This is my first BtVS fic so it would really mean a lot to me if you would
review. This is only the INTRODUCTION don't worry, the actual Plot is
coming really soon, and it's really good. Well, I think so anyway. Btw,
this is a Post-Showtime fic.
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Since about half way home, Buffy had been carrying most of Spike's weight since he was so weak, barely even conscious. She still had the knife in her hand in case the First didn't like its hostage being rescued and sent some Bringers or other rat-ass ugly creatures like the Turok-han. She wished she could just pitch it somewhere though, she had a feeling it didn't make Spike entirely comfortable.
The whole journey had been spent with no one else in sight and when footsteps were heard, Buffy was glad she had kept the damn thing after all. She gripped the dagger tighter with her right hand while securing her left arm around Spike's waist and shaking him a little to make him more alert. They were only about a block from home. She could run, Spike could, well, not. Maybe it was just a passerby. Maybe mallard ducks could river-dance and speak fluent German. You just never know.
The person was coming from across the street and right at them. Buffy's best bet was to just keep moving, her house would be in sight in a few minutes. Finally, when the footsteps got close enough and she could make out a person, she held up the dagger, her hand poised to throw it for a single deadly blow, if necessary and tried to shrink into the shadows as much as possible.
Apparently, they weren't hidden as well as she'd hoped because as soon as the person was in visual range, *she* stopped, and stared.
"Oh, hey . . . wow." she stuttered before coming to her senses. "Hey, um, do you need help there? I mean, cuz you look all crouchy and your buddy here looks like he's in a bit of pain. A bit a lot of pain."
Buffy thought about it for a split second - her fatigue and aching muscles getting to her - before deciding how bad of a decision it would be. Not that she was feeling possessive or anything.
"No, no, that's fine, but thanks anyway." Buffy said, lowering the knife, hoping the girl hadn't seen it before resuming the trudge home with her patient. Not 3 steps into the walk, Spike missed his footing and almost went crashing to the ground but Buffy pulled him back up.
"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" the young girl said, making her way quickly to them and placing her right arm under Spike's left, supporting some of his weight. "Don't be stubborn, this guy needs help! And stop trying to hide that pretty little half-sword thing, you're just gonna end up cutting yourself."
Buffy just stood there shocked by the brashness this young stranger was displaying. She didn't seem to notice. Instead, she just took a good look at Spike and her frowning her eyebrows in confusion.
"Hun. Is it loss of blood or are you a vampire?" she asked with innocent curiosity.
Buffy was at a complete loss for words but she knew this couldn't end well.
"Okay, thanks anyway but really, we don't have far to go. So, thanks, but . . . bye."
"Oh don't be crazy. This guy needs help. Dead or not, he's hurt." she stopped to hold Buffy's wrist before continuing. "And since you aren't a vampire, but you're still helping him, he must be at least semi- trustworthy. Or at the very least, yet very probably, not in any condition to fight back so. . . where to Chief?"
Buffy still wasn't sure.
"Look, you wanna check me for a stake or some bottle-bible water? Cuz feel free to, however, I think your boy here is gonna pass out, so you might wanna make it quick."
Buffy whipped her head to look at Spike. He really did look like he was hanging onto his last thread.
"Okay, fine. Um, it's this way."
"Great."
While they were walking, Buffy decided to keep an eye on their new friend in case she decided to pull anything. She was young, around 15 she guessed. She had dirty blond hair, three very obvious layers, each about 3 - 4 inches long. Each layer's first locks and rim were a different colour. The first was red, the next, light blue, and the last was fluorescent green. Kind of wacky. She was about Buffy's height, not very fit. At all. In the least. She was wearing dark green army pants - the kind that turns into shorts - , a really baggy white shirt and an Adidas spring jacket. She had earphones around her neck, the cord leading into her pocket, and a huge backpack that looked like it was going to snap at the seams because of over-packing. Her sudden chuckle brought Buffy crashing back to reality.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Hehe, nothing. It's just that -" the girl stopped as did Buffy and without a choice in the matter, Spike did too.
"Okay. Hi, I'm Cassandra."
Only then did Buffy realize that she hadn't even thought to ask. "Oh, right, hi, I'm Buffy. And, uh, this is Spike."
Cassandra smiled and chuckled again. "Hi." She then leaned closer to Spike and whispered so she wouldn't disturb his semi-conscious haze. "And hi to you."
And they resumed their journey. Cassandra took this time to peer over at the vampire she was helping. 'Weird, yet, not so much. Not anymore anyway.' She could tell that he was really handsome. Under the bruises and the swelling of course. High cheekbones, nice. She grinned. Nice hair too, she'd been planning on dying hers a few shades 'bleacher' than that, just to give the snow a run for its money. He was very built, kind of obvious when she was holding onto him and of course the fact that he was shirtless. Nice abs, very very nice abs, built biceps. She followed the arm draped over her shoulders and admired his hands, almost delicate although she doubted this guy could ever break. Look what he's been through. She winced when she saw the burn marks from the leather handcuffs that were peeking out from under the brown straps.
Cassandra could also tell that his saviour, for lack of a better assumption, was very strong. She was also beat up, less, but still beat up. Her face was stone but Cassandra was very gifted at reading people. She could see the worry, the apprehension, the suspicion, the sympathy and lastly and foremost, the caring, obviously for the battered man . . . vampire. Also, the fact that the thumb attached to the arm holding him up was moving back and forth, caressing his side in a soothing manner. 'I don't think she even notices.' Cassandra thought.
In no time, they were climbing the front steps.
"Hey, before I leave and everything, um, could you tell where I could find 1630 Revello Drive?" Cassandra asked, an anticipatory cringe on her face at the prospect of being lost again.
Buffy just stared at her. "You're on its porch." she replied.
Cassandra's face was blank in puzzlement. She blinked once, turned her head to the door to see the numbers 1630 on it before facing Buffy again.
"Woah, okay, that was dumb. Sorry, I'm kind of . . . clueless sometimes." she apologized, mentally berating her idiocy. "Urgh, and of course, you're Buffy . . . Summers. Duh, cuz how many Buffy's can there be? Well, I guess it's a good thing I ran in to you, eh? I was sent to you." she finished ranting with a smile
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Please review! ^_^ thx! ^_~
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Since about half way home, Buffy had been carrying most of Spike's weight since he was so weak, barely even conscious. She still had the knife in her hand in case the First didn't like its hostage being rescued and sent some Bringers or other rat-ass ugly creatures like the Turok-han. She wished she could just pitch it somewhere though, she had a feeling it didn't make Spike entirely comfortable.
The whole journey had been spent with no one else in sight and when footsteps were heard, Buffy was glad she had kept the damn thing after all. She gripped the dagger tighter with her right hand while securing her left arm around Spike's waist and shaking him a little to make him more alert. They were only about a block from home. She could run, Spike could, well, not. Maybe it was just a passerby. Maybe mallard ducks could river-dance and speak fluent German. You just never know.
The person was coming from across the street and right at them. Buffy's best bet was to just keep moving, her house would be in sight in a few minutes. Finally, when the footsteps got close enough and she could make out a person, she held up the dagger, her hand poised to throw it for a single deadly blow, if necessary and tried to shrink into the shadows as much as possible.
Apparently, they weren't hidden as well as she'd hoped because as soon as the person was in visual range, *she* stopped, and stared.
"Oh, hey . . . wow." she stuttered before coming to her senses. "Hey, um, do you need help there? I mean, cuz you look all crouchy and your buddy here looks like he's in a bit of pain. A bit a lot of pain."
Buffy thought about it for a split second - her fatigue and aching muscles getting to her - before deciding how bad of a decision it would be. Not that she was feeling possessive or anything.
"No, no, that's fine, but thanks anyway." Buffy said, lowering the knife, hoping the girl hadn't seen it before resuming the trudge home with her patient. Not 3 steps into the walk, Spike missed his footing and almost went crashing to the ground but Buffy pulled him back up.
"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" the young girl said, making her way quickly to them and placing her right arm under Spike's left, supporting some of his weight. "Don't be stubborn, this guy needs help! And stop trying to hide that pretty little half-sword thing, you're just gonna end up cutting yourself."
Buffy just stood there shocked by the brashness this young stranger was displaying. She didn't seem to notice. Instead, she just took a good look at Spike and her frowning her eyebrows in confusion.
"Hun. Is it loss of blood or are you a vampire?" she asked with innocent curiosity.
Buffy was at a complete loss for words but she knew this couldn't end well.
"Okay, thanks anyway but really, we don't have far to go. So, thanks, but . . . bye."
"Oh don't be crazy. This guy needs help. Dead or not, he's hurt." she stopped to hold Buffy's wrist before continuing. "And since you aren't a vampire, but you're still helping him, he must be at least semi- trustworthy. Or at the very least, yet very probably, not in any condition to fight back so. . . where to Chief?"
Buffy still wasn't sure.
"Look, you wanna check me for a stake or some bottle-bible water? Cuz feel free to, however, I think your boy here is gonna pass out, so you might wanna make it quick."
Buffy whipped her head to look at Spike. He really did look like he was hanging onto his last thread.
"Okay, fine. Um, it's this way."
"Great."
While they were walking, Buffy decided to keep an eye on their new friend in case she decided to pull anything. She was young, around 15 she guessed. She had dirty blond hair, three very obvious layers, each about 3 - 4 inches long. Each layer's first locks and rim were a different colour. The first was red, the next, light blue, and the last was fluorescent green. Kind of wacky. She was about Buffy's height, not very fit. At all. In the least. She was wearing dark green army pants - the kind that turns into shorts - , a really baggy white shirt and an Adidas spring jacket. She had earphones around her neck, the cord leading into her pocket, and a huge backpack that looked like it was going to snap at the seams because of over-packing. Her sudden chuckle brought Buffy crashing back to reality.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Hehe, nothing. It's just that -" the girl stopped as did Buffy and without a choice in the matter, Spike did too.
"Okay. Hi, I'm Cassandra."
Only then did Buffy realize that she hadn't even thought to ask. "Oh, right, hi, I'm Buffy. And, uh, this is Spike."
Cassandra smiled and chuckled again. "Hi." She then leaned closer to Spike and whispered so she wouldn't disturb his semi-conscious haze. "And hi to you."
And they resumed their journey. Cassandra took this time to peer over at the vampire she was helping. 'Weird, yet, not so much. Not anymore anyway.' She could tell that he was really handsome. Under the bruises and the swelling of course. High cheekbones, nice. She grinned. Nice hair too, she'd been planning on dying hers a few shades 'bleacher' than that, just to give the snow a run for its money. He was very built, kind of obvious when she was holding onto him and of course the fact that he was shirtless. Nice abs, very very nice abs, built biceps. She followed the arm draped over her shoulders and admired his hands, almost delicate although she doubted this guy could ever break. Look what he's been through. She winced when she saw the burn marks from the leather handcuffs that were peeking out from under the brown straps.
Cassandra could also tell that his saviour, for lack of a better assumption, was very strong. She was also beat up, less, but still beat up. Her face was stone but Cassandra was very gifted at reading people. She could see the worry, the apprehension, the suspicion, the sympathy and lastly and foremost, the caring, obviously for the battered man . . . vampire. Also, the fact that the thumb attached to the arm holding him up was moving back and forth, caressing his side in a soothing manner. 'I don't think she even notices.' Cassandra thought.
In no time, they were climbing the front steps.
"Hey, before I leave and everything, um, could you tell where I could find 1630 Revello Drive?" Cassandra asked, an anticipatory cringe on her face at the prospect of being lost again.
Buffy just stared at her. "You're on its porch." she replied.
Cassandra's face was blank in puzzlement. She blinked once, turned her head to the door to see the numbers 1630 on it before facing Buffy again.
"Woah, okay, that was dumb. Sorry, I'm kind of . . . clueless sometimes." she apologized, mentally berating her idiocy. "Urgh, and of course, you're Buffy . . . Summers. Duh, cuz how many Buffy's can there be? Well, I guess it's a good thing I ran in to you, eh? I was sent to you." she finished ranting with a smile
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Please review! ^_^ thx! ^_~