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agilebritAnd of course I made her a prezzie. She requested OBAFU fic from the POV of a student, and since I was recently made a vampire in the latest unfortunate attempt to break into the Staff Castle, I thought I'd earned some face time with my favorite vampire. So, without further ado, I give you:
Title: Conversations Between Dead People
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG-13 for bad words and evil thoughts
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Whedon's. *sob* And OBAFU belongs to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
honorh.
Written for:honorh, who requested DawnFic or OBAFUfic for her birthday. I don't have much of a handle on Dawn, or a plot for her, so OBAFU it is. Happy Birthday, Miss H!
Notes: Well, I'm not going to take being turned into a vampire lying down. This takes place after the events in Chapter 19 of "Official Buffy and Angel Fanfiction University," "Things You Shouldn't Do at OBAFU."
Huh. Wuh. Ow....
Crap!
I sat up suddenly, as my last memories came crashing down around me. We'd all been a little...okay, very drunk, and we'd tried to sneak into the Staff Castle. After that, events got fuzzy, something about Drusilla, and a Turok-Han? Fangs in my throat?
Noticing I was in the infirmary, I whimpered and lay back down. That's what I got for drinking. I hadn't had alcohol since college, and the margaritas had hit me like a ton of bricks. And now I was really hungry. Ravenous.
Wait a minute. I remembered hangovers. I should not have been hungry. I should've had a violent headache (check), but food should've been the last thing on my mind. Not just any food, either. Warm, rich, red blood, straight from the vein, or better yet, an artery...
Something soft and squishy hit me on the sternum, and I opened my eyes again. Okay, fine. Straight from the bag. Who...?
Crap, again. Platinum hair, tight black jeans, tight black tee shirt (yum!), no duster (darn!). Spike. Standing there. By my bed. And boy, did he look pissed off. "Um. Hi?" I said weakly, trying to wrench my brain away from the hotness that was--stop that. Bad brain.
He jerked his chin at the bag. "Drink up. Sooner you get used to it the better. What in sodding hell were you thinking?"
"Well, I don't think I was. Thinking." It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip into vamp face and sink my fangs into the bag. Mmm. Good. "Thinking went out the window after the third margarita."
"You bloody humans," he snorted. "Can't hold your liquor for anything."
"Not human anymore," I said, lip trembling a little.
"No, you're not. And let that be a lesson to you," he answered heartlessly. "Sneaking into the Staff Castle is impossible. Every year, someone tries it and ends up as a Noodles hors d'oeuvre." He smacked a folder against his knee. Was that...oh, yes it was. My file. Crap, yet again. "Good God, I expected better from you. You're forty bloody years old. You shouldn't be acting like a schoolgirl with a crush."
"I'm forty, not dead." He lifted that droolworthy scarred eyebrow sardonically. "Okay, maybe I'm dead now," I amended. "But I've got eyes." Now that I was a vampire, I was a lot braver than when I was a human. If I'd met him when I was human, I would have been trembling under the blanket, hoping he'd go away. My demon? Was yelling at me to glomp him, now! I beat it back with an imaginary two-by-four.
"You've got a brain too, luv. Use it. Evil vampire, remember?" I snorted indelicately, which might not have been the brightest thing to do under the circumstances. "Are we forgetting a hundred and twenty years of death, pain, and terror? Would we like to revisit some of it?"
My demon leaped up and said "Yes!" Fortunately, I was able to clamp down on it before the word left my mouth. "Hey, look at it from my point of view," I said instead. "The only reason I started watching the show in the fourth season was because of you. You were so damn cute after you got neutered. I hadn't seen Season Two, so I didn't know about that part of you."
He glared at me wrathfully. "I am not ‘cute'! I'm a big, bad, mean monster, and don't you forget it, you silly little bint!"
"Yuh-huh." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Drusilla, Buffy, and Dawn all had you wrapped right around their fingers. Spike, honey, I saw the way you treated your women. You could have looked like Principal Snyder and I would have liked you. Maybe not so much with the slobbering," I admitted, "but way with the liking."
He opened my file and perused it. "Speaking of that..." Crap, again. Were my uncharitable thoughts about Buffy in there? "Not fit to tie my bootlaces?" Yup. I was in trouble. Again. Still. "Does the phrase ‘Slayer plus vampire equals mortal enemies' ring any bells with you? Of course she didn't believe I loved her. I'd only tried to kill her and all her friends any number of times."
"Oh, sure, but you changed for her!" I protested. "And she didn't give you any credit for it until Season Seven. And the way she used you after ‘Smashed' was shameful. She had no business treating you that way, after you tried so hard to save Dawn."
"Not that I objected too strenuously."
"I know," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not blind; I know you're not completely blameless there, but, damn, Spike...I just wanted you to be happy. And you and Buffy have too much baggage to ever be able to make it together. She could never make you happy, not really." My eyes went dreamy. "Fred, now..."
"Whoa!" He held up a hand. "Are you bloody insane? First of all, she never saw me as anything more than a friend, and secondly, Watcher-boy would have staked me if I'd ever made a move in that direction. Not to mention how Angel would have reacted. Besides, she died, remember? Replaced by the Blue Meanie?"
"Now there's a woman for you. Gave as good as she got in the bit-of-violence department, both of you at loose ends, not really knowing what to do with yourselves..."
"You are completely sack of hammers, you know that?" He snapped the file closed. "Right then. Here's your assignment. In addition to Coach Gyrus' Boot Camp for Rule-Breaking Maggots--" I moaned. "--you are to write a fifteen hundred to two thousand word story with Buffy and me in it, without her being a complete and total bitch. Set in Season Six."
"But she was a complete and total bitch in Season Six! That is so not fair!"
He grinned at me ferally. "No one said punishment around here was fair, pet. But you won't forget it, and you'll never try to break into the Staff Castle again, will you?"
I dropped my eyes. "No, Spike."
"Good. And hey..." He chucked me under the chin. "Thanks for stickin' up for me, but I don't really need it, you know?"
"I know," I said. "But you sure weren't sticking up for yourself."
"We worked it out." He winked. "See you around." He left, and I couldn't help but watch his very fine butt as he walked away. Le sigh.
A thought came to me, and I checked my pockets. Sure enough, I still had that slightly creased photograph of him, shirtless, that Countess Marsters and I had fought over. So...I had to attend Boot Camp for Rule-Breaking Maggots, I had to write a story about Buffy (ugh!), and I was a vampire. But, Spike had talked to me (squee!), I hadn't been thrown out of OBAFU, and I still had the picture.
Life was good.
Title: Conversations Between Dead People
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG-13 for bad words and evil thoughts
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Whedon's. *sob* And OBAFU belongs to
honorh.Written for:
honorh, who requested DawnFic or OBAFUfic for her birthday. I don't have much of a handle on Dawn, or a plot for her, so OBAFU it is. Happy Birthday, Miss H!Notes: Well, I'm not going to take being turned into a vampire lying down. This takes place after the events in Chapter 19 of "Official Buffy and Angel Fanfiction University," "Things You Shouldn't Do at OBAFU."
Huh. Wuh. Ow....
Crap!
I sat up suddenly, as my last memories came crashing down around me. We'd all been a little...okay, very drunk, and we'd tried to sneak into the Staff Castle. After that, events got fuzzy, something about Drusilla, and a Turok-Han? Fangs in my throat?
Noticing I was in the infirmary, I whimpered and lay back down. That's what I got for drinking. I hadn't had alcohol since college, and the margaritas had hit me like a ton of bricks. And now I was really hungry. Ravenous.
Wait a minute. I remembered hangovers. I should not have been hungry. I should've had a violent headache (check), but food should've been the last thing on my mind. Not just any food, either. Warm, rich, red blood, straight from the vein, or better yet, an artery...
Something soft and squishy hit me on the sternum, and I opened my eyes again. Okay, fine. Straight from the bag. Who...?
Crap, again. Platinum hair, tight black jeans, tight black tee shirt (yum!), no duster (darn!). Spike. Standing there. By my bed. And boy, did he look pissed off. "Um. Hi?" I said weakly, trying to wrench my brain away from the hotness that was--stop that. Bad brain.
He jerked his chin at the bag. "Drink up. Sooner you get used to it the better. What in sodding hell were you thinking?"
"Well, I don't think I was. Thinking." It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip into vamp face and sink my fangs into the bag. Mmm. Good. "Thinking went out the window after the third margarita."
"You bloody humans," he snorted. "Can't hold your liquor for anything."
"Not human anymore," I said, lip trembling a little.
"No, you're not. And let that be a lesson to you," he answered heartlessly. "Sneaking into the Staff Castle is impossible. Every year, someone tries it and ends up as a Noodles hors d'oeuvre." He smacked a folder against his knee. Was that...oh, yes it was. My file. Crap, yet again. "Good God, I expected better from you. You're forty bloody years old. You shouldn't be acting like a schoolgirl with a crush."
"I'm forty, not dead." He lifted that droolworthy scarred eyebrow sardonically. "Okay, maybe I'm dead now," I amended. "But I've got eyes." Now that I was a vampire, I was a lot braver than when I was a human. If I'd met him when I was human, I would have been trembling under the blanket, hoping he'd go away. My demon? Was yelling at me to glomp him, now! I beat it back with an imaginary two-by-four.
"You've got a brain too, luv. Use it. Evil vampire, remember?" I snorted indelicately, which might not have been the brightest thing to do under the circumstances. "Are we forgetting a hundred and twenty years of death, pain, and terror? Would we like to revisit some of it?"
My demon leaped up and said "Yes!" Fortunately, I was able to clamp down on it before the word left my mouth. "Hey, look at it from my point of view," I said instead. "The only reason I started watching the show in the fourth season was because of you. You were so damn cute after you got neutered. I hadn't seen Season Two, so I didn't know about that part of you."
He glared at me wrathfully. "I am not ‘cute'! I'm a big, bad, mean monster, and don't you forget it, you silly little bint!"
"Yuh-huh." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Drusilla, Buffy, and Dawn all had you wrapped right around their fingers. Spike, honey, I saw the way you treated your women. You could have looked like Principal Snyder and I would have liked you. Maybe not so much with the slobbering," I admitted, "but way with the liking."
He opened my file and perused it. "Speaking of that..." Crap, again. Were my uncharitable thoughts about Buffy in there? "Not fit to tie my bootlaces?" Yup. I was in trouble. Again. Still. "Does the phrase ‘Slayer plus vampire equals mortal enemies' ring any bells with you? Of course she didn't believe I loved her. I'd only tried to kill her and all her friends any number of times."
"Oh, sure, but you changed for her!" I protested. "And she didn't give you any credit for it until Season Seven. And the way she used you after ‘Smashed' was shameful. She had no business treating you that way, after you tried so hard to save Dawn."
"Not that I objected too strenuously."
"I know," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not blind; I know you're not completely blameless there, but, damn, Spike...I just wanted you to be happy. And you and Buffy have too much baggage to ever be able to make it together. She could never make you happy, not really." My eyes went dreamy. "Fred, now..."
"Whoa!" He held up a hand. "Are you bloody insane? First of all, she never saw me as anything more than a friend, and secondly, Watcher-boy would have staked me if I'd ever made a move in that direction. Not to mention how Angel would have reacted. Besides, she died, remember? Replaced by the Blue Meanie?"
"Now there's a woman for you. Gave as good as she got in the bit-of-violence department, both of you at loose ends, not really knowing what to do with yourselves..."
"You are completely sack of hammers, you know that?" He snapped the file closed. "Right then. Here's your assignment. In addition to Coach Gyrus' Boot Camp for Rule-Breaking Maggots--" I moaned. "--you are to write a fifteen hundred to two thousand word story with Buffy and me in it, without her being a complete and total bitch. Set in Season Six."
"But she was a complete and total bitch in Season Six! That is so not fair!"
He grinned at me ferally. "No one said punishment around here was fair, pet. But you won't forget it, and you'll never try to break into the Staff Castle again, will you?"
I dropped my eyes. "No, Spike."
"Good. And hey..." He chucked me under the chin. "Thanks for stickin' up for me, but I don't really need it, you know?"
"I know," I said. "But you sure weren't sticking up for yourself."
"We worked it out." He winked. "See you around." He left, and I couldn't help but watch his very fine butt as he walked away. Le sigh.
A thought came to me, and I checked my pockets. Sure enough, I still had that slightly creased photograph of him, shirtless, that Countess Marsters and I had fought over. So...I had to attend Boot Camp for Rule-Breaking Maggots, I had to write a story about Buffy (ugh!), and I was a vampire. But, Spike had talked to me (squee!), I hadn't been thrown out of OBAFU, and I still had the picture.
Life was good.
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*Applauds!*
Date: 2004-07-03 10:42 pm (UTC)Re: *Applauds!*
Date: 2004-07-03 11:09 pm (UTC)[hunting through previous fics]
Well...there's this. Does it count? Too angsty?
Anyway...glad you enjoyed this. It was way fun to write.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 05:43 am (UTC)Actually I'm a nonshipper; not caring who does what with whom, as long as they don't do it in the streets and scare the horses...