Another fic: Chained Holiday
Another lovely prompt from sb_fag_ends, Holiday in Handcuffs. Who could resist that with Spike in mind? Set in S4 around Christmas.
Length: 863 words
Rating: PG13 (R by implication?)
Chained Holiday
In retrospect it all had a hideous sort of inevitability.
Giles refused point blank. He had a ticket and a passport and, come hell or high water, he was going to spend Christmas in London. Olivia was, mirabile dictu, still interested in him, and grass was not going to grow under his feet. In a wave of similar oracular sayings, some of which were even comprehensible, he vanished three days before The Day.
Xander was craftier. He told Anya Buffy was likely to ask him, before the idea had really fixed itself in the Slayer’s mind. Anya had definite opinions of her own, and they were not exactly conciliatory. “I have every expectation of a lot of orgasms for Yule and no stowaway vampire is going to spoil my party.” Eventually Xander would stop blushing and at least it worked.
It was never an option to ask Willow. A happy non-Christmas chez Rosenberg did not involve extra guests unapproved by her mother. Willow wasn’t in exactly the best of places either, just at the moment.
That left just the one place. Revello Drive. Buffy knew her mother had a soft heart and a softer spot for personable and polite young men, whether or not they were vampires, unless they happened to be dark, broody and currently in Los Angeles. There was a cellar and a comfy cot down there. It had to be done.
She started gently. “Mom, remember last year? It wasn’t just us, was it? You know, I thought it was kinda fun, having a guest.” The guest had been a psychotic alternate Slayer, but no need to mention that.
Joyce Summers mentioned it. “Buffy, that girl was very strange and not very polite - I don’t think she was entirely a success as a guest.” Her eyes narrowed, “You don’t want me to invite her again do you?”
“Who, Faith? No - we can’t, anyway - she’s still in a coma.” Ignoring Joyce’s astonished expression and determined to forestall questions, Buffy rushed on, “No, it’s Spike - you’ve met him a couple of times and you seemed to get along. He’s been staying with Mr Giles, but he’s going to London for the holidays, and we need to keep him somewhere safe.”
“You need to keep Mr Giles somewhere safe because he’s going to England?”
“No, no, Spike needs to be kept safe.”
“But, Buffy, are you sure about this? Isn’t he a - you know?”
Ordinarily, Buffy would have been amused that her mother still found it difficult to say the word, but now she was too much focussed on dealing with the problem at hand. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom, he’s a vampire. Which is why Xander has promised to bolt a staple to the wall in the basement so we can keep him chained while we sleep.”
“Darling, you want me to invite a guest, then chain him up? What sort of a hostess do you think I am?”
“Mother.” More eye-rolling, “he is a vampire. He needs to be kept where we know he won’t hurt anyone, and where he will be able to explain to us more about this strange group who kidnapped him.”
Joyce’s voice rose, “Kidnapped? Buffy, when were you going to tell me there are kidnappers in town? How do we know anyone is safe?”
It was time to be soothing now. Buffy applied her most cheerful, open, honest expression. “I think they are supposed to be the good guys, Mom. They take out demons and vamps and such. It’s just that they don’t discriminate too much, and Spike’s harmless now.
Joyce was not as green as she was cabbage-looking. “If he’s harmless, why do we need to chain him up? If he isn’t harmless, why do we get him as a guest? Really, Buffy, you need to think these things through a lot more. You know how difficult your relationship with that other vampire was.”
“I’m not like Angel.” A strong voice cut across the quiet, almost ladylike discussion. “Know I could be a problem. That’s why I asked your Lass here to arrange for chains. Don’t want anyone getting any ideas now, do we?” Spike smiled and laughed, eying her with that special look he reserved for ladies he mentally classed as “Mums”, even if they were a century or so younger than he was. Unable to resist, though, he glanced at her daughter, parted his teeth slightly and curled his tongue behind them.
Buffy snorted. Spike was such a pig. She would take extra care to test the chains and the staple, and she knew exactly where to find a good, strong set of handcuffs.
And, no, she was not going to think about the time she’d seen them in her mother’s hand. Or about the exciting things she and Giles had probably done with them. Not exciting. No. Bad. Wrong. They’d just been in Giles’s apartment by coincidence when they had needed to chain a vampire into a bathtub. And what happened after that? Total stupid magic fluke.
Handcuffs were for restraining the bad guys and that was all she was going to use them for.
However sexy his smirk.
Yes, comments would be extremely welcome. Nurtured, even.
Length: 863 words
Rating: PG13 (R by implication?)
Chained Holiday
In retrospect it all had a hideous sort of inevitability.
Giles refused point blank. He had a ticket and a passport and, come hell or high water, he was going to spend Christmas in London. Olivia was, mirabile dictu, still interested in him, and grass was not going to grow under his feet. In a wave of similar oracular sayings, some of which were even comprehensible, he vanished three days before The Day.
Xander was craftier. He told Anya Buffy was likely to ask him, before the idea had really fixed itself in the Slayer’s mind. Anya had definite opinions of her own, and they were not exactly conciliatory. “I have every expectation of a lot of orgasms for Yule and no stowaway vampire is going to spoil my party.” Eventually Xander would stop blushing and at least it worked.
It was never an option to ask Willow. A happy non-Christmas chez Rosenberg did not involve extra guests unapproved by her mother. Willow wasn’t in exactly the best of places either, just at the moment.
That left just the one place. Revello Drive. Buffy knew her mother had a soft heart and a softer spot for personable and polite young men, whether or not they were vampires, unless they happened to be dark, broody and currently in Los Angeles. There was a cellar and a comfy cot down there. It had to be done.
She started gently. “Mom, remember last year? It wasn’t just us, was it? You know, I thought it was kinda fun, having a guest.” The guest had been a psychotic alternate Slayer, but no need to mention that.
Joyce Summers mentioned it. “Buffy, that girl was very strange and not very polite - I don’t think she was entirely a success as a guest.” Her eyes narrowed, “You don’t want me to invite her again do you?”
“Who, Faith? No - we can’t, anyway - she’s still in a coma.” Ignoring Joyce’s astonished expression and determined to forestall questions, Buffy rushed on, “No, it’s Spike - you’ve met him a couple of times and you seemed to get along. He’s been staying with Mr Giles, but he’s going to London for the holidays, and we need to keep him somewhere safe.”
“You need to keep Mr Giles somewhere safe because he’s going to England?”
“No, no, Spike needs to be kept safe.”
“But, Buffy, are you sure about this? Isn’t he a - you know?”
Ordinarily, Buffy would have been amused that her mother still found it difficult to say the word, but now she was too much focussed on dealing with the problem at hand. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom, he’s a vampire. Which is why Xander has promised to bolt a staple to the wall in the basement so we can keep him chained while we sleep.”
“Darling, you want me to invite a guest, then chain him up? What sort of a hostess do you think I am?”
“Mother.” More eye-rolling, “he is a vampire. He needs to be kept where we know he won’t hurt anyone, and where he will be able to explain to us more about this strange group who kidnapped him.”
Joyce’s voice rose, “Kidnapped? Buffy, when were you going to tell me there are kidnappers in town? How do we know anyone is safe?”
It was time to be soothing now. Buffy applied her most cheerful, open, honest expression. “I think they are supposed to be the good guys, Mom. They take out demons and vamps and such. It’s just that they don’t discriminate too much, and Spike’s harmless now.
Joyce was not as green as she was cabbage-looking. “If he’s harmless, why do we need to chain him up? If he isn’t harmless, why do we get him as a guest? Really, Buffy, you need to think these things through a lot more. You know how difficult your relationship with that other vampire was.”
“I’m not like Angel.” A strong voice cut across the quiet, almost ladylike discussion. “Know I could be a problem. That’s why I asked your Lass here to arrange for chains. Don’t want anyone getting any ideas now, do we?” Spike smiled and laughed, eying her with that special look he reserved for ladies he mentally classed as “Mums”, even if they were a century or so younger than he was. Unable to resist, though, he glanced at her daughter, parted his teeth slightly and curled his tongue behind them.
Buffy snorted. Spike was such a pig. She would take extra care to test the chains and the staple, and she knew exactly where to find a good, strong set of handcuffs.
And, no, she was not going to think about the time she’d seen them in her mother’s hand. Or about the exciting things she and Giles had probably done with them. Not exciting. No. Bad. Wrong. They’d just been in Giles’s apartment by coincidence when they had needed to chain a vampire into a bathtub. And what happened after that? Total stupid magic fluke.
Handcuffs were for restraining the bad guys and that was all she was going to use them for.
However sexy his smirk.
Yes, comments would be extremely welcome. Nurtured, even.