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Watch this space....
Will be posting fic later today. The YGtS fic is in the final polishing stages, and I even came up with a title for it and the four chapters it came to. Printed out in 9-point font and half-inch margins, it's fourteen pages, and it's a little over 10,000 words.
Soulless, Evil Things
Chapter 1: Decision
"So, Jung divided the unconscious into the collective and the personal," Riley was explaining. He and Buffy were patrolling together for once, and Buffy was taking the opportunity to get some help with her Psychology homework. "He--"
"What's that?" Buffy pointed to a slowly-moving, moaning lump under a tree. They separated a bit and approached it cautiously, weapons ready. Buffy relaxed when she recognized it. "Spike." Her eyes widened in concern as she took in his condition. Not so much concern for him, but worry about what could damage him, of all vampires, that much. Cuts and bruises covered his face, and blood matted his hair. "Riley, keep watch. Whatever did this might still be around. Spike?" She turned him over as gently as she could. "What did this?"
"Buffy," he whispered. "You came...knew you would..." His eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
"Oh, God. Riley? We need to get him someplace safe so he can heal and tell us what did this to him. If there's a new Big Bad in town, I need to know about it, and soon."
"Isn't his crypt right over there?"
"Yeah. Go get the door for me, ‘kay?" She effortlessly picked Spike up and began carrying him that way.
"What a woman," Riley said, admiration in his voice. He loped ahead and burst through the door of Spike's crypt, surprising Harmony.
"Hey! Rude much? Don't you knock? People, like, live here, you know." She gasped when Buffy followed Riley in. "Blondie Bear? What did you do to him?" Harmony shouted, jumping to a logical conclusion.
"It wasn't us." Buffy laid Spike on the sarcophagus. "Have you heard anything about a new player in town?"
Harm sniffled a little while Buffy and Riley took Spike's duster off and cut his blood-soaked T-shirt away. "No, nothing. But he tends to protect me from nasties. Oh my God."
Spike's entire torso was one big bruise, from below his collarbones all the way down to his jeans. Several ribs were obviously, horribly, broken, and five deep claw marks sliced diagonally downward from his left shoulder to his right hip.
Soulless, Evil Things
Chapter 1: Decision
"So, Jung divided the unconscious into the collective and the personal," Riley was explaining. He and Buffy were patrolling together for once, and Buffy was taking the opportunity to get some help with her Psychology homework. "He--"
"What's that?" Buffy pointed to a slowly-moving, moaning lump under a tree. They separated a bit and approached it cautiously, weapons ready. Buffy relaxed when she recognized it. "Spike." Her eyes widened in concern as she took in his condition. Not so much concern for him, but worry about what could damage him, of all vampires, that much. Cuts and bruises covered his face, and blood matted his hair. "Riley, keep watch. Whatever did this might still be around. Spike?" She turned him over as gently as she could. "What did this?"
"Buffy," he whispered. "You came...knew you would..." His eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
"Oh, God. Riley? We need to get him someplace safe so he can heal and tell us what did this to him. If there's a new Big Bad in town, I need to know about it, and soon."
"Isn't his crypt right over there?"
"Yeah. Go get the door for me, ‘kay?" She effortlessly picked Spike up and began carrying him that way.
"What a woman," Riley said, admiration in his voice. He loped ahead and burst through the door of Spike's crypt, surprising Harmony.
"Hey! Rude much? Don't you knock? People, like, live here, you know." She gasped when Buffy followed Riley in. "Blondie Bear? What did you do to him?" Harmony shouted, jumping to a logical conclusion.
"It wasn't us." Buffy laid Spike on the sarcophagus. "Have you heard anything about a new player in town?"
Harm sniffled a little while Buffy and Riley took Spike's duster off and cut his blood-soaked T-shirt away. "No, nothing. But he tends to protect me from nasties. Oh my God."
Spike's entire torso was one big bruise, from below his collarbones all the way down to his jeans. Several ribs were obviously, horribly, broken, and five deep claw marks sliced diagonally downward from his left shoulder to his right hip.