*** Please remember, I own no characters except for Blaine who I made up,
everything else belongs to the al might Joss, put another way, Joss' toys,
my sandbox; takes place a couple of months after the gift. ***
It was the closest to her he'd ever get. Every time he saw her, it was like looking at his beloved. Sure, he loved the little bit, but babysitting nights just hurt too much. He didn't know why he'd stayed, a year ago he would have taken off. But a year ago he hadn't fallen for the one girl he would love for his unnaturally long undead, unlife. But his promise to a lady, a lady that would never be his, never let herself be his; even before she di-
Not that he was much good anyway. Couldn't help the little bit. Ever since that night Buffy had- he couldn't even let himself say the word. . . ever since the tower, he had only feed once or twice; immediately purging it, even if it was only pig's blood. He was a monster. Every thing reminded him that he was. The whelp, the sun, even his bloody menu! He had turned himself into one of the 'world vision' children that just a year ago, he though was funny. His already gaunt cheeks had sunken in, and whether it was possible or not, he had grown paler. And sadder still, not caring what he looked like, or his lack of reflection ( whichever) he had let his roots grow out, to reveal dirty blond roots along with the rest of his platinum blond hair.
"Spike?" a tiny voice called.
"Hmm, what is it little bit?"
" Its your turn," said Dawn, pointing towards the table. Various pieces of board game lay in a shambled mess. Spike gave a twist to the little wheel, and then picked up a LIFE card. . .
" Well, never was good with women, even if they are little pieces of pink plastic, it looks like Mrs. The Bloody wants a divorce." Spike said, his half attempt to make a joke only depressed him.
He pulled a tiny pint plastic figure from his tiny, black plastic car. The little blue one stood alone.
" I never was good at 'the Game of Life,'" he quipped in monotone.
Dawn smiled weakly. The cocky, mysterious, and yes, full of life vampire she once knew was gone.
"Do you want some more cocoa? Or, um Giles will be her in a few minutes, if you wanna go, I'll clean up here." Said Dawn.
But before he could argue about how he wasn't one to shriek his responsibilities, scratch that, promises, a knock came from the door. And Giles had come to save him from the 15-year-old who could whip his ass in any and all board games know to man or demon. Spike grabbed his coat and headed towards the door.
"Be seeing you little bit. . . Same time tomorrow?" he said, more of a statement than a question. Giles nodded, and with that, the Billy Idol wannabe left the Summer's home.
***
Spike on the grass between his two favorite women, Joyce and Buffy.
" Now ducks, I've been looking after the bitty Buffy for you both. She's good, well, she's fine. And she sends her love. Sorry luv, Slayer, she doesn't come around much. Bet she feels like if she don't see it, it didn't happen. But she still loves you, both of you. And I. . . it just hurts a little bit more everyday, ya know? And it's not from that fall. 'Cor that hurt like hell, but I guess you already know that." he said, tracing the letter's on Buffy's headstone. " God I love you." He said to his sleeping beauty, "but there are no fairy tales, no Christmas miracles for you. Life's not a bleeding movie. No amount of wishing, or crying. True love isn't gonna triumph. No miracles for the slayer . . ." a tear slid down his cool skin. It was bitter irony. She had given him his second chance, (more than bloody once!) Him, a bloody demon! And she was so full of light, she was pure, she fought on the good side! Where was her second chance? Why her? It was supposed to be him. His sacrifice to show his undying love to her. To prove that he could feel, to love, and to give his life up for her. But it was she. She had died, and with her went his life, his will to live. She was his soul. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to rest. So he fell into a deep sleep between his two women.
It was the closest to her he'd ever get. Every time he saw her, it was like looking at his beloved. Sure, he loved the little bit, but babysitting nights just hurt too much. He didn't know why he'd stayed, a year ago he would have taken off. But a year ago he hadn't fallen for the one girl he would love for his unnaturally long undead, unlife. But his promise to a lady, a lady that would never be his, never let herself be his; even before she di-
Not that he was much good anyway. Couldn't help the little bit. Ever since that night Buffy had- he couldn't even let himself say the word. . . ever since the tower, he had only feed once or twice; immediately purging it, even if it was only pig's blood. He was a monster. Every thing reminded him that he was. The whelp, the sun, even his bloody menu! He had turned himself into one of the 'world vision' children that just a year ago, he though was funny. His already gaunt cheeks had sunken in, and whether it was possible or not, he had grown paler. And sadder still, not caring what he looked like, or his lack of reflection ( whichever) he had let his roots grow out, to reveal dirty blond roots along with the rest of his platinum blond hair.
"Spike?" a tiny voice called.
"Hmm, what is it little bit?"
" Its your turn," said Dawn, pointing towards the table. Various pieces of board game lay in a shambled mess. Spike gave a twist to the little wheel, and then picked up a LIFE card. . .
" Well, never was good with women, even if they are little pieces of pink plastic, it looks like Mrs. The Bloody wants a divorce." Spike said, his half attempt to make a joke only depressed him.
He pulled a tiny pint plastic figure from his tiny, black plastic car. The little blue one stood alone.
" I never was good at 'the Game of Life,'" he quipped in monotone.
Dawn smiled weakly. The cocky, mysterious, and yes, full of life vampire she once knew was gone.
"Do you want some more cocoa? Or, um Giles will be her in a few minutes, if you wanna go, I'll clean up here." Said Dawn.
But before he could argue about how he wasn't one to shriek his responsibilities, scratch that, promises, a knock came from the door. And Giles had come to save him from the 15-year-old who could whip his ass in any and all board games know to man or demon. Spike grabbed his coat and headed towards the door.
"Be seeing you little bit. . . Same time tomorrow?" he said, more of a statement than a question. Giles nodded, and with that, the Billy Idol wannabe left the Summer's home.
***
Spike on the grass between his two favorite women, Joyce and Buffy.
" Now ducks, I've been looking after the bitty Buffy for you both. She's good, well, she's fine. And she sends her love. Sorry luv, Slayer, she doesn't come around much. Bet she feels like if she don't see it, it didn't happen. But she still loves you, both of you. And I. . . it just hurts a little bit more everyday, ya know? And it's not from that fall. 'Cor that hurt like hell, but I guess you already know that." he said, tracing the letter's on Buffy's headstone. " God I love you." He said to his sleeping beauty, "but there are no fairy tales, no Christmas miracles for you. Life's not a bleeding movie. No amount of wishing, or crying. True love isn't gonna triumph. No miracles for the slayer . . ." a tear slid down his cool skin. It was bitter irony. She had given him his second chance, (more than bloody once!) Him, a bloody demon! And she was so full of light, she was pure, she fought on the good side! Where was her second chance? Why her? It was supposed to be him. His sacrifice to show his undying love to her. To prove that he could feel, to love, and to give his life up for her. But it was she. She had died, and with her went his life, his will to live. She was his soul. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to rest. So he fell into a deep sleep between his two women.