by Saber ShadowKitten
Series: Tempting Fate XVI

Buffy felt the familiar presence and was searching the darkness for Angel when she tripped. However, whatever she tripped over said ‘omph' and normally headstones didn't talk. Then again, this was the Hellmouth.

"I can make the moon disappear. Wanna see?"

The peroxide blond vampire was sprawled out on the ground, several empty bottles around him, looking up at the stars. "Spike, what the heck are you doing here?" Buffy said, removing the stake from her sleeve.

He let out a loud, drunken laugh. "Jus'layin' on the ground," he answered. He looked over at her, widening his eyes to pull off innocence. "But orfacer, I didn't know laying on the bloody ground in a cemet'ry was i'legal."

"Spike, you're drunk. Again," Buffy said, giving him a small kick in his ribs.

"Really?" Spike drawled out. He pushed himself slowly to his feet and faced her, putting up his fists. "Let's do it."

Buffy stared at him as he stumbled, and he hadn't even taken a step. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Spike, why are you back in Sunnydale?"

"You don't wanna fight?" he slurred. "Maybe I wanna fight. Come on, Slayer, show me what you got."

He lurched at her. Buffy easily sidestepped him and watched as he staggered, almost falling over a tombstone. He spun back to face her, black duster flying out behind him and he frowned. "You're not playing fair. Now, don't move and we can get this over with once and for all."

"Spike, go away," she sighed, turning and walking away.

"Hey! I thought we were going to fight!" Spike yelled after her. "Fightin' and shaggin', fightin' and shaggin', that's what we're good at! But it doesn't work if you won't fight!"

Buffy turned around to see him stumble over to a bench and flop down on it. "Spike, what the hell are you babbling about?"

"Are you bloody daft?" he said. "I hate you! I hate the ground you walk on! I hate the-the air you have to breathe! I hate the bloody way you're a pain in my bloody arse!"

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual," she scowled, stalking over to him. "I should just stake you right now."

"Then why don't you?"

Buffy blinked in shock at the tone of his voice. "What?"

"Do you want me to paint you a target?" Spike asked sarcastically, pushing his duster and red shirt aside. "One stake, one pile of dust."

"You want me to kill you?" she said incredulously.

"It's the only bloody thing left," he replied quietly. "When all the fighting and shagging and hating is done, the only thing left is the killing."

Buffy couldn't believe him. "Wait - did things not work out with Drusilla?" He snorted derisively in response. "Oh, so that's why you're acting like this." She shook her head sadly. "Get out of Sunnydale, Spike. I won't let you go again."

Spike watched as she left the cemetery. "That's all that's left, isn't it?" he asked the night. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, his head hanging.

End 1