Spuffyficathon, Part 1
Sep. 1st, 2004 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedeadlyhookSince this one's going to take me awhile to fully finish and it's going to be more than one part, I figured I'd start posting some of it now. This fic is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
exchanged's Spuffyficathon. It's possibly the silliest thing I've ever done, a sort of combination of a road trip fic and bedroom farce, with Buffy and Spike traveling to Bakersfield to visit a demon for Anya.
For:foggi
Assignment: Optional Dawn or Anya, Funny Dialogue/Banter, Have them go somewhere non-Sunnydale-ish, A Spuffy Kiss at least; No Character Bashing, Not overly fluffy, don't use the other charcter besides Spike and Buffy if there's not a way to make it make sense, ya know? ;)
And here's what I did: This is set during Season 6, between "Gone" and "Doublemeat Palace," because that strikes me as the golden moment for comedy-plus-sexual-tension in the Spuffy relationship... well, in S6 anyway, don't ask me why. In another sense, this is me trying to explore Buffy's tendency toward no-yes-no. Buffy POV.
Dirty Back Road, Part One
----------
"So, are you interested?"
Buffy just blinked. Anya was smiling cheerily, expectant look on her face, as if she'd made a terrific announcement and was just waiting for congratulations.
They were in the Magic Box. Of course, because where else would she be if she wasn't at home? She'd come to the store with half an idea about talking to Xander, no real thought about what she wanted to say... but then had remembered that duh, it was daytime, and like normal people he had a job. So here she was, talking to Anya. Who was offering her some kind of job.
Buffy sighed. "You want me to go talk to this Ken demon thingy?"
"Kendrun demon. He's one of my Magic Box suppliers. Or more specifically, he's the boss of a consortium of magical product purveyors. You know, rare items--sorcerers' stones, eyes of Agamotto, mummy hands--high end stuff."
"Uh-huh. And you need me to deliver--"
"This." Anya whipped out an object from behind the counter, plopped it into her hand. It was a red cotton lunch bag, decorated with dancing Snoopys. Surprisingly heavy.
"It's my quarterly tribute from the Magic Box."
"Tribute," Buffy echoed.
"Kendrun demons are very hierarchical. All business associations have to be very carefully prioritized based on personal associations and financial gain. Like the Sopranos."
Buffy took a breath, held it. Counted to ten. "You want me to play messenger to a mob boss?" she managed, finally.
"He's not a mob boss. Just a demon with a profitable enterprise. It's a very respectable organization."
Buffy snorted.
"It's true. Kendrun's organization is the contact to have for any real purveyor of mystic arts. I can get the bulk of my inventory from human businesses--the usual crystals, candles, tarot cards, tantric sex guides--but for anything with real power you have to speak to the Kendruns. They even hold tradeshows."
"Tradeshows," Buffy repeated. "For demons."
"For for those interested in the latest magical products--witches, warlocks, independent suppliers. Traditionally, they meet in Vegas." She let out a wistful sigh. "I've never attended myself. But from what I hear they have some wild weekends. All that magic flying around, horny conventioneers... things can get kinda crazy."
"Right." Buffy shook her head, handed the bag back to Anya. "Not my style."
"Oh, the delivery won't be anything like that. Their home office is in Bakersfield. Lower rent and more convenient shipping."
"Right, fine. Look, it's nice of you to offer, but--" she sighed. "Why did you offer this to me anyway? I mean, I wasn't exactly the best Magic Box employee--"
"Oh, that." Anya waved a manicured hand. "Xander said we should be looking for more ways to include you in things. To distract you from thinking about heaven. Plus with your poor financial situation, you could probably use the extra money. So I thought, hey, here's a pathetically simple job that fills both bills." She smiled brightly.
"That's--" Buffy's face froze in an imitation of a smile, and she struggled around an intense urge to grab Anya by the neck and start choking. "--very considerate of you. Only... it's not like I could even get to Bakersfield if I wanted to, because while I was busy pushing up daisies my friends sold my mother's car."
"Oh, you could ask Spike to drive you." Anya offered another sunny expression. "After all, I typically would have offered him this job. But since he loves you and would do anything for you he probably won't even complain about the loss of petty income."
Buffy kept the smile frozen on her face. "No, thanks."
Anya shrugged. "Okay. Well, then can you ask him to do it for me?" She held out the bag.
Buffy made no move to take it. "I'm... kinda busy right now," she faked, then halted, somehow managing to hide her internal wince. Oh, good one, Buffy. Not like you didn't just show up ten minutes ago saying you had nothing to do. She took a breath and regrouped. "I mean, can't you ask him? I wasn't planning on... seeing him anytime soon."
"Oh, he never comes around here anymore. And you see him all the time on patrol. Which you do every night." Anya leaned forward further, waved the Snoopy bag.
"Look, Anya--"
"He's done it for me before, so you won't even have to explain anything. Just give him this and tell him I need him to go to Bakersfield. I'd do it myself but that would involve going to the cemetery, possibly after dark and with dangerous encounters with newly risen vampires, and Xander will be expecting me home ordering takeout pizza." She gave the bag another meaningful wiggle.
Buffy sighed and took it.
Anya beamed. "Thank you! I knew I could count on you. And to show my appreciation, I'll even deduct part of Spike's profits for you to compensate for making this delivery."
"That's... uh, thanks." She turned to go.
"Be sure to let him know the usual bonus system applies!" Anya called as the Magic Box door closed with a jingle.
----------
Bag in hand, Buffy trudged through the cemetery. It's just a job. Some dumb job to go see some dumb demon mob boss in dumb Bakersfield. Nothing to do with me. She kicked at a drift of leaves, eyes squinted against the fading sunlight.
"I do not see him all the time," she grumbled to herself. "Don't know where she gets that idea."
She actually hadn't seen Spike for awhile. It'd been even longer since he'd seen her--well, unless he'd been doing his stalking thing again more stealthily than she was used to. The last time they'd been... together, she'd been invisible. And then he'd gotten all snitty at her and thrown her out.
Which, hello, so not the way to win her over. She'd been avoiding him ever since.
And what had he expected, anyway? He'd been so smug and stupid with his whole brag about "you're gonna crave me"... well, she hadn't exactly come crawling to him on her hands and knees, but she had come to him, right? You'd think that would have been flattering enough for him, made him happy.
Well, she'd been happy. For a couple of hours or so. Being invisible had made her feel so relaxed and giddy and free that they'd had... fun. Good, sweaty--okay, she was the only one who sweated--sexy fun. Not like there was a law against that, especially for the recently risen from the dead--she had a right to a little enjoyment in her life, didn't she? The universe was cruel, but it couldn't be that cruel. Could it?
But no, he had to ruin it. With his big mouth, as usual. Okay, true, if she hadn't left there and gotten Xander's phone message she would have dissolved into a puddle of goo, which would have solved some of her problems, but the original point still stood. He'd been a jerk to her. A big stinky fangy jerk.
Just give him the bag and go, she told herself firmly. Don't hang around. Not like anything good will come of it.
He was inside his crypt when she got there. Of course. Where else would he be during the daylight hours but slouched in his chair in front of the TV, chin on his chest? The whole beer-swilling bachelor thing really wasn't a turn-on for her, not even slightly... although he did get a few extra points for fixing up his place kinda nice. For a tomb, anyway.
She stomped down the entranceway stairs to him, and he looked up at her in amusement. Leaned forward and flicked off the TV to give her his full attention. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling pinned, as always, under his stare.
"To what do I owe your visit this time, Slayer? Sister go missing again?"
"What? No--Dawn's fine." She frowned, really not liking the tone of his voice. She reminded herself she was here on business. Business. That's all.
She squared her shoulders and held out the bag. "This is for you."
His eyes drifted from her face to her outstretched hand. "What's this then?" he chuckled, extending one finger to touch the rough cotton. "Didn't know I rated presents, Slayer."
"You don't." She drew her hand back, irritated. "It's from Anya. She wants you to deliver it to some demon in Bakersfield."
"What, Kenny? That time again, is it?" He took the bag from her, weighed it in his hand. "Little heavier this time. Demon girl must've pulled in some favors in the last few months."
Buffy slid her hands into her coat pockets. "Guess you've done this before then."
"Couple of times. Demon girl needs a go-between from time to time, someone who can chat up the right element. Her being all humanity-impaired and all." He looked at her as if to gauge her reaction; she just stared back.
He shrugged then, and continued. "It's nothing special--just a ride out to the boonies, make nice with some demons, shoot a little pool, ride back." He balanced the bag on his knee, looked at her sideways. "Might as well. Could do with a quick trip out of town, few extra quid to spend. Not like there's much keeping me busy around here."
She sighed. "Don't start." Not my job to keep you entertained, Spike.
"Not starting anything. Just saying there's less than usual to do around here, is all. And how'd you end up playing messenger anyway?"
Buffy shrugged. "Well, to be honest, Anya offered the job to me. But not like I have a car, so--"
"I could take you," he said quickly.
She rolled her eyes.
"Could be a change of scenery's just what you need. A new place, some new demons. Be good for a laugh." He was looking at her seriously now.
"Yeah, right," she scoffed, ignored the way her heart gave a little skip in her chest. "Because it's such a good idea to leave the Hellmouth all footloose and Slayer free."
"Oh, but you'd do it if you had your own car?"
"I didn't say that. Anyway, she gave the job to you, so--"
"So? We'll go together. C'mon, Buffy. You know you want to. You're bored off your nut right now, anyone can see it. Not like anything's keeping you here. Let it go for one night."
"Nothing keeping me here? Other than the Hellmouth? A-and Dawn, and--"
"Your friends can watch her."
She blew out an irritated sigh. Right, my friends. The ones who aren't recovering addicts or obsessed with wedding plans? Yeah, those friends. "Forget it, Spike. Just... forget it. Not gonna happen."
He blew out a sigh to match hers. "Fine then. Suit yourself." He produced a cigarette, positioned it in his mouth. "Guess it'll just be me hitting the open road all on my lonesome for--"
"Don't," she heard herself saying.
Cigarette hanging on his lip, lighter in hand, he looked at her. "Don't what?"
She crinkled her nose. "Don't smoke."
A slow smile formed. "Getting worried about me, luv? Don't know how to break it to you, but I'm not gonna get cancer."
"Of course not! It's just... digusting, that's all." Plus it makes your mouth taste like ashes, not like I'm thinking about having anything else to do with your mouth again, ever, and why am I even thinking this?
Grinning, Spike flicked his lighter closed, plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it aside. "You don't have to do anything, luv. In fact, you've made your little delivery," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "Why are you still here?"
"Don't get any ideas." She shifted her feet, avoided looking at the nicely defined muscles in his arms. Showoff. "I just haven't gotten around to leaving yet. I mean, hello, we've been talking."
"Um-hm. Thought you were all about staying away from me these days."
She blew out a puff of air. "Get over yourself, Spike. I'm not avoiding you. I'm not anything you. It's just that... Anya tried to give the job to me, and--"
Then he was on his feet, walking toward her as she took a startled step back, and he had that look on his face. The one that went right to her stomach.
"Went over that already," he murmured. "And yet you're still here."
Buffy dropped her eyes. He was closer now, his T-shirt-clad chest filling her field of vision. They'd be touching if she moved even just the tiniest bit. Her hands twitched.
"You sure there's nothing else that you... want?" he said, his voice silky. A trickle of heat ran through her, even as a part of her cringed. She tried to hold onto that part.
"Not a thing," she said, feeling pleased with the calmness of her voice.
"Yeah?" he whispered. And then he leaned in to kiss her.
Buffy didn't move. Their bodies were less than a hand's width apart, but she stayed still, kept her arms at her sides. He wasn't touching her yet, but she knew exactly what it would feel like when he did. What his mouth would feel like on hers, hungry and open.
She closed her eyes.
And he stepped away from her.
Buffy blinked in surprise. Suddenly, Spike was all the way across the room. It was like something out of one of those time-lapse documentaries, or that distorto clock-spinny-thingy that had happened to her on campus.
She watched him moving around the crypt, her mouth hanging open in surprise. Only a heartbeat ago, he'd been standing right next to her, his lips hovering over hers. Now he was stuffing things into a scuffed backpack. A mason jar of blood from his fridge. Some random weapons. A paperback book. Ignoring her as if she wasn't even there. It left a confused feeling in her gut that did not in any way resemble panic.
"How long will you be gone?" she heard herself ask in a tiny voice. God, I sound pathetic.
"Day or two maybe." He shrugged. "Won't really know until I get there, check out the lay of the land."
"Fine," she grated. "Have a nice trip."
He heaved the backpack to his shoulder and paused again. "We can get there and back in one night, you know. Have a little adventure. Be home before daybreak. No harm done." His eyes searched hers.
She opened her mouth to once again tell him no, but before she could speak... she began to think about it.
A night not here. She bit her lip, considered. It was business after all, she reasoned. Just business. Slayer business. With demons, and... well, it wasn't real responsible of her to just send Spike out of town on some errand without checking things out, was it? Her heart beat a tattoo, nervous and somehow giddy.
Why not?
She lifted her chin. "You're sure we can get there and back in one night?"
"Cross my heart."
"And hope to die?" she guffawed. "Nice try, Spike."
"Didn't say that, did I?" A real smile now, one that lit up his whole face. "Need to check in at home? I can come by in a few minutes, pick you up." He pulled on his coat.
"Yeah, I--" She hesitated, suddenly unsure what she'd just agreed to.
He nodded. "Right then. See you in a few."
Dazed, Buffy turned then and walked out the crypt. And wondered if coming back from the dead had driven her insane.
exchanged's Spuffyficathon. It's possibly the silliest thing I've ever done, a sort of combination of a road trip fic and bedroom farce, with Buffy and Spike traveling to Bakersfield to visit a demon for Anya. For:
foggiAssignment: Optional Dawn or Anya, Funny Dialogue/Banter, Have them go somewhere non-Sunnydale-ish, A Spuffy Kiss at least; No Character Bashing, Not overly fluffy, don't use the other charcter besides Spike and Buffy if there's not a way to make it make sense, ya know? ;)
And here's what I did: This is set during Season 6, between "Gone" and "Doublemeat Palace," because that strikes me as the golden moment for comedy-plus-sexual-tension in the Spuffy relationship... well, in S6 anyway, don't ask me why. In another sense, this is me trying to explore Buffy's tendency toward no-yes-no. Buffy POV.
Dirty Back Road, Part One
----------
"So, are you interested?"
Buffy just blinked. Anya was smiling cheerily, expectant look on her face, as if she'd made a terrific announcement and was just waiting for congratulations.
They were in the Magic Box. Of course, because where else would she be if she wasn't at home? She'd come to the store with half an idea about talking to Xander, no real thought about what she wanted to say... but then had remembered that duh, it was daytime, and like normal people he had a job. So here she was, talking to Anya. Who was offering her some kind of job.
Buffy sighed. "You want me to go talk to this Ken demon thingy?"
"Kendrun demon. He's one of my Magic Box suppliers. Or more specifically, he's the boss of a consortium of magical product purveyors. You know, rare items--sorcerers' stones, eyes of Agamotto, mummy hands--high end stuff."
"Uh-huh. And you need me to deliver--"
"This." Anya whipped out an object from behind the counter, plopped it into her hand. It was a red cotton lunch bag, decorated with dancing Snoopys. Surprisingly heavy.
"It's my quarterly tribute from the Magic Box."
"Tribute," Buffy echoed.
"Kendrun demons are very hierarchical. All business associations have to be very carefully prioritized based on personal associations and financial gain. Like the Sopranos."
Buffy took a breath, held it. Counted to ten. "You want me to play messenger to a mob boss?" she managed, finally.
"He's not a mob boss. Just a demon with a profitable enterprise. It's a very respectable organization."
Buffy snorted.
"It's true. Kendrun's organization is the contact to have for any real purveyor of mystic arts. I can get the bulk of my inventory from human businesses--the usual crystals, candles, tarot cards, tantric sex guides--but for anything with real power you have to speak to the Kendruns. They even hold tradeshows."
"Tradeshows," Buffy repeated. "For demons."
"For for those interested in the latest magical products--witches, warlocks, independent suppliers. Traditionally, they meet in Vegas." She let out a wistful sigh. "I've never attended myself. But from what I hear they have some wild weekends. All that magic flying around, horny conventioneers... things can get kinda crazy."
"Right." Buffy shook her head, handed the bag back to Anya. "Not my style."
"Oh, the delivery won't be anything like that. Their home office is in Bakersfield. Lower rent and more convenient shipping."
"Right, fine. Look, it's nice of you to offer, but--" she sighed. "Why did you offer this to me anyway? I mean, I wasn't exactly the best Magic Box employee--"
"Oh, that." Anya waved a manicured hand. "Xander said we should be looking for more ways to include you in things. To distract you from thinking about heaven. Plus with your poor financial situation, you could probably use the extra money. So I thought, hey, here's a pathetically simple job that fills both bills." She smiled brightly.
"That's--" Buffy's face froze in an imitation of a smile, and she struggled around an intense urge to grab Anya by the neck and start choking. "--very considerate of you. Only... it's not like I could even get to Bakersfield if I wanted to, because while I was busy pushing up daisies my friends sold my mother's car."
"Oh, you could ask Spike to drive you." Anya offered another sunny expression. "After all, I typically would have offered him this job. But since he loves you and would do anything for you he probably won't even complain about the loss of petty income."
Buffy kept the smile frozen on her face. "No, thanks."
Anya shrugged. "Okay. Well, then can you ask him to do it for me?" She held out the bag.
Buffy made no move to take it. "I'm... kinda busy right now," she faked, then halted, somehow managing to hide her internal wince. Oh, good one, Buffy. Not like you didn't just show up ten minutes ago saying you had nothing to do. She took a breath and regrouped. "I mean, can't you ask him? I wasn't planning on... seeing him anytime soon."
"Oh, he never comes around here anymore. And you see him all the time on patrol. Which you do every night." Anya leaned forward further, waved the Snoopy bag.
"Look, Anya--"
"He's done it for me before, so you won't even have to explain anything. Just give him this and tell him I need him to go to Bakersfield. I'd do it myself but that would involve going to the cemetery, possibly after dark and with dangerous encounters with newly risen vampires, and Xander will be expecting me home ordering takeout pizza." She gave the bag another meaningful wiggle.
Buffy sighed and took it.
Anya beamed. "Thank you! I knew I could count on you. And to show my appreciation, I'll even deduct part of Spike's profits for you to compensate for making this delivery."
"That's... uh, thanks." She turned to go.
"Be sure to let him know the usual bonus system applies!" Anya called as the Magic Box door closed with a jingle.
----------
Bag in hand, Buffy trudged through the cemetery. It's just a job. Some dumb job to go see some dumb demon mob boss in dumb Bakersfield. Nothing to do with me. She kicked at a drift of leaves, eyes squinted against the fading sunlight.
"I do not see him all the time," she grumbled to herself. "Don't know where she gets that idea."
She actually hadn't seen Spike for awhile. It'd been even longer since he'd seen her--well, unless he'd been doing his stalking thing again more stealthily than she was used to. The last time they'd been... together, she'd been invisible. And then he'd gotten all snitty at her and thrown her out.
Which, hello, so not the way to win her over. She'd been avoiding him ever since.
And what had he expected, anyway? He'd been so smug and stupid with his whole brag about "you're gonna crave me"... well, she hadn't exactly come crawling to him on her hands and knees, but she had come to him, right? You'd think that would have been flattering enough for him, made him happy.
Well, she'd been happy. For a couple of hours or so. Being invisible had made her feel so relaxed and giddy and free that they'd had... fun. Good, sweaty--okay, she was the only one who sweated--sexy fun. Not like there was a law against that, especially for the recently risen from the dead--she had a right to a little enjoyment in her life, didn't she? The universe was cruel, but it couldn't be that cruel. Could it?
But no, he had to ruin it. With his big mouth, as usual. Okay, true, if she hadn't left there and gotten Xander's phone message she would have dissolved into a puddle of goo, which would have solved some of her problems, but the original point still stood. He'd been a jerk to her. A big stinky fangy jerk.
Just give him the bag and go, she told herself firmly. Don't hang around. Not like anything good will come of it.
He was inside his crypt when she got there. Of course. Where else would he be during the daylight hours but slouched in his chair in front of the TV, chin on his chest? The whole beer-swilling bachelor thing really wasn't a turn-on for her, not even slightly... although he did get a few extra points for fixing up his place kinda nice. For a tomb, anyway.
She stomped down the entranceway stairs to him, and he looked up at her in amusement. Leaned forward and flicked off the TV to give her his full attention. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling pinned, as always, under his stare.
"To what do I owe your visit this time, Slayer? Sister go missing again?"
"What? No--Dawn's fine." She frowned, really not liking the tone of his voice. She reminded herself she was here on business. Business. That's all.
She squared her shoulders and held out the bag. "This is for you."
His eyes drifted from her face to her outstretched hand. "What's this then?" he chuckled, extending one finger to touch the rough cotton. "Didn't know I rated presents, Slayer."
"You don't." She drew her hand back, irritated. "It's from Anya. She wants you to deliver it to some demon in Bakersfield."
"What, Kenny? That time again, is it?" He took the bag from her, weighed it in his hand. "Little heavier this time. Demon girl must've pulled in some favors in the last few months."
Buffy slid her hands into her coat pockets. "Guess you've done this before then."
"Couple of times. Demon girl needs a go-between from time to time, someone who can chat up the right element. Her being all humanity-impaired and all." He looked at her as if to gauge her reaction; she just stared back.
He shrugged then, and continued. "It's nothing special--just a ride out to the boonies, make nice with some demons, shoot a little pool, ride back." He balanced the bag on his knee, looked at her sideways. "Might as well. Could do with a quick trip out of town, few extra quid to spend. Not like there's much keeping me busy around here."
She sighed. "Don't start." Not my job to keep you entertained, Spike.
"Not starting anything. Just saying there's less than usual to do around here, is all. And how'd you end up playing messenger anyway?"
Buffy shrugged. "Well, to be honest, Anya offered the job to me. But not like I have a car, so--"
"I could take you," he said quickly.
She rolled her eyes.
"Could be a change of scenery's just what you need. A new place, some new demons. Be good for a laugh." He was looking at her seriously now.
"Yeah, right," she scoffed, ignored the way her heart gave a little skip in her chest. "Because it's such a good idea to leave the Hellmouth all footloose and Slayer free."
"Oh, but you'd do it if you had your own car?"
"I didn't say that. Anyway, she gave the job to you, so--"
"So? We'll go together. C'mon, Buffy. You know you want to. You're bored off your nut right now, anyone can see it. Not like anything's keeping you here. Let it go for one night."
"Nothing keeping me here? Other than the Hellmouth? A-and Dawn, and--"
"Your friends can watch her."
She blew out an irritated sigh. Right, my friends. The ones who aren't recovering addicts or obsessed with wedding plans? Yeah, those friends. "Forget it, Spike. Just... forget it. Not gonna happen."
He blew out a sigh to match hers. "Fine then. Suit yourself." He produced a cigarette, positioned it in his mouth. "Guess it'll just be me hitting the open road all on my lonesome for--"
"Don't," she heard herself saying.
Cigarette hanging on his lip, lighter in hand, he looked at her. "Don't what?"
She crinkled her nose. "Don't smoke."
A slow smile formed. "Getting worried about me, luv? Don't know how to break it to you, but I'm not gonna get cancer."
"Of course not! It's just... digusting, that's all." Plus it makes your mouth taste like ashes, not like I'm thinking about having anything else to do with your mouth again, ever, and why am I even thinking this?
Grinning, Spike flicked his lighter closed, plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it aside. "You don't have to do anything, luv. In fact, you've made your little delivery," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "Why are you still here?"
"Don't get any ideas." She shifted her feet, avoided looking at the nicely defined muscles in his arms. Showoff. "I just haven't gotten around to leaving yet. I mean, hello, we've been talking."
"Um-hm. Thought you were all about staying away from me these days."
She blew out a puff of air. "Get over yourself, Spike. I'm not avoiding you. I'm not anything you. It's just that... Anya tried to give the job to me, and--"
Then he was on his feet, walking toward her as she took a startled step back, and he had that look on his face. The one that went right to her stomach.
"Went over that already," he murmured. "And yet you're still here."
Buffy dropped her eyes. He was closer now, his T-shirt-clad chest filling her field of vision. They'd be touching if she moved even just the tiniest bit. Her hands twitched.
"You sure there's nothing else that you... want?" he said, his voice silky. A trickle of heat ran through her, even as a part of her cringed. She tried to hold onto that part.
"Not a thing," she said, feeling pleased with the calmness of her voice.
"Yeah?" he whispered. And then he leaned in to kiss her.
Buffy didn't move. Their bodies were less than a hand's width apart, but she stayed still, kept her arms at her sides. He wasn't touching her yet, but she knew exactly what it would feel like when he did. What his mouth would feel like on hers, hungry and open.
She closed her eyes.
And he stepped away from her.
Buffy blinked in surprise. Suddenly, Spike was all the way across the room. It was like something out of one of those time-lapse documentaries, or that distorto clock-spinny-thingy that had happened to her on campus.
She watched him moving around the crypt, her mouth hanging open in surprise. Only a heartbeat ago, he'd been standing right next to her, his lips hovering over hers. Now he was stuffing things into a scuffed backpack. A mason jar of blood from his fridge. Some random weapons. A paperback book. Ignoring her as if she wasn't even there. It left a confused feeling in her gut that did not in any way resemble panic.
"How long will you be gone?" she heard herself ask in a tiny voice. God, I sound pathetic.
"Day or two maybe." He shrugged. "Won't really know until I get there, check out the lay of the land."
"Fine," she grated. "Have a nice trip."
He heaved the backpack to his shoulder and paused again. "We can get there and back in one night, you know. Have a little adventure. Be home before daybreak. No harm done." His eyes searched hers.
She opened her mouth to once again tell him no, but before she could speak... she began to think about it.
A night not here. She bit her lip, considered. It was business after all, she reasoned. Just business. Slayer business. With demons, and... well, it wasn't real responsible of her to just send Spike out of town on some errand without checking things out, was it? Her heart beat a tattoo, nervous and somehow giddy.
Why not?
She lifted her chin. "You're sure we can get there and back in one night?"
"Cross my heart."
"And hope to die?" she guffawed. "Nice try, Spike."
"Didn't say that, did I?" A real smile now, one that lit up his whole face. "Need to check in at home? I can come by in a few minutes, pick you up." He pulled on his coat.
"Yeah, I--" She hesitated, suddenly unsure what she'd just agreed to.
He nodded. "Right then. See you in a few."
Dazed, Buffy turned then and walked out the crypt. And wondered if coming back from the dead had driven her insane.
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Date: 2004-09-01 05:48 pm (UTC)Good stuff!
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Date: 2004-09-02 03:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-01 06:02 pm (UTC):: makes popcorn ::
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Date: 2004-09-02 03:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-01 06:31 pm (UTC)I like the setup here, especially the juxtaposition with "Gone" and its invisibility hijinks. Here, the road trip functions as another kind of invisibility; like they say in those Vegas ads, What Happens In Bakersfield Stays In Bakersfield.
Favorite lines...
Kendrun demons are very hierarchical. All business associations have to be very carefully prioritized based on personal associations and financial gain.
It occurs to me that Anya would be the perfect person to explain the workings of the modern world to Illyria. Now there's a fun pairing...
Xander said we should be looking for more ways to include you in things. To distract you from thinking about heaven.
Did I ever mention that you write a really great Anya? The "pathetically simple job" and "since he loves you and would do anything for you" lines are also a lot of fun.
...because while I was busy pushing up daisies my friends sold my mother's car.
Whiner. :-)
...but the original point still stood. He'd been a jerk to her. A big stinky fangy jerk.
Heh! Perhaps, like Angel, Buffy is most fun when she's being petty.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-02 03:28 am (UTC)Here, the road trip functions as another kind of invisibility; like they say in those Vegas ads, What Happens In Bakersfield Stays In Bakersfield.
Hee! Hadn't quite thought of it that way myself, but I think unconsciously I'd planned the story on that track, so, uh... like you said. Leaving Sunnydale equals freedom... of a sort.
Did I ever mention that you write a really great Anya?
Aw. I blush.
Heh! Perhaps, like Angel, Buffy is most fun when she's being petty.
Most fun to write, anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-02 03:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-25 06:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-01 09:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-09-02 03:29 am (UTC)Flatterer. ; )
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Date: 2014-08-21 04:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-08-26 04:40 pm (UTC)