Title: "Dominoes"
Spoilers: After the season finale, "Graves". Set in the beginning
of season seven.
Rating: PG (so far)
Disclaimer: Joss, Mutant Enemy, Greenwolf, and UPN own the show and it's
characters. So there. For this chapter, I don't own the characters Loraine and
George either.
Summary: B/S (and others) and post-"Graves" fiasco, set in
season 7. My first fanfic. Ever.
*italic text indicates thought
Feedback: Depends on my reviews on whether or not I will continue after
the fifth installment. And I still welcome constructive criticism. :D
Thanks. Again. :P
Spike left his home the spiffiest he's been out of all 44,500 some days of his afterlife. Once he returned, just a wee bit later, his face was fifteen different shades of red, blue, black, purple, and white each. His neck, ironically, was severley blood ridden as well.
Spike: They let him beat me up for 7 minutes. Dawn. Willow. Anya. Buf... and myself.
Spike: "Of all people to grant my wishes, it was Xander."
The vampire left after Xander beat him up. Once he was through, not a word was spoken in the Magic Box till he left.
He slumped onto his chair, waiting patiently to heal. Spike recalled the event, and realized what exactly just happened. It boiled down to...
Spike: Xander beat me up.
Laying in the comfy seat, he took it in. A smile crept unto his Quazimodoed face, and then fully intoxicated it. He burst into hysterical laughter, and cried tears that for once weren't for regret. He continued like that for a long while, waiting till he would heal....
Spike: From the bruises Xander gave me!!
Another fit of snickers embodied him, and he gave way completely to them.
Anya abruptly appeared in a weak aura of smoke within the vampire's catacomb.
Spike froze mid-laugh.
Anya: "Hello Spike."
Spike: "Anya?"
Anya: "I'm sorry."
[insert dramatic pause here]
Anya: "And I think that your wounds need to be tended to, since you were severly violenced. "
He saw that she brought a first aid kit.
Spike obliged, and replied grimly.
Spike: "Thank you."
Nothing else needed to be said, which was a marvel for the two, considering their usual dispositions when it came to vocalizing. So she got to it. Bandages and all, even though he'd heal soon enough either way. Whilst cleaning a creviced cut on his cheek, Anya surpised him with an abrupt question.
Anya: "So. What did you wish for?"
Spike's head tilted somberly, assisted with a raised eyebrow.
Spike: "How did you.."
Anya snorted.
Anya: "It does not take an extreme amount of logic to figure this out. You left. When you came back, we hear about this Sunnydale vampire who went left and came back."
Spike: "I kind of hoped no one would notice."
He smirked a bit, and made her smile.
Anya: "So. What did you wish for? It obviously wasn't for omnipotence, after Buffy's stalker made his point."
Spike chose to disregard Anya's harsh words towards her ex, although her new loyalties befuddled him completely.
Spike: "I.. I wanted to tell everyone at the same time. At least that was what I was supposed to do today."
Anya frowned shyly, and continued to tend to his injuries.
Spike: "But I suppose I can tell you."
She paused and waited. He waited for a while too. He flickered, and then continued.
Spike: "I fought to get my soul back."
Spike squinted; waiting for the disbelief and the scolding.
Anya: "Oh. Is that all?"
She continued to talk as she finished her nursing and packed the first aid.
Anya: "That was nice of you to do. I think Buffy will like it."
Anya kissed her fellow demon on the forehead.
Anya: "You've always been a good man."
With that, she teleported back to the Magic Box; leaving Spike alone with her completely unexpected reaction, and his thoughts.
After Xander's early morning vamp crunch, Buffy had left to go home. She supposedly went to do some prepping for the future big bad.. supposedly. All in all, a very weak and transparent excuse on Buffy's part. Yet they all understood, or at least thought they understood.
So this left the very less than communicative Dawn, Xander, Willow, Giles, and the recently teleported Anya left researching at the shop of magic.
Xander subtly shook his head, stood up, and walked furiously to the door.
Xander: "I.. I gotta go."
With that, he was gone.
Buffy sat lax on her living room couch as she doodled randomly on a notepaper pad. A stake there, a burger here, the beginnings of spiky hair (which were quickly dropped off her doodling priorities) in the corner, books in the other corner, etc. She hummed absently a song she couldn't quite place.
Xander stormed through the front door. After he opened it. His facial expressions were all confusing and such.
Xander: "Buffy..."
Buffy: "What happened?"
Xander: "I.. nothing. It's just.. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Buffy: "Oh. Okay. What's up?"
She distractingly placed the notepad onto a corner table and began to concentrate on her oh so woed best bud. Xander sat next to her, sighing as he lowered his bottom onto the sofa. He smiled as if he were in an adequately dandy Xander mode, and began his talking.. after he sighed again.
Xander: "Buffy. I.. I still.. I still like you. Like-like you. I mean.. kind of ... love you. I'm still.. in love with you. And... and I think you're beginning to see me that way too."
Buffy's face became strewn with confusion as her eyebrows tilted up towards the center of her forehead.
Buffy: "..."
Xander: "I tried not too.. and I still love Anya but.. you.. you're all I..."
He sighed again.. the sigh-master did.
Xander: "What are you thinking right now?"
The seasoned slayer put on a brave face and mustered up a some wordage.
Buffy: "Xander... you're a good friend, but I just don't see you that way. At all."
Buffy's real face would've squinted at the harshness of her last two words.
Xander: Oh sure. And she sees Spike that way? God.
Xander: "Right. Yeah. I understand perfectly."
He removed his hands that were atop Buffy's.
Xander: "You go for the creatures of the night type. The evil sort. Sure. Yeah. I got it."
The construction worker's face was red with embarrassment, green with envy, and had anger written all over it.
Xander: "I.. I don't know why I'd love someone like you. You know what, Buffy? You got problems."
And he stormed out of the house. After he opened the door. Then he slammed the door shut. Buffy sat still, contemplating the lackluster visitor.
Buffy: No. Nothing's wrong with me. I might've been a little off before.. but now.. I get it. I get it all. And I'll get whatever's next. Because there's always something coming.. and this time.. I'll be ready. And Xander's such an ass. But I still love the guy. As a friend. Very strictly as a friend.
She went to the phone, picked up the receiver, and dialed the number to the Magic Box.
Anya: "Hello! This is Anya's Magic Box. Anya is speaking right now. I am she. How may I help you?"
Buffy: "Anya.."
Anya: "Buffy! Hi! How are you?"
Buffy: "Hi Anya, I'm fine thanks. May I speak to Willow please?"
Anya: "Sure! It is not a problem. I'll get her right now. Oh, and congratulations!"
Buffy wasn't able to question the congrats, and Willow was on the line quickly enough.
Willow: "Buffy?"
Buffy: "Hey Willow. Um.. Xander just came by the house. He.. he professed his love to me."
Willow: "...oh. Really? What? What about m-- Anya? You? Still? Well, it does make sense. Everything he does seems to be centered around you."
Buffy: "Yeah. I guess. But.. I don't think I'd be so great at confronting him about it. I mean.. I rejected him. So.. well.. you are his best friend.. so it'd probably be best if you talked to him about it. You're probably the only one who could get through to him."
Willow: "Yeah. I understand. I'll talk to him."
Spike still sits on his worn chair reflecting on the day. The door is slowly opened from the outside, and Xander methodically steps in.
Xander: "Spike."
With a neutral expression and a hint of sly, he calmly closes the door behind him. The dead man sitting expresses only curiosity and awaits the next move.
