herself_nyc (herself_nyc) wrote in herself_nyc_fic, @ 2007-09-29 20:13:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | s/b fic, the proper slayer |
THE PROPER SLAYER (pt 14 of ?)
Short installment to show that I'm still working on this fic!
Buffy's back home in Sunnydale after her AWOL summer with an accidentally-souled Spike.
And now they're together again, struggling with a mutual love that isn't making anything better for either of them.
Fic set in an AU early season 3. A coda, more than a sequel, to Let's Get Lost.
Previously ...
"Spike ... why won't you bite me?"
This again! He'd hoped she was going to let it go.
"Back in New York, you said ... you said you were waiting for me to ask for it."
"Hush, love. Hush, now. Go to sleep. Or shall I put on the telly?"
"You said I'd want it, and that when I wanted it, it would happen."
"You don't want it, Miss Anne." He was sure she'd never asked this of Angel. And though he remembered as well as she did their conversation about it back at the motel on Long Island, he was certain they were talking now about something else. She wasn't offering him all of herself, whatever she might think. She was petitioning for oblivion.
"I don't see how this can be enough for you."
"Yeah, well, better trust me, that it is. You are. Just need you safe an' sound an' here with me."
"Why?"
He didn't answer, just kissed her for a long time, in a way that didn't feel like happiness or kindness, but like desert thirst and abandonment.
Like what she felt herself.
"I'd better go home."
"I'll drive you."
As the leaves turned and fell into patterns on the lawns of Sunnydale's cemetaries, her life too took on a pattern: brief naps into the dawn, half-awake at school, with Giles and the others, with her mother, letting Faith take up as much space at those latter points of pressure as she pleased, counting the hours until she could go to Spike and be loved. In the eternal momentariness of him, she was able to feel alive--his conversation, full of random observations, grisly, funny, meandering sepia-colored anecdotes; bits of poems he'd tell from his memory, speaking them, unlike her teachers, who only recited; and his love-making, raunchy, worshipful, inventive. She almost always cried while they were together, and always they'd discuss their love in whispers, reassurances she each time promised herself she wouldn't ask for the following night.
One morning just ahead of sunrise, she climbed in her own window to find Faith in her bed. With the lights off, and both hands under the quilt, and her shoulders bare.
"What are you doing in here?"
"You haven't been usin' it."
"Ha bloody ha."
Faith's hands moved under the covers; Buffy followed their bumps with her eyes. "Now you're talking like him? Pretty serious."
"Please stop doing whatever it is you're doing. And I'm not going to talk about Spike right now--I want to get a little sleep."
Faith drew one hand out. The fingers glistened before she popped them into her mouth. "I can't tempt you, huh?"
"Faith--"
"Look, you've got to stop skipping the Scoobie meetings. They're onto you. Willow's noticed an uptick in reports of people with mysterious neck woundsno casualties. I figured that was your boy, but I kept my mouth shut, said I'd check around. Only thing is, Giles an' Wes sent Xander along with me, so I really had to do the checking. Guess he was trying to impress me when he punched Willy the Snitch. Anyway, Willy gave up Spike."
"Gave up?"
"Sang about him like a whiney little birdie. You'd better get him gone, because Xander's got his panties in a bunch and your little pals are full of plans to find him and finish him off themselves."
"My mom's not going to give you my room. You can forget that." Even as she spoke, Buffy was opening the closet, pulling down her duffle bag, filling it with clothes.
"Don't care about the room."
"Someone with a suspicious nature could think you'd set her up, to get her gone."
"I'm gonna miss you, B. I mean, I'm gonna miss what mighta been." Faith sat up, so the sheet fell away from her breasts. "We might live long enough to meet again. Think so?"
"I'm going rogue, and my lover is a hungry vampire. Figure I'm not long for it, either way. Take my advice--whatever happens, never fuck a vampire. Or ... maybe you could get away with it, because you could fuck one and stake him as soon as it was over." She zipped the bag and straightened up. "That would be the kind of thing you'd do."
"I certainly could, yeah. But all the looky ones seem to look at you first."
She was picking through her jewelry box in order to avoid looking at Faith. "I need to write a note to my mom. Will you keep it quiet today that you know I'm gone?"
"I don't know you're gone ..." Faith said, her voice silky. She got slowly out of bed. Buffy could see her in the dresser mirror. As she'd guessed, Faith was naked. She sauntered slowly across to the door. " ... so I'm not gonna offer to kiss you goodbye."
Next ->