncomfortable, so Buffy continued, "No need to be shy. I used to
date a regular ol' bumpy-faced vamp. Hell, my only friend now is one. This is just for Buffy's
useless information file, okay?"

"I do crave blood, but I do not need it to survive. And then there's..." D pulled off his left
glove and held the hand out toward her, palm up.

"Hel-lo there, sweet thing! What brings a pretty girl like you to a nasty place l-Hey!"

D quickly tugged the glove on again. "I'm sorry. He... is a bit uncivilized."

"You... have a talking face in your hand." Buffy somehow managed to keep her voice completely
level.

"Yes."

"Nice. D, has anyone ever told you that you're a very... interesting person?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Many people have."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy pulled her jacket off the second they entered her apartment and threw it down on her coffee
table. "Feel free to sit anywhere you'd like. And to push anything that's thrown where you
want to sit onto the floor," she added, realizing with a sudden flash of embarrassment that the
apartment was a sty. "I don't spend a lot of time on housework."

Without a word, D moved to a chair that had relatively few things piled onto it. Lifting the
shirt, bra, and plate that occupied the chair, he set them onto the coffee table and sat down.
Buffy could feel her face growing hot. "Sorry about that."

His gaze shifted from studying the room to her face. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"You're just too nice," she replied, walking into the kitchen area. "Want some coffee or
something?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself. If I'm going to stay awake through hearing whatever the hell fang boy is up to
now, I need caffeine." There was complete silence in the apartment as she made the coffee, but
it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Buffy was more used to silence than conversation, and D's
presence did not compel her to speak. In fact, she felt at ease as she went about her usual
nighttime routine of coffee in the living room, something that generally preceded a second shift
of patrolling or a visit from Spike.

"So," Buffy finally said, breaking the silence as she settled onto the couch and curled her legs
beneath her, "Dracula's having himself a little comeback tour, eh?"

"Something like that, yes. He seems to have a certain fascination with you, actually."

Buffy took a sip of her coffee. "I just have all the luck. Question: How did you find out Drac
was on his way?"

"I pay attention."

Deciding a full inquisition would be useless and time-consumming, Buffy replied, "Fair enough."
The Slayer tilted her head. "So what does he want? Revenge because I kicked his ass way back
when?"

"A companion, a bride. You."

"Yay. That's just... wonderful. Really. I *so* need some creep fixating on me right now... no
offense."

"None taken."

"But he is a creep."

"At times."

Buffy nodded her approval of the response. "Another question: Why do you want to off your dad?"

D allowed himself a slight smile. "I don't exactly. I bear him no ill will. I will not let
him harm you, however."

"Because I'm just such a nice girl?"

"Because of all the good you can do the world."

"You know, women who complain that men only care about them because they're pretty should see
what I have to put up with. People only help me because I'm the Slayer." Buffy laughed at her
own bitterness. "Sorry. Old rant that was just dying to come out. Alright, so Drac shows up
and... we stake him? Because that really didn't seem to do the job last time."

"We will have to be more thorough than that. First his head must be removed, then both his body
and head burned. Then, his ashes much be scattered."

"They just can't make this easy, can they? Gotta be all complicated and stupid about it."
Buffy sighed and let her head fall back against the couch, forcing her muscles to relax. "Okay,
fine. We do the ritualistic stuff. When should he be here?"

"He should arrive tonight. We will face him tomorrow."

Buffy sighed again. "Goody."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You can take the bed. I'll do the couch thing tonight," Buffy told her new partner, rising to
clear the couch of its clothes and other random debris. "I wouldn't wish this on fang boy
himself."

"I'll be fine on the couch. Thank you. I sleep very little."

"You sure? I mean, it's not exactly a nice couch. It's sort of lumpy and old and... then
there's the fact that it's brown plaid. I bought it at a garage sale." Buffy shifted
uncomfortably and smiled. "On the sad side."

"It will be fine."

She shrugged. "If you insist. I'm certainly not gonna force you to be comfortable," she added
with a quiet laugh. "Night, D. See you dark and late tomorrow."

"Good night." He watched as she walked into the adjoining room and shut the door. A sudden
muffled outburst from his left hand drew his attention, and D removed his gloves. "Yes?"

"For God's sake, man, have you absolutely no sex drive whatsoever?" At D's pointed glare, the
symbiot merely continued, "The woman is obviously attracted to you. And she made sure to ever-
so-casually mention that she's had relations with a vampire before. And did you *look* at her?
No wonder your father is obsessed with her!"

"I am concerned for her safety. We are working together. Anything else-"

"Is something that any other man with a pulse wouldn't be able to keep his mind off of! She's
got legs up to her neck, eyes a man could drown in and her assets are considera-"

"Stop."

"I'm only saying that-"

"Please stop. It's not possible, and I prefer to keep my mind where it belongs-on keeping her
safe." D lay down on the couch, which was just small enough to leave his legs dangling over its
arm from the knees down. "Go to sleep."

"Oh, very well. But I'm telling you, she-"

"Sleep. Now."

"Yes, Master," the symbiot replied sarcastically before drifting into a sullen silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"C'mon, Slayer, open the bloody door! I can't stand out here with my coat over my head for the
rest of the day! C'MON!" The door swung open and Spike found himself face to face with a
complete stranger. "Where's Buffy?" he asked, pushing past the man and into the slayer's
apartment. He slid the black leather duster back down to his shoulders. "What've you done with
her?"

"Spike, God, can't you just for five minutes try not to be an ass," Buffy chided, walking into
the room, still toweling off her hair, though she seemed otherwise decently attired.

"Who's 'e?"

"Spike, this is D. D, this is Spike. You know how I mentioned my only friend is a vampire?
This would be him," she said, hoping the use of the word "friend" wouldn't go to Spike's head.
"He's not as obnoxious as he seems. Not all the time, anyway."

Choosing to ignore Buffy's comments for better or worse, Spike continued, "What's 'e doing 'ere?"

"You could talk to him yourself, you know." Without waiting for him to do so, she continued,
"D's here to help me fight Dracula."

"Dracula? That wanker doesn't know when to give up, does 'e? We'll take him down a notch. Not
lettin' 'im run around my town anymore. Not still owin' me money! Bloody poof should-"

"You know Dracula?" D asked, speaking for the first time since Spike's entrance.

"We go way back, Drac 'n' me. What's it to ya?" When D made no reply, Spike snorted and sat
down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Doesn't talk much, does 'e?"

"Not really," Buffy replied with a slight smile, sitting down next to the vampire. "D seems to
be the strong silent type." The man in question sat down in a nearby chair. "So, Spike, you
gonna help? You can be lookout or something."

"Hey! I can beat up on vamps with the best of 'em. So long as Drac 'asn't gone human since the
last time 'e came, I have as much a chance against 'im as either of you," Spike protested.

Buffy patted Spike's arm gently. "No arguments here. I just figured me and D would be the
heavy artillery." Before Spike could protest again, she continued, "If you insist on beating
the guy up and taking back your lunch money or whatever, I'm not going to stand in your way."

"That's the spirit, Slayer!" Spike crowed with a broad grin. "We'll go in and kick some ass!"

D spoke again, "This is not a game. Facing Dracula will be difficult, and-"

"He's not so tough as all that. I remember this one time we got ourselves smashed and decided
to duke it out just for kicks. 'E didn't exactly come out o' it without any bruises, mate.
Fact of it is, I kicked 'is ass."

"And he's gotten stronger since then," Buffy reminded him. "He fought me and almost won.
There's not a whole lot of people who can say that. You never came as close as he did." The
Slayer's voice was growing steadily quieter. "He came damn close. Too damn close."

"Hey, now, the bloke just got lucky." Spike put his arm around Buffy's shoulder and gave it a
squeeze. "You got 'im good last time, and you'll do the same this time. Got even better 'elp
than you did then, and you've gotten better too, stronger."

"Older. Spike, I'm not eighteen anymore."

"Not exactly a fossil either, luv."

"For a Slayer, I am." Buffy sighed and laid her head on Spike's shoulder. "Doesn't help that
while I'm over here aging you keep staying young. You could at least have the decency to get a
receding hairline or something," she teased.

"I'll look into it. Maybe get m'self some o' those grandpa pants too, eh?"

"That'd be good." Buffy shook her head and turned to D. "Sorry. We're sort of each other's
moral support network. Not that ol' Spike has any morals. Still, he's a pretty good
therapist. And a very nice pillow."

"Never knew ya thought so much o' me, Slayer."

"Hush, you! Anyway, we're what we've got, so..." she shrugged, "we just sort of spaz out when
we're together. May take some getting used to for you."

"It isn't a problem," D replied quietly.

Buffy caught the faintest hint of sadness in his tone and wondered if it was her own mind trying
to add inflection, emotion where there was none or if it hurt him to see two people who were
close like she and Spike were. //He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who has lots of
friends... or any.// She frowned slightly but decided any further exploration of the subject
would best be done later. "So... tonight, huh?"

"Yes." D's gaze strayed briefly to the clock hanging on the wall. "The sun goes down in five
hours."

"Yeah... So what do we do until then?" she asked, silently praying there wasn't some annoyingly
complicated ancient ritual to perform.

"We wait."

"Oh."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Give me the remote, Spike!"

"But, Slayer-"

"NOW!"

"Bloody 'ell. Just because you can hit me and I can't 'it you--OW!"

Buffy wrenched the remote control out of Spike's hand and turned the CD player off. "God, I
knew I never should have let you bring those Sex Pistol CDs over! If I have to listen to 'My
Way' one more time, I swear I will stake you!"

"You wouldn't do that, Slayer. You like me too damn much. 'Sides, I was just about to ask for
requests. Honestly!"

With a sigh, Buffy looked to D, who had spent a greater part of the three hours since their
previous conversation sitting and watching Buffy and Spike bickering good-naturedly. "How about
you? What's your music of choice?"

"How about some Metallica, babe?" a voice coming from D's general direction suggested in a
boisterous tone.

Spike's brow furrowed. He looked D up and down suspiciously. "What the bloody 'ell was that?"

"Somebody a hell of a lot more interesting than you," the voice retorted with a snort. "More
attractive too, you bleached blond little-"

"That will be quite enough," D said firmly before raising his gaze to Buffy and Spike. "I'm
afraid he doesn't handle boredom well."

Buffy smiled and shrugged. "No big."

"Wait a bloody minute! What is it? What was talking?" He looked almost afraid of the answer.

"Oh, D has this... this face in his left hand. It talks. It's kind of a slimeball, actually.
No offense," she added with a small smile in D's direction.

"None taken. I agree."

"A talking face in 'is hand?" Spike echoed, looking and sounding more than a little disbelieving.

"Yes." D pulled his left hand free of its glove and held it up, palm toward Spike.

"Hello, neighbor!" the symbiot crowed. "D, be a pal and turn me so I can see the girl, huh?
Been awhile since I got an eyeful of anyone with a body like that. C'mon..."

"No." Closing his hand into a fist, D lowered it, then pulled the glove back on. Out of the
corner of his eye, he could see Spike, eyes wide and jaw slightly agape. "Believe me now?"

The vampire blinked, then nodded. "Sure thing, mate. Just... never seen anythin' quite like
that."

"Neither have I," D replied quietly.

"So Metallica is a no," Buffy finally said, breaking the silence. As the silence grew longer,
Buffy moved toward the CD rack, scanning the titles. "How about Sarah McLachlan?" A quick,
firm, "No!" came from Spike and the symbiot, and Buffy sighed. "I should have known better..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just over two hours later, Buffy was half out of her mind and hoping fervently that Spike and
the symbiot would shut up. As it turned out, they were kindred spirits in many ways. Too many
ways. "Amazing how loud you are through leather gloves," Buffy finally commented, glaring at
Spike though she spoke to the symbiot.

"Feisty! I love feisty! Maybe later you can meet me-"

"Quiet. It's time," D interrupted, standing in a motion so fluent that it almost looked as if
he had floated rather than moved. "Are you ready?"

Buffy stood as well, grinning mostly from relief that Spike and the symbiot would have to be
quiet, at least for a little while. "Lemme grab my favorite ancient sword, a fashion accessory
every girl should have." She returned a moment later with a sword and scabbard strapped around
her waist and her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Let's go kick his ass."

"That's the spirit!" Spike followed just behind Buffy. "Now this is gonna be fun!"

"Assuming we don't all die horrible deaths... yeah, it'll be a party," the Slayer responded as
they exited her apartment. "And I for one have no intention of giving fang face the
satisfaction."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, could this guy be just a little more conspicuous? I mean, how is someone not going to
notice this place?" Buffy asked, staring up at the sprawling, castle-like mansion and ignoring
the fact that she had overlooked it herself until D led them there. "It's bigger than the last
one!"

"Dracula is not known for his subtlety," D responded.

"You can say that again," Spike snorted.

"Or his taste. This place needs a coat of paint and a decorator stat." The slayer squared her
shoulders and took a deep breath. "You boys ready to rumble?"

"Ready an' willing, Slayer."

"I am ready."

Buffy pulled her sword free of its sheath. "Then let's give Dracula a big, old fashioned
welcome home killing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second they entered the castle, Buffy moved with certainty toward its east side. "He's
there. I know it. I can feel him," she informed her companions with no small trace of disgust.
Neither man dared question her words, and soon they were standing in the doorway of a large room
decorated with lavish tapestries and antique furniture. Dozens of candles provided the room's
only light. At the opposite end of the room stood a tall, elegant man with long, dark hair.
Though his back was turned, there was no question as to his identity.

"I knew you vould come."

Buffy stepped inside the opulently furnished drawing room and nodded. "Yeah, we sorta figured.
You don't get a pad like this if you aren't planning on entertaining. But this time I wasn't
stupid enough to come alone. Count Dracula, meet my back-up."

The vampire turned slowly and gazed at the group. A smile spread across his face. "Your choice
ov allies is... interesting, my dear."

"Not many make it past the stringent application and interview process," Buffy quipped, stepping
forward, sword in hand. "Tell you what, you surrender now, I'll make sure I take your head off
with the first blow."

"I am afraid that is not part of my plan," Dracula replied impassively, hands clasped behind his
back.

Spike pushed past Buffy and strode across the room, strutting as though he had no fear.
"Happens to be part of ours, though, mate."

"Ah, Villiam. It is lovely to see you again. You look vell."

Spike let out a short, derisive laugh and tired to look threatening. "Cut the bull, Drac. No
time for it. I'm 'ere to kill you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Spike-"

"Slayer, I can 'andle this."

Buffy glared daggers at the vampire, who didn't even bother to turn around. "If you get yourself
staked, I am //so// not getting the Dustbuster out to take you home!"

"Relax, I have everything-" Faster than the eye could see, Dracula's fist flew toward Spike's
face, and the bleached-blond fell to the ground with a muffled thump.

"Not the most artful vay of doing things, but it is effective, and somehow fitting in this
case," Dracula commented, his dark gaze returning to Buffy, eyes challenging her to approach.

"I don't take real kindly to people punching my friends. Especially since they're in damn short
supply lately." Buffy stalked forward, standing beside Spike's unconscious form. She raised
her sword and smiled grimly. "Let's see you try that on me."

"I don't believe there vill be any need for your veapon," the vampire said slowly.

Buffy felt instantly the familiar pull inside her mind, felt her arms lowering the sword. She
fought back, raising the sword again. "I don't think so. Not again. I won't... I..."

"You vill. Place your sword on the ground. You von't need it."

"I... I'm not falling for it," Buffy ground out even as she lowered the sword to the floor.
"Dammit!" She rose again, hands empty.

"Come to me..."

"Leave her alone." The words were quiet, spoken in a soft, normal tone, as if the speaker had
no need of yelling.

"Stay back. As you have no qualms killing me, so I have none toward killing you." Dracula's
arms reached out and jerked Buffy against him, in the process taking a large step forward. "She
is mine," he snarled. "She has been mine since the first time I visited her. Before that.
Perhaps since before time... she is my destiny."

"Leave her alone," D repeated, moving closer. "She belongs only to herself."

"A moving sentiment, certainly. A foolish one as vell. Ve all belong to someone." As he
spoke, Dracula ran one tapered finger down the veins in Buffy's neck. She obediently leaned her
head to the side, eyes falling closed.

D pulled his sword free of the sheath across his back. Deep blue eyes burned from under the
wide brim of his hat. "I won't let you hurt her."

Dracula laughed aloud at that, dark eyes dancing. "You von't let me? My dear boy, the decision
is not yours. It is mine."

"It is hers. I do not wish to fight you."

"That is vell. Do not fight me. Vhat reason do you have to fight for her life, my son?" the
vampire asked, one hand splayed over Buffy's stomach, the other holding her arm fast. "Perhaps
you vish to have her for yourself? Hmm? You look disapproving. You cannot tell me the thought
has not crossed your mind. She is beautiful, strong, intelligent." Dracula moved as if he would
bite the woman in his arms, then raised his gaze to D. "You see her passion, her life. You
vant it for yourself. You vant her."

D remained silent, face impassive, body poised for a fight, sword held at the ready.

"Your silence speaks volumes. Enough talk. If you vant her, fight for her. If you do not,
leave us be and save yourself the trouble." Dracula leaned in once again, his intent more than
obvious.

D raised his sword, moving to one side of the vampire to decrease any chance of injuring Buffy
in the attempt, but before he completed the motion, Dracula's head was sliced cleanly off from
behind.

Whatever power Dracula held over her gone, Buffy blinked, then shrugged off the corpse.
"Eeeew." She looked shaken but uninjured.

"That's what ya get for punchin' me in the face, mate," Spike said smugly, glaring down at the
corpse, then smiling at Buffy, her bloodied sword still in his hand. "You alright, luv?"

"I'm... good. Alive. Alive is good." Her brow suddenly furrowed. "He didn't dust. Of
course." The slayer rolled her eyes. "Figures. We get to find a place to burn the thing
now." Another thought suddenly occurred to her and her slightly wide blue-green eyes fixed on
D. "Are you okay? I mean, he was-"

"I am fine."

Buffy nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll take care of this. You don't have to."

Ignoring her words, D said, "There was a marble table in the other room. We can burn the body
there."

"Alright, then," Spike said, "you take the feet, mate, and I'll get the shoulders. Slayer, you
take the head."

"Yea. Since when are you in charge anyway?" Buffy grumbled, picking up Dracula's head by the
hair. Together, they took the count's remains and laid them on the marble table.

Spike pulled a lighter out of his pocket and looked to his companions. "So, who gets the
honors?"

D held out his hand and Spike handed him the lighter as if it were an object of power.
Silently, D touched the flame to various points on the body until it was burning steadily. He
handed the lighter back to Spike. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is... weird," Buffy said as she stood between D and Spike near Spike's crypt. "Should
we... say something? A eulogy? I mean, he's... he's Dracula," she finally said with a shake of
her head. "Just dumping him in the cemetery doesn't seem quite... right. Maybe we could-"
Before she could say more, D purposefully upended the vase containing Dracula's ashes, moving it
from side to side until it was empty. Some of the ash was caught and pulled away from the
ground, the rest left to feed future generations of trees. "Or you could just dump it."

Spike watched the ceremony with vague interest, then shifted from foot to foot. "Well, looks
like we're done, then. It was good meetin' you an' all," he said to D. "Maybe next time you're
'round, we can go 'ave a beer or somethin'. Anyway... Later, Slayer." With a slight wave, the
vampire turned and entered the crypt.

"Sorry he's so... well, sorry," Buffy said after Spike was gone. She watched the ashes blowing
quietly in the wind for a moment before looking over at D. "I guess... guess you're leaving
now, huh?"

"Yes. There's no reason for me to stay."

"Yeah. No reason..." The Slayer shifted uncomfortably, then ran her hands over the back of her
crossed arms to warm them. "Getting too chilly to just be standing out here staring. And it's
getting a little close to morning to be out playing, right? I mean, you can stay until tomorrow
night, right?" There was a note of hope in Buffy's voice that even she might not have been
able to fully explain if pressed.

D slowly nodded. "That would... make sense."

"Good," Buffy replied, smiling. "It's good having somebody who, y'know, who gets it," she
explained as they walked back toward her apartment. "I mean, Spike does more than most people,
I guess, but... I mean, it's not just some job I can quit. Slaying isn't, I mean. It's my
birthright or fate or whatever. I can't get away from it. It's something I have to do." She
stopped and blushed slightly. "Is it like that for you? Sort of? Atoning for... for who your
dad is... was?"

Looking faintly surprised, D replied, "Yes. Yes, that is what it's like. I don't think... I
don't think I've ever spoken to anyone who knew."

"I'm insightful that way." She paused to unlock the door to her apartment, then walked inside,
throwing herself down on the couch and patting the cushion to her left. "Last chance for a
slayer-to-hunter heart-to-heart. I know you don't talk much, but... maybe it would be... fun?"

After a moment of hesitation, D sat down beside her, looking uncomfortable, hands folded in his
lap. "I... don't talk... much."

"Try ever," the symbiot's distinctly muffled voice complained from his lap. "I've known mute's
who were more verbal!"

Buffy glared at D's hand. "Nobody invited you to be part of the conversation. Hush!" she
ordered firmly. "I'm talking with D." Looking back up at the vampire hunter, she grinned a
little. "That must be fun to live with."

"You have no idea." He paused for a moment. "Are feeling alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Not a scratch."

"I meant... It couldn't have been easy to be under his control again."

"Oh. That." Buffy blinked and looked away, hands twisting together absently. "It was... not
fun. I don't like not being the person who decides what I do. It scares me. I've lost it
before without his help. I just can't help but think what could happen... I have a lot of
power. Strength, at least. Somebody could get hurt. Because of me." Her voice wavered
slightly. "They have before. My... my Watcher, the one who trained me... he... a bunch of
vamps killed him."

Tears glistened in Buffy's eyes and finally spilled down her cheeks. "I wasn't there. All my
goddamn Slayer strength did me a Hell of a lot of good. He died and... and I couldn't stop it.
There wasn't anything that..." Sobs shook her shoulders until an arm wound around them. Buffy
felt shocked to realize that D was comforting her. Unable to hold back her grieving any longer,
she relaxed against him, burying her face in his chest and crying with abandon.

Finally the tears stopped and Buffy's shoulders were still. "Thanks," she whispered without
shifting her position. "I needed that. Guess I've needed it for awhile."

"I'm glad it helped."

"It did. A lot." She shifted slightly, moving so that her head was lying on his shoulder in a
familiar, comfortable gesture much like the one she has used with Spike earlier. "So, how about
you? Your turn for painful confessions," she said with a sniffle and a quiet laugh.

Buffy was again surprised when D laughed softly. "Even if we spent the rest of tonight and all
tomorrow talking, I think we would run out of time for my painful confessions." He sighed and
seemed to relax slightly against the cushions of the couch. D removed his hat and set it down
on the table in front of them. "Besides, I'd rather listen to you talk," he added in a tone so
gentle that could barely be categorized as a whisper.

"In that case, you can get the full version of my life story, all painful, shocking secrets and
high flying adventures included." Settling in a bit and pulling her legs up onto the couch,
Buffy began, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, intelligent--did I mention beautiful?--
cheerleader named Buffy Summers..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The slayer awoke the next morning curled up on the couch with her head resting on D's lap. She
stirred, then sat up and stretched, smiling over at D, who was already awake. "You make a great
pillow," Buffy informed him with a grin, rising reluctantly from the couch. "As a reward, I'm
going to go take care of my morning breath now, maybe even shower too." With that, she jogged
into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Well that was a fun evening," the symbiot stated with a chuckle. "I can't remember the last
time I got that close to a pretty girl. You really should pick up chicks more often, D."

"We were talking."

"Oh, of course! Silly me... It isn't as if she spent the night using your lap as a pillow...
Oh, wait, yes she did! You can't honestly expect me to believe you're this dense. I know you
better than that. You're falling in love with her. For heaven's sake, you told her you wanted
to listen to her talk. Coming from anyone else, that would have been spotted as a cheesy pick-
up line a mile away!"

"It wasn't a-"

"Of course not. The great, lone hunter would never fall victim to something as silly as a
crush. You don't have emotions or needs. You don't need them. Isn't that right?"

D was silent, but he squeezed his left hand into a fist. "Quiet."

Buffy chose that moment to re-enter the room, smelling of vanilla body wash and coconut shampoo.
She wore a silky-looking black robe. "Clean. Now I'm gonna work on dressed. Then maybe I'll
make us some food."

As soon as she disappeared into her bedroom, the symbiot continued, "You should go in there
after her. I don't think she'd object. Or you can just wait out here. She's going to ask you
to stay longer. Then she's going to make a move. You know hunting, but I know women. She
likes you," he added in a sing-song voice.

"I can't get close to people like that. I could... She could get hurt."

"Not if you keep yourself in check. You try so hard to be human. What's more human than love?"

Before D could formulate a reply, Buffy returned, smiling and wearing a pair of sweat pants and
a white t-shirt that was so threadbare it was almost transparent. "Want a sandwich? I make a
mean grilled cheese."

"Thank you." D's eyes strayed to the window, covered with black curtains that were shut tight
against the light of day. "I should leave when the sun goes down."

The pleasant clatter of food preparation in the kitchen faltered for a moment. "Oh. I was
thinking maybe... maybe you can leave tomorrow night? I'd love to maybe talk some more... if
you want to."

"I... I could stay another night."

"Good! We're just getting to know each other... and I'm horrible about sending Christmas cards,
so..." Buffy shrugged, "I just want to spend as much time together as we can now, y'know? We're
not in low risk jobs." There was no need to say the obvious: Even if they agreed to meet
again, it was entirely likely that one or both of them would be dead before it could happen.
Emerging from the kitchen with two grilled cheeses and barbeque chips, the slayer passed a plate
to D, then sat down on the couch beside him. "Not gourmet cuisine, but I can make it without
burning the house down or making people gag."

They ate in silence which was broken only once by the symbiot again requesting they play
Metallica and Buffy and D vetoing the request with a simultaneous, "No," followed shortly by,
"Quiet!" The last bit of daylight also passed with a relatively small amount of talking, but it
was pleasant nonetheless.

Once the sun went down, Buffy patrolled, joined by D and, once they reached the cemetery, by
Spike, who returned to his crypt as soon as he realized the two were more interested in quiet
discussion than fighting. "Sod this! You two 'ave fun talking. I'm gonna go find something to
kill."

"You just have fun with that," Buffy replied, patting Spike's arm. "The grown-ups are talking."

"Aw, bloody 'ell, Slayer..." Spike began before rolling his eyes in disgust and walking away.

Buffy turned to D and half-smiled. "I'm gonna owe him a pint of blood and a six pack for that
later, plus some cigarettes too if I want him to speak to me again. Worth it, though. How
about we go back to my place, huh?" She grinned at the mildly scandalized look on his face.
"Don't worry--you're just cute when you're shocked." Hooking her arm through D's, Buffy started
walking back toward her apartment. "You hungry?"

"No, thank you."

"Me neither." Buffy threw her keys down on the coffee table and crossed to the CD player,
putting in a worn-looking album and then sitting down on the couch. "Garbage--the name of the
band, that is. It's old, but good. My favorite's this first one." She hummed along with the
tune, finally singing outright in a clear, incongruously innocent voice, "You come on like a
drug, I just can't get enough. I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more. And there's
so much at stake..." Her voice trailed off when she remembered that D was there. "Oh, God...
Sorry. I shouldn't sing. Ever. Especially not around people who aren't deaf. Sorry."

"You have a lovely voice."

"Aw, I bet you say that to all the slayers." Buffy smiled and settled back against the couch
cushions. "So you're really leaving, huh?"

"I need to."

"Yeah... kinda like I need to stay. Home sweet Hellmouth." She sighed and her gaze focused on
the shadows in the corner of the room. Shaking off whatever thoughts had pulled her away, Buffy
reached her hand out and gently ran her thumb over D's cheek. Before he could protest, she
leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, at first with feather-light softness, then more
firmly, her kisses almost fierce in their passion. In one fluid motion, she slid her leg over
his and was straddling his lap.

Despite himself, D threaded the fingers of one hand into her thick blond hair, the other sliding
across the small of her back. He could still smell the sweet scent of the vanilla bodywash on
her skin, and beneath that... His breath caught. Beneath that, there was the intoxicating smell
of her blood, the almost audible rhythm of it pumping through her veins. Knowing that even a
second's hesitation could prove fatal for Buffy, D moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed
her back, eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed together.

Buffy knew the look well. "D... It's okay." Her fingers skated across his face. "You don't
have to be embarrassed. You won't hurt me." One hand moved her hair away from her slender
neck. "Go ahead."

D's eyes opened, glowing with an eerie blue light. He shook his head mutely and pushed her off
of his lap, onto the other side of the couch, then rose and walked quickly to the other side of
the room, a shaking hand reaching up to cover his eyes. Finally he turned back to Buffy, eyes
downcast. "I'm sorry. I... can't. I should go."

"No!" Buffy rose as well, walking over to stand beside him. "I'm not going to let you run out
just because of this. It's not a big-"

"It is."

"To you." Buffy leaned her neck to the side, she pointed to one scar, "Angel," then another,
"Dracula." She let her hair fall back across the scars. "I've been there and done that and
lived to tell the tale." She reached her hand toward D's face. "I trust you."

He caught her hand and moved it down to her side. "I don't. I need to go."

"How about... how about we get some sleep and... and maybe talk tomorrow?" Impossibly large
eyes pleaded along with her voice, "Please?" D nodded slowly and Buffy smiled. "I'll see you
tomorrow. Good night. Morning. Whatever." She began walking toward the bedroom, cast one
final bittersweet smile back toward D. "Tomorrow." After receiving a nod of reply, she
continued on.

"You aren't staying, are you?"

D pulled the glove from his left hand. "No."

"But she said that-"

"I know. She trusts me. Which is why I can't."

"D, you'll never learn to control it if you don't-"

"I won't hurt her."

"Leaving will hurt her."

Unable to find a suitable reply, D pulled his glove back on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy smiled as she stretched the next morning. //Moved too fast last night, but you can do
better.// She was the first to admit that when it came to guys, her track record was, at best,
patchy. //This will be different. I don't know how, but... we'll figure it out.// "Morning,"
she said pleasantly, walking into the living room after going through the usual morning grooming
routine. "How'd you..." The living room was empty.

Something on the table blowing in the current from the air conditioner caught Buffy's eye as she
moved further into the room. //Oh, God...// The note was written in an elegantly slanted hand
that seemed particularly odd given that the ink, which came from the pen Buffy used for writing
grocery lists, was a vibrant pink. She read the note aloud, eyes misting over with tears. "I
had to leave. I'm sorry. I know you understand."