Keep On Keeping On
This fic was written for the New Year's Eve prompt at still_grrr.
It being New Year's Eve, I thought I'd post it now...
“I do beat him up a lot. To Spike, that's like third base.”
Keep On Keeping On
Spike was helping her fight again. What was it with guys and their perpetual need to butt in on her personal slayage time?
Buffy high-kicked a vamp in the head, grabbed her stake triumphantly, and watched, infuriated, as for the third time that night he was dusted moments before she got to him.
He was so annoying.
“Spike! Can you STOP doing that?!” She gestured indignantly at the pile of dust between them. “That was my vampire! Get your own!”
“Sorry, Slayer.” He grinned, and crashtackled a vamp who’d just appeared from behind a tree. “First come, first served and all that.” He dodged a punch, frowning. “What are you even doing here?”
“Uh… my job?” Another slayage candidate tried to jump her from behind, and she ducked, sending him smashing headfirst into a tombstone. “This is what I do.”
“New Year’s Eve, love. Shouldn’t you be off at some swanky party, puckering up to the first college boy you can find?”
Buffy dodged another blow from the vampire - who apparently hadn’t heard that the 60s were over. Or that dental hygiene was back in fashion. She kicked him in the shins, and turned her attention back to the conversation. “Shut up, Spike. Besides, vamps don’t take the night off. Why should I?”
“That shows what you know.” Spike off-handedly staked his opponent, put his hands in his pockets, and sat on top of a nearby tombstone, watching her calmly. “I’ll have you know a lot of us like the midnight countdown. A bit of Auld Lang Syne, and so forth.”
“Well, I don’t.” 60s vamp kicked her in the chest, and she fell to the ground. “And there are plenty of them right here in this cemetery, ready and willing to be dusted. Who am I to deny them their dreams?” Buffy picked up her stake from where it had landed and flipped herself back into a standing position. The vampire’s smile faded slightly.
Spike shrugged, lighting himself a cigarette. “Your choice. If you like, I can kiss you at midnight.”
She ducked under a right-hook, and looked at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Way I see it, it’s between me and Mr Halitosis 2001.” He raised an eyebrow. “Think he’s more your type?”
“Neither of you are my ‘type’.” Buffy punched Halitosis Guy in the face, and neatly blocked a return blow. “You’re both vampires. That’s just gross.”
“I’m sure Angel was happy to hear that.”
She glared at him - “Shut up.” - and completely failed to avoid a kick to the face.
“Hey!” Spike grabbed the vampire’s collar, preventing him from attacking a dazed Buffy. “That’s just rude, mate. Can’t you see we’re talking?”
Buffy picked up her stake - again - and glared at Spike some more. “Don’t you dare. That’s my vamp. I’ve been fighting him, so I get to kill him. That’s the rules.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Let him go.”
Spike shrugged, and released his hold. The vamp snarled and started towards her again.
Two punches, combo-block kick, and a really cool flippy kick. Oh yeah. She was on top of her game tonight.
“Less than two minutes left.” She dodged a punch and looked over at Spike, who’d pulled out a watch. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Made your choice yet? I’m sure we’re both ready and willing to fulfill your girlhood dreams for the midnight countdown.” He smiled. “Slay one and snog one - it’s up to you, love.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, kicked Halitosis Guy in the stomach, and put her hands on her hips. “You’re such a pain, Spike. Why can’t you just let me do New Year’s my way? I don’t have to go to a party.”
“Specially not now Captain Charisma isn’t around to drag you to one.”
Another glare.
He just held up the watch. “Oh, look. Ten seconds.”
Right-hook to 60s vamp.
“Nine.”
Ducking under a blow.
“Eight.”
“Get lost, Spike.”
“Seven.”
Elbow to the face.
“Six.”
Kick to the- damn. Missed.
“Five.”
Grab Mr Pointy.
“Four.”
Final kick.
“Three.”
Time for a pun.
“Two.”
“Here’s your final resolution!”
“One.”
And dust.
She looked up triumphantly… to find Spike with a disgusted look on his face. “Final resolution? Sorry, Slayer, but that was just pathetic.”
“You try coming up with something new and seasonally appropriate every time.”
“No thanks.” He pocketed the watch, and held out his hand. “Ready for your midnight smooching? Or would you rather head for Willy’s and see if anyone there will oblige? I hear there’re some Charano demons in town…”
Honestly! Why did he always have to be such a pain?
Buffy glared a final, withering glare at him. “I don’t need a New Year’s Eve party. I don’t like New Year’s Eve parties, you moron.” Then she hit him square on the nose, and walked off home… still oddly annoyed.
* * * * *
Spike got to his feet, feeling his nose gingerly. She’d punched him in the face! Right in the face! The Slayer had gone and punched him! On the nose and everything!
A grin slowly spread across his face - Score! - and he walked back to his crypt, a swagger in his step.
It being New Year's Eve, I thought I'd post it now...
“I do beat him up a lot. To Spike, that's like third base.”
Keep On Keeping On
Spike was helping her fight again. What was it with guys and their perpetual need to butt in on her personal slayage time?
Buffy high-kicked a vamp in the head, grabbed her stake triumphantly, and watched, infuriated, as for the third time that night he was dusted moments before she got to him.
He was so annoying.
“Spike! Can you STOP doing that?!” She gestured indignantly at the pile of dust between them. “That was my vampire! Get your own!”
“Sorry, Slayer.” He grinned, and crashtackled a vamp who’d just appeared from behind a tree. “First come, first served and all that.” He dodged a punch, frowning. “What are you even doing here?”
“Uh… my job?” Another slayage candidate tried to jump her from behind, and she ducked, sending him smashing headfirst into a tombstone. “This is what I do.”
“New Year’s Eve, love. Shouldn’t you be off at some swanky party, puckering up to the first college boy you can find?”
Buffy dodged another blow from the vampire - who apparently hadn’t heard that the 60s were over. Or that dental hygiene was back in fashion. She kicked him in the shins, and turned her attention back to the conversation. “Shut up, Spike. Besides, vamps don’t take the night off. Why should I?”
“That shows what you know.” Spike off-handedly staked his opponent, put his hands in his pockets, and sat on top of a nearby tombstone, watching her calmly. “I’ll have you know a lot of us like the midnight countdown. A bit of Auld Lang Syne, and so forth.”
“Well, I don’t.” 60s vamp kicked her in the chest, and she fell to the ground. “And there are plenty of them right here in this cemetery, ready and willing to be dusted. Who am I to deny them their dreams?” Buffy picked up her stake from where it had landed and flipped herself back into a standing position. The vampire’s smile faded slightly.
Spike shrugged, lighting himself a cigarette. “Your choice. If you like, I can kiss you at midnight.”
She ducked under a right-hook, and looked at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Way I see it, it’s between me and Mr Halitosis 2001.” He raised an eyebrow. “Think he’s more your type?”
“Neither of you are my ‘type’.” Buffy punched Halitosis Guy in the face, and neatly blocked a return blow. “You’re both vampires. That’s just gross.”
“I’m sure Angel was happy to hear that.”
She glared at him - “Shut up.” - and completely failed to avoid a kick to the face.
“Hey!” Spike grabbed the vampire’s collar, preventing him from attacking a dazed Buffy. “That’s just rude, mate. Can’t you see we’re talking?”
Buffy picked up her stake - again - and glared at Spike some more. “Don’t you dare. That’s my vamp. I’ve been fighting him, so I get to kill him. That’s the rules.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Let him go.”
Spike shrugged, and released his hold. The vamp snarled and started towards her again.
Two punches, combo-block kick, and a really cool flippy kick. Oh yeah. She was on top of her game tonight.
“Less than two minutes left.” She dodged a punch and looked over at Spike, who’d pulled out a watch. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Made your choice yet? I’m sure we’re both ready and willing to fulfill your girlhood dreams for the midnight countdown.” He smiled. “Slay one and snog one - it’s up to you, love.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, kicked Halitosis Guy in the stomach, and put her hands on her hips. “You’re such a pain, Spike. Why can’t you just let me do New Year’s my way? I don’t have to go to a party.”
“Specially not now Captain Charisma isn’t around to drag you to one.”
Another glare.
He just held up the watch. “Oh, look. Ten seconds.”
Right-hook to 60s vamp.
“Nine.”
Ducking under a blow.
“Eight.”
“Get lost, Spike.”
“Seven.”
Elbow to the face.
“Six.”
Kick to the- damn. Missed.
“Five.”
Grab Mr Pointy.
“Four.”
Final kick.
“Three.”
Time for a pun.
“Two.”
“Here’s your final resolution!”
“One.”
And dust.
She looked up triumphantly… to find Spike with a disgusted look on his face. “Final resolution? Sorry, Slayer, but that was just pathetic.”
“You try coming up with something new and seasonally appropriate every time.”
“No thanks.” He pocketed the watch, and held out his hand. “Ready for your midnight smooching? Or would you rather head for Willy’s and see if anyone there will oblige? I hear there’re some Charano demons in town…”
Honestly! Why did he always have to be such a pain?
Buffy glared a final, withering glare at him. “I don’t need a New Year’s Eve party. I don’t like New Year’s Eve parties, you moron.” Then she hit him square on the nose, and walked off home… still oddly annoyed.
* * * * *
Spike got to his feet, feeling his nose gingerly. She’d punched him in the face! Right in the face! The Slayer had gone and punched him! On the nose and everything!
A grin slowly spread across his face - Score! - and he walked back to his crypt, a swagger in his step.