Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, I only love them with a
fiery passion and longing that would probably kill me if it existed within
this reality... anyway, as you can probably tell, I make no money from this,
in fact my only gain is the slim hope of sanity that putting this story on
hard drive allows me to cling to. Enjoy
Authors Note: This story takes place in Season 4, right after Something Blue, Hush, Doomed (same night as Doomed end... basically he rants, they leave).
Second Chance
It had been the only way to shut him up; bitching and nagging non-stop until they finally consented, he not even wanting to wait long enough for Buffy to join them, the three humans headed out with the bleached blond vampire into the night, all with better things to do but knowing that nothing was about to happen until they were able to keep Spike quiet.
Xander, wishing that looks really did kill and that Spike's head would slowly blow up, finding a minuet solace in that secretly the chip in the Vamp's head might be doing it for him, fell into step with Willow. "Remember our deal Wills, we go out with Mr. No-Longer-Bitey and you take him off my hands for a while," he lowered his voice slightly, "Anya's getting a little upset."
Anya rolled her eyes. "I need my orgasms Xander," the ex-demon said harshly from behind the life-long friends, not wanting to be out there more than anyone else, "If Willow was getting orgasms she wouldn't want to be here either."
Willow sighed. The count was now 28. That was how many times she had said the word orgasm in the last two hours. They had only come upon two creatures of the night in that time and neither of them were any real threat; both were too scared of Spike to even hit back. She stopped, facing the couple with a soft smile. "Why don't you two just head home? I'll stay here with Bitey." She finished with a nod towards where Spike was standing, not far off, impatiently tapping his feet.
Xander's face lit up. "Really?" His expression grew serious again as he considered the situation. "Are you sure?" His gaze filtered between Anya, as anxious for her orgasms as he was, and Spike, both of his heads at war with each other.
She nodded, resolve face firmly in place. "Go ahead, it's not like he can hurt me anyways."
"Hey!!" Spike spat out, pausing in lighting his cigarette. "Play nice." He pointed at her, unlit cigarette between his fingers. "Or I might just start singing." He winked with a smile.
She spared him only a glance as she again focused on her best friend. She knew that his relationship with Anya had been strained as of late, since Spike came to live in the stank filled basement not even fit for one. And Xander deserved happiness with someone, even if she could not find happiness for herself. Pain leapt in her chest at the memory of what she lost; she swallowed, looking away, knowing that they didn't want to know of her pain. "We'll do a final sweep of the cemetery then head in. I'll bring him back before sunrise."
Anya engulfed Willow in a hug before joining Xander in running away. Willow sighed again, sadness etched in the every contour of her lonely face, as she watched them leave; jumping slightly when she turned around, almost running face first into Spike. He looked down at her as though she were five and had chocolate over her face, one eyebrow cocked, reminding her of the way he looked at her that night in her dorm, when she told him that she wasn't pretty enough to bite.
She looked down to his hands, to the cigarette that was shifting idly between his fingers, black nail polish chipped, and she tried to steady her mind by wondering why he painted them and where he got the polish. It didn't work and her words came out unsteady and nervous. "What?"
He hid a laugh as he inhaled, nodding in the direction of the retreating couple. "Them." He said simply drawing her eyes back to his face. "Doesn't it make you want to kill them? Being all lovey-dovey?"
She couldn't help but smile. "Lovey-dovey?" It sounded strange coming from a man who considered himself the biggest bad around.
He ignored her comment as he slowly started walking again, grateful for a moment's silence, an instant away from the mortal youth who pissed him off to the point that he was willing to stake himself. Pissing them off in turn hadn't been enough to satisfy him, to keep him sane. If it hadn't been for Willow, he would be a pile of dust in a vacuum right now, a memory of a nightmare long ago outgrown, like a bad television show long since cancelled. In the depths of himself he was grateful, but right then, it was more important to him to play. "Miss the sex though."
Her eyes shot to him. He had been silent for almost a minute, his face expressionless and almost innocent and she had thought that he had settled for quiet reflection. "What?"
"Relationships, I miss the sex," he answered with no hint of hesitation or shyness. She shook her head meekly; amazed that someone could be so sure of themselves. She could never be like that, Oz tried to pretend he was, but she had known that he was even more scared than she was. She swallowed hard, mentally scolding herself for mentioning Oz, feelings wanting to be remembered, needs longing to be fulfilled willing themselves to the forefront of her mind, causing her to stare even more at Spike, understanding his words more than anyone else could ever know.
He continued on, only faintly aware of the change in Willow's heartbeat and breath. "Dru was wild, always different. Harm," his forehead scrunched in disgust as he threw his cigarette away, "well, lets not think about Harmony. But, she did in a pinch. Sometimes that's all you need, you know?"
She nodded. "Yeah," she smiled again, sadness coming off of her in a wave. "Sort of like a rebound?"
He snapped his fingers, "That's it! Harmony was just a rebound, a way for me to get over my dark princess."
"Did it work?"
"Well... I don't think about her every hour: it's a start."
She sighed. "It never finishes though." She smiled at the questions in his gaze. "Every day you see memories of what you shared together, and everyday your heart breaks more and more until it's nothing but a pile of rotten, smelling, mouldy ash." She started to cry, knowing that no one else in the world would be willing to watch her, settling for the man who had once cried to her, hoping that he would return the favour, but knowing deep down that he never could. "And you try to fix it, sure, but it breaks again before you can even recall who you were before the pain." Her knees buckled from the pain that drowned her, landing softly on the grass of the cemetery, not caring any more about anything. It was all too much.
He watched her closely as she cried, letting her heart to break more, looking on as it began to heal. He would watch over her tonight, he had owed her that much, after everything that he had done to her and in return everything that she had done for him. He knew her pain, not long ago it had been the same as his, and... better hidden, it still was. He still loved Drusila more than his own life, and every day he woke wondering where she was, whom she was with and every night he went to sleep wishing that he didn't allow her to have such a hold upon him.
So tonight, he would be the strength that no one would offer her when she had none of her own; he would stand guard over her aching form—making sure that no one would dare hurt her—not even herself.
Authors Note: This story takes place in Season 4, right after Something Blue, Hush, Doomed (same night as Doomed end... basically he rants, they leave).
Second Chance
It had been the only way to shut him up; bitching and nagging non-stop until they finally consented, he not even wanting to wait long enough for Buffy to join them, the three humans headed out with the bleached blond vampire into the night, all with better things to do but knowing that nothing was about to happen until they were able to keep Spike quiet.
Xander, wishing that looks really did kill and that Spike's head would slowly blow up, finding a minuet solace in that secretly the chip in the Vamp's head might be doing it for him, fell into step with Willow. "Remember our deal Wills, we go out with Mr. No-Longer-Bitey and you take him off my hands for a while," he lowered his voice slightly, "Anya's getting a little upset."
Anya rolled her eyes. "I need my orgasms Xander," the ex-demon said harshly from behind the life-long friends, not wanting to be out there more than anyone else, "If Willow was getting orgasms she wouldn't want to be here either."
Willow sighed. The count was now 28. That was how many times she had said the word orgasm in the last two hours. They had only come upon two creatures of the night in that time and neither of them were any real threat; both were too scared of Spike to even hit back. She stopped, facing the couple with a soft smile. "Why don't you two just head home? I'll stay here with Bitey." She finished with a nod towards where Spike was standing, not far off, impatiently tapping his feet.
Xander's face lit up. "Really?" His expression grew serious again as he considered the situation. "Are you sure?" His gaze filtered between Anya, as anxious for her orgasms as he was, and Spike, both of his heads at war with each other.
She nodded, resolve face firmly in place. "Go ahead, it's not like he can hurt me anyways."
"Hey!!" Spike spat out, pausing in lighting his cigarette. "Play nice." He pointed at her, unlit cigarette between his fingers. "Or I might just start singing." He winked with a smile.
She spared him only a glance as she again focused on her best friend. She knew that his relationship with Anya had been strained as of late, since Spike came to live in the stank filled basement not even fit for one. And Xander deserved happiness with someone, even if she could not find happiness for herself. Pain leapt in her chest at the memory of what she lost; she swallowed, looking away, knowing that they didn't want to know of her pain. "We'll do a final sweep of the cemetery then head in. I'll bring him back before sunrise."
Anya engulfed Willow in a hug before joining Xander in running away. Willow sighed again, sadness etched in the every contour of her lonely face, as she watched them leave; jumping slightly when she turned around, almost running face first into Spike. He looked down at her as though she were five and had chocolate over her face, one eyebrow cocked, reminding her of the way he looked at her that night in her dorm, when she told him that she wasn't pretty enough to bite.
She looked down to his hands, to the cigarette that was shifting idly between his fingers, black nail polish chipped, and she tried to steady her mind by wondering why he painted them and where he got the polish. It didn't work and her words came out unsteady and nervous. "What?"
He hid a laugh as he inhaled, nodding in the direction of the retreating couple. "Them." He said simply drawing her eyes back to his face. "Doesn't it make you want to kill them? Being all lovey-dovey?"
She couldn't help but smile. "Lovey-dovey?" It sounded strange coming from a man who considered himself the biggest bad around.
He ignored her comment as he slowly started walking again, grateful for a moment's silence, an instant away from the mortal youth who pissed him off to the point that he was willing to stake himself. Pissing them off in turn hadn't been enough to satisfy him, to keep him sane. If it hadn't been for Willow, he would be a pile of dust in a vacuum right now, a memory of a nightmare long ago outgrown, like a bad television show long since cancelled. In the depths of himself he was grateful, but right then, it was more important to him to play. "Miss the sex though."
Her eyes shot to him. He had been silent for almost a minute, his face expressionless and almost innocent and she had thought that he had settled for quiet reflection. "What?"
"Relationships, I miss the sex," he answered with no hint of hesitation or shyness. She shook her head meekly; amazed that someone could be so sure of themselves. She could never be like that, Oz tried to pretend he was, but she had known that he was even more scared than she was. She swallowed hard, mentally scolding herself for mentioning Oz, feelings wanting to be remembered, needs longing to be fulfilled willing themselves to the forefront of her mind, causing her to stare even more at Spike, understanding his words more than anyone else could ever know.
He continued on, only faintly aware of the change in Willow's heartbeat and breath. "Dru was wild, always different. Harm," his forehead scrunched in disgust as he threw his cigarette away, "well, lets not think about Harmony. But, she did in a pinch. Sometimes that's all you need, you know?"
She nodded. "Yeah," she smiled again, sadness coming off of her in a wave. "Sort of like a rebound?"
He snapped his fingers, "That's it! Harmony was just a rebound, a way for me to get over my dark princess."
"Did it work?"
"Well... I don't think about her every hour: it's a start."
She sighed. "It never finishes though." She smiled at the questions in his gaze. "Every day you see memories of what you shared together, and everyday your heart breaks more and more until it's nothing but a pile of rotten, smelling, mouldy ash." She started to cry, knowing that no one else in the world would be willing to watch her, settling for the man who had once cried to her, hoping that he would return the favour, but knowing deep down that he never could. "And you try to fix it, sure, but it breaks again before you can even recall who you were before the pain." Her knees buckled from the pain that drowned her, landing softly on the grass of the cemetery, not caring any more about anything. It was all too much.
He watched her closely as she cried, letting her heart to break more, looking on as it began to heal. He would watch over her tonight, he had owed her that much, after everything that he had done to her and in return everything that she had done for him. He knew her pain, not long ago it had been the same as his, and... better hidden, it still was. He still loved Drusila more than his own life, and every day he woke wondering where she was, whom she was with and every night he went to sleep wishing that he didn't allow her to have such a hold upon him.
So tonight, he would be the strength that no one would offer her when she had none of her own; he would stand guard over her aching form—making sure that no one would dare hurt her—not even herself.