FIC: Broken, Spike/Xander for 100moods
Title: Broken
Fandom: Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Characters: Xander/Spike
Prompt: Broken
Word Count: 839
Rating: PG
Warning/Spoilers: Umm, S4 roughly, but no real spoilers and definitely no warnings.
Summary: Spike reacts, finally, to being the butt of the joke.
Unbeta'd, so heck yeah, concrit welcome!! Totally.
Previous parts here
Previously:“Come on, Spike. Now that I’ve had my fun, let’s go see if we can find you some of yours. Feel like killin’ something?”
“OH, hell yes.” Spike stood and shoved his chair back under the table, glaring at the three who continued to snicker at him. “Please, gods, let there be some berk what needs killin’ out there.” He and Xander turned to leave, only to be stopped by Giles.
“Xander? If you find anything, please inform either myself or Buffy. We need to be aware of what, if any, demonic activity is still happening.”
“Will do, big guy,” Xander said as he and Spike left together.”
Xander continued to chuckle to himself as he and Spike strolled through the cemetery. Spike eyed him, an angry frown settling on his features.
“I know you and your lot were laughing at me.”
Xander started. “What? What are you talking about?”
“You. The girls, your watcher. Laughing at me. Even know why, I do.” Spike lit a cigarette and patted his pockets for his lighter.
“Right breast pocket, Spike. And what makes you think we were laughing at you?” Xander asked.
“Ta. Same thing that makes me know it happened that first morning I stayed in that hole of hovel with you. Come into the shop, you lot look up and the Slayer and her little witch start giggling.”
Xander watched Spike pace, agitation evident in his pale shaking fingers and the quick, nearly clipped movements of hand to mouth. He frowned, waiting.
Spike twitched, shaking his head. “You and your mates, Xander. You all have no idea what it’s like being me now,” Spike hissed. “Was William the Bloody, half of the Scourge of Europe. Wasn’t all four of us, you know. Just me and Angelus. The girls would go off on their own more often than not, Dru was always lookin’ to find some young thing. So ‘twas just him and me. We were it; fightin’, feedin’, fuckin’ our way through a whole soddin’ continent.”
Xander grimaced. “Spare me the details, please. I have no burning desire to know what you and Angel did behind closed doors.”
“Yeah? Well, pup, I got no burning desire to share it with the likes o’ you, anyways.” Spike rolled his eyes, biting down hard on the cigarette before continuing. “I’ve killed two slayers, Harris, like it were nothing. Easy. And I did it by myself.”
They stopped next to a mausoleum and Xander kept a careful eye on Spike as he worked himself into an angry frenzy.
“But now?” Spike took a deep drag off the cigarette then blew out a thin jet of white-blue smoke, lips pursed and tight. “Now, I’m nothing.”
Xander shook his head and started to speak, “Not nothing, Spi-”
Growling and tossing the cigarette down, Spike snatched Xander up by the lapels on his coat and shoved him hard into the stone wall of the mausoleum. “Not nothing, Xan? Really?” His face shifted and he breathed deep the air, scenting for the tantalizing aroma of fear; getting nothing. He squinted gold eyes at Xander and tilted his head. “Then why aren’t you afraid? Of all of them, could always count on you to jump in fear at this face, mate.” Spike curled his lips up to reveal his fangs, and Xander just looked at him, eyes wide with - not fear, but realization.
“Don’t know why, Spike, cuz the game face is still very terrifying, but I guess I just stopped being scared of you.” He lifted his hands to rest casually on Spike’s arms that were still holding him flush against the stone wall. Xander squeezed those tense arms, trying to comfort and get Spike to let him down, which he did, frowning.
Spike stepped in close to Xander, body flush against him, hands still twisted into Xander’s jacket lapels. “And why is it that you’re not afraid of me, of this face?” He growled low, trying to intimidate.
Xander’s heart picked up a beat or two, and he sucked in a deep breath. “I see it all the time, when you feed. It’s hard to be afraid of something familiar and expected.”
Spike snarled. “When I feed? You mean when I drink from your silly cups. When I have to use soddin’ modern appliances to make my ‘meals’ tolerable!” He jerked Xander back and forth. “Don’t you get it, boy? You and your friends laugh at me, like I’m pathetic...housebroken.” He sighed, finally releasing Xander, who didn’t move, didn’t speak. “Am pathetic.” Spike lowered his head and Xander heard the snick of his vampire face fading.
“I can’t speak for the others, Spike, but I don’t laugh at you.” Xander whispered. “I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.”
Spike snorted. “Right. I’m the Big Bad. Beat up my own kind, fighting and killin’ demons to save what used to be my food.”
“Now we’re your friends.”
Spike sighed deeply. “My friends?” He looked up at Xander.
“Well, I like to think I am at least. I mean, you live with me. We’ve gone patrolling and drinking and shootin’ pool together. Then, and how can we ever forget this, you did kiss me, and I don’t remember fighting you off.”
“Then get this, understand it. I used to be something to be reckoned with, someone to be terrified of. Now?” He paused, eyes closed, head down.
“And now?” Xander prodded gently.
“I can’t even feed myself.” The broken whisper had Xander moving forward, but he stopped when Spike looked up at him with genuine confusion in his face. “Why didn’t they just kill me, Xander. Why leave me like this?”
Fandom: Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Characters: Xander/Spike
Prompt: Broken
Word Count: 839
Rating: PG
Warning/Spoilers: Umm, S4 roughly, but no real spoilers and definitely no warnings.
Summary: Spike reacts, finally, to being the butt of the joke.
Unbeta'd, so heck yeah, concrit welcome!! Totally.
Previous parts here
Previously:“Come on, Spike. Now that I’ve had my fun, let’s go see if we can find you some of yours. Feel like killin’ something?”
“OH, hell yes.” Spike stood and shoved his chair back under the table, glaring at the three who continued to snicker at him. “Please, gods, let there be some berk what needs killin’ out there.” He and Xander turned to leave, only to be stopped by Giles.
“Xander? If you find anything, please inform either myself or Buffy. We need to be aware of what, if any, demonic activity is still happening.”
“Will do, big guy,” Xander said as he and Spike left together.”
Xander continued to chuckle to himself as he and Spike strolled through the cemetery. Spike eyed him, an angry frown settling on his features.
“I know you and your lot were laughing at me.”
Xander started. “What? What are you talking about?”
“You. The girls, your watcher. Laughing at me. Even know why, I do.” Spike lit a cigarette and patted his pockets for his lighter.
“Right breast pocket, Spike. And what makes you think we were laughing at you?” Xander asked.
“Ta. Same thing that makes me know it happened that first morning I stayed in that hole of hovel with you. Come into the shop, you lot look up and the Slayer and her little witch start giggling.”
Xander watched Spike pace, agitation evident in his pale shaking fingers and the quick, nearly clipped movements of hand to mouth. He frowned, waiting.
Spike twitched, shaking his head. “You and your mates, Xander. You all have no idea what it’s like being me now,” Spike hissed. “Was William the Bloody, half of the Scourge of Europe. Wasn’t all four of us, you know. Just me and Angelus. The girls would go off on their own more often than not, Dru was always lookin’ to find some young thing. So ‘twas just him and me. We were it; fightin’, feedin’, fuckin’ our way through a whole soddin’ continent.”
Xander grimaced. “Spare me the details, please. I have no burning desire to know what you and Angel did behind closed doors.”
“Yeah? Well, pup, I got no burning desire to share it with the likes o’ you, anyways.” Spike rolled his eyes, biting down hard on the cigarette before continuing. “I’ve killed two slayers, Harris, like it were nothing. Easy. And I did it by myself.”
They stopped next to a mausoleum and Xander kept a careful eye on Spike as he worked himself into an angry frenzy.
“But now?” Spike took a deep drag off the cigarette then blew out a thin jet of white-blue smoke, lips pursed and tight. “Now, I’m nothing.”
Xander shook his head and started to speak, “Not nothing, Spi-”
Growling and tossing the cigarette down, Spike snatched Xander up by the lapels on his coat and shoved him hard into the stone wall of the mausoleum. “Not nothing, Xan? Really?” His face shifted and he breathed deep the air, scenting for the tantalizing aroma of fear; getting nothing. He squinted gold eyes at Xander and tilted his head. “Then why aren’t you afraid? Of all of them, could always count on you to jump in fear at this face, mate.” Spike curled his lips up to reveal his fangs, and Xander just looked at him, eyes wide with - not fear, but realization.
“Don’t know why, Spike, cuz the game face is still very terrifying, but I guess I just stopped being scared of you.” He lifted his hands to rest casually on Spike’s arms that were still holding him flush against the stone wall. Xander squeezed those tense arms, trying to comfort and get Spike to let him down, which he did, frowning.
Spike stepped in close to Xander, body flush against him, hands still twisted into Xander’s jacket lapels. “And why is it that you’re not afraid of me, of this face?” He growled low, trying to intimidate.
Xander’s heart picked up a beat or two, and he sucked in a deep breath. “I see it all the time, when you feed. It’s hard to be afraid of something familiar and expected.”
Spike snarled. “When I feed? You mean when I drink from your silly cups. When I have to use soddin’ modern appliances to make my ‘meals’ tolerable!” He jerked Xander back and forth. “Don’t you get it, boy? You and your friends laugh at me, like I’m pathetic...housebroken.” He sighed, finally releasing Xander, who didn’t move, didn’t speak. “Am pathetic.” Spike lowered his head and Xander heard the snick of his vampire face fading.
“I can’t speak for the others, Spike, but I don’t laugh at you.” Xander whispered. “I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.”
Spike snorted. “Right. I’m the Big Bad. Beat up my own kind, fighting and killin’ demons to save what used to be my food.”
“Now we’re your friends.”
Spike sighed deeply. “My friends?” He looked up at Xander.
“Well, I like to think I am at least. I mean, you live with me. We’ve gone patrolling and drinking and shootin’ pool together. Then, and how can we ever forget this, you did kiss me, and I don’t remember fighting you off.”
“Then get this, understand it. I used to be something to be reckoned with, someone to be terrified of. Now?” He paused, eyes closed, head down.
“And now?” Xander prodded gently.
“I can’t even feed myself.” The broken whisper had Xander moving forward, but he stopped when Spike looked up at him with genuine confusion in his face. “Why didn’t they just kill me, Xander. Why leave me like this?”