The Taken Care Of Series

Spike's Letter

Taken Care Of Series – Part 12


Story: Taken Care Of Series

Author: Bek Allen

Chapter: 12/16

Title: Spike's Letter

Disclaimer: The disclaimer for this story is at the beginning… Don't sue, or, I'll do something really, really, evil… much like set my insane cat on you. The poem Joyce writes in Spike's letter is called ‘Sally In Our Alley.' By Henry Carey. I do not own any part of the poem it is purely his genius work. I just used it because I felt that if Joyce and Spike were all couple-y, then he'd probably do something super romantic for her, like read her a book of poetry, or at least, a single poem. And, this poem really kind of reminded me of the two of them (if they were all couple-y).

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The door to the basement flew open and the younger Summers marched down the stairs, her face a mixture of anger and confusion.

“What the? Niblet?” Spike flew up from the cot where he had been reading. “What's wrong?” He rushed over to her but shrank back when he realised that her frustrated mood seemed to be directed at him.

“What do you think this is! You were suppose to read this nearly six weeks ago!” She thrust the cream envelope she had been holding into his face. “My mom wrote this just for you and you're just going to let it sit in your jeans pocket and pretend it doesn't exist?!”

“Now, now Bit. Just take a calming breath okay? In… Out…” He backed away from her slowly. “Now, why don't you just give me what's mine and be on your merry way. I'm positive you've got home work you should be doing or possibly even taking Noel out for a walk?”

Dawn clutched the letter close to her chest. “I'll go and do my chores if you promise to read this letter. Mom wrote it especially for you Spike, she meant for you to read it. Not try and run it through the washing machine to get all soggy.”

“Fine… I'll read it if it'll make you bloody happy okay?” He reached out and snatched the letter from the young girl's chest and pushed her toward the stairs gently. “A little privacy wouldn't go astray. Now, take that snack on four legs for a walk.”

Dawn grinned and gave him a quick hug before running up the stairs and slamming the door shut, locking out the afternoon sun. Spike sighed and moved back to the cot that was serving as his bed while he was staying in the basement. As he sat, he pulled a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and took one out, as he lit it, he gazed at the envelope longingly, his mind whirling with what was inside. He sighed as he realised that, the contents of Joyce's last thoughts to him had the power to either make or break his un-dead heart.

“What did you have to say to me Joyce that I didn't already know?” Carefully, he slid a finger beneath the flap and removed the letter, his eyes already misting over at the thought of seeing the oh-so-familiar handwriting once again.

“My Beloved William,

You've taken your time in reading this. And, I'm ashamed to say, that, I had hoped you would of. This is most possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Not even when I was writing Buffy or Dawn's letter, did I feel this utterly heartbroken. You have no idea how much this letter has pained me, with each word, my heart breaks a little more. I can hardly believe that, what happened between us happened. I feel like a total hypocrite, especially when I remember how I reacted when Buffy told me about the relationship between her and Angel. Well, at least you never had a soul to lose my Love – petty and childish, I know, but, it's the way of women the world over.”

Spike quickly brushed at the drops of moisture he felt trickling down his cheeks.

“Now, I know your heart may be cold and it doesn't beat. But, I feel, that, when we are together, you express true and deep seated emotion. I have never known a more caring or more gentle man in my entire forty-five years. .And it may just be the fact that you are One Hundred and thirty-four years old, or it could just be that, you allow yourself, to feel emotion like any regular man. Maybe you just think I'm crazy for loving you the way that I do, and, most possibly I am. But, the night that you came to me and told me how you felt, just shortly after that incident with Dracula, I knew I could never love another so much as I loved you.

“You continually surprise me William, with your ability to accept the love that you have for everyone around you, and for the love you receive in return. That is why I know I have done the right thing in making you one of Dawn's legal guardians. Your surpressed demon half, makes you no less of a man, then either Xander or Giles. I know that, in my heart of hearts, you will always be William Barrett, the man I love and care for, and never Spike the Vampire who terrorized innocent people for over a century.”

He was openly weeping now, his cigarette forgotten so that it had burnt down to the butt, exstinguishing by itself.

“I really, don't know what to say anymore my Love besides I love you and I will carry you in my heart always, just as I know you will me. I look forward to being reunited with you one day, here among the Heavens, where we can enjoy both the sunshine and star light together. So, I decided, I'd leave you with our poem. You remember, the one you recited to me when we snuck out for that late night picnic down at the park?

You are a great man William Barrett, one that I am proud to call my own, my lover, and, as far as in our hearts are concerned, my husband. You will truly shine and I know that you will be a great inspiration to both Dawn and the others.”

A soft moan escaped his lips as his body became wracked with heavy sobs. Pink tinged tears slowly began to stain the edges of the letter. “Oh Joyce.” He managed in a soft whisper.

“Of all the girls that are so smart

There's none like pretty Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

There is no lady in the land

Is half so sweet as Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets

And through the streets does cry ‘em;

Her mother she sells laces long

To such as please to buy ‘em:

But sure such folks could ne'er beget

So sweet a girl as Sally!

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work,

I love her so sincerely;

My master comes like any Turk,

And bangs me most severely-

But let him bang his bellyful,

I'll bear it all for Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that's in the week

I dearly love but one day-

And that's the day that comes betwixt

A Saturday and Monday;

For then I'm drest all in my best

To walk abroad with Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,

And often am I blamed

Because I leave him in the lurch

As soon as text is named;

I leave the church in sermon-time

And slink away to Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again

O then I shall have money;

I'll hoard it up, and box it all,

I'll give it to my honey:

I would it were ten thousand pound,

I'd give it all to Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbours all

Make game of me and Sally,

And, but for her, I'd better be

A slave and row a galley;

But when my seven long years are out

O then I'll marry Sally,-

O then we'll wed, and then we'll bed…

But not in our alley!”

A tiny laugh bubbled up from Spike's throat as he read over their most favored poem and as he remembered the trouble he had gone to in organizing the late night picnic with Joyce out of everyone's way so they wouldn't catch them. He smiled at the way they had giggled like teenagers as they snuck back inside the house.

“I love you dearly Spike, please watch over my daughter's, our girls. They will both need your help in the years to come, and they both value your friendship, more then you'll ever realize.

I love you William Barrett.

Yours Always,

Love

Joyce.”

Spike smiled to himself and folded the letter back up, gingerly putting it back in the envelope. “I love you too Joyce. Always.” He whispered as he slid the envelope under the mattress of the cot and stood up to go face Buffy and the others before heading out to visit Joyce.