Semisolid
Title: Semisolid
Author: Mushroomgal
Rating: Softish R
Word Count: 700
Prompt: Repost from Fag Ends, late November. What happens if I go and find Buffy now I’m no longer a ghost?
Setting: AtS5-- Begins during Destiny and goes off-canon from there.
Spike had dragged Harmony down the hallway and had her pinned up against the wall of the little office, his hands running up under her skirt, by the time his brain engaged.
He had spent the past weeks counting the things he would do if and when he got his body back. First, he’d eat something. Get out of sodding Wolfram and Hart and get himself a pint and blooming onion. Some blood too. Then he’d find some little chippy for a tumble. Then off to find a pack of smokes, along another pint or some bourbon. Possibly in the Viper. He’d put cds in the stereo with his very own fingers and sing along with Johnny Rotten while Sid Vicious played bass-he’d feel the rumble of the engine through the seat and the steering wheel as he drove. He’d troll about until he found a spot of violence and revel in making some wicked thing bleed.
God, he had missed being able to taste. He had missed being able to feel.
For the first day or two, finding Buffy had been at the very top of Spike’s list. He had longed for the flavor of her skin on his lips, the texture of her hair in his hands. Just to be near her. He still did. He would be in love until it ended him-he’d known that all along.
It HAD ended him, and it didn’t help.
And yet he’d talked himself out of indulging his need when (if, there was always the if) he became corporeal again. Breaks didn’t come much cleaner than the one that came to them in the Hellmouth. He’d let her go. He’d pretended to see more of her constant, violent ambivalence towards him in her expression of love and hidden how his heart had all but lurched to life at her words. He’d done it so she would go, so she would save herself and find her life without him.
And there was that whole bursting into flame thing. That was pretty final too.
There were so many reasons to stay out of Buffy’s life. It was so easy, albeit painful, to rationalize staying away in the event that NOT staying away became an option. And in an instant, like smoke, all the reasons evaporated away as Harmony moaned into Spike’s shoulder. He backed up, moving hesitantly. “Harm… I’m… I’ve got to go.” He stumbled toward the door, zipping his jeans as he went. Harmony just stared, her mouth wide open. He didn’t hear her shouting after him down the hallway.
***
It took Spike seventeen minutes to find someone who knew where Buffy was staying and threaten and cajole him into sharing the information. Leave it to Evil Lawyers, Inc., to have a person whose entire job consisted of tracking the Slayer. Now that the potentials had been activated, they’d have to expand to a whole department. In another five or so minutes, Spike had broken the driver’s side window of the Viper, hotwired it, and was on the expressway. Good thing it was raining, or he would have been in a tight spot.
He stuck his hand, cut up from breaking the window, out, letting the rain wash over the wounds. Enjoying the sting.
What would he say to her? What if she was happy in her new life, and didn’t want him? What if he had to learn to live without her all over again? What if he had to go back to Wolfram and Hart and the bloody Poofter’s stupid mocking face? He pushed the questions out of his mind. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was seeing her.
***
It was nearly dusk by the time Spike found the address-a bland little duplex on the edge of the city. Standing on the stoop, he could feel Buffy’s presence inside. He could hear her arguing with Dawn-something about how early they needed to leave for LAX to catch their flight tomorrow. Even if he had needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to right now. Somehow, he wouldn’t be real, wouldn’t be truly solid, until he laid eyes on her. Gathering his courage, he lifted his hand.
And knocked.
Author: Mushroomgal
Rating: Softish R
Word Count: 700
Prompt: Repost from Fag Ends, late November. What happens if I go and find Buffy now I’m no longer a ghost?
Setting: AtS5-- Begins during Destiny and goes off-canon from there.
Spike had dragged Harmony down the hallway and had her pinned up against the wall of the little office, his hands running up under her skirt, by the time his brain engaged.
He had spent the past weeks counting the things he would do if and when he got his body back. First, he’d eat something. Get out of sodding Wolfram and Hart and get himself a pint and blooming onion. Some blood too. Then he’d find some little chippy for a tumble. Then off to find a pack of smokes, along another pint or some bourbon. Possibly in the Viper. He’d put cds in the stereo with his very own fingers and sing along with Johnny Rotten while Sid Vicious played bass-he’d feel the rumble of the engine through the seat and the steering wheel as he drove. He’d troll about until he found a spot of violence and revel in making some wicked thing bleed.
God, he had missed being able to taste. He had missed being able to feel.
For the first day or two, finding Buffy had been at the very top of Spike’s list. He had longed for the flavor of her skin on his lips, the texture of her hair in his hands. Just to be near her. He still did. He would be in love until it ended him-he’d known that all along.
It HAD ended him, and it didn’t help.
And yet he’d talked himself out of indulging his need when (if, there was always the if) he became corporeal again. Breaks didn’t come much cleaner than the one that came to them in the Hellmouth. He’d let her go. He’d pretended to see more of her constant, violent ambivalence towards him in her expression of love and hidden how his heart had all but lurched to life at her words. He’d done it so she would go, so she would save herself and find her life without him.
And there was that whole bursting into flame thing. That was pretty final too.
There were so many reasons to stay out of Buffy’s life. It was so easy, albeit painful, to rationalize staying away in the event that NOT staying away became an option. And in an instant, like smoke, all the reasons evaporated away as Harmony moaned into Spike’s shoulder. He backed up, moving hesitantly. “Harm… I’m… I’ve got to go.” He stumbled toward the door, zipping his jeans as he went. Harmony just stared, her mouth wide open. He didn’t hear her shouting after him down the hallway.
***
It took Spike seventeen minutes to find someone who knew where Buffy was staying and threaten and cajole him into sharing the information. Leave it to Evil Lawyers, Inc., to have a person whose entire job consisted of tracking the Slayer. Now that the potentials had been activated, they’d have to expand to a whole department. In another five or so minutes, Spike had broken the driver’s side window of the Viper, hotwired it, and was on the expressway. Good thing it was raining, or he would have been in a tight spot.
He stuck his hand, cut up from breaking the window, out, letting the rain wash over the wounds. Enjoying the sting.
What would he say to her? What if she was happy in her new life, and didn’t want him? What if he had to learn to live without her all over again? What if he had to go back to Wolfram and Hart and the bloody Poofter’s stupid mocking face? He pushed the questions out of his mind. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was seeing her.
***
It was nearly dusk by the time Spike found the address-a bland little duplex on the edge of the city. Standing on the stoop, he could feel Buffy’s presence inside. He could hear her arguing with Dawn-something about how early they needed to leave for LAX to catch their flight tomorrow. Even if he had needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to right now. Somehow, he wouldn’t be real, wouldn’t be truly solid, until he laid eyes on her. Gathering his courage, he lifted his hand.
And knocked.