fic: In the Dungeon (Buffy, 1500 words, PG)
Title: In the Dungeon
Rating: PG
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are not owned by me.
Characters: Spike, Buffy, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Renee, Dawn
Summary: Post NFA, Spike finds himself on a hillside in Scotland, and then encounters some friends from Sunnydale. Picks up where my story, At the Gates, leaves off... but you'll understand what's going on in this one even if you haven't read that one.
The full moon shown on a hillside in Scotland, and a leather-clad vampire fell from the sky. This time there was nothing to break his fall, and he landed in a bruised and swearing heap.
By the time Spike had disentangled himself and stood up, searchlights shown from the castle's ramparts, and weapons were trained on his chest.
"Bloody hell," he said.
Triggers were pulled and projectiles flew through the air. Spike managed to catch two of them, one in each hand, but there were too many. The third struck him square in the chest.
Spike awoke some time later, in a small space that was a cross between a jail cell and a hospital room -- or a dungeon. Some kind of tranquilizer, then. He fought to remember what had happened. Yeah, those arrows were metal, not wood.
He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, both black, but he didn't know if they'd been provided by the Powers That Be or by his captors. They weren't the same clothes he'd been wearing in that alley, because those had been torn and blood-stained long before the eight-legged demon had enveloped Spike and Angel in a fireball.
Tentatively, he sat up. The room spun, then settled into focus, and he thought about standing.
He'd been lying on a hard, narrow bed that was bolted to the floor. Beside it was a wall-mounted shelf, and on the shelf were a thermos and a plastic cup. The cup was full of water. The thermos smelled like blood, and Spike was suddenly ravenous.
"Right," he said, unscrewing the lid. "If they wanted me dead, they'd have killed me already." He brought the thermos to his lips, and then stopped. "What the hell?" He sniffed. "Sheep's blood? That's a new one." Then he shrugged, and drank it all in two long gulps.
The blood helped, even if it had an underlying taste of damp wool blanket. Spike looked around.
Opposite the bed was a door, metal, with a small window set into it at eye level. Above the bed was a high, narrow window covered with a black-out curtain -- so they knew he was a vampire and were taking pains to keep him from dusting. Or, at least, they were used to dealing with creatures of the night.
On the fourth wall, opposite the shelf, was a hook. And on the hook was Spike's duster -- or some semblance thereof.
"I don't know what he was doing out there, where he came from, or why we couldn't just dust him in the first place," said the blonde. She was talking to another girl while punching numbers on a cell phone. "But Buffy's orders were very clear."
"She was all, 'I'm having these prophetic dreams, so don't kill anyone. Just tranq. and hold anybody who shows up,'" agreed the brown-skinned girl. "But you're right, I don't know why we need to keep a vampire alive."
"Renee, alive isn't really the-- Hello?" she interrupted herself, as someone picked up the phone. "It's Caitlin. We picked up a vampire outside the walls. Medium height, slender build, bleached-blond hair. American passport, name of--"
"Spike William?" Spike said, incredulous. "They named me Spike William? I'll spend this entire lifetime explaining that's it's not Williams-with-an-S."
In the pockets of his coat -- if it was his -- Spike had found an American passport, a California driver's license last renewed in 2001, a bank card, and a Scottish driver's license, recently issued. All in the name of Spike William. He'd also found a package of low-nicotine chewing gum.
He had not found a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a flask, a wooden stake, or any kind of sharp weapon.
His captors had taken his boots. They would have taken stakes or knives if he'd had them, probably his lighter, and maybe a flask if it was made of glass. But they wouldn't have had any particular reason to take away the cigarettes that should have been there, and they certainly wouldn't have given him a pack of nicotine gum in their place. That had to be the Powers.
"Stupid bints," he muttered. With an exasperated sigh, he unwrapped a piece of gum and began to chew.
"I know who he is," Buffy said softly. "Caitlin, do not let him out of your sight. I'll be back as soon as I can, but in the meantime I want him under guard at all times, and I want you to keep this as quiet as you possibly can. Don't let my sister find out he's there... Hold on."
This last was because Willow was tugging her arm. She looked at her friend with eyebrows raised.
"Kennedy should be at home. She could guard him?"
"Great idea," Buffy said. She spoke into the phone again. "Get Kennedy back from wherever she is, brief her on the situation, and have her call us, ASAP. This man -- this vampire -- could be very dangerous, and I don't want him killing anybody. But nobody's killing him, either. No matter what happens. Understand?"
Buffy hung up, then dropped bonelessly onto the motel room bed. "This is it. The Big Comeback I kept dreaming about."
Willow gave her a sympathetic look. "You don't seem exactly happy about it."
Buffy sighed. "I won't be, until I know where he's been, what happened to him, whether he's evil." Her voice went soft. "If he still loves me."
"Are you evil?" Kennedy stood just inside the closed door, feet apart and arms crossed.
"Think you'll get an honest answer, pet?" Spike asked.
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "You can't charm me, you know."
"Because you're a lesbian?"
She glared. "Because I'm a slayer and a soldier. My orders are to keep you from killing or getting killed, whether you're evil or not."
Spike chewed his gum, thoughtfully. "You weren't so keen on following orders, last I knew."
"People change," Kennedy said. After a moment of silence, she continued. "I follow Buffy's orders, I get to order around a squad of my own. It evens out."
Spike chuckled.
"Why is this vampire so important?" asked Renee. She and Caitlin were lounging in the castle's expansive foyer.
Caitlin shrugged. "I wish I knew. But now Kennedy's on the project, just because she was in stupid old Sunnydale, and we have to pull extra lead shifts..."
"No you don't," said a cheerful voice. "Willow called, and I came home early. I'm taking Kennedy's shifts."
"Mr. Harris!" Renee grinned.
Xander smiled back. "I may not be a slayer, but I think I can fill in for a little while. And unless something goes terribly wrong, Buffy and Willow will be back the day after tomorrow."
The door swung in. Expecting Kennedy again, Spike barely opened his eyes. Then the smell -- feel -- essence of her overtook him. He stood up all at once, tripped in the silly slippers Kennedy had found him, and went crashing forward, right into Buffy's arms.
"Watch out!" Buffy said, taking his weight. Somehow they righted themselves.
"Sorry," Spike said, still clinging to her small frame. "I didn't mean--"
"No, I'm sorry," she interrupted.
"For what?" he asked.
She touched his face. Looking in his eyes, she could see that there really wasn't any need for an apology. Not anymore.
"For not doing this the last time I had the chance." She kissed him.
From the doorway, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Renee, and Caitlin watched.
"Oh, I get it," Renee said. "He's the vampire she fell in love with."
"One of 'em," Xander agreed.
Caitlin shook her head. "I don't get it." She turned and walked away.
"Get what?" asked Dawn, making her way down the hall. "Why is everybody--" she craned her neck, looking over the heads of the other women and past Xander.
"Spike?" she said, shoving her way between bodies and standing in the doorway, staring.
Buffy and Spike looked up.
"Hi, Niblet," Spike said, and went back to kissing Buffy's neck.
"Go away, Dawn," Buffy said. "And close the door when you go."
"You do realize that this is a dungeon?" Spike asked.
"Mm-hm."
"And seeing as the door's closed, we're now locked in, alone, together?"
Buffy cocked her head. "I had noticed that, yes."
Spike looked away, reaching for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't there. "Do you want to hear about what happened to me?"
"Not yet." Buffy touched his cheek. "Let's talk later, ok?"
"Oh." Spike looked back at her, and his voice was soft with amazement. "Ok."
She kissed him again, until they fell back onto the bed.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are not owned by me.
Characters: Spike, Buffy, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Renee, Dawn
Summary: Post NFA, Spike finds himself on a hillside in Scotland, and then encounters some friends from Sunnydale. Picks up where my story, At the Gates, leaves off... but you'll understand what's going on in this one even if you haven't read that one.
The full moon shown on a hillside in Scotland, and a leather-clad vampire fell from the sky. This time there was nothing to break his fall, and he landed in a bruised and swearing heap.
By the time Spike had disentangled himself and stood up, searchlights shown from the castle's ramparts, and weapons were trained on his chest.
"Bloody hell," he said.
Triggers were pulled and projectiles flew through the air. Spike managed to catch two of them, one in each hand, but there were too many. The third struck him square in the chest.
Spike awoke some time later, in a small space that was a cross between a jail cell and a hospital room -- or a dungeon. Some kind of tranquilizer, then. He fought to remember what had happened. Yeah, those arrows were metal, not wood.
He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, both black, but he didn't know if they'd been provided by the Powers That Be or by his captors. They weren't the same clothes he'd been wearing in that alley, because those had been torn and blood-stained long before the eight-legged demon had enveloped Spike and Angel in a fireball.
Tentatively, he sat up. The room spun, then settled into focus, and he thought about standing.
He'd been lying on a hard, narrow bed that was bolted to the floor. Beside it was a wall-mounted shelf, and on the shelf were a thermos and a plastic cup. The cup was full of water. The thermos smelled like blood, and Spike was suddenly ravenous.
"Right," he said, unscrewing the lid. "If they wanted me dead, they'd have killed me already." He brought the thermos to his lips, and then stopped. "What the hell?" He sniffed. "Sheep's blood? That's a new one." Then he shrugged, and drank it all in two long gulps.
The blood helped, even if it had an underlying taste of damp wool blanket. Spike looked around.
Opposite the bed was a door, metal, with a small window set into it at eye level. Above the bed was a high, narrow window covered with a black-out curtain -- so they knew he was a vampire and were taking pains to keep him from dusting. Or, at least, they were used to dealing with creatures of the night.
On the fourth wall, opposite the shelf, was a hook. And on the hook was Spike's duster -- or some semblance thereof.
"I don't know what he was doing out there, where he came from, or why we couldn't just dust him in the first place," said the blonde. She was talking to another girl while punching numbers on a cell phone. "But Buffy's orders were very clear."
"She was all, 'I'm having these prophetic dreams, so don't kill anyone. Just tranq. and hold anybody who shows up,'" agreed the brown-skinned girl. "But you're right, I don't know why we need to keep a vampire alive."
"Renee, alive isn't really the-- Hello?" she interrupted herself, as someone picked up the phone. "It's Caitlin. We picked up a vampire outside the walls. Medium height, slender build, bleached-blond hair. American passport, name of--"
"Spike William?" Spike said, incredulous. "They named me Spike William? I'll spend this entire lifetime explaining that's it's not Williams-with-an-S."
In the pockets of his coat -- if it was his -- Spike had found an American passport, a California driver's license last renewed in 2001, a bank card, and a Scottish driver's license, recently issued. All in the name of Spike William. He'd also found a package of low-nicotine chewing gum.
He had not found a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a flask, a wooden stake, or any kind of sharp weapon.
His captors had taken his boots. They would have taken stakes or knives if he'd had them, probably his lighter, and maybe a flask if it was made of glass. But they wouldn't have had any particular reason to take away the cigarettes that should have been there, and they certainly wouldn't have given him a pack of nicotine gum in their place. That had to be the Powers.
"Stupid bints," he muttered. With an exasperated sigh, he unwrapped a piece of gum and began to chew.
"I know who he is," Buffy said softly. "Caitlin, do not let him out of your sight. I'll be back as soon as I can, but in the meantime I want him under guard at all times, and I want you to keep this as quiet as you possibly can. Don't let my sister find out he's there... Hold on."
This last was because Willow was tugging her arm. She looked at her friend with eyebrows raised.
"Kennedy should be at home. She could guard him?"
"Great idea," Buffy said. She spoke into the phone again. "Get Kennedy back from wherever she is, brief her on the situation, and have her call us, ASAP. This man -- this vampire -- could be very dangerous, and I don't want him killing anybody. But nobody's killing him, either. No matter what happens. Understand?"
Buffy hung up, then dropped bonelessly onto the motel room bed. "This is it. The Big Comeback I kept dreaming about."
Willow gave her a sympathetic look. "You don't seem exactly happy about it."
Buffy sighed. "I won't be, until I know where he's been, what happened to him, whether he's evil." Her voice went soft. "If he still loves me."
"Are you evil?" Kennedy stood just inside the closed door, feet apart and arms crossed.
"Think you'll get an honest answer, pet?" Spike asked.
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "You can't charm me, you know."
"Because you're a lesbian?"
She glared. "Because I'm a slayer and a soldier. My orders are to keep you from killing or getting killed, whether you're evil or not."
Spike chewed his gum, thoughtfully. "You weren't so keen on following orders, last I knew."
"People change," Kennedy said. After a moment of silence, she continued. "I follow Buffy's orders, I get to order around a squad of my own. It evens out."
Spike chuckled.
"Why is this vampire so important?" asked Renee. She and Caitlin were lounging in the castle's expansive foyer.
Caitlin shrugged. "I wish I knew. But now Kennedy's on the project, just because she was in stupid old Sunnydale, and we have to pull extra lead shifts..."
"No you don't," said a cheerful voice. "Willow called, and I came home early. I'm taking Kennedy's shifts."
"Mr. Harris!" Renee grinned.
Xander smiled back. "I may not be a slayer, but I think I can fill in for a little while. And unless something goes terribly wrong, Buffy and Willow will be back the day after tomorrow."
The door swung in. Expecting Kennedy again, Spike barely opened his eyes. Then the smell -- feel -- essence of her overtook him. He stood up all at once, tripped in the silly slippers Kennedy had found him, and went crashing forward, right into Buffy's arms.
"Watch out!" Buffy said, taking his weight. Somehow they righted themselves.
"Sorry," Spike said, still clinging to her small frame. "I didn't mean--"
"No, I'm sorry," she interrupted.
"For what?" he asked.
She touched his face. Looking in his eyes, she could see that there really wasn't any need for an apology. Not anymore.
"For not doing this the last time I had the chance." She kissed him.
From the doorway, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, Renee, and Caitlin watched.
"Oh, I get it," Renee said. "He's the vampire she fell in love with."
"One of 'em," Xander agreed.
Caitlin shook her head. "I don't get it." She turned and walked away.
"Get what?" asked Dawn, making her way down the hall. "Why is everybody--" she craned her neck, looking over the heads of the other women and past Xander.
"Spike?" she said, shoving her way between bodies and standing in the doorway, staring.
Buffy and Spike looked up.
"Hi, Niblet," Spike said, and went back to kissing Buffy's neck.
"Go away, Dawn," Buffy said. "And close the door when you go."
"You do realize that this is a dungeon?" Spike asked.
"Mm-hm."
"And seeing as the door's closed, we're now locked in, alone, together?"
Buffy cocked her head. "I had noticed that, yes."
Spike looked away, reaching for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't there. "Do you want to hear about what happened to me?"
"Not yet." Buffy touched his cheek. "Let's talk later, ok?"
"Oh." Spike looked back at her, and his voice was soft with amazement. "Ok."
She kissed him again, until they fell back onto the bed.