Tales From the Nursery
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Spike(William)/Willow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,365
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Spike(William)/Willow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,365
Reviews:
1
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.
Little Boy Blue
Dawn looked down at the picture on the page and couldn’t get over how much it looked like Spike. It was as if someone had captured his face mid-scream, down to the last detail. The resemblance and his total look of horror were enough to make a shiver run down the girl’s spine. She cautiously turned the next page to find the familiar rhyme written in large blue letters…
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow,
The cow’s in the corn…
@@@@@@@@@@
Spike’s mind swam back into consciousness, painfully. He was vaguely aware of feeling warm, a bright light shining on his closed eyelids. Sunlight. Sunlight?! His eyes flew open in shock as he frantically tried to bury himself in the hay he had been sleeping on moments before. However, he soon realized with a pleasant surprise that he was not bursting into flames! The blonde vampire let out a loud whoop of joy, spinning around a few times before throwing himself back onto the pile of hay, a fit of giggles falling from his mouth. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there, but he was determined to enjoy every glorious moment of sunshine he could.
As his laughter began to die down, Spike glanced around, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He seemed to be on some sort of farm. There were sheep grazing in the nearby meadow, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the low mooing sound of cattle. He did not see Red or any of the other Scoobies anywhere, and looking down he realized that wasn’t the only thing that was wrong here. What the hell was he wearing?!
Spike was dressed all in blue, which was in itself not so bad; it was the style of clothing that was the problem. He was wearing some sort of wool suit, in bright blue. There was an old style jacket that came to just above his waist that was covering a blue dress shirt, topped off with a blue bowtie. But that wasn’t the worst of it, the worst was the pants or well knickers really that came to just below his knees, with little buckles on the side at the bottom. Blue stockings, a shade paler than his suit, covered the rest of his thin legs, and to top it off he even had blue shoes (although nowhere near as cool as the suede ones Elvis had), these resembled something the pilgrims would have worn, complete with buckles on top. ‘Bloody hell,’ he thought in disgust, ‘someone has got a really sick sense of humor.’
He pushed himself to his feet, determining that he should probably start looking for the others, but as he went to stand, his hand pushed against something hard in the hay pile. He reached his hand in and pulled out a medium sized brass horn, vaguely resembling a trumpet, which was dangling on a long gold cord. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘it goes with the outfit about as well as anything.’ He slung the trumpet over his shoulder and headed out.
@@@@@@@@@@
Dawn turned the next page and found another picture of Spike in the most ridiculous outfit she had ever seen. She tried hard not to chuckle, after all something hellmouthy was definitely going on here, but still seeing the ‘Big Bad’ dressed like some kind of little Dutch boy, well it was just too funny for words. However, as her chuckling died down a bit, she noticed for the first time the sheep standing behind him. Since when do sheep have red eyes and long sharp teeth? She tried frantically to flip ahead in the book to see if there were any further clues as to what was happening and what, if anything, she could do about it. But the rest of the pages were sealed together. She stared down at the picture of Spike with a growing sense of horror, wishing desperately she could warn him somehow to look behind him, when a new rhyme appeared on the page in front of her.
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep are hungry
For flesh to be torn.
How can the boy
Escape these beasts?
He cannot escape,
He must bloody their fleece…
@@@@@@@@@@
Spike began walking across the meadow, heading toward the farmhouse on the other side. With any luck he would find the others there, and they could start working out how to get out of this place. But as the sun beat down on his face, his steps slowed, and he realized he wasn’t in such a hurry after all. His hand trailed into the longer grass growing up around him, and he plucked a piece placing it in his mouth. He always had loved the countryside. As a lad, his mother would send him to spend summers in the country with his aunt. As an adult and especially as a vampire, he came to appreciate the practicality of the city, but there was still something about looking out over rolling hills and taking in the peace and quiet that was still so appealing to him.
As the bleach blonde strolled along happily, he heard the occasional bleating sound of the sheep grazing around him. However, as he began to pass the small flock, their baaa’s became more insistent and seemed to be getting closer. ‘Must be curious about me,’ he thought, as the wooly creatures continued to draw nearer to him. Suddenly, a loud bleating sound came from directly behind him, causing him to jump from the shock of it. Spike spun around to face the creature that dared to sneak up on him, and came face to face with some sort of monster.
It was still short and fluffy, but its eyes were glowing red in a fashion that was most unnatural, and its teeth had grown long and jagged. Spike had never spent much time around farm animals, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that this creature and the others as well, were somehow evil. That’s right, they were demon sheep.
Spike took one step back, and then another, but his retreat was soon halted by another lambkin beast that had moved up behind him. This was definitely not good. As his attention was focused on the creature behind him, the one in front of him lunged forward, attaching its razor sharp teeth on Spike’s arm. A scream tore from his throat as he felt the teeth sinking into his flesh. The bleach blonde grabbed the monster by its wooly head, trying to dislodge the limb, but found his vampire strength failing him.
His mind was reeling with the pain as he tried to yank his arm free, but as he was busy with this task, a second attacker came from behind, biting him high up on the back of his right thigh. Spike screamed again as the new pain caused his leg to go out and he fell onto one knee. Luckily, the sudden motion managed to pull his arm free, and he came back up swinging. With the horn grasped firmly between both hands, he swung witl hil his strength, bashing one creature in the head with the up swing and the other with the down swing. Sadly, the blows didn’t kill either of them, but it did seem to stun them momentarily, giving Spike a chance to make a run for it.
He got to his feet and began limping as quickly as possible towards the farmhouse, yelling for help. He glanced behind him and saw that more than a dozen of the bleating, drooling beasts were now quickly closing in on him. If he didn’t get some help soon, he was done for. Then a thought occurred to him, the horn. Maybe its sound would travel farther and bring help. He put the now slightly bent horn to his lips and tried to blow as he ran for his life, but he had trouble catching his breath enough to produce more than a mere squeak. Breath?! Since when did he need to breathe, and why hadn’t he noticed this before?! It was a question that would have to be answered later though, assuming he survived.
Spike saw the farmhouse drawing closer, and cursed himself for spending more than a hundred years as a chain smoker. In a last ditch effort, he drew in the largest breath he could, not daring to look behind him, the sounds of hooves pounding the earth drawing nearer as he blew in the horn with everything he had, his very life depending on it.
The sounds of hooves behind him stopped, and were replaced by a squealing sound that could only be described as blood curdling. Spike reluctantly turned to face the sound, seeing that no help was coming and that he was surely turning to face his own demise. The sight that met his eyes however, filled him with hope. The sheep creatures were falling to the ground, seemingly in pain. Their red, glowing eyes rolled up into their heads as their bodies began to swell. Spike began backing away again as their bodies burst one after another, in an explosion of blood and thicker things, crimson fleece flying everywhere.
When it was done, he just stood for a moment, staring at the remaining gore in shock. He looked down at the horn still clasped in his hand, and a lopsided grin spread across his face. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘and I’ve never even had one lesson.’
To be continued…
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow,
The cow’s in the corn…
@@@@@@@@@@
Spike’s mind swam back into consciousness, painfully. He was vaguely aware of feeling warm, a bright light shining on his closed eyelids. Sunlight. Sunlight?! His eyes flew open in shock as he frantically tried to bury himself in the hay he had been sleeping on moments before. However, he soon realized with a pleasant surprise that he was not bursting into flames! The blonde vampire let out a loud whoop of joy, spinning around a few times before throwing himself back onto the pile of hay, a fit of giggles falling from his mouth. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there, but he was determined to enjoy every glorious moment of sunshine he could.
As his laughter began to die down, Spike glanced around, taking in his surroundings for the first time. He seemed to be on some sort of farm. There were sheep grazing in the nearby meadow, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the low mooing sound of cattle. He did not see Red or any of the other Scoobies anywhere, and looking down he realized that wasn’t the only thing that was wrong here. What the hell was he wearing?!
Spike was dressed all in blue, which was in itself not so bad; it was the style of clothing that was the problem. He was wearing some sort of wool suit, in bright blue. There was an old style jacket that came to just above his waist that was covering a blue dress shirt, topped off with a blue bowtie. But that wasn’t the worst of it, the worst was the pants or well knickers really that came to just below his knees, with little buckles on the side at the bottom. Blue stockings, a shade paler than his suit, covered the rest of his thin legs, and to top it off he even had blue shoes (although nowhere near as cool as the suede ones Elvis had), these resembled something the pilgrims would have worn, complete with buckles on top. ‘Bloody hell,’ he thought in disgust, ‘someone has got a really sick sense of humor.’
He pushed himself to his feet, determining that he should probably start looking for the others, but as he went to stand, his hand pushed against something hard in the hay pile. He reached his hand in and pulled out a medium sized brass horn, vaguely resembling a trumpet, which was dangling on a long gold cord. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘it goes with the outfit about as well as anything.’ He slung the trumpet over his shoulder and headed out.
@@@@@@@@@@
Dawn turned the next page and found another picture of Spike in the most ridiculous outfit she had ever seen. She tried hard not to chuckle, after all something hellmouthy was definitely going on here, but still seeing the ‘Big Bad’ dressed like some kind of little Dutch boy, well it was just too funny for words. However, as her chuckling died down a bit, she noticed for the first time the sheep standing behind him. Since when do sheep have red eyes and long sharp teeth? She tried frantically to flip ahead in the book to see if there were any further clues as to what was happening and what, if anything, she could do about it. But the rest of the pages were sealed together. She stared down at the picture of Spike with a growing sense of horror, wishing desperately she could warn him somehow to look behind him, when a new rhyme appeared on the page in front of her.
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep are hungry
For flesh to be torn.
How can the boy
Escape these beasts?
He cannot escape,
He must bloody their fleece…
@@@@@@@@@@
Spike began walking across the meadow, heading toward the farmhouse on the other side. With any luck he would find the others there, and they could start working out how to get out of this place. But as the sun beat down on his face, his steps slowed, and he realized he wasn’t in such a hurry after all. His hand trailed into the longer grass growing up around him, and he plucked a piece placing it in his mouth. He always had loved the countryside. As a lad, his mother would send him to spend summers in the country with his aunt. As an adult and especially as a vampire, he came to appreciate the practicality of the city, but there was still something about looking out over rolling hills and taking in the peace and quiet that was still so appealing to him.
As the bleach blonde strolled along happily, he heard the occasional bleating sound of the sheep grazing around him. However, as he began to pass the small flock, their baaa’s became more insistent and seemed to be getting closer. ‘Must be curious about me,’ he thought, as the wooly creatures continued to draw nearer to him. Suddenly, a loud bleating sound came from directly behind him, causing him to jump from the shock of it. Spike spun around to face the creature that dared to sneak up on him, and came face to face with some sort of monster.
It was still short and fluffy, but its eyes were glowing red in a fashion that was most unnatural, and its teeth had grown long and jagged. Spike had never spent much time around farm animals, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that this creature and the others as well, were somehow evil. That’s right, they were demon sheep.
Spike took one step back, and then another, but his retreat was soon halted by another lambkin beast that had moved up behind him. This was definitely not good. As his attention was focused on the creature behind him, the one in front of him lunged forward, attaching its razor sharp teeth on Spike’s arm. A scream tore from his throat as he felt the teeth sinking into his flesh. The bleach blonde grabbed the monster by its wooly head, trying to dislodge the limb, but found his vampire strength failing him.
His mind was reeling with the pain as he tried to yank his arm free, but as he was busy with this task, a second attacker came from behind, biting him high up on the back of his right thigh. Spike screamed again as the new pain caused his leg to go out and he fell onto one knee. Luckily, the sudden motion managed to pull his arm free, and he came back up swinging. With the horn grasped firmly between both hands, he swung witl hil his strength, bashing one creature in the head with the up swing and the other with the down swing. Sadly, the blows didn’t kill either of them, but it did seem to stun them momentarily, giving Spike a chance to make a run for it.
He got to his feet and began limping as quickly as possible towards the farmhouse, yelling for help. He glanced behind him and saw that more than a dozen of the bleating, drooling beasts were now quickly closing in on him. If he didn’t get some help soon, he was done for. Then a thought occurred to him, the horn. Maybe its sound would travel farther and bring help. He put the now slightly bent horn to his lips and tried to blow as he ran for his life, but he had trouble catching his breath enough to produce more than a mere squeak. Breath?! Since when did he need to breathe, and why hadn’t he noticed this before?! It was a question that would have to be answered later though, assuming he survived.
Spike saw the farmhouse drawing closer, and cursed himself for spending more than a hundred years as a chain smoker. In a last ditch effort, he drew in the largest breath he could, not daring to look behind him, the sounds of hooves pounding the earth drawing nearer as he blew in the horn with everything he had, his very life depending on it.
The sounds of hooves behind him stopped, and were replaced by a squealing sound that could only be described as blood curdling. Spike reluctantly turned to face the sound, seeing that no help was coming and that he was surely turning to face his own demise. The sight that met his eyes however, filled him with hope. The sheep creatures were falling to the ground, seemingly in pain. Their red, glowing eyes rolled up into their heads as their bodies began to swell. Spike began backing away again as their bodies burst one after another, in an explosion of blood and thicker things, crimson fleece flying everywhere.
When it was done, he just stood for a moment, staring at the remaining gore in shock. He looked down at the horn still clasped in his hand, and a lopsided grin spread across his face. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘and I’ve never even had one lesson.’
To be continued…