Before It's Due.
Title:- See above
Rating:- PG
Distribution:- see, like, have, ask first.
Ownership:- The Almightly Whedon is patron God of Sunnyhell.
Feedback:- please?
William the Bloody, in all his chipless, merciless, bloodthirsty glory, sat on the ground in Sunnyhell cemetary. He gazed with a hint of sorrow at the black headstone beside him. He sat slightly to the right of it. Had it been anyone else's grave he'd be sitting on it. Not this one. The vampire held a respectful silence, stake in hand.
If he could he'd have sighed deeply, but breathing wasn't an option. He twirled the stake in his hands, trying to kill time. Again he let his eyes focus on the headstone. It was quite pretty really, as tombstones go. It suited it's occupant. Getting impatient, Spike lay down. Why the hell was he here? The Slayer. She'd asked him to do this one thing for her. One thing. No problemo. This was taking too long, he didn't have all night. Why'd he bothered to help the Buffster in the first place? It could have been the stake she held...or the cross in her pocket. No it was the look on her face, he'd seen that look before. About two minutes before he'd agreed to do this. The remainder of the Scoobies had looked at him that way. Tucking the stake in his belt, Spike ran his hand over the all to familiar words.
~~Willow Rosenburg~~
He liked this headstone. Not because of who it happened to belong to, because it stood out. It revealed the true nature of Sunnyhell, well, to those who could translate vampiric anyway. He gazed at the words he remembered all too well. Xander had said this on several occasions. Usually before he went to a not-so-certain death.
"They say young people don't learn anything in high school nowadays, but I've learnt to be afraid."
The most sensible thing anybody could learn in life, thought Spike. Now he realised why he'd given in to Buffy's request. No-one else'd had the heart to do this. They knew her for so long. Too long to say goodbye this way. He sat up on his heels and smiled sadly. This shouldn't have happened to her. Buffy, he could live without. Xander was just a poof. Anya, well she's ....Anya. Giles was an annoying bookworm and Riley was Action Man. Willow was *good*, she hadn't deserved to die like this. His thoughts drifted back to memories of her psychotic doppleganger. Leather. Dismissing the many pleasing images that passed through his mind, he focussed his attention on Will's good points. Well, for starters, she ionised the air...or something...while they tried to get that homing device out of his shoulder. She had made a good agony aunt too when he couldn't bite her. She'd even offered to wait half an hour then try again. Courage. Willow had had spirit, faith and sincerity. She was a *good* person and there aren't many of those in the world, thought Spike.
On that last thought, Willow burst from her grave, game face on. With a couple of quick manouveres, she was in the big ashtray in the sky.
Spike grinned and walked off triumphantly. After all, it wasn't every day he got to kill a Slayerette.
Title:- See above
Rating:- PG
Distribution:- see, like, have, ask first.
Ownership:- The Almightly Whedon is patron God of Sunnyhell.
Feedback:- please?
William the Bloody, in all his chipless, merciless, bloodthirsty glory, sat on the ground in Sunnyhell cemetary. He gazed with a hint of sorrow at the black headstone beside him. He sat slightly to the right of it. Had it been anyone else's grave he'd be sitting on it. Not this one. The vampire held a respectful silence, stake in hand.
If he could he'd have sighed deeply, but breathing wasn't an option. He twirled the stake in his hands, trying to kill time. Again he let his eyes focus on the headstone. It was quite pretty really, as tombstones go. It suited it's occupant. Getting impatient, Spike lay down. Why the hell was he here? The Slayer. She'd asked him to do this one thing for her. One thing. No problemo. This was taking too long, he didn't have all night. Why'd he bothered to help the Buffster in the first place? It could have been the stake she held...or the cross in her pocket. No it was the look on her face, he'd seen that look before. About two minutes before he'd agreed to do this. The remainder of the Scoobies had looked at him that way. Tucking the stake in his belt, Spike ran his hand over the all to familiar words.
~~Willow Rosenburg~~
He liked this headstone. Not because of who it happened to belong to, because it stood out. It revealed the true nature of Sunnyhell, well, to those who could translate vampiric anyway. He gazed at the words he remembered all too well. Xander had said this on several occasions. Usually before he went to a not-so-certain death.
"They say young people don't learn anything in high school nowadays, but I've learnt to be afraid."
The most sensible thing anybody could learn in life, thought Spike. Now he realised why he'd given in to Buffy's request. No-one else'd had the heart to do this. They knew her for so long. Too long to say goodbye this way. He sat up on his heels and smiled sadly. This shouldn't have happened to her. Buffy, he could live without. Xander was just a poof. Anya, well she's ....Anya. Giles was an annoying bookworm and Riley was Action Man. Willow was *good*, she hadn't deserved to die like this. His thoughts drifted back to memories of her psychotic doppleganger. Leather. Dismissing the many pleasing images that passed through his mind, he focussed his attention on Will's good points. Well, for starters, she ionised the air...or something...while they tried to get that homing device out of his shoulder. She had made a good agony aunt too when he couldn't bite her. She'd even offered to wait half an hour then try again. Courage. Willow had had spirit, faith and sincerity. She was a *good* person and there aren't many of those in the world, thought Spike.
On that last thought, Willow burst from her grave, game face on. With a couple of quick manouveres, she was in the big ashtray in the sky.
Spike grinned and walked off triumphantly. After all, it wasn't every day he got to kill a Slayerette.