FIC: Seraph (2/?)
Jan. 29th, 2009 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snick_backupStory begins here. All parts may be found here.
~~~~~
Spike couldn’t say, even to himself, exactly why he’d come to the Watcher’s. Curiosity, he supposed. A whim. It took all the fun out of killing if you didn’t know what you were killing until you’d already done the deed.
He waited until the Scoobies had wandered resolutely off to whatever riotous kiddy fun was on schedule for the night. Buffy was the last, but finally she left, too, stake in hand, heading towards the nearest cemetary. Spike edged from behind his oak and marched himself across the street. Of the whole sodding lot of them, there was only one he’d have been less thrilled to explain this to than Giles.
The door was actually locked, for once. Spike banged on it. “Oi, Watcher! Need to talk to you.” His vamp hearing picked up a shuffle coming down the stairs, and he gave the door another couple good raps for emphasis.
“Buffy, you needn’t break the-- Spike.” Giles eyed him with aggressive disinterest.
“The Spike’s not broken, but thanks for caring.” Spike slipped inside before Giles could block him. “Need a favor.”
Giles sighed heavily and closed the door behind him. “Another tracking device removed? The use of my couch? My best scotch? I’m afraid the Giles Center for Useless Wastrels closes at sundown.”
“That’s discrimination,” Spike said. He shucked the duster over the back of the couch and headed into the kitchen, because being still would mean talking. “Don’t have any blood left over, do you?”
“You’re interrupting my bedtime so that you can raid my refrigerator.”
“Fridge is a bonus.” Aha. There it was, one last bag. Good thing; just thinking about it had made him hungry again.
Giles stood at the kitchen doorway. “Either state your purpose or leave.”
“Right.” Spike edged past Giles. “Mind if I sit down?” He dropped onto the couch and tore open the bag with a fang. Cold, but he didn’t care just then.
“What I mind is that you are in my flat. Your location herein is secondary.” The disinterest had yielded to an active glare.
“Told you, need a favor.” The blood was disgusting stuff, all cold and syrupy going down his throat, and he still couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Which I shall greatly enjoy refusing you as soon as you tell me what it is.”
Spike squeezed the last few globules from the bag and shook out of vamp face. “Look, I need a spell, all right? Something to tell humans from demons.”
Giles gave a not entirely dignified snort. “You needn’t a spell for that, Spike. I can assure you you are wholly demon.”
“Not for me.” Was there any way of putting this that wasn’t sodding humiliating?
But he’d finally managed to catch the Watcher’s attention. “Then who do you mean? Oh.” The interest faded. “You want to know if the chip will fire when you hit someone.”
“What? No.” Although that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, actually. “Something else.” Giles huffed in impatience, and Spike hastened, “Look, those lab blokes, right? They didn’t just shove a chip up my brain. They gave me a... parasite.”
“You have tapeworms.” Now Giles just looked revolted.
“No!” Spike leapt to his feet and saw Giles calculating the distance to the crossbow. “They gave me a baby!”
The look on the Watcher’s face was almost worth it, Spike reflected. Utter incredulity. Off came the glasses, out came the handkerchief. Wait for it...
“Good Lord.” There it was.
For the barest moment, Spike was enjoying himself.
“Are you certain?”
So much for that.
Spike slumped back onto the couch. “Saw the picture on the little black screen. Humanoid, the doc said, but he couldn’t be more specific. Said it was medicine and the mojo wouldn’t do me any good, but it seems to me you oughta at least be able to tell the species of the thing.”
“I-- yes, I imagine I could. You’re right, the division between demon and human is quite well defined...” His voice trailed off as he begun taking books from the nearest bookshelf. While Giles mumbled to himself Spike stared down at his knuckles. So Giles wasn’t Spike’s fuzzy authority blanket, the way he was the Slayer’s; he could still see the appeal of having someone to dump all the knottiest questions on. Any problem that couldn’t be killed: ‘Here, fix this,’ and it’d be fixed.
“Here it is.” Giles waved a book at him. “An incantation, a candle, I believe I have those herbs... Yes. Just a moment while I gather supplies.”
“Sure I’m not keeping you from beddy-bye?”
Giles looked over at him vaguely. “Certainly not. Easily done, it won’t take any time to prepare.” He wandered upstairs and a few moments later he was back, hands full with oddments he set on the coffee table. “This will be a bit more complicated since the creature in question is contained within another creature--that’s correct, isn’t it?” Giles glanced up, half-startled, as though suddenly certain he’d misheard.
“Yeah, that’s right. I need to strip?”
“No, that’s quite all right. A little plant fiber should make no difference. Although I should be very curious to examine you--” For the first time, Giles really looked at him, eyes searching.
Spike hunched against his gaze. “Not here to satisfy your curiosity.”
“Of course. Quite.” Giles turned back to his preparations. After a few more minutes’ puttering, he lit the candles, smeared a drop of the warmed wax on Spike’s forehead, and muttered a few words to himself that the room’s sudden static said were magick. Another minute, more words, the pungeant stink of burnt herbs, and then Giles held up the candle again. “As I hold the flame to your--ah, to your stomach--it is your stomach?”
“Yeah.”
“Then the flame should turn the color appropriate to the species of the--well. You understand.”
“I understand you’re wantin’ to hold the flame right next to the flammable vampire!”
“Oh, hush, I’m not going to light you on fire. Come, stand here so I can get the proper angle.”
Warily, Spike stood and edged towards Giles until he got the nod to stop, and then Giles held the candle a few inches from Spike and muttered a few last words. For a moment nothing happened, and then the flame spit sparks, flared a brilliant magenta, and snuffed out.
“Well,” was all Giles said.
Spike settled shakily back onto the sofa. “What’s the verdict? Demon, like dear old dad?”
Giles gave him a sharp look. “Human.” He shook his head, rose, and went to the cabinet where the decanter was hidden. He knocked back a finger for himself, and then filled his glass and another and handed the second to Spike. Finally Giles sat at the table, still shaking his head.
Human. Well, that answered the question, didn’t it? Not a face-sucker out of Alien--a bit of a relief, that was, despite what he’s seen on the screen. Not even some near-human thing with violet eyes or a forked tongue or a smidge of telepathy. Just human.
So now he knew.
“Those bloody idiots.”
Spike glanced up to see Giles glowering at his scotch.
“They entrusted the wellbeing of a human embryo to a vampire. Those interfering self-absorbed idiotic arses. What did they think they were doing, using a vampire as a surrogate? You’re violent, you have filthy living habits... It violates every principle of decency, all experience in nature. It’s criminally irresponsible. It’s an abomination.”
“The vampire’s not so pleased about it, either.” Spike slammed the untasted glass on the table and stood. “Just the chip was more than bloody enough, but this--”
“You’ll have it terminated, I assume.”
Spike stiffened against the Watcher’s hard gaze. “Know a bloke in L.A.”
“Of course.” A tight, humorless smile. “It will be the first human life you’ve ended in quite some time.”
“Yeah.” Spike snatched at his duster and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Appreciate the mojo. Got things to kill now.”
He stalked out the door and down the street, opposite the direction the Slayer had gone--he had no interest in meeting up with her just now. He’d try the cemetaries first; there’d been a rumor at Willy’s of a rising party at Woodridge tonight. If he couldn’t find enough violence there, well, he could always go give Willy some.
And then he’d call Steven Marie and confirm his appointment. ‘Abomination,’ right. He’d get this abomination bloody out of him.
next part
~~~~~
Spike couldn’t say, even to himself, exactly why he’d come to the Watcher’s. Curiosity, he supposed. A whim. It took all the fun out of killing if you didn’t know what you were killing until you’d already done the deed.
He waited until the Scoobies had wandered resolutely off to whatever riotous kiddy fun was on schedule for the night. Buffy was the last, but finally she left, too, stake in hand, heading towards the nearest cemetary. Spike edged from behind his oak and marched himself across the street. Of the whole sodding lot of them, there was only one he’d have been less thrilled to explain this to than Giles.
The door was actually locked, for once. Spike banged on it. “Oi, Watcher! Need to talk to you.” His vamp hearing picked up a shuffle coming down the stairs, and he gave the door another couple good raps for emphasis.
“Buffy, you needn’t break the-- Spike.” Giles eyed him with aggressive disinterest.
“The Spike’s not broken, but thanks for caring.” Spike slipped inside before Giles could block him. “Need a favor.”
Giles sighed heavily and closed the door behind him. “Another tracking device removed? The use of my couch? My best scotch? I’m afraid the Giles Center for Useless Wastrels closes at sundown.”
“That’s discrimination,” Spike said. He shucked the duster over the back of the couch and headed into the kitchen, because being still would mean talking. “Don’t have any blood left over, do you?”
“You’re interrupting my bedtime so that you can raid my refrigerator.”
“Fridge is a bonus.” Aha. There it was, one last bag. Good thing; just thinking about it had made him hungry again.
Giles stood at the kitchen doorway. “Either state your purpose or leave.”
“Right.” Spike edged past Giles. “Mind if I sit down?” He dropped onto the couch and tore open the bag with a fang. Cold, but he didn’t care just then.
“What I mind is that you are in my flat. Your location herein is secondary.” The disinterest had yielded to an active glare.
“Told you, need a favor.” The blood was disgusting stuff, all cold and syrupy going down his throat, and he still couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Which I shall greatly enjoy refusing you as soon as you tell me what it is.”
Spike squeezed the last few globules from the bag and shook out of vamp face. “Look, I need a spell, all right? Something to tell humans from demons.”
Giles gave a not entirely dignified snort. “You needn’t a spell for that, Spike. I can assure you you are wholly demon.”
“Not for me.” Was there any way of putting this that wasn’t sodding humiliating?
But he’d finally managed to catch the Watcher’s attention. “Then who do you mean? Oh.” The interest faded. “You want to know if the chip will fire when you hit someone.”
“What? No.” Although that didn’t sound like such a bad idea, actually. “Something else.” Giles huffed in impatience, and Spike hastened, “Look, those lab blokes, right? They didn’t just shove a chip up my brain. They gave me a... parasite.”
“You have tapeworms.” Now Giles just looked revolted.
“No!” Spike leapt to his feet and saw Giles calculating the distance to the crossbow. “They gave me a baby!”
The look on the Watcher’s face was almost worth it, Spike reflected. Utter incredulity. Off came the glasses, out came the handkerchief. Wait for it...
“Good Lord.” There it was.
For the barest moment, Spike was enjoying himself.
“Are you certain?”
So much for that.
Spike slumped back onto the couch. “Saw the picture on the little black screen. Humanoid, the doc said, but he couldn’t be more specific. Said it was medicine and the mojo wouldn’t do me any good, but it seems to me you oughta at least be able to tell the species of the thing.”
“I-- yes, I imagine I could. You’re right, the division between demon and human is quite well defined...” His voice trailed off as he begun taking books from the nearest bookshelf. While Giles mumbled to himself Spike stared down at his knuckles. So Giles wasn’t Spike’s fuzzy authority blanket, the way he was the Slayer’s; he could still see the appeal of having someone to dump all the knottiest questions on. Any problem that couldn’t be killed: ‘Here, fix this,’ and it’d be fixed.
“Here it is.” Giles waved a book at him. “An incantation, a candle, I believe I have those herbs... Yes. Just a moment while I gather supplies.”
“Sure I’m not keeping you from beddy-bye?”
Giles looked over at him vaguely. “Certainly not. Easily done, it won’t take any time to prepare.” He wandered upstairs and a few moments later he was back, hands full with oddments he set on the coffee table. “This will be a bit more complicated since the creature in question is contained within another creature--that’s correct, isn’t it?” Giles glanced up, half-startled, as though suddenly certain he’d misheard.
“Yeah, that’s right. I need to strip?”
“No, that’s quite all right. A little plant fiber should make no difference. Although I should be very curious to examine you--” For the first time, Giles really looked at him, eyes searching.
Spike hunched against his gaze. “Not here to satisfy your curiosity.”
“Of course. Quite.” Giles turned back to his preparations. After a few more minutes’ puttering, he lit the candles, smeared a drop of the warmed wax on Spike’s forehead, and muttered a few words to himself that the room’s sudden static said were magick. Another minute, more words, the pungeant stink of burnt herbs, and then Giles held up the candle again. “As I hold the flame to your--ah, to your stomach--it is your stomach?”
“Yeah.”
“Then the flame should turn the color appropriate to the species of the--well. You understand.”
“I understand you’re wantin’ to hold the flame right next to the flammable vampire!”
“Oh, hush, I’m not going to light you on fire. Come, stand here so I can get the proper angle.”
Warily, Spike stood and edged towards Giles until he got the nod to stop, and then Giles held the candle a few inches from Spike and muttered a few last words. For a moment nothing happened, and then the flame spit sparks, flared a brilliant magenta, and snuffed out.
“Well,” was all Giles said.
Spike settled shakily back onto the sofa. “What’s the verdict? Demon, like dear old dad?”
Giles gave him a sharp look. “Human.” He shook his head, rose, and went to the cabinet where the decanter was hidden. He knocked back a finger for himself, and then filled his glass and another and handed the second to Spike. Finally Giles sat at the table, still shaking his head.
Human. Well, that answered the question, didn’t it? Not a face-sucker out of Alien--a bit of a relief, that was, despite what he’s seen on the screen. Not even some near-human thing with violet eyes or a forked tongue or a smidge of telepathy. Just human.
So now he knew.
“Those bloody idiots.”
Spike glanced up to see Giles glowering at his scotch.
“They entrusted the wellbeing of a human embryo to a vampire. Those interfering self-absorbed idiotic arses. What did they think they were doing, using a vampire as a surrogate? You’re violent, you have filthy living habits... It violates every principle of decency, all experience in nature. It’s criminally irresponsible. It’s an abomination.”
“The vampire’s not so pleased about it, either.” Spike slammed the untasted glass on the table and stood. “Just the chip was more than bloody enough, but this--”
“You’ll have it terminated, I assume.”
Spike stiffened against the Watcher’s hard gaze. “Know a bloke in L.A.”
“Of course.” A tight, humorless smile. “It will be the first human life you’ve ended in quite some time.”
“Yeah.” Spike snatched at his duster and shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Appreciate the mojo. Got things to kill now.”
He stalked out the door and down the street, opposite the direction the Slayer had gone--he had no interest in meeting up with her just now. He’d try the cemetaries first; there’d been a rumor at Willy’s of a rising party at Woodridge tonight. If he couldn’t find enough violence there, well, he could always go give Willy some.
And then he’d call Steven Marie and confirm his appointment. ‘Abomination,’ right. He’d get this abomination bloody out of him.
next part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 11:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 11:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 01:49 am (UTC)“No!” Spike leapt to his feet and saw Giles calculating the distance to the crossbow. “They gave me a baby!”
The look on the Watcher’s face was almost worth it, Spike reflected. Utter incredulity. Off came the glasses, out came the handkerchief. Wait for it...
“Good Lord.” There it was.
I laughed so damn hard my stomach hurt for several minutes after.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 04:05 am (UTC)*devours*
I adore Giles' voice - The Giles home for Wastrels! HEEE!
*claps hands* But how accommodating he gets when there's something interesting! Really, every one of Giles' reactions felt spot-on and just delightful.
I can kind of feel Spike getting a little less... sure?
Few typos - "You have tapeworm" - dropped the "a"
"The didn’t just shove a chip up my brain." - should be "They"
no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 05:43 am (UTC)And thanks for the catching the typos!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 06:53 am (UTC)How great that Giles' hostility can be overcome by intellectual curiosity!
Very nice!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 09:22 am (UTC)Aww, spike and Giles. You got both of their oices down pretty well and this story seems to be very wonderful. I am just only worrying bit about if Spike is really gonna terminate the baby, or no. Please continue soon!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-30 12:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-31 01:01 am (UTC)Tee hee. I'll take that blame, thank you! I think there'll be another update next week sometime. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-31 01:03 am (UTC)He has no idea what he's in for. :p
How great that Giles' hostility can be overcome by intellectual curiosity!
Hee! Yes, ask him about the magical doohickey and you have his full attention.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-31 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-03 06:28 am (UTC)You do not disappoint.
Love Giles here as well. His attitude is always comically droll. Awaiting more.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 02:35 am (UTC)But now I really want to know: what was the other mpreg you liked? There are darn few in the Buffyverse that I can stand, either.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 10:20 pm (UTC)“The vampire’s not so pleased about it, either.” It's no wonder Spike needs a spot of violence, he's been pushed around an awful lot in the past several months.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-11 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:20 pm (UTC)Loved the dialogue between Giles and Spike.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 04:53 am (UTC)Glad you enjoyed. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-13 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-13 06:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-02 09:57 pm (UTC)Looking very much forward to more. Which I will try to postpone for at least a few hours so that I don't spam you. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 12:38 am (UTC)I kind of don't think the Initiative answers to an ethics committee. *g*
Looking very much forward to more. Which I will try to postpone for at least a few hours so that I don't spam you. :)
Hey, all such
spamfic-comments whole-heartedly appreciated here. :)I have wondered, though, if you don't feel a little overwhelmed with the comments on your big batches of Spaiku, especially since you post them all at once like that.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 02:21 am (UTC)Well, that was possibly way more information than you wanted, but I'm so rarely asked anything Spaiku-related that I spazzed. *g*
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 04:34 am (UTC)Hooray! I heartily approve of this plan.
Well, that was possibly way more information than you wanted, but I'm so rarely asked anything Spaiku-related that I spazzed. *g*
Nope, not way more. Exactly the right amount. :) Although I dunno why you don't get asked about Spaiku more often.
Incidentally, do you suppose you might put all of the Intervention pieces up in one post on your LJ like you did with Crushed? I'd like to save the whole batch to my hard drive, but I'm a lazy bum and would rather not go through sixteen individual posts if I don't have to. (That is, if you don't mind me saving them to my hard drive...)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 07:58 pm (UTC)Oh, I'll definitely post the Intervention stuff in my LJ. Soon! I was just waiting a decent interval after this round to bring 'em home, and then it slipped my mind. By all means, please save away! I'm flattered to bits that you'd want to keep them.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 05:43 am (UTC)Oh, thbbpt. "Cred"? This is fandom - we're all mad here. *g*
Besides, it seems to me that media fandom actually provides a singularly flexible outlet for creative expression. We all love the same thing - Buffy - and so there's plenty of interest for whatever sort of thing you do: haiku, doll!fic, action figure customization, graphic manipulation, vidding, SPAM sculpture... As long as it's Buffy and you can put it online somehow, there'll be an audience, which is more than can be said for a lot of creative endeavors. At least, that's how it appears to me.
All of which is to say, strange and unusual expressions of Buffy-love FTW!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-05 06:56 pm (UTC)And yes, you're absolutely right. I love that this fandom is such a big tent. I hadn't felt moved to do any creative writing in, oh, twenty years until I stumbled upon LJ, but people are so encouraging that there seemed to be no reason not to bring a little something to the Buffy buffet.
Now I'm going to go think about SPAM some more. ;)
FIC: Seraph (2/?)
Date: 2009-12-19 09:08 pm (UTC);)
Re: FIC: Seraph (2/?)
Date: 2009-12-24 01:04 am (UTC)Heh. So true. :)