Season Six Schmoop fics

 

 

 

 

Title: Nights Off Are Overrated.

Prompt: Holiday

Summary: A missing, and probably unlikely (but schmoopy) season six scene that begins just after they return to the house after rescuing Dawn and Janice.

 

Nights Off Are Overrated

 

"Good fight." Buffy said.  Spike blinked and nodded at the unexpected compliment.

 

"Always is when I'm with you," he said, so softly only she heard it.  He winked at her and started to follow the others out the door, halting when she said his name. He turned, raising his eyebrows at her.  "Something else you need, pet?"

 

"I was just...." She frowned at the floor.  "I was wondering if...." She glanced up at his curious face. "Do you think those were the only vamps out tonight? Should I patrol?" 

 

Spike cocked his head and seemed to give her question due thought.  "Dunno, Buffy. It's not like takin' the night off is some kind of hard and fast vampire rule, like 'don't go out in the sun, or play with sharp pointed wooden objects'.  Some countries don't even have Halloween; I'm sure the vamps don't take off there."

 

"So, you're saying, yes. I probably should patrol. Just in case those guys aren't the only ones?" 

 

"Up to you, luv. I'm willin' if you are.  I can sleep tomorrow – you'll need to get up."

 

"I should probably patrol. Just for a while."  The fight earlier, rather than tiring her out, had energized her in a way she hadn't felt since her return.  The idea of going quietly to bed so early in the evening was suddenly not appealing at all.

 

"After you, Slayer."  He held the door and waited for her to duck under his arm before pulling it shut behind them.  As they walked down the sidewalk, heading briskly for the nearest cemetery, he asked, "Did you grab your key?"

 

"If you mean Dawn -– hell, no! She's grounded forever.  If you mean my housekey...." She felt in her pocket.  "Dammit!"

 

She kicked a stone down the street and followed it, muttering to herself. When Spike caught up with her, she had just kicked the stone again, bouncing it off the stone pillars at the cemetery entrance.

 

"Relax, Slayer. Your window's probably unlocked anyway.  You'll just have to get in the old-fashioned way."  He smirked at her and made climbing motions.

 

Buffy snorted a laugh.  "I haven't had to do that for so long, I'd almost forgotten about it."  She slid her eyes to the side and gave him a suspicious glare. "How do you know about my window?"

 

His eyes darted around, looking for help before he admitted. "When you were first... gone, the Bit had nightmares.  She'd go into your room and lie on your bed, crying.Ó He shrugged. "I knew you used to go in and out that way, so I tried the window one night when I couldn't stand to hear her cry any more. It was open."

 

"And...." 

 

"And, once she stopped falling asleep in there, I...." He shrugged again, put his hands in his pockets and looked away from her.  "It smelled like you, Buffy.  It just made things a little easier, knowing I was keeping watch like I promised, and doing it from your room.  Didn't mean to violate your privacy, pet. Had no idea you'd be back to complain about it, did I?"

 

"I'm not complaining," she said. "It's just kind of strange – knowing you were in my room all that time, maybe in my bed— Were you in my bed?"

 

"Not answerin' that one," he said, dancing away from where she stood, hands planted on hips and indignant glare on her face.  When he felt he was sufficiently far enough away to escape if he needed to, he continued, "But I swear to you, the sheets have been changed... several times."

 

Buffy threw her stake so that the blunt end hit him on the forehead.  "You are such a pig!"

 

"Too true," he said, rubbing his head. "And ow!"  He bent down to retrieve the stake. As he straightened up, his eyes widened and in one fluid motion he stood up and threw the stake past Buffy's astonished eyes and into the chest of the fledgling that had crept up on her while they talked. She whirled, noted the dust floating away and ducked the punch thrown by another still-dirt covered vamp.

 

"What the hell?" She kicked the attacking vampire back and pulled an extra stake from her waistband.  Spike, meanwhile, had stepped forward to intercept another newly-risen vampire that hadn't yet realized he wasn't facing two humans.  Working as if their moves had been choreographed, they used the same kicks and punches to drive the vampires to the ground, then drove stakes through their chests simultaneously.

 

Still bent over the dust of her opponent, Buffy glanced over at Spike to see him just beginning to stand up again.  He offered her a hand and she allowed him to pull her upright.

 

"We make a pretty good team," she said, grinning at him.  "I think we could take that act on the road."

 

"We've always danced well together, pet," he said. "Jus' now we're doing it as a team instead of as enemies."

 

"I always kind of liked fighting you," she said, ducking her head and looking at him from under her eyelashes. "Even when you were trying to kill me. It was fun."

 

"Some of the best times of my life," he agreed, still holding the hand he'd used to pull her up.  "But think I like fighting <i>beside </i>you better."

 

"You do?" Buffy wondered how long he was going to hold on to her hand, and why she wasn't pulling it away.

 

"I do," he confirmed. "I like to watch you when you don't need any help and I'm just watching you back. You're poetry in motion when you fight. All style and grace... and lethal as it gets." He smiled at her. "My kind of woman."

 

Buffy blushed, embarrassed by his praise and the emotion so obvious in his eyes.

 

"I thought your kind of woman was, you know, taller, paler and less sun-loving?"

 

"I thought so too. Was wrong," he said, finally dropping her hand. "Not like you didn't already know that, Buffy." His voice contained just the slightest trace of rebuke, and she nodded.

 

"I did," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to be funny."

 

"'S alright, pet. It's nice to see you tryin' to make jokes again – weak as they may be...."

 

Buffy tossed her hair and began walking again. Without discussing it, they went farther into Restfield, Buffy's eyes darting around for signs of other newbies that hadn't yet been clued in to taking the night off, but the surroundings remained quiet and empty, only the owls and the insects disturbing the late night silence.  They gradually slowed their steps, stopping near his crypt and settling onto a nearby bench.

 

"Was this bench always here?" Buffy frowned, trying to remember if she'd ever seen it before.

 

"Nope," he said, leaning back against the tree behind it.  "Thought the crypt needed an outdoor sitting area – case I want to invite folks to a cookout or something."

 

Buffy glanced around.  "A cookout. In a cemetery.  You are one strange vampire, William the Bloody."

 

"Not exactly the average slayer yourself, are you, luv?" She sniffed and tried to hide her smile, but he had no trouble seeing it in the moonlight. "Ah, making jokes and smiling. If you aren't careful, you might catch yourself enjoyin' life again."

 

She heaved a sigh and leaned back herself, her shoulder touching his as she tried to rest against the tree without falling over backwards.  Spike shifted over just enough, and put his arm around her, letting her lean against his body instead of the tree.

 

"I guess everybody'd like that, wouldn't they?" she said. "If I'd stop being all depresso-Buffy and start acting like I'm glad to be here."

 

Spike tightened his arm slightly and stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched.

"You know, Slayer, you're going to have to tell them someday.  There's no reason for you to carry this around by yourself without sharing it with the people responsible.  If they knew, they'd get off your back and stop pressuring you to—."

 

She shrugged.  "I can't do that to them... to Willow.  It would destroy her."

 

"Better her than you," he said, holding her a little more tightly as she started to slip.

 

"I can handle it.  I'll be all right." She paused and tilted her head to look at his shadowed face.  "I've got you to share it with."

 

"Keeping it between us formerly dead people, are you?"

 

"Isn't that okay?" She struggled briefly to sit up straighter, but Spike's arm held her tightly. "Do you not want me to talk about it with you?"

 

"Didn't say that, love. If talking to me is what you need to do, you know I'll listen all night.  Hell, if you need to beat on me to work off some righteous anger at your mates, have at it.  I'm yours, Buffy. To do with as you like. Always will be."

 

"Mine," she repeated.  "My vampire."  She turned and relaxed against him, her head resting on his chest and her arm going across his body. 

 

"Always," he whispered, putting his other arm around her and holding her in a comforting embrace. "Always and forever."

 

"I like that," she mumbled against his shirt. "I think I could get used to it."

 

"That's the plan," he murmured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

 

"Good plan."

 

If the owls thought it strange to see two people cuddling quietly on a cemetery bench in the middle of the night, they kept their opinions to themselves.

 

The End

 

 

 

Title: You Need What You Need

Prompt: A friend in need

Rating: PG

Summary: Spike and Dawn with just a hint of Spuffy. He's always there for his girls when they need him.

 

 

You Need What You Need

 

 

"Spike! Spike, where are you? This is important!" Dawn's voice was somewhere between a whine and a command.  Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for him to answer her. A mutually embarrassing encounter the previous week had taught her not to climb down into his bedroom without an invitation; even though the glimpse she'd had of his naked body sprawled on the bed had her thinking her sister was seriously crazy not to want what they all knew Spike wanted to give her.

 

"What's the big emergency, Nibblet?" came a grumpy voice from downstairs. "And don't come down here!" 

 

Dawn frowned, not sure she wasn't hearing a whispered conversation from the lower level, but she responded sharply. "Wasn't planning to! I'm scarred enough as it is."

 

"'s what you get for peeping into a man's bedroom uninvited," he said, his tousled hair appearing at the top of the ladder.  He was just tugging his tee-shirt into place as he climbed into the room, making Dawn very grateful she hadn't looked downstairs.

 

"You're not a man," she huffed, turning away so he wouldn't see her flaming face.

 

"Is that so? Could've fooled me. I was sure it was my manly bits that had you screaming and coverin' your eyes last week," he said, wincing when he heard something crash downstairs.

 

"What's that? Is there somebody here? Were you... Ewwww, Spike!"

 

"Keep your 'ewws' to yourself, pet." Spike's face was suddenly serious. "I'm a grown man and I'm entitled to have a life. One that doesn't include checking with little girls to see if my activities are acceptable. You got that, Bit?"

 

Dawn's eyes filled with tears she tried to blink back.  Since Buffy's death the previous spring, Spike had never spoken to her in anything but soft tones and with affection. Granted, she wasn't seeing him as much now that Buffy was back, but he was always glad to see her when he did. This unwelcoming, and apparently busy Spike wasn't what she'd come to his crypt for.

 

"I... I'm... sorry. I'll just... Never mind."  She whirled and sped toward the door, choking back a sob.  A firm hand on her backpack halted her forward progress; she stopped, but refused to turn around.

 

"I'm sorry, Dawn." Spike sighed, his voice once again the patient, loving one she was used to. "Had no right to growl at you like that.  It's just... you're my Nibblet, and I'd like to keep you sweet and innocent as long as possible. Gonna be hard to do that if you keep popping into my home when I'm not expecting you."

 

"I'm not all that innocent," she grumbled, relaxing her shoulders but still not turning around to face him.

 

"You bloody well better be! Or I'll be testing out the limits of this chip on the wanker responsible."

 

"Oh, so you can have a sex life, but I can't. Is that what you're saying?"  She gave a haughty sniff and tried to look mature and worldly as she turned around to glare at him.

 

"Got it in one, pet. That's exactly what I'm saying.  There's no reason for you to even think about copying my lifestyle – any of it – any more than you might want to take up drinking blood just 'cause I do it."

 

"It doesn't seem very fair. Why not?"

 

He stared at her, his eyes bulging comically.  "Why not?" he roared, forgetting about being gentle with her.  "Why not?"

 

"Yeah." Dawn raised her chin and gave him a stubborn stare.  "Why not?  I've got Buffy to treat me like a ten-year-old. You're supposed to be my friend, and friends help their friends... do stuff."

 

He gave a bloodcurdling snarl, clenched his fists, and visibly seized hold of his temper. Taking a deep breath, he led her to the chair and gestured for her to sit.  He began pacing in front of her.

 

"Let's go back to why you should be doing as I say and not as I do.  You are fifteen, human, vulnerable, and all the woman I love has left in the way of a family.  I'm 150 years old and a vampire – an evil soulless creature who has been cultivating his bad habits for over a century. Stop me when I get to something we have even remotely in common."

 

"We both love Buffy," she said, so quietly only his vampire hearing allowed him to catch it.  She repeated it more loudly when he didn't respond. "We both love Buffy."

 

"We do," he admitted. "And that's why it's so important to me that you stay safe.  Your sis has enough to worry about right now without you doing anything more dangerous than living in this hell-hole of a town.  There isn't a one of my bad habits wouldn't put you in some kind of danger. Not a one."

 

He dropped to his knees in front of her and took her hands in his,  "Do you understand what I'm sayin' here, Nibblet?  We love you, your sis and I. We're not trying to keep you from having fun or growing up, we're jus' trying to keep you safe while you do it."

 

"You can't speak for Buffy. You don't know what she's been like since she came... back.  I don't think she loves anybody."

 

He flinched and glanced toward the ladder. "She does, Bit. She loves just as much as she ever did. She's jus' having a hard time showing it right now. Give her some time.  Think about where she was and what it must feel like to have lost that."  He cupped her cheek with one hand. "You can show me how much you're growing up by having some compassion for your sister. I know being a teenager is all about being the one the world revolves around. And I know that last year, with the whole Glory thing going on, it pretty much did revolve around you. But now? Now it's got to be about Buffy."

 

"Buffy wasn't much older than me when she boinked Angel." Dawn's lip came out in stubborn pout.


"An' we all know how well that turned out...."

 

"Okay, bad example, but—"

 

"There are no 'but's here, Bit.  There's just doing what we can to ease her burden and help her learn to live in the world again. An' if that means passing up some good times.,.."

 

"You were more fun before you fell in love with Buffy," she grumbled, hiding a smile.

 

"Don't doubt that for a minute, Bit," he said, grinning and rising to his feet. "But it is what it is. You'll just have to deal with it."

 

"Hmmmph!"  Dawn stood up too and moved toward the door.

 

"What did you want?" he said. "When you came bustin' in here all annoyed that I wasn't right here at your service?"

 

"Oh. I wanted you to help me with my French homework. But it's okay, I can—"

 

"I'll come by this evening," he interrupted. "We'll work on it while the Slayer's busy slinging hamburgers."

 

"You will? Really?" She broke into a smile. "You'll help me?"

 

" 's what friends are for, innit?"

 

Dawn waved and walked out into the sunlight, remembering at the last second to grab the door and pull it shut behind her.  Spike watched the room darken before he spoke.

 

"You heard?"

 

"I heard...  Thank you. You didn't need to do that." 

 

He stiffened in surprise when she rested her cheek against his back and put her arms around him. 

 

"It's what friends are for, love." He turned around slowly and put his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.  "It's what friends are for."

 

 

 

The End

Others set in Season Six:

 

As I Should Be Series: four fics beginning with ŇAs I Should BeÓ and continuing from there.

Two Christmas fics not yet posted.