"The V Stands For Vampire" Fred/Spike, G
It's late, but it's here!
Title: "The V Stands For Vampire"
Author: Echo
Email: halo_and_horns@mail.com
Characters/Pairings: Fred/Spike
Classification: Fluff
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,696
Disclaimer: They are the brilliant creation of one Mr. Joss Whedon. I make no profit, so don't get on my case about using them for my own purposes. After all, I'm being nicer to them than Joss ever was.
Summary: Valentine's Day. A girl. A boy. (Sort of.) Love is in the air, or maybe it's just Fred's chemicals.
Notes: Written for inlovewithnight's Valentine's Day Fluffython , for agilebrit. It's unbeta'ed, so forgive me for any mistakes. I only wish this was even half as good as the amazing Faith/Mal story agilebrit wrote for me! Set in S5, right around Smile Time, but the events of that episode don't happen.
Notes 2: The request specifically included a guinea pig and bad poetry, so please, please don't hate me for the really bad poetry I put in here! I'm embarrassed to admit I wrote it, but at least I can say I was trying to make it bad...
It was a glowing white light in an otherwise pitch-black building that made him pause, then head toward the lab. It was probably one of Fred's little science geek employees wandering around like a loser with nothing to do on Valentine's Day, but he wouldn't take the chance that it was the queen bee herself, having forgotten exactly which day it was.
He poked his head in the door and was only mildly surprised to see Fred bent over one of the counter, fussing with glass bottles and beakers and tubes. A guinea pig sat up in a cage next to her, making little chirruping noises that instantly got on Spike's nerves. He ignored the sound of the little rodent and instead noticed how her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, wayward strands falling over her forehead as she muttered to herself incoherently.
"Fred? Pet? You forget there's life beyond the lab or something?"
She jumped in surprise, dropping a beaker full of purple liquid and swearing. Spike's eyebrow raised in amusement. "Spike! You shouldn't be lurking around, scaring me with your, um, lurking." She blew out a breath, the hair in her face lifting for a moment before settling back in her eyes. "I'm trying to figure out why Ross's new compound, which is supposed to be a substitute for guinea pig food, makes Newton sick. I almost have the formula figured out, and I think if I can just substitute-."
"You know I adore you, Fred, but really, I don't care." He grinned at her. "Your bio-babble makes my brain hurt."
The wonderful thing about Fred was that she didn't take the opportunity to slam him. Angel would have said he didn't have a brain to hurt. Gunn would have said anything with more than two syllables would make his brain hurt. Wes would have stiffened up and given him a condescending glare before walking away. Fred, however, blushed prettily and pushed her glasses up on her nose.
"Sorry, Spike," she said sheepishly. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone I talk to in here is Knox."
Spike leaned casually against one of the stainless steel tables. "Speaking of, where's tall, dark and boring? Shouldn't he be whisking you away to a romantic Valentine's Day dinner or some such thing?"
He paused, fondly recalling one of his favorite Valentine's meals. He and Dru had shared a lovely French couple. He always did say French food was best.
Fred frowned, her forehead wrinkling. "I think he would have," she admitted as she started cleaning up the various chemicals and breakable glass pieces. "He gave me a Valentine earlier, and I just had to tell him no. It wouldn't work."
"Pardon me for saying so, but to quote a little bit I once knew, 'duh'." Spike smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "Poor sod's a big gangly puppy around you."
Fred laughed a little as she closed the door to the last cabinet. She picked up her jacket and slid it on, glancing around to make sure everything was put away. "Maybe not gangly," she offered, grinning impishly. She picked up Newton's cage and set it in his corner, near the window so that he could get sunlight in the morning, and told him goodnight.
Spike fell into step with her as she exited the lab, turning the light off. His excellent night vision allowed him to see through the darkened halls with no problem, but he could feel her stumble next to him without the benefit of light to guide her.
He reached out and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Careful, pet, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he teased.
Fred shivered. His voice was low in her ear and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She fought the urge to press herself closer to his side.
Spike grinned cockily to himself in the dark. He could feel the acceleration of her heartbeat, could hear her quiet intake of breath. He knew he was affecting her, and he wasn't about to release her.
It was a good thing it was too dark for Fred to see the arrogant smirk on his face, though, or he might have had it wiped off of him.
"What about Percy?" he asked conversationally, breaking the silence. "He might not be as goofy about it, but he's as gone over you as Science Boy. Maybe even more so," he added as an afterthought.
Fred laughed and shook her head, the ends of her ponytail swishing against his arm. "Why does everyone always think that?" she asked. "We're just friends."
"Friends don't moon over each other the way he does you," Spike countered. "No, Pet, you'll never convince me he's not composing sonnets to you in his spare time."
Fred giggled. "I've never had anyone write me a sonnet," she mused. "It might be fun."
Spike winced. "I'd offer, but you'd be likely to throw yourself into a Hellmouth after you read it," he said ruefully.
Fred blinked as he opened the front door to Wolfram and Hart and her senses were bombarded with lights and sound and smells coming from all around her. She shook her head to clear it as she looked up at him. "Somehow I can't picture you writing poetry," she said, her voice skeptical.
He paused for a moment, thinking, then grimaced as he opened his mouth. "Her beauty most glorious/Her skin like fresh cream and honey/The sight of her lifts my soul/My days are once again sunny." He stopped, shuddering at the thought of the poem he'd once tried to write for a woman, one before Cecily. His poetry had gotten increasingly worse. "That's enough. If I say any more, you'll understand where I got the nickname 'Spike'."
Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, I want to know that story!" she said enthusiastically.
Spike groaned. "And there I go openin' up a can of worms that should have stayed close," he muttered.
Fred smiled affectionately as she wrapped her arm around his. "It's okay, you can keep your secret," she teased. "I'll still like you."
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Yeah, but just how much do you like me, that's the real question," he leered.
She flushed, turning her head away. She did like him, a little too much, and that was the problem. It was fine to be friendly and talk to each other, but she didn't like it when he flirted with her. It just made her disappointed because she knew he loved Buffy, and it wouldn't do any good to flirt back.
Spike frowned as she pulled away from him. "What's the matter, Fred?" he asked. "Did I say something wrong?"
She shook her head, smiling wistfully. "No, Spike, you didn't say anything wrong." She stared at her shoes as they walked, not feeling up to conversation anymore.
He stopped in the middle of the street and grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her out of her thoughts. "What's with the gloomy routine?" he demanded to know.
"Nothing!" she protested, and he scowled.
"Don't go telling me 'nothing'," he insisted. He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You were all bright and bubbly and Fred-like not two minutes ago, and now you won't talk." He studied her before a thought came to him. "Is it that it's Valentine's Day and you're stuck with me?"
She shook her head, her hair coming loose from the ponytail holder. It fell around her shoulders as she looked up at him. "That's not it at all," she promised. Her voice faltered. "I just wish I could be with someone who wanted to be with me."
Spike stared at her, amazed. "Love, do you have any idea what you're saying? Who wouldn't want to be with you?" He reached up and slid her glasses off, smiling fondly at her. "You're bloody gorgeous, and you're smart, and funny, and one of the most amazing women I've had the good fortune to meet," he said sincerely.
Fred's eyes sparkled at the compliments. "Why thank you, kind sir," she giggled, picking up the sides of her coat and bending at the knees in an imitation of a curtsy.
Spike looked at her speculatively. "So let me ask you something, Fred. If Percy and Science Boy aren't in the running for your heart, who is?"
Fred laughed ruefully. "No one, I'm afraid," she admitted.
He picked her hand up and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes on hers. "Then would it be alright with you if I threw my hat into the ring?"
Fred's heart thudded against her chest at his words. "You don't seriously mean you want me, do you?" she asked, stupefied.
Spike slid his arms around her, pulling her close, and where Fred swore her heart had stopped a moment ago, now it was pounding inside her like a stampede of horses. "I most certainly do mean it," he returned. "What do you say, Fred? Think you could give a vampire with a soul-and a personality-a chance?"
Fred couldn't form a response to save her life, so Spike took advantage of her wordless state and brought his lips to hers. Fred melted into him as he kissed the breath out of her, not having to worry about it himself. When he lifted his head, he grinned down at her arrogantly. "I thought that's what you might say."
She pulled away from him and slapped at his chest, laughing. "You're terrible."
He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him again, this time purposely holding her close and not letting her move away from him. "That I am, love." He suddenly burst out laughing, and she looked up at him curiously.
"What's the joke?"
Spike grinned wickedly. "I just imagined the look on Angel's face when he finds out." He squeezed her waist. "What do you say, Fred? It's Valentine's Day, and you deserve a treat." He winked. "Feel like dinner and a show?"
Title: "The V Stands For Vampire"
Author: Echo
Email: halo_and_horns@mail.com
Characters/Pairings: Fred/Spike
Classification: Fluff
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,696
Disclaimer: They are the brilliant creation of one Mr. Joss Whedon. I make no profit, so don't get on my case about using them for my own purposes. After all, I'm being nicer to them than Joss ever was.
Summary: Valentine's Day. A girl. A boy. (Sort of.) Love is in the air, or maybe it's just Fred's chemicals.
Notes: Written for inlovewithnight's Valentine's Day Fluffython , for agilebrit. It's unbeta'ed, so forgive me for any mistakes. I only wish this was even half as good as the amazing Faith/Mal story agilebrit wrote for me! Set in S5, right around Smile Time, but the events of that episode don't happen.
Notes 2: The request specifically included a guinea pig and bad poetry, so please, please don't hate me for the really bad poetry I put in here! I'm embarrassed to admit I wrote it, but at least I can say I was trying to make it bad...
It was a glowing white light in an otherwise pitch-black building that made him pause, then head toward the lab. It was probably one of Fred's little science geek employees wandering around like a loser with nothing to do on Valentine's Day, but he wouldn't take the chance that it was the queen bee herself, having forgotten exactly which day it was.
He poked his head in the door and was only mildly surprised to see Fred bent over one of the counter, fussing with glass bottles and beakers and tubes. A guinea pig sat up in a cage next to her, making little chirruping noises that instantly got on Spike's nerves. He ignored the sound of the little rodent and instead noticed how her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, wayward strands falling over her forehead as she muttered to herself incoherently.
"Fred? Pet? You forget there's life beyond the lab or something?"
She jumped in surprise, dropping a beaker full of purple liquid and swearing. Spike's eyebrow raised in amusement. "Spike! You shouldn't be lurking around, scaring me with your, um, lurking." She blew out a breath, the hair in her face lifting for a moment before settling back in her eyes. "I'm trying to figure out why Ross's new compound, which is supposed to be a substitute for guinea pig food, makes Newton sick. I almost have the formula figured out, and I think if I can just substitute-."
"You know I adore you, Fred, but really, I don't care." He grinned at her. "Your bio-babble makes my brain hurt."
The wonderful thing about Fred was that she didn't take the opportunity to slam him. Angel would have said he didn't have a brain to hurt. Gunn would have said anything with more than two syllables would make his brain hurt. Wes would have stiffened up and given him a condescending glare before walking away. Fred, however, blushed prettily and pushed her glasses up on her nose.
"Sorry, Spike," she said sheepishly. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone I talk to in here is Knox."
Spike leaned casually against one of the stainless steel tables. "Speaking of, where's tall, dark and boring? Shouldn't he be whisking you away to a romantic Valentine's Day dinner or some such thing?"
He paused, fondly recalling one of his favorite Valentine's meals. He and Dru had shared a lovely French couple. He always did say French food was best.
Fred frowned, her forehead wrinkling. "I think he would have," she admitted as she started cleaning up the various chemicals and breakable glass pieces. "He gave me a Valentine earlier, and I just had to tell him no. It wouldn't work."
"Pardon me for saying so, but to quote a little bit I once knew, 'duh'." Spike smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "Poor sod's a big gangly puppy around you."
Fred laughed a little as she closed the door to the last cabinet. She picked up her jacket and slid it on, glancing around to make sure everything was put away. "Maybe not gangly," she offered, grinning impishly. She picked up Newton's cage and set it in his corner, near the window so that he could get sunlight in the morning, and told him goodnight.
Spike fell into step with her as she exited the lab, turning the light off. His excellent night vision allowed him to see through the darkened halls with no problem, but he could feel her stumble next to him without the benefit of light to guide her.
He reached out and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Careful, pet, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he teased.
Fred shivered. His voice was low in her ear and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She fought the urge to press herself closer to his side.
Spike grinned cockily to himself in the dark. He could feel the acceleration of her heartbeat, could hear her quiet intake of breath. He knew he was affecting her, and he wasn't about to release her.
It was a good thing it was too dark for Fred to see the arrogant smirk on his face, though, or he might have had it wiped off of him.
"What about Percy?" he asked conversationally, breaking the silence. "He might not be as goofy about it, but he's as gone over you as Science Boy. Maybe even more so," he added as an afterthought.
Fred laughed and shook her head, the ends of her ponytail swishing against his arm. "Why does everyone always think that?" she asked. "We're just friends."
"Friends don't moon over each other the way he does you," Spike countered. "No, Pet, you'll never convince me he's not composing sonnets to you in his spare time."
Fred giggled. "I've never had anyone write me a sonnet," she mused. "It might be fun."
Spike winced. "I'd offer, but you'd be likely to throw yourself into a Hellmouth after you read it," he said ruefully.
Fred blinked as he opened the front door to Wolfram and Hart and her senses were bombarded with lights and sound and smells coming from all around her. She shook her head to clear it as she looked up at him. "Somehow I can't picture you writing poetry," she said, her voice skeptical.
He paused for a moment, thinking, then grimaced as he opened his mouth. "Her beauty most glorious/Her skin like fresh cream and honey/The sight of her lifts my soul/My days are once again sunny." He stopped, shuddering at the thought of the poem he'd once tried to write for a woman, one before Cecily. His poetry had gotten increasingly worse. "That's enough. If I say any more, you'll understand where I got the nickname 'Spike'."
Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, I want to know that story!" she said enthusiastically.
Spike groaned. "And there I go openin' up a can of worms that should have stayed close," he muttered.
Fred smiled affectionately as she wrapped her arm around his. "It's okay, you can keep your secret," she teased. "I'll still like you."
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Yeah, but just how much do you like me, that's the real question," he leered.
She flushed, turning her head away. She did like him, a little too much, and that was the problem. It was fine to be friendly and talk to each other, but she didn't like it when he flirted with her. It just made her disappointed because she knew he loved Buffy, and it wouldn't do any good to flirt back.
Spike frowned as she pulled away from him. "What's the matter, Fred?" he asked. "Did I say something wrong?"
She shook her head, smiling wistfully. "No, Spike, you didn't say anything wrong." She stared at her shoes as they walked, not feeling up to conversation anymore.
He stopped in the middle of the street and grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her out of her thoughts. "What's with the gloomy routine?" he demanded to know.
"Nothing!" she protested, and he scowled.
"Don't go telling me 'nothing'," he insisted. He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "You were all bright and bubbly and Fred-like not two minutes ago, and now you won't talk." He studied her before a thought came to him. "Is it that it's Valentine's Day and you're stuck with me?"
She shook her head, her hair coming loose from the ponytail holder. It fell around her shoulders as she looked up at him. "That's not it at all," she promised. Her voice faltered. "I just wish I could be with someone who wanted to be with me."
Spike stared at her, amazed. "Love, do you have any idea what you're saying? Who wouldn't want to be with you?" He reached up and slid her glasses off, smiling fondly at her. "You're bloody gorgeous, and you're smart, and funny, and one of the most amazing women I've had the good fortune to meet," he said sincerely.
Fred's eyes sparkled at the compliments. "Why thank you, kind sir," she giggled, picking up the sides of her coat and bending at the knees in an imitation of a curtsy.
Spike looked at her speculatively. "So let me ask you something, Fred. If Percy and Science Boy aren't in the running for your heart, who is?"
Fred laughed ruefully. "No one, I'm afraid," she admitted.
He picked her hand up and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes on hers. "Then would it be alright with you if I threw my hat into the ring?"
Fred's heart thudded against her chest at his words. "You don't seriously mean you want me, do you?" she asked, stupefied.
Spike slid his arms around her, pulling her close, and where Fred swore her heart had stopped a moment ago, now it was pounding inside her like a stampede of horses. "I most certainly do mean it," he returned. "What do you say, Fred? Think you could give a vampire with a soul-and a personality-a chance?"
Fred couldn't form a response to save her life, so Spike took advantage of her wordless state and brought his lips to hers. Fred melted into him as he kissed the breath out of her, not having to worry about it himself. When he lifted his head, he grinned down at her arrogantly. "I thought that's what you might say."
She pulled away from him and slapped at his chest, laughing. "You're terrible."
He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him again, this time purposely holding her close and not letting her move away from him. "That I am, love." He suddenly burst out laughing, and she looked up at him curiously.
"What's the joke?"
Spike grinned wickedly. "I just imagined the look on Angel's face when he finds out." He squeezed her waist. "What do you say, Fred? It's Valentine's Day, and you deserve a treat." He winked. "Feel like dinner and a show?"