Completed Les Mis
I have worked a few hours on this and now, finally, I have finished part 2 of Chapter 11 for Les Miserables. Do enjoy it and sorry for the grammatic errors, it's late. I'm tired but I ended it right were I wanted it to end.
I really dont know when I'll be able to start with the next part, hopefully soon! For those of you waiting for "My Brave Wendy"; it's 1/4 done, so I'll try to complete it tomorrow before I leave for Orlando.
------------------------------`
Buffy’s heart drummed within her small ribcage when she heard those words.
This was it, she was not fighting now for an apocalypse, to save lives she
didn’t know… she was fighting for the man she loved. To fail would mean to loose
him and she was certain she was not ready to do that.
She felt the crowd come alive as questions started to be thrown in the air,
murmurs, shouts and demands started to be made.
It was time. She lifted her skirts and quickly ducked behind the crowd,
finding herself behind the building by the courthouse. Mud splattered at her
feet, sticking to her fine skirts but she dragged on, ignoring the stench of
rotting fish and scurrying rats.
Sweat from the humid and sticky air clung to the back of her neck. At one
point she wondered herself if it was from the weather or from the adrenaline
rush she had missed so much these past few days.
“Milady!”
Buffy stopped, her head snapping to the voice. Relief went through her when
she saw Skinny.
“Everything is ready, Milady-“
“Jezebel might be a problem-“
“She’s been taken care of,” he told her, a sly smile on his face.
Buffy’s brows furrowed. “She has?”
“Trust us, Milady-we’ve waiting too long for this to let this go wrong.”
Skinny grabbed her and pulled her behind the building.
“Once I get back home I’m going to appreciate the 4th of July much
more.”
“What happens the 4th of July?” he asked, as they approached a
group of Revolutionaries assembled.
Buffy’s eyes went wide. “… nothing really…” Giles would be scolding her right
now for trying to mess with time-line patterns.
Skinny ignored her nervousness as he spoke gently and quietly to the man
before them. These were ordinary people, with ordinary lives… and they still had
ongoing battles.
She knew very well that in her early years as a slayer she would moan and
complain about her responsibility and why she couldn’t just be a normal girl. So
here it was before her. The legacy of warriors and normality. She supposed
everyone had a battle, somewhere and at sometime…. And battles were often fought
by ordinary people.
“Ready then, mates?” She heard Skinny ask them.
The men murmured in agreement.
“Jacob, you take your men up the west side. Luther, bring down your men
through Main; Buffy and I will take my men through Central… we should have every
corner covered.”
Buffy watched as the men did what they were told.
“Come along, milady… let’s save this husband of yours.”
--------------------------------`
Her greatest fear was that they were too late. Her other fear was that she
would have to kill a human for this not to happen.
She was a people’s warrior… not a people’s killer. So when a solider came
before as her rebel companions broke into shout she punched him so hard he was
knocked down and fell on the floor unconscious.
It began to rain then. Pouring down in the already smudgy floor, making a
muddy mess out of everything.
Shots of antiquated guns rang in her ears as she ducked and ran for the
stage.
She heard many shouts and saw many fighting ladies screaming and taking their
children away. So this was the face of humanity’s war? The war that they made
for themselves. The oppressed against the oppressor.
She saw him being dragged by three soldiers he was still struggling still
fighting until the bitter end.
“Spike!” she shouted into the crowd.
His tousled curls turned in the wind as he craned his head to face her.
“Buffy!” he shouted back.
One solider took that opportunity to knock him behind the head making his
head bounce.
“No!” She cried.
Rain was clouding her eyes, blood was gushing through her veins.
It was true that she had to hit various soldiers and men who clung to her
desperately… some soaked with blood of deadly wounds.
“Help me!” they cried but she had to wrench their desperate hands from her
clothes as she tried to get to Spike who was only a few feet from her but an
eternity away.
Buffy saw as they picked up the fallen Spike from the floor and dragged him
by his upper arms to safety from the crowd as war broke in the town square.
The before a flash of bright cloth brought her to a halt. There before her
bloody and very wet stood Jezebel. Her face was dark and her eyes were narrowed.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice loud enough to be heard above the
turbulent noise around her.
"Buffy Summers" she told her loosing not one moment. "Get out of my way."
With a smile Jezebel brought before her a pistol. A pistol with one bullet...
one bullet for one purpose.
"Lizzy... you were always a terrible liar, darling."
Buffy growled then reached back and punched her, knocking her three feet back
making her land on her butt. "But a much better fighter" she spat out and bend
down to grab the gun from her shocked and almost limp hand. "Come near me, my
husband or my family ever again and I will do so much more than knocking
you and your skanky ass around... bitch."
The she went after Spike.
----------------------------------------
He knew he was being dragged around, wet cold and loosing so much blood he
was sure he would die of blood loss before they had that chance to hang him or
he caught a loose bullet.
"Get him in the carriage!" he heard one of the men shout.
"Halston has been shot!" another solider cried.
He would've fought he really would've and he knew he would've won but he
could no longer feel his legs and his eye sight was getting fuzzier by the
minute.
"Then leave him! Get Caldwell in the carriage!"
He was nearly picked up once more.
"He's lost too much blood!"
"That's an order solider!"
Why was the world suddenly turning black and white, he wondered.
"What out--"
Then he was let go, he heard fighting but all he felt was his world slowly
shutting down.
It wasn't long before he felt himself being picked up, this time by gentler
hands.
"Spike!" her voice. "Spike please wake up!"
Buffy. That voice belong to Buffy. He knew he was sure of it. What a
lovely pleasure to die in the arms of the woman who you loved and she loved you
back.
"Buffy," it was a mere whisper from his lips.
"Hang on, Spike... just hang on for a moment longer."
Then he smiled.
------------------------------------------------
It felt as if he had slept for days... months and years maybe.
Maybe this had all been a dream, maybe he was really still in the street
gutter hoping that life would devour him and spit him back out.
But then he heard her voice, felt a cooling clothe on his brow and the warm
mattress under him.
He was obviously alive.
"Buffy..."
A small strong hand grasped his.
"I'm here..."
Same dialogue that had first exchanged when she had found him in the
hospital. But this time he didn't burst out crying. He didn't sob or beg for
forgiveness.
"You love me," he simply said.
His eyes were still closed but he could imagine her smiling.
"I do."
He chuckled. "Pet... I think I'm dying... I no longer feel any pain."
Then he heard her chuckle and wondered if she had really lost it. "You're the
farthest thing from dead I've ever seen in life."
One blue eye cracked open to look at her. She was a goddess. His Buffy was
always a goddess in shimmering gold. Her very long blonde hair was down and
cascading over them both. She wore a simply white dress that showed off her
shoulders and upper chest.
Stunning. Simply stunning. His warrior goddess.
"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.
"Really... Mrs. Hurst cured you... she's a witch from a coven that protects
slayers."
This information made him jump up. "Ow! Bloody hell!" he held his head with
both his hands.
"She mentioned the spell might give you a bad headache... but only for a
little while." Buffy's hands where on him, pushing him back down, fussing and
mollycoddling him.
"I'm fine--"
"No, you're not," she told him her voice stern. "You've only just been
healed."
"Just?"
"Yes... we just got here." Buffy was fussing over him, pulling him deeper
into the covers. "Just rest..."
His hand reached out to grab hers, his eyes went wide with desperation.
"Buffy..." he gulped. "What... w-what happened to the... to the baby.... to
o-our baby?"
Instinctively her hands went to her flat stomach.
"The children, Buffy... where are the children?"
Before she could offer a reasonable explanation the door to their room burst
open and in came Mrs. Hurst and Skinny, their arms filled with Caldwell
children.
"We've found them, milady!" Skinny cried, joyously.
James ran to his parents, dried tear track on his face.
"Oh darling!" Buffy cried, embracing him and pulling him against her.
"Mommy!" he sobbed.
Spike, on his side, was staring in awe at the tiny bundle in Mrs. Hurst's
arms.
"He's a fine strong boy, William." she told him, giving him a peek at the
tiny pink face. "Named William, rightly so."
"Oh Sarah!" Buffy cried, turning from James to take the alert Sarah from his
arms. When she recognized her mother she pulled out her arms to her. Buffy
pressed her chubby cheek against her chest and rocked her back and forth. "Oh
... my babies!"
James clung to her waist.
"William, my boy! You've got children coming from all sides!" Skinny chuckled
taking in his overwhelmed expression.
"Where were they?" Buffy asked, turning to Skinny.
"I found them."
A voice she had not heard before turned all of their attention to the door.
From the shadows emerged an older man, he was dressed in the finest suit,
white wig and a feathered hat under his arm. His blue eyes pierced through
Buffy, and cheekbones so prominent and so familiar....
"His Excellency, Lord Caldwell was kind enough to find your children,
milady." Skinny told her, himself a bit nervous. "William... you of course
remember your father."
If seeing small William had not sent him to hysterics this definitely would.
"Father?" Spike shook his head. "But... you died...."
Buffy looked from Spike to Lord Caldwell and her mouth dropped in awe. It was
Spike; years later. She arched a brow.... not bad, she thought, the future
looked prominent.
"I assure you I am quite alive and quite put out, if I may say so myself." he
walked closer to them. "Have a taught you nothing? These rebellions of
yours are hardly a way to conduct a revolution."
--------------------------------------------
TBC...
A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to finish. I have been really busy
with school and I'm quite sure I am not doing that well in my classes but I
promised to finish this chapter and so I did. Feel free to ask as many questions
as you like, but I don't promise to answer them all ;)
I really dont know when I'll be able to start with the next part, hopefully soon! For those of you waiting for "My Brave Wendy"; it's 1/4 done, so I'll try to complete it tomorrow before I leave for Orlando.
------------------------------`
Buffy’s heart drummed within her small ribcage when she heard those words.
This was it, she was not fighting now for an apocalypse, to save lives she
didn’t know… she was fighting for the man she loved. To fail would mean to loose
him and she was certain she was not ready to do that.
She felt the crowd come alive as questions started to be thrown in the air,
murmurs, shouts and demands started to be made.
It was time. She lifted her skirts and quickly ducked behind the crowd,
finding herself behind the building by the courthouse. Mud splattered at her
feet, sticking to her fine skirts but she dragged on, ignoring the stench of
rotting fish and scurrying rats.
Sweat from the humid and sticky air clung to the back of her neck. At one
point she wondered herself if it was from the weather or from the adrenaline
rush she had missed so much these past few days.
“Milady!”
Buffy stopped, her head snapping to the voice. Relief went through her when
she saw Skinny.
“Everything is ready, Milady-“
“Jezebel might be a problem-“
“She’s been taken care of,” he told her, a sly smile on his face.
Buffy’s brows furrowed. “She has?”
“Trust us, Milady-we’ve waiting too long for this to let this go wrong.”
Skinny grabbed her and pulled her behind the building.
“Once I get back home I’m going to appreciate the 4th of July much
more.”
“What happens the 4th of July?” he asked, as they approached a
group of Revolutionaries assembled.
Buffy’s eyes went wide. “… nothing really…” Giles would be scolding her right
now for trying to mess with time-line patterns.
Skinny ignored her nervousness as he spoke gently and quietly to the man
before them. These were ordinary people, with ordinary lives… and they still had
ongoing battles.
She knew very well that in her early years as a slayer she would moan and
complain about her responsibility and why she couldn’t just be a normal girl. So
here it was before her. The legacy of warriors and normality. She supposed
everyone had a battle, somewhere and at sometime…. And battles were often fought
by ordinary people.
“Ready then, mates?” She heard Skinny ask them.
The men murmured in agreement.
“Jacob, you take your men up the west side. Luther, bring down your men
through Main; Buffy and I will take my men through Central… we should have every
corner covered.”
Buffy watched as the men did what they were told.
“Come along, milady… let’s save this husband of yours.”
--------------------------------`
Her greatest fear was that they were too late. Her other fear was that she
would have to kill a human for this not to happen.
She was a people’s warrior… not a people’s killer. So when a solider came
before as her rebel companions broke into shout she punched him so hard he was
knocked down and fell on the floor unconscious.
It began to rain then. Pouring down in the already smudgy floor, making a
muddy mess out of everything.
Shots of antiquated guns rang in her ears as she ducked and ran for the
stage.
She heard many shouts and saw many fighting ladies screaming and taking their
children away. So this was the face of humanity’s war? The war that they made
for themselves. The oppressed against the oppressor.
She saw him being dragged by three soldiers he was still struggling still
fighting until the bitter end.
“Spike!” she shouted into the crowd.
His tousled curls turned in the wind as he craned his head to face her.
“Buffy!” he shouted back.
One solider took that opportunity to knock him behind the head making his
head bounce.
“No!” She cried.
Rain was clouding her eyes, blood was gushing through her veins.
It was true that she had to hit various soldiers and men who clung to her
desperately… some soaked with blood of deadly wounds.
“Help me!” they cried but she had to wrench their desperate hands from her
clothes as she tried to get to Spike who was only a few feet from her but an
eternity away.
Buffy saw as they picked up the fallen Spike from the floor and dragged him
by his upper arms to safety from the crowd as war broke in the town square.
The before a flash of bright cloth brought her to a halt. There before her
bloody and very wet stood Jezebel. Her face was dark and her eyes were narrowed.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice loud enough to be heard above the
turbulent noise around her.
"Buffy Summers" she told her loosing not one moment. "Get out of my way."
With a smile Jezebel brought before her a pistol. A pistol with one bullet...
one bullet for one purpose.
"Lizzy... you were always a terrible liar, darling."
Buffy growled then reached back and punched her, knocking her three feet back
making her land on her butt. "But a much better fighter" she spat out and bend
down to grab the gun from her shocked and almost limp hand. "Come near me, my
husband or my family ever again and I will do so much more than knocking
you and your skanky ass around... bitch."
The she went after Spike.
----------------------------------------
He knew he was being dragged around, wet cold and loosing so much blood he
was sure he would die of blood loss before they had that chance to hang him or
he caught a loose bullet.
"Get him in the carriage!" he heard one of the men shout.
"Halston has been shot!" another solider cried.
He would've fought he really would've and he knew he would've won but he
could no longer feel his legs and his eye sight was getting fuzzier by the
minute.
"Then leave him! Get Caldwell in the carriage!"
He was nearly picked up once more.
"He's lost too much blood!"
"That's an order solider!"
Why was the world suddenly turning black and white, he wondered.
"What out--"
Then he was let go, he heard fighting but all he felt was his world slowly
shutting down.
It wasn't long before he felt himself being picked up, this time by gentler
hands.
"Spike!" her voice. "Spike please wake up!"
Buffy. That voice belong to Buffy. He knew he was sure of it. What a
lovely pleasure to die in the arms of the woman who you loved and she loved you
back.
"Buffy," it was a mere whisper from his lips.
"Hang on, Spike... just hang on for a moment longer."
Then he smiled.
------------------------------------------------
It felt as if he had slept for days... months and years maybe.
Maybe this had all been a dream, maybe he was really still in the street
gutter hoping that life would devour him and spit him back out.
But then he heard her voice, felt a cooling clothe on his brow and the warm
mattress under him.
He was obviously alive.
"Buffy..."
A small strong hand grasped his.
"I'm here..."
Same dialogue that had first exchanged when she had found him in the
hospital. But this time he didn't burst out crying. He didn't sob or beg for
forgiveness.
"You love me," he simply said.
His eyes were still closed but he could imagine her smiling.
"I do."
He chuckled. "Pet... I think I'm dying... I no longer feel any pain."
Then he heard her chuckle and wondered if she had really lost it. "You're the
farthest thing from dead I've ever seen in life."
One blue eye cracked open to look at her. She was a goddess. His Buffy was
always a goddess in shimmering gold. Her very long blonde hair was down and
cascading over them both. She wore a simply white dress that showed off her
shoulders and upper chest.
Stunning. Simply stunning. His warrior goddess.
"Really?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.
"Really... Mrs. Hurst cured you... she's a witch from a coven that protects
slayers."
This information made him jump up. "Ow! Bloody hell!" he held his head with
both his hands.
"She mentioned the spell might give you a bad headache... but only for a
little while." Buffy's hands where on him, pushing him back down, fussing and
mollycoddling him.
"I'm fine--"
"No, you're not," she told him her voice stern. "You've only just been
healed."
"Just?"
"Yes... we just got here." Buffy was fussing over him, pulling him deeper
into the covers. "Just rest..."
His hand reached out to grab hers, his eyes went wide with desperation.
"Buffy..." he gulped. "What... w-what happened to the... to the baby.... to
o-our baby?"
Instinctively her hands went to her flat stomach.
"The children, Buffy... where are the children?"
Before she could offer a reasonable explanation the door to their room burst
open and in came Mrs. Hurst and Skinny, their arms filled with Caldwell
children.
"We've found them, milady!" Skinny cried, joyously.
James ran to his parents, dried tear track on his face.
"Oh darling!" Buffy cried, embracing him and pulling him against her.
"Mommy!" he sobbed.
Spike, on his side, was staring in awe at the tiny bundle in Mrs. Hurst's
arms.
"He's a fine strong boy, William." she told him, giving him a peek at the
tiny pink face. "Named William, rightly so."
"Oh Sarah!" Buffy cried, turning from James to take the alert Sarah from his
arms. When she recognized her mother she pulled out her arms to her. Buffy
pressed her chubby cheek against her chest and rocked her back and forth. "Oh
... my babies!"
James clung to her waist.
"William, my boy! You've got children coming from all sides!" Skinny chuckled
taking in his overwhelmed expression.
"Where were they?" Buffy asked, turning to Skinny.
"I found them."
A voice she had not heard before turned all of their attention to the door.
From the shadows emerged an older man, he was dressed in the finest suit,
white wig and a feathered hat under his arm. His blue eyes pierced through
Buffy, and cheekbones so prominent and so familiar....
"His Excellency, Lord Caldwell was kind enough to find your children,
milady." Skinny told her, himself a bit nervous. "William... you of course
remember your father."
If seeing small William had not sent him to hysterics this definitely would.
"Father?" Spike shook his head. "But... you died...."
Buffy looked from Spike to Lord Caldwell and her mouth dropped in awe. It was
Spike; years later. She arched a brow.... not bad, she thought, the future
looked prominent.
"I assure you I am quite alive and quite put out, if I may say so myself." he
walked closer to them. "Have a taught you nothing? These rebellions of
yours are hardly a way to conduct a revolution."
--------------------------------------------
TBC...
A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to finish. I have been really busy
with school and I'm quite sure I am not doing that well in my classes but I
promised to finish this chapter and so I did. Feel free to ask as many questions
as you like, but I don't promise to answer them all ;)