Nothing
Disclaimer: For legal purposes, Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt and
the rest of their posse own the characters from the show Buffy the Vampire
Slayer and Angel the Series. BUT IN ALL OTHER WAYS THAT ARE MUCH MORE
IMPORTANT- Buffy owns Angel and Angel owns Buffy. Always and forever.
Feedback: Hey, if not for me- then for all the terrific
Sarah/David and B/A fanfiction writers out there. You are the brave- who fight
to keep the hope alive! And even these dark times, we need to FIGHT!
Dedication: To Sara-Lee, she always helps me with these! Hope it
makes you all happy. Don’t forget your faith- BASD FOREVER!!!! To the B/A
posters at the Babble Board, (especially Khymera, some of her words I used) I
share your thoughts and hope this gives you hope. And most importantly-to all
the BAers! We are strong together and we will get our day!
Distribution: Wow? You actually want this? Well email me and I'll
give it you on a silver platter.
Rating: I’ll say the
darker side of R, because of the language and innuendo. Darn the writers and
B/S for having to make me use stronger language!
Background: This takes place after Buffy Season Six’s SMASHED.
Yes, right after the unmentionable happens. There is not enough YUCK! In the
world…
Tonight had been a
good night, as far as he was concerned.
The Slayer lay
unconscious, crumpled on the floor. Her skirt was torn, her face bloodied...
Looking just so.
A damn good time of
a night, he smirked.
"You would
think that," a familiar voice said to Spike from the shadows. "And
yet, you know... Deep down, its not."
"Angel,"
Spike shot back in a condescending tone. "You damn ponce!
Oh this is right
near Christmas! Come to see how much I made your little Buffy come?"
The dark coated
figure passed Spike who now stood shirtless before him, "I figured you be
too stupid to really get it."
"Oh I tell you
what I got," Spike growled, meeting his grandsire head on. "Look at
'er. Screwed 'til she couldn't keep up with me anymore! And she was the one who
kissed me first! Didn't force her to do anything- she pulled me out... And I
gave her what she wanted. Rode her till-"
"You can't
gloat over something you haven't got," Angel cut him off, quickly moving
over to Buffy.
"Well let’s
see... Where to begin? You know there were so many lit' special moments
tonight. The way she screamed out my name when I took her... No, maybe it was
when she ripped off my shirt-"
"And how
exactly did you take Buffy," Angel asked as he tended to her, noticing
Buffy was still fully clothed. "She didn't even let you undress her."
Spike just grinned
as he looked for his torn shirt, "Well if you're so picky on the details,
I'll remember next time to strip her down before I do 'er. Might try me hand at
some ARTISTIC pics, after I bang her of course."
Angel snickered,
"Even if you could draw or get Buffy undressed, you wouldn't be able to
show me anything I haven't seen before... Honestly Spike, you could never see
the forest for the trees."
"And quite a
forest it is," Spike shot back. "It was good when my fingers-"
“You could stare at
her for hours… Days… Years even. And you couldn’t tell me anything I already
knew blindfolded miles away,” Angel steely injected. “You look, but you could
never see her.”
“Tonight was my
winning. Do you see her Angel? She BEGGED me and I gave it to her,” Spike said,
as if he had triumphed.
Angel deftly
interjected, "What, you think this was it? The big jackpot? Sorry to disa-
well no... I can’t say I’m sorry for the truth. Buffy gave you NOTHING tonight."
"Angel... I
never thought you were one for denial," Spike said glaring down at Angel's
hunched over frame.
"It's not
denial," Angel casually offered. "It’s a basic fact that any idiot
can see. You know, you must be some SPECIAL idiot then."
"Tsk, tsk. I
thought we were above name calling- with all that save a soul business,"
Spike chided, looking for a cigarette.
"This was
nothing," Angel said, trying to revive the girl. “Not making love. Not
sexual… It wasn’t even about raw need. This is something you'd flip past on the
Discovery Channel…"
Spike gave back a
self-satisfying smile, “I got meself plenty. There was the banging… Lots of
banging. And oh yeah- even some of the mushy kissing that comes wit’ all the
hearts and flowers.”
Angel bantered as he
tried to stop the bleeding, “Kisses? Any of them longer than two seconds? Oh no
wait, that's probably how long you lasted..."
"Look at
her," Spike proudly pointed. "She couldn't handle me."
"No one wants to 'handle' you Spike.
Besides, I know what you have to OFFER A WOMAN... You're the pebble trying to
tell me you filled up Lake Superior," he said, taking out another
handkerchief to clean away her blood.
Spike grimaced at
Angel's analogy, "Bloody hell, you don't need to get personal, mate. She
wanted me. I gave it ALL to her. She LOVES ME and I took ALL OF HER. Plan on
giving it to her again."
"Love?
Heh," Angel sneered, cradling Buffy's head in his arms. "That's your
fantasy Spike! The truth? This has nothing to do with love. Or anything else
that's remotely significant."
The platinum vampire
lit up his cigarette at the words, "She loves me. That's why she let me do
'er. Can't change that."
"Where's her
mole," Angel asked of him, trying to keep Buffy’s pulse steady.
Spike tried not to
make a show of it and shrugged puffing on his cigarette, "Don't know.
Don't care. She still let me take 'er."
The dark haired
vampire sardonically smiled at Spike's ignorance, "That's what I
thought."
"I don't care
where her stupid mole is," Spike maintained, but the thought had already
done its damage.
“Don’t fool yourself
Spike… You got nothing here today,” Angel said, seeing Spike’s knees lower as
the bleached vampire sat down on the wreckage.
Spike waved his fist
at Angel, hoping to flick some of its ashes to him, “I WANTED IT ALL AND I GOT
IT. BUFFY LOVES ME. You can’t deny it.”
From his place near
Buffy's side the elder vampire eerily asked, "Did she tell you that?
During any of the whole thing? Did she tell you that she loved you, weakling?“
“Shut up,” Spike
said wearily, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“You’re so eager to
give me the details,” Angel pushed, knowing he hit on the truth. “Did she?
Whisper “I love you”? Were her eyes open when your hormones got the best of
you? Because you couldn’t handle just a single second of her body?”
“That’s enough,”
Spike said, pulling Angel to his feet.
“Did she Spike,”
Angel pressed, throwing the facts at Spike’s face. “‘Cause I don’t see anything
manly or powerful about that.”
Spike flinging his
cigarette at Angel, but missed screaming, “I said shut up!”
But Angel hissed and
went on, “She gave herself to you Spike because she thinks she has nothing
left... You had to beat her up to get her to even touch you. Some kind of big
bad you are.”
Spike responded to his
comment by hurling Angel into a pile of rotting wood. Wishing on that far
chance Angel would get impaled and turn to dust. He crashed into the debris,
but Angel beamed as he stood up to continue.
“She only did this
with you because you badgered her. You took and she gave but she gave nothing…
Not herself. Not what makes her who she is.”
“You think you’re so
bloody smart! Do you,” Spike screamed throwing his grandsire a hard right jab
to his jaw. “I won! She’s mine! I HAVE IT ALL!”
“You got the part that
was full of anger and hate and nothing else. Even her body isn’t really Buffy
anymore... You got the empty shell,”
Angel affirmed, going over to Buffy.
Spike quickly delved
into the rumble and drew out a rotted wooden rafter, “She’s mine.”
“There is nothing
here for you anymore Spike,” Angel growled back. “Time for you to go. Or face
the consequences of touching the woman I love. The one I marked. My love.”
“Your love,” Spike
spat out, eyeing Angel’s chest.
“You’ve got
NOTHING,” he repeated over his shoulder, wanting to get Buffy out of there.
“And that little bit of nothing is all you are ever going to get. The truth is,
all she is- all she will ever be is mine. Like I am hers.”
Angel sensed Buffy’s
waking and began to make his way over to her. Seeing Angel make a move toward
Buffy, Spike shoved the older male from his path. The younger vampire ran over
to her, seeing Buffy stir.
“Slayer,” Spike
smugly mused, blocking off Buffy’s sight of vision to anything except himself.
“Are you up for another round then? Got more to give me, now?”
Buffy woke up and as
Spike blocked her she groaned, “God Spike, the only thing I’m going to give you
is a pointy end of a wooden stake.”
“Buffy,” Angel
called, running toward her once he heard Buffy speak.
“Angel,” she
beckoned back, trying to move Spike aside.
“Are you all right?
Do you feel dizzy,” Angel asked, rushing to her side.
“You damn straight
she does,” Spike answered for her, giving a truly cocky smile. “Probably won’t
be able to walk or move either, will you pet?”
Yet Buffy stood
straight and effortlessly walked to Angel. Spike’s face fell, watching as Buffy
easily moved to Angel. She quietly stood next to Angel, who held her and looked
her over.
“You never did have
a lot to offer a girl, Spike,” Buffy mumbled, as Angel helped straighten her
tangled hair and rumbled clothes.
“’ang on a bloody
minute,” Spike snarled, wooden beam still in hand. “Where do you think you’re
going?”
“Away from you… From
here,” she said making her way from the fray, willing to stand and walk alone.
“Buffy… Let me help
you,” Angel proffered, and Buffy accepted his hand.
Spike watched as the
two walked out of the abandoned house, but refused to let Buffy go. He ran
after them, waving the stake in the air.
“You’re mine! You
can pretend that this never happened- but it CHANGES EVERYTHING,” he protested,
grabbing her to make her listen.
Buffy whipped
around, as Spike roughly hung onto her. He held the impromptu stake at her
throat, threatening her with the wooden implement.
“You’d like me to
stick it in you good,” he snorted, angling the wood at her. “Like I did last
night.”
“No,” she said
grabbing the wooden object, piercing Spike’s gaze. “This changes NOTHING. You…You’re
still pathetic.”
Spike watched the
once hard beam he had carefully chosen, crumble in Buffy’s hands. The old
rotted wood reduced to dust from Buffy’s small powerful hands. He watched as
the dust flew from her hands and scattered to the wind.
“Goodbye,” Buffy said,
turning her back and walking with Angel out of the house.
And Spike was alone
in the crumbling house. Among the falling posts. The rats. Decay and death.
Alone… And with nothing.
THE END!