The Gray Area
Author: Jenn B.
Disclaimer: If they were mine I'd be getting money for this script. :-)
Spoilers for the Killer in Me and previous episodes
Summary: A little idea on what Buffy might be thinking about her decision,
or what I want her to decide ;-) B/S
Distribution: Sure! Just let me know please. Also will eventually be at
http://www.geocities.com/stakeandheart
Author's notes: Just a little something that popped into my head while
pondering the upcoming episode tomorrow. I wasn't going to write it but
then decided to anyway. Hope you enjoy!
Author's Note 2: Written late at night and not beta'ed at all because I
wanted to get it posted before the next episode aired. Please ignore
grammar mistakes or any other mistakes.
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Spike:" Do you trust me?" Buffy :" Never." -- Buffy and Spike "Dead Things"--
" Take it out." Buffy said quietly, not meeting the eyes of the man who stood in front of her, knowing that she would find disapproval and possibly even disgust there.
" You're sure, ma'am?"
" Yeah. Yes," she turned a resolved gaze on him this time. It was beyond what an Initiative leader thought now. It was up to her and her alone. " Remove the chip." Cell doors clanging shut, no turning back.
The man nodded out of obedience if not quite acceptance and gestured to the awaiting surgeon standing some distance behind Buffy. She walked over to the table where Spike was laying prone, the last surge of electricity from the malfunctioning chip sending him into a blissful, pain free unconsciousness. The harsh light overhead only accentuated the paleness of his marble skin, the sharpness of his prominent cheekbones. A small trickle of blood was drying on his upper lip and Buffy had to resist the urge to wipe it away.
The whirring of the saw tore her violently out of her reverie and she winced at the mental image the sound alone brought into her mind. She had to get out of there.
" Spike, if you can hear me, I'll be right back." She whispered and fled the room as quickly as she could while preserving some of her dignity with a squeeze of his cold hand as her goodbye. 'You would think a Slayer could handle a little brain surgery' she thought to herself without humor.
It was cold. The sterile white of the area adjacent to the operating room only seemed to enhance the chill. Shivering slightly, Buffy crossed her arms to keep her composure. She could feel the eyes on her. The Initiative soldiers; possibly even some that she had worked with during her brief stint as a military personnel. Most were trained to see black as black, white as white, and an H.S.T as an evil to be eradicated; there was no gray area in their minds. Many saw her as a loose end in their mission, despite or because of Riley's accounts of their adventures in Sunnydale.
" Miss Summers?" A voice behind her said softly. " We're done." Buffy turned in surprise; either she had been staring off into space for longer that she had thought or the surgery had been quick. She followed the nameless doctor back into the room where Spike rested, a stark white bandage circling his head. It was unnatural for him to be so still, so lifeless. Even when he slept Buffy remembered him to be slightly animated. Lying there on the metal table, he looked like a corpse, which he was, and yet which he wasn't at the same time.
A metal bowl sat alone on a table, contained within it the chip. It had been cleaned she imagined for her benefit, and left there as proof. The evidence of her decision was staring her in the face and she felt only a tiny niggling of concern in the back of her mind. That wasn't the confusing part at all. What concerned her was that she couldn't figure out what she really felt, and at the moment didn't even want to venture there.
" Buffy," Spike groaned, still unconscious.
" I'm here." She said softly, leaning down to brush a chaste kiss on his bandaged forehead. 'Back into the gray area.' She added silently.
The End
Spike:" Do you trust me?" Buffy :" Never." -- Buffy and Spike "Dead Things"--
" Take it out." Buffy said quietly, not meeting the eyes of the man who stood in front of her, knowing that she would find disapproval and possibly even disgust there.
" You're sure, ma'am?"
" Yeah. Yes," she turned a resolved gaze on him this time. It was beyond what an Initiative leader thought now. It was up to her and her alone. " Remove the chip." Cell doors clanging shut, no turning back.
The man nodded out of obedience if not quite acceptance and gestured to the awaiting surgeon standing some distance behind Buffy. She walked over to the table where Spike was laying prone, the last surge of electricity from the malfunctioning chip sending him into a blissful, pain free unconsciousness. The harsh light overhead only accentuated the paleness of his marble skin, the sharpness of his prominent cheekbones. A small trickle of blood was drying on his upper lip and Buffy had to resist the urge to wipe it away.
The whirring of the saw tore her violently out of her reverie and she winced at the mental image the sound alone brought into her mind. She had to get out of there.
" Spike, if you can hear me, I'll be right back." She whispered and fled the room as quickly as she could while preserving some of her dignity with a squeeze of his cold hand as her goodbye. 'You would think a Slayer could handle a little brain surgery' she thought to herself without humor.
It was cold. The sterile white of the area adjacent to the operating room only seemed to enhance the chill. Shivering slightly, Buffy crossed her arms to keep her composure. She could feel the eyes on her. The Initiative soldiers; possibly even some that she had worked with during her brief stint as a military personnel. Most were trained to see black as black, white as white, and an H.S.T as an evil to be eradicated; there was no gray area in their minds. Many saw her as a loose end in their mission, despite or because of Riley's accounts of their adventures in Sunnydale.
" Miss Summers?" A voice behind her said softly. " We're done." Buffy turned in surprise; either she had been staring off into space for longer that she had thought or the surgery had been quick. She followed the nameless doctor back into the room where Spike rested, a stark white bandage circling his head. It was unnatural for him to be so still, so lifeless. Even when he slept Buffy remembered him to be slightly animated. Lying there on the metal table, he looked like a corpse, which he was, and yet which he wasn't at the same time.
A metal bowl sat alone on a table, contained within it the chip. It had been cleaned she imagined for her benefit, and left there as proof. The evidence of her decision was staring her in the face and she felt only a tiny niggling of concern in the back of her mind. That wasn't the confusing part at all. What concerned her was that she couldn't figure out what she really felt, and at the moment didn't even want to venture there.
" Buffy," Spike groaned, still unconscious.
" I'm here." She said softly, leaning down to brush a chaste kiss on his bandaged forehead. 'Back into the gray area.' She added silently.
The End