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May. 1st, 2006 07:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
botiasRating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Timeline: About six months after my previous fic for Seasonal Spuffy
Characters: Spike/Buffy
Summary:What exactly was Buffy up to while Spike was off fighting Evil and Sobriety?
Warnings: Un-betaed, baby!fic run away!
A/N: This fic was written more or less in response to the fairytale challenge for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
seasonal_spuffy that has just wrapped up a fine run.
The Good Fairy 1/3
He threw on his coat in the entryway and hitched it up over his head. The sun shone right on the front door at this hour of the morning; his fingers would probably get scorched good and black before he could get to the shady side. Good. Fine. Might teach him to keep 'em out of the fire.
He flung open the door and dashed out. He should have known better. Girl was a slayer. The only thing she knew to do with a heart was drive a stake through it. Why he... he...
He wasn't burning.
He stopped, sniffed. No smoke. The sun felt warm through his clothes, not the usual 'fire ants in a feeding frenzy' thing. It was hard to miss. Still crouched under the shelter of his coat, he extended his hands into the light. He winced. They were blindingly white, but definitely not on fire. Oh. Oh. Oh, he was so buggered. Buffy was going to be--
From the bottom of the stairs came a flood of irate Italian. One of their matronly neighbors was saying something about a disgrace to the neighborhood. He supposed he did look a little odd doubled over. And with his coat over his head. And looking at his hands like he could see daisies sprouting from the ends. He straightened under her scold like a guilty schoolboy. “Ow! Son of a bitch!” He yanked an arm up over his eyes.
“...quartiere a luci rosse!” Red light district? He got the insane asylum bit, but- Buffy. He turned around. Buffy was standing in the open doorway, a picture of pink and gold in the morning sun. Glorious. Gobsmacked, but glorious. She had one hand braced against the door frame, the other clutching the duvet. It was clearly a look that had required her to go braless. As he watched, she lost a lot of the pink.
He got to her just as her knees went, and scooped her up. Kicking the door shut behind him, he headed for the bedroom. Their bedroom. Sometimes people forgot things that happened right before they blacked out right?
Instead of laying her down he sat back against the headboard, cradling her against his chest. Buffy moaned and burrowed into him.
“Spike, I don't feel so good.”
“I know, baby.” He smoothed her damp hair back from her face, knew it wasn't all from sweat. He didn't feel so well either. “Maybe you, uh, shouldn't try to talk.” He winced. It backfired right enough. Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.
She shifted back until she could look him in the eye. Her color was looking better. “Tell me what the hell is going on. Tell me now.”
“Well you're- It's pretty likely that- ” It had been easier to admit that he'd killed under the influence of the First, than to tell her what he'd done to her, supposedly his beloved, under the influence of the demon rum. He sighed, gestured with his chin. “Lay your head back down and I'll tell you.” She gave him a look, but she did as he asked.
“That bad, huh?” But he thought she sounded a little relieved.
“I- Remember when I went to L.A. with the others? I told you I was supposed to rescue this sacrifice and I did. Well, thing is, she offered to repay me in a certain way.” He felt Buffy tense. “I didn't mention it before 'cause of course I just laughed in her face didn't I? Said no. No way. Wasn't made yesterday, don't make wishes to anybody.”
“Well, she stuck around, helped us out, and we all went to this demon bar after--not all, a bunch of 'em decided to go to Disneyland--but, anyway, 'At least let me buy you a drink', she says.”
And she'd looked so damn cute and harmless sitting on the edge of the bar, her pretty legs crossed at the ankle, cradling a shot glass that was almost as big as she was.
“And then we ran into Clem and his people, and he was celebrating too. He and his, uh, girl, they just had a blessed event you see, and we had to drink to that, and there were six of them in the litter and we couldn't slight any of 'em.” He paused for a moment, remembering. “Good natured as he is, I've never seen Clem so happy." He shook his head. "Anyway, by the end of the night, I was half-seas-over. I think I might have... made some wishes." He had a vague recollection of shouting, 'A million dollars!' and laughing like a loon.
“Oh god.”
“Yeah.”
continued here
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Timeline: About six months after my previous fic for Seasonal Spuffy
Characters: Spike/Buffy
Summary:What exactly was Buffy up to while Spike was off fighting Evil and Sobriety?
Warnings: Un-betaed, baby!fic run away!
A/N: This fic was written more or less in response to the fairytale challenge for
seasonal_spuffy that has just wrapped up a fine run.The Good Fairy 1/3
The Good Fairy 2/3
He threw on his coat in the entryway and hitched it up over his head. The sun shone right on the front door at this hour of the morning; his fingers would probably get scorched good and black before he could get to the shady side. Good. Fine. Might teach him to keep 'em out of the fire.
He flung open the door and dashed out. He should have known better. Girl was a slayer. The only thing she knew to do with a heart was drive a stake through it. Why he... he...
He wasn't burning.
He stopped, sniffed. No smoke. The sun felt warm through his clothes, not the usual 'fire ants in a feeding frenzy' thing. It was hard to miss. Still crouched under the shelter of his coat, he extended his hands into the light. He winced. They were blindingly white, but definitely not on fire. Oh. Oh. Oh, he was so buggered. Buffy was going to be--
From the bottom of the stairs came a flood of irate Italian. One of their matronly neighbors was saying something about a disgrace to the neighborhood. He supposed he did look a little odd doubled over. And with his coat over his head. And looking at his hands like he could see daisies sprouting from the ends. He straightened under her scold like a guilty schoolboy. “Ow! Son of a bitch!” He yanked an arm up over his eyes.
“...quartiere a luci rosse!” Red light district? He got the insane asylum bit, but- Buffy. He turned around. Buffy was standing in the open doorway, a picture of pink and gold in the morning sun. Glorious. Gobsmacked, but glorious. She had one hand braced against the door frame, the other clutching the duvet. It was clearly a look that had required her to go braless. As he watched, she lost a lot of the pink.
He got to her just as her knees went, and scooped her up. Kicking the door shut behind him, he headed for the bedroom. Their bedroom. Sometimes people forgot things that happened right before they blacked out right?
Instead of laying her down he sat back against the headboard, cradling her against his chest. Buffy moaned and burrowed into him.
“Spike, I don't feel so good.”
“I know, baby.” He smoothed her damp hair back from her face, knew it wasn't all from sweat. He didn't feel so well either. “Maybe you, uh, shouldn't try to talk.” He winced. It backfired right enough. Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.
She shifted back until she could look him in the eye. Her color was looking better. “Tell me what the hell is going on. Tell me now.”
“Well you're- It's pretty likely that- ” It had been easier to admit that he'd killed under the influence of the First, than to tell her what he'd done to her, supposedly his beloved, under the influence of the demon rum. He sighed, gestured with his chin. “Lay your head back down and I'll tell you.” She gave him a look, but she did as he asked.
“That bad, huh?” But he thought she sounded a little relieved.
“I- Remember when I went to L.A. with the others? I told you I was supposed to rescue this sacrifice and I did. Well, thing is, she offered to repay me in a certain way.” He felt Buffy tense. “I didn't mention it before 'cause of course I just laughed in her face didn't I? Said no. No way. Wasn't made yesterday, don't make wishes to anybody.”
“Well, she stuck around, helped us out, and we all went to this demon bar after--not all, a bunch of 'em decided to go to Disneyland--but, anyway, 'At least let me buy you a drink', she says.”
And she'd looked so damn cute and harmless sitting on the edge of the bar, her pretty legs crossed at the ankle, cradling a shot glass that was almost as big as she was.
“And then we ran into Clem and his people, and he was celebrating too. He and his, uh, girl, they just had a blessed event you see, and we had to drink to that, and there were six of them in the litter and we couldn't slight any of 'em.” He paused for a moment, remembering. “Good natured as he is, I've never seen Clem so happy." He shook his head. "Anyway, by the end of the night, I was half-seas-over. I think I might have... made some wishes." He had a vague recollection of shouting, 'A million dollars!' and laughing like a loon.
“Oh god.”
“Yeah.”
continued here
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Date: 2006-05-04 12:57 am (UTC)