Title: A Passing Shadow: Book I: Deep Down Dark: Chapter 14
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc: please see previous chapters
Now, when I say I chose Spike, I don't mean that I didn't plan on walking out of there with both of them. I mean, it's not like I just I looked at poor Ricky hanging there in Drusilla's claw and said 'sorry kid, tonight I'll be saving the evil undead vampire--better luck next time.'
It's just that instead of putting one hundred percent of my effort into my sacred sworn duty to protect the innocent, I only gave it only maybe ninety percent. It might have had something to do with the way Drusilla was licking away the blood that was smeared on Spike's cheek. It distracted me. It pissed me off. So my first kick, which I thought I'd aimed straight into her gut, went a little wild and caught Spike in his right shoulder, spinning him out of her grip and over the tomb behind them.
If I'd thought the noise she was making earlier was awful, it was only because I'd forgotten how loud the loon could scream. She came at me, still shaking Ricky like a rag doll, and I knew it was a do or die kind of situation when I saw the big crazy in her eyes.
Then everything went all slow motion. It was like when I took the big plunge--every fraction of every second counted and I knew it was another one of Whistler's big moments. You might have noticed that I get more than my share of those.
The stake was in my hand. Ricky's eyes were rolling around in his head, and I knew that the next few seconds meant everything for him. Drusilla was still shrieking like a car alarm and Spike was pulling himself back up over the tomb. I saw my opening.
A slight pivot. A small shift of my weight. An arcing of my arm. That's all it would have taken. I've done it hundreds of times. I do it in my sleep every night. Remember? It's my gift.
And then I saw Spike's face rise up over Drusilla's shoulder. He was looking at me and I knew that he could see me and see what I was about to do--what I HAD to do. The expression on his face...
I've seen that sort of pain before. Angel does that kind of deep, emotional woundy-ness really well. The kind of pain that becomes a part of you from then on, like another organ inside your body.
I chose, just for a second, to think about what it would mean to Spike if I dusted Drusilla. I thought of that instead of what I knew in my heart and soul was the right and only thing to do.
Giles used to tell me: 'he who hesitates is lost.' He spent a lot of time getting me into the whole 'zen' mode of fighting--emptying my mind of everything but the dance, so that I'd learn not to let anything make me hesitate like I did at that moment.
Drusilla knocked the stake out of my hand and jumped on me. She threw Ricky aside like he was made of air. The whole cobra metaphor? Turned out to be a good one, 'cause getting attacked by Drusilla is kind of like getting struck by a snake. Repeatedly.
And then...and then.
Everything stopped. The air around me was suddenly gritty with...dust? And Spike was standing over me with my stake in his hand, staring down at me. Or maybe it was what was left of Drusilla he was staring at. I never asked.
And all I could think was this: 'fucking hurts, doesn't it?' Nothing like having to exterminate your lover. It's a one-of-a-kind experience.
What do you say to someone in a situation like that? When it was me, I didn't stop to talk--I just wrote a note and got the hell out of Dodge.
He dropped the stake and grabbed a dirty rag and pressed it against the gash on his throat. When he pulled it away, I could see that it had already stopped bleeding.
I had to get Ricky to a hospital. I was feeling huge guilt for not doing a hell of a lot better job at saving him. I brushed the last of Drusilla off my clothes and then I heaved the kid over my shoulder.
So, what should I have said to him? I'm asking, here. 'Cause really, I know I could've done better, but I don't know how, and if the situation ever comes up again...
"Um...Spike? I'm gonna call an ambulance and meet it outside the cemetery...you want to come? Or not. I mean, it's totally up to you."
He didn't say anything. He looked at me and shrugged, and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. And...
DAMN! The duster. It was dust. That upset me as much as anything else that had happened so far that night.
He took Ricky from me and carried him out to the street, with one hand on my shoulder the whole way. We stood there and listened as the siren got closer. He never said anything. Neither did I.
After the ambulance pulled away, I called Dawn and Willow. Then I looked at him. He was standing at the gates, staring back into the darkness in the direction of his crypt. And there was me, still very big with the not knowing what to say.
He turned. "Shall we, Slayer? Or were you thinkin' of a quick patrol, then?" His voice was casual and kind of distant. I thought maybe he was in shock. Then I realized he was waiting for me to lead him home. I took his hand. It felt very cold and dry.
He didn't say another word the whole way back to the shop. When we got there, he smiled at Dawn and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then he went into the back room and shut the door.
Dawn and Willow were full of questions, which I answered the best way I could. Then we all stood around and felt Spike's pain over being forced to stake his demonic lover of over a hundred years. And then it was time to get Dawn into bed, 'cause she had an algebra test in the morning.
I thought about knocking on the door, just to say 'goodnight.' And maybe, you know, 'thank you' for saving my life and probably Ricky's too. And 'sorry.' Maybe not so much for Drusilla, 'cause that would be a lie, but for the coat, anyway.
But, jelly-belly struck again. Give me twenty assorted demons in close fighting quarters and I'm all over it--but save me from having to deal up close and personal with anymore angst, please. Like, ever. I feel like I've earned a lifetime reprieve.
When we left, Willow was turning off the lights around the shop. Just as we were going out the door, she called to me.
"Oh, Buffy! I forgot to tell you--Giles called! Guess what? He's coming back!"
Sounds like great news, right? Yeah, I thought so, too.
tbc
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc: please see previous chapters
Now, when I say I chose Spike, I don't mean that I didn't plan on walking out of there with both of them. I mean, it's not like I just I looked at poor Ricky hanging there in Drusilla's claw and said 'sorry kid, tonight I'll be saving the evil undead vampire--better luck next time.'
It's just that instead of putting one hundred percent of my effort into my sacred sworn duty to protect the innocent, I only gave it only maybe ninety percent. It might have had something to do with the way Drusilla was licking away the blood that was smeared on Spike's cheek. It distracted me. It pissed me off. So my first kick, which I thought I'd aimed straight into her gut, went a little wild and caught Spike in his right shoulder, spinning him out of her grip and over the tomb behind them.
If I'd thought the noise she was making earlier was awful, it was only because I'd forgotten how loud the loon could scream. She came at me, still shaking Ricky like a rag doll, and I knew it was a do or die kind of situation when I saw the big crazy in her eyes.
Then everything went all slow motion. It was like when I took the big plunge--every fraction of every second counted and I knew it was another one of Whistler's big moments. You might have noticed that I get more than my share of those.
The stake was in my hand. Ricky's eyes were rolling around in his head, and I knew that the next few seconds meant everything for him. Drusilla was still shrieking like a car alarm and Spike was pulling himself back up over the tomb. I saw my opening.
A slight pivot. A small shift of my weight. An arcing of my arm. That's all it would have taken. I've done it hundreds of times. I do it in my sleep every night. Remember? It's my gift.
And then I saw Spike's face rise up over Drusilla's shoulder. He was looking at me and I knew that he could see me and see what I was about to do--what I HAD to do. The expression on his face...
I've seen that sort of pain before. Angel does that kind of deep, emotional woundy-ness really well. The kind of pain that becomes a part of you from then on, like another organ inside your body.
I chose, just for a second, to think about what it would mean to Spike if I dusted Drusilla. I thought of that instead of what I knew in my heart and soul was the right and only thing to do.
Giles used to tell me: 'he who hesitates is lost.' He spent a lot of time getting me into the whole 'zen' mode of fighting--emptying my mind of everything but the dance, so that I'd learn not to let anything make me hesitate like I did at that moment.
Drusilla knocked the stake out of my hand and jumped on me. She threw Ricky aside like he was made of air. The whole cobra metaphor? Turned out to be a good one, 'cause getting attacked by Drusilla is kind of like getting struck by a snake. Repeatedly.
And then...and then.
Everything stopped. The air around me was suddenly gritty with...dust? And Spike was standing over me with my stake in his hand, staring down at me. Or maybe it was what was left of Drusilla he was staring at. I never asked.
And all I could think was this: 'fucking hurts, doesn't it?' Nothing like having to exterminate your lover. It's a one-of-a-kind experience.
What do you say to someone in a situation like that? When it was me, I didn't stop to talk--I just wrote a note and got the hell out of Dodge.
He dropped the stake and grabbed a dirty rag and pressed it against the gash on his throat. When he pulled it away, I could see that it had already stopped bleeding.
I had to get Ricky to a hospital. I was feeling huge guilt for not doing a hell of a lot better job at saving him. I brushed the last of Drusilla off my clothes and then I heaved the kid over my shoulder.
So, what should I have said to him? I'm asking, here. 'Cause really, I know I could've done better, but I don't know how, and if the situation ever comes up again...
"Um...Spike? I'm gonna call an ambulance and meet it outside the cemetery...you want to come? Or not. I mean, it's totally up to you."
He didn't say anything. He looked at me and shrugged, and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. And...
DAMN! The duster. It was dust. That upset me as much as anything else that had happened so far that night.
He took Ricky from me and carried him out to the street, with one hand on my shoulder the whole way. We stood there and listened as the siren got closer. He never said anything. Neither did I.
After the ambulance pulled away, I called Dawn and Willow. Then I looked at him. He was standing at the gates, staring back into the darkness in the direction of his crypt. And there was me, still very big with the not knowing what to say.
He turned. "Shall we, Slayer? Or were you thinkin' of a quick patrol, then?" His voice was casual and kind of distant. I thought maybe he was in shock. Then I realized he was waiting for me to lead him home. I took his hand. It felt very cold and dry.
He didn't say another word the whole way back to the shop. When we got there, he smiled at Dawn and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then he went into the back room and shut the door.
Dawn and Willow were full of questions, which I answered the best way I could. Then we all stood around and felt Spike's pain over being forced to stake his demonic lover of over a hundred years. And then it was time to get Dawn into bed, 'cause she had an algebra test in the morning.
I thought about knocking on the door, just to say 'goodnight.' And maybe, you know, 'thank you' for saving my life and probably Ricky's too. And 'sorry.' Maybe not so much for Drusilla, 'cause that would be a lie, but for the coat, anyway.
But, jelly-belly struck again. Give me twenty assorted demons in close fighting quarters and I'm all over it--but save me from having to deal up close and personal with anymore angst, please. Like, ever. I feel like I've earned a lifetime reprieve.
When we left, Willow was turning off the lights around the shop. Just as we were going out the door, she called to me.
"Oh, Buffy! I forgot to tell you--Giles called! Guess what? He's coming back!"
Sounds like great news, right? Yeah, I thought so, too.
tbc