Shards: Chapter 3
TITLE: Shards
RATING: PG
AUTHOR: Daisee Chain
FANDOM: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer
SPOILERS:Season Five
SUMMARY: Xander and Spike come to an uneasy truce after The Gift.
DISCLAIMER:
I have no use for either a vampire, or a carpenter. They both were created by, and belong to, some likely lad called Joss, and they may also belong to some evil empire masquerading as an entertainment company.
Whazzat? Wha? Who’s throwing sodding pillows at me?
Mmph. Bloody Boy!. Keep your pillows to yourself.
I hurl the damn thing back at him full force. It hits him smack in the face. If looks could kill that one still couldn’t have hurt me. One of the advantages of being dead.
“What’cha do that for?” I grizzle, only it comes out a little rough. For some reason my throat feels scratchy.
“Stop screaming.”
“I was never…”
“You were. They probably heard you down at reception. I’m just surprised no one’s knocked on the door to check we’re both ok. And why are all my heat packs used up?”
“Well you seem to be alright now. Enjoy your little near death experience? Wanna’ buy a second ride? And they haven’t checked because they think you’re my catamite and we were having fun. And I used up the heat packs trying to make sure you didn’t succeed.”
He evades my questions with one of his own. “Your what?”
“Your… You know what? Work it out for yourself. Or better yet, look it up. You do own a dictionary, don’t you? Or did you give it away with all your other worldly goods.”
“Since when have you been concerned with my welfare? Would it have hurt you to look the other way for once?” He seems genuinely pissed. “And work what out? I have no idea…”
His face is turning an interesting shade of purple.
“You let them think…”
“Steady on. I implied no such thing. If anybody got their tongues wagging it was you. Constantly getting yourself nearly killed, making me rescue you. I’m not the missing member of Thunderbirds you know.” To prove my point, I hunt round on the floor for my Nicotine of Life. “This place is so boring, the next shipment of beer is probably the most interestin’ thing they’ve got to discuss usually. We’re more interesting than beer, even without the scandal.” I pause to light up. “Well, I am anyway.”
Couple of deep inhalations. I’m not sure why I keep this up. I have no circulation, so it has no effect on me. But it’s good at keeping people at arms length, and helps with the tough guy image. Also, it annoys the hell out of my roommate, so that’s good. “And, yes, by the way. It would have hurt me. Your little witch would’ve had my eyes out with a spoon.”
“You were still screaming.”
Bugger. I was hoping he’d leave it alone. But of course he won’t. It’s not in his nature. He got his life so messed up in the first place because he couldn’t leave well enough alone. Pining like a puppy, following round a cute girl. When he’d found out she could snap him like a dry twig, any sane guy would’ve left. But no. He kept following her in the hope that one day she’d see she really needed him. Not that I can throw stones on the topic of masochistic crushes…
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Were. You. Screaming?”
“You know why. Drop it.”
“She never loved you.”
“Nor you.”
“She never could have loved you.”
“You neither.”
“I’m human.”
“That’s not why she couldn’t love you. She has a thing for us bad guys. Thought you would’ve figured it out by now.”
“Just because she was in love with Angel doesn’t mean they would all…”
“Oh come off it.” I wait for him to get the point, but he’s obviously been hit in the head once too often. “Angel, Parker, even the farm boy had his dark side. And don’t think I didn’t hear about that fling with fish boy from the swim team. Think about it. None of them would ever get the ‘Mothers of America’ Seal of Approval.” Yeah, I’m needling him. So what?
“So, she liked bad boys, that…”
“Men little Alex. She liked bad men.”
“So what are you saying?” He growls, and I swear I can see a backbone evolving even as he speaks.
“I’m sayin’, little boy, that you wouldn’t have measured up for years yet. Still got a lot of growin’ up to do.”
“I’m…”
“Weren’t man enough for her.”
For a dying man, he’s a fast mover. The pain in my skull radiates out, and I swear I can feel it in every hair. “Mr. Nice Guy” Alexander slams my head back into the wall again. And again. And…
I ride it out. Truth told, it’s the first time I’ve felt anything in weeks, and he has no idea how much trouble he’s in right now, or he wouldn’t be doing it. He’s moving on reflex. I could fight back, but the chip would prob’ly kick in. And a wounded, cornered animal will fight to the death anyway. Better for us both to just let him run out of energy. Besides, even if it is his fault, Willow’d kill me if I hurt him. And I don’t just mean metaphorically. Can’t tell any of them of course, but she’s starting to scare me just a bit.
Recognition kicks in at last. I can smell the chemicals in his body shift gear from anger to fear. The adrenalin rush is finally working on his brain, and he’s thinking fast now. He has me by the throat with both hands. He has a vampire by the throat with both hands. I don’t need to tell him he’s in trouble, he already knows. Chip or no chip, I could find a way to settle this score.
He may not have got that far yet, but he’s thinking fast about the best way out of this. I don’t say anything, just put my hand around his, around my own throat. There’s a sheen on his forehead. Sweat seeping out of his pores, scented with his anger, resentment, nausea, and, finally, terror. Took you long enough, you little wanker.
My hand is still on his. I squeeze. Not hard enough to set off the chip, just real friendly like, just enough to remind him of my strength. I expect his grip to ease off, and for him to put some distance between us.
I don’t expect the blunt agony of impact as his head slams into mine.
I only realize I’ve changed faces when he tries to bolt back from me. I’ve still got him by his hands though, so he just ends up tearing his shoulder muscles, and this time the pain in my head really is from the chip.
As we both collapse groaning on the floor I wonder briefly where the hell he learnt to head butt like that? Oh yeah. Must stop watching the footie in front of him. Obviously a bad influence.
At least he’s finally let go. He’s sprawled on his backside, looking like the idiot he is. The remains of my smoke are stuck to the bottom of his shoe, where he stood on it, after I dropped it in the scuffle. I let him lie there for a few minutes recovering, before I try and say something encouraging to smooth over the awkward silence.
“First time I’ve seen you move that fast in weeks.”
Ok. Judging by the seething on his face that was the wrong thing to say. I stand up, wait for him to do the same. And wait, and wait.
Jesus. You try and help a guy out occasionally…
He just stays on the floor, glaring randomly at objects in the room. Looking anywhere but at me, making noises like a steam engine. Why she wanted a useless sod like that as her friend, I’ll never understand.
I grab my leather jacket off the chair and pull it on. “If you need me, you know where to find me. Outside in the fucking snow.” The door closes on my last word. I have no idea if he stood up or not, but I can’t afford to worry about that anymore. If we don’t find this demon by tomorrow we won’t be back in time to avert the apocalypse of the week. Which I’m told is a bad thing.
RATING: PG
AUTHOR: Daisee Chain
FANDOM: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer
SPOILERS:Season Five
SUMMARY: Xander and Spike come to an uneasy truce after The Gift.
DISCLAIMER:
I have no use for either a vampire, or a carpenter. They both were created by, and belong to, some likely lad called Joss, and they may also belong to some evil empire masquerading as an entertainment company.
Whazzat? Wha? Who’s throwing sodding pillows at me?
Mmph. Bloody Boy!. Keep your pillows to yourself.
I hurl the damn thing back at him full force. It hits him smack in the face. If looks could kill that one still couldn’t have hurt me. One of the advantages of being dead.
“What’cha do that for?” I grizzle, only it comes out a little rough. For some reason my throat feels scratchy.
“Stop screaming.”
“I was never…”
“You were. They probably heard you down at reception. I’m just surprised no one’s knocked on the door to check we’re both ok. And why are all my heat packs used up?”
“Well you seem to be alright now. Enjoy your little near death experience? Wanna’ buy a second ride? And they haven’t checked because they think you’re my catamite and we were having fun. And I used up the heat packs trying to make sure you didn’t succeed.”
He evades my questions with one of his own. “Your what?”
“Your… You know what? Work it out for yourself. Or better yet, look it up. You do own a dictionary, don’t you? Or did you give it away with all your other worldly goods.”
“Since when have you been concerned with my welfare? Would it have hurt you to look the other way for once?” He seems genuinely pissed. “And work what out? I have no idea…”
His face is turning an interesting shade of purple.
“You let them think…”
“Steady on. I implied no such thing. If anybody got their tongues wagging it was you. Constantly getting yourself nearly killed, making me rescue you. I’m not the missing member of Thunderbirds you know.” To prove my point, I hunt round on the floor for my Nicotine of Life. “This place is so boring, the next shipment of beer is probably the most interestin’ thing they’ve got to discuss usually. We’re more interesting than beer, even without the scandal.” I pause to light up. “Well, I am anyway.”
Couple of deep inhalations. I’m not sure why I keep this up. I have no circulation, so it has no effect on me. But it’s good at keeping people at arms length, and helps with the tough guy image. Also, it annoys the hell out of my roommate, so that’s good. “And, yes, by the way. It would have hurt me. Your little witch would’ve had my eyes out with a spoon.”
“You were still screaming.”
Bugger. I was hoping he’d leave it alone. But of course he won’t. It’s not in his nature. He got his life so messed up in the first place because he couldn’t leave well enough alone. Pining like a puppy, following round a cute girl. When he’d found out she could snap him like a dry twig, any sane guy would’ve left. But no. He kept following her in the hope that one day she’d see she really needed him. Not that I can throw stones on the topic of masochistic crushes…
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Were. You. Screaming?”
“You know why. Drop it.”
“She never loved you.”
“Nor you.”
“She never could have loved you.”
“You neither.”
“I’m human.”
“That’s not why she couldn’t love you. She has a thing for us bad guys. Thought you would’ve figured it out by now.”
“Just because she was in love with Angel doesn’t mean they would all…”
“Oh come off it.” I wait for him to get the point, but he’s obviously been hit in the head once too often. “Angel, Parker, even the farm boy had his dark side. And don’t think I didn’t hear about that fling with fish boy from the swim team. Think about it. None of them would ever get the ‘Mothers of America’ Seal of Approval.” Yeah, I’m needling him. So what?
“So, she liked bad boys, that…”
“Men little Alex. She liked bad men.”
“So what are you saying?” He growls, and I swear I can see a backbone evolving even as he speaks.
“I’m sayin’, little boy, that you wouldn’t have measured up for years yet. Still got a lot of growin’ up to do.”
“I’m…”
“Weren’t man enough for her.”
For a dying man, he’s a fast mover. The pain in my skull radiates out, and I swear I can feel it in every hair. “Mr. Nice Guy” Alexander slams my head back into the wall again. And again. And…
I ride it out. Truth told, it’s the first time I’ve felt anything in weeks, and he has no idea how much trouble he’s in right now, or he wouldn’t be doing it. He’s moving on reflex. I could fight back, but the chip would prob’ly kick in. And a wounded, cornered animal will fight to the death anyway. Better for us both to just let him run out of energy. Besides, even if it is his fault, Willow’d kill me if I hurt him. And I don’t just mean metaphorically. Can’t tell any of them of course, but she’s starting to scare me just a bit.
Recognition kicks in at last. I can smell the chemicals in his body shift gear from anger to fear. The adrenalin rush is finally working on his brain, and he’s thinking fast now. He has me by the throat with both hands. He has a vampire by the throat with both hands. I don’t need to tell him he’s in trouble, he already knows. Chip or no chip, I could find a way to settle this score.
He may not have got that far yet, but he’s thinking fast about the best way out of this. I don’t say anything, just put my hand around his, around my own throat. There’s a sheen on his forehead. Sweat seeping out of his pores, scented with his anger, resentment, nausea, and, finally, terror. Took you long enough, you little wanker.
My hand is still on his. I squeeze. Not hard enough to set off the chip, just real friendly like, just enough to remind him of my strength. I expect his grip to ease off, and for him to put some distance between us.
I don’t expect the blunt agony of impact as his head slams into mine.
I only realize I’ve changed faces when he tries to bolt back from me. I’ve still got him by his hands though, so he just ends up tearing his shoulder muscles, and this time the pain in my head really is from the chip.
As we both collapse groaning on the floor I wonder briefly where the hell he learnt to head butt like that? Oh yeah. Must stop watching the footie in front of him. Obviously a bad influence.
At least he’s finally let go. He’s sprawled on his backside, looking like the idiot he is. The remains of my smoke are stuck to the bottom of his shoe, where he stood on it, after I dropped it in the scuffle. I let him lie there for a few minutes recovering, before I try and say something encouraging to smooth over the awkward silence.
“First time I’ve seen you move that fast in weeks.”
Ok. Judging by the seething on his face that was the wrong thing to say. I stand up, wait for him to do the same. And wait, and wait.
Jesus. You try and help a guy out occasionally…
He just stays on the floor, glaring randomly at objects in the room. Looking anywhere but at me, making noises like a steam engine. Why she wanted a useless sod like that as her friend, I’ll never understand.
I grab my leather jacket off the chair and pull it on. “If you need me, you know where to find me. Outside in the fucking snow.” The door closes on my last word. I have no idea if he stood up or not, but I can’t afford to worry about that anymore. If we don’t find this demon by tomorrow we won’t be back in time to avert the apocalypse of the week. Which I’m told is a bad thing.