Problem Is...
Phoenix*Moon
 

"You Are Now Leaving Sunnydale. Please Come Back Soon." Spike couldn't resist; he raised his hand and gave a two-fingered salute to the sign. He wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. He took his eyes off the road for a second and reached for his bottle of Jack Daniel's. He looked up and pulled the wheel to the right, bringing the car back into the correct lane. He opened the bottle of whiskey and gulped some back. My only friend, he thought, smacking his lips and looking at the bottle, stupid bint! Wouldn't know love if it bit her on her cute bloody arse!

He hated her so much. Maybe if he said or thought it often enough and with enough passion, he'd finally convince himself. It hadn't worked yet but maybe if she weren't nearby it would help. Maybe if she didn't burst into his crypt at all hours of the day and night, maybe if she didn't demand his help, a babysitter for Dawn or a quick, "convenient" shag. Maybe if she didn't let him see the pain and sadness in her captivating green eyes, maybe he could hate her. Doubtful, but, maybe. She didn't do anything for him. Oh yeah, except for beat him to a pulp and leave him in some back alley. She left him for dead! Oh, ok, not dead exactly, he already was, but it amounted to the same didn't it? He was only trying to help but it only seemed to lower her opinion of him. Trouble with the Slayer is she's too high and bloody mighty. Can't just accept things. She'd make a bloody terrible vampire.

Vampires are all about change, when you're immortal you gotta learn to accept it. Not the Slayer though, oh no. "What?! Doctors are being replaced by droids?! Noooo!" Thing is though, despite her moaning and treatment of him, he loved her. Arghh! Spike tossed the bottle away and speeded up. She was like a government chip, only more effective. The chip was in his head and controlled his violence outlet. The Slayer on the other hand, she was in his head, heart and under his skin. She made him feel. Not flashes of pain, although her punches came close. No, she made him feel for her and other people. Dru was his Dark Goddess, a beautiful ball of insanity and cruelty. The Slayer was completely different, a hero chock full of humanity. She was gorgeous too, but why did he have to fall in love with her? She was the Slayer for Christ sakes! She was his mortal enemy! What had changed since the days when he had been trying to kill her? Spike allowed himself an ironic chuckle.

"Oh no Slayer," he said out loud, "you're gonna wake up tomorrow morning and I ain't gonna be there. I'm gonna have the time of my life. Beer, birds and spicy buffalo wings and best of all, no Slayer to moan on about me being a pig or an evil thing!"

Yeah, he was on his way to LA. Who knows? Maybe he'd pay Peaches a visit, just to annoy him. A nice drinking spree next, whiskey upon whiskey upon whiskey. Then grab a couple of good-looking girls. Petite, blonde, green eyes – shit! No Buffy lookalikes, wasn't the 'bot enough?

So, they'd be tall, shorter than him though, dark hair – short maybe, with a few red or blue highlights – and brown eyes. Oh and piercings, lots of 'em, foul language would be nice too. Couldn't get further away from the Slayer if he tried. No more Slayer and her daft friends. Bunch of no-gooding do-gooders. Glad to be shot of 'em. Shoulda done it a long time ago. This time he was gone for good. What did she expect? Him to take it all? Keep getting up after every punch? Keep grinning after every insult, acting like it hadn't hurt? Keep helping her? Keep loving her?

Bitch didn't know how much she needed him. Her friends didn't get her the way he did. Angel hadn't, Riley hadn't. He loved her! Fuck! Spike pulled into a lay-by and searched for his bottle of JD's. He gulped it back and thumped the wheel hard in anger. Damn her for making me into a bleedin' poofter!

He needed to get away from her before she consumed him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

Problem was, she was the Slayer. He hated loving her and wanted to kill her as much as protect her. It was her fault he cared about Bit, her fault he'd save Harris if he had too. See, she cared about them and would be sad if anything happened to them and he was sick and tired of seeing her miserable. Damn her! Problem was he loved her. Oh bloody hell! When, just occasionally, she would look at him and there might be a glimmer, just a glimmer mind, of trust but, course, it was quickly masked by a scowl. Then again, he was even starting to love that scowl of hers. There was something there. There must be 'cause why else would she keep coming back? Why, instead of denying her feelings, would she hit him 'til he shut up? And why, when she did decide to deny her feelings, did she do so, so profusely? Was she trying to convince herself?

Spike groaned and gunned the engine, turning the car with a violent screech. He didn't really give a damn that he was exceeding the speed limit. He turned the radio on and up, letting it drown out his stupid, stupid, alcohol fuelled thoughts while he bobbed his head in time to the music. "You Are Now Entering Sunnydale. Please Enjoy Your Stay"

Nope, he wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Stupid self-bloody-denial! He was Love's Bitch. Always was, always would be. He was going back. Always would 'cause she was there and wherever she was, despite the pain, the insults and the fighting, where she was, was home to him. Drinking, Buffalo wings and girls wouldn't help him. Girls least of all, 'cause they'd only remind him of what he was missing. The problem is, she isn't just the Slayer to me, she's Buffy, y'know?