Author's note: This story and its contents are the property of Rebecca
Graves, and may not be reproduced or published without the written consent
of the author. (please! if you want to post this fic somewhere, email me at
dayetriper@sbcglobal.net and ask my permission first)
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, yadda yadda yadda... I only borrow, I promise I'll give them back when I'm done! :-)
Spoilers: See story description; through Season Six. Doesn't spoil Season 7, but may spoil A:tS Season 4 in chapters 6 and after, so be warned... on to the story!!!!!!
Author's Note: HEY BUFFY FANS!!! Help our voices be heard regarding Buffy! Fill out the Buffy survey at the link in my author profile, and let the world know how your love of all things Buffy has affected your life! Do it today!
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Slowly, Willow came to the realization that the water pouring down on her from the showerhead was cold. She stepped back from the spray and reached down to turn off the water, her hands trembling as she turned off the faucets. She slid back the curtain and pulled her robe on over her dripping wet form. Carefully, she stepped out of the shower and made her way to the sink to blow out the candles, not bothering to turn on the lights. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair hung limp and wet around her face, the red darkened by the water so that it looked like blood. Her lips had a slight bluish hue from the cold water; how long had she been in the shower? At least a half hour, maybe longer... She picked up her hairbrush from the sink and walked to the window to close it.
A dark figure was standing in the yard, face upturned to the rain. Rain? When had it started to rain? It had been a clear night when she'd stepped into the shower... It occurred to her that in her grief, she'd let the magicks slip from her unchecked; she cautioned herself, but wasn't too worried. Since the ordeal with Tara, and Warren, she hadn't the heart to use her powers anymore; it wasn't as if they'd do her any good, so why bother?
She snapped out of her reverie and was surprised to see that the figure she'd spotted had disappeared. A small chill ran down her back. Who could it have been? It had appeared to be watching the window she now stood at, but why hadn't it moved when she'd appeared? Quickly, she pulled the window panes closed and locked the latch, then made her way to the bedroom, checking the windows as she passed them to make sure they were secure. Better to be safe. And besides, Buffy and Dawn should be back soon; she'd ask them if they'd see anything unusual around the neighborhood on their way home.
Still, she'd felt no sense of menace coming from the figure... rather, it had seemed to be at peace. Willow turned on her bedside lamp and sat down on the bed, running the brush through her damp hair. If only she could know peace...
She started as she heard the front door open downstairs, and her grip tightened on the hairbrush. She could feel the beginnings of her power begin to swirl just beneath the surface of her skin; the dry ends of her hair crackled in the electricity building up around her. If somehow the intruder had gotten into the house...
"Will? Are you home?" Buffy called up the stairs.
Willow sighed with relief; the field around her dispersed as suddenly as it had formed; her grip on her brush loosened. "I just got out of the shower; I'll be down in a sec." She slid on the soft flannel pajama shirt and pants she'd lain on the bed before her shower, and shook her head to let the air dry her hair a bit, then padded down the hall to the stairs.
"Hey, Will," called Dawn from the downstairs hall. "Too bad you didn't come along tonight, there was a seriously time-warped group of vamps that Sis and I had to take out. You shoulda seen these guys, they were totally stuck in the 80's," she giggled.
"Which inspired us to stop on the way home and rent some movies," Buffy chimed in, walking up behind her sister. "What do you want to watch first, 'Sixteen Candles' or 'Pretty in Pink'?"
Willow smiled and started down the steps, inwardly giving a small cringe. "How about you two change into something less... *poof*-dusty -- and I'll start on the popcorn?"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
"You see, there's this guy Jake, and I really like him, and he doesn't even know I exist," Molly Ringwald lamented on the small TV screen in the dark crypt. The light from the screen flickered, casting long shadows over the figure in the worn, comfortable chair.
Clem tossed a handful of Bugles into his mouth, and reached for his bottle of soda. Man, how lucky was he that the local Sunnydale station was airing an 80's teen movie marathon tonight? That Molly Ringwald was really a looker in her day... His eyes moistened slightly as the on-screen father gave his teen daughter a cheering-up speech, telling her that if that boy Jake couldn't see what a beautiful, special girl she was, then he didn't deserve her anyway. That part got him every time.
Suddenly, the crypt door slammed open. Clem jumped out of the chair, Bugles flying through the air as he reached for the stake sitting atop the television.
"Sorry, pal, no vacancies!" he cried as he spun around, then stopped short as the figure stumbled into the light of the TV.
"Spike? Buddy? Is that you? You're back!" he called out happily, then realized how awful his friend looked. "Are you all right? Can I get you something? Your pad's just as you left it; I've even been keeping a supply of fresh blood in the fridge for when you got back."
The vampire's face was paler than ever as he fell into the chair Clem had vacated, and he nodded with all the strength he could muster. "Yeah..." he croaked. "Sounds good, mate..."
"Right away, pal," Clem answered as he hurried to the fridge and grabbed the most recent bottle he'd stocked, opening it as he made his way back to Spike. "Want me to heat it up for --"
The vampire snatched it out of his hands and brought it to his mouth, gulping it down in three or four swallows, then passing the back of one hand across his lips. "That's better," he muttered, his voice not as shaky as it had been a moment before, but obviously still quavering.
Clem watched in astonishment. "Man, what happened to you?" he asked quietly. "I didn't think I was going to be able to defend this place forever, it's choice property... Where've you been for the last two months?"
Spike gazed at the pretty girl with the short red hair on his television screen, then glanced up to Clem.
"Bring me a refill, mate, and we can swap stories, yeah? I want to know what I've missed while I was away..." he replied, his eyes sliding back to the redhead on the screen.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
***TBC*** Please review and let me know what you think!!! Thanks!
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, yadda yadda yadda... I only borrow, I promise I'll give them back when I'm done! :-)
Spoilers: See story description; through Season Six. Doesn't spoil Season 7, but may spoil A:tS Season 4 in chapters 6 and after, so be warned... on to the story!!!!!!
Author's Note: HEY BUFFY FANS!!! Help our voices be heard regarding Buffy! Fill out the Buffy survey at the link in my author profile, and let the world know how your love of all things Buffy has affected your life! Do it today!
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Slowly, Willow came to the realization that the water pouring down on her from the showerhead was cold. She stepped back from the spray and reached down to turn off the water, her hands trembling as she turned off the faucets. She slid back the curtain and pulled her robe on over her dripping wet form. Carefully, she stepped out of the shower and made her way to the sink to blow out the candles, not bothering to turn on the lights. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair hung limp and wet around her face, the red darkened by the water so that it looked like blood. Her lips had a slight bluish hue from the cold water; how long had she been in the shower? At least a half hour, maybe longer... She picked up her hairbrush from the sink and walked to the window to close it.
A dark figure was standing in the yard, face upturned to the rain. Rain? When had it started to rain? It had been a clear night when she'd stepped into the shower... It occurred to her that in her grief, she'd let the magicks slip from her unchecked; she cautioned herself, but wasn't too worried. Since the ordeal with Tara, and Warren, she hadn't the heart to use her powers anymore; it wasn't as if they'd do her any good, so why bother?
She snapped out of her reverie and was surprised to see that the figure she'd spotted had disappeared. A small chill ran down her back. Who could it have been? It had appeared to be watching the window she now stood at, but why hadn't it moved when she'd appeared? Quickly, she pulled the window panes closed and locked the latch, then made her way to the bedroom, checking the windows as she passed them to make sure they were secure. Better to be safe. And besides, Buffy and Dawn should be back soon; she'd ask them if they'd see anything unusual around the neighborhood on their way home.
Still, she'd felt no sense of menace coming from the figure... rather, it had seemed to be at peace. Willow turned on her bedside lamp and sat down on the bed, running the brush through her damp hair. If only she could know peace...
She started as she heard the front door open downstairs, and her grip tightened on the hairbrush. She could feel the beginnings of her power begin to swirl just beneath the surface of her skin; the dry ends of her hair crackled in the electricity building up around her. If somehow the intruder had gotten into the house...
"Will? Are you home?" Buffy called up the stairs.
Willow sighed with relief; the field around her dispersed as suddenly as it had formed; her grip on her brush loosened. "I just got out of the shower; I'll be down in a sec." She slid on the soft flannel pajama shirt and pants she'd lain on the bed before her shower, and shook her head to let the air dry her hair a bit, then padded down the hall to the stairs.
"Hey, Will," called Dawn from the downstairs hall. "Too bad you didn't come along tonight, there was a seriously time-warped group of vamps that Sis and I had to take out. You shoulda seen these guys, they were totally stuck in the 80's," she giggled.
"Which inspired us to stop on the way home and rent some movies," Buffy chimed in, walking up behind her sister. "What do you want to watch first, 'Sixteen Candles' or 'Pretty in Pink'?"
Willow smiled and started down the steps, inwardly giving a small cringe. "How about you two change into something less... *poof*-dusty -- and I'll start on the popcorn?"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
"You see, there's this guy Jake, and I really like him, and he doesn't even know I exist," Molly Ringwald lamented on the small TV screen in the dark crypt. The light from the screen flickered, casting long shadows over the figure in the worn, comfortable chair.
Clem tossed a handful of Bugles into his mouth, and reached for his bottle of soda. Man, how lucky was he that the local Sunnydale station was airing an 80's teen movie marathon tonight? That Molly Ringwald was really a looker in her day... His eyes moistened slightly as the on-screen father gave his teen daughter a cheering-up speech, telling her that if that boy Jake couldn't see what a beautiful, special girl she was, then he didn't deserve her anyway. That part got him every time.
Suddenly, the crypt door slammed open. Clem jumped out of the chair, Bugles flying through the air as he reached for the stake sitting atop the television.
"Sorry, pal, no vacancies!" he cried as he spun around, then stopped short as the figure stumbled into the light of the TV.
"Spike? Buddy? Is that you? You're back!" he called out happily, then realized how awful his friend looked. "Are you all right? Can I get you something? Your pad's just as you left it; I've even been keeping a supply of fresh blood in the fridge for when you got back."
The vampire's face was paler than ever as he fell into the chair Clem had vacated, and he nodded with all the strength he could muster. "Yeah..." he croaked. "Sounds good, mate..."
"Right away, pal," Clem answered as he hurried to the fridge and grabbed the most recent bottle he'd stocked, opening it as he made his way back to Spike. "Want me to heat it up for --"
The vampire snatched it out of his hands and brought it to his mouth, gulping it down in three or four swallows, then passing the back of one hand across his lips. "That's better," he muttered, his voice not as shaky as it had been a moment before, but obviously still quavering.
Clem watched in astonishment. "Man, what happened to you?" he asked quietly. "I didn't think I was going to be able to defend this place forever, it's choice property... Where've you been for the last two months?"
Spike gazed at the pretty girl with the short red hair on his television screen, then glanced up to Clem.
"Bring me a refill, mate, and we can swap stories, yeah? I want to know what I've missed while I was away..." he replied, his eyes sliding back to the redhead on the screen.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
***TBC*** Please review and let me know what you think!!! Thanks!