FanFic
Warning - Kinda Spoilerish!!! My pre-emptive strike on how Buffy finds out that Spike is Alive. Try as I might, I cannot conceive that Spike would not have contacted Buffy at all during Season 5 of Angel. This is Spike we’re talking about! Never static, always moving forward, unable not to act, this is the bloke who as a vampire with no soul felt impelled to tell Buffy he loved her, after all, a man’s gotta do what her can, gotta try. I understand that he might have had reservations, fears and doubts about contacting Buffy, diminishing the big heroic death and all but this wouldn’t have been enough to make him not act. Spike may have gotten a soul but it didn’t change him, he’s still all about the moving forward, the learning, the adapting, the risk taking. In my mind Spike would have contacted Buffy just after Cordelia died due to the charade of his ‘destiny’ being exposed and urged on by seeing Angel deal with his closest friend’s death (mind you, I don’t believe Cordelia is conventionally dead either, but that’s another story). My short story The Phone-Call (written by Tranquillity 15/04/07) details this. In my theory, for the second half of Angel season 5 Spike is in contact with Buffy, knows her location and about her body doubles but keeps the confidence from Angel. This is in keeping with the way he never corrected Xander or Angel when they derided his relationship with Buffy. Spike is able to keep his mouth shut because, he realises that his arguing with them won’t change their opinion and it still won’t change the fact that he did have a strong relationship with her. I also think this would make The Girl in Question (A 5.20) particularly funny. This idea came to me soon after reading the solicitations for The Long Way Home #1 and I just wanted to get this idea out of me before the Comic completely change my perspective. Obviously I don’t own any of the characters yadda yadda yadda and borrow them purely for non-profit, entertainment purposes.
Rated: PG
The Phone-Call
Buffy sat at her desk knowing that she really should be doing some of the god-awful administration work that came with the gig of managing an army of Vampire Slayers. She wished she could palm it off on somebody else, well Giles actually, but hey, that wouldn’t be fair – he had enough to deal with and she was, after all, Head Honcho, the Big Banana, the Supreme Slayer. The job wasn’t all imparting words of wisdom and physical training – too bad for her.
She hears the phone in her outer office ring. She hears Rachel answer the phone (at least she thinks its Rachel – so many slayers each doing a tour of duty as her administrative assistant, it’s easy to get them confused). It will be Giles, of course. The phone number is like, a national secret. Giles and
The phone on her desk rings and even though Buffy was expecting it, the sound still makes her jump. She snatches up the receiver.
“Hello”
Long pause.
“Hello?”
Another shorter pause then,
“Buffy.”
Buffy’s heart stops beating for a moment.
“Who is this?” she demands her voice low with suspicion and anger. Only her worst enemy would dare imitate that voice, that person.
“Buffy, it’s
Yet it can’t be him, she knows that for a fact!
“Sorry, try again. He’s dead.’ Her words are cold, like a steel knife cutting the damned pretender to shreds.
“Yeah, um, the thing of it is, I was. But I’m not now. Hard to keep us hero types down, you should know that. Buffy?”
The voice is spot on perfect! It’s uncanny. She wishes it was him, wants it to be him. Maybe…
“Spike?”
“Yeah love, it’s me.’
God she wants to believe.
“Hold on” she orders, and takes the phone away from her ear then trying to sound normal, casual, nonchalant even, she calls to Rachel (if that’s her name) to shut the office door. Oh, and also, no interruptions.
Rachel does as she’s told and now Buffy is safely cocooned in her office, hands shaking, heart pounding. Wondering what on earth to say now.
“Are you still there?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, if you’re Spike, and I’m not saying I believe you, because well…, well you’re going to have to prove it.”
“Okay. How?”
“Tell me something that only Spike and I know.”
Heartbeat.
There’s an amused snort on the other end of the line. “Good god, where do I start?”
Okay too broad Buffy realises. A question? And then it comes to her in a blinding flash…
“What was the last thing I said to you down in the hell mouth then?”
She swore she heard her mysterious caller swallow hard on the other end of the line.
“You said… you told me that you loved me.”
“Lucky guess. What did Spike say to me?”
“I said… I said that you didn’t but I thanked you for saying it and then I told you to push off.”
Buffy could hear the blood pounding in her ears and felt her heart beating thunderously against her chest, felt her eyes fill with warm water.
“Idiot!”
“Excuse me?”
“Why would you have said that? I never understood why. It’s plagued me for…, well, it’s still plaguing me.”
“Buffy, are you all right?”
Typical. How like him to be concerned about her when she was kind of pissed off with him! Damn tears!
“Buffy?”
“I’m fine,” she quickly replies then manages, “Just… just a bit emotional on this end”
“Not just your end love,” he admits.
God, how many times had they seen each other cry? Not that they could see each other at the moment. She wondered how he was, what he looked like.
Well, duh – vampire. Eternal youth. Same old Spike.
Questions suddenly attack the dominating feeling of relief. Weird, relief is what she’s feeling, like she’s just found the very thing she’d been looking for, like she’d just been given her right arm back.
“Where are you?”
Easy question first.
“LA.”
“What? Why? No, wait, how are you alive?”
“Long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
So the next fifteen, twenty minutes are filled with a long and entertaining tale of a bloody amulet, (something more we have in common love, being bought back when you’re good and done), life as a ghost, being the reluctant spectral intern at an evil law firm, which is, as she knows all too well, run by her old sweetie bear. Then there was the amusing flash-in-a-box that got him back to being a solid citizen. There’s also some stuff about a bit of a tussle between Spike and his ol’ grand sire and no, it didn’t involve oil of any kind just a lot of blood thank you very much and then there’s the part how he doesn’t like being used, specially when the git who does the string pulling is some old nemesis of Angel’s, and oh, yeah, did he mention that he really, really hates it when he’s being used as a pawn in someone else’s game? And he did run into Andrew recently – that’s where he got her direct number and how is that crazy slayer doing anyway? Oh, and by the way, Cordelia’s dead.
“Dead?”
“Yeah, not to clear on the details. Just that she’d been in hospital for a while. Angel’s pretty cut up about it though. I think. Pretty hard to tell. Not overly free with his emotions is the old geezer. He’s uptight. Ageing him bad. What about your end. What happened after, you know, Sunnydale came crashing down?”
So Buffy returns the favour and tells Spike about the adventures that she and the others have been having since Sunnydale went kaboom. Seems weird he doesn’t know. Actually, not all that fun really.
“That’s sad. How’s the boy?”
“He’s okay. Doing well, now.”
“And the girls, how many, um, survived.”
“Not many, eight. Vi, and Rona and Kennedy all survived. They got the most training. Actually, I could use another teacher, you know, fighting skills, insider vampire knowledge…interested?’
“I am, but…”
“But?”
“I think I’m needed here. In LA.”
He sounds kind of surprised.
“Why?”
Damn it I need you here!!!
“I think your old beau has got himself into a spot of bother.”
“You mean Angel and this whole deal with Wolfram and Hart?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s he doing there anyway? Giles says it’s like…organised evil incorporated.”
“As usual, Rupert’s not far wrong. I have no idea why the great deluded one decided to branch out into the law. Not like he’d tell me anything.”
“Yet you want to help him?”
“He’s got good people. His team. Good, deluded people. Think they can fight evil from within or some such rot. I’m thinking that things are gonna go pear shaped any minute now and then, I don’t know, maybe I can help.”
“You’d work for Angel?”
“I don’t work for him! I help out when it suites
“And how’s that going?”
“Slowly.”
“How come you didn’t call sooner?”
‘Well, ghost – couldn’t pick up the phone.”
“Then?”
Long Pause….
“Told the little boy, Andrew, I’d take care of it………I was…nervous.”
“About talking to me?” She’s pretty incredulous. This is, after all, the guy who admitted he loved her even though he knew she despised him, hell, he chained her up for goodness sake, just so she’d listen to him!
“Well, Yeah.” He’s defensive. “You know, I die this great, noble death, better than anything I ever deserved and then wham bam, 19 days later, I’m back. Last place I want to be. So, now it all means nothing.”
“How can you say that?”
Spike doesn’t answer.
“I died. I came back. Did that diminish my sacrifice?”
“No, but that’s different. You shouldn’t have died, you are…good. I was evil, I needed the redemption.”
“And you’ve still got it. You’re not diminished.”
“Thanks, good of you to say so.” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced.
“So, when are you coming to see m- us?”
She’s sure she can hear him smile. She knows that look. She knows he knows that she wants to see him. But he doesn’t tease her about it.
“I think it might be too dangerous. I mean you with your body doubles and being
Buffy’s pouty frown appeared.
“When did you acquire common sense?”
He’s not supposed to be the rational one! He’s supposed to be mad and impetuous.
“I think it came with the soul. Course, I don’t use it all the time but …”
“So you’re staying in LA., with Angel?”
“Not with! I have my own place. He lives in a posh penthouse. I live in a cruddy basement apartment. Some things never change”
“I have a castle and there’s always room for you.”
‘Thanks”
Buffy looks at the clock, god, they’ve been talking for ages. She’s supposed to be out with the girls. She’s needed. She doesn’t even have to tell him, he just knows.
“I’d better let you go, you must be busy. Just thought I’d say cheers.’
The tears fill her eyes again. The g-word is coming.
“I’m glad you did. Finally.”
There’s a pause, quite long. It’s not awkward though. They are comfortable with silence. They can almost hear each others thoughts. They are thinking the same things.
“Call me, if you need any… just call me."
“Okay.”
She gets his number. He has a cell phone. That in itself is completely weird, but she’ll be able to call him too.
“Well, alright…um…well… I…”
“No need to get mushy Slayer.” He’s laughing at her. She doesn’t mind “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Then the phone goes dead. He’s hung up first. Buffy sits at her desk feeling…what? Shell-shocked, elated, whole…all of the above? She wants to run and tell someone, tell everyone this incredible news.
Spike is alive!
She gets up and is halfway to the door when she freezes. She anticipates the reactions. Willow’s look of ill-comprehension, Dawn’s of distrust, Xander, well he thought they’d finally managed to get rid of the guy so, there was no way he’d share her happiness.
Deflated.
She could ring Giles but he would be no more pleased than Xander. None of them understood her and Spike – they just didn’t get it. But she is so happy and the last thing she wants is to see disgust or false platitudes etched on their faces and in their voices…
She almost wants to pick up the phone and call Spike, share the good news with the one person who’ll appreciate it. But that would be ridiculous. Utterly….
Yet it’s tempting.
And then she remembers Andrew. The little runt knew about Spike and didn’t tell her! Audacious. But he kept the secret because Spike had asked him to. The girls could wait a few more minutes, couldn’t they? Buffy smiles and picks up the phone, dialling the number for their Italian contingent. First she’ll tear strips off him, second she’ll remind him who is boss and then, finally…finally, she’ll be able to share her joy with someone who’ll understand.
The End
I wanted to write my impression of Buffy and Spike’s first face to face meeting before it is dealt with in the comic to fit it in with my own theory and just to compare it with what will become canon. This story takes place between Shells (A5.16) and Underneath (A5.17). Same disclaimer as above.
Errand boy?
Errand boy indeed!
Spike was affronted; still irritated by Angel’s parting shot. He was nobody’s errand boy, least of all Angels….
Uh, well, he was, technically. But only on his own terms!
“Spike will do it,” Angel had barked
“Spike bloody well will not!” he’d countered
But then, he’d heard that the destination was good old
Why the change of heart Angel had queried.
God, he can’t win! Not happy when he wouldn’t do it, not happy when he says he will, and besides, the Old Dart is home after all, so why shouldn’t he be happy to pay it a visit, nothing odd about that, nothing at all and they didn’t get to do anything when they were there recently either and he’ll take any excuse to get out of LA, even if only for a few days!
And the excuses were genuine, on one level. He really, really hated
Once in the Motherland he’d completed his errand with efficient speed, reported as much to Angel then encouraged his Wolfram & Hart pilot to seek amusement in the seedy side of
And now, he found himself travelling north in a half-empty freight carriage, a far cry from the luxury jet he’d arrived in. Not to mention the vehicle Wolfram and Hart’s
After hours of not very satisfactory sleep and boredom he can smell the sunset. He opens the heavy sliding door of the freight cart a fraction and knows he’s nearly there. Towns and villages have given way to a craggy mauve landscape. He can’t help but think that isn’t that typical, a plan of his goes absolutely perfect and there’s not a soul to witness it! A couple of kilometres rattle by as he stands smoking leaning against the open door frame. Then he sees a particular landmark, flicks his cigarette out of the speeding train before bodily following suit.
He lands cleanly and pulls his coat close around him, flipping the collar up against the chill, not that he feels the cold, it’s just an instinctual reaction to the dank coolness of the Scottish evening. It’s been a while since he was in this part of the world, not since the
He picks up a familiar scent on the evening breeze. A scent he knows well. Its feint but trackable. He follows it. It’s instinctive.
******************
Buffy patrolled the cemetery alone. Highly unlikely that there’d be any vampire activity, this place hadn’t seen a new grave in a couple of hundred years. It was bitterly cold too. She couldn’t really complain though, after all, she was the moron who’d volunteered for the solo mission. Giles had wanted to send a small team of girls, but nnnnoooo, Buffy had said she’d deal - more fool Buffy.
Trouble was, the castle was crawling with girls all vying for her attention, Xander amongst them exercising his witty charm, Dawn was complaining about the cold. Again.
Alone?
The cemetery was, excuse the pun, deathly quiet. She didn’t mind. It was good to escape the over-crowded confines of the castle. Being commander-in-chief of a population of Slayers was amazing and rewarding and amazing and…intense. She felt like she was on duty twenty-four seven. Kind of ironic that patrolling by herself was like an escape. She rounded a corner and came across a vampire digging up an ancient grave site.
“Now that’s hardly in the spirit of Rest in Peace is it?”
The vampire turned quickly, startled to be interrupted. He lunged at her with ferocity. This was just what Buffy needed, a spot of violence before bed.
She could have staked him quick. Her opponent, besides being really ugly was not much of a fighter. Instead she deliberately prolonged the battle, punching and kicking just to give herself a practical workout. When he managed to get a lucky hit that sent her stake flying out of reach she punished him by sending an angry elbow into his nose.
Suddenly, in her peripheral vision she saw another figure. Great, a second vampire and she without her stake! She punched the unsightly vampire sending him flying backwards then turned to look at the new arrival who smiled wolfishly and said,
“Hello gorgeous.”
Buffy froze momentarily, stunned, allowing the original vampire to connect a fluky fist to her chin, causing her to stumbling sideways in an ungainly fashion.
Buffy recovered quickly and engaged the hideous demon in a series of pummelling blows.
“Can I help?” the new arrival inquired
“Stake!” Buffy motioned, pointing in the direction in which the pointed wooden stick had flew earlier then hoisted her opponent by his silken lapel and subjected his face to a series of harsh, blinding strikes with her balled fist. Suddenly he turned to dust in her hands to reveal, standing before her brandishing the stake in his hand,
Spike
Buffy smiled. “Hello gorgeous,” then reached for him.
The kiss lasted a tad longer than ‘hello’ and may or may not have involved a bit of tongue. Neither complained.
the end
Written by tranquillity: 21/04/07