A Mess of Pottage, Commentary, Chapter 3
Chapter Three: Demonstration
Spike awoke the next day, after another bad dream, to a crick in his neck and the smell of breakfast burning. He made his way into the kitchen, where Alicia was swearing at the utensils and making an unholy mess. She had flour in her hair, sugar on her nose, and something unidentifiable stuck to her eyebrow. He appropriated the spatula from her and flipped a pancake over. “Sit down, Lish. Good God. Never yet met a Slayer who could bloody cook.”
That was a fun description to write. Surely I wasn't the only one to notice that in a houseful of women, Andrew was the one doing the cooking in S7 of Buffy?
It didn’t take him long to make something edible and slide it in front of her. He sat down on the opposite side of the breakfast table with a mug of blood and watched her eat. Nice to see a girl with a healthy appetite, he mused. He waited for her to finish before he said anything to her about the previous night--and then he was unsure how to bring it up.
And so was I, so I just dove in. Not one for subtlety, our Spike, in any case.
So, he dove right in. “Thought about our discussion?”
Immediately on the defensive, she snapped, “What else do you think I’ve been thinking about?”
He sighed and fiddled with his mug. “Look, pet, I know I’m the last one to be lecturing you on what being a Slayer is all about--”
“Then stop it! For God’s sake! Don’t you think I know?” She looked down at her empty plate. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Let’s get out. You and me. I’ll take you up to Cleveland, and you can cut your Slayer teeth on the Hellmouth up there. Actually, it’s not much of a Hellmouth, more of a Heckmouth, but still. We can leave tonight. Pop out the bloody window and get away before they even know we’re gone.”
Props to the Hubby for the "Heckmouth." I'm just glad I got the chance to use it sometime.
“You make it sound easy,” she said wistfully. “But I can’t do that. I owe Cain.”
“You don’t owe him a bloody thing. He’s lied to you from the beginning and would just as soon eat you as look at you.” Spike lit a cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke, exasperated. “Your sense of loyalty is admirable, but misplaced. You’ve sold your birthright, luv, and you’re not even getting a bowl of stew out of it.”
Woo! for a reference to the title. And hey...a comment on commentaries here: It's hard to do a commentary when the characters are pretty much saying what I want to say already, yeah? So, bear with me a bit.
“Oh, you’re one to talk about sold birthrights. You’re a vampire. Think betraying your own kind is just fine?” she sniped back.
He laughed at her. “Like it’s any equivalent, luv. I’m working on the side of what’s good and holy now. You, to put it mildly, aren’t.”
As I've said before, I'm pretty much a seat-of-the-pants writer. This conversation, however, was planned from the beginning. His point about her selling her Slayer birthright, and hers about him betraying his own, was a contrast I wanted to make from the very start.
She conceded his point with a twitch of her lips. “You really think we can get out?”
“Don’t see why not. We’ll train today, just like always, then wait for dark, maybe around midnight--and blow this place.”
She frowned, chewing her lip. “All right,” she said slowly. “If you really think it’s possible.” She stood up. “I’ll go get changed.”
She closed the bedroom door behind her. Clattering the dishes while putting them in the dishwasher, he didn’t hear her pick up her phone. “I need to talk to Cain.”
Well, that's not nice...
***
As soon as his feet touched the ground outside Alicia’s bedroom window, the hairs on the back of Spike’s neck warned him that all was not well. He had enough time to see a Louisville Slugger aimed at his head and hear the Slayer scream “Don’t hurt--” before the bat connected and sent him flying several yards. He was unconscious before he hit the dirt with bone-crunching force.
Not sure if this is an example of "spontaneous shifting POV" or not, but I wanted the first part to be Spike's POV, since he's the one being threatened here...and since he's out cold for the rest of it, the POV shifts to Alicia's for the rest of it. Eh, rules were made to be broken...as long as you know what the rules are, anyway.
Alicia rounded on Cain, who had wielded the weapon himself. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him!” she accused.
*snort* Yeah, the promise of a demon? She has a lot to learn.
He gave her a toothy grin. “I lied. Take the vampire to a cell,” he instructed a pair of minions. “You’ve done well, Slayer. Had you actually betrayed us, it would have been the death of both of you. As it is, only your fanged friend will be injured--and perhaps not so badly as all that, when all is said and done. Go back to your quarters. We’ll return him to you when we’re done with him.”
They're keeping a closer eye on her than maybe she realizes. This is his way of letting her know that they would have been caught regardless.
Alicia’s emotions were a mixture of anger, frustration, and remorse as she made her way into her apartment. She had thought she was doing the right thing by informing Cain of the escape attempt, but he’d promised...And now who knew how badly Spike was hurt? The demon boss had said that he’d bring the vampire back when they were done with him, but he’d broken one promise. What difference would it make if he broke another one?
Lesson learned, she told herself grimly. Never trust the word of a demon, ever again.
A tough, but necessary, lesson for our Slayer. After all, Cain didn't say he'd bring Spike back alive, did he?
***
Spike came to gradually, his head aching fiercely. He became aware that he was sitting upright in a ladder-backed chair, his arms twisted painfully behind him and bound to the crosspieces, and his ankles tied to the chair legs.
Mmmm. Bondage!Spike. *brain goes to happy place* Um. *cough* Yeah, this is the part where Cain makes a little wager with Spike. While beating him up. Nothing if not sporting, our head demon.
Cain had been leaning against the wall of the cell, but he pushed himself off and walked over to Spike when he saw him stirring. Baring his teeth in a mirthless leer, he slapped Spike across the face with a massive hand. “I told you she was ours.”
Unintimidated, Spike scowled up at him. “You’ve had her for seven months. I’ve been working with her for, what, four days?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Cain slapped him again, with the other hand. “The amount of time doesn’t matter. This Slayer is defective. She won’t come over to your side, because she has no desire to. In fact...” Cain stopped to think for a moment, then nearly knocked the chair over with the force of the punch he delivered to Spike’s jaw. “The Powers must be getting short on Slayers, if they called this one.”
Spike spat blood, dizzy but still fearless. “I seem to remember another Slayer that everyone had given up on. She even spent time in jail for murder. Then she fought by my side and helped save the world.”
Yay, more continuity. The theme of redemption was played out pretty well through Faith, I thought, and it was nice to be able to bring her up.
Cain scoffed. “Alicia has far too great a sense of self-preservation to throw her life away on such a foolish endeavor. She won’t be leaving with you.” This time the chair fell over backwards, and he knocked Spike unconscious. “Ever.”
***
Alicia leaped to her feet when they hammered on her door. She wrenched it open to find Spike lying senseless on her doorstep and a pair of Odobenus demons walking away down the hall, apparently after dumping him there.
She's a bit anxious. After all, she blames herself for what happened to Spike. Thus the "leaping" and the "wrenching." I likes me my action words, I does.
She breathed a sigh of relief for her Slayer strength as she picked him up and carried him inside, and thanked whatever Powers That Were that Spike hadn’t been returned to her in an ashtray. She noted with sorrow the bruises and blood on his face, and went to get a washcloth so she could bathe his wounds.
Slayer strength is handy sometimes. This isn't the first time I've had a Slayer carry Spike somewhere. Since Buffy could carry a big old pipe thing all by herself, and pick up the Troll Hammer (that Spike could barely lift) with one hand, and run while carrying Dawn, I don't think it's a stretch.
When she came back to the living room, he was stirring on the couch, starting to come around and swearing a little at the pain in his head. “Shh,” she soothed him, while she mopped his split lip. “It’s all right.”
“Bloody hell. You sure about that?”
“Well, you’re not a big pile of dust,” Alicia said through tears, “so I guess you’ll live, anyway.”
Oh, look. She feels bad.
“Here, now, pet.” Spike struggled to sit up, but fell back with a little moan that he tried to hide from her. “What’s with the waterworks?”
“It’s my fault he hurt you. If I hadn’t told...”
“You think they wouldn’t have stopped us anyway? And then it might be me tendin’ you, instead of the other way ‘round. Think I like it better this way. By the by, luv, that pain you’re feelin’? That’s your conscience telling you that you made right bollocks-up of the situation. Thought I’d let you know that, seeing as your conscience hasn’t really had a workout until now.”
As Spike brings the point home.
“Oh, shut up. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And it won’t happen again.”
“Too bloody right it won’t. We’ll pick a much more opportune moment for our next escape attempt. And, for what it’s worth, I forgive you,” he said easily.
I thought that forgiveness was important here. However, note that there are still consequences. He doesn't trust her anymore. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting, necessarily.
Alicia rocked back on her heels. “You what?”
“I forgive you.”
She sputtered. “How? Why? Look at you!”
Yeah, it's a little surprising from her POV. Of course, she seems like the type that would hold a grudge. Spike doesn't hold grudges, never has...and this makes him different from the girls Alicia hung out with in high school.
“This?” Spike gestured at his already-healing face. “Another Slayer did me worse than this, herself, and I went to her birthday party a week later with no hard feelings. You didn’t beat me up; Cain did. Him, yeah, I’ve got plans for his ugly mug. You? All you did was what you thought you needed to do to protect yourself.”
“If we try it again he’ll kill us both.”
“If he catches us, he will.” He gave her a roguish grin. “Guess we’ll have to be sure not to get caught next time.”
Yup, he's already planning a next time. Of course he is.
“Next time? Spike, no...” She covered her concern over escaping by trying to clean the blood off his eyebrow.
“Oh, bloody hell, Slayer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like spending the rest of my unlife running errands for Cain.” He batted her hands away and sat up, hunting through his duster pockets for his cigarettes. Finding them, he lit one and inhaled deeply, thinking. “Might be better to let them think they’ve knocked us back for a bit, anyway. Keep a low profile for awhile.”
“The semi-finals are in a few days,” she said pensively.
Another reminder that we're time-limited, here.
“Yeah, so?”
“Cain’ll probably want some sort of demonstration from us.”
This sets up a reason for another action scene. Whee.
“Let’s not disappoint him, then.”
***
They drilled hard for the next three days. The afternoon of the semi-finals, Cain called Alicia into his office. “I trust your training with the vampire is going well?” he said.
“Pretty good,” she answered cautiously. “He’s teaching me some stuff I didn’t know before.”
She doesn't want to raise his expectations too much.
He showed his teeth. “I’m sure we have something in the cells that you can show off your newfound skills on. Spike was quite impressive with the Chaos Demon, after all.”
But he wants to see if keeping Spike around is worth it.
She gulped a little. “We’ll be ready.”
“See that you are.”
***
Alicia rolled her oiled shoulders and paced back and forth in nervous anticipation. Spike watched her with quiet amusement, leaning against the wall and smoking. The chanting in the arena grew to a roar as the door opened in front of them. “Slayer! Slayer! Slayer!”
Again, description failed me here. I was picturing her in a sports bra and bicycle shorts, but couldn't think of a way to stick that in there without it being all awkward and stuff. The fact that you can see that her shoulders are oiled tells you that she's not really wearing much. Freedom of movement is at a premium for an inexperienced Slayer, after all.
Spike flicked his cigarette away and gave her a grin. “Ready?”
She took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
They stepped out, and the roar of the crowd intensified as they raised their battleaxes over their heads. Spike didn’t think they could get any louder, but discovered he was wrong when the opposite door opened and a pair of Grox’lar Beasts, each armed with a mace, tromped in. Spike saw her eyes go wide, and he gave her an encouraging nudge. “I’ve got your back, Slayer. You know what to do.”
Yeah, stole the Grox'lar Beasts from Joss. I can't always make up my own, plausibly. And I'm not sure we should be expected to. After all, the bestiary he gave us is pretty cool.
She walked toward their adversaries, Spike a half-step behind. Breaking into a run, she emitted a banshee-like yell and brandished her axe up over her head. They planted their feet and waited, grinning hideously. At the last second, she slid to the side and swung the weapon horizontally, but the Grox’lar blocked the blow with its mace. Without pausing, she delivered a spinning kick to its face, which knocked it back a few feet.
More action here. I always take a long time to write these, because they don't come naturally to me. They usually go through about six or seven rewrites before I'm completely happy with them.
It raised its club and aimed a strike at her head, but Spike had taught her how to dodge those. She ducked and used a leg sweep to knock it off its feet, onto its stomach. Leaping onto its back, she dropped her axe and grabbed its head, preparatory to breaking its neck.
She’d forgotten about the other one. It had smashed Spike back with its mace after he’d cut its arm with his axe. Standing behind Alicia, it raised its weapon over its head and started to bring it down with a blow that would have broken her back had it connected. But Spike charged right back into the fray, and, before the slow-moving Beast even knew he was there, his blade sliced through its neck. Its head hit the ground as Alicia broke its companion’s neck with an audible “snap.”
I liked them killing their adversaries at the same time. Very satisfying.
She stood up, and she and Spike clasped hands and raised them in victory. The approbation of the crowd washed over her in a flood, and she felt fulfilled for the first time in a long time.
Alicia hasn't really accomplished a lot in her life. It makes sense that Slaying makes her feel fulfilled, especially since it's what she was basically born to do.
***
Back in her apartment, she was practically bouncing off the walls. “That was so cool!” she gushed, over and over.
Is it wrong of me that I pictured her doing this, because it's something I would do...and giggled madly while I saw it in my head?
Spike sat on the couch, grimacing a little as his aching ribs reminded him that Grox’lar Beasts might be slow, but they were strong. Time to take her down a peg or two. “Was it, pet?”
“Well, yeah. It was awesome! Did you see that leg sweep?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Did you see the Beast behind you...that I killed before it bashed your head in?”
She frowned a little. “Well...you said you had my back. I trusted you.”
“I won’t always be there to have your back. The Slayer needs to be aware of her surroundings, at all times. You can’t count on other people. Not even me. What if the other one had killed me when he’d hit me with his bloody mace?”
“You’re a vampire,” she said. “You can’t be killed with a blunt instrument...right?”
Yeah, like she was actually thinking about that when she forgot she had two adversaries.
He snorted. “He could have taken my head off with that thing--or at least knocked me out. Then where would you have been?”
She needs to learn that there are other ways to put a vampire out of commission, because doing that and then staking it at your leisure is a far easier way to Slay than trying to dust it in the heat of battle.
She chose that point to change the subject. “What do you mean you won’t always be there? You can’t leave. Cain would kill you.”
“I’ve survived several apocalypses, killed two Slayers, and bested a Hellgod. Do you really think I’m worried about a ponce like Cain?”
Really.
“So...you’re leaving me?”
Yes, Alicia. It's All. About. You.
“Hey, I didn’t say that, exactly. You’re more than welcome to come with me when I go. In fact, I wish you would, pet. There’s no future for you here.”
“There might be. If you would stay.”
*snort* There she goes again. He doesn't want you, little girl.
“No sodding way. I’ve got an unlife, as I’ve said before. And it doesn’t involve staying around here being a lapdog for the likes of Walrus-boy. First opportunity I see, I’m out. Whether you come along or not is strictly up to you. But be watching, because I’m not telling you beforehand again.”
“You don’t trust me,” she pouted.
“Damn straight I don’t. I trust three creatures on this earth. Myself, my Cleric, and my dog. You’re not even close to being on the list, after that last stunt you pulled, Delilah.”
I particularly liked him calling her "Delilah." Goes with the whole Biblical theme we've got going here.
“But...I thought you forgave me.”
Spike lit a cigarette and grinned at her sardonically. “I did. Doesn’t mean all is forgotten, or that I’ll make the same stupid mistake as before. But you keep watching me. You’ll know when I’ve decided to make a break for it.” He blew a stream of smoke in her direction. “And then you can decide if you want to follow me or not.”
***
I didn't have a graceful way to make the week go by, so I just...skipped it. They trained, they talked, blahdy-blah blah blah. Nothing really happened. So, scene break, and now it's Finals Day. Time was that I'd have agonized over skipping a big slab of time like that, but I've learned that if nothing very important happens during that time, there's no sense in boring your readers by telling them so. They're smart enough to figure it out on their own.
The morning of the Finals, Alicia stood over Spike, who was still asleep on her couch. She’d done up her hair and makeup just so. He seemed restless, and she licked her lips nervously as she contemplated him. The Glads would end tonight, and then the Clan War would commence the next night--but not here at the Compound. Cain had said something about some holy ground or other, and the night of the full moon; she hadn’t paid much attention. She might never see Spike again after this weekend, and she wanted...
Lots of information crammed into this paragraph, really. It took me awhile to figure out that having the Clan War the same night as the Glad Finals would kind of screw me up, what with what's coming later. Needed to give Spike some time to recover. Heh. Good thing he has vampire healing...
What did she want? She wasn’t sure anymore. This vampire dredged up all kinds of conflicting emotions in her, some pleasant, some less so. These past two weeks had been a whirlwind, and now that it was crunch time and she was scared, she’d just about decided she wanted him. Badly. Maybe it was because he was the closest thing to human that she had contact with in this place. Maybe it was because he had high expectations for her, something no one else in her life had ever done. And maybe it was because she thought that one or both of them might die, and she didn’t want that to happen without at least trying to reach out somehow.
Oh, hell, she doesn't know what she wants, or why. She's a silly little teenage girl who's been spending night and day with a hawt vampire. And while no one can blame her for being attracted, she's not exactly going about it the right way.
She had an ugly feeling about the Clan War. And she was about to do something stupid. But if she did it quickly she wouldn’t have time to talk herself out of it.
Shoulda stopped at "this is stupid," Alicia.
She leaned down, placing her hands softly on his shoulders, and kissed his lips. Gently at first, then hungrier, more demanding. He started to respond--
Then his startled eyes snapped open, and he sent her flying across the room with a violent, instinctive shove. “Bloody hell, Slayer!” Spike sat up and ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. “What was that all about?”
Reee-jected! I had this scene in mind from the very beginning of the fic. More of my diabolical plot to de-Sue my OFC.
She sulkily picked herself up off the floor, flung herself into the recliner, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I could ask you the same question. Pushing me like that.”
How was he supposed to push you, dear?
“I was dreaming, and not pleasantly. What’s your excuse?” He lit a cigarette and glared at her through the smoke.
This lets us know he's still having those dreams. My (published) Mom pointed out that he smokes a lot in this fic, and wondered if there wasn't something else he could do instead. But, um, not really. And I know intellectually that "smoking isn't cool"...but, dammit, it is when Spike does it. Sue me.
She deflated. “Tonight’s the Finals. And then the War.”
“Yeah, so?” He tilted his head at her, then nodded in comprehension. “Bit unnerved, luv?”
“No!” she flashed at him indignantly. Her eyes slid away. “Okay. Maybe a little. And I just...” She shrugged, embarrassed now.
“Not that I’m not flattered and all, but I told you nothing like that would happen, the day we met. Nothing’s changed.”
A surge of anger coursed through her at his rejection. “Fine. I wasn’t serious anyway. Especially since you’re probably leaving pretty soon. Not much chance for anything long term.”
“Funny, I would’ve thought you were after a quick tumble. Didn’t know the phrase ‘long term’ was in your vocabulary, pet.” He lifted his eyebrow at her caustically.
Ouch...
“You know what? Screw you. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.” Stung more by the truth of his statement than anything else, she leaped to her feet and stalked out the door, slamming it behind her.
Of course she's going to be a spoiled brat about it.
Spike put his face in his hand and shook his head, only now registering that she’d put on makeup and perfume. “That went well,” he muttered to himself.
Another "spontaneous shifting POV," I guess...but the scene is in the room, and she's left it. So, this is like a reaction shot.
***
Pacing up and down Cain’s office, Alicia ranted furiously. “Who the hell does he think he is? I’m the Slayer! I kill his kind for a living! He’s lucky I didn’t stake him right then and there!”
Oh, like you could.
“Yes, well,” Cain soothed, “he is unworthy of you. And you have more pressing matters to attend to anyway.”
She calmed somewhat. “The Clan Wars.”
“We’re emptying the cells tonight as well. Do you wish to fight in the arena as a warm-up, or would you rather conserve your strength for tomorrow?”
I kind of struggled with this question myself, and then decided that, what with what was coming up, I didn't need more action. So, she actually uses some logic, which, now that I think about it, might be OOC.
“I’ll wait. No sense in taking a chance on getting wounded in something that doesn’t matter. You can do whatever you want with Spike, though. I think he might be planning on making a break for it soon.”
Beware the wrath of a spoiled teenage brat scorned, especially if she has power.
Cain smiled at her and reached into his desk drawer. “You’ve done well for us, Slayer,” he said, taking out an apple and tossing it to her. “Your reward will be great.”
She bit into it and munched slowly while he spoke into his intercom.
That's not symbolic at all...
TBC...
Commentary, Chapter Four
Spike awoke the next day, after another bad dream, to a crick in his neck and the smell of breakfast burning. He made his way into the kitchen, where Alicia was swearing at the utensils and making an unholy mess. She had flour in her hair, sugar on her nose, and something unidentifiable stuck to her eyebrow. He appropriated the spatula from her and flipped a pancake over. “Sit down, Lish. Good God. Never yet met a Slayer who could bloody cook.”
That was a fun description to write. Surely I wasn't the only one to notice that in a houseful of women, Andrew was the one doing the cooking in S7 of Buffy?
It didn’t take him long to make something edible and slide it in front of her. He sat down on the opposite side of the breakfast table with a mug of blood and watched her eat. Nice to see a girl with a healthy appetite, he mused. He waited for her to finish before he said anything to her about the previous night--and then he was unsure how to bring it up.
And so was I, so I just dove in. Not one for subtlety, our Spike, in any case.
So, he dove right in. “Thought about our discussion?”
Immediately on the defensive, she snapped, “What else do you think I’ve been thinking about?”
He sighed and fiddled with his mug. “Look, pet, I know I’m the last one to be lecturing you on what being a Slayer is all about--”
“Then stop it! For God’s sake! Don’t you think I know?” She looked down at her empty plate. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Let’s get out. You and me. I’ll take you up to Cleveland, and you can cut your Slayer teeth on the Hellmouth up there. Actually, it’s not much of a Hellmouth, more of a Heckmouth, but still. We can leave tonight. Pop out the bloody window and get away before they even know we’re gone.”
Props to the Hubby for the "Heckmouth." I'm just glad I got the chance to use it sometime.
“You make it sound easy,” she said wistfully. “But I can’t do that. I owe Cain.”
“You don’t owe him a bloody thing. He’s lied to you from the beginning and would just as soon eat you as look at you.” Spike lit a cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke, exasperated. “Your sense of loyalty is admirable, but misplaced. You’ve sold your birthright, luv, and you’re not even getting a bowl of stew out of it.”
Woo! for a reference to the title. And hey...a comment on commentaries here: It's hard to do a commentary when the characters are pretty much saying what I want to say already, yeah? So, bear with me a bit.
“Oh, you’re one to talk about sold birthrights. You’re a vampire. Think betraying your own kind is just fine?” she sniped back.
He laughed at her. “Like it’s any equivalent, luv. I’m working on the side of what’s good and holy now. You, to put it mildly, aren’t.”
As I've said before, I'm pretty much a seat-of-the-pants writer. This conversation, however, was planned from the beginning. His point about her selling her Slayer birthright, and hers about him betraying his own, was a contrast I wanted to make from the very start.
She conceded his point with a twitch of her lips. “You really think we can get out?”
“Don’t see why not. We’ll train today, just like always, then wait for dark, maybe around midnight--and blow this place.”
She frowned, chewing her lip. “All right,” she said slowly. “If you really think it’s possible.” She stood up. “I’ll go get changed.”
She closed the bedroom door behind her. Clattering the dishes while putting them in the dishwasher, he didn’t hear her pick up her phone. “I need to talk to Cain.”
Well, that's not nice...
***
As soon as his feet touched the ground outside Alicia’s bedroom window, the hairs on the back of Spike’s neck warned him that all was not well. He had enough time to see a Louisville Slugger aimed at his head and hear the Slayer scream “Don’t hurt--” before the bat connected and sent him flying several yards. He was unconscious before he hit the dirt with bone-crunching force.
Not sure if this is an example of "spontaneous shifting POV" or not, but I wanted the first part to be Spike's POV, since he's the one being threatened here...and since he's out cold for the rest of it, the POV shifts to Alicia's for the rest of it. Eh, rules were made to be broken...as long as you know what the rules are, anyway.
Alicia rounded on Cain, who had wielded the weapon himself. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him!” she accused.
*snort* Yeah, the promise of a demon? She has a lot to learn.
He gave her a toothy grin. “I lied. Take the vampire to a cell,” he instructed a pair of minions. “You’ve done well, Slayer. Had you actually betrayed us, it would have been the death of both of you. As it is, only your fanged friend will be injured--and perhaps not so badly as all that, when all is said and done. Go back to your quarters. We’ll return him to you when we’re done with him.”
They're keeping a closer eye on her than maybe she realizes. This is his way of letting her know that they would have been caught regardless.
Alicia’s emotions were a mixture of anger, frustration, and remorse as she made her way into her apartment. She had thought she was doing the right thing by informing Cain of the escape attempt, but he’d promised...And now who knew how badly Spike was hurt? The demon boss had said that he’d bring the vampire back when they were done with him, but he’d broken one promise. What difference would it make if he broke another one?
Lesson learned, she told herself grimly. Never trust the word of a demon, ever again.
A tough, but necessary, lesson for our Slayer. After all, Cain didn't say he'd bring Spike back alive, did he?
***
Spike came to gradually, his head aching fiercely. He became aware that he was sitting upright in a ladder-backed chair, his arms twisted painfully behind him and bound to the crosspieces, and his ankles tied to the chair legs.
Mmmm. Bondage!Spike. *brain goes to happy place* Um. *cough* Yeah, this is the part where Cain makes a little wager with Spike. While beating him up. Nothing if not sporting, our head demon.
Cain had been leaning against the wall of the cell, but he pushed himself off and walked over to Spike when he saw him stirring. Baring his teeth in a mirthless leer, he slapped Spike across the face with a massive hand. “I told you she was ours.”
Unintimidated, Spike scowled up at him. “You’ve had her for seven months. I’ve been working with her for, what, four days?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Cain slapped him again, with the other hand. “The amount of time doesn’t matter. This Slayer is defective. She won’t come over to your side, because she has no desire to. In fact...” Cain stopped to think for a moment, then nearly knocked the chair over with the force of the punch he delivered to Spike’s jaw. “The Powers must be getting short on Slayers, if they called this one.”
Spike spat blood, dizzy but still fearless. “I seem to remember another Slayer that everyone had given up on. She even spent time in jail for murder. Then she fought by my side and helped save the world.”
Yay, more continuity. The theme of redemption was played out pretty well through Faith, I thought, and it was nice to be able to bring her up.
Cain scoffed. “Alicia has far too great a sense of self-preservation to throw her life away on such a foolish endeavor. She won’t be leaving with you.” This time the chair fell over backwards, and he knocked Spike unconscious. “Ever.”
***
Alicia leaped to her feet when they hammered on her door. She wrenched it open to find Spike lying senseless on her doorstep and a pair of Odobenus demons walking away down the hall, apparently after dumping him there.
She's a bit anxious. After all, she blames herself for what happened to Spike. Thus the "leaping" and the "wrenching." I likes me my action words, I does.
She breathed a sigh of relief for her Slayer strength as she picked him up and carried him inside, and thanked whatever Powers That Were that Spike hadn’t been returned to her in an ashtray. She noted with sorrow the bruises and blood on his face, and went to get a washcloth so she could bathe his wounds.
Slayer strength is handy sometimes. This isn't the first time I've had a Slayer carry Spike somewhere. Since Buffy could carry a big old pipe thing all by herself, and pick up the Troll Hammer (that Spike could barely lift) with one hand, and run while carrying Dawn, I don't think it's a stretch.
When she came back to the living room, he was stirring on the couch, starting to come around and swearing a little at the pain in his head. “Shh,” she soothed him, while she mopped his split lip. “It’s all right.”
“Bloody hell. You sure about that?”
“Well, you’re not a big pile of dust,” Alicia said through tears, “so I guess you’ll live, anyway.”
Oh, look. She feels bad.
“Here, now, pet.” Spike struggled to sit up, but fell back with a little moan that he tried to hide from her. “What’s with the waterworks?”
“It’s my fault he hurt you. If I hadn’t told...”
“You think they wouldn’t have stopped us anyway? And then it might be me tendin’ you, instead of the other way ‘round. Think I like it better this way. By the by, luv, that pain you’re feelin’? That’s your conscience telling you that you made right bollocks-up of the situation. Thought I’d let you know that, seeing as your conscience hasn’t really had a workout until now.”
As Spike brings the point home.
“Oh, shut up. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And it won’t happen again.”
“Too bloody right it won’t. We’ll pick a much more opportune moment for our next escape attempt. And, for what it’s worth, I forgive you,” he said easily.
I thought that forgiveness was important here. However, note that there are still consequences. He doesn't trust her anymore. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting, necessarily.
Alicia rocked back on her heels. “You what?”
“I forgive you.”
She sputtered. “How? Why? Look at you!”
Yeah, it's a little surprising from her POV. Of course, she seems like the type that would hold a grudge. Spike doesn't hold grudges, never has...and this makes him different from the girls Alicia hung out with in high school.
“This?” Spike gestured at his already-healing face. “Another Slayer did me worse than this, herself, and I went to her birthday party a week later with no hard feelings. You didn’t beat me up; Cain did. Him, yeah, I’ve got plans for his ugly mug. You? All you did was what you thought you needed to do to protect yourself.”
“If we try it again he’ll kill us both.”
“If he catches us, he will.” He gave her a roguish grin. “Guess we’ll have to be sure not to get caught next time.”
Yup, he's already planning a next time. Of course he is.
“Next time? Spike, no...” She covered her concern over escaping by trying to clean the blood off his eyebrow.
“Oh, bloody hell, Slayer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like spending the rest of my unlife running errands for Cain.” He batted her hands away and sat up, hunting through his duster pockets for his cigarettes. Finding them, he lit one and inhaled deeply, thinking. “Might be better to let them think they’ve knocked us back for a bit, anyway. Keep a low profile for awhile.”
“The semi-finals are in a few days,” she said pensively.
Another reminder that we're time-limited, here.
“Yeah, so?”
“Cain’ll probably want some sort of demonstration from us.”
This sets up a reason for another action scene. Whee.
“Let’s not disappoint him, then.”
***
They drilled hard for the next three days. The afternoon of the semi-finals, Cain called Alicia into his office. “I trust your training with the vampire is going well?” he said.
“Pretty good,” she answered cautiously. “He’s teaching me some stuff I didn’t know before.”
She doesn't want to raise his expectations too much.
He showed his teeth. “I’m sure we have something in the cells that you can show off your newfound skills on. Spike was quite impressive with the Chaos Demon, after all.”
But he wants to see if keeping Spike around is worth it.
She gulped a little. “We’ll be ready.”
“See that you are.”
***
Alicia rolled her oiled shoulders and paced back and forth in nervous anticipation. Spike watched her with quiet amusement, leaning against the wall and smoking. The chanting in the arena grew to a roar as the door opened in front of them. “Slayer! Slayer! Slayer!”
Again, description failed me here. I was picturing her in a sports bra and bicycle shorts, but couldn't think of a way to stick that in there without it being all awkward and stuff. The fact that you can see that her shoulders are oiled tells you that she's not really wearing much. Freedom of movement is at a premium for an inexperienced Slayer, after all.
Spike flicked his cigarette away and gave her a grin. “Ready?”
She took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
They stepped out, and the roar of the crowd intensified as they raised their battleaxes over their heads. Spike didn’t think they could get any louder, but discovered he was wrong when the opposite door opened and a pair of Grox’lar Beasts, each armed with a mace, tromped in. Spike saw her eyes go wide, and he gave her an encouraging nudge. “I’ve got your back, Slayer. You know what to do.”
Yeah, stole the Grox'lar Beasts from Joss. I can't always make up my own, plausibly. And I'm not sure we should be expected to. After all, the bestiary he gave us is pretty cool.
She walked toward their adversaries, Spike a half-step behind. Breaking into a run, she emitted a banshee-like yell and brandished her axe up over her head. They planted their feet and waited, grinning hideously. At the last second, she slid to the side and swung the weapon horizontally, but the Grox’lar blocked the blow with its mace. Without pausing, she delivered a spinning kick to its face, which knocked it back a few feet.
More action here. I always take a long time to write these, because they don't come naturally to me. They usually go through about six or seven rewrites before I'm completely happy with them.
It raised its club and aimed a strike at her head, but Spike had taught her how to dodge those. She ducked and used a leg sweep to knock it off its feet, onto its stomach. Leaping onto its back, she dropped her axe and grabbed its head, preparatory to breaking its neck.
She’d forgotten about the other one. It had smashed Spike back with its mace after he’d cut its arm with his axe. Standing behind Alicia, it raised its weapon over its head and started to bring it down with a blow that would have broken her back had it connected. But Spike charged right back into the fray, and, before the slow-moving Beast even knew he was there, his blade sliced through its neck. Its head hit the ground as Alicia broke its companion’s neck with an audible “snap.”
I liked them killing their adversaries at the same time. Very satisfying.
She stood up, and she and Spike clasped hands and raised them in victory. The approbation of the crowd washed over her in a flood, and she felt fulfilled for the first time in a long time.
Alicia hasn't really accomplished a lot in her life. It makes sense that Slaying makes her feel fulfilled, especially since it's what she was basically born to do.
***
Back in her apartment, she was practically bouncing off the walls. “That was so cool!” she gushed, over and over.
Is it wrong of me that I pictured her doing this, because it's something I would do...and giggled madly while I saw it in my head?
Spike sat on the couch, grimacing a little as his aching ribs reminded him that Grox’lar Beasts might be slow, but they were strong. Time to take her down a peg or two. “Was it, pet?”
“Well, yeah. It was awesome! Did you see that leg sweep?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Did you see the Beast behind you...that I killed before it bashed your head in?”
She frowned a little. “Well...you said you had my back. I trusted you.”
“I won’t always be there to have your back. The Slayer needs to be aware of her surroundings, at all times. You can’t count on other people. Not even me. What if the other one had killed me when he’d hit me with his bloody mace?”
“You’re a vampire,” she said. “You can’t be killed with a blunt instrument...right?”
Yeah, like she was actually thinking about that when she forgot she had two adversaries.
He snorted. “He could have taken my head off with that thing--or at least knocked me out. Then where would you have been?”
She needs to learn that there are other ways to put a vampire out of commission, because doing that and then staking it at your leisure is a far easier way to Slay than trying to dust it in the heat of battle.
She chose that point to change the subject. “What do you mean you won’t always be there? You can’t leave. Cain would kill you.”
“I’ve survived several apocalypses, killed two Slayers, and bested a Hellgod. Do you really think I’m worried about a ponce like Cain?”
Really.
“So...you’re leaving me?”
Yes, Alicia. It's All. About. You.
“Hey, I didn’t say that, exactly. You’re more than welcome to come with me when I go. In fact, I wish you would, pet. There’s no future for you here.”
“There might be. If you would stay.”
*snort* There she goes again. He doesn't want you, little girl.
“No sodding way. I’ve got an unlife, as I’ve said before. And it doesn’t involve staying around here being a lapdog for the likes of Walrus-boy. First opportunity I see, I’m out. Whether you come along or not is strictly up to you. But be watching, because I’m not telling you beforehand again.”
“You don’t trust me,” she pouted.
“Damn straight I don’t. I trust three creatures on this earth. Myself, my Cleric, and my dog. You’re not even close to being on the list, after that last stunt you pulled, Delilah.”
I particularly liked him calling her "Delilah." Goes with the whole Biblical theme we've got going here.
“But...I thought you forgave me.”
Spike lit a cigarette and grinned at her sardonically. “I did. Doesn’t mean all is forgotten, or that I’ll make the same stupid mistake as before. But you keep watching me. You’ll know when I’ve decided to make a break for it.” He blew a stream of smoke in her direction. “And then you can decide if you want to follow me or not.”
***
I didn't have a graceful way to make the week go by, so I just...skipped it. They trained, they talked, blahdy-blah blah blah. Nothing really happened. So, scene break, and now it's Finals Day. Time was that I'd have agonized over skipping a big slab of time like that, but I've learned that if nothing very important happens during that time, there's no sense in boring your readers by telling them so. They're smart enough to figure it out on their own.
The morning of the Finals, Alicia stood over Spike, who was still asleep on her couch. She’d done up her hair and makeup just so. He seemed restless, and she licked her lips nervously as she contemplated him. The Glads would end tonight, and then the Clan War would commence the next night--but not here at the Compound. Cain had said something about some holy ground or other, and the night of the full moon; she hadn’t paid much attention. She might never see Spike again after this weekend, and she wanted...
Lots of information crammed into this paragraph, really. It took me awhile to figure out that having the Clan War the same night as the Glad Finals would kind of screw me up, what with what's coming later. Needed to give Spike some time to recover. Heh. Good thing he has vampire healing...
What did she want? She wasn’t sure anymore. This vampire dredged up all kinds of conflicting emotions in her, some pleasant, some less so. These past two weeks had been a whirlwind, and now that it was crunch time and she was scared, she’d just about decided she wanted him. Badly. Maybe it was because he was the closest thing to human that she had contact with in this place. Maybe it was because he had high expectations for her, something no one else in her life had ever done. And maybe it was because she thought that one or both of them might die, and she didn’t want that to happen without at least trying to reach out somehow.
Oh, hell, she doesn't know what she wants, or why. She's a silly little teenage girl who's been spending night and day with a hawt vampire. And while no one can blame her for being attracted, she's not exactly going about it the right way.
She had an ugly feeling about the Clan War. And she was about to do something stupid. But if she did it quickly she wouldn’t have time to talk herself out of it.
Shoulda stopped at "this is stupid," Alicia.
She leaned down, placing her hands softly on his shoulders, and kissed his lips. Gently at first, then hungrier, more demanding. He started to respond--
Then his startled eyes snapped open, and he sent her flying across the room with a violent, instinctive shove. “Bloody hell, Slayer!” Spike sat up and ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. “What was that all about?”
Reee-jected! I had this scene in mind from the very beginning of the fic. More of my diabolical plot to de-Sue my OFC.
She sulkily picked herself up off the floor, flung herself into the recliner, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I could ask you the same question. Pushing me like that.”
How was he supposed to push you, dear?
“I was dreaming, and not pleasantly. What’s your excuse?” He lit a cigarette and glared at her through the smoke.
This lets us know he's still having those dreams. My (published) Mom pointed out that he smokes a lot in this fic, and wondered if there wasn't something else he could do instead. But, um, not really. And I know intellectually that "smoking isn't cool"...but, dammit, it is when Spike does it. Sue me.
She deflated. “Tonight’s the Finals. And then the War.”
“Yeah, so?” He tilted his head at her, then nodded in comprehension. “Bit unnerved, luv?”
“No!” she flashed at him indignantly. Her eyes slid away. “Okay. Maybe a little. And I just...” She shrugged, embarrassed now.
“Not that I’m not flattered and all, but I told you nothing like that would happen, the day we met. Nothing’s changed.”
A surge of anger coursed through her at his rejection. “Fine. I wasn’t serious anyway. Especially since you’re probably leaving pretty soon. Not much chance for anything long term.”
“Funny, I would’ve thought you were after a quick tumble. Didn’t know the phrase ‘long term’ was in your vocabulary, pet.” He lifted his eyebrow at her caustically.
Ouch...
“You know what? Screw you. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.” Stung more by the truth of his statement than anything else, she leaped to her feet and stalked out the door, slamming it behind her.
Of course she's going to be a spoiled brat about it.
Spike put his face in his hand and shook his head, only now registering that she’d put on makeup and perfume. “That went well,” he muttered to himself.
Another "spontaneous shifting POV," I guess...but the scene is in the room, and she's left it. So, this is like a reaction shot.
***
Pacing up and down Cain’s office, Alicia ranted furiously. “Who the hell does he think he is? I’m the Slayer! I kill his kind for a living! He’s lucky I didn’t stake him right then and there!”
Oh, like you could.
“Yes, well,” Cain soothed, “he is unworthy of you. And you have more pressing matters to attend to anyway.”
She calmed somewhat. “The Clan Wars.”
“We’re emptying the cells tonight as well. Do you wish to fight in the arena as a warm-up, or would you rather conserve your strength for tomorrow?”
I kind of struggled with this question myself, and then decided that, what with what was coming up, I didn't need more action. So, she actually uses some logic, which, now that I think about it, might be OOC.
“I’ll wait. No sense in taking a chance on getting wounded in something that doesn’t matter. You can do whatever you want with Spike, though. I think he might be planning on making a break for it soon.”
Beware the wrath of a spoiled teenage brat scorned, especially if she has power.
Cain smiled at her and reached into his desk drawer. “You’ve done well for us, Slayer,” he said, taking out an apple and tossing it to her. “Your reward will be great.”
She bit into it and munched slowly while he spoke into his intercom.
That's not symbolic at all...
TBC...
Commentary, Chapter Four