Yay! I get to post my story!!!!
Jan. 18th, 2004 01:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angelchickenI get to post my story, my story, my story! I get to post my story I wrote for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyoneill!
Forladyoneill who requested a post Chosen reunion between Spike, Buffy and Dawn. I hope you enjoy!
Title: Harrods
Author: Me! AngelChicken
Rating: PG-13, for a bit of the foul language
Words: 2525
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Unless . . . maybe I could lure Joss into my web and force him to marry me then divorce him and win the rights to Buffy in the settlement. *Note to self: Start inconspicuously stalking Joss*
Summery: Spike goes after his girls.
Warnings: Beyond saccharine. Seriously, this is shmoop at it’s shmoopiest.
Spoilers: Through all of Buffy and Angel 5.8 (Destiny).
Written forsallyanne’s Junk Drawer Challenge 2: Double your pleasure, baby.
Note toladyoneill: I really wanted to do the Lindsay/Angel(us) fic but I know so, so little about Lindsay. But maybe, when I finally get the first and second season DVD’s I will be able to do that one. But I am always happy with Spuffy love! Hope you enjoy.
Other random notes:canadia_bit is a sexy bitch and a wonderful person and we should all bow down to her. And she is a kick ass beta. Thank you darling. Did I ever tell you you’re my hero . . . Um. Right. Anyhoo, I called it Harrods for lack of any other title. Sorry, but I am the queen of unimaginative titles. And I don’t own Harrods, just to clear that up. But dude, I would love to own Harrods. Possibly even more than Buffy. All those clothes! And shoes! And Pets (according to their website they have a pet center. I choose to believe that means they sell pets as opposed to pet accesories. Heck, maybe they do. I've never been. But if I did own Harrods you could bet your sweet patootie they sell pets. I could get my camel there).
Harrods
Giles had an estate. Hell, he should have expected that. He did seem to have an endless source of funds. Hospital bills alone for all the times he got bashed on the head must have flirted with six figures.
Giles seemed spectacularly unsurprised to see a formerly dead (really dead) vampire when he opened the door (What, no manservant? a small, snarky voice that never completely went away asked) which had Spike thinking that maybe some intercontinental calls had been made. Possibly recently.
Right. So much for the surprise.
But he seemed affable enough and, though he didn’t invite Spike into his palace, asked about Spike’s well being and his newly corporeal state. Interesting that. Maybe Wesley had been looking for a bit of the big brain. Or Angel gave him a heads up. No matter. He sure as hell wasn’t here to see Giles.
After the initial pleasantries they stood there. Giles just over the threshold, Spike squinting in the early dusk drizzle on the other side.
“Buffy isn’t here,” Giles finally relented. “She and Dawn went to London for a weekend getaway.”
Dawn. Christ, he had been so relentless in the pursuit of his Slayer he almost completely forgot about her dear little bitch of a sister. He felt his heart contract a bit at the thought of her. Buffy might be happy to see him alive and well, so to speak, but Dawn . . . never really mended that fence. And despite his thoughtlessness regarding his little Bit, it still bothered him enough to think in clichés.
“Are they—“, Spike broke off. Here he was. He had abandoned the L.A. “team” as soon as he could - after spectacularly kicking Angel’s ass, he might add - in his single minded trek to reunite with Buffy. Now that here was here. . . Christ.
“How are they?” he finally asked into Giles slightly bemused face.
“Good,” Giles replied softly. His eyes softened, and a small smile played on his lips. “They’re good. Happy.”
“Good. Good. That’s good. Do you think-“ Spike broke off. Like Giles would tell him anything.
Giles sighed, but answered his unfinished question, even if it was begrudgingly. “Buffy mourned you. So did Dawn. They grieved for you, and still do. You don’t come up much, you should know. But occasionally I’ll see Buffy lost in thought, and know, by the smile on her face, or the way her brow furrows, that she’s thinking of you. Remembering you.
“Dawn, though. She was upset, devastated, when she heard what happened. Woke up that first night sobbing. Buffy and I thought it was Joyce, the house, Sunnydale itself. But it was you. For better or for worse you had a profound impact on both of their lives.”
He paused. Seemed to measure his words, then spoke again, carefully.
“You should know that they are both doing very well. The pressure of being freed from the solitude of her duty has opened Buffy up. Mountains have been removed from her shoulders. She smiles freely now. And has made amends with both Xander and Willow. Buffy will always be the Slayer. She will always have the pressure of a calling that none of her close friends, myself included, will ever understand. But she is a woman. She can be a woman. The world no longer rests on her shoulders.”
Spike watched Giles, wondering where this was going. He was sure that Giles needed to say it, had probably been practicing this speech from the moment he found out Spike was back and en route to Merry Ol’. But being the impatient bastard he was – soul be damned – he really wanted Giles to get to his point soon and tell Spike where he might find Buffy.
Giles must have recognized the frustration in Spike’s expression because he caught Spike’s eyes again and pinned him with a hard look.
“She has already lost two lovers who couldn’t handle who she was. And, despite my better judgment, I don’t think that is you. But if you are going to come back into her life, only to realize you don’t want to deal with any of the shit she still deals with on a regular basis, I suggest you sail right back to L.A. She’s strong, but her heart is vulnerable. And for some reason, you hold a place in it. Do not go searching for her – either of them , really – if you plan on popping right out of her life as soon as things get rough. I won’t have it.”
“Rupert, you said shit.”
The glare he got made Spike smirk. “Giles, I was with Dru for over a century. I loved her deeply, and that was without a soul. Do you honestly think that anything Buffy might throw at me could compare to even half of the trials Dru put me through? I don’t run.”
“Buffy might want you to go shoe shopping with her.”
Spike paused.
“Well, we’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it, right?”
*****
Finding Buffy and Dawn was surprisingly easy. His slayer senses were slightly out of whack since he had been made flesh again, what with the new army of chosen ones, but Buffy was still – always – unique.
It helped that the concierge at the hotel mentioned they were planning on visiting Harrods because they were in the mood to be “touristy”.
Spike hadn’t been to Harrods in years, and he was fairly certain the last time he went it was to buy some ‘dollies’ for Dru, who was going through a wealthy, posh older woman phase and liked the fur stoles they often wore. But only the stoles made of the entire pelt, face and all. Very particular, his Dru.
It was a messy affair and Spike had vowed never to set foot into the poncy tourist trap again. Unfortunately, he had a sad habit of eating his words.
He wandered around the store, slowly making his way through the different departments of coats and shoes and frilly underthings. Past make up counters and housewears. His “Buffy” sense was screaming now. He knew she had to be near. But finding her was proving to be more difficult than he had thought.
Or it could have been because his feet were moving like in a thick molasses. He was here. She was here. Dawn was here. This could be the biggest mistake of his existence.
Though in for a penny, in for a pound. He wasn’t actually known for his smarts.
He finally found them back on the ground level, trying on hats. They looked ridiculous, trying on pill boxes and summer bonnets. Dawn had on a large, frothy, wide brimmed hat with multicolored pastel tulle piled on top. She looked like a wedding cake on acid. Buffy was wearing a puritan bonnet. It was bright red with a wide lace trim and a big bow tied under the chin.
They were both hysterical.
Seeing her laugh like this. Well, he had never seen Buffy laugh like this. Dawn, sure. The summer Buffy was . . . gone, he broke her out of her grief for a few minutes here and there. Made her laugh like the fifteen year old she was supposed to be.
But Buffy.
She lit up the room. Spike noticed other heads turning to watch as the girls traded in their current monstrosities for something even more bizarre. He could feel the smile tugging at his lips, and thought this must have been what Joyce felt, every now and again, watching her two beautiful, shining girls so happy with themselves and with each other.
Dawn saw him first, of course. Dear Buffy, always watching out for the world at large, often not able to see past the end of her nose when it came to her own life.
He was staring, he knew that, when Dawn finally saw him. He must have looked like a twit, sappy grin on his face, wearing a pair of denims and a dark green button down he had nicked from Wesley’s office when the man was away trying to deal with killing his father. Well, the incredibly life-like robot reproduction of his father, in any case. Dawn turned just a bit, glancing to the side, and stopped, eyes wide.
She opened her mouth, and reached for Buffy, who was busy studying a pill box cap with a pair of fake doves intertwined on top. At least he hoped they were fake.
Her hand dropped, though, before she made contact with her sister, and then, in the space of a breath, she was in front of him, peering into his eyes like she couldn’t quite believe he was there. The bright green and blue beads draped over the fuchsia beret she was still wearing clacked softly from the momentum of her dash. She looked shocked. She looked beautiful.
Her left hand came up, slowly, and pressed to his chest. They looked at it together, and when Dawn finally raised her head, she was crying.
“’lo Bit,” he said, with an unsure smile. He reached to wipe a tear from her cheek and she launched herself at him, doing her best to crush him in her arms, her salty tears dampening his neck where she had buried her head. His arms instinctually enveloped her, and he closed his eyes, savoring her scent. The softness of her skin; her voice whispering “you’re real, you’re real” over and over. Like saying it made it true.
It was amnesty and love, offered to him freely. Absolution for his sins past, present and future. He savored it, not knowing how much he missed the feel of Dawn in his arms. He wasn’t very big on touching after Drusilla, held himself aloof because he didn’t need anyone but himself, but Dawn had always turned to him for comfort, clutching his arm during a scary movie, or burrowing into his chest when overcome with grief. She was home.
He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, and that was when he looked up, over Dawn’s shoulder, and into Buffy’s eyes.
He froze. Dawn, sensing his tension, let go and took a step back. She left a hand on his arm, though. An anchor for whatever turmoil might come. Buffy was a bit of a wild one when caught off guard, something he knew more than anyone.
“Buffy,” he continued, trying to look cool and in control.
She walked over, looking slightly dazed. She distractedly took the hideous dove creation off her head and tossed it towards a rack of handbags.
Like Dawn, she stopped in front of him, but she was cautious. She scrutinized him, reaching out, but never actually touching his hair, his shoulders and waist. She stepped back and eyed him, and he felt a bit like he was on display. But he couldn’t move, not until he had some idea of what she was thinking.
“Green.”
“Huh?’ It wasn’t what he had expected.
“She means your shirt. You’re wearing a green shirt. Why are you wearing a green shirt?” Dawn translated the Buffy short hand for him. It was good to have an interpreter, since Buffy didn’t look like she was going to offer any clues.
“Um, yeah. Green shirt. Took it from Wes.”
“Wes. Wesley? You stole a shirt from Wesley?” Buffy asked, brow slightly furrowed.
“Well, s’not like I had any clothes lying around, is it? Come back with the clothes on my back and that’s about all. Need something to wear when I have to do a wash and Angel isn’t what you’d call generous with the cash, despite his expense account being larger than most small countries.”
He sounded defensive and he knew it, but apparently that was what Buffy needed to break out of her trance. She laughed, hiccupped, and jumped into his arms, holding him tightly while her chuckles played themselves out.
When she calmed, she leaned back, though she didn’t unwrap her legs from his hips, and grinned at him.
“Hi Spike!” she beamed, looking him deep in the eyes. “I hoped you’d come back.”
“Hi, uh, what? You did?”
“Yup,” she replied. “All of my boyfriends have and I highly doubted you’d be the exception. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
She hugged him again, and this time he hugged back, savoring the feel of Buffy in his arms again.
She finally let herself down and slid her left hand into his right. She held them up in front of her, studying their interlocked fingers and smiled again. “I missed you.”
“You did? I mean, I missed you too. I would have been sooner, but I couldn’t get out of L.A. Literally. I was bound to the city. I wanted to see you so badly. You did?”
She leaned up, kissing him lightly, a small brush of soft lips against his mouth. He savored it, moaning softly when she pulled away. She looked up through her lashes, almost shy and breathed out, “Of course I did.”
“So you aren’t surprised to see me?”
“Nah. You’re like a bad penny, Spike,” she smirked. “You always turn up.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Not a smidge.”
“And here I had this whole plan laid out with the crying and the sobs and the ‘Oh Spike, you’ve come back to me!’” He sighed, heavily.
“Hey!” Dawn’s indignant voice came from his left. “What am I? Chopped liver?”
“You know it. My favorite,” Spike replied, shooting her a grin. Buffy still had his hand, and Dawn wrapped an arm around his waist.
“So, it’s good that I’m back, then?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Do you want there to be weeping? Victorian romance novel where I throw myself at you, chest heaving, and declare my undying love and devotion? Swoon in your presence and fall prostate at your feet?”
“A little heaving might be nice,” he mumbled, letting himself be pulled by the hand Buffy still held towards the exit.
Dawn squeezed him and grabbed his other hand, saying, “Come on! This’ll be great! You can take us to dinner and tell us where you were and why you couldn’t leave L.A.! And I can tell you about school and this boy I like who is a year ahead of me, and you know what’s strange? I go to public school here, but really, its private school. I have a uniform and stuff. And Buffy is working with Giles and Willow to rebuild the Council, but more girl friendly and stuff. Have you ever had blood pudding? Duh. Dumb question, of course you had what with the ‘grr’ and all. But did you know everyone here eats it? It’s, like, a country of vampires.”
She continued in this vein while they walked, talking about boys and school, almost like he’d never been gone. Spike couldn’t help but smile, the fear of this encounter evaporating like mist.
He felt Buffy squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. She was happy – happy! – to see him. It was like a dream.
It was perfect.
ladyoneill!For
ladyoneill who requested a post Chosen reunion between Spike, Buffy and Dawn. I hope you enjoy!Title: Harrods
Author: Me! AngelChicken
Rating: PG-13, for a bit of the foul language
Words: 2525
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Unless . . . maybe I could lure Joss into my web and force him to marry me then divorce him and win the rights to Buffy in the settlement. *Note to self: Start inconspicuously stalking Joss*
Summery: Spike goes after his girls.
Warnings: Beyond saccharine. Seriously, this is shmoop at it’s shmoopiest.
Spoilers: Through all of Buffy and Angel 5.8 (Destiny).
Written for
sallyanne’s Junk Drawer Challenge 2: Double your pleasure, baby.Note to
ladyoneill: I really wanted to do the Lindsay/Angel(us) fic but I know so, so little about Lindsay. But maybe, when I finally get the first and second season DVD’s I will be able to do that one. But I am always happy with Spuffy love! Hope you enjoy.Other random notes:
canadia_bit is a sexy bitch and a wonderful person and we should all bow down to her. And she is a kick ass beta. Thank you darling. Did I ever tell you you’re my hero . . . Um. Right. Anyhoo, I called it Harrods for lack of any other title. Sorry, but I am the queen of unimaginative titles. And I don’t own Harrods, just to clear that up. But dude, I would love to own Harrods. Possibly even more than Buffy. All those clothes! And shoes! And Pets (according to their website they have a pet center. I choose to believe that means they sell pets as opposed to pet accesories. Heck, maybe they do. I've never been. But if I did own Harrods you could bet your sweet patootie they sell pets. I could get my camel there).Harrods
Giles had an estate. Hell, he should have expected that. He did seem to have an endless source of funds. Hospital bills alone for all the times he got bashed on the head must have flirted with six figures.
Giles seemed spectacularly unsurprised to see a formerly dead (really dead) vampire when he opened the door (What, no manservant? a small, snarky voice that never completely went away asked) which had Spike thinking that maybe some intercontinental calls had been made. Possibly recently.
Right. So much for the surprise.
But he seemed affable enough and, though he didn’t invite Spike into his palace, asked about Spike’s well being and his newly corporeal state. Interesting that. Maybe Wesley had been looking for a bit of the big brain. Or Angel gave him a heads up. No matter. He sure as hell wasn’t here to see Giles.
After the initial pleasantries they stood there. Giles just over the threshold, Spike squinting in the early dusk drizzle on the other side.
“Buffy isn’t here,” Giles finally relented. “She and Dawn went to London for a weekend getaway.”
Dawn. Christ, he had been so relentless in the pursuit of his Slayer he almost completely forgot about her dear little bitch of a sister. He felt his heart contract a bit at the thought of her. Buffy might be happy to see him alive and well, so to speak, but Dawn . . . never really mended that fence. And despite his thoughtlessness regarding his little Bit, it still bothered him enough to think in clichés.
“Are they—“, Spike broke off. Here he was. He had abandoned the L.A. “team” as soon as he could - after spectacularly kicking Angel’s ass, he might add - in his single minded trek to reunite with Buffy. Now that here was here. . . Christ.
“How are they?” he finally asked into Giles slightly bemused face.
“Good,” Giles replied softly. His eyes softened, and a small smile played on his lips. “They’re good. Happy.”
“Good. Good. That’s good. Do you think-“ Spike broke off. Like Giles would tell him anything.
Giles sighed, but answered his unfinished question, even if it was begrudgingly. “Buffy mourned you. So did Dawn. They grieved for you, and still do. You don’t come up much, you should know. But occasionally I’ll see Buffy lost in thought, and know, by the smile on her face, or the way her brow furrows, that she’s thinking of you. Remembering you.
“Dawn, though. She was upset, devastated, when she heard what happened. Woke up that first night sobbing. Buffy and I thought it was Joyce, the house, Sunnydale itself. But it was you. For better or for worse you had a profound impact on both of their lives.”
He paused. Seemed to measure his words, then spoke again, carefully.
“You should know that they are both doing very well. The pressure of being freed from the solitude of her duty has opened Buffy up. Mountains have been removed from her shoulders. She smiles freely now. And has made amends with both Xander and Willow. Buffy will always be the Slayer. She will always have the pressure of a calling that none of her close friends, myself included, will ever understand. But she is a woman. She can be a woman. The world no longer rests on her shoulders.”
Spike watched Giles, wondering where this was going. He was sure that Giles needed to say it, had probably been practicing this speech from the moment he found out Spike was back and en route to Merry Ol’. But being the impatient bastard he was – soul be damned – he really wanted Giles to get to his point soon and tell Spike where he might find Buffy.
Giles must have recognized the frustration in Spike’s expression because he caught Spike’s eyes again and pinned him with a hard look.
“She has already lost two lovers who couldn’t handle who she was. And, despite my better judgment, I don’t think that is you. But if you are going to come back into her life, only to realize you don’t want to deal with any of the shit she still deals with on a regular basis, I suggest you sail right back to L.A. She’s strong, but her heart is vulnerable. And for some reason, you hold a place in it. Do not go searching for her – either of them , really – if you plan on popping right out of her life as soon as things get rough. I won’t have it.”
“Rupert, you said shit.”
The glare he got made Spike smirk. “Giles, I was with Dru for over a century. I loved her deeply, and that was without a soul. Do you honestly think that anything Buffy might throw at me could compare to even half of the trials Dru put me through? I don’t run.”
“Buffy might want you to go shoe shopping with her.”
Spike paused.
“Well, we’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it, right?”
*****
Finding Buffy and Dawn was surprisingly easy. His slayer senses were slightly out of whack since he had been made flesh again, what with the new army of chosen ones, but Buffy was still – always – unique.
It helped that the concierge at the hotel mentioned they were planning on visiting Harrods because they were in the mood to be “touristy”.
Spike hadn’t been to Harrods in years, and he was fairly certain the last time he went it was to buy some ‘dollies’ for Dru, who was going through a wealthy, posh older woman phase and liked the fur stoles they often wore. But only the stoles made of the entire pelt, face and all. Very particular, his Dru.
It was a messy affair and Spike had vowed never to set foot into the poncy tourist trap again. Unfortunately, he had a sad habit of eating his words.
He wandered around the store, slowly making his way through the different departments of coats and shoes and frilly underthings. Past make up counters and housewears. His “Buffy” sense was screaming now. He knew she had to be near. But finding her was proving to be more difficult than he had thought.
Or it could have been because his feet were moving like in a thick molasses. He was here. She was here. Dawn was here. This could be the biggest mistake of his existence.
Though in for a penny, in for a pound. He wasn’t actually known for his smarts.
He finally found them back on the ground level, trying on hats. They looked ridiculous, trying on pill boxes and summer bonnets. Dawn had on a large, frothy, wide brimmed hat with multicolored pastel tulle piled on top. She looked like a wedding cake on acid. Buffy was wearing a puritan bonnet. It was bright red with a wide lace trim and a big bow tied under the chin.
They were both hysterical.
Seeing her laugh like this. Well, he had never seen Buffy laugh like this. Dawn, sure. The summer Buffy was . . . gone, he broke her out of her grief for a few minutes here and there. Made her laugh like the fifteen year old she was supposed to be.
But Buffy.
She lit up the room. Spike noticed other heads turning to watch as the girls traded in their current monstrosities for something even more bizarre. He could feel the smile tugging at his lips, and thought this must have been what Joyce felt, every now and again, watching her two beautiful, shining girls so happy with themselves and with each other.
Dawn saw him first, of course. Dear Buffy, always watching out for the world at large, often not able to see past the end of her nose when it came to her own life.
He was staring, he knew that, when Dawn finally saw him. He must have looked like a twit, sappy grin on his face, wearing a pair of denims and a dark green button down he had nicked from Wesley’s office when the man was away trying to deal with killing his father. Well, the incredibly life-like robot reproduction of his father, in any case. Dawn turned just a bit, glancing to the side, and stopped, eyes wide.
She opened her mouth, and reached for Buffy, who was busy studying a pill box cap with a pair of fake doves intertwined on top. At least he hoped they were fake.
Her hand dropped, though, before she made contact with her sister, and then, in the space of a breath, she was in front of him, peering into his eyes like she couldn’t quite believe he was there. The bright green and blue beads draped over the fuchsia beret she was still wearing clacked softly from the momentum of her dash. She looked shocked. She looked beautiful.
Her left hand came up, slowly, and pressed to his chest. They looked at it together, and when Dawn finally raised her head, she was crying.
“’lo Bit,” he said, with an unsure smile. He reached to wipe a tear from her cheek and she launched herself at him, doing her best to crush him in her arms, her salty tears dampening his neck where she had buried her head. His arms instinctually enveloped her, and he closed his eyes, savoring her scent. The softness of her skin; her voice whispering “you’re real, you’re real” over and over. Like saying it made it true.
It was amnesty and love, offered to him freely. Absolution for his sins past, present and future. He savored it, not knowing how much he missed the feel of Dawn in his arms. He wasn’t very big on touching after Drusilla, held himself aloof because he didn’t need anyone but himself, but Dawn had always turned to him for comfort, clutching his arm during a scary movie, or burrowing into his chest when overcome with grief. She was home.
He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, and that was when he looked up, over Dawn’s shoulder, and into Buffy’s eyes.
He froze. Dawn, sensing his tension, let go and took a step back. She left a hand on his arm, though. An anchor for whatever turmoil might come. Buffy was a bit of a wild one when caught off guard, something he knew more than anyone.
“Buffy,” he continued, trying to look cool and in control.
She walked over, looking slightly dazed. She distractedly took the hideous dove creation off her head and tossed it towards a rack of handbags.
Like Dawn, she stopped in front of him, but she was cautious. She scrutinized him, reaching out, but never actually touching his hair, his shoulders and waist. She stepped back and eyed him, and he felt a bit like he was on display. But he couldn’t move, not until he had some idea of what she was thinking.
“Green.”
“Huh?’ It wasn’t what he had expected.
“She means your shirt. You’re wearing a green shirt. Why are you wearing a green shirt?” Dawn translated the Buffy short hand for him. It was good to have an interpreter, since Buffy didn’t look like she was going to offer any clues.
“Um, yeah. Green shirt. Took it from Wes.”
“Wes. Wesley? You stole a shirt from Wesley?” Buffy asked, brow slightly furrowed.
“Well, s’not like I had any clothes lying around, is it? Come back with the clothes on my back and that’s about all. Need something to wear when I have to do a wash and Angel isn’t what you’d call generous with the cash, despite his expense account being larger than most small countries.”
He sounded defensive and he knew it, but apparently that was what Buffy needed to break out of her trance. She laughed, hiccupped, and jumped into his arms, holding him tightly while her chuckles played themselves out.
When she calmed, she leaned back, though she didn’t unwrap her legs from his hips, and grinned at him.
“Hi Spike!” she beamed, looking him deep in the eyes. “I hoped you’d come back.”
“Hi, uh, what? You did?”
“Yup,” she replied. “All of my boyfriends have and I highly doubted you’d be the exception. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
She hugged him again, and this time he hugged back, savoring the feel of Buffy in his arms again.
She finally let herself down and slid her left hand into his right. She held them up in front of her, studying their interlocked fingers and smiled again. “I missed you.”
“You did? I mean, I missed you too. I would have been sooner, but I couldn’t get out of L.A. Literally. I was bound to the city. I wanted to see you so badly. You did?”
She leaned up, kissing him lightly, a small brush of soft lips against his mouth. He savored it, moaning softly when she pulled away. She looked up through her lashes, almost shy and breathed out, “Of course I did.”
“So you aren’t surprised to see me?”
“Nah. You’re like a bad penny, Spike,” she smirked. “You always turn up.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Not a smidge.”
“And here I had this whole plan laid out with the crying and the sobs and the ‘Oh Spike, you’ve come back to me!’” He sighed, heavily.
“Hey!” Dawn’s indignant voice came from his left. “What am I? Chopped liver?”
“You know it. My favorite,” Spike replied, shooting her a grin. Buffy still had his hand, and Dawn wrapped an arm around his waist.
“So, it’s good that I’m back, then?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Do you want there to be weeping? Victorian romance novel where I throw myself at you, chest heaving, and declare my undying love and devotion? Swoon in your presence and fall prostate at your feet?”
“A little heaving might be nice,” he mumbled, letting himself be pulled by the hand Buffy still held towards the exit.
Dawn squeezed him and grabbed his other hand, saying, “Come on! This’ll be great! You can take us to dinner and tell us where you were and why you couldn’t leave L.A.! And I can tell you about school and this boy I like who is a year ahead of me, and you know what’s strange? I go to public school here, but really, its private school. I have a uniform and stuff. And Buffy is working with Giles and Willow to rebuild the Council, but more girl friendly and stuff. Have you ever had blood pudding? Duh. Dumb question, of course you had what with the ‘grr’ and all. But did you know everyone here eats it? It’s, like, a country of vampires.”
She continued in this vein while they walked, talking about boys and school, almost like he’d never been gone. Spike couldn’t help but smile, the fear of this encounter evaporating like mist.
He felt Buffy squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. She was happy – happy! – to see him. It was like a dream.
It was perfect.
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Date: 2004-01-17 10:32 pm (UTC)And so was this story! So much for worrying about how to top himself! Take that, ME!
Seriously, you did a wonderful job with this. So sweet and touching, and soooo true to all the characters! Bravo!
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Date: 2004-01-18 02:18 pm (UTC)Hee! Thank you so much for the compliment! I am so, so pleased you liked it!
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Date: 2004-01-18 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 02:20 pm (UTC)I'm so, so happy you liked it!
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Date: 2004-01-18 03:12 am (UTC)“Rupert, you said shit.”
LMAO! Because that's the first thing I thought when Giles said it, too.
I'm a dork. I know.
Lovely job, dear!
:)
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Date: 2004-01-18 02:22 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm so pleased you liked it! Shmoop is essential in life, methinks. And you are so not a dork.
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Date: 2004-01-18 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 07:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 05:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 05:27 pm (UTC)Great job, chickie!
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Date: 2004-01-18 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 09:37 pm (UTC)That's just perfect. Great job AC!
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Date: 2004-01-19 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-19 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-19 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-19 10:25 am (UTC)Awww. This is perfect. Protective!Giles, and the hats, and the Buffy/Spike & dawn at the end, and ... awwww. very, very nice.
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Date: 2004-01-19 03:08 pm (UTC)2) Thank you! I liked the Dawn-babble at the end, too. I'm pretty proud of that.
Thank you for your kind words and the feedback. Makes my day!
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Date: 2004-01-19 11:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-19 03:09 pm (UTC)There are some ridiculous hats in this world.
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked!
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Date: 2004-01-19 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-20 12:36 pm (UTC)