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.
DEFINITELY SOME SPOILERS
-------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 9. Astonishment of Life
Just then, Giles and Dawn bustled in the front door with a cheerful commotion, bearing colorful boxes fragrant with fat and sugar. "Anyone for empty calories?" Dawn caroled.
Momentarily thrown off track, Buffy took a breath and came to a decision. She needed a few minutes to herself.
"You guys, Mr. Big Genius Demon Sorcerer here forgot to get anything to eat. So make him drink some coffee and I'll swing by the butcher's," she said briskly, grabbing her keys. "We talked to Willow for a few minutes -- she's not good, but she could be worse." She hurried out, with an apologetic glance at Spike.
"Spike! Why didn't you tell me you were hungry? Here, have doughnuts and I'll get your coffee." Dawn said importantly, heading for the kitchen.
Giles looked at Spike, who was admittedly paler than usual, although he looked oddly cheerful. "Well, you're for it now, you know. They've launched into full Florence Nightingale mode."
"Thought it'd keep 'em busy for a while," Spike said cockily, putting the best face on it.
"Strategy! Dear me. Now that is sly. I'm impressed." Giles leaned back in the armchair with a tired sigh, and selected a jelly doughnut filled with undefinable red stuff. "How is Willow?"
"In denial. Sunnydale special. She doesn't remember anything, for the moment. Wanted to go see Tara."
"Well, unless there's actual brain damage, she'll remember soon enough."
"That's when the bloody balloon will go up," Spike said morosely. "I put a sort of ward on her so she can't hurt herself, but she'll want to, all right -- and anybody who gets in her way." He grimaced. "Won't be pretty, Rupes."
"No." Actually, it didn't bear thinking of. Suddenly he had lost his appetite. "How exactly did you negate her power? That was very neatly done. Is it something specific, or can it be done with any magic user?"
"Simple, really -- "
Buffy always drove carefully through residential streets, but today caution was hardly needed. The town was almost deserted; even she couldn't have caused an accident. Instead of the usual flurry of Saturday morning shoppers and dog-walkers a beautiful sunny day attracted, she saw very few passers-by, and those who were out looked oddly listless. She spotted a few people sitting on park benches or even the curbside. No one looked ill, or particularly upset, and no ambulances or emergency vehicles appeared, but it all seemed very strange indeed -- if you could use that word in Sunnydale.
Oddly enough, her personal problem didn't seem like a problem anymore. Getting away from Spike's distracting presence just made things simpler. The little voice inside her singing 'you know you love him' over and over had convinced her without much difficulty. She loved Spike. She wanted Spike. And she didn't care what anyone said or thought about it. Ever. Now her strongest sensation (besides a physical yearning, which she hoped to assuage very soon) was of overwhelming relief. Struggling with herself had been harder than fighting any demon.
The butcher shop was empty, so her shopping took very little time. Returning home with a good supply of vampire chow, Buffy found a disconcertingly cozy picture. Giles and Spike were engrossed in the (literal, in this case) arcana of Watcher shoptalk. Dawn sat cross-legged on the floor beside Spike, contentedly reading the entertainment section of the morning paper. Amongst them, they had made a considerable dent in the doughnut supply.
Without disturbing her bizarre little family, Buffy stored bags of blood in the refrigerator, and took a microwaved mugful into the living room, setting it down beside Spike. She gave him a significant look, and felt a little tingle of satisfaction as he obediently drank it down without protest. Mission accomplished, for the moment. She ate a doughnut, and felt better.
The doorbell rang, and without even being asked Dawn got up to answer it. Xander and Anya were on the front porch. He supported her with an arm around her waist, and her wan face was pressed against his shoulder
"Can we come in?" he said uncertainly.
Dawn wordlessly opened the door wide, and Xander half-carried Anya into the living room and helped her to the sofa as the others rose. She looked dreadful, her face haggard and her hair disarrayed. Buffy couldn't remember ever having seen her dressed in sweats with no makeup before, and Xander, unshaven, with his dark eyes ringed with shadows, didn't look much better.
"I don't know what's wrong with her," he said in desperation. "It seems like she can barely move."
Giles felt her pulse, and touched her forehead briefly. Anya looked at him, but didn't speak, and her expression was terribly sad.
"Apparently," Giles said, pushing his glasses up, "Warren and Willow unintentionally caused an energy drain that's affecting all of us, not just those who were present, but everyone anywhere near the Hellmouth. Anya was linked to Willow, so it depleted her strength even more. We've all felt it." There were nods of agreement around the room. Buffy looked at Spike, her anxiety somewhat allayed. At least it wasn't something to do with his -- his condition.
"You must have noticed it, Xander," Giles went on. "Lethargy? Lassitude? Unusual exhaustion?"
Xander ran his hand over his face dispiritedly. "If you mean this grinding ache right down to my bones, that's how I've felt that since she left," he said.
"Anya's probably not in danger," Giles said. "She just needs rest, as we all do."
"Do you think I should get her to a doctor or something?"
"It's hard to see how you could explain the situation, exactly," Giles began. "Unless -- wait a moment. There might be another solution. Spike?"
The two Watchers exchanged a steady look. Xander stared from one to the other, puzzled.
Spike twitched an eyebrow. "Think now's really the time, Rupert?"
Giles said briskly, "Let's give it a try, shall we?"
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"The astonishment of life, is, the absence of any appearance of reconciliation between the theory and the practice of life."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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.
DEFINITELY SOME SPOILERS
-------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 9. Astonishment of Life
Just then, Giles and Dawn bustled in the front door with a cheerful commotion, bearing colorful boxes fragrant with fat and sugar. "Anyone for empty calories?" Dawn caroled.
Momentarily thrown off track, Buffy took a breath and came to a decision. She needed a few minutes to herself.
"You guys, Mr. Big Genius Demon Sorcerer here forgot to get anything to eat. So make him drink some coffee and I'll swing by the butcher's," she said briskly, grabbing her keys. "We talked to Willow for a few minutes -- she's not good, but she could be worse." She hurried out, with an apologetic glance at Spike.
"Spike! Why didn't you tell me you were hungry? Here, have doughnuts and I'll get your coffee." Dawn said importantly, heading for the kitchen.
Giles looked at Spike, who was admittedly paler than usual, although he looked oddly cheerful. "Well, you're for it now, you know. They've launched into full Florence Nightingale mode."
"Thought it'd keep 'em busy for a while," Spike said cockily, putting the best face on it.
"Strategy! Dear me. Now that is sly. I'm impressed." Giles leaned back in the armchair with a tired sigh, and selected a jelly doughnut filled with undefinable red stuff. "How is Willow?"
"In denial. Sunnydale special. She doesn't remember anything, for the moment. Wanted to go see Tara."
"Well, unless there's actual brain damage, she'll remember soon enough."
"That's when the bloody balloon will go up," Spike said morosely. "I put a sort of ward on her so she can't hurt herself, but she'll want to, all right -- and anybody who gets in her way." He grimaced. "Won't be pretty, Rupes."
"No." Actually, it didn't bear thinking of. Suddenly he had lost his appetite. "How exactly did you negate her power? That was very neatly done. Is it something specific, or can it be done with any magic user?"
"Simple, really -- "
Buffy always drove carefully through residential streets, but today caution was hardly needed. The town was almost deserted; even she couldn't have caused an accident. Instead of the usual flurry of Saturday morning shoppers and dog-walkers a beautiful sunny day attracted, she saw very few passers-by, and those who were out looked oddly listless. She spotted a few people sitting on park benches or even the curbside. No one looked ill, or particularly upset, and no ambulances or emergency vehicles appeared, but it all seemed very strange indeed -- if you could use that word in Sunnydale.
Oddly enough, her personal problem didn't seem like a problem anymore. Getting away from Spike's distracting presence just made things simpler. The little voice inside her singing 'you know you love him' over and over had convinced her without much difficulty. She loved Spike. She wanted Spike. And she didn't care what anyone said or thought about it. Ever. Now her strongest sensation (besides a physical yearning, which she hoped to assuage very soon) was of overwhelming relief. Struggling with herself had been harder than fighting any demon.
The butcher shop was empty, so her shopping took very little time. Returning home with a good supply of vampire chow, Buffy found a disconcertingly cozy picture. Giles and Spike were engrossed in the (literal, in this case) arcana of Watcher shoptalk. Dawn sat cross-legged on the floor beside Spike, contentedly reading the entertainment section of the morning paper. Amongst them, they had made a considerable dent in the doughnut supply.
Without disturbing her bizarre little family, Buffy stored bags of blood in the refrigerator, and took a microwaved mugful into the living room, setting it down beside Spike. She gave him a significant look, and felt a little tingle of satisfaction as he obediently drank it down without protest. Mission accomplished, for the moment. She ate a doughnut, and felt better.
The doorbell rang, and without even being asked Dawn got up to answer it. Xander and Anya were on the front porch. He supported her with an arm around her waist, and her wan face was pressed against his shoulder
"Can we come in?" he said uncertainly.
Dawn wordlessly opened the door wide, and Xander half-carried Anya into the living room and helped her to the sofa as the others rose. She looked dreadful, her face haggard and her hair disarrayed. Buffy couldn't remember ever having seen her dressed in sweats with no makeup before, and Xander, unshaven, with his dark eyes ringed with shadows, didn't look much better.
"I don't know what's wrong with her," he said in desperation. "It seems like she can barely move."
Giles felt her pulse, and touched her forehead briefly. Anya looked at him, but didn't speak, and her expression was terribly sad.
"Apparently," Giles said, pushing his glasses up, "Warren and Willow unintentionally caused an energy drain that's affecting all of us, not just those who were present, but everyone anywhere near the Hellmouth. Anya was linked to Willow, so it depleted her strength even more. We've all felt it." There were nods of agreement around the room. Buffy looked at Spike, her anxiety somewhat allayed. At least it wasn't something to do with his -- his condition.
"You must have noticed it, Xander," Giles went on. "Lethargy? Lassitude? Unusual exhaustion?"
Xander ran his hand over his face dispiritedly. "If you mean this grinding ache right down to my bones, that's how I've felt that since she left," he said.
"Anya's probably not in danger," Giles said. "She just needs rest, as we all do."
"Do you think I should get her to a doctor or something?"
"It's hard to see how you could explain the situation, exactly," Giles began. "Unless -- wait a moment. There might be another solution. Spike?"
The two Watchers exchanged a steady look. Xander stared from one to the other, puzzled.
Spike twitched an eyebrow. "Think now's really the time, Rupert?"
Giles said briskly, "Let's give it a try, shall we?"
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"The astonishment of life, is, the absence of any appearance of reconciliation between the theory and the practice of life."
Ralph Waldo Emerson