Title: Mr. Teddy
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own ideas. Please don't sue and don't commit plagiarism…
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive- I just want to know where it's going.
Summery: This is really more focused on Spike and Buffy's so-called relationship…
Feedback: Has anyone ever said they *don't* want feedback? Email me at capnnemo_and_rubberducky@yahoo.com. Thankies!
Buffy and Willow had spent the rest of the day together. After a quick visit to pharmacy they headed over to Anya's house. She had gotten sick- a mere cold, but sick nonetheless. They could smell the vaporizers as soon as they walk into her room.
Sitting on the one side of the bed, Willow on the other, Buffy said, "Anya, hey. Still not feeling any better?" At the shake of Anya's head, she placed a hand on her forehead and kept it there a few seconds. She watched as Willow reached for the thermometer and placed it in Anya's ear.
Willow waited until it make the clinking sound and held it up to find temp. to be 103. "Well Demon, you're fever's a little high- 102. But I think you should be alright as long we keep an eye out on you." she explained, using the nickname 'Demon' to cheer her up. It had been somewhat of *thing* between the two. Sure they hadn't gotten along at first like the best of friends- but hey, that's in the past.
"Well Witch, I haven't a doubt that I'll be getting better soon with nurses like you and the Slayer." replied the raspy voice of Anya- raspy due to the cold. All at once they began to giggle. It feels just like the olden day- Willow thought bitterly. They hadn't had so many of those good times lately…
"Alrighty then, I have to go catch up with my shopping," Buffy said with a wink, "But I'll come by and check on you later- or I'll call." she continued while walking quickly out of the room, down the stairs, and out the house- all the while ignoring the weird looks from her friends. Once outside she heard exactly what she wanted to hear--
"Well, what've we got here. A slayer unprotected I assume?" came that sexy British accent from behind her. She could almost hear the smirk that is most likely gracing his face just from his voice. Turning around she looked him up and down. "Don't bother sizing ME up slayer, we all know that it's quite a trip…"
Rolling her eyes she walked up to him and pushed him over to the side of the house. Luckily for her there were no windows on this side. And it was much to dark anyhow for anyone to see them but themselves- not that needed too. All they needed was touch…
Buffy waits for him to do something- he usually has her on the floor by now! And what's different? He doesn't smell the same. Yeah, she smells him- it's normal! But back to the important thing… she had some needs and he's there to fill them so…why isn't he filling them! Pouting, she went up on her toes to kiss him only to be stopped by his strong hands on her shoulders. She finally started to notice the way he was looking at her. What was it? Regret? Repulsion? Whatever it was, she didn't like it.
He slowly pushed her away from him and leaned against the house. Reaching into his duster pocket he pulled out a pamphlet. He handed it to her stood in silence, waiting patiently for her to understand. This is it bro, he thought, this is where you take a stand. He watched closely as the slayer looked down at the papers in her hands.
She couldn't believe what she saw, it was a pamphlet to stop smoking. Looking up at him with furrowed brows she questioned, "Um, Spike. I don't smoke. You smoke, if anyone needs this you…" Realizing what was in her hands and who gave it to her she finally realized what it meant. And why he smelled different. "You stopped smoking?" At the nod of his head she continued, "Wow, when did this happen? I was wondering why you smelled different." Expecting some crude remark about her smelling him she fished in her head to find a good retort. But there didn't seem to be a need. He was still staring at her just as before. With that misplaced emotion swaying in his eyes. What was going on? She didn't care if he smoked or not- it couldn't kill him or anything, so why was he showing her this?
He could tell she was confused. She was looking at him as if he were one of the newspaper crosswords that many people often find enjoyable, reading and solving it while in their restrooms, trying to figure out that certain word that would lead them home, make a path for them to follow so they can come bounding out and announce with a grin that would make the Joker jealous, "I have solved the puzzle! Me oh my. On my own!" But it wasn't as hard as she seemed to think it was. Quite simple actually. For him at least.
"It's change Slayer. People change all the time. Demons change too. And that's what I'm doing. I'm changing, for the better. Not the kind your thinking though, don't mistake me for a white hat. Never. Because it doesn't matter how many little scraps of metal in my head, I'll always be Spike. I'll always change. And I'll always want more. I want out. I played this little game of dirty secrets with you and I don't like it."
What was he asking? Did he want her to tell her friends and family? She couldn't do that! Tara knows and that's already too many! "What are trying to say? Huh? Want me to post a giant billboard that claims I'm screwing with the un-dead… still?!" She looked around nervously as her eyes began to fill with tears. No way was she going to let him see her cry, not over this. Closing her eyes she tried to will them back. It somewhat worked because when she opened her eyes again things weren't as blurry. She searched him for answers, for truth. But all she found was that look in his eyes. That cold, stubborn look that she knew would make her cry in the middle of the night, whilst she lay in her bed and analyzed her life. She'd see him staring at her just like this, just like now and she would cry to herself softly so as not to wake anyone. Because what would they think of her? What would they think of the Slayer, the Chosen One, sleeping with her enemies? The ones that she was supposed to rid the world of when instead she was giving them happy's and getting them in return?!
Repressing a growl at her ignorance, he explained, "No Buffy. In fact, I want the exact opposite. I want you to walk away from here tonight and go home. I want you to stay out of my un-life. I want you to stop using me when I don't want to be used. I've tried to keep you running because even though I'm evil- I know that this world needs a slayer. It needs one to be balanced- it always has. And seeing as how Faith's in jail and Kendra's dead- you're going to have to make do. Your not that bad actually, in fact- you used to be a great slayer. But then you tired. You weakened and wished it all away. You're on earth, not heaven. Boo-hoo. You need to deal with that. I'm telling you this because people need you. People need someone on their side that will protect them when they fall. Because they would do that for you. They have been doing that for you- just as I have. Just like this, but it's time you get back on your own feet. Learn the ropes of slaying all over again and get back in gear. Because people all falling. And your not covering their backs."
Buffy stood, staring at him with astonishment. She wanted to repent- tell him that everything he just said was a lie. That she has been protecting the best she can. But she couldn't… because he was right. Closing her mouth that she realized was wide open and gaping at him, she turned. She walked about two yards before turning back to him and saying softly, "Thank you. But I… thanks…" She couldn't continue. What was there to say? She was defeated. And she had been for a while now. And now she needed to stand up. She had to do exactly what he just told her. Because people were dying… and she needed to shelter them when they fall…
A/N: What'd ya think? I wanted to get down and deep *eg* and this is what my mind produced. I crave reviews! Please! Tell me what I need to do!
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own ideas. Please don't sue and don't commit plagiarism…
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive- I just want to know where it's going.
Summery: This is really more focused on Spike and Buffy's so-called relationship…
Feedback: Has anyone ever said they *don't* want feedback? Email me at capnnemo_and_rubberducky@yahoo.com. Thankies!
Buffy and Willow had spent the rest of the day together. After a quick visit to pharmacy they headed over to Anya's house. She had gotten sick- a mere cold, but sick nonetheless. They could smell the vaporizers as soon as they walk into her room.
Sitting on the one side of the bed, Willow on the other, Buffy said, "Anya, hey. Still not feeling any better?" At the shake of Anya's head, she placed a hand on her forehead and kept it there a few seconds. She watched as Willow reached for the thermometer and placed it in Anya's ear.
Willow waited until it make the clinking sound and held it up to find temp. to be 103. "Well Demon, you're fever's a little high- 102. But I think you should be alright as long we keep an eye out on you." she explained, using the nickname 'Demon' to cheer her up. It had been somewhat of *thing* between the two. Sure they hadn't gotten along at first like the best of friends- but hey, that's in the past.
"Well Witch, I haven't a doubt that I'll be getting better soon with nurses like you and the Slayer." replied the raspy voice of Anya- raspy due to the cold. All at once they began to giggle. It feels just like the olden day- Willow thought bitterly. They hadn't had so many of those good times lately…
"Alrighty then, I have to go catch up with my shopping," Buffy said with a wink, "But I'll come by and check on you later- or I'll call." she continued while walking quickly out of the room, down the stairs, and out the house- all the while ignoring the weird looks from her friends. Once outside she heard exactly what she wanted to hear--
"Well, what've we got here. A slayer unprotected I assume?" came that sexy British accent from behind her. She could almost hear the smirk that is most likely gracing his face just from his voice. Turning around she looked him up and down. "Don't bother sizing ME up slayer, we all know that it's quite a trip…"
Rolling her eyes she walked up to him and pushed him over to the side of the house. Luckily for her there were no windows on this side. And it was much to dark anyhow for anyone to see them but themselves- not that needed too. All they needed was touch…
Buffy waits for him to do something- he usually has her on the floor by now! And what's different? He doesn't smell the same. Yeah, she smells him- it's normal! But back to the important thing… she had some needs and he's there to fill them so…why isn't he filling them! Pouting, she went up on her toes to kiss him only to be stopped by his strong hands on her shoulders. She finally started to notice the way he was looking at her. What was it? Regret? Repulsion? Whatever it was, she didn't like it.
He slowly pushed her away from him and leaned against the house. Reaching into his duster pocket he pulled out a pamphlet. He handed it to her stood in silence, waiting patiently for her to understand. This is it bro, he thought, this is where you take a stand. He watched closely as the slayer looked down at the papers in her hands.
She couldn't believe what she saw, it was a pamphlet to stop smoking. Looking up at him with furrowed brows she questioned, "Um, Spike. I don't smoke. You smoke, if anyone needs this you…" Realizing what was in her hands and who gave it to her she finally realized what it meant. And why he smelled different. "You stopped smoking?" At the nod of his head she continued, "Wow, when did this happen? I was wondering why you smelled different." Expecting some crude remark about her smelling him she fished in her head to find a good retort. But there didn't seem to be a need. He was still staring at her just as before. With that misplaced emotion swaying in his eyes. What was going on? She didn't care if he smoked or not- it couldn't kill him or anything, so why was he showing her this?
He could tell she was confused. She was looking at him as if he were one of the newspaper crosswords that many people often find enjoyable, reading and solving it while in their restrooms, trying to figure out that certain word that would lead them home, make a path for them to follow so they can come bounding out and announce with a grin that would make the Joker jealous, "I have solved the puzzle! Me oh my. On my own!" But it wasn't as hard as she seemed to think it was. Quite simple actually. For him at least.
"It's change Slayer. People change all the time. Demons change too. And that's what I'm doing. I'm changing, for the better. Not the kind your thinking though, don't mistake me for a white hat. Never. Because it doesn't matter how many little scraps of metal in my head, I'll always be Spike. I'll always change. And I'll always want more. I want out. I played this little game of dirty secrets with you and I don't like it."
What was he asking? Did he want her to tell her friends and family? She couldn't do that! Tara knows and that's already too many! "What are trying to say? Huh? Want me to post a giant billboard that claims I'm screwing with the un-dead… still?!" She looked around nervously as her eyes began to fill with tears. No way was she going to let him see her cry, not over this. Closing her eyes she tried to will them back. It somewhat worked because when she opened her eyes again things weren't as blurry. She searched him for answers, for truth. But all she found was that look in his eyes. That cold, stubborn look that she knew would make her cry in the middle of the night, whilst she lay in her bed and analyzed her life. She'd see him staring at her just like this, just like now and she would cry to herself softly so as not to wake anyone. Because what would they think of her? What would they think of the Slayer, the Chosen One, sleeping with her enemies? The ones that she was supposed to rid the world of when instead she was giving them happy's and getting them in return?!
Repressing a growl at her ignorance, he explained, "No Buffy. In fact, I want the exact opposite. I want you to walk away from here tonight and go home. I want you to stay out of my un-life. I want you to stop using me when I don't want to be used. I've tried to keep you running because even though I'm evil- I know that this world needs a slayer. It needs one to be balanced- it always has. And seeing as how Faith's in jail and Kendra's dead- you're going to have to make do. Your not that bad actually, in fact- you used to be a great slayer. But then you tired. You weakened and wished it all away. You're on earth, not heaven. Boo-hoo. You need to deal with that. I'm telling you this because people need you. People need someone on their side that will protect them when they fall. Because they would do that for you. They have been doing that for you- just as I have. Just like this, but it's time you get back on your own feet. Learn the ropes of slaying all over again and get back in gear. Because people all falling. And your not covering their backs."
Buffy stood, staring at him with astonishment. She wanted to repent- tell him that everything he just said was a lie. That she has been protecting the best she can. But she couldn't… because he was right. Closing her mouth that she realized was wide open and gaping at him, she turned. She walked about two yards before turning back to him and saying softly, "Thank you. But I… thanks…" She couldn't continue. What was there to say? She was defeated. And she had been for a while now. And now she needed to stand up. She had to do exactly what he just told her. Because people were dying… and she needed to shelter them when they fall…
A/N: What'd ya think? I wanted to get down and deep *eg* and this is what my mind produced. I crave reviews! Please! Tell me what I need to do!