1 Title: Staking Lessons
2
3 Part: 1 / 4
4 Author: RedSpark
Email: red_spark@hotmail.com
5
6 Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it's all theirs (JW, ME, and company)
7 Summary: Following another "incident" Buffy decides to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth, and enlists the help of Spike.
Rating: R for the whole series, PG-13 for this part
Spoilers: Season Six up to As You Were and probably Hell's Bells later on
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Staking Lessons, Chapter 1: Going Through the Motions
Background: This is set in Season 6, post-As You Were but with a slightly bent timeline.
The wedding is still a few weeks off. The Spuffy is not occurring, but I am a B/Ser so you have been warned (
Oh, and anything enclosed in "*" is a thought. For example, *thought*
* * * * *
-Flashback ("Once More With Feeling")-
"Have you talked with Dawn about that incident at Halloween?"
Buffy looked at Giles in mild surprise. "No, I thought you took care of it." She walked over to the beam to do some stretches. "What would I do without you, Giles?" She pulled out her hamstring and calves, then turned to face her watcher. "Ok, I'm ready."
* * * * *
-A few months later…-
"Hey Dawn?"
The teen looked up warily. She was in the middle of doing math homework, and normally she'd welcome any interruption, but the look on Buffy's face made her think twice.
"Yeah?"
"Can we talk? Downstairs?"
"Sure." She sighed and stood up, trailing her sister to the living room and the big family conference couch.
Buffy looked at her, unsure how to start. "I need to talk with you, about the, uh, incident at the Bronze."
Dawn sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. "So what about it? Trying to repress here, if you don't mind."
"Well, it's not exactly the first time something like that has happened." Buffy looked at her fixedly. "That other incident at Halloween…"
The girl ground her teeth together. "It's not my fault. It's not like I didn't know them. Maybe," and she glared with all the righteous-teen- anger, "If someone was doing their job better, this wouldn't be happening." She saw her sister cringe at the somewhat-true accusation. It wasn't fair, she knew, but she was still wigged from what had happened….
*
-Flashback to earlier that night-
The extended Scooby Gang was at the Bronze. Xander and Anya were in full pre-Wedding panic mode, devouring a bowl of bar pretzels. Willow was talking happily about some –ology class, and Buffy was doing the lean-on- the-table, semi-interested look as she tried not to sweep the room, looking for a certain blond head.
Dawn spotted Janice stroll in, escorted by several cute guys that looked vaguely familiar. She hopped off her stool and headed over.
Several songs later, Buffy looked out on the dance floor and saw her younger sister dancing closely with a tall redhead.
The slow song ended and Dawn smiled up at the guy, trying hard to remember what Janice had said his name was. He was one of the stars on the basketball team. He took her hand and led her off the dance floor, towards a dark corner. He asked her something about wanting a drink, laughed and vamped out, and knocked her viciously backwards into the shadows. When she regained consciousness, her sister was looming over her, stake still in hand.
*
"You need to be careful, Dawnie. Some guys aren't what they seem- literal or figuratively." The two sat there for a minute, lost in separate memories.
"Well, you have to admit this was better then _last_ time," the teen pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood.
Buffy laughed softly. "God, if mom had ever caught me parking…I would have been Ms. goes-to-bed-at-nine for the next two years. I'm not very good at dealing out mom punishments, though, so I have a different idea." The mischievous glint in her sister's eye caught Dawn off-guard. "For the next four weeks, you are grounded after school. No going over to friends' houses, without my permission. Instead, you're going to come straight to the Magic Box. And I am going to teach you how to stake a vamp properly."
* * * * *
-Week 1-
-Monday-
The bell in the Magic Shop rang as Dawn ran in after school. She shouted a quick hello to the Scoobies and bounced to the back to put her bag away. At the doors to the training room she paused, hearing a raging argument inside.
"-cute idea. And next week, we can teach her how to patrol so she can go be Little Slayer Sidekick."
"Look Spike, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we DO live on a Hellmouth. Vampire slaying should be, like, a home ec class. AND, it's pretty obvious that attraction to vampires seems to be in the Summers' blood. So, better safe than sorry."
"Oh, I'm all for safe, luv. Which is why I don't understand why *I* should be the one to teach 'er. Call bloody Rupert, tell 'im you've got a new candidate or some rot. I'm sure an unemployed ex-librarian would jump at such an offer."
Buffy shoved him, hard. "I am NOT calling Giles. I can take care of this on my own."
"Right, pet." Spike came right up to her face. "That's why you're practically begging for my help."
"I am NOT begging."
"Is that so?" He tilted his head inquisitively, then smirked. "I could make you, you know."
"What?"
"Beg."
Buffy rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to shove him, falling back instead on her verbal arsenal. "Spike, you're a pig."
"Please, Slayer, sing me a new one." He rolled his eyes in return.
She bit back a scathing comment and the room lapsed into uncomfortable silence, for a moment at least. Both were a little rusty at playing the old slayer-evil fiend act, although the past week had shown that UST could be a blessing in that regard. Heat. Desire. When contained, they only tended to fester and emerge in other, not so pleasant ways.
Buffy looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she opened the weapons chest. The avoidance method had worked out well, for the few hours she didn't need his help. But somehow, something always came up. *And usually related to Dawn* she growled to herself. At least this time, he hadn't thrown it back in her face when she'd asked. Not at the time. Now, however, she was thinking he had just been saving up for today.
*Pissing a Slayer off in a room with lots of sharp, point weapons. Not getting any brighter, is he?*
"Any time you'd like to come back to bloody earth, Mulder? Don't have all night to stand around contemplating the ceiling, 'least while I'm still sober and standing."
*But definitely getting more obnoxious. And you thought it wasn't possible*
She looked around at him, standing there with an unreadable expression. "Spi-"
"Let's just get on with it then. Nibblet!" He could hear the girl just beyond the door, filled with trepidation at what was going on in the room. At his call, though, she bravely came through the door, feigning innocence and complete ignorance of the argument.
"I'm ready." She stood there in black adidas pants and a t-shirt, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Spike looked to Buffy for guidance.
"Ah…ok, so first we're going to learn a few self defense moves."
Buffy ran her sister through different types of kicks and punches, and had her do several repetitions. After the umpteenth roundhouse, Dawn complained that she must be worse than Giles ever was.
"Trust me, I'm a much more patient Watcher-type." Spike snorted in derision, and the Slayer turned.
"You know, I think it's time for some sparring practice."
*
"Aim your kick a little higher, Nibblet." Spike stood next to her and indicated that she should mimic his stance. "Now see, I pick my knee up and pivot- "going through the motions- "and then I kick, straight out. See how I lean forward a little, making my body a little more horizontal? It gives you more elongation in the leg, a straighter- harder-kick." He grinned and gestured for her to try. Dawn sighed and went into the starting stance. As she pivoted and kicked her leg out, Spike grabbed hold of it.
"Still dropping." He shook his head. "Now, lean forward and in…lean…good. Feel that." Dawn nodded a little. Her leg felt…straighter, and when she did just the kicking motion a few times, she could feel the added power.
"I think it's time for another demonstration." The vampire turned and cheerfully called, "Buffy, luv, come here."
The Slayer stopped her own workout and wandered over.
"I'm just helping the Lil' bit here with some kicks, and I think it'd help if she understood what she's aiming for." Buffy gave him a skeptical look and went to stand behind Dawn.
"Alright, pet," he whispered quietly in her ear, "remember to keep the leg on the out and straight." She nodded and went into stance. Then up, pivot, lean and kick-
"Oof!"
"Nice one, pet" Spike grinned and gestured. "See? Keep it straight and it goes right into her chest…not as satisfying as a gut punch but a hell of a lot more debilitating for the attacker. Get more strength, and you could really crack some ribs."
"REALLY?"
"Spike…"
"Right, well, we won't practice that drill right now." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe we could get Xander to come in later…"
* * * * *
-Wednesday-
"Watch it, girl!" Spike ducked to the side as another of Dawn's kicks went wild. He waved the paddles he held in each hand. "Aiming for these, remember? Not necessary to take the chips off my shoulders."
The teen stopped and put her hands on her hips. Her new tank top was very wet and smelly, her legs ached, and she had had it up to _here_ with a certain peroxide blond vampire. "Spike, explain to me again HOW breaking a pinkie is going to stop my getting eaten by some vicious demon attacker?"
"We're working on aim, not motives," Spike ground out for what felt like the hundredth time. "Once you've improved your aim enough, I might start letting you near some of my more vital organs."
Dawn threw up her hands and stalked across the room to her water, ranting. "Right, because vampires are such delicate creatures. I might stop your unbeating heart, or, uh, your uh, un-something liver. What part of your anatomy could I possibly injure?" She turned back to find an almost sheepish expression on the vamp's face. And a blushing Slayer. "What?"
* * * * *
-Friday-
"Were you this bad with Giles?" Spike growled a few days later. Dawn had just grudgingly finished her exercises and left, mumbling something about a shower and massage and the fiery death of certain creatures. Buffy was going through the last part of her boxer workout, rehearsing some old punching combinations.
"Oh, no, I used to be much worse." She threw a final left jab and caught the punching bag, setting it still. "Dawn's already been through an apocalypse or two, so she knows the danger." Buffy walked over to an exercise mat and sat down to stretch her legs and back. "Imagine me at fifteen- rash, impulsive-"
"-hot-"
"-naïve. Never having died. Not even a close call. And no vampire boyfriend with 200-plus years of guilt to cope with." She felt Spike bristle slightly at the mention of his grandsire, but the vamp shrugged it off and pulled himself up on the vaulting horse and perched, watching her curiously.
"I didn't get it. The responsibility." She smiled, a little bitterly. "Who thinks about dying at fifteen?"
She was treading on the down slope of wistfulness and pity.
"Sounds a bit like me, when I was young," the vampire jumped in. He flashed a cocky grin at the Slayer. "Not when I was fifteen, 'course, I was just a silly prat in frilly collars – like all Victorian English boys," he added defensively. "But when I was newly turned – what an idiot I was! The kill, the violence, I lived for it. Got my back against a wall more times than I can count, on account of my own self."
She looked at him doubtfully, as if to ask "and you're _proud_ of this??"
He sat up and reached for a cigarette. "If my ol' grandsire had still been human, it would've given him a couple of bloody heart attacks.
"Not that that would be a bad thing," he added in a mutter.
The Slayer looked at him in half-scolding, half-amusement. Spike stretched and smirked to himself. It appeared that the grand revered poof was no longer on such a high pedestal. But still, better not to push the luck. For now.
"But do vampires _really_ think about getting staked?" It was more a statement than a question. She picked up Mr. Pointy and twirled it her hands. "In my experience, most vamps don't. They don't really think about anything or live for anything outside of the present. Not really saving up for that nice retirement condo in West Palm Beach and the Carnival cruise vacation."
Spike jumped down and paced around his half of the room. "We don't have to. Humans are much more fragile. They can be killed in so many ways. They need something to grasp onto that promise of a future, to make them believe they will be there to enjoy it."
He broke out of his introspection and smirked.
"'Course, most vamps are blimey fools in the first place. That's how they got caught and turned. Don't last more than a few months before mister sunshine gets 'em or some big bad dusts 'em for jollies."
"Or they chase after Ms. Slayer and she kicks their ass."
A low chuckle. "Yeah, Ms. Slayer and her overprotective mum." He stopped and smirked. "We're not having a conversation, are we?" He raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who was still sitting on the mat halfway across the room.
She smiled awkwardly. "Guess so."
Someone knocked on the door, and Xander's voice called out. "Hey! Evil Dead! Hope you haven't eaten Buffy, 'cause she has a dinner date with her friends that she needs to get ready for."
The Slayer jumped up in relief and hurried to get her bag. She paused before the door and turned halfway back.
"Spike…Thanks, for helping with Dawn, and – and thanks." She smiled, then opened the door and walked out.
2
3 Part: 1 / 4
4 Author: RedSpark
Email: red_spark@hotmail.com
5
6 Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it's all theirs (JW, ME, and company)
7 Summary: Following another "incident" Buffy decides to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth, and enlists the help of Spike.
Rating: R for the whole series, PG-13 for this part
Spoilers: Season Six up to As You Were and probably Hell's Bells later on
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Staking Lessons, Chapter 1: Going Through the Motions
Background: This is set in Season 6, post-As You Were but with a slightly bent timeline.
The wedding is still a few weeks off. The Spuffy is not occurring, but I am a B/Ser so you have been warned (
Oh, and anything enclosed in "*" is a thought. For example, *thought*
* * * * *
-Flashback ("Once More With Feeling")-
"Have you talked with Dawn about that incident at Halloween?"
Buffy looked at Giles in mild surprise. "No, I thought you took care of it." She walked over to the beam to do some stretches. "What would I do without you, Giles?" She pulled out her hamstring and calves, then turned to face her watcher. "Ok, I'm ready."
* * * * *
-A few months later…-
"Hey Dawn?"
The teen looked up warily. She was in the middle of doing math homework, and normally she'd welcome any interruption, but the look on Buffy's face made her think twice.
"Yeah?"
"Can we talk? Downstairs?"
"Sure." She sighed and stood up, trailing her sister to the living room and the big family conference couch.
Buffy looked at her, unsure how to start. "I need to talk with you, about the, uh, incident at the Bronze."
Dawn sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. "So what about it? Trying to repress here, if you don't mind."
"Well, it's not exactly the first time something like that has happened." Buffy looked at her fixedly. "That other incident at Halloween…"
The girl ground her teeth together. "It's not my fault. It's not like I didn't know them. Maybe," and she glared with all the righteous-teen- anger, "If someone was doing their job better, this wouldn't be happening." She saw her sister cringe at the somewhat-true accusation. It wasn't fair, she knew, but she was still wigged from what had happened….
*
-Flashback to earlier that night-
The extended Scooby Gang was at the Bronze. Xander and Anya were in full pre-Wedding panic mode, devouring a bowl of bar pretzels. Willow was talking happily about some –ology class, and Buffy was doing the lean-on- the-table, semi-interested look as she tried not to sweep the room, looking for a certain blond head.
Dawn spotted Janice stroll in, escorted by several cute guys that looked vaguely familiar. She hopped off her stool and headed over.
Several songs later, Buffy looked out on the dance floor and saw her younger sister dancing closely with a tall redhead.
The slow song ended and Dawn smiled up at the guy, trying hard to remember what Janice had said his name was. He was one of the stars on the basketball team. He took her hand and led her off the dance floor, towards a dark corner. He asked her something about wanting a drink, laughed and vamped out, and knocked her viciously backwards into the shadows. When she regained consciousness, her sister was looming over her, stake still in hand.
*
"You need to be careful, Dawnie. Some guys aren't what they seem- literal or figuratively." The two sat there for a minute, lost in separate memories.
"Well, you have to admit this was better then _last_ time," the teen pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood.
Buffy laughed softly. "God, if mom had ever caught me parking…I would have been Ms. goes-to-bed-at-nine for the next two years. I'm not very good at dealing out mom punishments, though, so I have a different idea." The mischievous glint in her sister's eye caught Dawn off-guard. "For the next four weeks, you are grounded after school. No going over to friends' houses, without my permission. Instead, you're going to come straight to the Magic Box. And I am going to teach you how to stake a vamp properly."
* * * * *
-Week 1-
-Monday-
The bell in the Magic Shop rang as Dawn ran in after school. She shouted a quick hello to the Scoobies and bounced to the back to put her bag away. At the doors to the training room she paused, hearing a raging argument inside.
"-cute idea. And next week, we can teach her how to patrol so she can go be Little Slayer Sidekick."
"Look Spike, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we DO live on a Hellmouth. Vampire slaying should be, like, a home ec class. AND, it's pretty obvious that attraction to vampires seems to be in the Summers' blood. So, better safe than sorry."
"Oh, I'm all for safe, luv. Which is why I don't understand why *I* should be the one to teach 'er. Call bloody Rupert, tell 'im you've got a new candidate or some rot. I'm sure an unemployed ex-librarian would jump at such an offer."
Buffy shoved him, hard. "I am NOT calling Giles. I can take care of this on my own."
"Right, pet." Spike came right up to her face. "That's why you're practically begging for my help."
"I am NOT begging."
"Is that so?" He tilted his head inquisitively, then smirked. "I could make you, you know."
"What?"
"Beg."
Buffy rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to shove him, falling back instead on her verbal arsenal. "Spike, you're a pig."
"Please, Slayer, sing me a new one." He rolled his eyes in return.
She bit back a scathing comment and the room lapsed into uncomfortable silence, for a moment at least. Both were a little rusty at playing the old slayer-evil fiend act, although the past week had shown that UST could be a blessing in that regard. Heat. Desire. When contained, they only tended to fester and emerge in other, not so pleasant ways.
Buffy looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she opened the weapons chest. The avoidance method had worked out well, for the few hours she didn't need his help. But somehow, something always came up. *And usually related to Dawn* she growled to herself. At least this time, he hadn't thrown it back in her face when she'd asked. Not at the time. Now, however, she was thinking he had just been saving up for today.
*Pissing a Slayer off in a room with lots of sharp, point weapons. Not getting any brighter, is he?*
"Any time you'd like to come back to bloody earth, Mulder? Don't have all night to stand around contemplating the ceiling, 'least while I'm still sober and standing."
*But definitely getting more obnoxious. And you thought it wasn't possible*
She looked around at him, standing there with an unreadable expression. "Spi-"
"Let's just get on with it then. Nibblet!" He could hear the girl just beyond the door, filled with trepidation at what was going on in the room. At his call, though, she bravely came through the door, feigning innocence and complete ignorance of the argument.
"I'm ready." She stood there in black adidas pants and a t-shirt, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Spike looked to Buffy for guidance.
"Ah…ok, so first we're going to learn a few self defense moves."
Buffy ran her sister through different types of kicks and punches, and had her do several repetitions. After the umpteenth roundhouse, Dawn complained that she must be worse than Giles ever was.
"Trust me, I'm a much more patient Watcher-type." Spike snorted in derision, and the Slayer turned.
"You know, I think it's time for some sparring practice."
*
"Aim your kick a little higher, Nibblet." Spike stood next to her and indicated that she should mimic his stance. "Now see, I pick my knee up and pivot- "going through the motions- "and then I kick, straight out. See how I lean forward a little, making my body a little more horizontal? It gives you more elongation in the leg, a straighter- harder-kick." He grinned and gestured for her to try. Dawn sighed and went into the starting stance. As she pivoted and kicked her leg out, Spike grabbed hold of it.
"Still dropping." He shook his head. "Now, lean forward and in…lean…good. Feel that." Dawn nodded a little. Her leg felt…straighter, and when she did just the kicking motion a few times, she could feel the added power.
"I think it's time for another demonstration." The vampire turned and cheerfully called, "Buffy, luv, come here."
The Slayer stopped her own workout and wandered over.
"I'm just helping the Lil' bit here with some kicks, and I think it'd help if she understood what she's aiming for." Buffy gave him a skeptical look and went to stand behind Dawn.
"Alright, pet," he whispered quietly in her ear, "remember to keep the leg on the out and straight." She nodded and went into stance. Then up, pivot, lean and kick-
"Oof!"
"Nice one, pet" Spike grinned and gestured. "See? Keep it straight and it goes right into her chest…not as satisfying as a gut punch but a hell of a lot more debilitating for the attacker. Get more strength, and you could really crack some ribs."
"REALLY?"
"Spike…"
"Right, well, we won't practice that drill right now." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe we could get Xander to come in later…"
* * * * *
-Wednesday-
"Watch it, girl!" Spike ducked to the side as another of Dawn's kicks went wild. He waved the paddles he held in each hand. "Aiming for these, remember? Not necessary to take the chips off my shoulders."
The teen stopped and put her hands on her hips. Her new tank top was very wet and smelly, her legs ached, and she had had it up to _here_ with a certain peroxide blond vampire. "Spike, explain to me again HOW breaking a pinkie is going to stop my getting eaten by some vicious demon attacker?"
"We're working on aim, not motives," Spike ground out for what felt like the hundredth time. "Once you've improved your aim enough, I might start letting you near some of my more vital organs."
Dawn threw up her hands and stalked across the room to her water, ranting. "Right, because vampires are such delicate creatures. I might stop your unbeating heart, or, uh, your uh, un-something liver. What part of your anatomy could I possibly injure?" She turned back to find an almost sheepish expression on the vamp's face. And a blushing Slayer. "What?"
* * * * *
-Friday-
"Were you this bad with Giles?" Spike growled a few days later. Dawn had just grudgingly finished her exercises and left, mumbling something about a shower and massage and the fiery death of certain creatures. Buffy was going through the last part of her boxer workout, rehearsing some old punching combinations.
"Oh, no, I used to be much worse." She threw a final left jab and caught the punching bag, setting it still. "Dawn's already been through an apocalypse or two, so she knows the danger." Buffy walked over to an exercise mat and sat down to stretch her legs and back. "Imagine me at fifteen- rash, impulsive-"
"-hot-"
"-naïve. Never having died. Not even a close call. And no vampire boyfriend with 200-plus years of guilt to cope with." She felt Spike bristle slightly at the mention of his grandsire, but the vamp shrugged it off and pulled himself up on the vaulting horse and perched, watching her curiously.
"I didn't get it. The responsibility." She smiled, a little bitterly. "Who thinks about dying at fifteen?"
She was treading on the down slope of wistfulness and pity.
"Sounds a bit like me, when I was young," the vampire jumped in. He flashed a cocky grin at the Slayer. "Not when I was fifteen, 'course, I was just a silly prat in frilly collars – like all Victorian English boys," he added defensively. "But when I was newly turned – what an idiot I was! The kill, the violence, I lived for it. Got my back against a wall more times than I can count, on account of my own self."
She looked at him doubtfully, as if to ask "and you're _proud_ of this??"
He sat up and reached for a cigarette. "If my ol' grandsire had still been human, it would've given him a couple of bloody heart attacks.
"Not that that would be a bad thing," he added in a mutter.
The Slayer looked at him in half-scolding, half-amusement. Spike stretched and smirked to himself. It appeared that the grand revered poof was no longer on such a high pedestal. But still, better not to push the luck. For now.
"But do vampires _really_ think about getting staked?" It was more a statement than a question. She picked up Mr. Pointy and twirled it her hands. "In my experience, most vamps don't. They don't really think about anything or live for anything outside of the present. Not really saving up for that nice retirement condo in West Palm Beach and the Carnival cruise vacation."
Spike jumped down and paced around his half of the room. "We don't have to. Humans are much more fragile. They can be killed in so many ways. They need something to grasp onto that promise of a future, to make them believe they will be there to enjoy it."
He broke out of his introspection and smirked.
"'Course, most vamps are blimey fools in the first place. That's how they got caught and turned. Don't last more than a few months before mister sunshine gets 'em or some big bad dusts 'em for jollies."
"Or they chase after Ms. Slayer and she kicks their ass."
A low chuckle. "Yeah, Ms. Slayer and her overprotective mum." He stopped and smirked. "We're not having a conversation, are we?" He raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who was still sitting on the mat halfway across the room.
She smiled awkwardly. "Guess so."
Someone knocked on the door, and Xander's voice called out. "Hey! Evil Dead! Hope you haven't eaten Buffy, 'cause she has a dinner date with her friends that she needs to get ready for."
The Slayer jumped up in relief and hurried to get her bag. She paused before the door and turned halfway back.
"Spike…Thanks, for helping with Dawn, and – and thanks." She smiled, then opened the door and walked out.