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.
MODERATE SPOILERS
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 10. Surprise of the Change
"Wait a minute! What's he got to do with it?" Xander said angrily. "What the hell is he doing here, anyway?
"You need to drop the attitude, mate," Spike said tightly. "This is really no time."
"This is my house, Xander, and since we'd all be dead if he hadn't come back -- " Buffy began hotly.
"There's no point in getting into a brawl about it," Giles interrupted. "There's a great deal you don't understand, Xander. This most certainly isn't over and we're going to need Spike's help. And Anya needs it now. There's no more to be said."
"What can he do?"
"We'll see that shortly. Ready?" Giles said to Spike.
"As I'll ever be," Spike replied. Then he stood stock-still and closed his eyes for a moment. They watched him expectantly, the tension building, though no one had the slightest idea what they were waiting for.
"Well, now!" he said suddenly. But somehow this was no longer Spike. "Let's see to this poor young lady," he continued in a cheerful, reassuring tone. Whoever it actually was seemed to be Scottish. He perched on the sofa next to Anya and picked up her wrist. Then he laughed a little. "Do you know, Rupert, I don't need a stethoscope? I can hear her heartbeat perfectly clearly, and very strong it is, too. I always wondered about that, and it's quite true, after all. Most gratifying!"
"Good Lord!" Giles said. "Tom MacNab?"
"Got it in one," Dr. MacNab/Spike replied. "How are you, Rupert?"
"I had -- had no idea you'd, um, passed on," Giles stammered, with a mixture of excitement at the success of this experiment and embarrassment at what looked very much like a supernatural faux pas.
"Well, it was a bit sudden, you know," Dr. MacNab said easily. "I'd already made arrangements for the Thisavrizo, read up on the thing, of course, but the reality is singularly interesting. I must say I'm very pleased, very pleased indeed." He looked keenly at Anya, and his dumbstruck audience could almost see a grizzled little man in a tweed suit, with bushy eyebrows and sharp twinkling eyes. It was frankly terrifying. "My dear young lady, you're a very strong, resilient girl. No temperature, breathing fine, heartbeat fine, eyes clear -- and very pretty they are! Rest yourself for a few days, and eat heartily -- not just a lettuce leaf or two! No rabbit food, eh?" he said, ignoring Anya's startled look of horror, "and you'll be up and around in no time. No need to worry this young fellow any longer, is there?"
Anya smiled up at him weakly. "I was afraid I'd feel like this forever, doctor," she said. "I deserve it."
"No indeed, I'm sure you don't, my dear; and you'll be right as rain. Not a thing wrong with you at all." He patted her hand, and rose to face Buffy. "So this would be the Slayer." He met her eyes with respect and curiosity, a complete stranger. "You must be very proud, Rupert," he said, and held out his hand to her. "How do you do, my dear?"
Buffy politely shook hands with whomever it was that possessed her lover. (If that's exactly what he was doing; she wasn't too clear about that.) "Hi," she said weakly. He pressed her hand for a moment between both of his, and looked as though he wanted to say something more, but turned to Giles instead.
"Well, Rupert, it's good to see you. I'm sure we'll meet again. I'd like to stay and chat, but I think I'd best be going -- don't want to wear out my welcome. I'd call this a successful trial run, wouldn't you?"
Giles shook the proffered hand. "May I say it's most reassuring to know you're a part of all this, Tom?" he said.
"My dear chap, we couldn't be in better hands, you know, though I say it myself, as a member of The Committee," Dr. MacNab replied. Giles made a mental note of this; apparently, Spike was quite correct -- the Watchers contained within him did have meetings, which was rather a bizarre thought. The doctor went on, "I was in on the final decision, you know, and I can tell you it was made with great care. No need for concern, I assure you. This has been planned for a long time. Now I really must be going; I fear my host is growing anxious," he said, with an expressive wink at Buffy, who jumped. Then he stood utterly still again, for a few seconds. And then Spike looked back at them once more.
There was a long moment of silence. "What?" he said irritably, surveying their stunned faces. "Did it work?"
"I think I may say it was a spectacular success," Giles said with enthusiasm. He simply couldn't resist cleaning his glasses. "A really remarkable success."
"Why are you lot looking at me like I've gone 'round the bend, then? Or you have."
"It was sort of freaky," Dawn said shakily, her eyes round.
"Freaky is a very, very mild word for what that was," Buffy added.
"You know, I almost wish I had gone crazy," Xander sighed, rubbing his eyes. Anya reached for his hand, with a tentative smile. He kissed her hand, and finally seemed to relax a little. "Will someone please tell me what's going on? Why can Spike do all this stuff? Who the heck was that? Why are we zonked? Where's Willow?"
"Yes, yes," Giles said consolingly, "we'll explain everything. You see -- "
Buffy stopped listening and gazed at Spike. He stood with his shoulders propped tiredly against the archway to the hall, watching Giles, his face impassive. When he had suddenly -- gone away -- her heart had frozen with fear. Losing him like that, with another personality taking over his face, his hands, his beautiful body, stealing them away from her -- and before she had a chance to get reacquainted, too! -- was simply unbearable. She ached to touch him.
Probably it was the whole soul thing making her emotions churn this way, she told herself practically. 'You love him, you love him, you know you love him,' the underneath-voice said. (It didn't seem to have much of a vocabulary.) She let herself drink him in, his electric physical presence, his tough, shrewd, ridiculously romantic, all-too-frank self; it was so satisfying to just not care who knew how she felt anymore. She candidly looked her fill. All at once, as though he could feel her watching him, he looked up and met her eyes.
She rose and quietly went down the hall towards the kitchen, knowing he would follow. When he came near, she looked into his eyes for a few moments, her face open and shameless at last. Then she put both her hands up to the sides of his face, and drew his head down to hers for a kiss.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change."
Robert Browning
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.
MODERATE SPOILERS
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 10. Surprise of the Change
"Wait a minute! What's he got to do with it?" Xander said angrily. "What the hell is he doing here, anyway?
"You need to drop the attitude, mate," Spike said tightly. "This is really no time."
"This is my house, Xander, and since we'd all be dead if he hadn't come back -- " Buffy began hotly.
"There's no point in getting into a brawl about it," Giles interrupted. "There's a great deal you don't understand, Xander. This most certainly isn't over and we're going to need Spike's help. And Anya needs it now. There's no more to be said."
"What can he do?"
"We'll see that shortly. Ready?" Giles said to Spike.
"As I'll ever be," Spike replied. Then he stood stock-still and closed his eyes for a moment. They watched him expectantly, the tension building, though no one had the slightest idea what they were waiting for.
"Well, now!" he said suddenly. But somehow this was no longer Spike. "Let's see to this poor young lady," he continued in a cheerful, reassuring tone. Whoever it actually was seemed to be Scottish. He perched on the sofa next to Anya and picked up her wrist. Then he laughed a little. "Do you know, Rupert, I don't need a stethoscope? I can hear her heartbeat perfectly clearly, and very strong it is, too. I always wondered about that, and it's quite true, after all. Most gratifying!"
"Good Lord!" Giles said. "Tom MacNab?"
"Got it in one," Dr. MacNab/Spike replied. "How are you, Rupert?"
"I had -- had no idea you'd, um, passed on," Giles stammered, with a mixture of excitement at the success of this experiment and embarrassment at what looked very much like a supernatural faux pas.
"Well, it was a bit sudden, you know," Dr. MacNab said easily. "I'd already made arrangements for the Thisavrizo, read up on the thing, of course, but the reality is singularly interesting. I must say I'm very pleased, very pleased indeed." He looked keenly at Anya, and his dumbstruck audience could almost see a grizzled little man in a tweed suit, with bushy eyebrows and sharp twinkling eyes. It was frankly terrifying. "My dear young lady, you're a very strong, resilient girl. No temperature, breathing fine, heartbeat fine, eyes clear -- and very pretty they are! Rest yourself for a few days, and eat heartily -- not just a lettuce leaf or two! No rabbit food, eh?" he said, ignoring Anya's startled look of horror, "and you'll be up and around in no time. No need to worry this young fellow any longer, is there?"
Anya smiled up at him weakly. "I was afraid I'd feel like this forever, doctor," she said. "I deserve it."
"No indeed, I'm sure you don't, my dear; and you'll be right as rain. Not a thing wrong with you at all." He patted her hand, and rose to face Buffy. "So this would be the Slayer." He met her eyes with respect and curiosity, a complete stranger. "You must be very proud, Rupert," he said, and held out his hand to her. "How do you do, my dear?"
Buffy politely shook hands with whomever it was that possessed her lover. (If that's exactly what he was doing; she wasn't too clear about that.) "Hi," she said weakly. He pressed her hand for a moment between both of his, and looked as though he wanted to say something more, but turned to Giles instead.
"Well, Rupert, it's good to see you. I'm sure we'll meet again. I'd like to stay and chat, but I think I'd best be going -- don't want to wear out my welcome. I'd call this a successful trial run, wouldn't you?"
Giles shook the proffered hand. "May I say it's most reassuring to know you're a part of all this, Tom?" he said.
"My dear chap, we couldn't be in better hands, you know, though I say it myself, as a member of The Committee," Dr. MacNab replied. Giles made a mental note of this; apparently, Spike was quite correct -- the Watchers contained within him did have meetings, which was rather a bizarre thought. The doctor went on, "I was in on the final decision, you know, and I can tell you it was made with great care. No need for concern, I assure you. This has been planned for a long time. Now I really must be going; I fear my host is growing anxious," he said, with an expressive wink at Buffy, who jumped. Then he stood utterly still again, for a few seconds. And then Spike looked back at them once more.
There was a long moment of silence. "What?" he said irritably, surveying their stunned faces. "Did it work?"
"I think I may say it was a spectacular success," Giles said with enthusiasm. He simply couldn't resist cleaning his glasses. "A really remarkable success."
"Why are you lot looking at me like I've gone 'round the bend, then? Or you have."
"It was sort of freaky," Dawn said shakily, her eyes round.
"Freaky is a very, very mild word for what that was," Buffy added.
"You know, I almost wish I had gone crazy," Xander sighed, rubbing his eyes. Anya reached for his hand, with a tentative smile. He kissed her hand, and finally seemed to relax a little. "Will someone please tell me what's going on? Why can Spike do all this stuff? Who the heck was that? Why are we zonked? Where's Willow?"
"Yes, yes," Giles said consolingly, "we'll explain everything. You see -- "
Buffy stopped listening and gazed at Spike. He stood with his shoulders propped tiredly against the archway to the hall, watching Giles, his face impassive. When he had suddenly -- gone away -- her heart had frozen with fear. Losing him like that, with another personality taking over his face, his hands, his beautiful body, stealing them away from her -- and before she had a chance to get reacquainted, too! -- was simply unbearable. She ached to touch him.
Probably it was the whole soul thing making her emotions churn this way, she told herself practically. 'You love him, you love him, you know you love him,' the underneath-voice said. (It didn't seem to have much of a vocabulary.) She let herself drink him in, his electric physical presence, his tough, shrewd, ridiculously romantic, all-too-frank self; it was so satisfying to just not care who knew how she felt anymore. She candidly looked her fill. All at once, as though he could feel her watching him, he looked up and met her eyes.
She rose and quietly went down the hall towards the kitchen, knowing he would follow. When he came near, she looked into his eyes for a few moments, her face open and shameless at last. Then she put both her hands up to the sides of his face, and drew his head down to hers for a kiss.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change."
Robert Browning