Title: Signs (or The Scenic Route to Love)
Author: SpikesPet
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: R
E-mail: spikes_pet@ameritech.net
Disclaimers: You know the drill…don't own it, not making any money off it.
Distribution: Sure, just let me know.
Author's note: Thanks to my faithful betas: Mezzibelle & Wisconsin Square
Author's note2: This one is for Mezz…without you're support and never-ending
patience this would have ended up in my recycling bin.
*************************************************************
I push my way past the hoards of hormone-ridden teens into The Bronze and begin my
nightly ritual. It's not that I wanted to be here; I had more than enough stock at the crypt
to get me pissed. Part of me wanted to stay home, catch up on the telly instead. But, I
can't stay away…no matter how hard I try. Just the chance to see her draws me every
bleeding night...even if she won't speak to me.
I grab a beer at the bar and saunter over to the steps leading to the catwalk. Not wanting
to draw attention to myself or spill my beer, I take my time going up. I go to the same
place every night. I guess I'm a bit attached to it, probably because of the
memories…Buffy and I, not so long ago. Best not to relive that particular memory
now…maybe later, when I get home.
Once in my usual spot among the shadows, I scan the crowd in search of her. Not on the
dance floor…though I haven't seen her there in ages. It's sad really, I used to love to
watch her…the way her hips swayed…those were happier times.
So many people here tonight…maybe I won't find her. Maybe she won't show. I pull
out a fag to quell the nerves. No, she'll show. She has every night since that tosser,
Riley, barged in on us. Fuckin' white bread…buggered the whole thing up, he did. I was
so close…she was almost mine. Really mine, not like before. She was so close to giving
me her heart as well as her body. But he just had to charge in, uninvited.
I glance at my hands and noticed I've gripped the railing so tight it's bent. I let go and
looked to see if anyone noticed. Alone. I casually walk to a new spot leaving the
evidence of my anger behind.
I see a small blonde sitting at the bar with her back to me. Is it…yes, it's her. I can
almost feel the pain from her slumped form. Why is it that I can see her unhappiness, but
her so-called friends remain oblivious? Or is the denial just easier for the lot of them?
Some day I hope to ask them. Doubt I ever will. I can feel the anger bubbling with in
me. I force it back with to room with the pain of their rejection and thousands of other
unnecessary feelings. I sharpen my focus to the object of my desire, my love.
Staring at her back, I can see the stress and tension built up in her muscles. If she'd let
me, I could fix that. Nice massage with some scented oil…maybe sandalwood…no
maybe a bit of cinnamon oil. Yeah, that might even get her in the mood to…better not
finish that thought. Add that to my list of things to think about later.
I should go talk to her…or at least try. Maybe I could just bump into her. She'd never go
for it…start yelling about me stalking and lurking. Best wait, like I always do…wait for
a sign. Some sign that she's ready to let me love her. Or that she misses me. Some sign
of hope.
I watch her get up and walk towards the dance floor. She looks like she's searching for
someone. I wished it were me. Bloody wanker…not me…it'll never be me. Told me
that, didn't she?
There's no band tonight…just some bloke behind a counter. I watch Buffy talk to him. I
wonder if she knows him or if she's asking him out. No…I can tell she's not interested
in him…body language and all that. I still let out a sigh of relief when she walks away.
The music's not too bad tonight—at least it's not that boy band, bubble gum, pop shit.
Still, it all makes me long for a little God Save the Queen or Anarchy in the UK…now
that was music.
Bugger! She's coming up here. I dart further into the shadows. She's liable to sense me
sooner or later. Not sure if that is a good thing or not. Don't wanna end up with
something pointy and wooden in my chest.
Maybe she is looking for me. I stand motionless watching her come up the steps. She's
stopped at the railing, running her hand over the part I damaged earlier. Can she tell I'm
here? Does she care? Is that what she wants?
I realize she is standing in our spot. I wonder if she knows…if she remembers how it felt
when…never mind. Later…think about it later.
She's holding onto the bent rail, gently swaying in time with the music. She must like
this song. I've never heard it before so I listen to the words.
"And you
Bring me to my knees
Again
All the times
That I could beg you please
In vain
All the times
That I felt insecure
For you
But I leave
My burdens at the door"
Not a bad tune. The guy has a very strong voice.
"But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you"
Sounds familiar. Told her something like that once. Wonder if she remembers…
"All the times
That I felt like this won't end
Was for you
And I taste
What I could never have
It's from you
All the times
That I've tried
My intentions
Full of pride
But I waste
More time than anyone"
Exactly…this guy gets it. Did write about me? Wasting time… all I ever do. Maybe I'm
not the only love's bitch…
"But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you
All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be okay
But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you"
I feel myself smile as the song ends. I know now. She requested that song. I know why
she's up here…in our spot. She senses me. I realize this is the sign.
*****************************************************************
Fin.
Author: SpikesPet
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: R
E-mail: spikes_pet@ameritech.net
Disclaimers: You know the drill…don't own it, not making any money off it.
Distribution: Sure, just let me know.
Author's note: Thanks to my faithful betas: Mezzibelle & Wisconsin Square
Author's note2: This one is for Mezz…without you're support and never-ending
patience this would have ended up in my recycling bin.
*************************************************************
I push my way past the hoards of hormone-ridden teens into The Bronze and begin my
nightly ritual. It's not that I wanted to be here; I had more than enough stock at the crypt
to get me pissed. Part of me wanted to stay home, catch up on the telly instead. But, I
can't stay away…no matter how hard I try. Just the chance to see her draws me every
bleeding night...even if she won't speak to me.
I grab a beer at the bar and saunter over to the steps leading to the catwalk. Not wanting
to draw attention to myself or spill my beer, I take my time going up. I go to the same
place every night. I guess I'm a bit attached to it, probably because of the
memories…Buffy and I, not so long ago. Best not to relive that particular memory
now…maybe later, when I get home.
Once in my usual spot among the shadows, I scan the crowd in search of her. Not on the
dance floor…though I haven't seen her there in ages. It's sad really, I used to love to
watch her…the way her hips swayed…those were happier times.
So many people here tonight…maybe I won't find her. Maybe she won't show. I pull
out a fag to quell the nerves. No, she'll show. She has every night since that tosser,
Riley, barged in on us. Fuckin' white bread…buggered the whole thing up, he did. I was
so close…she was almost mine. Really mine, not like before. She was so close to giving
me her heart as well as her body. But he just had to charge in, uninvited.
I glance at my hands and noticed I've gripped the railing so tight it's bent. I let go and
looked to see if anyone noticed. Alone. I casually walk to a new spot leaving the
evidence of my anger behind.
I see a small blonde sitting at the bar with her back to me. Is it…yes, it's her. I can
almost feel the pain from her slumped form. Why is it that I can see her unhappiness, but
her so-called friends remain oblivious? Or is the denial just easier for the lot of them?
Some day I hope to ask them. Doubt I ever will. I can feel the anger bubbling with in
me. I force it back with to room with the pain of their rejection and thousands of other
unnecessary feelings. I sharpen my focus to the object of my desire, my love.
Staring at her back, I can see the stress and tension built up in her muscles. If she'd let
me, I could fix that. Nice massage with some scented oil…maybe sandalwood…no
maybe a bit of cinnamon oil. Yeah, that might even get her in the mood to…better not
finish that thought. Add that to my list of things to think about later.
I should go talk to her…or at least try. Maybe I could just bump into her. She'd never go
for it…start yelling about me stalking and lurking. Best wait, like I always do…wait for
a sign. Some sign that she's ready to let me love her. Or that she misses me. Some sign
of hope.
I watch her get up and walk towards the dance floor. She looks like she's searching for
someone. I wished it were me. Bloody wanker…not me…it'll never be me. Told me
that, didn't she?
There's no band tonight…just some bloke behind a counter. I watch Buffy talk to him. I
wonder if she knows him or if she's asking him out. No…I can tell she's not interested
in him…body language and all that. I still let out a sigh of relief when she walks away.
The music's not too bad tonight—at least it's not that boy band, bubble gum, pop shit.
Still, it all makes me long for a little God Save the Queen or Anarchy in the UK…now
that was music.
Bugger! She's coming up here. I dart further into the shadows. She's liable to sense me
sooner or later. Not sure if that is a good thing or not. Don't wanna end up with
something pointy and wooden in my chest.
Maybe she is looking for me. I stand motionless watching her come up the steps. She's
stopped at the railing, running her hand over the part I damaged earlier. Can she tell I'm
here? Does she care? Is that what she wants?
I realize she is standing in our spot. I wonder if she knows…if she remembers how it felt
when…never mind. Later…think about it later.
She's holding onto the bent rail, gently swaying in time with the music. She must like
this song. I've never heard it before so I listen to the words.
"And you
Bring me to my knees
Again
All the times
That I could beg you please
In vain
All the times
That I felt insecure
For you
But I leave
My burdens at the door"
Not a bad tune. The guy has a very strong voice.
"But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you"
Sounds familiar. Told her something like that once. Wonder if she remembers…
"All the times
That I felt like this won't end
Was for you
And I taste
What I could never have
It's from you
All the times
That I've tried
My intentions
Full of pride
But I waste
More time than anyone"
Exactly…this guy gets it. Did write about me? Wasting time… all I ever do. Maybe I'm
not the only love's bitch…
"But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you
All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be okay
But I'm on the outside
And I'm looking in
I can see through you
See your true colors
'Cause inside you're ugly
You're ugly like me
I can see through you
See to the real you"
I feel myself smile as the song ends. I know now. She requested that song. I know why
she's up here…in our spot. She senses me. I realize this is the sign.
*****************************************************************
Fin.