FROM HEROES ━━ buffy

vii. Giving into it

       "Heard you're like suicidal now. What's up with that?"

"Who told you that?"

"Xander."

☀︎

      Lilith takes Spike down to Willy's bar. Her idea of a cheering up. Willy's is this bar for demons in the sketchy part of town. Spike's already been there a few times. Lilith found it after she followed a demon she'd been tracking for an artifact deal, and she winded up at Willy's by accident.

The second she set foot in there, it was like walking into a thunderstorm of suppressed desire, shame, regret — all things she feeds on.

She's loved it since.

       Lilith and Spike pick a booth by the corner. She makes him get them their drinks. As he passes her her drink, he says, "Thanks for, um, the clothes."

       After the embarrassing bit of trying to use Xander's washing machine and shrinking his clothes on the process, Spike had been forced to use Xander's colorful wardrobe—which included a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts.

       And so, despite how amusing it'd been for Lilith to see him this way, as a merciful act, she'd lent him clothes more suited to his style. Black jeans, black tee, black leather jacket. His usual.

       She takes a sip of gin. "Belonged to an ex."

       "Of course," Spike says, unsurprised. "I like the jacket."

       "That's mine. You're not keeping it." She got it from this niche place rockstars used to go to back in the seventies.

       He shrugs, makes himself cozier with the jacket. "I can hurt demons."

       Lilith wonders if he says it as a way to indirectly remind her that he can still hurt her or if he's speaking generally. She finds it hard to reply, so she just nods.

       Spike leans closer, like he's about to share an achievement with a friend. "I killed two Vahrall earlier today."

       Lilith pretends to be moved. "Wow, good job! Need a pat on the back, little something more?"

       Spike feels like she's making fun of him.

☀︎

They're more than a few drinks in. Most patrons have cleared out. They're playing darts, slow and lazy. Spike's cigarette burns low between his fingers. Lilith's drink is recently refilled. They're not speaking. Just throwing.

Until she misses, dramatically. "Look at that. Emotionally destabilized and uncoordinated."

"That's what happens when you eat sadness for dinner."

Lilith mocks him. "Oh? And what do you eat, Spike? Regret? Obsession? Your daily recommended serving of 'Dru doesn't want you back'?"

Spike tosses his dart, hits bullseye. "Still more filling than whatever it is you're chasing."
She doesn't react at first. But then she says, softly and reminiscent of the past. "You know... sometimes I think you were the only one who never really fed me. Not properly."

There's a beat.

"Good."

"Not because you didn't feel anything. You just never gave it away. You kept it all for her."

They both fall quiet.

Spike breaks their silence. "She still doesn't want me."

Quiet, Lilith says, "That makes two of us."

She isn't sure who she means. If this is still about Dru. She just throws another dart. It misses.

Spike goes next. It barely lands. "You still dream about Dru?"

Paris is easy to miss, but Lilith knows better now. "No. I dream about when I didn't know what I was missing."

☀︎

Gravel crunches under Lily's boots. The bar door creaks shut behind them. It's late. That specific kind of silence where the city feels like it's holding its breath. Lily walks ahead, keys dangling in one hand, no rush to go anywhere. Spike follows a few paces behind, cigarette lit, pacing like a caged thing.

Lily starts, casual, "You know... you could feed from me."

Spike stops walking. Just like that, he's still. He doesn't turn away yet. "You're joking."

Lilith glances over her shoulder. She sounds sure of herself. "I'm not. I'm offering."

Spike takes a long drag from the cigarette. Then flicks it away — a fast, irritated gesture. "Right. That's the game, is it? Couple of drinks, get me alone. Whisper the magic words. You are bad, Lil."

That makes her smile. "You'd give in without the drinks."

She steps closer. Not seducing. Not even smiling now. Just offering. Like blood is business. Lily tilts her chin up, exposing the line of her neck. She has the pulse of a demon — not human, but warm enough.

Spike's finger lifts, traces the underside of her jaw. His voice drops. "Maybe."

He stares at her neck like a starving man looks at a closed door. He hates this. He needs this. He tells himself it's about the chip. The hunger. Drusilla's ghost still laughing behind his eyes.

It's not about Lily.

But she's there, breathing and waiting. A vein throbbing just beneath pale skin. No heartbeat, but rhythm all the same.

And so, he gives in. She lets him.

He leans in. Slow and nearly cautious. His mouth brushes her skin. Then his face changes, his fangs come out. And he bites. No pleasure. No pain. Just relief. Lilith exhales, lets out a sound in between a gasp and a moan. Spike pulls back, there's blood at the corner of his mouth. "Tastes like spite and self-loathing."

"That's just you."

He didn't take much, Lilith doesn't point it out. His face reverts back to human. She wipes the blood from his lip with her thumb. Then she walks away from him, like this truly was just business.

He watches her leave, jaw clenched, every nerve lit. He tells himself it meant nothing. But he knows he'll do it again.

i edited Lilith's lore. she now feeds on emotions. not blood. thought it'd be more fitting for a succubus and would set her apart from vamps