Closed Door Conversations
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,330
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
3,330
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Closed Door Conversations
Closed Door Conversations
Spoiler : Between ‘Lies My Parents Told Me’, and ‘Dirty Girls’
By: Nightmelody
nightmelody@hotmail.com reviews welcome
rated :R
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything, characters etc belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The story is written for pleasure, not profit.
Closed Door Conversations
First Night: Mothers
Buffy knew she had a new picture that would haunt her in the night now. The picture of Gile’s face as she shut the door. The picture of a friend she could no longer trust.
She sighed and leaned her forehead against the bedroom door, eyes closed. She was so tired, bone melting through flesh tired. Tired of killing, tired of constant danger, tired of friends turned dangerous, tired of responsibility. Tired of being alone.
Not that there was much chance of being alone and lonely, not in this house, she thought, hearing a tiny sound at the window.
“Come on in, Spike,” she said, not even bothering to turn around before she spoke. Who else would creep to her second floor window so quietly?
Spike glided through the window, the leather of his coat making a small flapping sound..
“I wanted to let you know that the detriggering spell worked. Didn’t know if Wood would pass on the good news.” He spoke with a tinge of sarcasm.
Wood hadn’t.
Buffy sank down onto her bed, absorbing the news, feeling almost dizzy with the relief. It had worked! The First no longer had a weapon in Spike!
Maybe the dreams of driving a stake through his carved ivory chest would stop now. Tears slipped through her closed eyelids.
“Buffy, are you all right?” Spikes eye’s looked huge in the dim light of her room.
“I should be asking you that.” She reached up and gently touched the side of his face. He did not flinch.
“Sit down and let me clean that for you.” She went to the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth and towel and proceeded to clean his wounds.
“You look tired,” Spike said.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted.
“Well then, my good news should help. Speaking of sleeping, I think I’ll sleep at Clem’s tonight. Might be safer, considering...” He rose to leave.
Buffy grabbed his arm.
“Stay. For a while? Tell me about the detriggering.”
He was silent a moment. “Okay.”
He sat back down, awkwardly, on the edge of the bed.
“Well, Wood had that song on his computer. Wanted to dance with the demon who killed his Mom. Then he proceeded to beat the crap out of me.”
“And while he hammered on me, I remembered my mum, that whole sad story.”
“Sad story?” Buffy asked. A sad mom story, like her’s...
“You’d have liked my mum. She was sweet and kind, not too stern, but she raised me to be a gentleman. Joyce...reminded me of Mum, a lot.”
Buffy remembered that he had liked her mother. And Mom had liked him.
“Back then,” he continued, “there was no cure for TB. Consumption, they called it then. A cruel death. Mum didn’t have long for this world.”
“She used to sing, before she got sick. Church choir, entertained family and friends, that sort of thing. Until she couldn’t breathe, like singers need to do.”
“When I was little, before I went away to school, she sang me to sleep, stroking my little blond curls.” There was humor in his tone..
“ Early one morning,just as the sun was shi- i- ning.” Spike sang the phrase, softly. “ Her favorite lullaby.”
It was so weird to think of Spike with a mother who sang lullabies and petted his curls.
“Sometimes she would still sing a phrase or two, because she so loved to sing. Heard her sing that song a couple of nights before I met Druscilla. She’d had a bad spell, coughing up blood. Beginning of the end.”
“Then Cecily broke my heart and Druscilla offered me a better life.” He snorted.
“After I was turned I went back to my Mum. I thought I had the gift of life for her. No more agony, no more coughing up blood until she finally drowned in it. So I turned her into a vampire.”
Buffy drew in a surprised gasp of air.
"But Mum, she didn’t come back like my Mum. She came back like Angelus. Cruel and wicked. Horrible.”
“And she hated me. Would have killed me, I think.” He was silent, his face turned away so Buffy couldn’t see his distress.
“I killed her. Right there in the drawing room. Staked her through the heart. And just a few nights before we’d been sitting together while she did some needlework, singing softly...”
“That’s when I became Spike.”
“Oh God, Spike,” Buffy spoke through tears. It was so like what she had done to Angel.
“But now I know. My mum, she died when I turned her. That vampire, she wasn’t my mum. All that was in there was demon. My real mother loved me. That’s what the First didn’t want me to know.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re different,” Buffy said , after a silence.
“What do you mean?” Spike asked.
“Different than other vampire’s. I know you had that chip, but you still could have killed me, all last year. Angel would have killed me, if he’d been without his soul. Maybe because you had a mother that loved you, you kept...I don’t know...some of your goodness.”
“Maybe.”
“Spike, do you think that tomorrow, before we patrol, we could put some flowers on Mom’s grave? I’d like to do that. I’d like you to come, too.”
She waited, nervous as if she’d invited him to the Prom or something.
“Sure, Buffy, that would be nice.”
His voice came out a little husky.
“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered, like a night breeze. Then a fleeting brush of cool fingers across her damp cheek and he was gone.
Spoiler : Between ‘Lies My Parents Told Me’, and ‘Dirty Girls’
By: Nightmelody
nightmelody@hotmail.com reviews welcome
rated :R
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything, characters etc belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The story is written for pleasure, not profit.
Closed Door Conversations
First Night: Mothers
Buffy knew she had a new picture that would haunt her in the night now. The picture of Gile’s face as she shut the door. The picture of a friend she could no longer trust.
She sighed and leaned her forehead against the bedroom door, eyes closed. She was so tired, bone melting through flesh tired. Tired of killing, tired of constant danger, tired of friends turned dangerous, tired of responsibility. Tired of being alone.
Not that there was much chance of being alone and lonely, not in this house, she thought, hearing a tiny sound at the window.
“Come on in, Spike,” she said, not even bothering to turn around before she spoke. Who else would creep to her second floor window so quietly?
Spike glided through the window, the leather of his coat making a small flapping sound..
“I wanted to let you know that the detriggering spell worked. Didn’t know if Wood would pass on the good news.” He spoke with a tinge of sarcasm.
Wood hadn’t.
Buffy sank down onto her bed, absorbing the news, feeling almost dizzy with the relief. It had worked! The First no longer had a weapon in Spike!
Maybe the dreams of driving a stake through his carved ivory chest would stop now. Tears slipped through her closed eyelids.
“Buffy, are you all right?” Spikes eye’s looked huge in the dim light of her room.
“I should be asking you that.” She reached up and gently touched the side of his face. He did not flinch.
“Sit down and let me clean that for you.” She went to the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth and towel and proceeded to clean his wounds.
“You look tired,” Spike said.
“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted.
“Well then, my good news should help. Speaking of sleeping, I think I’ll sleep at Clem’s tonight. Might be safer, considering...” He rose to leave.
Buffy grabbed his arm.
“Stay. For a while? Tell me about the detriggering.”
He was silent a moment. “Okay.”
He sat back down, awkwardly, on the edge of the bed.
“Well, Wood had that song on his computer. Wanted to dance with the demon who killed his Mom. Then he proceeded to beat the crap out of me.”
“And while he hammered on me, I remembered my mum, that whole sad story.”
“Sad story?” Buffy asked. A sad mom story, like her’s...
“You’d have liked my mum. She was sweet and kind, not too stern, but she raised me to be a gentleman. Joyce...reminded me of Mum, a lot.”
Buffy remembered that he had liked her mother. And Mom had liked him.
“Back then,” he continued, “there was no cure for TB. Consumption, they called it then. A cruel death. Mum didn’t have long for this world.”
“She used to sing, before she got sick. Church choir, entertained family and friends, that sort of thing. Until she couldn’t breathe, like singers need to do.”
“When I was little, before I went away to school, she sang me to sleep, stroking my little blond curls.” There was humor in his tone..
“ Early one morning,just as the sun was shi- i- ning.” Spike sang the phrase, softly. “ Her favorite lullaby.”
It was so weird to think of Spike with a mother who sang lullabies and petted his curls.
“Sometimes she would still sing a phrase or two, because she so loved to sing. Heard her sing that song a couple of nights before I met Druscilla. She’d had a bad spell, coughing up blood. Beginning of the end.”
“Then Cecily broke my heart and Druscilla offered me a better life.” He snorted.
“After I was turned I went back to my Mum. I thought I had the gift of life for her. No more agony, no more coughing up blood until she finally drowned in it. So I turned her into a vampire.”
Buffy drew in a surprised gasp of air.
"But Mum, she didn’t come back like my Mum. She came back like Angelus. Cruel and wicked. Horrible.”
“And she hated me. Would have killed me, I think.” He was silent, his face turned away so Buffy couldn’t see his distress.
“I killed her. Right there in the drawing room. Staked her through the heart. And just a few nights before we’d been sitting together while she did some needlework, singing softly...”
“That’s when I became Spike.”
“Oh God, Spike,” Buffy spoke through tears. It was so like what she had done to Angel.
“But now I know. My mum, she died when I turned her. That vampire, she wasn’t my mum. All that was in there was demon. My real mother loved me. That’s what the First didn’t want me to know.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re different,” Buffy said , after a silence.
“What do you mean?” Spike asked.
“Different than other vampire’s. I know you had that chip, but you still could have killed me, all last year. Angel would have killed me, if he’d been without his soul. Maybe because you had a mother that loved you, you kept...I don’t know...some of your goodness.”
“Maybe.”
“Spike, do you think that tomorrow, before we patrol, we could put some flowers on Mom’s grave? I’d like to do that. I’d like you to come, too.”
She waited, nervous as if she’d invited him to the Prom or something.
“Sure, Buffy, that would be nice.”
His voice came out a little husky.
“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered, like a night breeze. Then a fleeting brush of cool fingers across her damp cheek and he was gone.