Spike/Buffy ficlet
My last summer_of_spike repost. This one is Season 7, Spike and Buffy.
Title: Breakfast of Champions
Author: Cindy (cindergal)
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm, no foul
Setting: Season 7, the morning after Lies My Parents Told Me
Summary: Just a typical morning in the Summers House
Breakfast of Champions
Spike made his way up the basement steps, thinking that they creaked almost as loud as his bones. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, and had finally given up once the morning stampede had begun. He’d waited till it was all quiet before venturing into the kitchen; he wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, but he was starving.
As he opened the door, Dawn looked up and said “Hey,” before continuing to pour cereal into her bowl. Or trying to. “Those potentials, they’re like locusts!” she said, as a few crumbs fell into her bowl.
“I think there’s some more in the cupboard,” Buffy said. When he glanced her way, she was looking at him, smiling tentatively.
“Only the healthy kind,” Dawn grumbled.
“Mornin’ all,” Spike said. “How’s the noggin, Bit?” He went closer to get a better look, and she turned her head so he could see. “Damn. Could’ve really hurt you.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Besides, you look worse than me.” She pointed to his cheek. When he put his hand there, it was still tender.
“Oh, that. I ... well ...” he looked over at Buffy for help.
“She told me,” Dawn said. “Principal Wood tried to take revenge on you because you killed his mother. And Giles was all for it or something.”
Buffy turned the page of her newspaper. “Well, yeah. Basically,” Spike said, dragging his eyes back to Dawn.
“Oh, I’m sure I got the ‘edited for Dawn’s tender ears’ version. But you’re all triggerless now, so that’s good, right? Except for the attempted dusting part.”
As she was speaking, Xander walked in and pulled a container of orange juice out of the fridge. “My, we have interesting breakfast conversation in this house, and who put an empty carton back in the fridge?” He shook the empty box and threw it on the counter in disgust.
Buffy took a sip of her coffee and continued to be immersed in the classifieds.
“Don’t look at me, mate,” Spike said.
“Yeah, well, you’re the lucky one in the food department. No one wants to steal your blood.” He took his keys out of his pocket. “I’m going on a food run. Need anything, Dawnster?”
“Cereal?”
“Cereal it is. And Weetabix, right?” He asked, looking Spike’s way.
“What? Oh, yeah. That would be ... good.” He must be in bizarro world. Maybe it was a spell.
“Buff? Anything?” Xander asked.
She looked up and smiled. “No, I’m good.”
“Wait, I’ll come with you. Nobody ever gets the kind I like.” Dawn ran out after Xander, the back door slamming behind her.
Spike and Buffy stared at each other in the suddenly quiet kitchen.
“See,” Buffy said brightly, “not everyone wants you dead.”
Spike laughed. “Not today, at least. They’ve both had their moments.”
“They got over it. Things have changed. You’ve changed, they’ve changed, I’ve changed, we’ve all ...”
Spike held up his hand. “Stop right there. Please. Before you break out the bloody pom poms and start doing cartwheels and saying rah, rah, rah. Although, having just received the visual ....”
Buffy laughed and stared down into her coffee cup. Her hair was pulled back, and he could see the tips of her ears getting red.
He hid his own smile inside the refrigerator as he grabbed some blood and tossed it into the microwave. “You all right?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from her.
She leaned her chin on her hand and smiled gently at him. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to ask you that question?”
“Heard you and the watcher last night,” he said. “I know that’s gotta be hard on you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Buffy ...”
“Spike.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “You have always had my back. Even before I realized you did. I want you to know that I’ve got yours.”
He stared into her eyes, which were shiny and full of emotion. Felt her hand squeezing his own. And wished the moment could go on forever.
Then the microwave dinged.
Title: Breakfast of Champions
Author: Cindy (cindergal)
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm, no foul
Setting: Season 7, the morning after Lies My Parents Told Me
Summary: Just a typical morning in the Summers House
Breakfast of Champions
Spike made his way up the basement steps, thinking that they creaked almost as loud as his bones. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, and had finally given up once the morning stampede had begun. He’d waited till it was all quiet before venturing into the kitchen; he wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, but he was starving.
As he opened the door, Dawn looked up and said “Hey,” before continuing to pour cereal into her bowl. Or trying to. “Those potentials, they’re like locusts!” she said, as a few crumbs fell into her bowl.
“I think there’s some more in the cupboard,” Buffy said. When he glanced her way, she was looking at him, smiling tentatively.
“Only the healthy kind,” Dawn grumbled.
“Mornin’ all,” Spike said. “How’s the noggin, Bit?” He went closer to get a better look, and she turned her head so he could see. “Damn. Could’ve really hurt you.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Besides, you look worse than me.” She pointed to his cheek. When he put his hand there, it was still tender.
“Oh, that. I ... well ...” he looked over at Buffy for help.
“She told me,” Dawn said. “Principal Wood tried to take revenge on you because you killed his mother. And Giles was all for it or something.”
Buffy turned the page of her newspaper. “Well, yeah. Basically,” Spike said, dragging his eyes back to Dawn.
“Oh, I’m sure I got the ‘edited for Dawn’s tender ears’ version. But you’re all triggerless now, so that’s good, right? Except for the attempted dusting part.”
As she was speaking, Xander walked in and pulled a container of orange juice out of the fridge. “My, we have interesting breakfast conversation in this house, and who put an empty carton back in the fridge?” He shook the empty box and threw it on the counter in disgust.
Buffy took a sip of her coffee and continued to be immersed in the classifieds.
“Don’t look at me, mate,” Spike said.
“Yeah, well, you’re the lucky one in the food department. No one wants to steal your blood.” He took his keys out of his pocket. “I’m going on a food run. Need anything, Dawnster?”
“Cereal?”
“Cereal it is. And Weetabix, right?” He asked, looking Spike’s way.
“What? Oh, yeah. That would be ... good.” He must be in bizarro world. Maybe it was a spell.
“Buff? Anything?” Xander asked.
She looked up and smiled. “No, I’m good.”
“Wait, I’ll come with you. Nobody ever gets the kind I like.” Dawn ran out after Xander, the back door slamming behind her.
Spike and Buffy stared at each other in the suddenly quiet kitchen.
“See,” Buffy said brightly, “not everyone wants you dead.”
Spike laughed. “Not today, at least. They’ve both had their moments.”
“They got over it. Things have changed. You’ve changed, they’ve changed, I’ve changed, we’ve all ...”
Spike held up his hand. “Stop right there. Please. Before you break out the bloody pom poms and start doing cartwheels and saying rah, rah, rah. Although, having just received the visual ....”
Buffy laughed and stared down into her coffee cup. Her hair was pulled back, and he could see the tips of her ears getting red.
He hid his own smile inside the refrigerator as he grabbed some blood and tossed it into the microwave. “You all right?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from her.
She leaned her chin on her hand and smiled gently at him. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to ask you that question?”
“Heard you and the watcher last night,” he said. “I know that’s gotta be hard on you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Buffy ...”
“Spike.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “You have always had my back. Even before I realized you did. I want you to know that I’ve got yours.”
He stared into her eyes, which were shiny and full of emotion. Felt her hand squeezing his own. And wished the moment could go on forever.
Then the microwave dinged.