(no subject)
Who: a_slayer_slays & univalent
What: Kicking old habits that die hard.
When: Late at night, closer to morning.
Where: The woods behind the school.
Summary: Talking that needs to be done face-to-face.
Rating: At least PG-ish, or so I assume.
Spike waited, just as he said he would. He was a lot of things, but a man who didn't keep his promises wasn't one of them. Even when he'd been soulless and evil, he'd kept his promises. Never really saw the point in saying you'd do something and then not carrying through with it. Why say it if you're not going to do it? Of course, the majority of his promises from back in the day had involved things that a very small percentage of people here would approve of, but the point of the matter was that he kept them. And in a way, he'd also kept the one he'd made shortly after arriving in Sunnydale that he never thought he'd see through to fruition: killing that third Slayer. He hadn't done it, she'd done it to herself to save Dawn, but he could easily twist it into something that was his doing-- if he'd been faster, stronger or had gotten up to Dawn before Doc had... But of course, that was something of the past.
And being here in this place full of wings and experimentation as if the Initiative had decided to pick him back up and drop him into Disney World after pulling out all the rides and the big, shiny castle didn't change that. After going out with a bang and being brought back for the sole purpose of making his grandsire doubt himself, Spike wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with himself anymore, let alone in this hell hole disguised as heaven. The only thing he could be certain of was that he wasn't going to fall back in with old habits.
They were something of the past, too. And unlike pretty trinkets from ancient worlds, those habits weren't things to be dug up and played with again. He'd had quite enough of that.
What: Kicking old habits that die hard.
When: Late at night, closer to morning.
Where: The woods behind the school.
Summary: Talking that needs to be done face-to-face.
Rating: At least PG-ish, or so I assume.
Spike waited, just as he said he would. He was a lot of things, but a man who didn't keep his promises wasn't one of them. Even when he'd been soulless and evil, he'd kept his promises. Never really saw the point in saying you'd do something and then not carrying through with it. Why say it if you're not going to do it? Of course, the majority of his promises from back in the day had involved things that a very small percentage of people here would approve of, but the point of the matter was that he kept them. And in a way, he'd also kept the one he'd made shortly after arriving in Sunnydale that he never thought he'd see through to fruition: killing that third Slayer. He hadn't done it, she'd done it to herself to save Dawn, but he could easily twist it into something that was his doing-- if he'd been faster, stronger or had gotten up to Dawn before Doc had... But of course, that was something of the past.
And being here in this place full of wings and experimentation as if the Initiative had decided to pick him back up and drop him into Disney World after pulling out all the rides and the big, shiny castle didn't change that. After going out with a bang and being brought back for the sole purpose of making his grandsire doubt himself, Spike wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with himself anymore, let alone in this hell hole disguised as heaven. The only thing he could be certain of was that he wasn't going to fall back in with old habits.
They were something of the past, too. And unlike pretty trinkets from ancient worlds, those habits weren't things to be dug up and played with again. He'd had quite enough of that.