My jaw line tightened and my hands were about to clench into fists. Spike replied back with coldness, giving more than just the comeback but a long glare as well. I glared back, wanting - really hoping - that he would strike. I would’ve broken the coffee table in the room, taken one of the legs, and shoved it into his chest. I would’ve cherished the moment of him turning into meaningless dust.
I would’ve smiled if it weren’t for the annoyance plastered on my face. I was about to retort back to the toxic avenger before Buffy had hit me in the back of my head. In fact she was about to do it to Spike when she thought scolding us both was an even better idea.
Yelling, more annoyed than both Spike and me were at each other, she had ordered him to pack his things. Then, as if we were little children, she ordered us to sit on the couch. Maybe we were acting a little childish… nah. Spike was an idiot. That was the fact here. But I obeyed her, sitting at one end of the couch. My annoyance was clearly showing as I simply stared off into a space.
I’d spent the better part of a hundred years with Darla, Drusilla, and Spike. It was a deadly foursome. No one could stop us. That was until I was cursed with a soul. Everything seemed to fall apart there. But back then we got a long. Not a buddy-buddy type thing. We had our moments. There was that one time where things were intimate… ugh, I didn’t want to think about that one.
Looking around at the hellhole of a motel room, I felt Spike’s presence on the other end.
Bolognaise sauce never cleaned out, I’d tried, ah who cared anymore, let her find whatever she wanted to, didn’ matter. I turned hard eyes back on Buffy, probably the hardest look I’d given her in a long time, it lasted only a second o’course, till I realised who I was glaring at. I couldn’ even be pissed at her for bringin him here. Pussy whipped? Most likely.
“Shoulda known the reaction bringin him here would gain from both of us.”
I pointed out to her, I knew Nancy hated me, an I sure as night comes after day wasn’ fond of him, but no, she had t’bring him here, an then seem surprised by the way we react to one another. That’s like sticking y’hand in a fire n’wonderin why y’get burned.
My girl’s smarter than that… But then she’s not my girl is she.
As she insisted we lay off one another I didn’ say a word, but made up m’mind to do as she asked, unless he started it up again. As f’her other orders… she could dream.
I jus set my jaw an kept m’gob shut as she headed into the bathroom, I knew what she’d find. All the other goodies an the jar of pasta sauce, I’d opened it for a sniff earlier, hence the state of the carpet, jus wonderful.
“Yeah, it’s the Ritz.”
I replied tightly to the pratt, then headed into the kitcheny bit of the room. It wasn’ much, kind horse shoe shaped, counters, stove, microwave. All cheapstuff, but it worked and like most of the motel it was pretty good. Well worn some’d put it, beat the crap out of others might say, but it worked, just now seein the stove and stuff reminded me of the nice gesture I was gonna make.
I’d planned it out.
She was gonna come over, we were gonna talk, smile, listen to the soft music. Then I’d cook, show her some of the skills I’d been refinin. Then we’d eat, maybe curl up on the couch n’watch telly or sommin. Just us, together, like it had been, like it seemed it’d be again, despite all the soddin odds.
Really stupid I’d been if I thought anythin that romantic could go my way. Shoulda known it’d flop, shoulda known that kiss meant nothin. I get cookies? Hmmph, more like the crap end of the stick. I waited so long, searched so hard, dreamed of her night after night, back in my life, and it boils down to this.
Typical.
I’d snagged m’JD on the way intothe kitchen, an now set about findin a glass, god knows why I didn’ just chug it outta the bottle. Probably cos that meant still stayin over at the couch, and I was rebellin’, I wasn’ sittin there with him, I wasn packin, And I wasn goin back to her place with the two o’ them.
Not to watch them with the hand holdy, gooey eyed, mushy crap.
It definitely wasn't my night. Probably could even shoot for it not being my year. To me, that was a given, but to everyone else, they'd most likely argue the fact. I had good enough reason in their eyes to be having the best year ever. Too bad they didn't know and that hopefully they'd never know. Could you just see Faith? She'd be all grins inside knowing that she was sort of the chosen one. Un-effected by the whole spell thingy. Then again, maybe not. Maybe she'd feel left out of the loop. Guh! I need to not think about it and not think about everything that's here. From the food in the brown bag, to the CD player and the candles that were far from bathroom decorations. He was planning this whole night, and I end up ruining it.
Way to go Buffy. You screwed up even more. Not only do you throw Angel mixed signals, but you end up doing the same to Spike. To both men that don't deserve such.
Quickly shoving the food back into the bag and standing it up neatly, I added int he candles and the CD player. Folding the top over, I set the bag ontop of the closed toilet bowl lid a second before deciding to put it in the dry shower. That's when I noticed the flowers. Perfectly arranged in a bunch, ribbon tied around the stems. Setting the bag aside, I lifted the flowers to smell. Vanilla orchids. All of them in full bloom. The scent only hitting me now as I leaned my head in. Only to cause me to choke on a sob. I was totally and royally screwed up. I wanted to rush out there and just kiss Spike for the thought. Even if Angel was sitting there all grumpy pants on us. Then again, I wanted to just kiss Angel. God, I needed to not think of either of them that way. This should be business. Strictly platonic. Ha ha. Yeah, right. I could try. I knew that much. But succeeding? I'd end up breaking one of their hearts, and I didn't want to. I'd just have to try really ahrd at the whole, alone thing. I did it for over a year. Why not go for a couple more?
Setting the flowers on the back rim of the toilet, I truned around and went to work on what I initially came in here to do; wash up. With the water still having been running! Blonde moment much? Majorly. I fell too deep into the whole thought process, that I didn't remember the water running. Turning back to it, I shut it off. The water was high in the sink, so I had enough to use and rinse the dirt from the open wound. Snagging the towel from off the rack, I laid it to rest on the sink, hearing no talking going on out there, I piped up, "You better not be silently killing each other out there," and threw my hair up in a messy ponytail. Going to work on rinsing the cut. Sucking in a sharp breath of air through gritted teeth, it wasn't hard work to clean, but it so hurt like a bitch.
But finally I was done. The towel was soaked to the bone from the water and stained with blood. I'm not sure if it was because it was my own, or not, but the sight of blood easily wigged me out nower nights. Tossing the towel into the waste basket, since Spike wasn't going to be here much longer, I didn't care that it was chucked as garbage. Glancing into the mirror to make sure that I wasn't sporting any look of pure gore or just blood, I leaned in and wiped at the splatters of only god knew what on the mirror to get a better look, "I meant what I..." but I guess the sudden move was too fast. The spill to the floor was the last thing I remember before I surrendered to the comfort of another world.
I sat there watching Spike move about in the kitchen. He had taken a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass, which sort of surprised me. What was the glass for? As much as I hated the idiot, I knew him. And it was vice-versa. Hell, we’d spent the better part of some decades with each other, tearing to pieces the old world. Nowadays we would have rather wanted to see the other torn to pieces. We were bitter rivals and yet there was a kindred connection between us. As much as I hated the bastard there was still some respect. Just a little.
From out of the bathroom I heard Buffy’s voice using her motherly tone that she perfected with Dawn on us. She was probably expecting piles of dust on the floor when she exited the bathroom. But I was too tired and too wearily annoyed to fight or argue. My mind was wandering about. I quietly thought about her. God she was beautiful. Since the moment I had laid eyes on her, I felt something inside me. It was a gut-twisting, mind-numbing, soul-connecting feeling. That very moment when she stood in that bathroom staring into the mirror, listening to the hell that her mother and father were going through. I was there outside like some disgusting stalker. I watched those tears roll down her face. For that very moment I saw vulnerability and an opening to her soul. It may sound so corny but it’s just how I felt. It was a life-altering moment. She was so beautiful, beyond what I could have ever imagined, what anyone could imagine. At that moment I wanted to help her. I wanted to be a part of her life and to feel that feeling that she gave me every single time that I was with her.
Buffy saved me from a life living in sewers and scouring the ground for rats and other dirty-ridden rodents. In essence, she made me who I was today. Wow, did all that sound like some super-dramatic boring movie all of a sudden? My thoughts got the best of me sometimes.
Bringing myself back into reality, my nostrils noticed the faintest aroma of Vanilla Orchids. Now funny that something as beautiful as that was somewhere lying in this dump. My eyes moved back to Mr. Toxic. Or should I say Mr. Romantic. He had something planned for Buffy. It was not something that I liked nor did I want to think about. I guess I’m just glad I came a long.
But the powerful whiff of Jack Daniels overpowered the flowers and all other existing romantic scenarios of Buffy and Spike together. Standing up, I moved towards Spike and grabbed myself a glass of my own.
If you can’t stake’em, might as well drink with’em.
“ Always had good taste in booze, Spike.” I said as I waited to get myself a pour of JD.
That was until I heard a loud thud in the bathroom. My eyes shifted towards the bathroom door. Moving toward the door, I knocked, nearing my ear to the door. No answer. After a few more knocks and a few more non-replying answers, I got worried.
“ Buffy?” With some brute force, I pushed the door open and there I found her on the floor.
Moving to her side, I checked her breathing. It was shallow but she was still there. I called out to the only other soul in the room.
My jaw line tightened and my hands were about to clench into fists. Spike replied back with coldness, giving more than just the comeback but a long glare as well. I glared back, wanting - really hoping - that he would strike. I would’ve broken the coffee table in the room, taken one of the legs, and shoved it into his chest. I would’ve cherished the moment of him turning into meaningless dust.
I would’ve smiled if it weren’t for the annoyance plastered on my face. I was about to retort back to the toxic avenger before Buffy had hit me in the back of my head. In fact she was about to do it to Spike when she thought scolding us both was an even better idea.
Yelling, more annoyed than both Spike and me were at each other, she had ordered him to pack his things. Then, as if we were little children, she ordered us to sit on the couch. Maybe we were acting a little childish… nah. Spike was an idiot. That was the fact here. But I obeyed her, sitting at one end of the couch. My annoyance was clearly showing as I simply stared off into a space.
I’d spent the better part of a hundred years with Darla, Drusilla, and Spike. It was a deadly foursome. No one could stop us. That was until I was cursed with a soul. Everything seemed to fall apart there. But back then we got a long. Not a buddy-buddy type thing. We had our moments. There was that one time where things were intimate… ugh, I didn’t want to think about that one.
Looking around at the hellhole of a motel room, I felt Spike’s presence on the other end.
“ Nice place.”
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“Shoulda known the reaction bringin him here would gain from both of us.”
I pointed out to her, I knew Nancy hated me, an I sure as night comes after day wasn’ fond of him, but no, she had t’bring him here, an then seem surprised by the way we react to one another. That’s like sticking y’hand in a fire n’wonderin why y’get burned.
My girl’s smarter than that… But then she’s not my girl is she.
As she insisted we lay off one another I didn’ say a word, but made up m’mind to do as she asked, unless he started it up again. As f’her other orders… she could dream.
I jus set my jaw an kept m’gob shut as she headed into the bathroom, I knew what she’d find. All the other goodies an the jar of pasta sauce, I’d opened it for a sniff earlier, hence the state of the carpet, jus wonderful.
“Yeah, it’s the Ritz.”
I replied tightly to the pratt, then headed into the kitcheny bit of the room. It wasn’ much, kind horse shoe shaped, counters, stove, microwave. All cheapstuff, but it worked and like most of the motel it was pretty good. Well worn some’d put it, beat the crap out of others might say, but it worked, just now seein the stove and stuff reminded me of the nice gesture I was gonna make.
I’d planned it out.
She was gonna come over, we were gonna talk, smile, listen to the soft music. Then I’d cook, show her some of the skills I’d been refinin. Then we’d eat, maybe curl up on the couch n’watch telly or sommin. Just us, together, like it had been, like it seemed it’d be again, despite all the soddin odds.
Really stupid I’d been if I thought anythin that romantic could go my way. Shoulda known it’d flop, shoulda known that kiss meant nothin. I get cookies? Hmmph, more like the crap end of the stick. I waited so long, searched so hard, dreamed of her night after night, back in my life, and it boils down to this.
Typical.
I’d snagged m’JD on the way intothe kitchen, an now set about findin a glass, god knows why I didn’ just chug it outta the bottle. Probably cos that meant still stayin over at the couch, and I was rebellin’, I wasn’ sittin there with him, I wasn packin, And I wasn goin back to her place with the two o’ them.
Not to watch them with the hand holdy, gooey eyed, mushy crap.
Bollocks to that.
Reply
Way to go Buffy. You screwed up even more. Not only do you throw Angel mixed signals, but you end up doing the same to Spike. To both men that don't deserve such.
Quickly shoving the food back into the bag and standing it up neatly, I added int he candles and the CD player. Folding the top over, I set the bag ontop of the closed toilet bowl lid a second before deciding to put it in the dry shower. That's when I noticed the flowers. Perfectly arranged in a bunch, ribbon tied around the stems. Setting the bag aside, I lifted the flowers to smell. Vanilla orchids. All of them in full bloom. The scent only hitting me now as I leaned my head in. Only to cause me to choke on a sob. I was totally and royally screwed up. I wanted to rush out there and just kiss Spike for the thought. Even if Angel was sitting there all grumpy pants on us. Then again, I wanted to just kiss Angel. God, I needed to not think of either of them that way. This should be business. Strictly platonic. Ha ha. Yeah, right. I could try. I knew that much. But succeeding? I'd end up breaking one of their hearts, and I didn't want to. I'd just have to try really ahrd at the whole, alone thing. I did it for over a year. Why not go for a couple more?
Setting the flowers on the back rim of the toilet, I truned around and went to work on what I initially came in here to do; wash up. With the water still having been running! Blonde moment much? Majorly. I fell too deep into the whole thought process, that I didn't remember the water running. Turning back to it, I shut it off. The water was high in the sink, so I had enough to use and rinse the dirt from the open wound. Snagging the towel from off the rack, I laid it to rest on the sink, hearing no talking going on out there, I piped up, "You better not be silently killing each other out there," and threw my hair up in a messy ponytail. Going to work on rinsing the cut. Sucking in a sharp breath of air through gritted teeth, it wasn't hard work to clean, but it so hurt like a bitch.
But finally I was done. The towel was soaked to the bone from the water and stained with blood. I'm not sure if it was because it was my own, or not, but the sight of blood easily wigged me out nower nights. Tossing the towel into the waste basket, since Spike wasn't going to be here much longer, I didn't care that it was chucked as garbage. Glancing into the mirror to make sure that I wasn't sporting any look of pure gore or just blood, I leaned in and wiped at the splatters of only god knew what on the mirror to get a better look, "I meant what I..." but I guess the sudden move was too fast. The spill to the floor was the last thing I remember before I surrendered to the comfort of another world.
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From out of the bathroom I heard Buffy’s voice using her motherly tone that she perfected with Dawn on us. She was probably expecting piles of dust on the floor when she exited the bathroom. But I was too tired and too wearily annoyed to fight or argue. My mind was wandering about. I quietly thought about her. God she was beautiful. Since the moment I had laid eyes on her, I felt something inside me. It was a gut-twisting, mind-numbing, soul-connecting feeling. That very moment when she stood in that bathroom staring into the mirror, listening to the hell that her mother and father were going through. I was there outside like some disgusting stalker. I watched those tears roll down her face. For that very moment I saw vulnerability and an opening to her soul. It may sound so corny but it’s just how I felt. It was a life-altering moment. She was so beautiful, beyond what I could have ever imagined, what anyone could imagine. At that moment I wanted to help her. I wanted to be a part of her life and to feel that feeling that she gave me every single time that I was with her.
Buffy saved me from a life living in sewers and scouring the ground for rats and other dirty-ridden rodents. In essence, she made me who I was today. Wow, did all that sound like some super-dramatic boring movie all of a sudden? My thoughts got the best of me sometimes.
Bringing myself back into reality, my nostrils noticed the faintest aroma of Vanilla Orchids. Now funny that something as beautiful as that was somewhere lying in this dump. My eyes moved back to Mr. Toxic. Or should I say Mr. Romantic. He had something planned for Buffy. It was not something that I liked nor did I want to think about. I guess I’m just glad I came a long.
But the powerful whiff of Jack Daniels overpowered the flowers and all other existing romantic scenarios of Buffy and Spike together. Standing up, I moved towards Spike and grabbed myself a glass of my own.
If you can’t stake’em, might as well drink with’em.
“ Always had good taste in booze, Spike.” I said as I waited to get myself a pour of JD.
That was until I heard a loud thud in the bathroom. My eyes shifted towards the bathroom door. Moving toward the door, I knocked, nearing my ear to the door. No answer. After a few more knocks and a few more non-replying answers, I got worried.
“ Buffy?” With some brute force, I pushed the door open and there I found her on the floor.
Moving to her side, I checked her breathing. It was shallow but she was still there. I called out to the only other soul in the room.
“ Something’s wrong with her.”
Obviously.
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