Hi, it's been a while since I wrote. Been busy and I had no inspiration I
guess. Adjusting to Buffy ending and Angel's new direction. It's hard to be
a Spuffy these days, especially with Sarah declining to come back for a
guest shot on Angel. Closure, it seems, is not within our grasp.
Didn't plan on putting this one on the net. I wrote this story for my wife and she said I should post it anyway. And I am Spike to her Buffy and obey her every whim. Anyway, this story deals with Spuffy feelings in a way that not everyone will like, just to give fair warning.
Disclaimer: These characters are all Joss' and ME's property. I own nothing. In fact I'm lying in a gutter somewhere as I type this and the guy I swiped the laptop from is calling the police...better hurry.
LIKE DYING A LITTLE
CHAPTER I:
Spike leaned back in the expensive leather desk chair. He stared up at the ceiling of Angel's office and sighed. The pencil in his hand tapped impatiently on the notepad on his lap.
They'd be coming soon.
One foot on the desk, the other on the ground, he turned from left to right in the chair at a constant rhythm. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. This was tough. He'd spent so much time burying the part of him that wanted to write that it wasn't easy exhuming it on the spot.
Especially not under these circumstances.
He couldn't hold them off forever and he knew it. Angel's private stash of blood was running out and without it he couldn't keep his strength up. And his wounds wouldn't heal all that well either. Which means time was running out on him...again.
Deadlines. They'll give you writer's block anytime. He shook his head and hoisted himself up, putting the notepad on the desk. "Come on, you useless bugger. Not like you're trying to come up with war and bloody peace! Just write.."
He stopped. Yeah. Just write. Just write her. Just write what you won't get to say. You've spent a couple of years at her feet and you had no trouble pouring it all out then. Not that any of it ever mattered. But that was different. Those were all attempts at winning her over. Which is not what you're trying to do now. You're trying to...be honest? Set the record straight?
What could he say that hadn't been said already?
In front of him he heard a soft moan. He looked up and saw Lorne still lying on the couch, stirring a bit. Dreaming probably. Didn't look like any of his wounds had reopened. Spike's lip pulled up to the right. Funny thing about that guy. Every time he'd been certain the guy was a poofter, he'd hear him go homina over some sexy broad. Ah well, he was a demon. Maybe he swung both ways. He looked over to the corner where Knox's dead body was still lying. Of all the people he could have wound up being isolated with, it had to be the non- fighters. At least Gunn would have hold his own. Even the ex-Watcher had some grit in him lately. Spike teased him a lot, since Watchers still kind of rubbed him the wrong way, but he had a silent bit of respect for Wesley. Besides, any guy who got kicked out by those dusty old gits couldn't be THAT bad.
But no, he had gotten trapped in here with two of the least useful guys in battle. He'd done his best to look out for them, but there were just too many. Science boy got tagged good in the third attack. Before they got the barricades up. He and Lorne had done their best to tend to him but there wasn't much they could do. He hadn't seemed to suffer. Which was probably more than you could say about Spike himself, if the past was any indication.
He looked at Knox's face. Funny, he looked pale and crappy, but not dead. Just asleep. From a distance anyway. But he'd seen too many dead bodies not to know the difference. Poor Fred. She would be upset. Knox and her had been working closely together and she was a sweet and sensitive little thing. Funny thing was, Knox had always looked familiar to Spike. Could never place him, but.. Even now he got momentarily distracted looking at his face. Well, probably nothing anyway. He'd met a lot of people over the years, and he'd seen a lot of them dead too.
And pretty pointless to wonder about something like that. He and Lorne were likely to join Knox soon. Oh, he was sure the others were outside, doing whatever they'd come up with. Trying to get in, get the right spell going, whatever. But they sure were taking their time.
She was probably with them. Out there. Right now.
And he couldn't even look. The windows were all dark. There was nothing to see. Made him wonder if the entire office was in some dimensional warp or on the threshold of one or something. Didn't matter much to him. Theorizing was pretty pointless right now. They were in. They couldn't get out. All they could do was wait. And fight.
And hope.
Yeah..she was probably out there now. With them. They'd left Europe to join Team Poofter yesterday morning, before it all went crazy. Probably with ole Watcher boy, Red and a couple of Slayerettes. Maybe even the little Bit.
Probably exchanging notes with Wesley and Fred and pouring over whatever old texts were handy. He'd seen it all plenty of times, on both 'teams'. He had to chuckle at that. Always part of their groups, usually not really wanting to be...makes you wonder about that 'free will' thing.
But then he hadn't had any free will since he woke up from that dream about 3 years ago. Since he woke up with the taste of her lips still on his. And realizing how badly he wanted that taste.
He turned back to the notepad. Come on now. Can't be that hard. Just..write.
He looked up at the windows again, and the impenetrable darkness behind them. It pissed him off. Could he at least take a peek at her from the top of a skyscraper? No, of course not. Not even a crumb. What else is new. But then maybe it was better this way. He'd see her stand next to him, no doubt. While he was up here looking like an idiot. What could he do, wave? Nah.....
He sighed again and put the pencil to the paper. 'Hello Luv,....'
Yeah. He had that an hour ago. Would be good to move on now. He was nervous about it. It felt important. Because he could die? Yeah. But it didn't worry him as much as it used to. Last time was worse. At least now he could fight like he preferred to. And he wouldn't have to look in her eyes....
He leant his head forward, down on the desk. He remembered her eyes as she said it: 'I love you'. Too bad he was so damn good at seeing people for what they are. So good at seeing what people are really feeling. Sure even the most insightful guy in the world fools himself when he's in love, and he'd done that plenty. But at that moment there was no doubt about it. The simple truth. She cared about him. Enough to lie about loving him so he'd die happy.
That wasn't what hurt so much though. She'd been telling him she didn't love him in about a hundred different flavors for a long while now. But he'd always tried to keep believing that she really did. Or rather, that she really could, if she would give it a chance.
And that's what really killed him. There at the end, as she said it and he looked into her eyes and saw that she was lying for his sake... he felt a sad acceptance wash over him. That it was true that she didn't love him. And that it was also true that she really could have.
Had things gone different.
"I'm sure that someone could write that up beautifully with this great bloody taste of irony in it somewhere" he muttered to himself.
He thought back. Go different? Where to begin? At the beginning? How much more wrong can you get? They were enemies. The Slayer of Vampires and the Killer of Slayers. He remembered seeing her for the first time. Dancing at the Bronze. So young, so full of life and power, and yet so naïve in so many ways. He'd wanted her even then.
Granted, mostly to rape her before killing her, but he definitely felt an instant tugging of wanting her. Then they danced the dance for a while. She was a beautiful enemy, a source of frustration and defeat. He hated that because he wanted to win all his fights, but at the same time, nothing made life worth living so much as having a fiery Slayer for an opponent that just won't die.
Then the whole mess with Dru leaving him, and getting that chip in his head. Not the greatest period of his existence. Dumped, helpless, pathetic. He'd fought so hard, for so long, not to be pathetic anymore. Never again. Didn't quite work out that way. His most pathetic moments lay ahead of him. When he learned that Dru was right.
Even soulless, his fascination with the Slayer had gone way deeper..until all he knew was how much he longed for her. Sure, his early attempts at showing her he'd changed were just to woo her. But hey, he was soulless! Didn't really know how to be in love with a souled person. Or what to do about it. He made a couple mistakes then. Like chaining her up, showing her he'd kill Dru, threatening to feed her to Dru if she didn't admit some affection for him. God, now that he had a soul, how pathetic and stupid that all seemed. Yeah, surefire way to win her over, mate. And yet at the time it actually had seemed logical. He had been so surprised when he bounced off her de-invited door opening. It had hurt so bad.
But after the Glory thing, she'd changed. She still didn't return his feelings, but she at least believed his were real. It took getting tortured close to death, but hey.. And the whole fight against Glory had been overpowering for everyone. Destruction of the universe, Dawn's possible death... He'd done his best. He'd failed like a damn amateur, but he'd tried. Old coot tossed him off the tower. God it still made him grind his teeth. He'd been so close to saving the day.
But he hadn't. She had. At the cost of her life. Because he'd failed. He hadn't known that pain on that level was possible. Or guilt. You weren't supposed to feel that without a soul were you? And yet...nothing had mattered anymore except making up his failure to her memory and her little sis.
But she'd come back. Oh dear god, the kind of thing you dream of when a loved one has died. The fairy tale kind of impossibility that can't be. And yet, there she'd been. He thought it was the bot at first, but after only a second he knew. He saw her eyes, he smelled her hair, her skin. He thought he'd choke on the emotion.
Of course her resurrection brought it's own complications.
The fact she didn't love him was something he'd almost forgotten. He'd told her before she died. That he knew she didn't love him. But she treated him like a man and that..had meant something. Something a monster shouldn't deserve. It was true and he knew it. Just like when he told Cecily he was a bad poet. He'd never even let himself think it, but when push comes to shove..well, you know what you know. And he hadn't expected to survive the coming battle against Glory anyway so it was easily said.
Okay, not so easily. but it had been said. Of course now that she had been alive and near him again, how was it possible to not want her? But what would he do? What was his role now that she was back?
To his surprise, it was a better one that he'd had before. She came to him. She enjoyed hanging out with him. She even seemed to prefer it to hanging out with her friends. They were all concerned and pushy and he wasn't. He didn't make demands of her that way. She could be careless around him. She'd opened up to him in ways she hadn't to them.
It had felt so good.
TBC
Didn't plan on putting this one on the net. I wrote this story for my wife and she said I should post it anyway. And I am Spike to her Buffy and obey her every whim. Anyway, this story deals with Spuffy feelings in a way that not everyone will like, just to give fair warning.
Disclaimer: These characters are all Joss' and ME's property. I own nothing. In fact I'm lying in a gutter somewhere as I type this and the guy I swiped the laptop from is calling the police...better hurry.
LIKE DYING A LITTLE
CHAPTER I:
Spike leaned back in the expensive leather desk chair. He stared up at the ceiling of Angel's office and sighed. The pencil in his hand tapped impatiently on the notepad on his lap.
They'd be coming soon.
One foot on the desk, the other on the ground, he turned from left to right in the chair at a constant rhythm. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. This was tough. He'd spent so much time burying the part of him that wanted to write that it wasn't easy exhuming it on the spot.
Especially not under these circumstances.
He couldn't hold them off forever and he knew it. Angel's private stash of blood was running out and without it he couldn't keep his strength up. And his wounds wouldn't heal all that well either. Which means time was running out on him...again.
Deadlines. They'll give you writer's block anytime. He shook his head and hoisted himself up, putting the notepad on the desk. "Come on, you useless bugger. Not like you're trying to come up with war and bloody peace! Just write.."
He stopped. Yeah. Just write. Just write her. Just write what you won't get to say. You've spent a couple of years at her feet and you had no trouble pouring it all out then. Not that any of it ever mattered. But that was different. Those were all attempts at winning her over. Which is not what you're trying to do now. You're trying to...be honest? Set the record straight?
What could he say that hadn't been said already?
In front of him he heard a soft moan. He looked up and saw Lorne still lying on the couch, stirring a bit. Dreaming probably. Didn't look like any of his wounds had reopened. Spike's lip pulled up to the right. Funny thing about that guy. Every time he'd been certain the guy was a poofter, he'd hear him go homina over some sexy broad. Ah well, he was a demon. Maybe he swung both ways. He looked over to the corner where Knox's dead body was still lying. Of all the people he could have wound up being isolated with, it had to be the non- fighters. At least Gunn would have hold his own. Even the ex-Watcher had some grit in him lately. Spike teased him a lot, since Watchers still kind of rubbed him the wrong way, but he had a silent bit of respect for Wesley. Besides, any guy who got kicked out by those dusty old gits couldn't be THAT bad.
But no, he had gotten trapped in here with two of the least useful guys in battle. He'd done his best to look out for them, but there were just too many. Science boy got tagged good in the third attack. Before they got the barricades up. He and Lorne had done their best to tend to him but there wasn't much they could do. He hadn't seemed to suffer. Which was probably more than you could say about Spike himself, if the past was any indication.
He looked at Knox's face. Funny, he looked pale and crappy, but not dead. Just asleep. From a distance anyway. But he'd seen too many dead bodies not to know the difference. Poor Fred. She would be upset. Knox and her had been working closely together and she was a sweet and sensitive little thing. Funny thing was, Knox had always looked familiar to Spike. Could never place him, but.. Even now he got momentarily distracted looking at his face. Well, probably nothing anyway. He'd met a lot of people over the years, and he'd seen a lot of them dead too.
And pretty pointless to wonder about something like that. He and Lorne were likely to join Knox soon. Oh, he was sure the others were outside, doing whatever they'd come up with. Trying to get in, get the right spell going, whatever. But they sure were taking their time.
She was probably with them. Out there. Right now.
And he couldn't even look. The windows were all dark. There was nothing to see. Made him wonder if the entire office was in some dimensional warp or on the threshold of one or something. Didn't matter much to him. Theorizing was pretty pointless right now. They were in. They couldn't get out. All they could do was wait. And fight.
And hope.
Yeah..she was probably out there now. With them. They'd left Europe to join Team Poofter yesterday morning, before it all went crazy. Probably with ole Watcher boy, Red and a couple of Slayerettes. Maybe even the little Bit.
Probably exchanging notes with Wesley and Fred and pouring over whatever old texts were handy. He'd seen it all plenty of times, on both 'teams'. He had to chuckle at that. Always part of their groups, usually not really wanting to be...makes you wonder about that 'free will' thing.
But then he hadn't had any free will since he woke up from that dream about 3 years ago. Since he woke up with the taste of her lips still on his. And realizing how badly he wanted that taste.
He turned back to the notepad. Come on now. Can't be that hard. Just..write.
He looked up at the windows again, and the impenetrable darkness behind them. It pissed him off. Could he at least take a peek at her from the top of a skyscraper? No, of course not. Not even a crumb. What else is new. But then maybe it was better this way. He'd see her stand next to him, no doubt. While he was up here looking like an idiot. What could he do, wave? Nah.....
He sighed again and put the pencil to the paper. 'Hello Luv,....'
Yeah. He had that an hour ago. Would be good to move on now. He was nervous about it. It felt important. Because he could die? Yeah. But it didn't worry him as much as it used to. Last time was worse. At least now he could fight like he preferred to. And he wouldn't have to look in her eyes....
He leant his head forward, down on the desk. He remembered her eyes as she said it: 'I love you'. Too bad he was so damn good at seeing people for what they are. So good at seeing what people are really feeling. Sure even the most insightful guy in the world fools himself when he's in love, and he'd done that plenty. But at that moment there was no doubt about it. The simple truth. She cared about him. Enough to lie about loving him so he'd die happy.
That wasn't what hurt so much though. She'd been telling him she didn't love him in about a hundred different flavors for a long while now. But he'd always tried to keep believing that she really did. Or rather, that she really could, if she would give it a chance.
And that's what really killed him. There at the end, as she said it and he looked into her eyes and saw that she was lying for his sake... he felt a sad acceptance wash over him. That it was true that she didn't love him. And that it was also true that she really could have.
Had things gone different.
"I'm sure that someone could write that up beautifully with this great bloody taste of irony in it somewhere" he muttered to himself.
He thought back. Go different? Where to begin? At the beginning? How much more wrong can you get? They were enemies. The Slayer of Vampires and the Killer of Slayers. He remembered seeing her for the first time. Dancing at the Bronze. So young, so full of life and power, and yet so naïve in so many ways. He'd wanted her even then.
Granted, mostly to rape her before killing her, but he definitely felt an instant tugging of wanting her. Then they danced the dance for a while. She was a beautiful enemy, a source of frustration and defeat. He hated that because he wanted to win all his fights, but at the same time, nothing made life worth living so much as having a fiery Slayer for an opponent that just won't die.
Then the whole mess with Dru leaving him, and getting that chip in his head. Not the greatest period of his existence. Dumped, helpless, pathetic. He'd fought so hard, for so long, not to be pathetic anymore. Never again. Didn't quite work out that way. His most pathetic moments lay ahead of him. When he learned that Dru was right.
Even soulless, his fascination with the Slayer had gone way deeper..until all he knew was how much he longed for her. Sure, his early attempts at showing her he'd changed were just to woo her. But hey, he was soulless! Didn't really know how to be in love with a souled person. Or what to do about it. He made a couple mistakes then. Like chaining her up, showing her he'd kill Dru, threatening to feed her to Dru if she didn't admit some affection for him. God, now that he had a soul, how pathetic and stupid that all seemed. Yeah, surefire way to win her over, mate. And yet at the time it actually had seemed logical. He had been so surprised when he bounced off her de-invited door opening. It had hurt so bad.
But after the Glory thing, she'd changed. She still didn't return his feelings, but she at least believed his were real. It took getting tortured close to death, but hey.. And the whole fight against Glory had been overpowering for everyone. Destruction of the universe, Dawn's possible death... He'd done his best. He'd failed like a damn amateur, but he'd tried. Old coot tossed him off the tower. God it still made him grind his teeth. He'd been so close to saving the day.
But he hadn't. She had. At the cost of her life. Because he'd failed. He hadn't known that pain on that level was possible. Or guilt. You weren't supposed to feel that without a soul were you? And yet...nothing had mattered anymore except making up his failure to her memory and her little sis.
But she'd come back. Oh dear god, the kind of thing you dream of when a loved one has died. The fairy tale kind of impossibility that can't be. And yet, there she'd been. He thought it was the bot at first, but after only a second he knew. He saw her eyes, he smelled her hair, her skin. He thought he'd choke on the emotion.
Of course her resurrection brought it's own complications.
The fact she didn't love him was something he'd almost forgotten. He'd told her before she died. That he knew she didn't love him. But she treated him like a man and that..had meant something. Something a monster shouldn't deserve. It was true and he knew it. Just like when he told Cecily he was a bad poet. He'd never even let himself think it, but when push comes to shove..well, you know what you know. And he hadn't expected to survive the coming battle against Glory anyway so it was easily said.
Okay, not so easily. but it had been said. Of course now that she had been alive and near him again, how was it possible to not want her? But what would he do? What was his role now that she was back?
To his surprise, it was a better one that he'd had before. She came to him. She enjoyed hanging out with him. She even seemed to prefer it to hanging out with her friends. They were all concerned and pushy and he wasn't. He didn't make demands of her that way. She could be careless around him. She'd opened up to him in ways she hadn't to them.
It had felt so good.
TBC