Hot and Bothered Snarkathon Fic
Not sure I'm doing all of this right....but here's my snarkathon entry (for awmp's Hot and Bothered ficathon: [specifications at the end]
it's for my lovely Jojo...
Title: And I Made the Monster Me
Author: Ciley/Suzee
Rating: R?
Setting: Sleeper
Word Count: 2879
COMPLETE
And I Made the Monster Me
“This vampire I killed told me -“
“Told you what?” Spike asked desperately. “That I go out? Yeah, I talk to people. Women. Talk to them 'cause I can't talk to you.” Maybe for once she’d actually listen to him, see that there was something to his feelings for her.
“Oh, Spike, save it.” Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? She already felt guilty enough for what had transpired between them, she didn’t need him reminding her of it at every opportunity.
“As daft a notion as "Soulful Spike the Killer" is, it is nothing,” there was so much emotion in his voice that a part-a large part-of Buffy wanted to just go comfort him, “compared to the idea that another girl could mean anything to me. This chip - they did to me. I couldn't help it. But the soul, I got on my own - for you.”
Buffy wanted to tell him that she knew he’d done that; it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how much it meant to her to have someone do that for her. But she wasn’t ready for that yet, hadn’t been before and certainly wasn’t now.
Now it was beginning to look like she’d have to face the reality of Spike being evil again. As long as she kept her feeling hidden away from the world, from him, from herself, then it wouldn’t hurt so much when he turned out to be what everyone else said he was. When she turned out to be wrong about him.
She’d been wrong about Angel, and she wasn’t sure she could stand being wrong about Spike too…not if she let her heart enter into it at all.
Looking at him now, the love shining in his eyes, his love for her….even with all that pain and anger she could still see he loved her. And it hurt.
It hurt because she couldn’t look into the eyes of a man who loved her again while she killed him. So she did the first thing she thought of, the thing that would keep her safe.
She lashed out.
“That’s low even for you, Spike. Pulling the ‘I got my soul’ card so I’ll ignore the fact that you were off talking to other girls?”
“I’m not pulling any bloody card! What is so wrong with you that I can’t even tell you I love you without-oh I get it! Feeling a bit jealous there, luv? Don’t like the idea of ol’ Spikey chatting up other birds, do you?”
“Please!” she scoffed, trying to hide the jealousy that was, in fact, there. “Do me a favor and stop telling me I feel things I don’t just so you’ll feel better.”
“Fine,” he said, waiting until she visibly relaxed before continuing. “After you do us both a favor and admit what you really do feel. Quit the hiding, Slayer.”
Buffy thought they were past the ‘Slayer’ phase and was shocked to find that it actually bothered her to have him calling her that again.
“You tell me you were just out talking, but Spike…all it is, is words. I saw you, I saw how you were looking at them-I know it was more than just talking.” After all, Buffy reasoned, actions did speak louder than words. “And that vampire? He told me you sired him, then dumped him in some parking lot. How do you explain that, Spike?”
“Did you not hear a word I just said? I have a soul, Buffy, a soul that makes it so that every bad thing I’ve ever done, every single word and deed I’ve ever said or done that’s hurt you? They cut me deeper than any knife ever could. Every night! Every bloody night I see over and over what I’ve done to you, how I’ve caused you pain, how I haven’t been enough to save you, to protect you and the bit. If you think…No, Buffy, no. I’m not-“ He couldn’t even say the words.
“Not killing people?” But apparently Buffy could.
“I would never-“
“Maybe you forgot,” she supplied flippantly. “Maybe you got to having so much fun with those college girls,” Buffy forgot that she herself was of college age, “And forgot all about what you did for that extra little burst of energy.”
“I wouldn’t forget something like that.”
“Are you forgetting,” the word was said in a mocking tone, “That you were, oh, a little out of your mind crazy just a little while ago?”
“No!” he insisted. “And I wouldn’t forget something like…After so long, the taste of human blood? That, I'd remember.”
“So then, Mr. I-Don’t-Kill-College-Girls-And-Drain-Them-Dry, what happened after you ‘talked’ to them?”
“I, um, I…we talked and then…”
“And then what?” When Spike couldn’t answer her, Buffy continued for him. “Did you forget what you did next?”
“I’m just a little fuzzy on the details, luv.” Spike wasn’t ready to admit that after he and the girls talked he had no idea what happened, couldn’t remember how the nights ended.
“Alright, since you can only go out at night and you seem to be unable to keep it in your pants,” Buffy didn’t see the small smile of satisfaction on Spike’s face when he realized she truly was jealous, “or remember what happens to the girls, you’re coming patrolling with me. You can’t go out during the day so that’s covered. But until we figure this out, I’m not letting you out of my sight from sundown to sunup.
If all he had to do to spend entire nights with Buffy was talk to a few girls, maybe he should have tried it sooner.
As the two set out from Xander’s apartment to begin their patrol, Spike tried to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that there was something he was forgetting. Something that when he did remember it, he’d want to forget again.
*~*~*~*
“Hey Slayer, you ever hear how cheerleaders are dancers gone retarded?” Spike asked her after she came down from a particularly graceful kick and flip.
“Yeah, what’s that have to do with anything?” Buffy wondered if he was going to insult her for the fact that she had been a cheerleader before.
“Think maybe Slayers are homicidal dancers gone retarded?”
“Is there just something seriously wrong with your brain? Did the chip firing so much because ooh look at that Spikey can’t not hit people…did it maybe fry your brain a little?”
“You forget that if my brain’s ‘fried’ at all it’s from saving your ass!”
“Like my ass needs saving! From you! You hit Xander…how’s that help me at all?”
“Stopped you from having to listen to him prattle on about the evil undead staying in his apartment for oh, a good half hour.”
“You grossly overestimate yourself if you think that he was out for half an hour! Come on, Spike-that chip? You’re not near as tough as you used to be.”
“Look at that, the Slayer using big words! Everyone hide…the end is coming!”
“God, what is wrong with you tonight? I try to help you figure this out because I don’t like the idea of you killing people again as much as you don’t. The least you could-“
“Or you could pretend to be an educated person and say you dislike the idea as much as I do.”
“Like I’m supposed to believe you went to Harvard!” Buffy scoffed. “You’re a vampire, Spike, and in case you’ve forgotten-I’ve known you the past few years. You’re not exactly scholarly.”
“More scholarly than any of you and you Scoobies’ll ever manage to be.”
“You went to college?”
“Was a proper gentlemen, love.”
“Then I guess you lost it. You’re like, the epitome of the blond bimbo, Spike.”
“Again with the big words. Been reading, have you?” Buffy just shot him a deadly glare. “And I am not a ‘blonde bimbo’,” the way he said it let her know he was only repeating what she said-that he would never, otherwise, let those two words come out of his mouth in succession.
“Please! You got out every night, chat up who knows how many girls-probably end up making out with at least some of them. Then you go back to Xander’s and play the ignorant fool when I ask you about it. You’re acting like Harmony would and if she’s not a blonde bimbo then who the hell is?”
“Right, Harm is; I’m not. Compare me again to that bint and I’ll be showing you just how different I am from her.” The way Spike was leering at her she knew that was meant as something sexual-she just didn’t want to take the time to figure out what.
“Spike, can we just not do this right now?”
Spike heard the pleading in her voice and took a good look at her for the first time in hours, having been scared to look before for fear of seeing her hatred and fear of him in her eyes. But he looked now and could see that the last four hours going through the town’s cemeteries was starting to take its toll. The girl needed rest.
“Why don’t you head on home, pet? It’s getting late-past late, and you could do with some sleep.”
“Oh no you don’t!”
“Oh no I don’t what? I’m just suggesting you get some sleep--know you have work in the morning.”
“I know better than that. You’re trying to get me to leave just so you can go off killing people again.”
“Slayer,” he began, irritation evident in his tone, “if I wanted to be killing people why would I have gone off with you in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t give you a choice?”
“I always have a choice. You forget, with this chip not working on you I can take you.”
“Please!” Buffy scoffed. “You haven’t ever been able to beat me! I would have gotten you that last…that time at the house if not for…”
“And who says that wasn’t me winning?” Spike asked, his eyebrows doing that funny dance they did sometimes, the one that infuriated Buffy. “Felt like winning to me.”
“God, only you would turn that into a game.”
“Oh, really.” There wasn’t even a trace of humor in his laugh. “Then what was it you did about the times after that? ‘Bout our whole thing?”
“Spike, let’s not…Listen, I’ll just take you back to Xander’s and-“Spike staked the vamp that had been trying to sneak up on them without even a thought, but stopped cold as the dust settled around his feet.
“This way,” he interrupted and started walking briskly down the street.
“Spike! Would you stop! We should-“
“This way,” he repeated, pulling her along with him as she grabbed a hold of his arm. “I think I’m starting to remember. This way,” he repeated one more time, quietly.
Buffy had decided it would be best to just follow him, knowing that she could, in fact, stop him if she really wanted to, but they needed to get to the bottom of whatever this was. And so far it seemed like Spike was the best, if not the only, way of doing so.
“You won't come down? I understand. It's a risky proposition.” He’d told her that it was in the basement, but ten seconds later Buffy was still standing atop the stairs.
Buffy knew that going down those stairs came with the possibility that she could get killed; there was no telling how many vamps were there and with
Spike seemingly out of his mind…but she was going to go anyway. Because she trusted him and needed him to know that.
She knew that after….after last year, he knew what it was like to hurt her and he’d never do that again. When it came down to it, Spike would always be there to protect her-and if he were unable to protect her? Then she knew at least that he wouldn’t be one of the ones doing the attacking.
She trusted Spike. Her past actions might not have shown it, but she did. It was why the prospect of him killing again terrified her so much: she didn’t want to be disappointed like that.
So she went down into the basement, not missing the look of amazement on Spike’s face even as he tried to ignore whatever imaginary figure was taunting him.
“Could hurt you, you know.”
“But you won’t,” Buffy answered simply. “Now, how many vamps we going to be…“ she trailed off as Spike’s attention seemed to be focused elsewhere.
How could you use a poor maiden so?
“Spike!” Buffy tried for several moments to get his attention without any success; he didn’t even turn to look at her as vampires started coming out of the ground.
Knowing there wasn’t any time to waste and hoping Spike would snap out of whatever state he was in, Buffy got down to fighting. It had been a long while since she’d fought this many vamps on her own-and that was without the distraction of trying to figure out what was going on with Spike. In just a few minutes that had a hold of her arms and she didn’t seem able to break free…damned distraction!
“Spike!” She tried one more time to get his attention, sighing in relief when this time he started towards her, only to freeze in fear when she saw the vacant look in his eyes. “Spike! Snap out of it! Now!” Buffy didn’t try to hide the fear in her voice, she’d gotten used to Spike being on her side and now that didn’t appear to be true. For whatever reason.
Whatever had gotten ahold of Spike had done a damn good job, but not so much so that together they weren’t able to break him out of it. He’d only nuzzled at her cut arm before some part of him seemed to recognize her and that, along with her words, had ended whatever hold that, that thing had over him.
What scared Buffy, though, was that she hadn’t seen what it was that had so quickly and easily taken control of Spike’s mind.
“Do it quick, alright?” As he held his shirt away from his chest for her, Buffy could see Spike’s desperation. As he pleaded for her to end it for him, to make it so that he wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that he’d killed all of those people-and could quite possibly do it again-Buffy carefully slid down to sit next to him, uncaring of the dirt.
“I’m not going to,” she said quietly, trying to explain herself but not being given the chance.
“Please,” he begged. “I can’t live with it-knowing…I just can’t. End it, Slayer; we’ll both be better for it.”
“Spike, let’s get going, this basement creeps me out.” Once again Buffy was back to avoiding actually committing to anything. She couldn’t kill Spike but wasn’t able to just come out and tell him so-or tell him why, so she went the indirect route. Again. “You can stay at my house-“
“So I can what?” he asked, “kill all the Scoobies?”
“No,” Buffy said, not meeting his eyes, “so we can figure out what this thing is and stop it from beating you. I’m not going to let it get you, Spike. Not….I’m just not.”
“Why are you doing all of this, Buffy?” Spike asked after several long moments of silence; he was still huddled in the corner, not sure he was
ready to leave with her as she wished.
“Because…I need you,” she said quietly.
Spike let that sink in for a few moments. “But I’ve killed again.”
“Not of your own free will,” she countered automatically before becoming more serious again. “And it doesn’t even really matter-not to me. Whatever this thing is that’s got so much control over you…it’s strong, Spike. Really strong, possibly stronger than anything I’ve fought before. I can’t do this without you.”
“I get it,” Spike said, trying to hide his disappointment. “I’ll help you beat the baddie then I’m gone, yeah?”
“That’s not what I-“ Buffy began before stopping herself; with as stressful as the night had been she knew there was no way she’d be able to say what she wanted to say in the way she wanted to say it. “Let’s just go, okay?”
She hoped that somehow he’d gather that there was more that she just wasn’t ready to tell him yet.
Spike watched her back for a few seconds as she walked up the stairs, saw the blood coating part of her sweater sleeve…and finally got up. If Buffy could know that he’d killed all of those people, could come so close to being truly attacked by him and still welcome him into her home-well then, who was he to turn in down?
Ignoring the doppelganger that trailed behind, taunting him all the way, Spike silently followed her up the stairs and out into the night.
THE END
Request:
**a keyword/ situation/ line you want to see: Don't ask me why, but i've always wanted to see Buffy call spike a blonde bimbo (i know we usually think of that as a gal, but it just seems like something buffy would blurt out)
**Three other requests for your fic:a bit of fluff, pre-chosen but still souled spike
**Up to three restrictions for your fic:don't make it a bitey fic (that;s really it)
also wrote a drabble (that got long) for Manda that meats that first requirement...will post in one second...then I'll add the link here. edit: here you go: http://ciley.livejournal.com/247706.html
it's for my lovely Jojo...
Title: And I Made the Monster Me
Author: Ciley/Suzee
Rating: R?
Setting: Sleeper
Word Count: 2879
COMPLETE
And I Made the Monster Me
“This vampire I killed told me -“
“Told you what?” Spike asked desperately. “That I go out? Yeah, I talk to people. Women. Talk to them 'cause I can't talk to you.” Maybe for once she’d actually listen to him, see that there was something to his feelings for her.
“Oh, Spike, save it.” Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? She already felt guilty enough for what had transpired between them, she didn’t need him reminding her of it at every opportunity.
“As daft a notion as "Soulful Spike the Killer" is, it is nothing,” there was so much emotion in his voice that a part-a large part-of Buffy wanted to just go comfort him, “compared to the idea that another girl could mean anything to me. This chip - they did to me. I couldn't help it. But the soul, I got on my own - for you.”
Buffy wanted to tell him that she knew he’d done that; it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how much it meant to her to have someone do that for her. But she wasn’t ready for that yet, hadn’t been before and certainly wasn’t now.
Now it was beginning to look like she’d have to face the reality of Spike being evil again. As long as she kept her feeling hidden away from the world, from him, from herself, then it wouldn’t hurt so much when he turned out to be what everyone else said he was. When she turned out to be wrong about him.
She’d been wrong about Angel, and she wasn’t sure she could stand being wrong about Spike too…not if she let her heart enter into it at all.
Looking at him now, the love shining in his eyes, his love for her….even with all that pain and anger she could still see he loved her. And it hurt.
It hurt because she couldn’t look into the eyes of a man who loved her again while she killed him. So she did the first thing she thought of, the thing that would keep her safe.
She lashed out.
“That’s low even for you, Spike. Pulling the ‘I got my soul’ card so I’ll ignore the fact that you were off talking to other girls?”
“I’m not pulling any bloody card! What is so wrong with you that I can’t even tell you I love you without-oh I get it! Feeling a bit jealous there, luv? Don’t like the idea of ol’ Spikey chatting up other birds, do you?”
“Please!” she scoffed, trying to hide the jealousy that was, in fact, there. “Do me a favor and stop telling me I feel things I don’t just so you’ll feel better.”
“Fine,” he said, waiting until she visibly relaxed before continuing. “After you do us both a favor and admit what you really do feel. Quit the hiding, Slayer.”
Buffy thought they were past the ‘Slayer’ phase and was shocked to find that it actually bothered her to have him calling her that again.
“You tell me you were just out talking, but Spike…all it is, is words. I saw you, I saw how you were looking at them-I know it was more than just talking.” After all, Buffy reasoned, actions did speak louder than words. “And that vampire? He told me you sired him, then dumped him in some parking lot. How do you explain that, Spike?”
“Did you not hear a word I just said? I have a soul, Buffy, a soul that makes it so that every bad thing I’ve ever done, every single word and deed I’ve ever said or done that’s hurt you? They cut me deeper than any knife ever could. Every night! Every bloody night I see over and over what I’ve done to you, how I’ve caused you pain, how I haven’t been enough to save you, to protect you and the bit. If you think…No, Buffy, no. I’m not-“ He couldn’t even say the words.
“Not killing people?” But apparently Buffy could.
“I would never-“
“Maybe you forgot,” she supplied flippantly. “Maybe you got to having so much fun with those college girls,” Buffy forgot that she herself was of college age, “And forgot all about what you did for that extra little burst of energy.”
“I wouldn’t forget something like that.”
“Are you forgetting,” the word was said in a mocking tone, “That you were, oh, a little out of your mind crazy just a little while ago?”
“No!” he insisted. “And I wouldn’t forget something like…After so long, the taste of human blood? That, I'd remember.”
“So then, Mr. I-Don’t-Kill-College-Girls-And-Drain-Them-Dry, what happened after you ‘talked’ to them?”
“I, um, I…we talked and then…”
“And then what?” When Spike couldn’t answer her, Buffy continued for him. “Did you forget what you did next?”
“I’m just a little fuzzy on the details, luv.” Spike wasn’t ready to admit that after he and the girls talked he had no idea what happened, couldn’t remember how the nights ended.
“Alright, since you can only go out at night and you seem to be unable to keep it in your pants,” Buffy didn’t see the small smile of satisfaction on Spike’s face when he realized she truly was jealous, “or remember what happens to the girls, you’re coming patrolling with me. You can’t go out during the day so that’s covered. But until we figure this out, I’m not letting you out of my sight from sundown to sunup.
If all he had to do to spend entire nights with Buffy was talk to a few girls, maybe he should have tried it sooner.
As the two set out from Xander’s apartment to begin their patrol, Spike tried to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that there was something he was forgetting. Something that when he did remember it, he’d want to forget again.
*~*~*~*
“Hey Slayer, you ever hear how cheerleaders are dancers gone retarded?” Spike asked her after she came down from a particularly graceful kick and flip.
“Yeah, what’s that have to do with anything?” Buffy wondered if he was going to insult her for the fact that she had been a cheerleader before.
“Think maybe Slayers are homicidal dancers gone retarded?”
“Is there just something seriously wrong with your brain? Did the chip firing so much because ooh look at that Spikey can’t not hit people…did it maybe fry your brain a little?”
“You forget that if my brain’s ‘fried’ at all it’s from saving your ass!”
“Like my ass needs saving! From you! You hit Xander…how’s that help me at all?”
“Stopped you from having to listen to him prattle on about the evil undead staying in his apartment for oh, a good half hour.”
“You grossly overestimate yourself if you think that he was out for half an hour! Come on, Spike-that chip? You’re not near as tough as you used to be.”
“Look at that, the Slayer using big words! Everyone hide…the end is coming!”
“God, what is wrong with you tonight? I try to help you figure this out because I don’t like the idea of you killing people again as much as you don’t. The least you could-“
“Or you could pretend to be an educated person and say you dislike the idea as much as I do.”
“Like I’m supposed to believe you went to Harvard!” Buffy scoffed. “You’re a vampire, Spike, and in case you’ve forgotten-I’ve known you the past few years. You’re not exactly scholarly.”
“More scholarly than any of you and you Scoobies’ll ever manage to be.”
“You went to college?”
“Was a proper gentlemen, love.”
“Then I guess you lost it. You’re like, the epitome of the blond bimbo, Spike.”
“Again with the big words. Been reading, have you?” Buffy just shot him a deadly glare. “And I am not a ‘blonde bimbo’,” the way he said it let her know he was only repeating what she said-that he would never, otherwise, let those two words come out of his mouth in succession.
“Please! You got out every night, chat up who knows how many girls-probably end up making out with at least some of them. Then you go back to Xander’s and play the ignorant fool when I ask you about it. You’re acting like Harmony would and if she’s not a blonde bimbo then who the hell is?”
“Right, Harm is; I’m not. Compare me again to that bint and I’ll be showing you just how different I am from her.” The way Spike was leering at her she knew that was meant as something sexual-she just didn’t want to take the time to figure out what.
“Spike, can we just not do this right now?”
Spike heard the pleading in her voice and took a good look at her for the first time in hours, having been scared to look before for fear of seeing her hatred and fear of him in her eyes. But he looked now and could see that the last four hours going through the town’s cemeteries was starting to take its toll. The girl needed rest.
“Why don’t you head on home, pet? It’s getting late-past late, and you could do with some sleep.”
“Oh no you don’t!”
“Oh no I don’t what? I’m just suggesting you get some sleep--know you have work in the morning.”
“I know better than that. You’re trying to get me to leave just so you can go off killing people again.”
“Slayer,” he began, irritation evident in his tone, “if I wanted to be killing people why would I have gone off with you in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t give you a choice?”
“I always have a choice. You forget, with this chip not working on you I can take you.”
“Please!” Buffy scoffed. “You haven’t ever been able to beat me! I would have gotten you that last…that time at the house if not for…”
“And who says that wasn’t me winning?” Spike asked, his eyebrows doing that funny dance they did sometimes, the one that infuriated Buffy. “Felt like winning to me.”
“God, only you would turn that into a game.”
“Oh, really.” There wasn’t even a trace of humor in his laugh. “Then what was it you did about the times after that? ‘Bout our whole thing?”
“Spike, let’s not…Listen, I’ll just take you back to Xander’s and-“Spike staked the vamp that had been trying to sneak up on them without even a thought, but stopped cold as the dust settled around his feet.
“This way,” he interrupted and started walking briskly down the street.
“Spike! Would you stop! We should-“
“This way,” he repeated, pulling her along with him as she grabbed a hold of his arm. “I think I’m starting to remember. This way,” he repeated one more time, quietly.
Buffy had decided it would be best to just follow him, knowing that she could, in fact, stop him if she really wanted to, but they needed to get to the bottom of whatever this was. And so far it seemed like Spike was the best, if not the only, way of doing so.
“You won't come down? I understand. It's a risky proposition.” He’d told her that it was in the basement, but ten seconds later Buffy was still standing atop the stairs.
Buffy knew that going down those stairs came with the possibility that she could get killed; there was no telling how many vamps were there and with
Spike seemingly out of his mind…but she was going to go anyway. Because she trusted him and needed him to know that.
She knew that after….after last year, he knew what it was like to hurt her and he’d never do that again. When it came down to it, Spike would always be there to protect her-and if he were unable to protect her? Then she knew at least that he wouldn’t be one of the ones doing the attacking.
She trusted Spike. Her past actions might not have shown it, but she did. It was why the prospect of him killing again terrified her so much: she didn’t want to be disappointed like that.
So she went down into the basement, not missing the look of amazement on Spike’s face even as he tried to ignore whatever imaginary figure was taunting him.
“Could hurt you, you know.”
“But you won’t,” Buffy answered simply. “Now, how many vamps we going to be…“ she trailed off as Spike’s attention seemed to be focused elsewhere.
How could you use a poor maiden so?
“Spike!” Buffy tried for several moments to get his attention without any success; he didn’t even turn to look at her as vampires started coming out of the ground.
Knowing there wasn’t any time to waste and hoping Spike would snap out of whatever state he was in, Buffy got down to fighting. It had been a long while since she’d fought this many vamps on her own-and that was without the distraction of trying to figure out what was going on with Spike. In just a few minutes that had a hold of her arms and she didn’t seem able to break free…damned distraction!
“Spike!” She tried one more time to get his attention, sighing in relief when this time he started towards her, only to freeze in fear when she saw the vacant look in his eyes. “Spike! Snap out of it! Now!” Buffy didn’t try to hide the fear in her voice, she’d gotten used to Spike being on her side and now that didn’t appear to be true. For whatever reason.
Whatever had gotten ahold of Spike had done a damn good job, but not so much so that together they weren’t able to break him out of it. He’d only nuzzled at her cut arm before some part of him seemed to recognize her and that, along with her words, had ended whatever hold that, that thing had over him.
What scared Buffy, though, was that she hadn’t seen what it was that had so quickly and easily taken control of Spike’s mind.
“Do it quick, alright?” As he held his shirt away from his chest for her, Buffy could see Spike’s desperation. As he pleaded for her to end it for him, to make it so that he wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that he’d killed all of those people-and could quite possibly do it again-Buffy carefully slid down to sit next to him, uncaring of the dirt.
“I’m not going to,” she said quietly, trying to explain herself but not being given the chance.
“Please,” he begged. “I can’t live with it-knowing…I just can’t. End it, Slayer; we’ll both be better for it.”
“Spike, let’s get going, this basement creeps me out.” Once again Buffy was back to avoiding actually committing to anything. She couldn’t kill Spike but wasn’t able to just come out and tell him so-or tell him why, so she went the indirect route. Again. “You can stay at my house-“
“So I can what?” he asked, “kill all the Scoobies?”
“No,” Buffy said, not meeting his eyes, “so we can figure out what this thing is and stop it from beating you. I’m not going to let it get you, Spike. Not….I’m just not.”
“Why are you doing all of this, Buffy?” Spike asked after several long moments of silence; he was still huddled in the corner, not sure he was
ready to leave with her as she wished.
“Because…I need you,” she said quietly.
Spike let that sink in for a few moments. “But I’ve killed again.”
“Not of your own free will,” she countered automatically before becoming more serious again. “And it doesn’t even really matter-not to me. Whatever this thing is that’s got so much control over you…it’s strong, Spike. Really strong, possibly stronger than anything I’ve fought before. I can’t do this without you.”
“I get it,” Spike said, trying to hide his disappointment. “I’ll help you beat the baddie then I’m gone, yeah?”
“That’s not what I-“ Buffy began before stopping herself; with as stressful as the night had been she knew there was no way she’d be able to say what she wanted to say in the way she wanted to say it. “Let’s just go, okay?”
She hoped that somehow he’d gather that there was more that she just wasn’t ready to tell him yet.
Spike watched her back for a few seconds as she walked up the stairs, saw the blood coating part of her sweater sleeve…and finally got up. If Buffy could know that he’d killed all of those people, could come so close to being truly attacked by him and still welcome him into her home-well then, who was he to turn in down?
Ignoring the doppelganger that trailed behind, taunting him all the way, Spike silently followed her up the stairs and out into the night.
THE END
Request:
**a keyword/ situation/ line you want to see: Don't ask me why, but i've always wanted to see Buffy call spike a blonde bimbo (i know we usually think of that as a gal, but it just seems like something buffy would blurt out)
**Three other requests for your fic:a bit of fluff, pre-chosen but still souled spike
**Up to three restrictions for your fic:don't make it a bitey fic (that;s really it)
also wrote a drabble (that got long) for Manda that meats that first requirement...will post in one second...then I'll add the link here. edit: here you go: http://ciley.livejournal.com/247706.html