Disclaimer: See, there's this god that walks around on earth, and this god, he owns 'em all. Bow down to the great Joss! Ya'know, 'cause I'm just a lowly fan who likes to sneak in and borrow the characters; Hey, I promised to return 'em' eventually.
Author's Notes: What can I say; I have no idea where these story ideas come from. Uh, let's see, hopefully, this is short, and decidedly finished. I feel like this will be my entrance into the S/B writing fandom, because for all my unfinished pieces I don't really feel a part of a genre until I've completed something in it. About the actual story, well, I don't want to give it away, but what can I say, I spend too much time online reading too much fanfic and challenges and quotes, then I go to bed. Around 1am when I can't fricking get to sleep, inspiration hits (or insomnia, you pick) and I come up with things such as this.
Summary: It was just one of those days. Just one moment, in one day, that changed everything for Spike and Buffy.
Rated: R (for violence, suggestiveness, and naughty words;)
Reviews: What would any author do without them? Curl up in a little ball convinced their writing sucked. So, if it DOES suck, go on, tell me, you know you wanna, it just irked you enough! If it doesn't, well feed the fragile ego of an author, and get more yummy stories!
Date Started/Finished: March 1st 2003
One Moment
By ~Delenn~
It was one of those days where the heavens clash jet black with streaks of lightening; where the sky an' seas might as well be running bloody red. Where all the bleedin' powers in the universe get together an' decide, 'Hey, we're going to make your life soddin' hell!'
Have you ever had one of those days? Where if just one thing had gone right it wouldn't have all gone so horribly wrong?
I did, once. Damn near killed me, that day did.
An' I wish it had.
Waking up with Buffy next to me never ceases to amaze me. It's usually short lived, but each time it happens, I can't help but bloody hope she'll stay for a bit. "Mornin', luv."
She was awake before I said anything, but now I feel her body stiffen. The very soddin' idea of waking up with me repulses her, or so she's gone and convinced herself. "Spike," the way she says my name, pretending that she doesn't care, it drives me 'round the bend.
An' there we go, she's up and getting dressed, back to me the whole time, can't bare to face me. I'm well aware that I should keep my bleedin' mouth shut, but it's hard with her leaving, again. Sometimes I think maybe I should just leave, see if she misses me at night when nobody's 'round to see us. "What's a'matter, pet? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"
Buffy spins toward me, her pants and bra already on an' clutching her shirt to her chest. She spits out, "See, the funny thing is, I don't remember going to sleep IN a bed!"
Now that's nothing short of ridiculous, "You were getting cold an' I figured moving to the bed would be easiest. Don't get your knickers in a knot, Slayer, you were asleep."
"That's the thing, Spike," she's giving me her 'holier then thou' look again, never a good thing. "You moved me, and I didn't wake up… you could… I can't… Dawn's going to be home soon, I have to go."
That's downright offending, it is. That she would think that I would… I love her, damn it! Why can't the stupid bint see that? "Don't have to make it sound so dirty, Slayer. We do dirty enough things when we're both awake."
Her face pales, an' apparently I've just reminded her what a 'mistake' this all is. Bullocks! But now she's gone, slamming my poor, abused, crypt door. I get out of bed, more then a little annoyed, another perfect chance to start the day ruined! Slayer'll probably avoid me for a couple days now, having everything so twisted up in her little head.
Funny, I didn't expect her to come back at all, especially after the throw down we had earlier. Always knew fighting made her wet, but still, figured she'd be all selfless, all good an' noble like.
Missing the bed, she slams us up against… oh bloody hell, I don't know what! Then we're crashing down to the floor again an' I can't help but wince as more bruises add to our earlier ones. I'm tempted to tell her to watch the crypt, but I hear her own hiss of pain as we fall an' don't I bloody know she's done herself damage!
Neither of us really cares whether the scratches, bites, an' bruises are from fightin' or shaggin'. They're not gonna be any more explainable, an' they'll heal just as quick. So, she can go back to the Scoobies an' pretend she's one of them, instead one of us; that her little world of black an' white really exists. That she doesn't get off just as much as I do on the pain.
But not tonight.
S'not like I planned on running into Buffy in the cemeteries, is just I needed to kill something as much as she did. Not rightly sure how it turned into a soddin' fist fight either. Course I've never been one to turn down fighting a Slayer, especially this one, but it was a little out of the blue when I rounded the corner an' she full on belted me!
Now that I've got my bite back, with her at least, she takes out all her self-loathing on me. Feels she doesn't need a reason to try an' beat me up anymore. Sometimes I bloody take it, like some stupid nancy-boy ponce, sometimes I don't.
Tonight I'm not going to stand by an' be her bleedin' punching bag! "Slayer, you were out of line before, an' you damn well know it"
"You're a disgusting, neutered, THING!" An' after taking me all unaware like, cow has the nerve to insult me! "Stay away from me, Spike," punctuating her words with fists to my body.
Funny, when we're actually fighting, like this, no holds barred, fighting, we never notice the damage done to ourselves. I notice when my kick sends her reeling over a headstone, know she'll be sore in the mornin', but she doesn't so much as wince. 'Spose she knows when her punches give me a black eye, but I only notice that the swelling is messing with my vision.
There's something so primal about our fights, that I'm never quite sure which way is up. She knows I won't kill her, I couldn't, and I know she can't kill me, but everything else is free game. Words and fists fly, along with any makeshift weapons, and we tussle it all out.
It'd be bloody beautiful, perfect, if she wouldn't get so disgusted with herself afterwards. Not over the fightin', mind you, over the shaggin'. I wouldn't mind if we went at it after a good fight, cause we've gotten all the hate out. An' there is hate, sometimes I bleedin' hate the chit, an' I know there's times she hates me. Difference is, at the end of the night, I still love her, an' she's convinced herself she still hates me.
I can tell you how it starts, the fights, just never quite how they end. Usually one of us has 'ad enough damage (usually me) that we finally pull back an' realize how much soddin' pain we're in! This time I've actually got the upper hand when I realize that I'm pounding her into a wall so hard that there's a Slayer-shaped dent in the bricks.
I pause for a minute, confused at how we can still do this, how I can hurt her so much without noticing. That's all the time she needs, spinning me 'round an' pulling away.
She screams back at me, "You're beneath me," an' then she's gone.
Funny how that all works out.
Sure it'd be more then a little absurd to say we're bleedin' peaceful in the sack, but tonight is nothing short of brutal. It's like we took a few hours to recoup, nurse our wounds, an' now we're back at the fight.
There's been something off with her all day, with both of us, an' I don't like the feel of it. Her eyes are wilder then I've seen in a fair bit, and I'm no soddin' kitten either. Still, I don't like that look, can't help but wonder how things went with the Wanker Scoobies today.
I wish she'd just out an' tell me, but she only allows us to communicate through violence. An' I thought Dru had a thing about pain!
Flipping her over, I pound into her, an' I can tell she's close. I'm close too, the only moment of peace we ever get together anymore. I remember when she used to tell me things, we used to talk; now all we do is fight. Bedroom or battlefield, it's always been like that for me, all my life; dominate or be dominated. Slayer's really got her pretty little world all screwed up into the darkness, it's like she found out that she had a dark side an' it just consumes her sometimes.
Suddenly her eyes open an' she looks up straight at me, eyes are sad I think, close to tears. Then the stupid bint does it, whispers, "I'm in love with you, Spike. I love you."
Cor, how long have I wanted to hear her say that? The words "I love you too, Buffy," come out, but then she's crushed my head to her an' I'm pressing kisses to her neck.
Everything's a blur as we both reach that moment, an' heaven help me, my demon surfaces. 'S happened before, but she's using all her Slayer strength to hold my head to her neck, and my fangs slip into her throat the second they emerge.
Never thought I could really hurt her but in that one moment, I don't want to pull away, I can't. Then Buffy starts to struggle, whatever insane thing possessed her a moment ago more then gone. Thing is it's too late, because I can feel her weakening, feel my demon taking over, the high of Slayer blood. I'm killing her, she's dying; I can taste it, inside of her, right there.
Death.
Finally caught up with her, it did, an' for that one moment, she wanted to die. One moment was all it took, an' I had myself,
One. Real. Good. Day.
Author's Notes: What can I say; I have no idea where these story ideas come from. Uh, let's see, hopefully, this is short, and decidedly finished. I feel like this will be my entrance into the S/B writing fandom, because for all my unfinished pieces I don't really feel a part of a genre until I've completed something in it. About the actual story, well, I don't want to give it away, but what can I say, I spend too much time online reading too much fanfic and challenges and quotes, then I go to bed. Around 1am when I can't fricking get to sleep, inspiration hits (or insomnia, you pick) and I come up with things such as this.
Summary: It was just one of those days. Just one moment, in one day, that changed everything for Spike and Buffy.
Rated: R (for violence, suggestiveness, and naughty words;)
Reviews: What would any author do without them? Curl up in a little ball convinced their writing sucked. So, if it DOES suck, go on, tell me, you know you wanna, it just irked you enough! If it doesn't, well feed the fragile ego of an author, and get more yummy stories!
Date Started/Finished: March 1st 2003
By ~Delenn~
It was one of those days where the heavens clash jet black with streaks of lightening; where the sky an' seas might as well be running bloody red. Where all the bleedin' powers in the universe get together an' decide, 'Hey, we're going to make your life soddin' hell!'
Have you ever had one of those days? Where if just one thing had gone right it wouldn't have all gone so horribly wrong?
I did, once. Damn near killed me, that day did.
An' I wish it had.
Waking up with Buffy next to me never ceases to amaze me. It's usually short lived, but each time it happens, I can't help but bloody hope she'll stay for a bit. "Mornin', luv."
She was awake before I said anything, but now I feel her body stiffen. The very soddin' idea of waking up with me repulses her, or so she's gone and convinced herself. "Spike," the way she says my name, pretending that she doesn't care, it drives me 'round the bend.
An' there we go, she's up and getting dressed, back to me the whole time, can't bare to face me. I'm well aware that I should keep my bleedin' mouth shut, but it's hard with her leaving, again. Sometimes I think maybe I should just leave, see if she misses me at night when nobody's 'round to see us. "What's a'matter, pet? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"
Buffy spins toward me, her pants and bra already on an' clutching her shirt to her chest. She spits out, "See, the funny thing is, I don't remember going to sleep IN a bed!"
Now that's nothing short of ridiculous, "You were getting cold an' I figured moving to the bed would be easiest. Don't get your knickers in a knot, Slayer, you were asleep."
"That's the thing, Spike," she's giving me her 'holier then thou' look again, never a good thing. "You moved me, and I didn't wake up… you could… I can't… Dawn's going to be home soon, I have to go."
That's downright offending, it is. That she would think that I would… I love her, damn it! Why can't the stupid bint see that? "Don't have to make it sound so dirty, Slayer. We do dirty enough things when we're both awake."
Her face pales, an' apparently I've just reminded her what a 'mistake' this all is. Bullocks! But now she's gone, slamming my poor, abused, crypt door. I get out of bed, more then a little annoyed, another perfect chance to start the day ruined! Slayer'll probably avoid me for a couple days now, having everything so twisted up in her little head.
Funny, I didn't expect her to come back at all, especially after the throw down we had earlier. Always knew fighting made her wet, but still, figured she'd be all selfless, all good an' noble like.
Missing the bed, she slams us up against… oh bloody hell, I don't know what! Then we're crashing down to the floor again an' I can't help but wince as more bruises add to our earlier ones. I'm tempted to tell her to watch the crypt, but I hear her own hiss of pain as we fall an' don't I bloody know she's done herself damage!
Neither of us really cares whether the scratches, bites, an' bruises are from fightin' or shaggin'. They're not gonna be any more explainable, an' they'll heal just as quick. So, she can go back to the Scoobies an' pretend she's one of them, instead one of us; that her little world of black an' white really exists. That she doesn't get off just as much as I do on the pain.
But not tonight.
S'not like I planned on running into Buffy in the cemeteries, is just I needed to kill something as much as she did. Not rightly sure how it turned into a soddin' fist fight either. Course I've never been one to turn down fighting a Slayer, especially this one, but it was a little out of the blue when I rounded the corner an' she full on belted me!
Now that I've got my bite back, with her at least, she takes out all her self-loathing on me. Feels she doesn't need a reason to try an' beat me up anymore. Sometimes I bloody take it, like some stupid nancy-boy ponce, sometimes I don't.
Tonight I'm not going to stand by an' be her bleedin' punching bag! "Slayer, you were out of line before, an' you damn well know it"
"You're a disgusting, neutered, THING!" An' after taking me all unaware like, cow has the nerve to insult me! "Stay away from me, Spike," punctuating her words with fists to my body.
Funny, when we're actually fighting, like this, no holds barred, fighting, we never notice the damage done to ourselves. I notice when my kick sends her reeling over a headstone, know she'll be sore in the mornin', but she doesn't so much as wince. 'Spose she knows when her punches give me a black eye, but I only notice that the swelling is messing with my vision.
There's something so primal about our fights, that I'm never quite sure which way is up. She knows I won't kill her, I couldn't, and I know she can't kill me, but everything else is free game. Words and fists fly, along with any makeshift weapons, and we tussle it all out.
It'd be bloody beautiful, perfect, if she wouldn't get so disgusted with herself afterwards. Not over the fightin', mind you, over the shaggin'. I wouldn't mind if we went at it after a good fight, cause we've gotten all the hate out. An' there is hate, sometimes I bleedin' hate the chit, an' I know there's times she hates me. Difference is, at the end of the night, I still love her, an' she's convinced herself she still hates me.
I can tell you how it starts, the fights, just never quite how they end. Usually one of us has 'ad enough damage (usually me) that we finally pull back an' realize how much soddin' pain we're in! This time I've actually got the upper hand when I realize that I'm pounding her into a wall so hard that there's a Slayer-shaped dent in the bricks.
I pause for a minute, confused at how we can still do this, how I can hurt her so much without noticing. That's all the time she needs, spinning me 'round an' pulling away.
She screams back at me, "You're beneath me," an' then she's gone.
Funny how that all works out.
Sure it'd be more then a little absurd to say we're bleedin' peaceful in the sack, but tonight is nothing short of brutal. It's like we took a few hours to recoup, nurse our wounds, an' now we're back at the fight.
There's been something off with her all day, with both of us, an' I don't like the feel of it. Her eyes are wilder then I've seen in a fair bit, and I'm no soddin' kitten either. Still, I don't like that look, can't help but wonder how things went with the Wanker Scoobies today.
I wish she'd just out an' tell me, but she only allows us to communicate through violence. An' I thought Dru had a thing about pain!
Flipping her over, I pound into her, an' I can tell she's close. I'm close too, the only moment of peace we ever get together anymore. I remember when she used to tell me things, we used to talk; now all we do is fight. Bedroom or battlefield, it's always been like that for me, all my life; dominate or be dominated. Slayer's really got her pretty little world all screwed up into the darkness, it's like she found out that she had a dark side an' it just consumes her sometimes.
Suddenly her eyes open an' she looks up straight at me, eyes are sad I think, close to tears. Then the stupid bint does it, whispers, "I'm in love with you, Spike. I love you."
Cor, how long have I wanted to hear her say that? The words "I love you too, Buffy," come out, but then she's crushed my head to her an' I'm pressing kisses to her neck.
Everything's a blur as we both reach that moment, an' heaven help me, my demon surfaces. 'S happened before, but she's using all her Slayer strength to hold my head to her neck, and my fangs slip into her throat the second they emerge.
Never thought I could really hurt her but in that one moment, I don't want to pull away, I can't. Then Buffy starts to struggle, whatever insane thing possessed her a moment ago more then gone. Thing is it's too late, because I can feel her weakening, feel my demon taking over, the high of Slayer blood. I'm killing her, she's dying; I can taste it, inside of her, right there.
Death.
Finally caught up with her, it did, an' for that one moment, she wanted to die. One moment was all it took, an' I had myself,