Title: Winterlude
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Winterlude" on the subject line.)
Subject: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Category: An, UST
Rating: G
Summary: Slightly revised version of the porch scene from the end of the Buffy episode which was
part of the third Buffy/Angel crossover.
Spoilers: The Buffy episode from the third Buffy/Angel crossover
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, sure I own 'em. In my dreams. Buffy, Dawn, Spike, Joyce Summers, and
other characters mentioned are the property of Joss Whedon, WGN, and Mutant Enemy Inc. No
copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Though most of the episode was pretty much a big cop-out (come on - it was all
flashbacks. How boring is that?!), I liked the idea of a pretty much all Buffy/Spike episode -
especially after The Dream. Anyway, I thought the end could have been done better, and, as my
friend Nikki likes to say, I am very opinionated - therefore, I just redid it myself, and here
it is. Enjoy!
Dedication: To Nikki. Without you, I never would've survived Trinity. Thanx 4 everything.
******************************************************************************
"But he did the Snoopy dance!" -Willow
******************************************************************************
Buffy smiled tightly at her mother, then spun on her heel and fled from the room.
Grabbing her puffy, insulated jacket from the floor, she slipped it on and dashed outside into
the freezing cold weather, ignoring Dawn's demands to know where she was going.
Once outside, Buffy watched the softly falling snow, remembering last year, when she had
taken a walk through the snow with Angel. Everything was so simple back then; kill vampires,
snuggle with Angel. When had things gotten so complicated?
Now, she had to deal with advanced Slayer training, Dawn, Giles' magic shop, Willow and
Tara, Riley, Spike and Harmony, and the whole college scene. And to top it all off, her mom might
be dying.
Why me? Buffy thought. Isn't being The Chosen One enough? Putting her head in her hands,
the Slayer began to cry.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but by the time her tears had dried, the sun
was no longer visible below the horizon. The crescent moon lit the sky, casting bluish light that
reflected off of the still falling snow. A light blanket of it already coated the ground in
front of her.
As Buffy absently brushed snowflakes off her knee, she heard footsteps crunching across
the snow-covered grass of her yard.
"Not now," she muttered. "If there's ever a time to skip patrol, it's tonight." Lifting
her head, Buffy saw Spike striding toward her, his face contorted with rage. A shotgun dangled from his left hand. "Oh, just what I need," she said in a bored tone. "Give it up, Spike - you know you can't hurt me."
Regardless, Spike began to lift the gun. He stopped when he saw the mascara streaked
across Buffy's cheeks. Lowering the gun, he stared at her for a few seconds, remembrance of his
dream haunting him as it had been for quite some time now.
"You're crying," he observed quietly. Fresh tears coursed down from Buffy's eyes down
her face.
"So what if I am?" she shouted, embarrassed that Spike, of all people, was seeing her
like this. "Get the hell away from me!"
Ignoring her as usual, Spike set the gun on the ground and sat on the porch beside her.
Once there, he was unsure of what to do. After a few minutes of silence, he tentatively reached
out to touch her shoulder. Instinctively, she flinched. Spike did not remove his hand.
"What happened?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do?"
Buffy was too tired to fight with him. "My mom's sick," she whispered, almost afraid to
say it.
"I'm sorry," Spike replied. It had been so long since he had said those words, they felt
foreign and cumbersome on his tongue. Moving his arm to her shoulder, he pulled her to him.
Buffy buried her face in his chest as he wrapped both arms around her. Finally, she gave in to
the urge to cry. Sobs wracked her body, which felt strangely comforted in Spike's unnaturally
cold embrace.
"Shh..." Spike murmured. "It's OK." In this awkward situation, he had unknowingly let
his guard down, and the feelings that he had for Buffy - those that he had been trying to hide
for the past week - crept up on him: lust, caring, even love.
He knew he could never tell her. But for now, he was content just to hold her as the
snow continued to fall...
******************************************************************************
End.
******************************************************************************
So, whaddaya think? angelus1317@hotmail.com
Author: Angelus
E-mail: angelus1317@hotmail.com (Please put "Winterlude" on the subject line.)
Subject: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Category: An, UST
Rating: G
Summary: Slightly revised version of the porch scene from the end of the Buffy episode which was
part of the third Buffy/Angel crossover.
Spoilers: The Buffy episode from the third Buffy/Angel crossover
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, sure I own 'em. In my dreams. Buffy, Dawn, Spike, Joyce Summers, and
other characters mentioned are the property of Joss Whedon, WGN, and Mutant Enemy Inc. No
copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Though most of the episode was pretty much a big cop-out (come on - it was all
flashbacks. How boring is that?!), I liked the idea of a pretty much all Buffy/Spike episode -
especially after The Dream. Anyway, I thought the end could have been done better, and, as my
friend Nikki likes to say, I am very opinionated - therefore, I just redid it myself, and here
it is. Enjoy!
Dedication: To Nikki. Without you, I never would've survived Trinity. Thanx 4 everything.
******************************************************************************
"But he did the Snoopy dance!" -Willow
******************************************************************************
Buffy smiled tightly at her mother, then spun on her heel and fled from the room.
Grabbing her puffy, insulated jacket from the floor, she slipped it on and dashed outside into
the freezing cold weather, ignoring Dawn's demands to know where she was going.
Once outside, Buffy watched the softly falling snow, remembering last year, when she had
taken a walk through the snow with Angel. Everything was so simple back then; kill vampires,
snuggle with Angel. When had things gotten so complicated?
Now, she had to deal with advanced Slayer training, Dawn, Giles' magic shop, Willow and
Tara, Riley, Spike and Harmony, and the whole college scene. And to top it all off, her mom might
be dying.
Why me? Buffy thought. Isn't being The Chosen One enough? Putting her head in her hands,
the Slayer began to cry.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but by the time her tears had dried, the sun
was no longer visible below the horizon. The crescent moon lit the sky, casting bluish light that
reflected off of the still falling snow. A light blanket of it already coated the ground in
front of her.
As Buffy absently brushed snowflakes off her knee, she heard footsteps crunching across
the snow-covered grass of her yard.
"Not now," she muttered. "If there's ever a time to skip patrol, it's tonight." Lifting
her head, Buffy saw Spike striding toward her, his face contorted with rage. A shotgun dangled from his left hand. "Oh, just what I need," she said in a bored tone. "Give it up, Spike - you know you can't hurt me."
Regardless, Spike began to lift the gun. He stopped when he saw the mascara streaked
across Buffy's cheeks. Lowering the gun, he stared at her for a few seconds, remembrance of his
dream haunting him as it had been for quite some time now.
"You're crying," he observed quietly. Fresh tears coursed down from Buffy's eyes down
her face.
"So what if I am?" she shouted, embarrassed that Spike, of all people, was seeing her
like this. "Get the hell away from me!"
Ignoring her as usual, Spike set the gun on the ground and sat on the porch beside her.
Once there, he was unsure of what to do. After a few minutes of silence, he tentatively reached
out to touch her shoulder. Instinctively, she flinched. Spike did not remove his hand.
"What happened?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do?"
Buffy was too tired to fight with him. "My mom's sick," she whispered, almost afraid to
say it.
"I'm sorry," Spike replied. It had been so long since he had said those words, they felt
foreign and cumbersome on his tongue. Moving his arm to her shoulder, he pulled her to him.
Buffy buried her face in his chest as he wrapped both arms around her. Finally, she gave in to
the urge to cry. Sobs wracked her body, which felt strangely comforted in Spike's unnaturally
cold embrace.
"Shh..." Spike murmured. "It's OK." In this awkward situation, he had unknowingly let
his guard down, and the feelings that he had for Buffy - those that he had been trying to hide
for the past week - crept up on him: lust, caring, even love.
He knew he could never tell her. But for now, he was content just to hold her as the
snow continued to fall...
******************************************************************************
End.
******************************************************************************
So, whaddaya think? angelus1317@hotmail.com