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BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
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Reviews:
30
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,314
Reviews:
30
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.
Wesley
Author's Notes: A strange chapter? You betcha. Possible? After all the weird stuff that happened on Buffy and Angel, Hell yeah!
Wesley
It was unusually cold for October, even in New York City, and the dark-haired Englishman had never been so grateful that he was accustomed to cool weather, for he had left his overcoat in the car in his haste to catch up with the marvel – the slayer who had become a vampire.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, at the tender age of twenty-six, had located the legendary Buffy – walking about in the afternoon sun. It was impossible, but yet… there she was. He had written his dissertation on her, had studied her picture for hours on end, and there she was.
He had first seen her as she exited Café Europa, and he had slammed into a no-parking zone, leapt out of his car, and followed her as though his very life depended on it. If his car was towed, it was of no consequence. He had to speak with her. He weaved through the crowd with ease, muttering hasty apologies to those he slammed into, but it was New York – everyone was in a hurry for one reason or another.
Then, it happened. The blonde stopped ten paces ahead of him, glanced over her shoulder, and smiled. The chase was over, and the slayer-turned-vampire waited in the doorway of Sharper Image until the watcher could reach her; when he did, she politely offered him her arm as though she were the English gentleman escorting a woman home.
Wesley could do nothing but stare openly, shocked by her demeanor, and more than a little smitten with her smile. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Unfortunately, she was a demon. Taking her arm, he introduced himself. “I’m Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”
“A watcher, obviously. You already know I’m Buffy.”
“Is it that obvious that I’m a watcher?” he questioned nervously.
“You might as well be wearing a neon sign. It’s the way you look at me. Well, that and the fact that you parked your car in a no-parking zone to chase me.”
“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. H-how is this possible?”
“I guess it’s the same thing that allowed me to keep my soul,” she said with a non-committal shrug. “I don’t know how to explain it anymore than you do. Look, I’m going to be honest with you; if you’re looking to take me to the Council or have me put under a microscope, I won’t stand for it, but I have a proposition for you.”
“W-what’s that?” Usually verbose, even to the point of driving his fellow watchers mad, Wesley had been rendered all but speechless. Buffy, the object of his obsession, had a proposal for him. He was almost guaranteed to accept.
“I need ties to your world. I need information about how to cure Angelus, and you need – or want – to find out everything you can about me. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours,” she said bluntly.
“You know that I can’t abide you killing, Buffy,” the young watcher regretfully informed her. He might well lose his opportunity, but he had a duty to uphold. He couldn’t allow her to kill.
“I’ve been bagging it for years,” she replied wistfully. “Do you have a potential?”
“N-no,” he stammered. “I do field work, research mostly. I am required to check in with the Council regularly, but I have my own life. If I am assigned a potential, I will, of course, have to go where they send me, but for now, I’m free.”
“Good. If I hear anything that might help the slayer, I’ll pass it on to you, and you can keep me in the loop about what’s going on, deal?”
“All right, then. You know that I cannot promise to find a cure for Angelus, nor do I want to, but as far as other things… information, that I can give.”
With a saddened smile, Buffy nodded her understanding. No watcher in his right mind would ever willingly search for a cure for Angelus, but she would have ties to the world she had once belonged to; she would be able to aide the new slayer if she chose to, or at the very least, prevent an apocalypse or two. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Wesley.”
And so the agreement was made. In a world where nothing was simple and no one knew who could be trusted, the former slayer and young watcher had found a kinship in her unwavering loyalty to the human race, and in his fascination with the vampire with a soul.
Wesley
It was unusually cold for October, even in New York City, and the dark-haired Englishman had never been so grateful that he was accustomed to cool weather, for he had left his overcoat in the car in his haste to catch up with the marvel – the slayer who had become a vampire.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, at the tender age of twenty-six, had located the legendary Buffy – walking about in the afternoon sun. It was impossible, but yet… there she was. He had written his dissertation on her, had studied her picture for hours on end, and there she was.
He had first seen her as she exited Café Europa, and he had slammed into a no-parking zone, leapt out of his car, and followed her as though his very life depended on it. If his car was towed, it was of no consequence. He had to speak with her. He weaved through the crowd with ease, muttering hasty apologies to those he slammed into, but it was New York – everyone was in a hurry for one reason or another.
Then, it happened. The blonde stopped ten paces ahead of him, glanced over her shoulder, and smiled. The chase was over, and the slayer-turned-vampire waited in the doorway of Sharper Image until the watcher could reach her; when he did, she politely offered him her arm as though she were the English gentleman escorting a woman home.
Wesley could do nothing but stare openly, shocked by her demeanor, and more than a little smitten with her smile. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Unfortunately, she was a demon. Taking her arm, he introduced himself. “I’m Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”
“A watcher, obviously. You already know I’m Buffy.”
“Is it that obvious that I’m a watcher?” he questioned nervously.
“You might as well be wearing a neon sign. It’s the way you look at me. Well, that and the fact that you parked your car in a no-parking zone to chase me.”
“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. H-how is this possible?”
“I guess it’s the same thing that allowed me to keep my soul,” she said with a non-committal shrug. “I don’t know how to explain it anymore than you do. Look, I’m going to be honest with you; if you’re looking to take me to the Council or have me put under a microscope, I won’t stand for it, but I have a proposition for you.”
“W-what’s that?” Usually verbose, even to the point of driving his fellow watchers mad, Wesley had been rendered all but speechless. Buffy, the object of his obsession, had a proposal for him. He was almost guaranteed to accept.
“I need ties to your world. I need information about how to cure Angelus, and you need – or want – to find out everything you can about me. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours,” she said bluntly.
“You know that I can’t abide you killing, Buffy,” the young watcher regretfully informed her. He might well lose his opportunity, but he had a duty to uphold. He couldn’t allow her to kill.
“I’ve been bagging it for years,” she replied wistfully. “Do you have a potential?”
“N-no,” he stammered. “I do field work, research mostly. I am required to check in with the Council regularly, but I have my own life. If I am assigned a potential, I will, of course, have to go where they send me, but for now, I’m free.”
“Good. If I hear anything that might help the slayer, I’ll pass it on to you, and you can keep me in the loop about what’s going on, deal?”
“All right, then. You know that I cannot promise to find a cure for Angelus, nor do I want to, but as far as other things… information, that I can give.”
With a saddened smile, Buffy nodded her understanding. No watcher in his right mind would ever willingly search for a cure for Angelus, but she would have ties to the world she had once belonged to; she would be able to aide the new slayer if she chose to, or at the very least, prevent an apocalypse or two. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Wesley.”
And so the agreement was made. In a world where nothing was simple and no one knew who could be trusted, the former slayer and young watcher had found a kinship in her unwavering loyalty to the human race, and in his fascination with the vampire with a soul.