Quarterback (Part 2/3)
Title: Quarterback (Part 2/3)
Creator: TheFoxinator
Rating: T
Setting: Season seven, between 7.06 "Him" and 7.07 "Conversations with Dead People."
Summary/Prompt: Conkers: The Harum Scarum Sanitarium (fluff)
Word Count: 603
Part One
Part Three
She does feel bad about it. Even though Spike agrees without protest and doesn’t say anything against the plan at all the whole time she explains it or the entire drive back to the high school that evening, she still feels bad. She wants to help him, but she wants to help everyone else too.
She sits next to Spike on the empty bleachers while they wait. “You can decide you don’t want to be here whenever you want,” she assures him. “You can just decide you’re not up for it and you and Xander can go home, okay?”
Spike stares out at the field blankly, but nods a little.
Buffy’s still not really sure what to make of this quiet Spike. He’s so different she can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. And now she’s not sure where he is, or how he feels. She’s not sure he understands her all the time, or if he even knows she’s real.
“I want you to get better,” she tells him.
She really does. She wants him to not have to try hard to decide if he’s crazy or not. She doesn’t want him to be confused. She wants him to be able to trust that she’s just her and not something scary. She wants him to never have to curl up in a corner shaking because of some group of ghosts driving him insane.
And she doesn’t want him hurting so much from his soul either.
The stadium lights switch on suddenly and Buffy has to blink furiously until she stops seeing spots. No ghosts or informant yet, but now they’ll be able to see them if they do.
Spike keeps staring out ahead but after a moment she can hear him mutter something too quietly for her to hear.
“What?”
“Thank you.” He starts turning his head, starts to look her in the eye again like he’s been refusing to do lately, then his gaze snaps away and he stares back at the field.
“Is there something out there?”
Silence.
“Spike?”
“No.”
They sit quietly on the bleachers and Xander joins them, taking his seat on the other side of Buffy. “Got the lights,” he says unnecessarily.
“Good job,” says Buffy approvingly.
He looks out at the deserted field. “How sure are we that he’s gonna show?”
Buffy glances his way. “R.J. or the ghost?”
“Does that actually change your answer?”
Buffy rolls her eyes. “Point.” R.J. was supposed to be here an hour ago. Maybe she should have pretended it was for more on-campus sexytimes. He probably would have shown up early.
Xander props his feet up on the bench in front of them and tears open a bag of Tito’s. He takes a handful and holds the bag out to Buffy. When she shakes her head, he leans around her to offer the bag to Spike.
Spike looks dubiously at the bag, then back to Xander. “Thought I wasn’t touching your food.”
Xander shrugs, his shoulder bumping into Buffy’s. “Okay, new rule. If I shove it in your face,” he gives the back a shake under Spike’s nose, “then you can touch. And consume.”
Spike eyes him a minute longer, then takes some chips from the bag.
Xander nods in approval and pulls his arm back. As it passes, Buffy snatches his wrist and peeks at his watch. “I gotta start actual patrol soon,” she says. “Twenty minutes? Then you can drop me back home and I can make sure Dawn’s doing her homework?”
“Sounds good,” says Xander, his mouth full. At least he doesn’t spit any crumbs on her.
Creator: TheFoxinator
Rating: T
Setting: Season seven, between 7.06 "Him" and 7.07 "Conversations with Dead People."
Summary/Prompt: Conkers: The Harum Scarum Sanitarium (fluff)
Word Count: 603
Part One
Part Three
She does feel bad about it. Even though Spike agrees without protest and doesn’t say anything against the plan at all the whole time she explains it or the entire drive back to the high school that evening, she still feels bad. She wants to help him, but she wants to help everyone else too.
She sits next to Spike on the empty bleachers while they wait. “You can decide you don’t want to be here whenever you want,” she assures him. “You can just decide you’re not up for it and you and Xander can go home, okay?”
Spike stares out at the field blankly, but nods a little.
Buffy’s still not really sure what to make of this quiet Spike. He’s so different she can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. And now she’s not sure where he is, or how he feels. She’s not sure he understands her all the time, or if he even knows she’s real.
“I want you to get better,” she tells him.
She really does. She wants him to not have to try hard to decide if he’s crazy or not. She doesn’t want him to be confused. She wants him to be able to trust that she’s just her and not something scary. She wants him to never have to curl up in a corner shaking because of some group of ghosts driving him insane.
And she doesn’t want him hurting so much from his soul either.
The stadium lights switch on suddenly and Buffy has to blink furiously until she stops seeing spots. No ghosts or informant yet, but now they’ll be able to see them if they do.
Spike keeps staring out ahead but after a moment she can hear him mutter something too quietly for her to hear.
“What?”
“Thank you.” He starts turning his head, starts to look her in the eye again like he’s been refusing to do lately, then his gaze snaps away and he stares back at the field.
“Is there something out there?”
Silence.
“Spike?”
“No.”
They sit quietly on the bleachers and Xander joins them, taking his seat on the other side of Buffy. “Got the lights,” he says unnecessarily.
“Good job,” says Buffy approvingly.
He looks out at the deserted field. “How sure are we that he’s gonna show?”
Buffy glances his way. “R.J. or the ghost?”
“Does that actually change your answer?”
Buffy rolls her eyes. “Point.” R.J. was supposed to be here an hour ago. Maybe she should have pretended it was for more on-campus sexytimes. He probably would have shown up early.
Xander props his feet up on the bench in front of them and tears open a bag of Tito’s. He takes a handful and holds the bag out to Buffy. When she shakes her head, he leans around her to offer the bag to Spike.
Spike looks dubiously at the bag, then back to Xander. “Thought I wasn’t touching your food.”
Xander shrugs, his shoulder bumping into Buffy’s. “Okay, new rule. If I shove it in your face,” he gives the back a shake under Spike’s nose, “then you can touch. And consume.”
Spike eyes him a minute longer, then takes some chips from the bag.
Xander nods in approval and pulls his arm back. As it passes, Buffy snatches his wrist and peeks at his watch. “I gotta start actual patrol soon,” she says. “Twenty minutes? Then you can drop me back home and I can make sure Dawn’s doing her homework?”
“Sounds good,” says Xander, his mouth full. At least he doesn’t spit any crumbs on her.