Spuffy ficathon
As with my Gunn fic, I'm posting my Spuffy ficathon entry now since I'll be gone for the weekend.
I wrote this for ladyoneill. She requested a happy reunion between Spike & Buffy plus Lindsey (had to make it difficult). :) She also didn't want to see Angel trashed to get Spike and Buffy back together. I hope you like this.
Thanks to silvertedy for helping me rewrite this. It very much wanted to be Spike/Angel. I'm not sure it's as Spuffy as it should be, but it's much better than it was. The way it was originally going would have ended with Spike and Angel having sex in Buffy's guest bedroom. And while some Spuffy readers might not mind such a scene, provided Spike and Buffy are together at the end, this was not going to end in Spuffy love. So thank you Silvertedy for all your help. I hope this pleases at least one reader. :)
The Appian Way
“If you love her, go to her.”
“Oh, sure. Easy for you to say, your girl's not halfway round the world--now is she? Do you even have a girl?”
Doyle ignored the question, steering the conversation back to Spike. “If you really love her, that shouldn't matter. Take the firm’s jet. You'll be there in a few hours.”
“I'd have to pick up a bottle of Jack. Can't stand those teeny, little airline bottles.”
“Uh... yeah.”
“Takes dozens to get a good buzz.” He knocked back the rest of his beer. “By the time the stewardess comes ‘round with another one, you could’ve downed five.”
“Riiiight,” Doyle drawled. “So, like I was saying, if you want her, go get her.”
“Whatever. Why you so bloody concerned? Not like she’s one of your damsels you’ve been havin’ me save. Hell, she could crack both our crowns.”
Spike didn’t expect an answer, and he didn’t get one. But Doyle’s words wove through his thoughts long after they closed down the bar.
That had been weeks ago. He and Doyle had been shooting pool, having a couple of beers. Spike had asked him if he'd ever really been in love. Doyle had said no, but had pushed Spike to talk about Buffy. Of course, Spike now knew that Doyle was really some old enemy of Angel’s. Imagine that, the noble Angel with an enemy. Even now, Spike smirked at the thought. Lindsey was his real name. Spike guessed he’d been pumping him for information, trying to get the goods on Buffy to use against Angel.
But whatever Lindsey’s motivation, the result was Spike sitting on Angel's jet preparing for the long flight to Italy, with a miniature bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. Too bad he hadn’t remembered the entire conversation all the times he’d played it in his head.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Spike turned in his seat to see Angel standing in the aisle.
“I'm getting ready to fly away. Woulda thought that was obvious.”
“Spike.” Angel had a pained look on his face. “Did you plan on telling me you were taking my jet to Europe?”
“No,” he smirked. “Thought you’d be pleasantly surprised to be rid of me.”
Angel just shook his head, not sure where to begin.
“Look, Angel. I need to see her. I don't care what you think. I need to see her. To see that she's okay. To let her know I'm back. To let her know I'm here if she needs me. And I bloody well don’t need your permission, even if I need your wheels.”
The words came tumbling out of Spike's mouth. Angel remained rooted to the spot, unable to speak for several seconds. If either of them had had a heart, its beats would have echoed in the silent cabin.
“You know you're wrong for her,” he whispered.
“Maybe. But I'm here if she wants me. She's got a right to know that.”
“I should go with you. But I don’t think I’m the one she wants to see.” Angel thought back to his last conversation with her--that crazy cookie dough metaphor. And Andrew’s words that night on the pier, Who do you think I got the order from? He still didn’t completely understand, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. “I may not like you, Spike, but Buffy’s a grown woman. I have to respect her wishes. Let her live her own life. And if that life includes you, well…”
Spike was surprised by Angel’s words, almost choking on his rye. He could clearly see the pain Angel was trying to hide. “I respect her, Angel. If she doesn’t want me, I’ll be back. Annoying you isn’t as much fun, but it’s not a bad way to pass the time.”
Angel’s face was hard and he gritted, “You hurt her and that’s it, though, Spike--if she doesn’t stake you, I will.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Not gonna hurt her, Peaches.” Love her, never hurt her. “Now get outta here before they flash the seat belt sign and I’m stuck with you.”
***
Spike drank a few more bottles of bourbon then slept the rest of flight. When the plane landed, he hesitated, unsure.
Hell, the last time I planned this trip I didn't even get out of L.A. What if she doesn't want to see me?
His thoughts drifted back to his last moments with Buffy, when she’d taken his hand in hers as he’d started to burn.
”I love you,” she said.
“No you don’t. But thanks for saying it.”
The look in her eyes, maybe it had been love. Maybe she wouldn’t turn him away. Spike stepped off the plane, entered the airport, and headed off to hail a cab.
***
The ride to Buffy’s had been quick -- not much traffic hustling to the Vatican or the Coliseum at 2 a.m. He stood outside her building staring at the door for what felt like forever. A few lights were on, but the house was quiet.
“Maybe they're out,” he thought. “I should be so lucky.”
“Knock on the door, already.” For Christ’s sake! Of all people, he had Angel’s voice in his head.
“What if the Bit's doin' homework or something? I don't want to keep her from her studies.”
“It’s 2 in the morning, Spike, she’s in bed.” Spike could just hear Angel give that put upon, irritated sigh of his. Always coming off so bloody superior. “You didn’t come all this way to chicken out.”
“What, you’re on my side now? You’re not even here!”
“Knock on the door, Spike.” There was a warning in his tone.
“Fine! I’m going,” Spike huffed.
Stepping up to the door, Spike lifted the brass knocker, and clicked it. One solid wrap on the hard, old oak. A few seconds later, he heard footsteps inside. A shift of light at the peephole and then silence.
As Spike fought the urge to fidget--Lord, I need a smoke. the door opened to reveal Buffy.
Spike stepped into the light and looked up at her, “Slayer.”
Buffy stared at him, silent.
“Sorry I didn't call, it was kinda a last minute trip.” Spike stepped up to her and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I'm real, love. Back from dust, thanks to some bad guys out for Angel’s balls.”
Buffy hesitated then raised her hand to Spike’s cheek. “I know,” she whispered as she stepped forward and dropped her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair as he felt her start to shake.
“Don’t cry, love,” he whispered as he squeezed her closer and tried to digest what she’d just admitted.
They stood motionless for several minutes before she pulled back and wiped her check then tilted her head up to place a soft kiss on his lips.
“Come inside?” Buffy took Spike’s hand and started toward the door.
“Sure, love.”
Buffy led him into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? ... There’s no blood in the house, but I have wine.” She’d grown nervous and uncertain.
“No thanks, love. Sit down, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Nothing spectacular... I’ve been slaying, keeping the wild child from tearing up the city, working with the new slayers….” Even in the dim light, Spike could see the strength and maturity in Buffy’s eyes, as she made light of her daily routine. “Enough about me. Tell me what happened. I’d heard you were alive, but... how?”
Spike swallowed the questions clogging his throat--Why hadn’t she come? Or called? If she had known, where… Now was not the time. Maybe he didn’t need to know. Not anymore. “I got sucked into that amulet. Someone mailed me to Wolfram & Hart and Angel had the bad luck of being on the receiving end. He opened the package and I came out like some genie, ‘cept I don’t think I’m what The Big Guy was wishin’ for. Now I’m working with him. End of story.”
Spike could just imagine Angel shaking his head at his oversimplification of everything. But really, wasn’t that basically what had happened? What was the point of bogging it all down with details? Not like they made either him or Angel look all that great.
“So where’s the Little Bit? She asleep already?”
“Spike, it’s after 2, of course she’s asleep. She’s got school tomorrow. And she’s not so little anymore. She could give you a good run.” Buffy grinned and Spike saw the briefest memory of the girl she’d once been. “I could wake her, but I’d rather you stayed long enough for her to see you.”
“I’m in no rush, Buff. I’m here as long as you’ll have me -- if you don’t mind me staying here, of course.”
“Sure.... Let me... let me show you to the guest room.”
“Of course, love. As long as there’s curtains. I may be back from dust, but I’m still not too partial to that big glowing ball of fire in the sky.”
Buffy smiled, “Yeah, we have curtains. And blinds. They come standard on most windows these days, you know.”
“Good. Then perhaps we should go up now so you can get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Dawn’ll have lots of questions.” Buffy led him up the stairs, stopping at a door midway down the hall. She opened it and turned on the light. The two stood in the doorway staring at each other, neither able to break the gaze. Finally, Buffy kissed him softly. “Goodnight, Spike.”
A/N on the title: The Appian Way was the ancient road leading into Rome.
I wrote this for ladyoneill. She requested a happy reunion between Spike & Buffy plus Lindsey (had to make it difficult). :) She also didn't want to see Angel trashed to get Spike and Buffy back together. I hope you like this.
Thanks to silvertedy for helping me rewrite this. It very much wanted to be Spike/Angel. I'm not sure it's as Spuffy as it should be, but it's much better than it was. The way it was originally going would have ended with Spike and Angel having sex in Buffy's guest bedroom. And while some Spuffy readers might not mind such a scene, provided Spike and Buffy are together at the end, this was not going to end in Spuffy love. So thank you Silvertedy for all your help. I hope this pleases at least one reader. :)
The Appian Way
“If you love her, go to her.”
“Oh, sure. Easy for you to say, your girl's not halfway round the world--now is she? Do you even have a girl?”
Doyle ignored the question, steering the conversation back to Spike. “If you really love her, that shouldn't matter. Take the firm’s jet. You'll be there in a few hours.”
“I'd have to pick up a bottle of Jack. Can't stand those teeny, little airline bottles.”
“Uh... yeah.”
“Takes dozens to get a good buzz.” He knocked back the rest of his beer. “By the time the stewardess comes ‘round with another one, you could’ve downed five.”
“Riiiight,” Doyle drawled. “So, like I was saying, if you want her, go get her.”
“Whatever. Why you so bloody concerned? Not like she’s one of your damsels you’ve been havin’ me save. Hell, she could crack both our crowns.”
Spike didn’t expect an answer, and he didn’t get one. But Doyle’s words wove through his thoughts long after they closed down the bar.
That had been weeks ago. He and Doyle had been shooting pool, having a couple of beers. Spike had asked him if he'd ever really been in love. Doyle had said no, but had pushed Spike to talk about Buffy. Of course, Spike now knew that Doyle was really some old enemy of Angel’s. Imagine that, the noble Angel with an enemy. Even now, Spike smirked at the thought. Lindsey was his real name. Spike guessed he’d been pumping him for information, trying to get the goods on Buffy to use against Angel.
But whatever Lindsey’s motivation, the result was Spike sitting on Angel's jet preparing for the long flight to Italy, with a miniature bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. Too bad he hadn’t remembered the entire conversation all the times he’d played it in his head.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Spike turned in his seat to see Angel standing in the aisle.
“I'm getting ready to fly away. Woulda thought that was obvious.”
“Spike.” Angel had a pained look on his face. “Did you plan on telling me you were taking my jet to Europe?”
“No,” he smirked. “Thought you’d be pleasantly surprised to be rid of me.”
Angel just shook his head, not sure where to begin.
“Look, Angel. I need to see her. I don't care what you think. I need to see her. To see that she's okay. To let her know I'm back. To let her know I'm here if she needs me. And I bloody well don’t need your permission, even if I need your wheels.”
The words came tumbling out of Spike's mouth. Angel remained rooted to the spot, unable to speak for several seconds. If either of them had had a heart, its beats would have echoed in the silent cabin.
“You know you're wrong for her,” he whispered.
“Maybe. But I'm here if she wants me. She's got a right to know that.”
“I should go with you. But I don’t think I’m the one she wants to see.” Angel thought back to his last conversation with her--that crazy cookie dough metaphor. And Andrew’s words that night on the pier, Who do you think I got the order from? He still didn’t completely understand, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. “I may not like you, Spike, but Buffy’s a grown woman. I have to respect her wishes. Let her live her own life. And if that life includes you, well…”
Spike was surprised by Angel’s words, almost choking on his rye. He could clearly see the pain Angel was trying to hide. “I respect her, Angel. If she doesn’t want me, I’ll be back. Annoying you isn’t as much fun, but it’s not a bad way to pass the time.”
Angel’s face was hard and he gritted, “You hurt her and that’s it, though, Spike--if she doesn’t stake you, I will.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Not gonna hurt her, Peaches.” Love her, never hurt her. “Now get outta here before they flash the seat belt sign and I’m stuck with you.”
***
Spike drank a few more bottles of bourbon then slept the rest of flight. When the plane landed, he hesitated, unsure.
Hell, the last time I planned this trip I didn't even get out of L.A. What if she doesn't want to see me?
His thoughts drifted back to his last moments with Buffy, when she’d taken his hand in hers as he’d started to burn.
”I love you,” she said.
“No you don’t. But thanks for saying it.”
The look in her eyes, maybe it had been love. Maybe she wouldn’t turn him away. Spike stepped off the plane, entered the airport, and headed off to hail a cab.
***
The ride to Buffy’s had been quick -- not much traffic hustling to the Vatican or the Coliseum at 2 a.m. He stood outside her building staring at the door for what felt like forever. A few lights were on, but the house was quiet.
“Maybe they're out,” he thought. “I should be so lucky.”
“Knock on the door, already.” For Christ’s sake! Of all people, he had Angel’s voice in his head.
“What if the Bit's doin' homework or something? I don't want to keep her from her studies.”
“It’s 2 in the morning, Spike, she’s in bed.” Spike could just hear Angel give that put upon, irritated sigh of his. Always coming off so bloody superior. “You didn’t come all this way to chicken out.”
“What, you’re on my side now? You’re not even here!”
“Knock on the door, Spike.” There was a warning in his tone.
“Fine! I’m going,” Spike huffed.
Stepping up to the door, Spike lifted the brass knocker, and clicked it. One solid wrap on the hard, old oak. A few seconds later, he heard footsteps inside. A shift of light at the peephole and then silence.
As Spike fought the urge to fidget--Lord, I need a smoke. the door opened to reveal Buffy.
Spike stepped into the light and looked up at her, “Slayer.”
Buffy stared at him, silent.
“Sorry I didn't call, it was kinda a last minute trip.” Spike stepped up to her and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I'm real, love. Back from dust, thanks to some bad guys out for Angel’s balls.”
Buffy hesitated then raised her hand to Spike’s cheek. “I know,” she whispered as she stepped forward and dropped her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair as he felt her start to shake.
“Don’t cry, love,” he whispered as he squeezed her closer and tried to digest what she’d just admitted.
They stood motionless for several minutes before she pulled back and wiped her check then tilted her head up to place a soft kiss on his lips.
“Come inside?” Buffy took Spike’s hand and started toward the door.
“Sure, love.”
Buffy led him into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? ... There’s no blood in the house, but I have wine.” She’d grown nervous and uncertain.
“No thanks, love. Sit down, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Nothing spectacular... I’ve been slaying, keeping the wild child from tearing up the city, working with the new slayers….” Even in the dim light, Spike could see the strength and maturity in Buffy’s eyes, as she made light of her daily routine. “Enough about me. Tell me what happened. I’d heard you were alive, but... how?”
Spike swallowed the questions clogging his throat--Why hadn’t she come? Or called? If she had known, where… Now was not the time. Maybe he didn’t need to know. Not anymore. “I got sucked into that amulet. Someone mailed me to Wolfram & Hart and Angel had the bad luck of being on the receiving end. He opened the package and I came out like some genie, ‘cept I don’t think I’m what The Big Guy was wishin’ for. Now I’m working with him. End of story.”
Spike could just imagine Angel shaking his head at his oversimplification of everything. But really, wasn’t that basically what had happened? What was the point of bogging it all down with details? Not like they made either him or Angel look all that great.
“So where’s the Little Bit? She asleep already?”
“Spike, it’s after 2, of course she’s asleep. She’s got school tomorrow. And she’s not so little anymore. She could give you a good run.” Buffy grinned and Spike saw the briefest memory of the girl she’d once been. “I could wake her, but I’d rather you stayed long enough for her to see you.”
“I’m in no rush, Buff. I’m here as long as you’ll have me -- if you don’t mind me staying here, of course.”
“Sure.... Let me... let me show you to the guest room.”
“Of course, love. As long as there’s curtains. I may be back from dust, but I’m still not too partial to that big glowing ball of fire in the sky.”
Buffy smiled, “Yeah, we have curtains. And blinds. They come standard on most windows these days, you know.”
“Good. Then perhaps we should go up now so you can get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Dawn’ll have lots of questions.” Buffy led him up the stairs, stopping at a door midway down the hall. She opened it and turned on the light. The two stood in the doorway staring at each other, neither able to break the gaze. Finally, Buffy kissed him softly. “Goodnight, Spike.”
A/N on the title: The Appian Way was the ancient road leading into Rome.