Fic: Shared Space, Not Forever
Intro note: This is for alwaysjbj because: 1) You had to deal with annoyances yesterday. 2) You wrote me a Buffy-Angel friendship fic months ago and I said I'd do a Spike-Buffy friendship fic in return (and *cough* I actually did write this some time ago, but then you disappeared for a little while, and then I kind of *cough* forgot about it.) And an unrelated 3) I finished midterms today! (which should mean that I can spend more time on LJ again, but looking at how much time I've spent here recently, it only means that I can spend the same amount of time and not feel as guilty about it).
Title: Shared Space, Not Forever
Author: Semby
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em.
Summary: Future Spike and Buffy friendship story told in a series of ten drabbles.
Note: Unbeta'ed, because I get twitchy if I have to change around drabbles too much and still stick to the word restriction, and by golly, it was going to be drabbles! So, yeah, crit at will.
“Oy, pass the remote,” Spike requested, grabbing it out of Buffy’s hand in the process.
“Hey, I was watching-” she protested. “Oh, please, not this damn soap again.”
“I’ll have you know that this is fine quality television,” Spike defended. “People will watch this every day for years and be able to look back and remember times in their lives by what storyline was happening at the time. It’s nice to have something consistent when everything else is going to hell.”
“I’ve never really looked at it that way,” Buffy considered.
“Well, maybe you should.”
“The acting is still crappy.”
**
“Spike!” Buffy practically screeched. “I thought we agreed that when you use my dishes, though lord knows why you ever need to, you’d clean them up afterwards. I can’t even tell what this crusted-on goop is.”
“Alright, alright, calm down,” Spike said, entering the room. “I was planning to do the washing tonight.”
“And let the place get infested with ants first,” Buffy fumed, annoyed at his patronizing tone.
“Look, no ants, and I’ll clean it up just now.” Buffy still looked agitated. “Look, I’ll take you to the pub and buy you an apology drink after, right?”
“Fine. Okay.”
**
Buffy looked up disgustedly as Spike entered drunkenly with a young blonde in a tight dress clinging to him.
“Thought you were out,” he commented uncomfortably when he noticed her.
“No, but I can be, really soon,” she snapped, getting up and heading straight for her shoes and purse.
Spike disentangled himself from the girl at his side. “Hey, you don’t have to-”
“Oh, no. Don’t let me spoil your evening.”
Forgetting the other girl entirely, Spike stepped forward and grabbed Buffy’s arm. She pulled it away instantly, gave him a look filled with fury, and left in a huff.
**
Spike caught her halfway down the street. “Look, I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up about-”
“You don’t know why?” Buffy yelled, turning to face him. “Are you that dense?”
“Maybe I am! Because I thought you were the one who said we should be friends from now on. And you were the one who needed a place to stay a year ago and is still around to see who I bring home. What, friendship only counts if I’m still your love-struck sidekick?”
“No!”
“Then what? Because you’re just sounding like a jealous ex.”
She stormed off silently.
**
Spike woke up and headed to the kitchen for coffee. He found Buffy already pouring herself a cup from the pot. She looked up at the sound of his approach and froze for a moment. He met her gaze unwaveringly. Her face shifted into a scowl, and she placed the pot down and abandoned her half-filled cup. She grabbed her bag and walked outside into the daylight, where he couldn’t follow if he’d wanted to.
Spike sighed and walked to the counter. He only took one sip of the coffee before staring blankly into its depths until it went cold.
**
Spike looked up from his book as she walked into his room without knocking.
“Look, you were right,” Buffy began. “It’s unfair of me to get mad if you want to bring someone back to your own place. And I wasn’t supposed to stay here this long - I’ve already started checking apartment listings so I should be out of your hair soon enough.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said softly.
She intended to argue. “Spike-”
“It’s not necessary. Stay as long as you like. Stay forever. You’re always welcome.”
He got up and left the room without allowing her a response.
**
She walked into the apartment and was surprised at the smell that greeted her. She followed her nose into the kitchen where she found Spike hard at work.
“What is this?” she asked, surprised.
“Damn, I thought you’d recognize lasagna. Did I make it wrong?” he asked teasingly, pretending to look over the recipe with genuine concern.
“No, I mean - why?”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I guess,” she answered hesitantly.
“Well, then, that’s reason enough for me. It’s almost done. Have a seat - I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
He smiled as she walked away.
**
“So we’re good again?” she asked. “Just like that?”
“I’m not one to hold a grudge, pet. You’re the only person I can really talk to these days; I wouldn’t want to give that up.”
“I wouldn’t either.” She smiled, and then became abruptly solemn. “You know - you could wind up living thousands of years.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “This is news?”
She smiled and shook her head before her face sobered and she hesitantly added, “How long, do you think, until you forget about me?”
His face turned deadly serious. “Never.” She met his eyes uncertainly. “Never,” he repeated.
**
Spike took a seat next to Buffy on the couch. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, she smiled and handed him the remote.
“How did you know that was what I was after this time?” he asked.
”You’re very predictable,” she responded. He scoffed at that.
They sat in silence watching the television for several minutes before she softly stated, “You know I can’t.” He looked at her questioningly. “Stay forever - I can’t.”
“Shh,” he replied, giving her a pat on the knee. “Just let me pretend. Just let me have this one dream, for now.”
She nodded.
**
Buffy breezed through the room, lifting cushions and bending down to look under the couch. Spike simply sat and watched for several long moments before asking, “Lost something, pet?”
“I can’t find my crossbow.”
“It’s by the door.”
She turned and saw it resting there, laid out for all to see. She chuckled. “I’m doing a great job with those slayer observational skills. What would I do without you?”
“Have to make do with a stake,” he replied.
She turned back to him with a wistful smile. “No really. What would I do? I never want to find out again.”
Title: Shared Space, Not Forever
Author: Semby
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I still don't own 'em.
Summary: Future Spike and Buffy friendship story told in a series of ten drabbles.
Note: Unbeta'ed, because I get twitchy if I have to change around drabbles too much and still stick to the word restriction, and by golly, it was going to be drabbles! So, yeah, crit at will.
“Oy, pass the remote,” Spike requested, grabbing it out of Buffy’s hand in the process.
“Hey, I was watching-” she protested. “Oh, please, not this damn soap again.”
“I’ll have you know that this is fine quality television,” Spike defended. “People will watch this every day for years and be able to look back and remember times in their lives by what storyline was happening at the time. It’s nice to have something consistent when everything else is going to hell.”
“I’ve never really looked at it that way,” Buffy considered.
“Well, maybe you should.”
“The acting is still crappy.”
**
“Spike!” Buffy practically screeched. “I thought we agreed that when you use my dishes, though lord knows why you ever need to, you’d clean them up afterwards. I can’t even tell what this crusted-on goop is.”
“Alright, alright, calm down,” Spike said, entering the room. “I was planning to do the washing tonight.”
“And let the place get infested with ants first,” Buffy fumed, annoyed at his patronizing tone.
“Look, no ants, and I’ll clean it up just now.” Buffy still looked agitated. “Look, I’ll take you to the pub and buy you an apology drink after, right?”
“Fine. Okay.”
**
Buffy looked up disgustedly as Spike entered drunkenly with a young blonde in a tight dress clinging to him.
“Thought you were out,” he commented uncomfortably when he noticed her.
“No, but I can be, really soon,” she snapped, getting up and heading straight for her shoes and purse.
Spike disentangled himself from the girl at his side. “Hey, you don’t have to-”
“Oh, no. Don’t let me spoil your evening.”
Forgetting the other girl entirely, Spike stepped forward and grabbed Buffy’s arm. She pulled it away instantly, gave him a look filled with fury, and left in a huff.
**
Spike caught her halfway down the street. “Look, I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up about-”
“You don’t know why?” Buffy yelled, turning to face him. “Are you that dense?”
“Maybe I am! Because I thought you were the one who said we should be friends from now on. And you were the one who needed a place to stay a year ago and is still around to see who I bring home. What, friendship only counts if I’m still your love-struck sidekick?”
“No!”
“Then what? Because you’re just sounding like a jealous ex.”
She stormed off silently.
**
Spike woke up and headed to the kitchen for coffee. He found Buffy already pouring herself a cup from the pot. She looked up at the sound of his approach and froze for a moment. He met her gaze unwaveringly. Her face shifted into a scowl, and she placed the pot down and abandoned her half-filled cup. She grabbed her bag and walked outside into the daylight, where he couldn’t follow if he’d wanted to.
Spike sighed and walked to the counter. He only took one sip of the coffee before staring blankly into its depths until it went cold.
**
Spike looked up from his book as she walked into his room without knocking.
“Look, you were right,” Buffy began. “It’s unfair of me to get mad if you want to bring someone back to your own place. And I wasn’t supposed to stay here this long - I’ve already started checking apartment listings so I should be out of your hair soon enough.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said softly.
She intended to argue. “Spike-”
“It’s not necessary. Stay as long as you like. Stay forever. You’re always welcome.”
He got up and left the room without allowing her a response.
**
She walked into the apartment and was surprised at the smell that greeted her. She followed her nose into the kitchen where she found Spike hard at work.
“What is this?” she asked, surprised.
“Damn, I thought you’d recognize lasagna. Did I make it wrong?” he asked teasingly, pretending to look over the recipe with genuine concern.
“No, I mean - why?”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I guess,” she answered hesitantly.
“Well, then, that’s reason enough for me. It’s almost done. Have a seat - I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
He smiled as she walked away.
**
“So we’re good again?” she asked. “Just like that?”
“I’m not one to hold a grudge, pet. You’re the only person I can really talk to these days; I wouldn’t want to give that up.”
“I wouldn’t either.” She smiled, and then became abruptly solemn. “You know - you could wind up living thousands of years.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “This is news?”
She smiled and shook her head before her face sobered and she hesitantly added, “How long, do you think, until you forget about me?”
His face turned deadly serious. “Never.” She met his eyes uncertainly. “Never,” he repeated.
**
Spike took a seat next to Buffy on the couch. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, she smiled and handed him the remote.
“How did you know that was what I was after this time?” he asked.
”You’re very predictable,” she responded. He scoffed at that.
They sat in silence watching the television for several minutes before she softly stated, “You know I can’t.” He looked at her questioningly. “Stay forever - I can’t.”
“Shh,” he replied, giving her a pat on the knee. “Just let me pretend. Just let me have this one dream, for now.”
She nodded.
**
Buffy breezed through the room, lifting cushions and bending down to look under the couch. Spike simply sat and watched for several long moments before asking, “Lost something, pet?”
“I can’t find my crossbow.”
“It’s by the door.”
She turned and saw it resting there, laid out for all to see. She chuckled. “I’m doing a great job with those slayer observational skills. What would I do without you?”
“Have to make do with a stake,” he replied.
She turned back to him with a wistful smile. “No really. What would I do? I never want to find out again.”