Conversations About Dead People, Ch.25
Jul. 26th, 2011 02:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caty_didthis turned more into a Xander centric piece with Xander/Anya undertones, but I think there’s still a fair amount of Spuffy discussed. As for Molly, she seems to change her tune pretty quickly but she is, after all, fourteen. And if I remember correctly, Fourteen-year-old girls are suckers for romance ;).
Set during Bring on the Night.
Sunnydale, 2002
Xander wandered through Buffy’s house doing a quick mental checklist of his people and their whereabouts.
Anya? Crashed on the couch, despite her loudly declared intentions to return to her apartment and leave the fate of the world with people who actually cared. Buffy? Out with Giles searching for the ultimate evils Lair of Doom, which may or may not be under a Christmas tree lot. Willow? Upstairs, possibly asleep but probably worrying about The First turning her black-eyed and terrifying again. Dawn? Upstairs asleep. Spike? Either out on a triggered killing spree, or squirreled away in the Lair of Doomy Badness. Andrew? Tied to his chair in the living room where he could harm no one and annoy everyone. Potential Slayers? He was pretty sure one was with Willow and the other two were making use of Buffy’s room while she was gone.
As for Xander himself, he was going to make sure all the pizza boxes had been thrown out, grab a quick drink of water, and then try to catch an hour or two of sleep on the living room floor before he had to get up for work.
He shuffled into the kitchen and had just grabbed a glass from the cabinet when he caught sight of a person sitting at the island, and let out a considerably unmanly squeal.
The other person giggled and Xander reached for the light switch.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The light revealed her to be one of the Potentials. Molly maybe?
“It’s fine. Why are you sitting all alone in the dark anyway?”
Molly indicated the glass of milk in front of her. “Couldn’t sleep. It’s the bleeding jet lag! I’m wide awake now, but in the middle of the afternoon I’ll be totally knackered!”
Xander chuckled as he turned back toward the sink.
“What?”
“Ah, it’s nothing. You just talk kind of like Spike. It’s funny.”
Molly looked at him quizzically. “Who is Spike? I know he’s missing and Buffy wants to find him, but who is he exactly?”
Who’s Spike? The question stopped Xander dead. Because Spike? Spike may be a lot of things but unknown wasn’t one of them. He knew, of course, that there were plenty of people who didn’t know a damn thing about Spike. Xander envied them. But the idea of someone who knew about vampires and demons and slayers and watchers, the idea of someone who was sitting in this kitchen in this house, the idea of someone who knew about Buffy, but didn’t know about Spike threw him for a complete loop.
“Um. Xander?”
Molly was starting to look at him in concern so Xander shook himself and tried to think of the best way to answer her question.
“Spike is…an ally, I guess. He helps us out when the big scary comes to town. So Buffy wants to find him so he can, y’know, help fight.”
There. That was pretty much the truth, without getting into the more complicated emotional possibilities.
“So he’s good?”
Xander shrugged. “You mean as a fighter? Or morally?”
Molly’s face clouded with confusion. “As a fighter. I sort of assumed anyone the Slayer cared that much about saving was morally sound.”
Instead of responding, Xander took a long drink of water. He was so not the person to be having this conversation. Buffy would be better, but Buffy wasn’t around, and she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming earlier anyway. He understood though, why she didn’t mention Spike was a vampire. These girls were young and idealistic and it was probably a good idea to ease them into the whole grey area component of Slaying. But Molly was staring at him all wide-eyed and he remembered that she was in this fight too. Evil was coming and these girls didn’t have the luxury of years to learn all the hard lessons that came with the gig. Lessons he was still learning.
“Here’s the thing Molly. Spike, he’s- well he’s a vampire.”
Molly’s eyebrows got lost somewhere in the vicinity of her hairline. “Like the kind we’re destined to rid the world of?”
Xander sighed. “Yeah. That kind. But he’s different. Sort of. He changed. He’s good now.”
“You’re mad. Demons can’t change.”
Xander scrubbed a hand across his face.
Things change.
Not us. Not demons
This might actually qualify as funny at a more reasonable hour of day.
“I know it sounds pretty unbelievable, but sometimes it happens. Even demons, or some demons, have hearts and brains and-“
This is my wish. Undo what I did.
“-Sometimes things happen to make them want to change. And the strong ones can.”
“So Spike’s one of the strong ones?” Her voice tore Xander away from his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Spike? The supposedly good vampire? We were talking about Spike?”
Xander blinked. “Yeah. We were. Plus, he got himself all magicked up with a soul.”
“And souls make vampires good?”
“In theory.”
For a moment Molly looked like she was going to let the subject drop and let Xander actually get some sleep, but then she cocked her head to the side and frowned.
“What made him want to change?”
Damn. Nosy teenagers were officially on the list of bad things evil hath wrought. Xander considered his options. Try and explain government programs and chips or try to explain Spike’s personal attachments to Buffy.
“See, there was this military operation. And they put a chip in Spike’s head that makes it so he can’t hurt people. But he can still hurt demons. So a few years ago we started hiring him to help us out occasionally, and I guess working with the Slayer that closely for that long…she sort of…rubbed off on him.”
Xander cringed as he thought about just how much rubbing off Buffy had probably done.
Molly stared blankly at him for a second and then her face lit up. “Oh my God. He likes her!”
“Well I wouldn’t say likes…”
“Oh yes he does so! That’s why he wanted to change! Holy crap! That’s why she’s so frantic isn’t it? She likes him too!”
“Molly it’s not like that. She- He- Shit. Don’t tell okay? It’s sort of…personal. And very possibly not even true. Anymore And Buffy will kill me.”
“I won’t breathe a word. A vampire who changes for a Slayer. It’s rather romantic isn’t it?”
“No! Molly, if you only take one thing away from this conversation, let it be this: when demons and humans get involved, it doesn’t end well. People get hurt. They can get very hurt. And not just emotionally. Understand? It’s not a good idea.”
Molly’s eyes are twinkling. “Yeah, yeah. Only if they’re good officer.”
Xander’s opening his mouth to clarify, no. Not if they’re good, or soul-having, or even human, but Molly’s already skittered out of the kitchen throwing a grin over her shoulder.
So instead he shuffled off toward the living room thinking about the dozens of better ways to bring up that particular career risk.
His eyes fell first on the hostage who had thankfully fallen asleep in his chair, then to the unappealing floor, and finally to the comfortable looking couch currently occupied by his own personal cautionary tale.
He knelt and shook her gently by the shoulder.
Anya stirred but didn’t open her eyes. “My couch. Go ‘way Xander.”
“I know. I was wondering if you’d consider sharing?”
She cracked one eyelid and regarded him. “Unh-uh. We worked quite well together today, but this candy store is still closed.”
Xander smiled at her. “Please Anya? I have to get up in, like, an hour and a half, and the floor is really hard, and I accidentally told an impressionable fourteen year old that under the right conditions it’s okay to bone a vampire.”
Anya sat up. “You did?”
“I may have, a little bit, yes.”
She pulled up her blanket, her mouth quirking. “We can do head to foot.”
Set during Bring on the Night.
Sunnydale, 2002
Xander wandered through Buffy’s house doing a quick mental checklist of his people and their whereabouts.
Anya? Crashed on the couch, despite her loudly declared intentions to return to her apartment and leave the fate of the world with people who actually cared. Buffy? Out with Giles searching for the ultimate evils Lair of Doom, which may or may not be under a Christmas tree lot. Willow? Upstairs, possibly asleep but probably worrying about The First turning her black-eyed and terrifying again. Dawn? Upstairs asleep. Spike? Either out on a triggered killing spree, or squirreled away in the Lair of Doomy Badness. Andrew? Tied to his chair in the living room where he could harm no one and annoy everyone. Potential Slayers? He was pretty sure one was with Willow and the other two were making use of Buffy’s room while she was gone.
As for Xander himself, he was going to make sure all the pizza boxes had been thrown out, grab a quick drink of water, and then try to catch an hour or two of sleep on the living room floor before he had to get up for work.
He shuffled into the kitchen and had just grabbed a glass from the cabinet when he caught sight of a person sitting at the island, and let out a considerably unmanly squeal.
The other person giggled and Xander reached for the light switch.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The light revealed her to be one of the Potentials. Molly maybe?
“It’s fine. Why are you sitting all alone in the dark anyway?”
Molly indicated the glass of milk in front of her. “Couldn’t sleep. It’s the bleeding jet lag! I’m wide awake now, but in the middle of the afternoon I’ll be totally knackered!”
Xander chuckled as he turned back toward the sink.
“What?”
“Ah, it’s nothing. You just talk kind of like Spike. It’s funny.”
Molly looked at him quizzically. “Who is Spike? I know he’s missing and Buffy wants to find him, but who is he exactly?”
Who’s Spike? The question stopped Xander dead. Because Spike? Spike may be a lot of things but unknown wasn’t one of them. He knew, of course, that there were plenty of people who didn’t know a damn thing about Spike. Xander envied them. But the idea of someone who knew about vampires and demons and slayers and watchers, the idea of someone who was sitting in this kitchen in this house, the idea of someone who knew about Buffy, but didn’t know about Spike threw him for a complete loop.
“Um. Xander?”
Molly was starting to look at him in concern so Xander shook himself and tried to think of the best way to answer her question.
“Spike is…an ally, I guess. He helps us out when the big scary comes to town. So Buffy wants to find him so he can, y’know, help fight.”
There. That was pretty much the truth, without getting into the more complicated emotional possibilities.
“So he’s good?”
Xander shrugged. “You mean as a fighter? Or morally?”
Molly’s face clouded with confusion. “As a fighter. I sort of assumed anyone the Slayer cared that much about saving was morally sound.”
Instead of responding, Xander took a long drink of water. He was so not the person to be having this conversation. Buffy would be better, but Buffy wasn’t around, and she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming earlier anyway. He understood though, why she didn’t mention Spike was a vampire. These girls were young and idealistic and it was probably a good idea to ease them into the whole grey area component of Slaying. But Molly was staring at him all wide-eyed and he remembered that she was in this fight too. Evil was coming and these girls didn’t have the luxury of years to learn all the hard lessons that came with the gig. Lessons he was still learning.
“Here’s the thing Molly. Spike, he’s- well he’s a vampire.”
Molly’s eyebrows got lost somewhere in the vicinity of her hairline. “Like the kind we’re destined to rid the world of?”
Xander sighed. “Yeah. That kind. But he’s different. Sort of. He changed. He’s good now.”
“You’re mad. Demons can’t change.”
Xander scrubbed a hand across his face.
Things change.
Not us. Not demons
This might actually qualify as funny at a more reasonable hour of day.
“I know it sounds pretty unbelievable, but sometimes it happens. Even demons, or some demons, have hearts and brains and-“
This is my wish. Undo what I did.
“-Sometimes things happen to make them want to change. And the strong ones can.”
“So Spike’s one of the strong ones?” Her voice tore Xander away from his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Spike? The supposedly good vampire? We were talking about Spike?”
Xander blinked. “Yeah. We were. Plus, he got himself all magicked up with a soul.”
“And souls make vampires good?”
“In theory.”
For a moment Molly looked like she was going to let the subject drop and let Xander actually get some sleep, but then she cocked her head to the side and frowned.
“What made him want to change?”
Damn. Nosy teenagers were officially on the list of bad things evil hath wrought. Xander considered his options. Try and explain government programs and chips or try to explain Spike’s personal attachments to Buffy.
“See, there was this military operation. And they put a chip in Spike’s head that makes it so he can’t hurt people. But he can still hurt demons. So a few years ago we started hiring him to help us out occasionally, and I guess working with the Slayer that closely for that long…she sort of…rubbed off on him.”
Xander cringed as he thought about just how much rubbing off Buffy had probably done.
Molly stared blankly at him for a second and then her face lit up. “Oh my God. He likes her!”
“Well I wouldn’t say likes…”
“Oh yes he does so! That’s why he wanted to change! Holy crap! That’s why she’s so frantic isn’t it? She likes him too!”
“Molly it’s not like that. She- He- Shit. Don’t tell okay? It’s sort of…personal. And very possibly not even true. Anymore And Buffy will kill me.”
“I won’t breathe a word. A vampire who changes for a Slayer. It’s rather romantic isn’t it?”
“No! Molly, if you only take one thing away from this conversation, let it be this: when demons and humans get involved, it doesn’t end well. People get hurt. They can get very hurt. And not just emotionally. Understand? It’s not a good idea.”
Molly’s eyes are twinkling. “Yeah, yeah. Only if they’re good officer.”
Xander’s opening his mouth to clarify, no. Not if they’re good, or soul-having, or even human, but Molly’s already skittered out of the kitchen throwing a grin over her shoulder.
So instead he shuffled off toward the living room thinking about the dozens of better ways to bring up that particular career risk.
His eyes fell first on the hostage who had thankfully fallen asleep in his chair, then to the unappealing floor, and finally to the comfortable looking couch currently occupied by his own personal cautionary tale.
He knelt and shook her gently by the shoulder.
Anya stirred but didn’t open her eyes. “My couch. Go ‘way Xander.”
“I know. I was wondering if you’d consider sharing?”
She cracked one eyelid and regarded him. “Unh-uh. We worked quite well together today, but this candy store is still closed.”
Xander smiled at her. “Please Anya? I have to get up in, like, an hour and a half, and the floor is really hard, and I accidentally told an impressionable fourteen year old that under the right conditions it’s okay to bone a vampire.”
Anya sat up. “You did?”
“I may have, a little bit, yes.”
She pulled up her blanket, her mouth quirking. “We can do head to foot.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-07-29 02:12 am (UTC)and I accidentally told an impressionable fourteen year old that under the right conditions it’s okay to bone a vampire
I really like this. Xander wandering through the sleeping house, and then confronting some of his older prejudice.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-29 02:42 am (UTC)