Spikin' the Tardis
By Colleen Hillerup
Spike stood alone under a tree in the Sunnydale Cemetery. He took a long drag from his cigarette and threw it on the ground, crushing it under his boot. Immediately, he pulled another from the pack in his pocket and lit it. "Damn it, Buffy," he said to himself, taking another lungful of smoke, "I told you I wasn't going to fall for it again. And again, like a stupid git, I let you use me for sex and take off. Bitch."
The quiet night was disturbed by a wheezing, groaning sound. To Spike's amazement, a blue wooden box appeared beside him out of nowhere. The door opened, and out stepped a man of medium height and slight build, with wavy brown shoulder length hair and a long brown frock coat. "Excuse me," the man said, "But I seem to be lost. This isn't San Francisco, is it?"
"No, Sunnydale," replied Spike. "Hey, you're a Brit. And this is a police box. Haven't seen one of these in years. And where the bloody hell did it come from?"
"This is my Tardis. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It only looks like a police box. Cloaking device got stuck this way years ago, and I haven't had the heart to fix it." The Doctor patted the side of the box. "Poor old thing. Tries so hard to get me where I want to go. That's the trouble with the Type 40. She has the best intentions. By the way, I'm not a Brit. I'm from Gallifrey."
"Oh," replied Spike, "you don't sound Irish."
"Common mistake," said the Doctor, "But Gallifrey isn't in Ireland, it's a planet."
"Right," Spike replied, looking about for the men in white coats.
"That's a nasty habit you have," the Doctor said, pointing at the cigarette. "Care for a jelly baby instead?"
Spike's eyes lit up. "Jelly babies? Haven't had one in ages. Got blackcurrant?" Spike dipped his hand into the small paper bag offered by the Doctor. He popped the candy in his mouth and grinned.
"You know," said the Doctor, "I haven't known many vampires that like jelly babies."
"How did you....." Spike was stymied.
"I've met a fair number in my day. Usually, they bite first and ask questions later." The Doctor looked Spike in the eye. "I don't think that you're the regular garden variety, young man."
"Young," exclaimed Spike, "I'm 128 years old. Hardly young."
"Ah, well," the Doctor replied, "I'm 973. But who's counting? So, what makes you different, young vampire?"
"Spike," he answered. "I've got a chip in my brain. Stops me from hurting humans. Pain in the arse. Every time I try to bite someone, I end up with a migraine."
"Ah well," said the Doctor, "I suppose I'm in trouble, then. I'm only half human, on my mother's side."
"Never mind, mate," said Spike, "You seem a right enough sort. And I don't fancy trying for a headache to see if I can hurt you."
"Wise move," the Doctor replied. "I doubt you'd fancy the taste of me, in any case. So, what's troubling you?"
"Girl."
"Hm," said the Doctor. "Having a bit of a problem with that myself. I've known so many women, strictly as friends and travelling companions, mind, and then I met Grace. It's why I'm trying to get back to San Francisco. I was a fool to leave her."
"Slept with her and she treated you like dirt, did she?" asked Spike.
"Not exactly, answered the Doctor. "Kissed her. Twice. First time in my life." He smiled. "It was quite marvellous."
Spike stared at him in shock. "Two kisses in 973 years? And you've never...."
The Doctor shook his head. "Never. Good incentive to find her again, don't you think?"
"And I thought I had problems." Spike paused. "Which I do. Vampire in love with a vampire slayer. How could that work out well?"
"Don't underestimate yourself, Spike. I've known many a cross species union. Certainly, they've had their problems, but many have worked out well. Take Susan and David, for example, and Delta." The Doctor frowned. "There's Peri and Yrcanos, of course, but I'm sure you're much better suited to your young lady."
"Not to hear her tell it. She says I'm a thing, that I was convenient, but it doesn't stop her from wanting to shag like bunnies whenever the mood strikes." Spike reached into the paper bag and took another jelly baby. "Damn depressing."
"Listen," said the Doctor. "I have an idea. I'm currently without a travelling companion, and who knows when I'll find Grace. Your life isn't too chipper. Why don't you come with me and tour the galaxy. We'll have great adventures. Nothing more exciting than taking on a shipload of Daleks. Help you forget all about your.... What is her name?"
"Buffy."
"Buffy," said the Doctor. "Are you sure that she's human?"
"I'm not sure of anything at the moment. Thanks for the offer, Doctor, but I think I'd rather stay around and try to work things out." He smiled. "Oh, and thanks for not staking me."
"Not my style," the Doctor replied. "Sure you won't reconsider?" Spike shook his head. "Right then," said the Doctor, opening the door of the Tardis. "Off to San Francisco, 1999."
"Good luck with your Grace, Doctor," said Spike.
"Good luck with Buffy." The Doctor closed the door, and with another wheezing, groaning sound, the box was gone.
"Could be worse," said Spike to himself, pushing the bag of candies he had nicked from the Doctor into his duster pocket. "At least we're both from the same planet."
By Colleen Hillerup
Spike stood alone under a tree in the Sunnydale Cemetery. He took a long drag from his cigarette and threw it on the ground, crushing it under his boot. Immediately, he pulled another from the pack in his pocket and lit it. "Damn it, Buffy," he said to himself, taking another lungful of smoke, "I told you I wasn't going to fall for it again. And again, like a stupid git, I let you use me for sex and take off. Bitch."
The quiet night was disturbed by a wheezing, groaning sound. To Spike's amazement, a blue wooden box appeared beside him out of nowhere. The door opened, and out stepped a man of medium height and slight build, with wavy brown shoulder length hair and a long brown frock coat. "Excuse me," the man said, "But I seem to be lost. This isn't San Francisco, is it?"
"No, Sunnydale," replied Spike. "Hey, you're a Brit. And this is a police box. Haven't seen one of these in years. And where the bloody hell did it come from?"
"This is my Tardis. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It only looks like a police box. Cloaking device got stuck this way years ago, and I haven't had the heart to fix it." The Doctor patted the side of the box. "Poor old thing. Tries so hard to get me where I want to go. That's the trouble with the Type 40. She has the best intentions. By the way, I'm not a Brit. I'm from Gallifrey."
"Oh," replied Spike, "you don't sound Irish."
"Common mistake," said the Doctor, "But Gallifrey isn't in Ireland, it's a planet."
"Right," Spike replied, looking about for the men in white coats.
"That's a nasty habit you have," the Doctor said, pointing at the cigarette. "Care for a jelly baby instead?"
Spike's eyes lit up. "Jelly babies? Haven't had one in ages. Got blackcurrant?" Spike dipped his hand into the small paper bag offered by the Doctor. He popped the candy in his mouth and grinned.
"You know," said the Doctor, "I haven't known many vampires that like jelly babies."
"How did you....." Spike was stymied.
"I've met a fair number in my day. Usually, they bite first and ask questions later." The Doctor looked Spike in the eye. "I don't think that you're the regular garden variety, young man."
"Young," exclaimed Spike, "I'm 128 years old. Hardly young."
"Ah, well," the Doctor replied, "I'm 973. But who's counting? So, what makes you different, young vampire?"
"Spike," he answered. "I've got a chip in my brain. Stops me from hurting humans. Pain in the arse. Every time I try to bite someone, I end up with a migraine."
"Ah well," said the Doctor, "I suppose I'm in trouble, then. I'm only half human, on my mother's side."
"Never mind, mate," said Spike, "You seem a right enough sort. And I don't fancy trying for a headache to see if I can hurt you."
"Wise move," the Doctor replied. "I doubt you'd fancy the taste of me, in any case. So, what's troubling you?"
"Girl."
"Hm," said the Doctor. "Having a bit of a problem with that myself. I've known so many women, strictly as friends and travelling companions, mind, and then I met Grace. It's why I'm trying to get back to San Francisco. I was a fool to leave her."
"Slept with her and she treated you like dirt, did she?" asked Spike.
"Not exactly, answered the Doctor. "Kissed her. Twice. First time in my life." He smiled. "It was quite marvellous."
Spike stared at him in shock. "Two kisses in 973 years? And you've never...."
The Doctor shook his head. "Never. Good incentive to find her again, don't you think?"
"And I thought I had problems." Spike paused. "Which I do. Vampire in love with a vampire slayer. How could that work out well?"
"Don't underestimate yourself, Spike. I've known many a cross species union. Certainly, they've had their problems, but many have worked out well. Take Susan and David, for example, and Delta." The Doctor frowned. "There's Peri and Yrcanos, of course, but I'm sure you're much better suited to your young lady."
"Not to hear her tell it. She says I'm a thing, that I was convenient, but it doesn't stop her from wanting to shag like bunnies whenever the mood strikes." Spike reached into the paper bag and took another jelly baby. "Damn depressing."
"Listen," said the Doctor. "I have an idea. I'm currently without a travelling companion, and who knows when I'll find Grace. Your life isn't too chipper. Why don't you come with me and tour the galaxy. We'll have great adventures. Nothing more exciting than taking on a shipload of Daleks. Help you forget all about your.... What is her name?"
"Buffy."
"Buffy," said the Doctor. "Are you sure that she's human?"
"I'm not sure of anything at the moment. Thanks for the offer, Doctor, but I think I'd rather stay around and try to work things out." He smiled. "Oh, and thanks for not staking me."
"Not my style," the Doctor replied. "Sure you won't reconsider?" Spike shook his head. "Right then," said the Doctor, opening the door of the Tardis. "Off to San Francisco, 1999."
"Good luck with your Grace, Doctor," said Spike.
"Good luck with Buffy." The Doctor closed the door, and with another wheezing, groaning sound, the box was gone.
"Could be worse," said Spike to himself, pushing the bag of candies he had nicked from the Doctor into his duster pocket. "At least we're both from the same planet."