Birthday wishes etc.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, fer1213!
You're a wonderful person, and seem to be accepting of my madness - which is all I can for from anyone.
Anyway, since you write such fantastic FITB fics on everyone else's birthdays, I thought was time that you received one (though it sadly won't be of the same calibre). This is my effort, set just after LMPTM:
Warnings: None.
Buffy couldn’t sleep, but didn’t want to leave her room: Giles was likely still downstairs, and she’d much rather deal with him in the morning.
She opened her window, wondering whether she should sneak out and patrol. She quickly decided against it. There were never any vampires these days, and besides, patrolling just wasn’t that much fun on her own.
She leant into the night air, trying to see the stars. The tree, the one that she’d been so grateful for in her teenage years, was completely blocking any view she might have. As she leant out a little further, something warm fell past her cheek, causing her to jump. She glanced down and watched the object fall to the ground. It was a cigarette end.
She smiled, shaking her head. After a moment’s decision, she hopped out onto the windowsill and looked up to the roof.
He was perched by the chimney, moodily smoking another cigarette. She didn’t do anything, and, after a moment, he glanced up.
“Oh. ‘S you.” He didn’t look very pleased to see her.
“Who were you expecting?”
“Weren’t expecting anybody. Just looking for a bit of peace an’ quiet.” He took another drag of his cigarette.
“Oh.” Peace and quiet. That meant solitude. “Sorry. I’ll -”
“Buffy.” He cut her off with a look. “Don’t be an idiot.” There was something he was trying to say, but she had no idea what it was. Glancing to the space next to him, he shifted closer to the chimney, a look on his face that she couldn’t recognise.
Understanding, she smiled again, and lifted herself up onto the roof. She sat a little away from him, lightly holding the tile on either side of her.
They sat in silence for a while. After another two cigarettes, Spike spoke:
“So. How’d you figure something was off, then? Earlier.”
“Oh.” She looked away from his serious, possibly suspicious, eyes. “It was just all this stuff Giles was saying. The Top Ten Tips on how to be a good general, and what I should do with “liabilities”.”
“I take it I was the liability.”
“Yeah.”
“Figures.” She watched him struggle to light another cigarette.
As he finally managed to produce a flame, she told him, “We’ll get rid of the trigger, y’know. Giles’ doo-hickey might not’ve worked, but we’ll find a way.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He took a drag.
“What? Of course it matters!” How could he not care? “The First has got a hold on you with its skanky, incorporeal hands, and we’re gonna make it let go. Hopefully while causing it some pain.”
“No,” he said with a small, infuriating smile. “It doesn’t matter because it’s gone.”
“Gone?” How had she missed that?
“Yeah. I sorted a few things out while Robbie was wailing on me.”
Comprehension dawned, and she smiled. “Spike! That’s great!” She wanted to hug him, and so she did, throwing her arms around his neck.
It fell silent very quickly.
Awkwardly, she sat back. “That’s good news,” she said, more quietly. He didn’t say anything, and just looked at her. The silence continued.
“For God’s sake, Spike!” Agitation made her fidget. “It was just a hug. We know each other well enough by now.” She felt guilty. He looked like he’d had the shock of his life.
“Do we?” He finally choked out.
“Do we what?”
“Know each other.” That was a joke. Of course they knew each other. Sometimes, Buffy thought that she knew Spike better than she knew her own ‘friends’. He definitely knew her better.
“I’d say so.”
“What…what does that make us, then?” So that was his question. One she wasn’t sure she had the answer to.
But then, if she thought about it, the answer was obvious.
“Close, Spike.” She found she couldn’t look at him. “That makes us close.”
Many happy returns! (I'm still not quite sure what that means...)
Quin.
You're a wonderful person, and seem to be accepting of my madness - which is all I can for from anyone.
Anyway, since you write such fantastic FITB fics on everyone else's birthdays, I thought was time that you received one (though it sadly won't be of the same calibre). This is my effort, set just after LMPTM:
Warnings: None.
Buffy couldn’t sleep, but didn’t want to leave her room: Giles was likely still downstairs, and she’d much rather deal with him in the morning.
She opened her window, wondering whether she should sneak out and patrol. She quickly decided against it. There were never any vampires these days, and besides, patrolling just wasn’t that much fun on her own.
She leant into the night air, trying to see the stars. The tree, the one that she’d been so grateful for in her teenage years, was completely blocking any view she might have. As she leant out a little further, something warm fell past her cheek, causing her to jump. She glanced down and watched the object fall to the ground. It was a cigarette end.
She smiled, shaking her head. After a moment’s decision, she hopped out onto the windowsill and looked up to the roof.
He was perched by the chimney, moodily smoking another cigarette. She didn’t do anything, and, after a moment, he glanced up.
“Oh. ‘S you.” He didn’t look very pleased to see her.
“Who were you expecting?”
“Weren’t expecting anybody. Just looking for a bit of peace an’ quiet.” He took another drag of his cigarette.
“Oh.” Peace and quiet. That meant solitude. “Sorry. I’ll -”
“Buffy.” He cut her off with a look. “Don’t be an idiot.” There was something he was trying to say, but she had no idea what it was. Glancing to the space next to him, he shifted closer to the chimney, a look on his face that she couldn’t recognise.
Understanding, she smiled again, and lifted herself up onto the roof. She sat a little away from him, lightly holding the tile on either side of her.
They sat in silence for a while. After another two cigarettes, Spike spoke:
“So. How’d you figure something was off, then? Earlier.”
“Oh.” She looked away from his serious, possibly suspicious, eyes. “It was just all this stuff Giles was saying. The Top Ten Tips on how to be a good general, and what I should do with “liabilities”.”
“I take it I was the liability.”
“Yeah.”
“Figures.” She watched him struggle to light another cigarette.
As he finally managed to produce a flame, she told him, “We’ll get rid of the trigger, y’know. Giles’ doo-hickey might not’ve worked, but we’ll find a way.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He took a drag.
“What? Of course it matters!” How could he not care? “The First has got a hold on you with its skanky, incorporeal hands, and we’re gonna make it let go. Hopefully while causing it some pain.”
“No,” he said with a small, infuriating smile. “It doesn’t matter because it’s gone.”
“Gone?” How had she missed that?
“Yeah. I sorted a few things out while Robbie was wailing on me.”
Comprehension dawned, and she smiled. “Spike! That’s great!” She wanted to hug him, and so she did, throwing her arms around his neck.
It fell silent very quickly.
Awkwardly, she sat back. “That’s good news,” she said, more quietly. He didn’t say anything, and just looked at her. The silence continued.
“For God’s sake, Spike!” Agitation made her fidget. “It was just a hug. We know each other well enough by now.” She felt guilty. He looked like he’d had the shock of his life.
“Do we?” He finally choked out.
“Do we what?”
“Know each other.” That was a joke. Of course they knew each other. Sometimes, Buffy thought that she knew Spike better than she knew her own ‘friends’. He definitely knew her better.
“I’d say so.”
“What…what does that make us, then?” So that was his question. One she wasn’t sure she had the answer to.
But then, if she thought about it, the answer was obvious.
“Close, Spike.” She found she couldn’t look at him. “That makes us close.”
Many happy returns! (I'm still not quite sure what that means...)
Quin.