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Because Cavemen Have Fire, the Sequel. Chapter 4.
OK, here goes. A little rushed (sorry about any mistakes etc.), but since it's now half term (two weeks!) it's limited how much time I'll get for this. Previous parts here, and thank you to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh for the look-through!
Summary: There are always consequences.
Setting: Post-NFA.
Rating: Mild R.
Pairings: S/B/A.
Word count: Just under 2000 words.
Feedback: Pretty please? *is not above begging*
Disclaimer: I am not Joss and do not own these characters! [/obvious]
Chapter 4
When Buffy arrived at the Council she found Faith in the lobby, surrounded by younger slayers.
“Hey - Queen B is here. Scram!” Faith said good-naturedly, and reluctantly they scattered, leaving only Dawn, who looked like she was glued to Faith’s side.
“You too brat,” Faith admonished, and Buffy frowned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Academy?”
“Ancients Text Studies today!” Dawn countered. “Get to wander around in the archives and get told off by The Ancient Keepers of the Books. Oh! And Vicky said that-”
“Dawn? Go. Away.”
Her little sister rolled her eyes.
“Geez, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning. Aren’t Spike and Angel back soon? You’re lots happier when you’re getting some.”
“Dawn!”
Sensing that she might actually be in physical danger soon, Dawn finally got up.
“OK OK, I’m going! You could say thank you that I called you, you know!”
“Thank you. Now shoo. Or I tell your boyfriend that you once kissed a vampire!”
With an evil glance and an angry flick of her hair Dawn walked off, and Buffy sighed and fell into the chair next to Faith.
“Sisters!”
Faith chuckled and Buffy could feel the tension draining away.
“So tell me everything - why were you taking my place as Giles’ person to yell at? Not that I’m complaining.”
Faith sighed and shot her a droll look.
“I lost the manuscript.”
Well that explained a lot...
“The one you went to find? The very, very super-rare manuscript that was The Last Copy in existence and all that?”
“Uh-huh,” Faith nodded. “Which, y’know, fair enough, I screwed up. But then he started rippin’ into my methods and dude - no Watcher tells me how to do my job. And that was before he started off down memory lane, sayin’ how it all used to be better when there was a shit load of Watchers around ordering us around. That kinda crap might work with the junior crowd, but I know what the Council used to be like, and almost gettin’ assassinated ain’t exactly helping me see the rose tinted vision, y’know?”
“Oh trust me, I know,” Buffy answered.
The next half hour was spent listening to Faith’s very own brand of story telling, until she stretched, yawning.
“OK. Gotta go find my bed, I think the jet lag is setting in.”
Then she shot Buffy a too-sharp-for-comfort look. “Which, by the way, how’s your bed-situation?”
“Huh?”
“Hey - don’t mean to pry, but you’ve not mentioned your guys at all, and that’s just not normal.”
For a moment the events of the past twelve hours flashed before Buffy’s eyes, and a dozen conflicting emotions fought for dominance. But then, suddenly, she knew what to do, and a slow grin spread across her face.
“Remember Christmas?” she began, wondering why she’d never thought to do this before.
***
In the end, Buffy stayed at the Council almost all day. She told herself that she wasn’t being avoidy, there was just a lot of work (which was perfectly true), and also she’d promised Dawn that they’d have dinner together.
When she got back it was after eight o’clock, and she met Angel on the stairs, obviously heading out.
He stopped when he saw her, that impenetrably stubborn look still on his face.
“Angel-” she began, and then faltered, since she didn’t actually know what to say. He studied her silently for a long moment, monolithic and immovable, his eyes dark.
“You once told me that you loved me, but didn’t trust me. That was a good call.”
“What? Angel-”
“I’ll probably be late, don’t wait up,” he said, walking past her, and she wanted to scream at him - or maybe just stick out a foot and watch him fall.
Instead she did the grown-up thing and tried to ignore him completely. Spike, hopefully, would be easier to talk to, although to be honest he couldn’t be more difficult, since the only thing more uncommunicative than Angel was a big rock.
Spike was sprawled on the sofa when she came in, TV blaring, but he turned it off as soon as he saw her.
“So... um... how’s Faith?”
“She’s... fine. Lost a manuscript, but these things happen.”
“Right.”
There was an uncomfortable pause, as Spike shifted on the sofa.
“Angel went out - needed to... see a guy about a thing.”
“Yeah, I... met him on the stairs. He told me that I shouldn’t trust him, which is just...”
She sighed and hung up her coat.
“Hello Mr Cryptic Night Creature, observe how much I’ve not missed you.”
Spike didn’t say anything at first, but got up and then apparently didn’t know what to do, before finally catching her eyes.
“He’s not wrong.”
“Spike-”
“Look, you don’t understand-”
“Because you don’t explain! It’s been months and you’ve not said a word! How the hell am I supposed to ‘understand’?”
Her frustration from earlier on was obviously still there, and this time Spike was giving Angel a good run for his money in the Looking Stubborn department.
“We’ve not talked about it because you can’t understand!”
They locked eyes, and she shook her head.
“I refuse to accept that. Explain.”
He closed his eyes briefly, anger and built-up tension in every line of his body, and fists briefly clenching.
“Fine. Here’s how it is: Angel and I? We’re in love with pain. What we have is old, and ugly, and it’s pure demon. But - it works. It’s what stops us from rippin’ each other’s throats out, fightin’ over you.”
He was stalking towards her now, movements slow and deliberate, eyes burning with intensity.
“Loving you? That’s what stops us from ripping out your throat.”
She swallowed, but didn’t move as he stopped in front of her, their bodies almost touching and his eyes suddenly flickering gold.
“You were born to slay us - we were born to destroy you. Your blood sings to us to drink you up until there’s nothing left. Do you know how often we dream of it? How easy it’d be?”
He leaned in, and she could feel his face change against her neck, fangs pressing against old scars, his arms folding around her as he pulled her flush against him, and for a second she couldn’t breathe.
It was as if the darkness of his crypt was once more closing in around them - like dancing with death just to touch the fire; like want-take-have and paying the price in tears and bruises and self-loathing. She could feel her breath grow shallow as he pressed against her, hard and demanding and dangerous, and, as she closed her eyes, she whispered, “I trust you.”
He pulled back so abruptly that she was left swaying on her feet, trying to regain her balance.
“Don’t,” he said, backing away, terror in his eyes.
“Spike...”
“Angel’s right, we shouldn’t have come here.”
“Oh don’t you dare!”
The next second he was on the floor, wincing in pain, and she was standing above him, fist still raised and tears stinging in her eyes.
“See pet?” he said, and she shook her head as she lowered her hand.
“No. No - I won’t let this happen. This is not who we are anymore.”
She could see the way his skin was beginning to redden, and felt like the ground beneath her was sinking.
“Isn’t it?” he asked, as he slowly picked himself up off the floor. “We are playing with fire, and one wrong spark - just one - could burn down the whole house.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, fighting against the shaking that was threatening to take hold of her.
“Because one day you’ll realise that no matter how much you love us, we’ll always be monsters.”
Slowly she shook her head.
“Do you love me?”
He looked like his heart was breaking, blue eyes an ocean she could easily drown in.
“Always,” he whispered.
“Then you’re not a monster.”
“It’s not that simple...”
“I am making it that simple. Spike - I know what you are, and I’m not going to let your... issues destroy what we’ve got. I want the fire, because I’ve tried to live without it. And I’m not going back to that, ever.”
“Buffy...” he said, and she stepped closer, reaching out and capturing his hand.
“Listen, I’ve had enough of hiding - especially of you two hiding what you have. Which is why, by now, probably even the little Slayers in Australia know about you and Angel being lovers.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
“Secrets are bad, sharing is good. So whether you or Angel need to fight or kiss, or both - just do it. I don’t want you to hold back anymore. I’ve lost you both and now I've got you back I will not allow you to run away, understood?”
He nodded carefully, and she smiled, finally feeling on firmer ground.
“Will you make love to me? Just you, and me? I need you to know that I mean it.”
His kiss was pure surrender.
***
Buffy knew that she was awake, only she couldn’t remember waking. She’d fallen asleep in Spike’s arms, but he had obviously moved, since there was a pillow under her head instead of an arm. Shifting a fraction, she turned her head to see what could have woken her.
The room was black, but the bedroom curtains were half-open - through carelessness or on purpose, she couldn’t remember - and the bright white of the street lamps passed over her head and painted her two vampires in hues of darkest blue and shimmering silver. Like an old monochrome movie playing just for her.
Angel - still in his coat, so dark that he looked like a shadow - was furthest from her, half-sitting on the bed and resting his back against the headboard. Spike, naked skin gleaming, was turned towards him.
Had they been here long? Had they been talking? There was an odd quietness about them, far removed from the usual bickering and also from the naked lust of the previous night.
“So?” Angel asked.
“Well... we... discussed things.”
“So I see,” Angel remarked drily, and Spike shook his head. “This was just the finale. Got kinda messy before that, but she’s made up her mind that we’re working this out.”
“Spike... “
“Listen, you want to argue with her too, go ahead, it won’t change her mind. Also she’s decided that secrets are bad, so she apparently spent today telling everyone about you and me.”
“You and me... What about you and me?”
“What do you think, moron? It’s lucky we don’t show up on film anymore or I’m sure she’d have handed out photographic evidence.”
Angel’s mouth fell open, but Spike just shrugged, a small wicked smile playing on his lips.
“So I was thinkin’- if we’re going to include her in our little freak show somehow, we could get her a whip? Not that she’d have Darla’s expertise, but I’m sure she’d be a natural.”
Angel didn’t reply immediately, but the look on his face spoke volumes. Then abruptly he pulled Spike towards him, his left hand fisting in Spike’s hair.
“Bite your tongue,” he said, voice rough, but Spike chuckled and leaned in, eyes glowing.
“Do it for me,” he answered, voice a low purr, and Angel’s nostrils flared before he captured Spike’s mouth with his own.
For a moment they flickered into gameface, then there was just the deep, slow kiss of those who didn’t need to breathe, and Buffy could feel the rest of world fall away.
This was hers. Theirs. All this passion and fire - dark and dangerous, true, but also beautiful, and utterly captivating. She could watch them forever.
Still - when they finally broke apart she coughed politely.
“A whip?”
Time stood still as they turned to her, but at least they didn’t flinch or break apart.
For what seemed like an eternity Angel didn’t speak.
“Whips are... nice,” he finally said, half-embarrassed and half-defiant, and somehow looking like he was ten years old, which was cute and, if she was honest, not a little creepy.
But more importantly, he was apparently making an effort instead of trying trying to shut her down.
“Nice?” she repeated (because he wasn’t getting off easy) and Angel squirmed a little more, as Spike quietly moved out of the way.
“It takes great skill to wield a whip properly, and they’re very... versatile.”
She nodded.
“OK, we’ll get one.”
Angel swallowed.
”Buffy...”
“Yes Angel?” she said sweetly.
His only answer was a kiss, deep and hungry, which left her gasping for air and with the coppery tang of Spike’s blood on her tongue.
But if that was the price for love, then it was worth paying.
Chapter 5.
kathyh for the look-through! Summary: There are always consequences.
Setting: Post-NFA.
Rating: Mild R.
Pairings: S/B/A.
Word count: Just under 2000 words.
Feedback: Pretty please? *is not above begging*
Disclaimer: I am not Joss and do not own these characters! [/obvious]
Chapter 4
When Buffy arrived at the Council she found Faith in the lobby, surrounded by younger slayers.
“Hey - Queen B is here. Scram!” Faith said good-naturedly, and reluctantly they scattered, leaving only Dawn, who looked like she was glued to Faith’s side.
“You too brat,” Faith admonished, and Buffy frowned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Academy?”
“Ancients Text Studies today!” Dawn countered. “Get to wander around in the archives and get told off by The Ancient Keepers of the Books. Oh! And Vicky said that-”
“Dawn? Go. Away.”
Her little sister rolled her eyes.
“Geez, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning. Aren’t Spike and Angel back soon? You’re lots happier when you’re getting some.”
“Dawn!”
Sensing that she might actually be in physical danger soon, Dawn finally got up.
“OK OK, I’m going! You could say thank you that I called you, you know!”
“Thank you. Now shoo. Or I tell your boyfriend that you once kissed a vampire!”
With an evil glance and an angry flick of her hair Dawn walked off, and Buffy sighed and fell into the chair next to Faith.
“Sisters!”
Faith chuckled and Buffy could feel the tension draining away.
“So tell me everything - why were you taking my place as Giles’ person to yell at? Not that I’m complaining.”
Faith sighed and shot her a droll look.
“I lost the manuscript.”
Well that explained a lot...
“The one you went to find? The very, very super-rare manuscript that was The Last Copy in existence and all that?”
“Uh-huh,” Faith nodded. “Which, y’know, fair enough, I screwed up. But then he started rippin’ into my methods and dude - no Watcher tells me how to do my job. And that was before he started off down memory lane, sayin’ how it all used to be better when there was a shit load of Watchers around ordering us around. That kinda crap might work with the junior crowd, but I know what the Council used to be like, and almost gettin’ assassinated ain’t exactly helping me see the rose tinted vision, y’know?”
“Oh trust me, I know,” Buffy answered.
The next half hour was spent listening to Faith’s very own brand of story telling, until she stretched, yawning.
“OK. Gotta go find my bed, I think the jet lag is setting in.”
Then she shot Buffy a too-sharp-for-comfort look. “Which, by the way, how’s your bed-situation?”
“Huh?”
“Hey - don’t mean to pry, but you’ve not mentioned your guys at all, and that’s just not normal.”
For a moment the events of the past twelve hours flashed before Buffy’s eyes, and a dozen conflicting emotions fought for dominance. But then, suddenly, she knew what to do, and a slow grin spread across her face.
“Remember Christmas?” she began, wondering why she’d never thought to do this before.
In the end, Buffy stayed at the Council almost all day. She told herself that she wasn’t being avoidy, there was just a lot of work (which was perfectly true), and also she’d promised Dawn that they’d have dinner together.
When she got back it was after eight o’clock, and she met Angel on the stairs, obviously heading out.
He stopped when he saw her, that impenetrably stubborn look still on his face.
“Angel-” she began, and then faltered, since she didn’t actually know what to say. He studied her silently for a long moment, monolithic and immovable, his eyes dark.
“You once told me that you loved me, but didn’t trust me. That was a good call.”
“What? Angel-”
“I’ll probably be late, don’t wait up,” he said, walking past her, and she wanted to scream at him - or maybe just stick out a foot and watch him fall.
Instead she did the grown-up thing and tried to ignore him completely. Spike, hopefully, would be easier to talk to, although to be honest he couldn’t be more difficult, since the only thing more uncommunicative than Angel was a big rock.
Spike was sprawled on the sofa when she came in, TV blaring, but he turned it off as soon as he saw her.
“So... um... how’s Faith?”
“She’s... fine. Lost a manuscript, but these things happen.”
“Right.”
There was an uncomfortable pause, as Spike shifted on the sofa.
“Angel went out - needed to... see a guy about a thing.”
“Yeah, I... met him on the stairs. He told me that I shouldn’t trust him, which is just...”
She sighed and hung up her coat.
“Hello Mr Cryptic Night Creature, observe how much I’ve not missed you.”
Spike didn’t say anything at first, but got up and then apparently didn’t know what to do, before finally catching her eyes.
“He’s not wrong.”
“Spike-”
“Look, you don’t understand-”
“Because you don’t explain! It’s been months and you’ve not said a word! How the hell am I supposed to ‘understand’?”
Her frustration from earlier on was obviously still there, and this time Spike was giving Angel a good run for his money in the Looking Stubborn department.
“We’ve not talked about it because you can’t understand!”
They locked eyes, and she shook her head.
“I refuse to accept that. Explain.”
He closed his eyes briefly, anger and built-up tension in every line of his body, and fists briefly clenching.
“Fine. Here’s how it is: Angel and I? We’re in love with pain. What we have is old, and ugly, and it’s pure demon. But - it works. It’s what stops us from rippin’ each other’s throats out, fightin’ over you.”
He was stalking towards her now, movements slow and deliberate, eyes burning with intensity.
“Loving you? That’s what stops us from ripping out your throat.”
She swallowed, but didn’t move as he stopped in front of her, their bodies almost touching and his eyes suddenly flickering gold.
“You were born to slay us - we were born to destroy you. Your blood sings to us to drink you up until there’s nothing left. Do you know how often we dream of it? How easy it’d be?”
He leaned in, and she could feel his face change against her neck, fangs pressing against old scars, his arms folding around her as he pulled her flush against him, and for a second she couldn’t breathe.
It was as if the darkness of his crypt was once more closing in around them - like dancing with death just to touch the fire; like want-take-have and paying the price in tears and bruises and self-loathing. She could feel her breath grow shallow as he pressed against her, hard and demanding and dangerous, and, as she closed her eyes, she whispered, “I trust you.”
He pulled back so abruptly that she was left swaying on her feet, trying to regain her balance.
“Don’t,” he said, backing away, terror in his eyes.
“Spike...”
“Angel’s right, we shouldn’t have come here.”
“Oh don’t you dare!”
The next second he was on the floor, wincing in pain, and she was standing above him, fist still raised and tears stinging in her eyes.
“See pet?” he said, and she shook her head as she lowered her hand.
“No. No - I won’t let this happen. This is not who we are anymore.”
She could see the way his skin was beginning to redden, and felt like the ground beneath her was sinking.
“Isn’t it?” he asked, as he slowly picked himself up off the floor. “We are playing with fire, and one wrong spark - just one - could burn down the whole house.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, fighting against the shaking that was threatening to take hold of her.
“Because one day you’ll realise that no matter how much you love us, we’ll always be monsters.”
Slowly she shook her head.
“Do you love me?”
He looked like his heart was breaking, blue eyes an ocean she could easily drown in.
“Always,” he whispered.
“Then you’re not a monster.”
“It’s not that simple...”
“I am making it that simple. Spike - I know what you are, and I’m not going to let your... issues destroy what we’ve got. I want the fire, because I’ve tried to live without it. And I’m not going back to that, ever.”
“Buffy...” he said, and she stepped closer, reaching out and capturing his hand.
“Listen, I’ve had enough of hiding - especially of you two hiding what you have. Which is why, by now, probably even the little Slayers in Australia know about you and Angel being lovers.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
“Secrets are bad, sharing is good. So whether you or Angel need to fight or kiss, or both - just do it. I don’t want you to hold back anymore. I’ve lost you both and now I've got you back I will not allow you to run away, understood?”
He nodded carefully, and she smiled, finally feeling on firmer ground.
“Will you make love to me? Just you, and me? I need you to know that I mean it.”
His kiss was pure surrender.
Buffy knew that she was awake, only she couldn’t remember waking. She’d fallen asleep in Spike’s arms, but he had obviously moved, since there was a pillow under her head instead of an arm. Shifting a fraction, she turned her head to see what could have woken her.
The room was black, but the bedroom curtains were half-open - through carelessness or on purpose, she couldn’t remember - and the bright white of the street lamps passed over her head and painted her two vampires in hues of darkest blue and shimmering silver. Like an old monochrome movie playing just for her.
Angel - still in his coat, so dark that he looked like a shadow - was furthest from her, half-sitting on the bed and resting his back against the headboard. Spike, naked skin gleaming, was turned towards him.
Had they been here long? Had they been talking? There was an odd quietness about them, far removed from the usual bickering and also from the naked lust of the previous night.
“So?” Angel asked.
“Well... we... discussed things.”
“So I see,” Angel remarked drily, and Spike shook his head. “This was just the finale. Got kinda messy before that, but she’s made up her mind that we’re working this out.”
“Spike... “
“Listen, you want to argue with her too, go ahead, it won’t change her mind. Also she’s decided that secrets are bad, so she apparently spent today telling everyone about you and me.”
“You and me... What about you and me?”
“What do you think, moron? It’s lucky we don’t show up on film anymore or I’m sure she’d have handed out photographic evidence.”
Angel’s mouth fell open, but Spike just shrugged, a small wicked smile playing on his lips.
“So I was thinkin’- if we’re going to include her in our little freak show somehow, we could get her a whip? Not that she’d have Darla’s expertise, but I’m sure she’d be a natural.”
Angel didn’t reply immediately, but the look on his face spoke volumes. Then abruptly he pulled Spike towards him, his left hand fisting in Spike’s hair.
“Bite your tongue,” he said, voice rough, but Spike chuckled and leaned in, eyes glowing.
“Do it for me,” he answered, voice a low purr, and Angel’s nostrils flared before he captured Spike’s mouth with his own.
For a moment they flickered into gameface, then there was just the deep, slow kiss of those who didn’t need to breathe, and Buffy could feel the rest of world fall away.
This was hers. Theirs. All this passion and fire - dark and dangerous, true, but also beautiful, and utterly captivating. She could watch them forever.
Still - when they finally broke apart she coughed politely.
“A whip?”
Time stood still as they turned to her, but at least they didn’t flinch or break apart.
For what seemed like an eternity Angel didn’t speak.
“Whips are... nice,” he finally said, half-embarrassed and half-defiant, and somehow looking like he was ten years old, which was cute and, if she was honest, not a little creepy.
But more importantly, he was apparently making an effort instead of trying trying to shut her down.
“Nice?” she repeated (because he wasn’t getting off easy) and Angel squirmed a little more, as Spike quietly moved out of the way.
“It takes great skill to wield a whip properly, and they’re very... versatile.”
She nodded.
“OK, we’ll get one.”
Angel swallowed.
”Buffy...”
“Yes Angel?” she said sweetly.
His only answer was a kiss, deep and hungry, which left her gasping for air and with the coppery tang of Spike’s blood on her tongue.
But if that was the price for love, then it was worth paying.
Chapter 5.
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I liked it!
Also, the Giles-y stuff made me curious....
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:D
I liked it!
Heh. I thought you might...
Also, the Giles-y stuff made me curious....
That is a good call, although probably not for the reasons you think. *is mysterious*
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Spike, hopefully, would be easier to talk to, although to be honest he couldn’t be more difficult, since the only thing more uncommunicative than Angel was a big rock.
Heee! *pets Angel*
“It takes great skill to wield a whip properly, and they’re very... versatile.”
Heee! *Scolds Angel*
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Squee!
I walk a razor's edge between grotesque and schmoop, and somehow manage to keep it real, and painful, and compassionate. And funny.
It's a tricky balancing act, that's for sure. Have no idea how I'm doing it, really, but am v. happy that apparently it works. :)
Heee! *pets Angel*
Not a great talker, our Angel. *pets him too*
Heee! *Scolds Angel*
For being a naughty boy? Can't help it, I don't think...
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Heeee. And I hope she would have shared it with us!
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(I am totally going to read your fic, btw, but I'm saving it up until I've finished this one.)
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Sorry for the confusion, I should have made that clearer.
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Would you like a happy distraction? Look what I just found and posted!
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Yeah, really ought to have reminded people. Will try to insert it in a later chapter.
Would you like a happy distraction? Look what I just found and posted!
Squee! \o/
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In the original story they used the spell Lindsey did (since they're hiding from W&H), and thus do not show up on any video etc.
Sorry for the confusion, it's all my fault.
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There's something so horribly uncomfortable about the whole thing, haha, but I see Spike is the necessary component to making it work. He's so damned blunt and easygoing when faced with an obstacle: 'oh, you're not gonna budge? Fine, I'll adjust then, you difficult sods.'
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Um... a bit?
There's something so horribly uncomfortable about the whole thing, haha, but I see Spike is the necessary component to making it work.
Oh exactly. And I'm glad you used the word 'uncomfortable', because it's supposed to be. Spike and Angel aren't wrong when they try to push her away, although of course she's not wrong either in wanting to keep them...
He's so damned blunt and easygoing when faced with an obstacle: 'oh, you're not gonna budge? Fine, I'll adjust then, you difficult sods.'
LOL! That's it exactly. (Without him, I don't think Buffy and Angel would last a week, they're both that awkward.)
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The inherent conflict of Buffy being a slayer and Angel & Spike being vampires is actually so rarely confronted I think - I mean the idea of eaching being designed to destroy the other and what that means if they are in a relationship. Not at least as deeply as you are exploring it. While hard to confront at times, I love that you are doing it because Buffy's declaration of love and trust that much sweeter and deeper.
Also love Buffy's ingenious manner to show just how far Buffy is willing to go to make their relationship work by using the slayer/council rumor mill. An excellent example of Buffy's creativity. :)
Fantastic chapter. Another great read. :)
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*grins* As always, it's the simplest things that work the best.
The inherent conflict of Buffy being a slayer and Angel & Spike being vampires is actually so rarely confronted I think - I mean the idea of eaching being designed to destroy the other and what that means if they are in a relationship. Not at least as deeply as you are exploring it.
Part of it, in this story, is the fact that there's two of them, and, because of their very specific history, they tilt towards darkness when together - and that spills over.
While hard to confront at times, I love that you are doing it because Buffy's declaration of love and trust that much sweeter and deeper.
Oh yeah. :)
Also love Buffy's ingenious manner to show just how far Buffy is willing to go to make their relationship work by using the slayer/council rumor mill. An excellent example of Buffy's creativity. :)
She a smart, and very unconventional, girl, is our Buffy! (And of course she knows how damaging secrets can be...)
Fantastic chapter. Another great read. :)
Aw, thanks! And thank you for your wonderful comments.
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So boomy brain says: fic good, vampires pretty, Buffy smart.
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Heeeee! I don't think I've ever made anyone's brain go boom before. :)
So boomy brain says: fic good, vampires pretty, Buffy smart.
Well thank you. I think I like your boomy brain!
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And, as Spike said, I'm sure she'll be a natural with the whip and surpass Darla's skill once she's had some practice!
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I like to see my Buffy grow, although sometimes she has to be pushed into it. But once she knows what she wants, she'll go for it. :)
And, as Spike said, I'm sure she'll be a natural with the whip and surpass Darla's skill once she's had some practice!
Oh yeah!
And thank you for reading!
Because Cavemen Have Fire, the Sequel. Chapter 4.
Not to trust Angel? Maybe yes, he almost drained Buffy ones. Spike didn't do that. He's more in tune (for the lack of a better word) with his demon.
Well I hope Buffy's talk with Spike made it clear what she needs - being excluded isn't part of it.
Re: Because Cavemen Have Fire, the Sequel. Chapter 4.
*nods* I'm hopefully making sure that Giles doesn't come across too badly. There's two sides to every story after all.
Not to trust Angel? Maybe yes, he almost drained Buffy ones. Spike didn't do that. He's more in tune (for the lack of a better word) with his demon.
Yeah, it's all... complicated. And Buffy and Angel are both such Alphas, wanting things to be *their* way. (Which is why they need Spike, otherwise I couldn't see them lasting two minutes.)
Well I hope Buffy's talk with Spike made it clear what she needs - being excluded isn't part of it.
Indeed. And she can be very persuasive! :)
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I'm glad Faith is finally a part of the "big slayers family" and I'm glad that she's a friend for Buffy. Maybe, she's just too cheerful? But then again, I love a post!Chosen friendship between the chosen two.
Buffy really want this relationship with both Spike and Angel and she's gonna fight for it! Go Buffy, go!
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And oh, Buffy is fighting her corner, yes. I like writing mature!Buffy, who knows what she wants.