Hey. The rating may go up to 'R', and I'm thinking of bringing disturbing
subject matter into it, so it's just a pre-warning. Thanks as always for
the reads and reviews.
* * * * * *
Giles was on his couch, drinking his morning tea. Everything had been so quiet lately, which was good, but it didn't do much for entertainment.
He heard a knock on his door and as he walked over to answer it, he wished under his breath that it would be someone with a problem that could only be solved by him.
He opened the door to see Buffy.
"Buffy-bot," He said. "Is everything alright?"
Buffy looked around Giles apartment. His house was the same old good house. Lots of books. And he was drinking tea.
"It's me, Giles," she said slowly.
Giles took his glasses off. "But…how…"
"Willow," Buffy said with a forced smile. "Willow did a spell. And she brought me back."
"Are you alright?"
Buffy ignored the question. "Do you know about the new slayer?"
"Yes."
"So can I quit?"
"What?"
"Can I quit? Can I not be the slayer anymore…can I be normal."
"That would be impossible. You'll always be extraodinary."
"You sound like you're trying to pick me up…"
Giles coughed at the really disturbing thought. "Well, that's certainly not my intention…"
"I know," Buffy said, coming in and taking a seat on Giles' couch. "So what's happened?"
"Nothing really. We've been patrolling, and although we were a sad excuse for a replacement slayer, we kept Sunnydale safe from harm. And now we have this new slayer…"
"Are you going to train her?" Buffy asked, looking at the texture of the sofa.
"I offered, but she refused…I think she likes to work alone."
"What I wouldn't give…" Buffy sighed.
"What?"
"What I wouldn't give for a nice cup of Earl Grey!" Buffy said quickly. "Gosh Giles, the whole time I was dead, all I could think about was your tea!"
"I see you've retained your sarcasm and biting humor."
"It's how I live," Buffy said and made her way to Giles' kitchen, trying desperately to keep her tears from forming.
* * *
Dawn was trying to make eggs. She'd learned how to do it in her home economics class, but it just wasn't the same without a teacher looking over her shoulder, making sure she did it right.
She wanted tonight to be special. She knew that eggs weren't exactly a delicacy, but she was making them just for Buffy. Tonight would be just her and Buffy…she couldn't wait to see her sister again
The back door opened.
"Buffy!" She ran to greet her. "You're home!"
"Yeah, I gotta pick up my weapons before I patrol." Buffy smelled food in the air. "You making eggs, Dawnie?"
"Yeah. You want them?"
"Oh, Dawn, I so would, but I gotta get out there…eat them for me?"
Buffy ran out of the kitchen to get to her weapons.
"But I made them for you," Dawn said to the empty room.
* * *
Buffy walked slowly through the streets of Sunnydale. The truth was, she had no desire at all to patrol. She just needed to get out of that house. It was so…suffocating. Wherever she had been, she was free. It was never- ending. And she missed it.
When she crossed in front of Spike's crypt, she stopped. Spike was dead. His presence was comforting in the way of a puppy. 'God, he would kill me for that analogy,' she thought to herself. But it was true. He was just a presence in her life…If he put her in danger, she wouldn't necessarily fight it. She couldn't explain it…Spike was more alive than she was.
She walked in quietly. She wasn't too sure she actually did want to see Spike. She heard a soft sobbing coming from the corner and walked over to it. When she finally got close, she realized what 'it' was.
"Spike?" She exclaimed. "You're crying?"
Spike quickly rubbed his tears from his eyes. "No, no. I don't cry. I'm evil, remember?"
"As evil as a puppy…"
Spike shot her an angry glare. "You take that back!"
"Ok, I'm deathly afraid…"
"None of that sarcastic shit now…"
"You always loved my sarcasm…"
Spike was about to yell at Buffy for continuously cracking on him, but he realized there was no sarcasm in her voice. She sounded almost…nostalgic.
"Spike," she said seriously. "Would you have brought me back?"
"No," Spike said, looking at her still-bloody-but healing-hands. "I couldn't risk it. I especially wouldn't have left you in your bloody grave…"
"Why?"
"Because…because as much as you'd rather not hear it, I love you. I wouldn't want to make it worse…if I brought you back, I might have to send you right back to hell, and I bloody well can't do that…"
Buffy looked at Spike. Out of everyone she knew, maybe he loved her the most. Her 'friends' brought her back when they didn't even need her.
"I don't know about this new slayer…" she said.
"I don't like her," Spike said. "She tried to stake me."
Buffy giggled. "Well then it sounds like she won't be working for the mayor."
"Very funny, pet." Spike said, rolling his eyes. "In my mind, you're always the best slayer. You don't kill the harmless, and you can tell the difference. That's a gift."
"So where's the 'returns' counter?"
"Treasure it, slayer. It's who you are."
"Who I am?" Buffy suddenly burst out at him. "Who I am is also a robot! And the whole 'chosen one' thing? Not true anymore. There's a bunch of slayers out there. Nobody needs me."
"Yes," Spike said softly as he stared into her eyes. "We do need you."
"Why couldn't they let me go?"
"Pet, you were in hell! You want to stay there for eternity?"
"No," she said quietly. "That's not where I was. I'm not sure where I was, but it was so much better than here. I was warm, and loved…everything was perfect…I was done with my duties here on earth…I was happy…."
Spike looked at her in shock. This was not good. The slayer was hurting so much; he just wanted to make it better any way he could.
"Here…" she continued. "Here, everything is hard. And painful. And bright. They don't know…how could they? And I can't tell them…I'm walking around dead on earth...and I have to live like this alone…"
"Not alone," Spike said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I'll be with you. And I'll help you. Just tell me what you want."
Buffy took a deep breath…she couldn't believe she was really going to ask him this.
"Hold me?"
"Always, pet," Spike said as he cradled his arms around her and held her ever so tightly as she sobbed an ocean's worth of tears onto his shoulder. "Always."
* * *
Alexia awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, sweating profusely. She was having the dream again. She wished it would just go away. She didn't want to remember.
She got up, threw some clothes on, and went out for a walk. 'Hopefully a slay,' she thought to herself. Slaying always made her feel better.
She began to walk through the Sunnydale cemetery in hopes of raising her chances of catching some demons.
And then she saw the figure leaning against a gravestone. He was just begging to be killed, nevermind the irony that he was smoking a cigarette.
She got closer and closer, and when she was no more than 2 inches away, he turned around.
"Great," she sighed, dropping the stake. "Why do I even bother if all demons have turned into good Samaritans?"
"I'm not a bloody Good Samaritan!" Spike yelled. "I'm evil…"
Spike remembered that this slayer probably wanted to kill him.
"With a preventative chip!" he said quickly.
Alexia shook her head. "This town sucks! All I wanted was a kill. That's all I'm asking for, but no! I have to play nice-nice with the mechanically enhanced vampire!"
"You got issues up your sleeve, don't you…you sure YOU aren't gonna turn all evil on us?"
Alexia looked straight through Spike. "We're all evil."
"Not all. We're just not perfect."
"People are shit."
"They taste quite good actually…" Spike said. "Look, I'm no bloody shrink, but I think you need to deal with whatever's up your arse."
"You're a real big help," Alexia said sarcastically and walked away.
"You're welcome!" Spike shouted after her.
* * *
Alexia walked on through the cemetery until she had to stop. She sat in the cool wet grass. She knew it would create stains that would probably never come out, but she didn't care. Why hide the stains?
Her breathing slowed and became deeper. She should have killed Spike. Didn't his repulsive personality qualify him enough for being killed?
Tears began to form slowly down her cheeks. She wiped them away as soon as they came. Her watcher didn't let her cry. Not ever.
"You must remember, it is never acceptable for a strong woman like yourself to cry," he had said.
Well she remembered. She hoped Mr. Darroch was smiling in his filthy bed.
* * * * * *
Giles was on his couch, drinking his morning tea. Everything had been so quiet lately, which was good, but it didn't do much for entertainment.
He heard a knock on his door and as he walked over to answer it, he wished under his breath that it would be someone with a problem that could only be solved by him.
He opened the door to see Buffy.
"Buffy-bot," He said. "Is everything alright?"
Buffy looked around Giles apartment. His house was the same old good house. Lots of books. And he was drinking tea.
"It's me, Giles," she said slowly.
Giles took his glasses off. "But…how…"
"Willow," Buffy said with a forced smile. "Willow did a spell. And she brought me back."
"Are you alright?"
Buffy ignored the question. "Do you know about the new slayer?"
"Yes."
"So can I quit?"
"What?"
"Can I quit? Can I not be the slayer anymore…can I be normal."
"That would be impossible. You'll always be extraodinary."
"You sound like you're trying to pick me up…"
Giles coughed at the really disturbing thought. "Well, that's certainly not my intention…"
"I know," Buffy said, coming in and taking a seat on Giles' couch. "So what's happened?"
"Nothing really. We've been patrolling, and although we were a sad excuse for a replacement slayer, we kept Sunnydale safe from harm. And now we have this new slayer…"
"Are you going to train her?" Buffy asked, looking at the texture of the sofa.
"I offered, but she refused…I think she likes to work alone."
"What I wouldn't give…" Buffy sighed.
"What?"
"What I wouldn't give for a nice cup of Earl Grey!" Buffy said quickly. "Gosh Giles, the whole time I was dead, all I could think about was your tea!"
"I see you've retained your sarcasm and biting humor."
"It's how I live," Buffy said and made her way to Giles' kitchen, trying desperately to keep her tears from forming.
* * *
Dawn was trying to make eggs. She'd learned how to do it in her home economics class, but it just wasn't the same without a teacher looking over her shoulder, making sure she did it right.
She wanted tonight to be special. She knew that eggs weren't exactly a delicacy, but she was making them just for Buffy. Tonight would be just her and Buffy…she couldn't wait to see her sister again
The back door opened.
"Buffy!" She ran to greet her. "You're home!"
"Yeah, I gotta pick up my weapons before I patrol." Buffy smelled food in the air. "You making eggs, Dawnie?"
"Yeah. You want them?"
"Oh, Dawn, I so would, but I gotta get out there…eat them for me?"
Buffy ran out of the kitchen to get to her weapons.
"But I made them for you," Dawn said to the empty room.
* * *
Buffy walked slowly through the streets of Sunnydale. The truth was, she had no desire at all to patrol. She just needed to get out of that house. It was so…suffocating. Wherever she had been, she was free. It was never- ending. And she missed it.
When she crossed in front of Spike's crypt, she stopped. Spike was dead. His presence was comforting in the way of a puppy. 'God, he would kill me for that analogy,' she thought to herself. But it was true. He was just a presence in her life…If he put her in danger, she wouldn't necessarily fight it. She couldn't explain it…Spike was more alive than she was.
She walked in quietly. She wasn't too sure she actually did want to see Spike. She heard a soft sobbing coming from the corner and walked over to it. When she finally got close, she realized what 'it' was.
"Spike?" She exclaimed. "You're crying?"
Spike quickly rubbed his tears from his eyes. "No, no. I don't cry. I'm evil, remember?"
"As evil as a puppy…"
Spike shot her an angry glare. "You take that back!"
"Ok, I'm deathly afraid…"
"None of that sarcastic shit now…"
"You always loved my sarcasm…"
Spike was about to yell at Buffy for continuously cracking on him, but he realized there was no sarcasm in her voice. She sounded almost…nostalgic.
"Spike," she said seriously. "Would you have brought me back?"
"No," Spike said, looking at her still-bloody-but healing-hands. "I couldn't risk it. I especially wouldn't have left you in your bloody grave…"
"Why?"
"Because…because as much as you'd rather not hear it, I love you. I wouldn't want to make it worse…if I brought you back, I might have to send you right back to hell, and I bloody well can't do that…"
Buffy looked at Spike. Out of everyone she knew, maybe he loved her the most. Her 'friends' brought her back when they didn't even need her.
"I don't know about this new slayer…" she said.
"I don't like her," Spike said. "She tried to stake me."
Buffy giggled. "Well then it sounds like she won't be working for the mayor."
"Very funny, pet." Spike said, rolling his eyes. "In my mind, you're always the best slayer. You don't kill the harmless, and you can tell the difference. That's a gift."
"So where's the 'returns' counter?"
"Treasure it, slayer. It's who you are."
"Who I am?" Buffy suddenly burst out at him. "Who I am is also a robot! And the whole 'chosen one' thing? Not true anymore. There's a bunch of slayers out there. Nobody needs me."
"Yes," Spike said softly as he stared into her eyes. "We do need you."
"Why couldn't they let me go?"
"Pet, you were in hell! You want to stay there for eternity?"
"No," she said quietly. "That's not where I was. I'm not sure where I was, but it was so much better than here. I was warm, and loved…everything was perfect…I was done with my duties here on earth…I was happy…."
Spike looked at her in shock. This was not good. The slayer was hurting so much; he just wanted to make it better any way he could.
"Here…" she continued. "Here, everything is hard. And painful. And bright. They don't know…how could they? And I can't tell them…I'm walking around dead on earth...and I have to live like this alone…"
"Not alone," Spike said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I'll be with you. And I'll help you. Just tell me what you want."
Buffy took a deep breath…she couldn't believe she was really going to ask him this.
"Hold me?"
"Always, pet," Spike said as he cradled his arms around her and held her ever so tightly as she sobbed an ocean's worth of tears onto his shoulder. "Always."
* * *
Alexia awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, sweating profusely. She was having the dream again. She wished it would just go away. She didn't want to remember.
She got up, threw some clothes on, and went out for a walk. 'Hopefully a slay,' she thought to herself. Slaying always made her feel better.
She began to walk through the Sunnydale cemetery in hopes of raising her chances of catching some demons.
And then she saw the figure leaning against a gravestone. He was just begging to be killed, nevermind the irony that he was smoking a cigarette.
She got closer and closer, and when she was no more than 2 inches away, he turned around.
"Great," she sighed, dropping the stake. "Why do I even bother if all demons have turned into good Samaritans?"
"I'm not a bloody Good Samaritan!" Spike yelled. "I'm evil…"
Spike remembered that this slayer probably wanted to kill him.
"With a preventative chip!" he said quickly.
Alexia shook her head. "This town sucks! All I wanted was a kill. That's all I'm asking for, but no! I have to play nice-nice with the mechanically enhanced vampire!"
"You got issues up your sleeve, don't you…you sure YOU aren't gonna turn all evil on us?"
Alexia looked straight through Spike. "We're all evil."
"Not all. We're just not perfect."
"People are shit."
"They taste quite good actually…" Spike said. "Look, I'm no bloody shrink, but I think you need to deal with whatever's up your arse."
"You're a real big help," Alexia said sarcastically and walked away.
"You're welcome!" Spike shouted after her.
* * *
Alexia walked on through the cemetery until she had to stop. She sat in the cool wet grass. She knew it would create stains that would probably never come out, but she didn't care. Why hide the stains?
Her breathing slowed and became deeper. She should have killed Spike. Didn't his repulsive personality qualify him enough for being killed?
Tears began to form slowly down her cheeks. She wiped them away as soon as they came. Her watcher didn't let her cry. Not ever.
"You must remember, it is never acceptable for a strong woman like yourself to cry," he had said.
Well she remembered. She hoped Mr. Darroch was smiling in his filthy bed.