gillo
in
still_grrr
Prompt 192 - Fic - "After the Deluge"
Title After the Deluge: Storm Clouds
Author gillo
Rating R, essentially for rude language(Hey, this is Spike, remember?)
Word Count 825
Prompt 192, The First
Characters/Pairing Spike/Buffy. In a way.
A/N: Crossposted from seasonal_spuffy, for economy of activity!Post-NFA Spuffy, rated possibly R for rude language. Comics? What comics? Nuffink to do with me, guvner.
After the Deluge
The rain finally drizzled to a halt around four, but the clouds hung low, compressing the sky and blocking the sun as it tried to rise. LA was a study in grey; deep grey blocks against intense grey skies, swirling in a chaotic pattern of dark on dark.
Just as well. No bloody sun to cock up a situation already fucked up beyond repair. Granted, no risk of sizzling quietly but painfully into a heap of dust either, but that might get to be a plus one of these days. For now, moving was the real issue. Could he, and was it worth it?
Worth a try. Possibly. Gotta give it a go at least.
He pulled one aching limb up towards his chest, gripping the knee with both hands. Then the other; he could feel the deep pain as bones grated against each other. There wasn’t much chance of standing from that posture, though, so he rolled over, hands on the ground. He pushed, his muscular arms unaccountably weak. No, it was too much - they wobbled and gave way. Jello arms now.
He drew a deep breath, flexed, exhaled. Not really necessary, but it persuaded his brain that action was imminent. Another shove and he was at least kneeling.
Spike wiped his face, roughly, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and pulled back to focus on the copious smears of red left there. He licked the hand - what? It was blood wasn’t it? Couldn’t waste it. Why was it always the nose?
Buffy, leaning against the wall, spoke. “You’re disgusting.” A familiar wrinkle distorted her nose.
For one blinding moment joy flared in his face, his eyes, his soul. Then common sense prevailed. “You aren’t her.”
She applauded, slowly. “No, I’m not. But don’t, please do not tell me you don’t like looking at me like this. Like her. “
“I don’t like looking at you like anyone. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Oh please. As if your sparkling act could destroy me, you silly vampire. This isn’t a stupid kids’ novel you know. Your little girl did well, I grant you that. My army, what you didn’t wipe out, is underneath the most firmly-closed Hellmouth in America. My Bringers are a spent force for a good while to come. But I am pure evil. I am the Senior Partner. How could I ever really be destroyed?”
He glared at her. That harsh expression, the cynical twist of the lips - those weren’t his girl, not even at her lowest.
“Do us a favour, love? Just piss off, OK?”
“The pretty sparkly vampire doesn’t want to be watched, eh? Never mind. The clouds won’t last much longer. And then, pouf! You’ll be ready for the Great Ashtray. Unless you crawl your way inside before then. Not going to happen, though, is it?”
“Bugger off. I mean it.”
“Or what? You’ll glare at me? What’s the point in moving anyway? Your cronies are gone. Your girl - she really is anyone’s girl now, you know - is partying away anywhere she wants. She hasn’t thought of you in a year. Just lie there, Spike. Dust is your friend now.”
He gazed hungrily at her. Not Buffy, no, but that face would never not be worth looking at from his point of view. She smiled, and her smile kept growing till it was as wide as the sky and she blinked into a horizontal line of light. Spike threw up a hand, instinctively, protecting himself from the brilliance. When he lowered it, she had gone.
“Interesting. Hadn’t factored that bastard into it again. I must be worth more than I’d thought. Stop chattering to yourself, Spike, and bloody move. Buffy needs me after all.”
So. Try again. Push. One knee up. Get one foot flat. Hands on knee. Push again.
That’s it. Now stagger. Wall. Upright, move, step. Another step.
Another step. A little run of staggering steps now. Corner of the street. Vampire here. Quick recovery. Something to be grateful for, perhaps.
He leant against the wall, every muscle screaming at him to stop. No sodding chance of that. Not now. Evil was bloody stupid, when you came to think of it. Now he knew he could make a difference, a sodding difference was going to be made. The First had shown him how little was left for him round here, but also that it was worth its while to have him gone.
He reached out a hand to the corner of the wall and pulled, wrenching his shoulder as he drew himself forward. Again. Round the corner now, and a rear entrance to the hotel was at the other end of this alley. It looked a mile away.
A mild breeze on his cheek made him look up. The clouds were definitely shifting, and that meant danger. Suddenly, that was worth thinking about again. His girl needed him, and he was bloody well going to her.
Author gillo
Rating R, essentially for rude language(Hey, this is Spike, remember?)
Word Count 825
Prompt 192, The First
Characters/Pairing Spike/Buffy. In a way.
A/N: Crossposted from seasonal_spuffy, for economy of activity!Post-NFA Spuffy, rated possibly R for rude language. Comics? What comics? Nuffink to do with me, guvner.
After the Deluge
The rain finally drizzled to a halt around four, but the clouds hung low, compressing the sky and blocking the sun as it tried to rise. LA was a study in grey; deep grey blocks against intense grey skies, swirling in a chaotic pattern of dark on dark.
Just as well. No bloody sun to cock up a situation already fucked up beyond repair. Granted, no risk of sizzling quietly but painfully into a heap of dust either, but that might get to be a plus one of these days. For now, moving was the real issue. Could he, and was it worth it?
Worth a try. Possibly. Gotta give it a go at least.
He pulled one aching limb up towards his chest, gripping the knee with both hands. Then the other; he could feel the deep pain as bones grated against each other. There wasn’t much chance of standing from that posture, though, so he rolled over, hands on the ground. He pushed, his muscular arms unaccountably weak. No, it was too much - they wobbled and gave way. Jello arms now.
He drew a deep breath, flexed, exhaled. Not really necessary, but it persuaded his brain that action was imminent. Another shove and he was at least kneeling.
Spike wiped his face, roughly, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and pulled back to focus on the copious smears of red left there. He licked the hand - what? It was blood wasn’t it? Couldn’t waste it. Why was it always the nose?
Buffy, leaning against the wall, spoke. “You’re disgusting.” A familiar wrinkle distorted her nose.
For one blinding moment joy flared in his face, his eyes, his soul. Then common sense prevailed. “You aren’t her.”
She applauded, slowly. “No, I’m not. But don’t, please do not tell me you don’t like looking at me like this. Like her. “
“I don’t like looking at you like anyone. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Oh please. As if your sparkling act could destroy me, you silly vampire. This isn’t a stupid kids’ novel you know. Your little girl did well, I grant you that. My army, what you didn’t wipe out, is underneath the most firmly-closed Hellmouth in America. My Bringers are a spent force for a good while to come. But I am pure evil. I am the Senior Partner. How could I ever really be destroyed?”
He glared at her. That harsh expression, the cynical twist of the lips - those weren’t his girl, not even at her lowest.
“Do us a favour, love? Just piss off, OK?”
“The pretty sparkly vampire doesn’t want to be watched, eh? Never mind. The clouds won’t last much longer. And then, pouf! You’ll be ready for the Great Ashtray. Unless you crawl your way inside before then. Not going to happen, though, is it?”
“Bugger off. I mean it.”
“Or what? You’ll glare at me? What’s the point in moving anyway? Your cronies are gone. Your girl - she really is anyone’s girl now, you know - is partying away anywhere she wants. She hasn’t thought of you in a year. Just lie there, Spike. Dust is your friend now.”
He gazed hungrily at her. Not Buffy, no, but that face would never not be worth looking at from his point of view. She smiled, and her smile kept growing till it was as wide as the sky and she blinked into a horizontal line of light. Spike threw up a hand, instinctively, protecting himself from the brilliance. When he lowered it, she had gone.
“Interesting. Hadn’t factored that bastard into it again. I must be worth more than I’d thought. Stop chattering to yourself, Spike, and bloody move. Buffy needs me after all.”
So. Try again. Push. One knee up. Get one foot flat. Hands on knee. Push again.
That’s it. Now stagger. Wall. Upright, move, step. Another step.
Another step. A little run of staggering steps now. Corner of the street. Vampire here. Quick recovery. Something to be grateful for, perhaps.
He leant against the wall, every muscle screaming at him to stop. No sodding chance of that. Not now. Evil was bloody stupid, when you came to think of it. Now he knew he could make a difference, a sodding difference was going to be made. The First had shown him how little was left for him round here, but also that it was worth its while to have him gone.
He reached out a hand to the corner of the wall and pulled, wrenching his shoulder as he drew himself forward. Again. Round the corner now, and a rear entrance to the hotel was at the other end of this alley. It looked a mile away.
A mild breeze on his cheek made him look up. The clouds were definitely shifting, and that meant danger. Suddenly, that was worth thinking about again. His girl needed him, and he was bloody well going to her.