TITLE: The Forgotten Glass
AUTHOR: Bracken
EMAIL: brackenisadore@hotmail.com
RATING: PG
PAIRING: w/s
DISTRIBUTION: I want you to have it but please let me know where it's going.
DISCLAIMER: Yes, I own them all !!! Just kidding. Spike, Willow and co. belong to Joss "I reign supreme" Whedon, Fox TV and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement intended. Don't sue, it's not friendly.
SPOILERS:Spike's neutered and with the Scooby Gang.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The first Willow/Spike kiss and the whiskey glass it revolved around. Please be gentle, it's my first fic!
FEEDBACK: Write me and I'm forever yours, flame me and I'll put you in my next fic!
DEDICATION: To my unwitting friends, who read specs, but have yet to fathom my handle.
*********************************************************
The Forgotten Glass
by
Bracken
One day Angelus left. Then Angel arrived, fully-souled, and left too. And Drusilla, his dark princess, eloped with a fungus-deamon. Harmony tried to stake him. Slaking his detatched woes with Jack Daniels, Spike surmised that he was doomed to remain alone, forever. Which would work just fine with him, if he wasn't such a nancyboy when it came to being alone. Spike loudly cursed "Those bleedin' Initiative pillocks" for neutering him and making him like his "brooding poof of a sire".
Truth was, Spike was lonely. Before, as a mortal, he'd been in a highwayman gang and shared a thieve's sense of camaraderie. Then there was his Angelus, a sire who was often as affectionate as he was demanding. And there was always Dru. Even after all of them, as a master vampire he'd had minions, and human pets, and time-fillers like Harm. Spike was not used to going solo, and now he had to. Day in and day out with a tight group of mortals who mistrusted him too much to let him in. Who hated him too much to care at all. Add to that the fact that he couldn't even feed himself, that all his kind were now turned against him, well, it made for a bloody hard life.
He downed the last of the whiskey and hurled the glass across the Giles' living room. It crashed satisfyingly against the far wall. He was mostly alone, the witch was somewhere around the mansion. As a favour to Giles' she was house-sitting and vampire-sitting. Now the witch, she wasn't so bad. In fact -
"Spike?" Willow's head peeped nervously into the room. "I heard a noise and came to see if . . . oh." She caught sight of the shards of glass, far away from Spike's seemingly innocent perch on the couch. Tiny frown lines marred her forehead as she considered him. "Spike! You broke Giles' glass." she said accusingly, sounding for all the world as though it were a great sin against humankind.
Now Spike had only downed one glass of whiskey, and that had near to no effect on his vampiric metabolism. His mind was running as smoothly as Swiss clockwork. "It wasn't me love." he said, not moving from the couch. "It wasn't?" she asked, innocent voice rather free of sceptecism. It was all he needed.
"Nope. I was sitting here when the Watcher's liquor cabinet began to rattle, then the door swung open, and that glass, the first glass, smashed violently against the wall." Spike was warming to his story, by this stage he could have sold a priest tickets to a ritual sacrifice. He nodded sagely. "I've seen some things in my time, and that was definately paranormal. I think this old place is haunted."
Willow smiled excitedly. "Really, you think? This is a very old house." Her eyes were bright as she considered the possibilty. Spike smothered the urge to smirk. Willow went on. "And you say the glass smashed against the wall?"
"That's right pet, violently."
"Wow, maybe it's a hostile entity!"
The H word darkened Spike's mood. "Yeah," he whispered bitterly under his breath, "Hostile 17."
Unfortunately, Willow overheard the comment and was fooled no longer. "Spike!" came the accusing tone again, "You lied!" She stood before him on the couch, arms crossed, petulantly scowling down at him. Spike looked up, cobalt blue clashed with green. He smirked. She looked more furious, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Oh!" Willow began to stutter, "Y...y...you lied and you enjoyed it! You're laughing at me, you. you. You Vampire!!! Spike clutched his hands over his still heart and grimaced theatrically. "Oh, you cut me to the core, pet!" Spike's impromtu drama was rewarded by a stifled giggle, followed by another and another, and boy, did it make him feel good.
Finally,Willow cleared her throat officially, much like the Ex-Watcher, and Spike had uneasy feeling he was going to be disiplined. Still, disipline could be fun. "You have to clean it up." said Willow, referring to the shattered glass. Spike's smile could only be described as sinful. He looked up at her for a long moment. His legs splayed, his arms spread wide open. "Why don't you come down here and make me?" It wasn't said challengingly, it was a low, whispered suggestion that that came purring forth from the caverns of his already-scintillated mind and body, and even Willow was achingly aware of the connotation.
Spike watched the emotions flit across the redhead's face. Mostly uncertainty as to whether it was just a cruel joke. And hope that it wasn't. It was then that he made his decision. Noting that she was standing within range of his heavy boots, Spike dragged his leg across the floor and literally swept her off her feet. Then leaning forward, he used his cat-like reflexes to catch her when she fell and place her on his lap. Willow squeaked, and her large, silver-green eyes looked to him in confusion.
"But. . ." she protested weakly. Spike was already leaning forward. "Kitten," he sighed against her lips, "forget the damned glass."
And she did.
The End.
03/11/2000
AUTHOR: Bracken
EMAIL: brackenisadore@hotmail.com
RATING: PG
PAIRING: w/s
DISTRIBUTION: I want you to have it but please let me know where it's going.
DISCLAIMER: Yes, I own them all !!! Just kidding. Spike, Willow and co. belong to Joss "I reign supreme" Whedon, Fox TV and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement intended. Don't sue, it's not friendly.
SPOILERS:Spike's neutered and with the Scooby Gang.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The first Willow/Spike kiss and the whiskey glass it revolved around. Please be gentle, it's my first fic!
FEEDBACK: Write me and I'm forever yours, flame me and I'll put you in my next fic!
DEDICATION: To my unwitting friends, who read specs, but have yet to fathom my handle.
*********************************************************
The Forgotten Glass
by
Bracken
One day Angelus left. Then Angel arrived, fully-souled, and left too. And Drusilla, his dark princess, eloped with a fungus-deamon. Harmony tried to stake him. Slaking his detatched woes with Jack Daniels, Spike surmised that he was doomed to remain alone, forever. Which would work just fine with him, if he wasn't such a nancyboy when it came to being alone. Spike loudly cursed "Those bleedin' Initiative pillocks" for neutering him and making him like his "brooding poof of a sire".
Truth was, Spike was lonely. Before, as a mortal, he'd been in a highwayman gang and shared a thieve's sense of camaraderie. Then there was his Angelus, a sire who was often as affectionate as he was demanding. And there was always Dru. Even after all of them, as a master vampire he'd had minions, and human pets, and time-fillers like Harm. Spike was not used to going solo, and now he had to. Day in and day out with a tight group of mortals who mistrusted him too much to let him in. Who hated him too much to care at all. Add to that the fact that he couldn't even feed himself, that all his kind were now turned against him, well, it made for a bloody hard life.
He downed the last of the whiskey and hurled the glass across the Giles' living room. It crashed satisfyingly against the far wall. He was mostly alone, the witch was somewhere around the mansion. As a favour to Giles' she was house-sitting and vampire-sitting. Now the witch, she wasn't so bad. In fact -
"Spike?" Willow's head peeped nervously into the room. "I heard a noise and came to see if . . . oh." She caught sight of the shards of glass, far away from Spike's seemingly innocent perch on the couch. Tiny frown lines marred her forehead as she considered him. "Spike! You broke Giles' glass." she said accusingly, sounding for all the world as though it were a great sin against humankind.
Now Spike had only downed one glass of whiskey, and that had near to no effect on his vampiric metabolism. His mind was running as smoothly as Swiss clockwork. "It wasn't me love." he said, not moving from the couch. "It wasn't?" she asked, innocent voice rather free of sceptecism. It was all he needed.
"Nope. I was sitting here when the Watcher's liquor cabinet began to rattle, then the door swung open, and that glass, the first glass, smashed violently against the wall." Spike was warming to his story, by this stage he could have sold a priest tickets to a ritual sacrifice. He nodded sagely. "I've seen some things in my time, and that was definately paranormal. I think this old place is haunted."
Willow smiled excitedly. "Really, you think? This is a very old house." Her eyes were bright as she considered the possibilty. Spike smothered the urge to smirk. Willow went on. "And you say the glass smashed against the wall?"
"That's right pet, violently."
"Wow, maybe it's a hostile entity!"
The H word darkened Spike's mood. "Yeah," he whispered bitterly under his breath, "Hostile 17."
Unfortunately, Willow overheard the comment and was fooled no longer. "Spike!" came the accusing tone again, "You lied!" She stood before him on the couch, arms crossed, petulantly scowling down at him. Spike looked up, cobalt blue clashed with green. He smirked. She looked more furious, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Oh!" Willow began to stutter, "Y...y...you lied and you enjoyed it! You're laughing at me, you. you. You Vampire!!! Spike clutched his hands over his still heart and grimaced theatrically. "Oh, you cut me to the core, pet!" Spike's impromtu drama was rewarded by a stifled giggle, followed by another and another, and boy, did it make him feel good.
Finally,Willow cleared her throat officially, much like the Ex-Watcher, and Spike had uneasy feeling he was going to be disiplined. Still, disipline could be fun. "You have to clean it up." said Willow, referring to the shattered glass. Spike's smile could only be described as sinful. He looked up at her for a long moment. His legs splayed, his arms spread wide open. "Why don't you come down here and make me?" It wasn't said challengingly, it was a low, whispered suggestion that that came purring forth from the caverns of his already-scintillated mind and body, and even Willow was achingly aware of the connotation.
Spike watched the emotions flit across the redhead's face. Mostly uncertainty as to whether it was just a cruel joke. And hope that it wasn't. It was then that he made his decision. Noting that she was standing within range of his heavy boots, Spike dragged his leg across the floor and literally swept her off her feet. Then leaning forward, he used his cat-like reflexes to catch her when she fell and place her on his lap. Willow squeaked, and her large, silver-green eyes looked to him in confusion.
"But. . ." she protested weakly. Spike was already leaning forward. "Kitten," he sighed against her lips, "forget the damned glass."
And she did.
The End.
03/11/2000