Title: Spike writes?
Spoilers: none
Rating: pg13
COC: Spike, Buffy
POV: Buffy
Disclaimer: Ownership et al- Joss Whedon & Co.
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Author: Sunlit
For Myrtle- because she asked.
Challenge fic response.
The requirements as posted by Myrtle- use this poem
The Old Dust
by Li Po
The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.
What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike writes
Buffy gingerly steps out of Spike's bed where the blonde vampire's naked torso is exposed where she hadn't pulled the coverlet back up when she got out of bed. She looks him over appreciatively.
Mmm Spike, I don't like you, I certainly don't love you, but damn boy; you have a mighty fine body. Stop it Buffy. You're on a mission!
Last week Dawn told her that she had walked in on Spike and before she finished the sentence Buffy was terrified about what her little sister had witnessed; thankfully all it had only been was that she had seen Spike scribbling furiously in a leather-bound notebook. Not so unusual an activity, true, but she had seen Buffy's name inscribed therein before Spike noticed she was there and slammed shut the book and placed it in a footlocker.
Buffy dresses and directs her attention on the footlocker. She finds it unlocked. Inside she finds treasures of a time passed. Old doll advertisements- probable gifts for an ex love. Buffy smiles despite her jealousy. How sweet. Buffy shakes that thought off- Spike and sweet are not two words that belong together.
She looks over at the bed to make sure he hasn't moved and he hasn't. Good. She roots around in the locker some more. Buffy holds back a laugh. Oh my God! She holds in her hand a picture of Spike and Billy Idol together, and Spike is the one with blonde hair! I knew it! She places the picture aside and moves a box with some of his jewelry aside; I wonder why he stopped wearing it, I kind of liked it.
And there it was. Her snooping had paid off. She rubs her hands together gleefully and pulls out the book. She sits Indian style on the floor in front of the locker and opens the book, searching for her name. I shouldn't be doing this. It isn't… nice. Oh well, I'm sleeping with him, how much lower can I go?
Buffy Buffy my dearest love, my dearest hate
My dearest. My dearest who hateth me.
My undead heart beats when you're near…
I love how you never show any fear
My prize for a
A hellion with a lion's mane of hair
Like a stallion you are when we're…
Grrr….
Oh God, this is horrible! No wonder he keeps it hidden. She flips a few pages and comes to this.
The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.
What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain. Does he write anything that doesn't have to do with sex? He moans and she hastily puts everything away. She quickly undresses and gets back into bed with him.
He opens his eyes and kisses her. "You're still here."
"I was just leaving."
Spike nods, "Of course."
Buffy gets dressed and heads for the door.
Spike calls to her, "I'm a bad poet, I know. But, I'm a good man."
Buffy has the good grace to blush. "You're getting there." She says before she leaves.
Spike lies back in bed, lights a cigarette and wonders how long it will be before she comes back to his bed again.
~Fin~