Fic: Scooby Does
Title: Scooby Does
Creator: the_moonmoth
Rating: PG-13 for language
Setting: Alternate S6
Summary: A Scooby is as a Scooby does
Prompt: Leader of the Pack
Words: 905
Notes: Beta’d by Bewilde <3 Sequel to my fic The Ewer of Enheduanna, a S6 AU in which Buffy didn’t die, there’s a roadtrip to another dimension, demons who make them do it, and a happily ever after for our heroes. At the end of the story, Buffy decides she needs to introduce her new boyfriend to her friends. This is what happened after.
*
In the Magic Box, Willow presented Spike with a musty old book and a bright smile.
That had gone worse than it could’ve, he supposed, but better than it might’ve. The witches had simply nodded as though they’d been expecting it, which he wasn’t sure how to take. The shop girl had smiled at them both in a terrifying kind of way, and the boy’s mouth had kept flapping open and closed, body jerking occasionally from his bird’s not-so-discreet kicks under the table.
The watcher had been… well he’d been out the back when Buffy had spilled the beans about the two of them, and was now talking with Buffy off in one corner of the shop - whether getting the update privately or discussing something else, it was hard to tell, but both their faces were serious. That troubled him more than he cared to admit, but the slayer was his girl now, said she loved him and everything. He had total and utter faith in that love, however much thinking about it still sent shocks down his spine. So if he was trying to listen in to their conversation it wasn’t out of mistrust, no, but hello - evil, here. Just because he wasn’t practising anymore didn’t mean he had to be nice.
But there was Red, with her fluffy little jumper and her perky little smile, holding out the book to him like it was some kind of much-desired gift, and getting in his sodding way. He sighed, giving it up for a bad lot, and peered around her shoulder to where the others were sitting at the table researching this week’s monster mash.
“What’s this then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow but leaving his hands firmly in his duster pockets. The book was huge and the witch’s arms were twiggy - only so long she could wave it around like that with that expectant look on her face.
“Well, you’re one of the Scoobies now,” she said, with that annoyingly peppy tone to her voice that he’d come to associate with said group of sad hangers-on. “I thought you’d like to… you know… help.”
“Now wait just a moment,” he said, straightening from his slouch against the counter in outrage. “I’ve been helping your lot fight monsters for nearly a year, but it’s only now the slayer and me are b-”
“Ah-hem,” Buffy coughed pointedly from across the room.
“Are together,” he amended smoothly, “that you’re inducting me into your little gang? Well thanks ever so.”
“Oh,” Willow said, looking somewhere between abashed and - to his horror - intrigued. “I thought you were objecting to the book.”
“Yeah, well… that too,” Spike said lamely, though truth be told he’d also helped them with more than one research session of late, especially some of the more esoteric translations; the watcher’s knowledge of the demon dialects of the Klandoth region was really rather shocking. And if he was being honest - which he most definitely would not be in front of the children - there wasn’t much he wasn’t prepared to do to spend more time with Buffy.
“Spike, I… I guess I… I mean…” she fumbled over her words in that way he normally couldn’t help but find charming.
When the point was not forthcoming, Anya leaned a little closer and said, oh so helpfully,
“She’s trying to say we didn’t take you for the type to want to be part of a gang.”
“Yeah,” Xander added, looking almost gleeful. “’Cause gangs are for losers.”
Spike drew his duster more tightly around himself. “Yeah… well… I don’t! And they are!” He looked around the panoply of pitiful side-kicks. “I’m here for the slayer and the rest of you are stupid and I never really liked you anyway.”
As he stormed off out to the alley for a smoke, he just caught Willow’s plaintive, “What did I say?”
And the soft voice of her bird in response, “Leave him, sweetie. I think he just needs to take a moment to…”
He didn’t catch the end of what she said. Probably for the best. He respected Tara, in the way an evil thing could recognise and respect his opposite number. Be a shame to have to… hell…
He lit up in short, jerky movements, disproportionately annoyed. He was a leader, a lone wolf, a… a mercenary, at worst, even if it wasn’t cash he was paid in anymore. Not some pathetic little pack member panting at the alpha dog’s heels. He hadn’t been that since… since… Spike blew the smoke slowly out of his nose and cracked his neck, centring himself. He hadn’t been anyone’s puppy since Angelus had left them, and he had no intention of starting again now. He’d just finish his fag and then he’d go right back in there and tell them what for. They could take their stupid little initiations and words of acceptance and shove them up their tight little do-gooding arses.
He turned, and there Buffy stood in the doorway, and everything in him paused and hummed with love.
“You okay?” she asked.
Ah fuck, but it was all just words, wasn’t it? Because he’d follow his bright girl into the sun if she commanded it of him.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Gonna come back in?”
She turned without waiting for his response, and he looked for a second at his half-smoked cigarette before flicking it away, and following.
Creator: the_moonmoth
Rating: PG-13 for language
Setting: Alternate S6
Summary: A Scooby is as a Scooby does
Prompt: Leader of the Pack
Words: 905
Notes: Beta’d by Bewilde <3 Sequel to my fic The Ewer of Enheduanna, a S6 AU in which Buffy didn’t die, there’s a roadtrip to another dimension, demons who make them do it, and a happily ever after for our heroes. At the end of the story, Buffy decides she needs to introduce her new boyfriend to her friends. This is what happened after.
*
In the Magic Box, Willow presented Spike with a musty old book and a bright smile.
That had gone worse than it could’ve, he supposed, but better than it might’ve. The witches had simply nodded as though they’d been expecting it, which he wasn’t sure how to take. The shop girl had smiled at them both in a terrifying kind of way, and the boy’s mouth had kept flapping open and closed, body jerking occasionally from his bird’s not-so-discreet kicks under the table.
The watcher had been… well he’d been out the back when Buffy had spilled the beans about the two of them, and was now talking with Buffy off in one corner of the shop - whether getting the update privately or discussing something else, it was hard to tell, but both their faces were serious. That troubled him more than he cared to admit, but the slayer was his girl now, said she loved him and everything. He had total and utter faith in that love, however much thinking about it still sent shocks down his spine. So if he was trying to listen in to their conversation it wasn’t out of mistrust, no, but hello - evil, here. Just because he wasn’t practising anymore didn’t mean he had to be nice.
But there was Red, with her fluffy little jumper and her perky little smile, holding out the book to him like it was some kind of much-desired gift, and getting in his sodding way. He sighed, giving it up for a bad lot, and peered around her shoulder to where the others were sitting at the table researching this week’s monster mash.
“What’s this then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow but leaving his hands firmly in his duster pockets. The book was huge and the witch’s arms were twiggy - only so long she could wave it around like that with that expectant look on her face.
“Well, you’re one of the Scoobies now,” she said, with that annoyingly peppy tone to her voice that he’d come to associate with said group of sad hangers-on. “I thought you’d like to… you know… help.”
“Now wait just a moment,” he said, straightening from his slouch against the counter in outrage. “I’ve been helping your lot fight monsters for nearly a year, but it’s only now the slayer and me are b-”
“Ah-hem,” Buffy coughed pointedly from across the room.
“Are together,” he amended smoothly, “that you’re inducting me into your little gang? Well thanks ever so.”
“Oh,” Willow said, looking somewhere between abashed and - to his horror - intrigued. “I thought you were objecting to the book.”
“Yeah, well… that too,” Spike said lamely, though truth be told he’d also helped them with more than one research session of late, especially some of the more esoteric translations; the watcher’s knowledge of the demon dialects of the Klandoth region was really rather shocking. And if he was being honest - which he most definitely would not be in front of the children - there wasn’t much he wasn’t prepared to do to spend more time with Buffy.
“Spike, I… I guess I… I mean…” she fumbled over her words in that way he normally couldn’t help but find charming.
When the point was not forthcoming, Anya leaned a little closer and said, oh so helpfully,
“She’s trying to say we didn’t take you for the type to want to be part of a gang.”
“Yeah,” Xander added, looking almost gleeful. “’Cause gangs are for losers.”
Spike drew his duster more tightly around himself. “Yeah… well… I don’t! And they are!” He looked around the panoply of pitiful side-kicks. “I’m here for the slayer and the rest of you are stupid and I never really liked you anyway.”
As he stormed off out to the alley for a smoke, he just caught Willow’s plaintive, “What did I say?”
And the soft voice of her bird in response, “Leave him, sweetie. I think he just needs to take a moment to…”
He didn’t catch the end of what she said. Probably for the best. He respected Tara, in the way an evil thing could recognise and respect his opposite number. Be a shame to have to… hell…
He lit up in short, jerky movements, disproportionately annoyed. He was a leader, a lone wolf, a… a mercenary, at worst, even if it wasn’t cash he was paid in anymore. Not some pathetic little pack member panting at the alpha dog’s heels. He hadn’t been that since… since… Spike blew the smoke slowly out of his nose and cracked his neck, centring himself. He hadn’t been anyone’s puppy since Angelus had left them, and he had no intention of starting again now. He’d just finish his fag and then he’d go right back in there and tell them what for. They could take their stupid little initiations and words of acceptance and shove them up their tight little do-gooding arses.
He turned, and there Buffy stood in the doorway, and everything in him paused and hummed with love.
“You okay?” she asked.
Ah fuck, but it was all just words, wasn’t it? Because he’d follow his bright girl into the sun if she commanded it of him.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Gonna come back in?”
She turned without waiting for his response, and he looked for a second at his half-smoked cigarette before flicking it away, and following.