The Artifact: Chapter Fourteen
*wew* This holiday-celebrating business is more work than I recalled.
Anyway, have another installment for your Boxing Day!
It's heartwarming and adorable and Spike & Dawn fun!
Only heartbreaking and sad.
<-- Previous Chapter
Chapter One Here
Chapter Fourteen: Forever
Spike heard scrabbling in the cemetery so he put down the car stereo he was carrying home and approached cautiously, expecting a fresh fledgeling to take down.
The sound was coming from near Joyce’s grave, which gave him a sudden, unexpected bolt of hope.
A hope dashed as he got closer and smelled human sweat and fruity shampoo. It was Dawn, on her knees, digging at the fresh sod they’d put over Joyce’s grave.
Perhaps not entirely dashed.
“I hope it’s just dirt your after,” Spike said. “Anything more and you’re getting into zombie territory.”
“I’m not! I… I mean…” the girl looked adorable, all caught out with black magic like it was a diary or a photo of a teen heartthrob. “Don’t tell Buffy.”
“I won’t tell on you. I’m going to help you.”
She got a canny look in her eyes. “Why? This isn’t just because you have a crush on Buffy, is it?”
“Are you joking? Tell Buffy any of this and she’ll drive a redwood through me. Just… don’t like Summer’s women taking it on the chin so hard.” He held out a hand. She reluctantly let him help her to her feet. “So, let’s take a look at that spell you’ve got. Hrm. Grave dirt, check. An image of the deceased -- I’m sure you can swing that. These herbs we can get at the magic shop. Hrm… this bit I’m not sure of, but I know a guy.”
“You’re really going to help me?” Dawn followed him out of the graveyard.
“Said I would. Let’s hit the magic shop first.”
“Don’t take as long picking the lock this time.” She sat down next to the magic shop door and looked up attentively like a kiddie at story time. Spike suspected she was trying to learn his tricks. He moved so his shoulder hid the view. She sighed. “Where you really in a hell dimension for ten years?”
Spike pushed the door open and gestured forward triumphantly. “Just like old times for us, eh, Niblet?”
“Not that old for me. Ten years ago, for you. In a HELL dimension.”
“It wasn’t a hell dimension, per se. Anyway, stop saying that. Suspect Buffy’ll blame me if you’re cussing.”
“But if ten years have passed for you, have you known me for longer than I’ve been alive?”
Spike smiled quietly to himself as he browsed the shelf of herbs. He found what they needed and pocketed it. “It is pretty cool, isn’t it? Like time travel. Since you last saw me, I’ve gained the mysterious and mystical wisdom of a decade.”
“Anya said that you came out of there BUCK NAKED.”
He grimaced. “It was, uh… a clothing optional dimension. And hot. Kinda hot there.”
“Please. Buffy and her friends were trying really hard not to talk about it around me, but I know it was some kind of sex thing.”
Spike must have looked comically aghast, because the girl covered her smile with both hands and looked like she was going to fall over. “Wash your mind out with soap,” he said, and tossed her a bar of “Healing Energies: Chamomile Rose”.
She pocketed the soap pretty deftly. “I’m fourteen. I’m not a baby.”
“Didn’t say you were. Wouldn’t help a baby raise the dead. Now come on, let’s see if that bloke I know is home.”
She re-locked the door and closed it behind them. “You promise you’re not helping me just because of Buffy?”
“Will you let it rest? Fact is, when you aren’t being annoying, you are the more fun of the Summers girls.”
Dawn preened at that.
***
“Mommy?” Buffy stared out on the empty porch, the empty lawn. She collapsed, crying hard, as she hadn’t let herself do, not in front of anyone. Especially not in front of Dawn, but she was crying, and they were both crying and it felt… good. Like letting a wound breathe.
When she calmed down, she wondered why Spike was standing across the street, watching the house.
He was still there when she peeked through the bathroom window after brushing her teeth, so she climbed down the outside of the house.
There was a silly habit.
“All right?” He asked, stepping out of the shadows as she stepped off the rose trellis.
Buffy dusted off her hands on her pajamas. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to intrude, what with the… with the everything. But I was worried about you. And the Niblet.” He took out a cigarette, held it, but didn’t light it. “So… you all right?” He tilted his head.
It was so… normal. He was dressed the same as always, talking the same as always, like a gulf of death and years didn’t separate last week from this. “How do you do it? Spike, how are you still... still you? How do you endure and come out the other side without leaving a chunk of yourself behind?”
He smiled sadly, said, “Night, pet,” and walked away.
Continued -->
Anyway, have another installment for your Boxing Day!
It's heartwarming and adorable and Spike & Dawn fun!
Only heartbreaking and sad.
<-- Previous Chapter
Chapter One Here
Chapter Fourteen: Forever
Spike heard scrabbling in the cemetery so he put down the car stereo he was carrying home and approached cautiously, expecting a fresh fledgeling to take down.
The sound was coming from near Joyce’s grave, which gave him a sudden, unexpected bolt of hope.
A hope dashed as he got closer and smelled human sweat and fruity shampoo. It was Dawn, on her knees, digging at the fresh sod they’d put over Joyce’s grave.
Perhaps not entirely dashed.
“I hope it’s just dirt your after,” Spike said. “Anything more and you’re getting into zombie territory.”
“I’m not! I… I mean…” the girl looked adorable, all caught out with black magic like it was a diary or a photo of a teen heartthrob. “Don’t tell Buffy.”
“I won’t tell on you. I’m going to help you.”
She got a canny look in her eyes. “Why? This isn’t just because you have a crush on Buffy, is it?”
“Are you joking? Tell Buffy any of this and she’ll drive a redwood through me. Just… don’t like Summer’s women taking it on the chin so hard.” He held out a hand. She reluctantly let him help her to her feet. “So, let’s take a look at that spell you’ve got. Hrm. Grave dirt, check. An image of the deceased -- I’m sure you can swing that. These herbs we can get at the magic shop. Hrm… this bit I’m not sure of, but I know a guy.”
“You’re really going to help me?” Dawn followed him out of the graveyard.
“Said I would. Let’s hit the magic shop first.”
“Don’t take as long picking the lock this time.” She sat down next to the magic shop door and looked up attentively like a kiddie at story time. Spike suspected she was trying to learn his tricks. He moved so his shoulder hid the view. She sighed. “Where you really in a hell dimension for ten years?”
Spike pushed the door open and gestured forward triumphantly. “Just like old times for us, eh, Niblet?”
“Not that old for me. Ten years ago, for you. In a HELL dimension.”
“It wasn’t a hell dimension, per se. Anyway, stop saying that. Suspect Buffy’ll blame me if you’re cussing.”
“But if ten years have passed for you, have you known me for longer than I’ve been alive?”
Spike smiled quietly to himself as he browsed the shelf of herbs. He found what they needed and pocketed it. “It is pretty cool, isn’t it? Like time travel. Since you last saw me, I’ve gained the mysterious and mystical wisdom of a decade.”
“Anya said that you came out of there BUCK NAKED.”
He grimaced. “It was, uh… a clothing optional dimension. And hot. Kinda hot there.”
“Please. Buffy and her friends were trying really hard not to talk about it around me, but I know it was some kind of sex thing.”
Spike must have looked comically aghast, because the girl covered her smile with both hands and looked like she was going to fall over. “Wash your mind out with soap,” he said, and tossed her a bar of “Healing Energies: Chamomile Rose”.
She pocketed the soap pretty deftly. “I’m fourteen. I’m not a baby.”
“Didn’t say you were. Wouldn’t help a baby raise the dead. Now come on, let’s see if that bloke I know is home.”
She re-locked the door and closed it behind them. “You promise you’re not helping me just because of Buffy?”
“Will you let it rest? Fact is, when you aren’t being annoying, you are the more fun of the Summers girls.”
Dawn preened at that.
***
“Mommy?” Buffy stared out on the empty porch, the empty lawn. She collapsed, crying hard, as she hadn’t let herself do, not in front of anyone. Especially not in front of Dawn, but she was crying, and they were both crying and it felt… good. Like letting a wound breathe.
When she calmed down, she wondered why Spike was standing across the street, watching the house.
He was still there when she peeked through the bathroom window after brushing her teeth, so she climbed down the outside of the house.
There was a silly habit.
“All right?” He asked, stepping out of the shadows as she stepped off the rose trellis.
Buffy dusted off her hands on her pajamas. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to intrude, what with the… with the everything. But I was worried about you. And the Niblet.” He took out a cigarette, held it, but didn’t light it. “So… you all right?” He tilted his head.
It was so… normal. He was dressed the same as always, talking the same as always, like a gulf of death and years didn’t separate last week from this. “How do you do it? Spike, how are you still... still you? How do you endure and come out the other side without leaving a chunk of yourself behind?”
He smiled sadly, said, “Night, pet,” and walked away.
Continued -->