A Matter of Love and Death
by Tycho
Contact: tychocelchu@optusnet.com.au
Summary: Mid seasons 5 and 2 (Angel), Spike makes some decisions that will change everyone's lives. S/B, A/C
Disclaimer: Whedon owns all.
"What are you doing here? Out walking again? Five words or less, and no swearing this time." Buffy was not in the mood for Spike's antics this night.
Said vampire took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled it slowly, considering the words that would follow. "Making a decision. Made it."
The Slayer crossed her arms impatiently. Everything Spike did or said seemed to inspire her to violence, or at least irritation. "And what would that be?"
"I'm leavin'." At her puzzled expression, he explained further. "I'm leavin' Sunnyhell. I can't be here anymore. Figured I'd go to LA and give ol' Dad a hand. Somethin's been feelin' off in that direction, lately, but I'm not sure what." Buffy sensed that that was just an excuse to cover up his true reasons for going, and told him as much. "The truth, luv? I hate to misquote from a good movie, but I don't think you could handle the truth. Not while I'm within striking range anyway."
He pulled an envelope out of his duster and handed it to her. Her name was written across the front in elegant script, totally unlike the image the author projected. His final words to her that night were: "You need me, for anything at all. You know how to reach me." A sad smile ghosted his lips. "Even if you do only want to yell at me. But no hitting, K? G'bye, Buffy."
Completely confused by his behavior, Buffy could only stare at him as he walked away. Then she shook her head, turning her mind to more important matters.
Her mom was going to be alright.
by Tycho
Contact: tychocelchu@optusnet.com.au
Summary: Mid seasons 5 and 2 (Angel), Spike makes some decisions that will change everyone's lives. S/B, A/C
Disclaimer: Whedon owns all.
"What are you doing here? Out walking again? Five words or less, and no swearing this time." Buffy was not in the mood for Spike's antics this night.
Said vampire took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled it slowly, considering the words that would follow. "Making a decision. Made it."
The Slayer crossed her arms impatiently. Everything Spike did or said seemed to inspire her to violence, or at least irritation. "And what would that be?"
"I'm leavin'." At her puzzled expression, he explained further. "I'm leavin' Sunnyhell. I can't be here anymore. Figured I'd go to LA and give ol' Dad a hand. Somethin's been feelin' off in that direction, lately, but I'm not sure what." Buffy sensed that that was just an excuse to cover up his true reasons for going, and told him as much. "The truth, luv? I hate to misquote from a good movie, but I don't think you could handle the truth. Not while I'm within striking range anyway."
He pulled an envelope out of his duster and handed it to her. Her name was written across the front in elegant script, totally unlike the image the author projected. His final words to her that night were: "You need me, for anything at all. You know how to reach me." A sad smile ghosted his lips. "Even if you do only want to yell at me. But no hitting, K? G'bye, Buffy."
Completely confused by his behavior, Buffy could only stare at him as he walked away. Then she shook her head, turning her mind to more important matters.
Her mom was going to be alright.