(no subject)
Home is Where All the Senses Are
Rating: PG
A/N: A short piece from Spike's POV at the end of Show Time
She will come for me. She will come for me.
That mantra had sustained him these long days. Buffy believed in him. He had to believe that she would come for him.
Spike opened his eyes and glanced around the cave, wondering where The First was now, and when it would be back to torment him some more. He smiled at the empty space and shifted to ease his shackles. This bloody villain didn't know much about vampires. It obviously thought it was tormenting Spike with images of his loves.
But it didn't know that vampires lived in a world that was more than sight and superficial sound. Take its simulation of Dru. Oh, it moved right and talked mostly like his insane former lover. But a non-corporeal being could never imitate the unique scent of Drusilla: musty clothes and old blood overlain by a sharp, coldness that prickled in his nose.
Or Buffy. It had the waterfall of golden hair right, and her musical voice. But there was no heartbeat. That strong patter that told Spike so much of what the Slayer was feeling. Strong and slow when she was thinking. Speeding up to a drumbeat crescendo as she readied herself for a fight.
No, The First had no clue.
He closed his eyes, the pain of the sigils inscribed on his flesh distracting his musings. When he opened them again, he saw The First approaching, this time holding a knife. His wounds throbbed, and his head swam, but he managed to scoff. "A knife now, is it?"
It stepped closer, and Spike continued, " What'll...what'll that...you-you can't hurt me. You're-you're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just..."
Suddenly, it hit him. A heartbeat. Strong and slow. And the complex melange of dried blood and old sweat underneath floral shampoo andclean soap. All that mingled with the fresh scent of the Slayer. She reached up to cut his bonds, and he could feel welcome heat wash over him. Human body heat.
Free of the bonds and their support, he collapsed forward, and she caught him, solid arms surrounding and supporting him. She was so close he could almost taste her, and the wash of sensation thrilled him.
"You. Oh."
Joy suffused him, banishing the pain and loneliness of the last few days. As they walked, together, out of the cave, he thought,
Home is where all the senses are.
Rating: PG
A/N: A short piece from Spike's POV at the end of Show Time
She will come for me. She will come for me.
That mantra had sustained him these long days. Buffy believed in him. He had to believe that she would come for him.
Spike opened his eyes and glanced around the cave, wondering where The First was now, and when it would be back to torment him some more. He smiled at the empty space and shifted to ease his shackles. This bloody villain didn't know much about vampires. It obviously thought it was tormenting Spike with images of his loves.
But it didn't know that vampires lived in a world that was more than sight and superficial sound. Take its simulation of Dru. Oh, it moved right and talked mostly like his insane former lover. But a non-corporeal being could never imitate the unique scent of Drusilla: musty clothes and old blood overlain by a sharp, coldness that prickled in his nose.
Or Buffy. It had the waterfall of golden hair right, and her musical voice. But there was no heartbeat. That strong patter that told Spike so much of what the Slayer was feeling. Strong and slow when she was thinking. Speeding up to a drumbeat crescendo as she readied herself for a fight.
No, The First had no clue.
He closed his eyes, the pain of the sigils inscribed on his flesh distracting his musings. When he opened them again, he saw The First approaching, this time holding a knife. His wounds throbbed, and his head swam, but he managed to scoff. "A knife now, is it?"
It stepped closer, and Spike continued, " What'll...what'll that...you-you can't hurt me. You're-you're just a bloody figment, you are. You're just..."
Suddenly, it hit him. A heartbeat. Strong and slow. And the complex melange of dried blood and old sweat underneath floral shampoo andclean soap. All that mingled with the fresh scent of the Slayer. She reached up to cut his bonds, and he could feel welcome heat wash over him. Human body heat.
Free of the bonds and their support, he collapsed forward, and she caught him, solid arms surrounding and supporting him. She was so close he could almost taste her, and the wash of sensation thrilled him.
"You. Oh."
Joy suffused him, banishing the pain and loneliness of the last few days. As they walked, together, out of the cave, he thought,
Home is where all the senses are.