After work the next evening, Buffy dropped dinner off with Dawn and turned to head out the door, only to bump right into Spike himself standing in the doorway. She jumped back, stake reflexively in hand, but halted herself when she saw him standing there.
"Spike, this HAS to stop," Buffy told him. "Really. It's getting really invasive, and really, just think, it's not just the you-being-a-despicable-monster thing that's stopping us from actually - "
"SHUT UP and listen," Spike shouted. "I have to talk to you."
Buffy stared daggers at him. After a pause, she replied, "Yes. We need to talk. Let's go."
She shoved him aside and proceeded out the door.
"Well, alright then," Spike said as he shut the door behind him and followed her.
They walked out to the cemetery in silence. When they got there, Buffy stood beside a large monument, glaring at Spike as he caught up. "Sit down," she commanded. Spike sat down on the monument, still silent.
Buffy paced back and forth, her expression one of clear exasperation.
"Spike... please, get it through your head. We will never, NEVER be anything. And I am getting really tired of your constantly following me like some lost puppy. Take last night, for example."
"So you felt it too?" Spike asked.
Buffy paused for a moment and stopped pacing. "What?"
Spike got up and approached her.
"That feeling, like you're being watched. That discomfort."
He stood behind her. "That..." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Nervousness. That dread. Like something's about to grab you and have a go at you." He leaned in and whispered the last part in her ear: "And you have no idea where they are."
He turned back around to face her and sighed.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I felt it too."
He paused for a moment.
"I need you to do something for me."
Buffy stood, mulling this over. On one hand, Spike was a vampire, a soulless monster whose motives were entirely self-serving and who had been the cause of countless deaths in his two centuries of un-death, including two Slayers. He had even caused her personally immense amounts of grief. She had every right, and really, the responsibility, to stake him on sight. On the other hand, it really did seem as if he cared for her, in what to her mind was some sick and twisted way, and he had done her and her family great favors recently, perhaps even life-saving ones. And with Buffy's own return from two seperate deaths, they shared something of an understandable connection... perhaps it was prudent to hear him out, at least.
Spike saw that she was deep in consideration.
"You know, I've done a lot to help you as of late. Perhaps it's time for me to call in those favors. Time to pay up, love."
Buffy shot him a look. "I don't believe you. Where do you come off 'calling in favors'? I 'pay up' by not staking you where you stand. What in the hell do you want?"
Spike took a step back, clearly surprised by the sudden hostility. "Well, alright, no need to get our panties in a bunch." He sighed. "It's the Great War. Sunnydale's about to become a battlefield."
Buffy was confused. "What are you talking about? In case you forgot, Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth. It's always a battlefield."
Spike replied, "Well, that's one part of it, but there's more. I'm talking something different, but not unrelated. Sit down and let me tell you a story."
Buffy was now seated on the monument. Spike, obviously hamming it up, cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together.
"Where do I begin? Well, being the Slayer and all, I'm actually quite shocked you haven't heard of the Great War. I thought you were supposed to be all about knowing about us vampires and everything, especially something about us that's been such a thorn in our sides."
Buffy was really confused now. She really wondered what apparently obvious fact about vampires she failed to understand, and why Giles, her Watcher, had not taught it to her.
"But I digress. What I'm sure you do know is that throughout the centuries there've been countless rivalries and conflicts among demons and all that. Well, they call this one the Great War because it's really one of the more storied and longest-lasting conflicts out there, and it's still on. We vampires HATE werewolves, and they hate us back."
"Wasn't there a movie or something about this recently? Underworld?" Buffy asked him.
"Yeah," Spike replied casually, smiling, shaking his head and breaking out of his faux academic speaking tone. "Really ridiculous in its portrayal of vampires. Got werewolves pretty good, though. And Kate Beckinsale in leather. What I would do if I got my mitts on her..." Spike drifted off.
Buffy shook her head and waved a hand in disgust, getting up to leave. "Spike, I'm just disappointed now. This is the worst attempt to toy with me you've ever pulled."
"Oh, I'm not toying, Slayer," Spike commented. "They're coming. A whole pack of 'em. And that's why I need your help, see."
Buffy began to walk away. "Look somewhere else."
Spike stared on in disbelief as she walked on. "You felt it last night. That was them."
Buffy turned around and marched in a huff right back to him, yelling with each stride.
"No it wasn't, Spike. That was you. You got caught and now you're coming up with some pathetic excuse to weasel your way out of trouble. Well, it's not going to happen. Just like WE are never going to happen."
She pulled a stake from behind her and held it to his chest over his heart, pushing him back to the point of leaning back over the monument. She stared deeply into his eyes, which now showed sheer terror, and as she spoke each word, she poked him gently but firmly with the stake to get the point across.
"If I dare catch you stalking me anymore, so help me, I will end you before you can even blink."
