Title: Return
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Like I could create these guys.
All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: A Spike-centric alternative ending (which you can bet will never happen) for Ep. 22 of this season, incorporating many (though not all) recent spoilers. The end of BtVS, and the beginning of The Spike Show.
DEFINITE SPOILER ALERT!!!
-------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 8. Love's Riddles
As they went down the stairs from her mother's bedroom, Spike grimaced.
"Well, it's a good defense; won't last long, though" he said.
"You don't think she's -- that she's just -- "
"Gone nuts? No fear. She'll remember. Just doesn't want to."
"I can understand that. I wish I didn't," Buffy said, half to herself. There were some things she'd rather not recall, too. A lot of things.
"Be a while before she gets what happened," Spike continued somberly. "First there'll be bits and pieces, then it'll all come back to her."
"I feel like I don't even know who she is," Buffy faltered. "She was my best friend. But I don't know what to do for her."
"Not much you can do. There's no physical damage, but she refuses to face what she did. It'll be bad when she does; no getting 'round that."
"It was like she couldn't wait to get rid of me." Buffy stood in the kitchen doorway and rubbed the back of her neck absently. She was still tired. Usually she could cope with lack of sleep, but today was already wearing her out, and it wasn't even noon yet.
"You should have some real breakfast before the doughnut van arrives," he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Keep your strength up."
"I will, if Dawn hasn't eaten the last scrap of food in the house." She pulled herself together, and decided to make ready for the influx of pastry by fixing more coffee.
"She's quite the growing girl," he said. "Think she'll ever stop?" Watching her potter about the kitchen seemed so natural. Spike remembered watching Joyce do much the same things, opening the same cabinets, filling the coffeepot at the sink. He had imagined being unremarkably welcome here a thousand times, chatting about Dawn, or ordinary everyday things, with no angst, or fear, or anger.
Unknowingly fulfilling his fantasies, Buffy poured the last of the milk on her cornflakes and groused, "She's about a foot taller than me already. It's hard to put your foot down with someone who looms."
"Hard to put your foot down with any of the Summers women," he said. "I never could."
Buffy put her spoon down, her heart beating faster as she looked at him. "Spike -- "
"Come on, love, eat up," he said. She noticed he was still leaning against the counter, heavily. Her chest tightened with sudden alarm. Oh, no! Nothing can happen to him now that I've got him back.
Dammit, it's true, she told herself, startled. I love Spike. I admit it. I love Spike. Happy now? And it's making me stand here arguing with myself like a looney.
She stared at him with some concern. "Are you all right? You're not sick or something, are you? This Watcher thingy you're doing isn't dangerous?"
He looked surprised. "Bit knackered, is all. Dimensional travel's no picnic at the best of times." These hadn't exactly been the best of times, he didn't say. She didn't need to know everything.
Buffy took charge. It felt good to know just what to do, although the practical thoughts she busied herself with couldn't drown out that voice underneath crooning dizzily, 'you love him, you love him, you know you do.' "You go sit down this minute," she said firmly, resisting the voice's call to just put her arms around him, and hustling him back to the living room. Relatively gently, she pushed him onto the sofa, and stood with her hands on her hips, studying his drawn face.
"What is the matter with you?" she said. "Why do I have to fall in love with the stupidest men on the face of the planet? Did you have anything to eat last night? Or were you just too busy showing off your mystical revelations?"
"Um -- " Spike looked up at her, rather dazed by this barrage, and speechless for once. He did feel a bit wilted. Now that she mentioned it, he had forgotten to eat, even though Clem had thoughtfully stocked his fridge with pig's blood and beer. Though even that hardly explained this curious languor; he hadn't felt this drained (so to speak) in years. Buffy stood before him quivering with righteousness and concern, neither of which he'd ever imagined would be applied to him, at least not with any favorable result. She looked so beautiful, so small and vibrant, and he'd been alone for what seemed like a very long time. He wasn't sure whether to fight for his dignity or just give up right off.
Wait a minute -- why did she have to what?
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Yet I would not have all yet,
He that hath all can have no more,
And since my love doth every day admit
New growth, thou shouldst have new rewards in store;
Thou canst not every day give me thy heart,
If thou canst give it, then thou never gavest it:
Loves riddles are, that though thy heart depart,
It stays at home, and thou with losing savest it:
But we will have a way more liberal,
Than changing hearts, to join them, so we shall
Be one, and one another's All."
John Donne
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Like I could create these guys.
All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: A Spike-centric alternative ending (which you can bet will never happen) for Ep. 22 of this season, incorporating many (though not all) recent spoilers. The end of BtVS, and the beginning of The Spike Show.
DEFINITE SPOILER ALERT!!!
-------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 8. Love's Riddles
As they went down the stairs from her mother's bedroom, Spike grimaced.
"Well, it's a good defense; won't last long, though" he said.
"You don't think she's -- that she's just -- "
"Gone nuts? No fear. She'll remember. Just doesn't want to."
"I can understand that. I wish I didn't," Buffy said, half to herself. There were some things she'd rather not recall, too. A lot of things.
"Be a while before she gets what happened," Spike continued somberly. "First there'll be bits and pieces, then it'll all come back to her."
"I feel like I don't even know who she is," Buffy faltered. "She was my best friend. But I don't know what to do for her."
"Not much you can do. There's no physical damage, but she refuses to face what she did. It'll be bad when she does; no getting 'round that."
"It was like she couldn't wait to get rid of me." Buffy stood in the kitchen doorway and rubbed the back of her neck absently. She was still tired. Usually she could cope with lack of sleep, but today was already wearing her out, and it wasn't even noon yet.
"You should have some real breakfast before the doughnut van arrives," he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Keep your strength up."
"I will, if Dawn hasn't eaten the last scrap of food in the house." She pulled herself together, and decided to make ready for the influx of pastry by fixing more coffee.
"She's quite the growing girl," he said. "Think she'll ever stop?" Watching her potter about the kitchen seemed so natural. Spike remembered watching Joyce do much the same things, opening the same cabinets, filling the coffeepot at the sink. He had imagined being unremarkably welcome here a thousand times, chatting about Dawn, or ordinary everyday things, with no angst, or fear, or anger.
Unknowingly fulfilling his fantasies, Buffy poured the last of the milk on her cornflakes and groused, "She's about a foot taller than me already. It's hard to put your foot down with someone who looms."
"Hard to put your foot down with any of the Summers women," he said. "I never could."
Buffy put her spoon down, her heart beating faster as she looked at him. "Spike -- "
"Come on, love, eat up," he said. She noticed he was still leaning against the counter, heavily. Her chest tightened with sudden alarm. Oh, no! Nothing can happen to him now that I've got him back.
Dammit, it's true, she told herself, startled. I love Spike. I admit it. I love Spike. Happy now? And it's making me stand here arguing with myself like a looney.
She stared at him with some concern. "Are you all right? You're not sick or something, are you? This Watcher thingy you're doing isn't dangerous?"
He looked surprised. "Bit knackered, is all. Dimensional travel's no picnic at the best of times." These hadn't exactly been the best of times, he didn't say. She didn't need to know everything.
Buffy took charge. It felt good to know just what to do, although the practical thoughts she busied herself with couldn't drown out that voice underneath crooning dizzily, 'you love him, you love him, you know you do.' "You go sit down this minute," she said firmly, resisting the voice's call to just put her arms around him, and hustling him back to the living room. Relatively gently, she pushed him onto the sofa, and stood with her hands on her hips, studying his drawn face.
"What is the matter with you?" she said. "Why do I have to fall in love with the stupidest men on the face of the planet? Did you have anything to eat last night? Or were you just too busy showing off your mystical revelations?"
"Um -- " Spike looked up at her, rather dazed by this barrage, and speechless for once. He did feel a bit wilted. Now that she mentioned it, he had forgotten to eat, even though Clem had thoughtfully stocked his fridge with pig's blood and beer. Though even that hardly explained this curious languor; he hadn't felt this drained (so to speak) in years. Buffy stood before him quivering with righteousness and concern, neither of which he'd ever imagined would be applied to him, at least not with any favorable result. She looked so beautiful, so small and vibrant, and he'd been alone for what seemed like a very long time. He wasn't sure whether to fight for his dignity or just give up right off.
Wait a minute -- why did she have to what?
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Yet I would not have all yet,
He that hath all can have no more,
And since my love doth every day admit
New growth, thou shouldst have new rewards in store;
Thou canst not every day give me thy heart,
If thou canst give it, then thou never gavest it:
Loves riddles are, that though thy heart depart,
It stays at home, and thou with losing savest it:
But we will have a way more liberal,
Than changing hearts, to join them, so we shall
Be one, and one another's All."
John Donne