Categories > TV > Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Unrequited
0 reviewsUnder that crusty vampire exterior lies a poet's heart. Set in mid-BtVS S5.
2Moving
Setting: BtVS, mid-S5
Rating: Schmoop
Disclaimer: Joss likes fanfic. He said so.
For my sekrit LJ Valentine.
~*~
February nights were cold. If he had body heat to lose, he might have been shivering. As he didn't, however, he was indifferent to it and able to loiter under the tree for hours at a time without discomfort.
Lighting another cigarette, he shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. Was she ever coming out? She was the Slayer, for Christ's sake - duty called. Who knew what manner of evil lurked in the shadows, needing to be slain? Well, he knew. Inasmuch as he was evil and, currently, the one doing the lurking. Not that he intended any particular malevolence tonight. He just wanted to see her. Watch her as she patrolled. She was beautiful when she fought, all strength and power and lissom grace. Her hair would glint in the moonlight and her eyes would spark with danger when she confronted her prey. He loved to watch her dance.
Upstairs, the rectangle of her bedroom window suddenly filled with light and someone entered the room. He paused in mid-drag, hope swelling within him as a figure came into view.
Riley. Of course it was Riley. Spike exhaled sharply, scowling, and flung his cigarette to the ground. He heard the faint sound of girlish laughter and then Buffy appeared next to him. She put her hands on Riley's chest and leaned in for a long and lingering kiss. Spike's heart twisted as he watched. There'd be no patrol tonight.
Bugger this.
Let some other poor sod hang about under her window, some other pathetic, pining sap. He'd had enough. Enough of waiting for a look he'd never see, a touch he'd never feel. Who was she, anyway? Just a girl. He'd leave her to Captain Cardboard, he was all that she deserved. His fists clenched in frustration and he spun around to head back to his crypt, and maybe find something along the way that he could punch and kick and hurt.
Except, at that moment, as he shot a final glare upwards, he saw that Riley had disappeared and Buffy had turned to face the window. She began brushing her hair, each sweep of her hand loosing a cascade of shimmering golden waves over her shoulder. The lamp in her room illumined her fine features and framed her in honeyed warmth. Spike froze, transfixed by the sight of her. His posture softened and his head tipped to one side as he stood, entranced, as rooted to the spot as the tree behind him.
Words flowed into his mind, unbidden. Words nearly forgotten, written a century ago for someone who'd captivated him as much as she. His lips moved in silent recitation. But soft...behold! A sunlight beam, cutting a swath of glimmering gleam. My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in't,
Inspired by your beauty effulgent.
God, how he loved her.
Rating: Schmoop
Disclaimer: Joss likes fanfic. He said so.
For my sekrit LJ Valentine.
~*~
February nights were cold. If he had body heat to lose, he might have been shivering. As he didn't, however, he was indifferent to it and able to loiter under the tree for hours at a time without discomfort.
Lighting another cigarette, he shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. Was she ever coming out? She was the Slayer, for Christ's sake - duty called. Who knew what manner of evil lurked in the shadows, needing to be slain? Well, he knew. Inasmuch as he was evil and, currently, the one doing the lurking. Not that he intended any particular malevolence tonight. He just wanted to see her. Watch her as she patrolled. She was beautiful when she fought, all strength and power and lissom grace. Her hair would glint in the moonlight and her eyes would spark with danger when she confronted her prey. He loved to watch her dance.
Upstairs, the rectangle of her bedroom window suddenly filled with light and someone entered the room. He paused in mid-drag, hope swelling within him as a figure came into view.
Riley. Of course it was Riley. Spike exhaled sharply, scowling, and flung his cigarette to the ground. He heard the faint sound of girlish laughter and then Buffy appeared next to him. She put her hands on Riley's chest and leaned in for a long and lingering kiss. Spike's heart twisted as he watched. There'd be no patrol tonight.
Bugger this.
Let some other poor sod hang about under her window, some other pathetic, pining sap. He'd had enough. Enough of waiting for a look he'd never see, a touch he'd never feel. Who was she, anyway? Just a girl. He'd leave her to Captain Cardboard, he was all that she deserved. His fists clenched in frustration and he spun around to head back to his crypt, and maybe find something along the way that he could punch and kick and hurt.
Except, at that moment, as he shot a final glare upwards, he saw that Riley had disappeared and Buffy had turned to face the window. She began brushing her hair, each sweep of her hand loosing a cascade of shimmering golden waves over her shoulder. The lamp in her room illumined her fine features and framed her in honeyed warmth. Spike froze, transfixed by the sight of her. His posture softened and his head tipped to one side as he stood, entranced, as rooted to the spot as the tree behind him.
Words flowed into his mind, unbidden. Words nearly forgotten, written a century ago for someone who'd captivated him as much as she. His lips moved in silent recitation. But soft...behold! A sunlight beam, cutting a swath of glimmering gleam. My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in't,
Inspired by your beauty effulgent.
God, how he loved her.
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