a little ficlet I wrote...
Okay, so I had this idea niggling at me after last week's AtS, and I finally wrote it down yesterday. gamiila and calove looked it over for me, and said it was fit for human consumption lol, so here it is -
As Angel's footsteps faded away, Spike closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He was so bloody exhausted. "Maybe it's time to lie back and let these drugs do their thing," he mumbled to himself. The pain was threatening to overwhelm him once again, as it had in the frantic ride from the warehouse to the hospital. He dimly remembered Fred's warm touch on his face, begging him to stay with her until they reached the hospital.
His hands ... the doctors had told him that the reattachment was successful, and that his vampiric healing should kick in soon to take over for what they had done. He thought briefly about Dana, the poor psychotic slayer. He couldn't feel angry with her, just as he had said to Angel. Perhaps he hadn't been the one to kill her family and torture her, but he had certainly killed his share of people back in the day. He couldn't wrap his thoughts around that right now, though. He needed to heal. He needed to rest ... slowly, he started sinking down into the oblivion of the painkillers...
* * * *
As he swam back up to consciousness, he thought he heard a stifled gasp from the door. As he opened his eyes, he saw what he thought for sure was a drug-induced dream. He shook his head to scatter the fogginess, and blinked. No, she was still there, green eyes wide and wet with tears, a small hand covering the mouth he had kissed so many, many times. "B-buffy..?" he stammered.
She stood there by the door, not moving, but shock and sadness emanating from her. "Oh my God, Spike," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her. "Y-your hands..."
He sat up a bit straighter in the bed. "Yeah, well, uh, I guess I finally met another slayer who I couldn't kill or shag."
She finally broke out of her inaction and started walking over towards the bed. "This is nothing to joke about, dammit. She could have killed you!"
He briefly smiled. "I'm not very easy to kill, love, as you can see."
"And that is something that we are so going to have a talk about, when you're better. I have to hear that you're alive from Andrew? You couldn't call me yourself to tell me?"
Spike growled. "That little ponce - I told him I would deal with letting you know that I was back." He started then. Unpleasant flashes of his time under the influence of the First came back to him, as he remembered all those times it had appeared to him as Buffy. Could this be some lingering manifestation of the First, back to haunt him again? Or could the drugs the doctors were giving him really be causing him to hallucinate? "Buffy," he said, hesitation and longing in his voice, "could you come closer?"
Buffy crossed the rest of the way to the bed and sat on the edge of it, reaching her hand out to caress his face. The touch of her hand released the tension inside him, and he leaned into her touch, tears forming behind his eyes as he closed them again. "So, when were you going to tell me you were back?" she asked softly.
He opened his eyes again, blinking away some tears, and countered her question with his own. "How did you get here? I thought Andrew said you were in Rome."
Buffy gently brushed a tear from the corner of his eye with the thumb. "Well, it helps to be connected to one of the world's most powerful witches, you see. One phone call to Willow, and poof! instant transatlantic transportation." She traced his cheekbone and ran her fingers down to his jaw. "Andrew called me from here, once they had Dana contained, and told me everything. I nearly fainted when I realized you were alive. And I knew I had to get here right away after Andrew told me what happened."
Spike turned his head to press a kiss into her hand, which was still caressing his jaw. "Well, maybe I won't be too hard on the little boy after all," he murmured.
Buffy centered herself in front of Spike, to look him right in the eye. "Spike, why didn't you tell me you were back?"
He seemed to remember himself then, and pulled away from her hand on his face. "It's like I told Andrew. I couldn't very well just call you and say 'Hi Buffy, I'm back from saving the world and burning up', now could I? Bit anticlimactic after my little light show." He looked at her from the side of his eyes. " 'Sides, I told you to go and live your life outside Sunnydale. Didn't rightly think that my showin' up again would help living outside in the real world."
Buffy sighed, and firmly took his jaw in her hand and turned his face towards her. "Look," she said, "I've had enough 'it's for your own good' from Angel. I think I'm plenty old enough to figure out what's the right thing for me, and what I want my life to be, outside of Sunnydale, as you put it. I realized, after you died, that not being the only Slayer was a good thing, but that unless I had the right person to share things with me, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be."
Spike stared into her eyes, afraid. He had built up hope so many times before, only to be slammed down, that he couldn't stand it happening once again. "So, uh, what are you sayin'," he asked cautiously. "These drugs have a tendency to make me a bit wonky here, love, so I guess you'll have to spell things out for me."
Buffy leaned into him, carefully avoiding his hands, and whispered into his ear, "Maybe I'll have to show you what I mean." As she moved to kiss him, Spike thought to himself, "If this is a dream or a bloody hallucination, I don't ever want to wake up from it."
So let me know what you think, and if I should post this elsewhere :-)
I'll have my analysis of last night's AtS episode a bit later, after I run my husband to work.
As Angel's footsteps faded away, Spike closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He was so bloody exhausted. "Maybe it's time to lie back and let these drugs do their thing," he mumbled to himself. The pain was threatening to overwhelm him once again, as it had in the frantic ride from the warehouse to the hospital. He dimly remembered Fred's warm touch on his face, begging him to stay with her until they reached the hospital.
His hands ... the doctors had told him that the reattachment was successful, and that his vampiric healing should kick in soon to take over for what they had done. He thought briefly about Dana, the poor psychotic slayer. He couldn't feel angry with her, just as he had said to Angel. Perhaps he hadn't been the one to kill her family and torture her, but he had certainly killed his share of people back in the day. He couldn't wrap his thoughts around that right now, though. He needed to heal. He needed to rest ... slowly, he started sinking down into the oblivion of the painkillers...
* * * *
As he swam back up to consciousness, he thought he heard a stifled gasp from the door. As he opened his eyes, he saw what he thought for sure was a drug-induced dream. He shook his head to scatter the fogginess, and blinked. No, she was still there, green eyes wide and wet with tears, a small hand covering the mouth he had kissed so many, many times. "B-buffy..?" he stammered.
She stood there by the door, not moving, but shock and sadness emanating from her. "Oh my God, Spike," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear her. "Y-your hands..."
He sat up a bit straighter in the bed. "Yeah, well, uh, I guess I finally met another slayer who I couldn't kill or shag."
She finally broke out of her inaction and started walking over towards the bed. "This is nothing to joke about, dammit. She could have killed you!"
He briefly smiled. "I'm not very easy to kill, love, as you can see."
"And that is something that we are so going to have a talk about, when you're better. I have to hear that you're alive from Andrew? You couldn't call me yourself to tell me?"
Spike growled. "That little ponce - I told him I would deal with letting you know that I was back." He started then. Unpleasant flashes of his time under the influence of the First came back to him, as he remembered all those times it had appeared to him as Buffy. Could this be some lingering manifestation of the First, back to haunt him again? Or could the drugs the doctors were giving him really be causing him to hallucinate? "Buffy," he said, hesitation and longing in his voice, "could you come closer?"
Buffy crossed the rest of the way to the bed and sat on the edge of it, reaching her hand out to caress his face. The touch of her hand released the tension inside him, and he leaned into her touch, tears forming behind his eyes as he closed them again. "So, when were you going to tell me you were back?" she asked softly.
He opened his eyes again, blinking away some tears, and countered her question with his own. "How did you get here? I thought Andrew said you were in Rome."
Buffy gently brushed a tear from the corner of his eye with the thumb. "Well, it helps to be connected to one of the world's most powerful witches, you see. One phone call to Willow, and poof! instant transatlantic transportation." She traced his cheekbone and ran her fingers down to his jaw. "Andrew called me from here, once they had Dana contained, and told me everything. I nearly fainted when I realized you were alive. And I knew I had to get here right away after Andrew told me what happened."
Spike turned his head to press a kiss into her hand, which was still caressing his jaw. "Well, maybe I won't be too hard on the little boy after all," he murmured.
Buffy centered herself in front of Spike, to look him right in the eye. "Spike, why didn't you tell me you were back?"
He seemed to remember himself then, and pulled away from her hand on his face. "It's like I told Andrew. I couldn't very well just call you and say 'Hi Buffy, I'm back from saving the world and burning up', now could I? Bit anticlimactic after my little light show." He looked at her from the side of his eyes. " 'Sides, I told you to go and live your life outside Sunnydale. Didn't rightly think that my showin' up again would help living outside in the real world."
Buffy sighed, and firmly took his jaw in her hand and turned his face towards her. "Look," she said, "I've had enough 'it's for your own good' from Angel. I think I'm plenty old enough to figure out what's the right thing for me, and what I want my life to be, outside of Sunnydale, as you put it. I realized, after you died, that not being the only Slayer was a good thing, but that unless I had the right person to share things with me, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be."
Spike stared into her eyes, afraid. He had built up hope so many times before, only to be slammed down, that he couldn't stand it happening once again. "So, uh, what are you sayin'," he asked cautiously. "These drugs have a tendency to make me a bit wonky here, love, so I guess you'll have to spell things out for me."
Buffy leaned into him, carefully avoiding his hands, and whispered into his ear, "Maybe I'll have to show you what I mean." As she moved to kiss him, Spike thought to himself, "If this is a dream or a bloody hallucination, I don't ever want to wake up from it."
So let me know what you think, and if I should post this elsewhere :-)
I'll have my analysis of last night's AtS episode a bit later, after I run my husband to work.