Title: Spikes' New Moniker
Author: Oblio
Disclaimer:
The characters contained in this fiction are not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and their associates at UPN and Warner Bros, the producers of BTVS and "Angel". It's not my intention therefore to breach copyright or to profit from this work. It's just a bit of silliness.
What is More:
Warning, Danger Will Robinson! Major POSSIBLE Spoilers for BTVS Season 6. Adult Themes? Read on at your own discretion and judge for yourself.
This piece is a speculation based on an interview of the show's Executive Producer, Marti Noxon by Sci Fi Wire on the 18th of January 2002. In it she claims the storylines of BTVS are becoming darker as the characters have some growing up to do and must ultimately deal with the consequences of choices they have made this year, the B/S relationship being one of them.
Themes:
It's a sillyfic
Rating: PG 13
Plot: The consequences of Spike's and Buffy's actions ala Season 6 catch up with them, earning Spike a new moniker.
Feedback:
Yes Please.
Email: oblio10@start.com.au
______________________________
Part: All
Buffy had been throwing up every morning for about eight days now. "Perfect ending to a glorious year," she mused silently as Willow transported her to their local HMO. "First sacrificing her own life to save her sister, then being dragged out of heaven and having to dig herself out of own grave. Caring then for, not only her wilful, argumentative, teen, little sister (God, like battling the reflection in a mirror!) but also nursemaiding her heartbroken, magic addicted, best friend. ALONE. No mom to lend a hand and abandoned by an absentee Watcher with impeccable timing!"
"All the while finding a way to pay the bills, keeping the wolves/social workers from her door, water out of the basement, unwanted ex boyfriends out of her life, counter the inept activities of the Super-Geek squad and maintain her Slaying duties. 'Then there was Spike!" Another wave of nausea swept over Buffy causing a sharp intake of breath and bleary eyes to catch the attention of her driver.
"You Ok Buffy?" asked the concerned but tentative redhead. "It...Its just for the last couple of minutes you've been mumbling something I can't quite understand and ..."
"Pull over Will," interjected the Slayer. "Gotta barf again."
Thirty seconds later, leaning out the open car door Buffy finished retching into the gutter, truly awe struck that her stomach still managed to find something to heave up. "SPIKE," she thought. "As if to gild the lily on this stellar year she had formed a 'RELATIONSHIP' with a manipulative, demanding, 130 year old, undead, bad boy whose psychopathic tendencies were only kept in check by modern micro-electronics. They shared each other confidences and a twisted sexual tryst that she simultaneously loathed and revelled in."
"Spike! By God if he is the cause of how I feel right now the Peroxide Pest would soon enough get the sharp end of my wrath in the form of Mr Pointy. Good sex or no!" thought Buffy continuing her inner monologue, rage shifting her attention off her churning stomach.
"The clinic's only three more blocks away," encouraged Willow. "We'll be there in no time. Just try keep it together a bit longer."
Buffy raised a weak smile and answered. "You got it Will. One step at a time."
____________________________
Later back at Revello Drive as evening draws near...
A gentle knock on the front door announced Xander's arrival at the Summers residence.
"Come," invited Willow.
The Scoobies sans Xander and his partner were bunkered in the living room. 'Bunkered' seemed the appropriate term as Xander walked in on a decidedly chilly atmosphere. Willow shared the couch with Buffy, curled up in the corner glowering, while the Slayer, hunched up on it, hugged her knees to her chest, wore a grim expression and steadfastly ignored the gaze of burning annoyance from the vampire seated just across from her. Dawn sat on the other chair, legs drawn up under her, one hand cupping her elbow while its knuckle supported her chin, intently watching this silent exchange. The adjective, "tense" seemed a bit inadequate in expressing the mood within the room at this precise moment, probably why Tara had retreated to the the kitchen.
Dawn flashed Xander a half smile in greeting and queried, "Anya?"
"Still closing up the 'Box. She'll be by a bit later," replied Xander. "So Dawnie why the grim faces all round?"
"It's been like this since I got home from school," moped Dawn. "Big Sis called a meeting but no one's talking to each other and the sitch in this house is decidedly icky."
"So what's the deal Buff?" questioned Xander, turning his attention to the Slayer. "Prophecy? Hellmouth decided to up our unfun quota for this year? I know you've not been feeling a hundred percent of late but we can... Err, it's not another apocalypse is it? 'Cause....."
"I'm pregnant," blurted out the Slayer.
Save for the slayer couch, eyebrows shot up and faces wore stunned expressions round the room.
"Holy Crap!" interjected Dawn.
"Your what!" uttered a stunned Xander.
"Pregnant. With child. A bun in the oven. Up the duff," Buffy emphasised, the last sentence in a badly executed, mocking, cockney accent that drew a curious expression from the Vampire seated across from her. "Six weeks. The doctor confirmed it this morning."
"That Riley Finn!" ranted Xander. "He thinks he can waltz in and out of your life and damn the consequences...."
"Its not Riley, Xan," said a weary sounding Buffy. "Do the math. I haven't seen him in over two months. "The father, Cluedo fans, is sitting in this room."
For the first time that evening Buffy made firm eye contact with Spike and held his gaze. The blond vampire's eyes widened as realisation dawned but this was quickly replaced by a smirk.
"Impossible!" spat Spike in reply. "Vampire people! Undead! 'Can't make little vampires that way.
Their audiences' stunned expressions all went up a degree in magnitude as the import of this exchange sunk in and caused Dawn to repeat, "Ho-l-y Cr-a-p," emphasising each syllable.
But Buffy's expression remained unchanged once again unnerving the Vamp. "Nothing sacred about this union Sis'," she answered.
"How could YOU let this happen?" countered an angry Blond Menace.
"TYPICAL MALE!" exploded an as until now silent Willow. "Its straddle the saddle jiggle away, have your bit of fun and then let the woman handle the consequences! Well...Hellmouth dummy! Mystical convergence of energies! We all know your chip isn't affected when you attack her so I guess it's as you claim. She came back wrong! And if there was an exchange of blood in one of your more violent physical couplings well then...."
The last couple of lines elicited a low despairing groan from Buffy and halted Willows tirade. Spike shot Willow a look of disgust
"Oh...Sorry Buffy," replied a more subdued Willow.
Shellshocked, all Xander could come up with was, "So Spike. I guess from now on you'll have to be known as 'William the Daddy'."
____________________________
The thethe thethe that's all folks!
Author: Oblio
Disclaimer:
The characters contained in this fiction are not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and their associates at UPN and Warner Bros, the producers of BTVS and "Angel". It's not my intention therefore to breach copyright or to profit from this work. It's just a bit of silliness.
What is More:
Warning, Danger Will Robinson! Major POSSIBLE Spoilers for BTVS Season 6. Adult Themes? Read on at your own discretion and judge for yourself.
This piece is a speculation based on an interview of the show's Executive Producer, Marti Noxon by Sci Fi Wire on the 18th of January 2002. In it she claims the storylines of BTVS are becoming darker as the characters have some growing up to do and must ultimately deal with the consequences of choices they have made this year, the B/S relationship being one of them.
Themes:
It's a sillyfic
Rating: PG 13
Plot: The consequences of Spike's and Buffy's actions ala Season 6 catch up with them, earning Spike a new moniker.
Feedback:
Yes Please.
Email: oblio10@start.com.au
______________________________
Part: All
Buffy had been throwing up every morning for about eight days now. "Perfect ending to a glorious year," she mused silently as Willow transported her to their local HMO. "First sacrificing her own life to save her sister, then being dragged out of heaven and having to dig herself out of own grave. Caring then for, not only her wilful, argumentative, teen, little sister (God, like battling the reflection in a mirror!) but also nursemaiding her heartbroken, magic addicted, best friend. ALONE. No mom to lend a hand and abandoned by an absentee Watcher with impeccable timing!"
"All the while finding a way to pay the bills, keeping the wolves/social workers from her door, water out of the basement, unwanted ex boyfriends out of her life, counter the inept activities of the Super-Geek squad and maintain her Slaying duties. 'Then there was Spike!" Another wave of nausea swept over Buffy causing a sharp intake of breath and bleary eyes to catch the attention of her driver.
"You Ok Buffy?" asked the concerned but tentative redhead. "It...Its just for the last couple of minutes you've been mumbling something I can't quite understand and ..."
"Pull over Will," interjected the Slayer. "Gotta barf again."
Thirty seconds later, leaning out the open car door Buffy finished retching into the gutter, truly awe struck that her stomach still managed to find something to heave up. "SPIKE," she thought. "As if to gild the lily on this stellar year she had formed a 'RELATIONSHIP' with a manipulative, demanding, 130 year old, undead, bad boy whose psychopathic tendencies were only kept in check by modern micro-electronics. They shared each other confidences and a twisted sexual tryst that she simultaneously loathed and revelled in."
"Spike! By God if he is the cause of how I feel right now the Peroxide Pest would soon enough get the sharp end of my wrath in the form of Mr Pointy. Good sex or no!" thought Buffy continuing her inner monologue, rage shifting her attention off her churning stomach.
"The clinic's only three more blocks away," encouraged Willow. "We'll be there in no time. Just try keep it together a bit longer."
Buffy raised a weak smile and answered. "You got it Will. One step at a time."
____________________________
Later back at Revello Drive as evening draws near...
A gentle knock on the front door announced Xander's arrival at the Summers residence.
"Come," invited Willow.
The Scoobies sans Xander and his partner were bunkered in the living room. 'Bunkered' seemed the appropriate term as Xander walked in on a decidedly chilly atmosphere. Willow shared the couch with Buffy, curled up in the corner glowering, while the Slayer, hunched up on it, hugged her knees to her chest, wore a grim expression and steadfastly ignored the gaze of burning annoyance from the vampire seated just across from her. Dawn sat on the other chair, legs drawn up under her, one hand cupping her elbow while its knuckle supported her chin, intently watching this silent exchange. The adjective, "tense" seemed a bit inadequate in expressing the mood within the room at this precise moment, probably why Tara had retreated to the the kitchen.
Dawn flashed Xander a half smile in greeting and queried, "Anya?"
"Still closing up the 'Box. She'll be by a bit later," replied Xander. "So Dawnie why the grim faces all round?"
"It's been like this since I got home from school," moped Dawn. "Big Sis called a meeting but no one's talking to each other and the sitch in this house is decidedly icky."
"So what's the deal Buff?" questioned Xander, turning his attention to the Slayer. "Prophecy? Hellmouth decided to up our unfun quota for this year? I know you've not been feeling a hundred percent of late but we can... Err, it's not another apocalypse is it? 'Cause....."
"I'm pregnant," blurted out the Slayer.
Save for the slayer couch, eyebrows shot up and faces wore stunned expressions round the room.
"Holy Crap!" interjected Dawn.
"Your what!" uttered a stunned Xander.
"Pregnant. With child. A bun in the oven. Up the duff," Buffy emphasised, the last sentence in a badly executed, mocking, cockney accent that drew a curious expression from the Vampire seated across from her. "Six weeks. The doctor confirmed it this morning."
"That Riley Finn!" ranted Xander. "He thinks he can waltz in and out of your life and damn the consequences...."
"Its not Riley, Xan," said a weary sounding Buffy. "Do the math. I haven't seen him in over two months. "The father, Cluedo fans, is sitting in this room."
For the first time that evening Buffy made firm eye contact with Spike and held his gaze. The blond vampire's eyes widened as realisation dawned but this was quickly replaced by a smirk.
"Impossible!" spat Spike in reply. "Vampire people! Undead! 'Can't make little vampires that way.
Their audiences' stunned expressions all went up a degree in magnitude as the import of this exchange sunk in and caused Dawn to repeat, "Ho-l-y Cr-a-p," emphasising each syllable.
But Buffy's expression remained unchanged once again unnerving the Vamp. "Nothing sacred about this union Sis'," she answered.
"How could YOU let this happen?" countered an angry Blond Menace.
"TYPICAL MALE!" exploded an as until now silent Willow. "Its straddle the saddle jiggle away, have your bit of fun and then let the woman handle the consequences! Well...Hellmouth dummy! Mystical convergence of energies! We all know your chip isn't affected when you attack her so I guess it's as you claim. She came back wrong! And if there was an exchange of blood in one of your more violent physical couplings well then...."
The last couple of lines elicited a low despairing groan from Buffy and halted Willows tirade. Spike shot Willow a look of disgust
"Oh...Sorry Buffy," replied a more subdued Willow.
Shellshocked, all Xander could come up with was, "So Spike. I guess from now on you'll have to be known as 'William the Daddy'."
____________________________
The thethe thethe that's all folks!