DISCLAIMER: I own squat,
nada, zilch, zero *sniff*. I bow down to the respective deities that are
Michael Crichton and Joss Whedon. Yes, this is a Buffy crossover, see notes
below.
DEDICATED: to my muse
Emma, and my dear friend Mary Ellen
NOTES: This fic is a
crossover between Buffy and ER. Here's the sitch:
-
Set after the Buffy finale
"The Gift", yes, Buffy is dead
-
Ignores the main events of
series seven of ER, except that Carter did go to rehab and such.
-
This story makes reference
to Buffy-trivia, I'll explain what I can at the bottom
Belted in? Let's go (I'm
feeling VERY cheesy, needless to say)!
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Have you ever experienced
true release? Pure, unadulterated relief? Action without consequence, theorists
would call it.
Release comes through
rebirth. I was transformed from a pathetic wreck of a man into a strong,
perfect being.
It was a rush that it gave
me, a feeling of control. And I'm not apologetic, because now I see, in the
grand scheme of things, guilt is a waste of time.
You wanna know how I got
here?
How long do you have?
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Blood is life……It's what
keeps you going, makes you warm, makes you hard, makes you other than dead".
Spike, "The Gift"
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
TRAIN LEAVING CALIFORNIA, JUNE 2001
A young man sat with his
head in his hands, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes.
He couldn't, and they
flowed silently down his chiselled face.
She was dead.
The perky, blond thing
that had annoyed the hell out of him.
But he loved her. The
magnitude of his affection surprised him. He wasn't supposed to, but he
couldn't help himself.
Then she was killed and he
ran away. Not that anyone would notice or care.
The loneliness he felt was
like a ravine, a sharp, jagged canyon that cut into his heart.
He wasn't leaving to
search for past loves, or avenge her death; he just needed to disappear.
It was strange the blows
fate dealt him. He should have been overjoyed at the return of his power, his
inter-cranial chip de-activated by a well-positioned blow to the head.
And yet, he didn't care.
He was free, free to kill,
free to feed, but apathy pervaded his every cell.
He reflected on his own
humble beginnings.
He was sired by the most
alluring of vampires, and made a childe of the legendary Angelus. Angelus was
his mentor, the one who nurtured him, trained him, encouraged him.
It finally hit him.
He would sire someone,
teach them the tricks of the trade, foster their growth in eternal life. It
might help fill the voids in his own
pathetic, undead existence.
And so he stepped off the
train to head for the nearest bar, the streetlights glinting on his peroxide
hair. He looked back towards the train station.
"Union Station, eh?", he
muttered to himself.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
COUNTY GENERAL, CHICAGO
"I am outta here!" John
Carter sighed in relief as he signed out at the admit desk. It had been a long,
tiring day, and he just wanted to relax.
"Hey, Carter, wait!"
Carter looked up to see
Malucci bounding down the hall.
"What about that drink,
man?"
"I told you, Dave, I don't
drink!"
"Hey, come on, come out to
the bar with me anyway! I owe you one for keeping me in the Chief's good books!"
Malucci raised his eyebrows pleadingly. "One quick, non-alcoholic drink, then.
I'm not taking no for an answer."
Carter sighed again, this
time in resignation. Dave wasn't so bad.
"Alright, but if you piss
me off I'm going home!"
"Cool."
The two residents headed
out into the night of the Windy City, entering a bar two blocks away.
"You always go into seedy
bars like this, Dave?"
"Hey, Hoss, it's got
atmosphere!"
"Yeah, whatever!"
Carter followed Dave to
the bar, planting himself on a stool.
"One beer and, uh…"
"An orange juice, please".
"Well, it sounds more
appetising than what that guy's having! Look, dude, it's like blood!" Dave
spoke in undertones to his friend.
Carter glanced to his left
to see a man in a leather trenchcoat staring into a glass of warm, red liquid.
Freaked out, he turned back., eyes wide.
"He looks out of it, kinda
depressed."
"Yeah, but what the f**k
is that he's drinking!"
A Cockney voice
interrupted their musings.
"Fill 'er up, mate."
"O-negative again?" the
barman enquired of the stranger.
"Yeah", he replied,
holding out his glass.
Carter's own O-negative
was running cold in his vessels.
"Uh, Dave, maybe we'd
better get out of here."
Malucci had heard the
man's request; he was fixed to the spot.
"Yeah….". Dave was
transfixed, his eyes held in morbid fascination.
The stranger caught Dave
staring at him.
"It's okay, I won't bite
mate."
The colour drained from
Carter's face, Dave cleared his throat. He' d seen this before in Grenada,
annoyed that he hadn't realised before what it was.
"Yeah, it's cool man…"
The white-haired stranger
nodded in understanding.
"You want a drink?"
"Of that? Uh, no thanks!"
Dave spoke for both him and Carter, who was still mesmerised.
"No, a regular drink, you
look as if you need it."
Dave simply stared at him.
"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt
you, if that's what you're thinking, I just-oh I dunno!"
"Hey, man, we're cool…I'm
Dave, this is John."
Carter glared at Dave for
revealing his name.
"Spike's the name."
His revelation did nothing
to calm Carter's fears. Dave swallowed, the name sounded familiar. His eyes
darted across to meet Carter's, doing their utmost to reassure him.
"So, uh, what about that
drink?" he asked Spike.
"Course. Hey, I didn't
meant to scare you." Spike's present humanity was beginning to scare him,
however. Though he didn't care about his evil persona anymore; he just wanted
companionship.
As the barman served
Carter and Dave, Spike pulled pills from his pocket and dropped into their
drinks with a satisfying plink as they looked at each other.
"To better times." He
toasted his new acquaintances, who were still uneasy.
They nervously lifted
their glasses and gulped down their respective requests.
Spike studied them, afraid
of what he had just done.
* Why am I so bleeding
caring? What should I care if they live or die? *
It was then and there he
decided that they would be his childer…….
NOTES(2):
SIRE: a verb meaning to
transform a human into a vampire
CHILDE: a human sired
as a vampire to train as an equal, as opposed to a minion (created to serve).
