An Englishman in New York
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
6,093
Reviews:
76
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
6,093
Reviews:
76
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.
I'll Be Home For Christmas
A/N: Thanks so much to my reviewers. I love you guys!
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Nearly five months had passed since the Roommate Incident, and the blonde pair had settled into a comfortable routine. They bickered in the morning about whose turn it was to get coffee and breakfast, attended psychology (a class Spike now hated ever since Buffy had begun seeing the poncy-boy TA, Riley), and then had lunch. They parted ways until English Literature, a class Spike excelled in, and then separated again until dinner, which was usually spent in the company of Oz, Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya.
Every Friday, the Dingoes would play at one of the many campus parties and, in spite of her relationship with Riley, Buffy was always in attendance. She had heard from Xander that the one time she had been absent due to a horrible cold, Spike had done the unthinkable and messed up on a song. The knowledge that he played better with her there still made her smile.
They had yet to discuss Angel and Drusilla in any detail, though Buffy now knew that Drusilla had died a tragic death, though she wasn’t certain of the circumstances, and she had confessed to Spike the rather impressive age difference between Angel and herself – twelve years.
It didn’t seem all that important given their relationship. The things that mattered most to their friendship, laughter, comfort, and support – with the occasional dose of snarky humor and snippy comments – were freely given.
As she finished packing her bag for her Christmas sojourn in LA, Buffy glanced up to find Spike watching her, something he had been doing more and more frequently of late. She smiled when she caught him and, rather than looking away as he usually did, he returned the smile.
“All ready, then?” he asked, taking a lazy draw off his cigarette as he fiddled with his CD player; John Lennon’s ‘God’ filtered through the speakers.
“Yup,” she replied, zipping up her suitcase. She bounded off her bed and flopped down beside Spike, her head instinctively finding the firm pillow of his thigh. After having spent so much time together, she no longer thought anything of being so close to him. It was like spending time with Xander – only she’d never sneaked glances at Xander’s bum when he changed clothes in front of her.
“Tell me again why you’re not going with White Bread back to Indiana.”
“Iowa, and stop calling him that, damnit. You have me calling him that and I almost slipped up. I already told you, he asked, I said I’d rather spend time with my mom and Dawn.”
Chuckling, Spike crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray and set it aside, absently brushing a golden tendril away from Buffy’s face as he looked down at her. He’d known from the moment he’d laid eyes on her that she was beautiful, but it seemed that she became more and more exquisite with each day. When he was around her, he felt the strange urge to write poetry, even if it was bloody awful.
“Why aren’t you going home to England?” Buffy inquired, a hint of a secretive smile gracing her full lips. Spike’s 21st birthday was on December 23rd, and Buffy had planned a wonderful surprise party.
“You’re smilin’ like the Cheshire cat again, and I’m not goin’ back because Mum and Dad aren’t even gonna be there. They’re on holiday or somethin’ of the sort.”
“Remember how you said we could give each other our presents before I left?” she prompted.
Laughing, Spike mussed her hair. “Bleedin’ Hell, woman! I’ve got your soddin’ present right here, but you’ll have to move for a bit.”
Buffy immediately climbed off the bed and grabbed an envelope from her bag before returning to the bed. “I’ll open mine first,” she said with an enigmatic smile.
“Whatever you say, Slayer,” he replied, pressing an expertly wrapped box into her hand. He had spent nearly and hour making certain that the wrapping was neat and even and had been teased unmercifully by Xander for the doing of it.
Seeing how carefully the box had been wrapped, Buffy opened it with similar care, slipping the box out of the paper rather than tearing it to ribbons as she usually did. Glancing up at Spike, she opened the box. Within was a small but ornate Gothic cross made of silver. She gasped in surprise. “Oh, wow…”
Suddenly nervous, Spike lit a cigarette and found a fascinating spot on the wall behind Buffy’s head. “It’s, y’know, to keep the vampires away, seeing how it’s silver and all.”
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, fastening the chain around her neck. In that brief moment, she considered kissing him, but that would make him uncomfortable and then he would never accept her gift. Without further adieu, she handed him the envelope. “Before you open it, you have to promise you’ll take it.”
“Slayer, this better not be a gift certificate to a salon,” Spike warned. Buffy always teased him about his hair and had once threatened to dye it while he slept, but he had noticed that she no longer seemed as fascinated by tall, dark, and handsome, her old type. Her doof of a boyfriend was a sandy blonde.
“Promise me and open it!” Buffy demanded, all but squirming on his bed as she watched him. It was imperative that he accept his gift.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, pet. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.” Fearing that he might regret his words, Spike opened the envelope to find a plane ticket to LA – the same flight Buffy was scheduled to leave on in the morning. His scarred eyebrow shot up in surprise.
“You have to say yes…” she reminded him. “No one should be alone on Christmas, least of all you because your birthday is only two days before.”
“Your mum –”
“When I told her that you’d be staying here alone, she offered to send you a ticket, too, so it’s not even a real present, at least not from me. Your real present is waiting in LA.”
“You were that sure I’d say yes, pet?”
“You had to, and I would have sulked and pouted until you caved.”
“Right, that,” he agreed. Without warning, he drew her against his chest in a fierce hug. Oz had offered to take him along on his road-trip to Canada with Willow and Tara, and even Xander and Anya had asked him if he wanted to stay with them, but Buffy had left him no choice.
With a contented sigh, Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders and settled her head on his chest. This was something she never did with Xander, and she was well aware of the difference.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Nearly five months had passed since the Roommate Incident, and the blonde pair had settled into a comfortable routine. They bickered in the morning about whose turn it was to get coffee and breakfast, attended psychology (a class Spike now hated ever since Buffy had begun seeing the poncy-boy TA, Riley), and then had lunch. They parted ways until English Literature, a class Spike excelled in, and then separated again until dinner, which was usually spent in the company of Oz, Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya.
Every Friday, the Dingoes would play at one of the many campus parties and, in spite of her relationship with Riley, Buffy was always in attendance. She had heard from Xander that the one time she had been absent due to a horrible cold, Spike had done the unthinkable and messed up on a song. The knowledge that he played better with her there still made her smile.
They had yet to discuss Angel and Drusilla in any detail, though Buffy now knew that Drusilla had died a tragic death, though she wasn’t certain of the circumstances, and she had confessed to Spike the rather impressive age difference between Angel and herself – twelve years.
It didn’t seem all that important given their relationship. The things that mattered most to their friendship, laughter, comfort, and support – with the occasional dose of snarky humor and snippy comments – were freely given.
As she finished packing her bag for her Christmas sojourn in LA, Buffy glanced up to find Spike watching her, something he had been doing more and more frequently of late. She smiled when she caught him and, rather than looking away as he usually did, he returned the smile.
“All ready, then?” he asked, taking a lazy draw off his cigarette as he fiddled with his CD player; John Lennon’s ‘God’ filtered through the speakers.
“Yup,” she replied, zipping up her suitcase. She bounded off her bed and flopped down beside Spike, her head instinctively finding the firm pillow of his thigh. After having spent so much time together, she no longer thought anything of being so close to him. It was like spending time with Xander – only she’d never sneaked glances at Xander’s bum when he changed clothes in front of her.
“Tell me again why you’re not going with White Bread back to Indiana.”
“Iowa, and stop calling him that, damnit. You have me calling him that and I almost slipped up. I already told you, he asked, I said I’d rather spend time with my mom and Dawn.”
Chuckling, Spike crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray and set it aside, absently brushing a golden tendril away from Buffy’s face as he looked down at her. He’d known from the moment he’d laid eyes on her that she was beautiful, but it seemed that she became more and more exquisite with each day. When he was around her, he felt the strange urge to write poetry, even if it was bloody awful.
“Why aren’t you going home to England?” Buffy inquired, a hint of a secretive smile gracing her full lips. Spike’s 21st birthday was on December 23rd, and Buffy had planned a wonderful surprise party.
“You’re smilin’ like the Cheshire cat again, and I’m not goin’ back because Mum and Dad aren’t even gonna be there. They’re on holiday or somethin’ of the sort.”
“Remember how you said we could give each other our presents before I left?” she prompted.
Laughing, Spike mussed her hair. “Bleedin’ Hell, woman! I’ve got your soddin’ present right here, but you’ll have to move for a bit.”
Buffy immediately climbed off the bed and grabbed an envelope from her bag before returning to the bed. “I’ll open mine first,” she said with an enigmatic smile.
“Whatever you say, Slayer,” he replied, pressing an expertly wrapped box into her hand. He had spent nearly and hour making certain that the wrapping was neat and even and had been teased unmercifully by Xander for the doing of it.
Seeing how carefully the box had been wrapped, Buffy opened it with similar care, slipping the box out of the paper rather than tearing it to ribbons as she usually did. Glancing up at Spike, she opened the box. Within was a small but ornate Gothic cross made of silver. She gasped in surprise. “Oh, wow…”
Suddenly nervous, Spike lit a cigarette and found a fascinating spot on the wall behind Buffy’s head. “It’s, y’know, to keep the vampires away, seeing how it’s silver and all.”
“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, fastening the chain around her neck. In that brief moment, she considered kissing him, but that would make him uncomfortable and then he would never accept her gift. Without further adieu, she handed him the envelope. “Before you open it, you have to promise you’ll take it.”
“Slayer, this better not be a gift certificate to a salon,” Spike warned. Buffy always teased him about his hair and had once threatened to dye it while he slept, but he had noticed that she no longer seemed as fascinated by tall, dark, and handsome, her old type. Her doof of a boyfriend was a sandy blonde.
“Promise me and open it!” Buffy demanded, all but squirming on his bed as she watched him. It was imperative that he accept his gift.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, pet. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.” Fearing that he might regret his words, Spike opened the envelope to find a plane ticket to LA – the same flight Buffy was scheduled to leave on in the morning. His scarred eyebrow shot up in surprise.
“You have to say yes…” she reminded him. “No one should be alone on Christmas, least of all you because your birthday is only two days before.”
“Your mum –”
“When I told her that you’d be staying here alone, she offered to send you a ticket, too, so it’s not even a real present, at least not from me. Your real present is waiting in LA.”
“You were that sure I’d say yes, pet?”
“You had to, and I would have sulked and pouted until you caved.”
“Right, that,” he agreed. Without warning, he drew her against his chest in a fierce hug. Oz had offered to take him along on his road-trip to Canada with Willow and Tara, and even Xander and Anya had asked him if he wanted to stay with them, but Buffy had left him no choice.
With a contented sigh, Buffy wrapped her arms around his shoulders and settled her head on his chest. This was something she never did with Xander, and she was well aware of the difference.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”