Improvising Atonement, 5/?
Dec. 11th, 2007 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: None (Spike, Buffy, Giles)
Rating: R
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Beta'd bynoandwhere, based on the BtVS S1 episode "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date". Also written for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tamingthemuse prompt 73-rope
The little glint in the moonlight pulled Spike reluctantly from his hiding place. He’d been shadowing the slimy little git for hours now, waiting for him to bring forth The Anointed. Hours spent researching, skulking, and pounding the bloody unlife out of more than a few minions reduced to “I’m Buffy and you’re history”. Christ, he’d be driven to drink if he wasn’t already spending his mornings pissed to the gills. Xander had shaken him, more than he’d care to admit.
The sight of the ring, his Order’s ring, in the Watcher’s hands shook him more. That was no minion they dusted, no poncy bit of undead fluff. Only direct descendents of The Master were given those symbols of authority, and Spike unconsciously flexed his fingers. He hadn’t seen his ring in almost a hundred years, but he could still feel its weight.
“Slayer,” he said in an even tone, “if I’d known you were going to stake him, I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of tracking him down.”
Buffy whirled, moving to put herself between the Watcher and whatever danger they might be in. Spike smiled approvingly, lifting his empty hands in the air. The girl was as coarse as unspun wool, but she knew her priorities.
“You, ah, you knew this vampire,” The Watcher said flatly, subtly trying to get past the Slayer. Oh and wasn’t that the interesting tidbit? Watcher cares for his Slayer beyond her killing abilities. That or he forgot Slayers don’t need any cloaks spread out for them, puddles bedamned.
“We weren’t getting ready to share a cuppa,” Spike said, staring hard at the raised stake. “He belongs to The Master. “
“The Master,” The Watcher repeated, body tensing. “Good Lord! I’ve been consulting my books, all the relevant prophecies and I’ve seen noth…no. That’s not true. There was one in The Chronicles…”
“And there will be a time of crisis, of worlds hanging in the balance,” Spike interjected softly. “And in this time shall come the Anointed, the Master’s great warrior. Ring a bell, Watcher?”
“Yes,” the older man nodded. “But, this symbol…I don’t recognize it.”
“Oh bloody hell,” Spike muttered. “How do any of you manage to stay alive? You think The Master’s a regular piece of trash, another prowling bloodsucker? He didn’t get his title by popular vote. “
“Will.” Buffy finally spoke, lowering her stake. “If you know who this Master guy is, making with the sharing time. Anointed sounds awfully official and slightly menacing. Anything official and menacing should be on the share list.”
“Will?” The Watcher repeated. “I don’t see Willow any…ah. Yes. How very foolish of me. Will, short for William, I presume? I’m Rupert Giles.”
“Yeah.” Spike nod once by way of greeting. “Look, The Chronicles aren’t going to cut it. You need…” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “You need something much older.”
“Again with the cryptic,” Buffy muttered. “Was that, like, your chosen major or something?”
“Nah,” Spike grinned. “I considered it, but opted for irritating instead. Classes started later.”
Buffy’s lips quirked upwards, as if she was trying to contain a laugh. Spike felt the tightness in his muscles loosen, tension draining from his body. He walked a tightrope each time he ventured near the slayer and he fully expected that rope to snap at any moment. The last Slayer hadn’t cared a bit that he had a soul, or that he wanted to help. She’d attacked and he had no choice, but it still grieved him to take her life. He felt compelled to help, and he still wasn’t entirely sure if that was the curse or his own soul.
“So, where’s the kiddies?” Spike asked, trying to sound casual. “Don’t see your usuals running around the cemetery looking for mischief.”
“No,” Buffy said. “I don’t…they shouldn’t be out here in this. I mean, they help and I’m glad. Makes it easier when I’m not so alone in this whole slay biz, but…this is my fight.”
Spike looked at her sympathetically. She was tired already and she had so much fight ahead of her. He understood how living two lives could wear you down, make the fight that much harder.
“Probably for the best,” he admitted. “Still, don’t see those two just letting you off to do your thing while they sit at home, snug in their beds.”
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “That’s what I’m afraid of. If they die because of me…”
Spike wished he could console her. Nothing and no one could lighten the Slayer’s burden, not even friends. If anything, those two would weigh on her, their lives lost in a fight they weren’t equipped to handle.
Rupert stood there quietly, but he was following their conversation. Spike shifted uncomfortably, worried The Watcher would catch him out. A hen with one chick, Rupert wouldn’t be likely to miss any small details.
“Could come by,” he offered to The Watcher. “Have a few books of my own, might kick up something that could help.”
“Yes,” Giles said softly. “Why don’t you drop by the school library tomorrow? I’m sure your volumes would be…interesting.”
Spike shivered imperceptibly. There were overtones in those pleasant words, shades of darkness that promised…what? He wasn’t sure, but this was one Watcher who had done more than watch, if his implicit promise was anything to go by. He left them, uneasiness settling over him. This could all go very badly, very soon.
Chapter 6
Rating: R
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Beta'd by
noandwhere, based on the BtVS S1 episode "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date". Also written for tamingthemuse prompt 73-ropeThe little glint in the moonlight pulled Spike reluctantly from his hiding place. He’d been shadowing the slimy little git for hours now, waiting for him to bring forth The Anointed. Hours spent researching, skulking, and pounding the bloody unlife out of more than a few minions reduced to “I’m Buffy and you’re history”. Christ, he’d be driven to drink if he wasn’t already spending his mornings pissed to the gills. Xander had shaken him, more than he’d care to admit.
The sight of the ring, his Order’s ring, in the Watcher’s hands shook him more. That was no minion they dusted, no poncy bit of undead fluff. Only direct descendents of The Master were given those symbols of authority, and Spike unconsciously flexed his fingers. He hadn’t seen his ring in almost a hundred years, but he could still feel its weight.
“Slayer,” he said in an even tone, “if I’d known you were going to stake him, I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of tracking him down.”
Buffy whirled, moving to put herself between the Watcher and whatever danger they might be in. Spike smiled approvingly, lifting his empty hands in the air. The girl was as coarse as unspun wool, but she knew her priorities.
“You, ah, you knew this vampire,” The Watcher said flatly, subtly trying to get past the Slayer. Oh and wasn’t that the interesting tidbit? Watcher cares for his Slayer beyond her killing abilities. That or he forgot Slayers don’t need any cloaks spread out for them, puddles bedamned.
“We weren’t getting ready to share a cuppa,” Spike said, staring hard at the raised stake. “He belongs to The Master. “
“The Master,” The Watcher repeated, body tensing. “Good Lord! I’ve been consulting my books, all the relevant prophecies and I’ve seen noth…no. That’s not true. There was one in The Chronicles…”
“And there will be a time of crisis, of worlds hanging in the balance,” Spike interjected softly. “And in this time shall come the Anointed, the Master’s great warrior. Ring a bell, Watcher?”
“Yes,” the older man nodded. “But, this symbol…I don’t recognize it.”
“Oh bloody hell,” Spike muttered. “How do any of you manage to stay alive? You think The Master’s a regular piece of trash, another prowling bloodsucker? He didn’t get his title by popular vote. “
“Will.” Buffy finally spoke, lowering her stake. “If you know who this Master guy is, making with the sharing time. Anointed sounds awfully official and slightly menacing. Anything official and menacing should be on the share list.”
“Will?” The Watcher repeated. “I don’t see Willow any…ah. Yes. How very foolish of me. Will, short for William, I presume? I’m Rupert Giles.”
“Yeah.” Spike nod once by way of greeting. “Look, The Chronicles aren’t going to cut it. You need…” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “You need something much older.”
“Again with the cryptic,” Buffy muttered. “Was that, like, your chosen major or something?”
“Nah,” Spike grinned. “I considered it, but opted for irritating instead. Classes started later.”
Buffy’s lips quirked upwards, as if she was trying to contain a laugh. Spike felt the tightness in his muscles loosen, tension draining from his body. He walked a tightrope each time he ventured near the slayer and he fully expected that rope to snap at any moment. The last Slayer hadn’t cared a bit that he had a soul, or that he wanted to help. She’d attacked and he had no choice, but it still grieved him to take her life. He felt compelled to help, and he still wasn’t entirely sure if that was the curse or his own soul.
“So, where’s the kiddies?” Spike asked, trying to sound casual. “Don’t see your usuals running around the cemetery looking for mischief.”
“No,” Buffy said. “I don’t…they shouldn’t be out here in this. I mean, they help and I’m glad. Makes it easier when I’m not so alone in this whole slay biz, but…this is my fight.”
Spike looked at her sympathetically. She was tired already and she had so much fight ahead of her. He understood how living two lives could wear you down, make the fight that much harder.
“Probably for the best,” he admitted. “Still, don’t see those two just letting you off to do your thing while they sit at home, snug in their beds.”
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “That’s what I’m afraid of. If they die because of me…”
Spike wished he could console her. Nothing and no one could lighten the Slayer’s burden, not even friends. If anything, those two would weigh on her, their lives lost in a fight they weren’t equipped to handle.
Rupert stood there quietly, but he was following their conversation. Spike shifted uncomfortably, worried The Watcher would catch him out. A hen with one chick, Rupert wouldn’t be likely to miss any small details.
“Could come by,” he offered to The Watcher. “Have a few books of my own, might kick up something that could help.”
“Yes,” Giles said softly. “Why don’t you drop by the school library tomorrow? I’m sure your volumes would be…interesting.”
Spike shivered imperceptibly. There were overtones in those pleasant words, shades of darkness that promised…what? He wasn’t sure, but this was one Watcher who had done more than watch, if his implicit promise was anything to go by. He left them, uneasiness settling over him. This could all go very badly, very soon.
Chapter 6