Conversations About Dead People, Ch.12
Feb. 12th, 2011 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
First chapter with Dawn! Otherwise known as the first time someone actually realizes what’s going on. It was a fun one to write. Especially the last couple of paragraphs. Takes place during Checkpoint.
Spike/Dawn
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Sunnydale, 2001
Spike sat cross-legged on top of his sarcophagus, painting his nails and surveying his surprise houseguests. Joyce was starting to doze off in front of the television and Dawn was-
“Boo.” Behind him. But he didn’t jump. Not at all. She hoisted herself up, and as he was turning to face her she grinned. “I scared you didn’t I? I rule.”
“Didn’t scare me. Just wasn’t expecting you to be over here. Thought you were watching the telly with your mum.”
She shrugged. “I was. But she’s asleep and the only thing on is the news. And it’s always the same; disappearances, weird deaths, unexplained crazies.” She faked a yawn. “Boring.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That so?” she just nodded. “And you decided what? Nothing worth watching so you’d come play ‘harass the vampire’?”
“Nah. Harassing you is Buffy’s deal. I just wanted to see if I could borrow some nail polish.”
She reached for it, but he slid away from her. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“What’s big sis going to think if she comes to fetch you, and I’ve let you paint your nails black?”
“She’ll think ‘oh good. Now she won’t try to steal mine!’”
“No,” he corrected, “she’ll think ‘my, doesn’t Spike’s nose look awfully breakable today!’”
Dawn glared at him for a few seconds before relenting. She crossed her arms muttering, “Fine. I don’t see why you care so much what she thinks, anyway.”
Spike’s eyes darted away from hers, and he addressed her shoulder. “I don’t. But I also don’t particularly relish the idea of being punched in the face. Again.”
“If you hate her so much, why do you do everything she says? And don’t say it’s for money. I know she quit paying you months ago.”
It was Spike’s turn to glare. “I think I liked you better when you were scared of me.”
She snorted. “Please. I was never scared of you. And you’re avoiding the question.”
“You’re too nosy for your own damn good you know that? Going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
“Not with you. Totally human over here. You can’t hurt me.”
He growled. “I could try.”
She stared at him. “Oh how terrified I’m not. ‘Don’t hurt Dawn’ falls under the category of things my sister says.”
“Fine. You’re right. I pretty much do the things she asks me too. It’s just how it is. And so far it’s worked out pretty well, what with me getting to be not dusty and all. Happy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not really.” She regarded him somberly for a moment. “ Can I ask you something?”
“Else, you mean?”
A smile flitted across her face. “Yeah.”
He heaved a sigh. “I don’t suppose my saying no will stop you. What’s with the bloody inquisition anyway?”
“Nothing else to do I guess? Since you won’t let me paint my nails. Plus, it’s not like you and I have many one-on-one encounters. So can I? Ask?”
He let out a harsh puff of air from his nose. “Yeah, go ahead.”
Dawn cocked her head to the side and watched as he resumed painting his nails. “I was just wondering…why are you still here?” he stilled, but didn’t look up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are, especially when you’re being all helpful guy and fighting on our side, but it’s not like anyone from the Initiative is around to remove the chip, and everyone sort of wails on you, and as long as you went somewhere with a butcher shop and underground dwelling opportunities, you’d be fine right?”
“What’s your point?” he asked his lap.
“Why don’t you leave?”
He was taking in careful, even breaths. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
His head finally snapped up, and the fire in his eyes startled Dawn. “Because I can’t! Alright?” he chuckled. “Never could, could I? Got beat down every time I showed up here, and what do I do? I keep coming back for more. And now I can’t leave.”
She’d inched away from him a little when he started yelling, but curiosity got the better of her once more. “But if there’s nothing here for you-“
“Oh,” his voice softened, “there’s something here for me.”
Just as Dawn opened her mouth to ask what it was, the crypt door flew open with a bang that made both vampire and teenager jump.
Spike grinned wryly. “Slayer.”
“Spike.” Buffy then turned her attention to Dawn. “Sorry I’m so late.”
She hopped from the sarcophagus. “No worries. How’d it go with the Council?”
Buffy grinned. “Let’s just say, they won’t be a problem anymore. How’d it go here?”
“Fine. Mom and Spike watched Passions, and then Mom and I watched some more TV until she fell asleep. Pretty uneventful.”
Buffy glanced over her shoulder to where Joyce was beginning to stir, and then refocused on Spike. “You know most Passions fans are middle-aged women right?”
His smile widened. “What can I say love? I defy boundaries.”
Buffy’s only response was to roll her eyes before crossing the room to help her mother.
Dawn turned her head to look at Spike, determined to get the answer to her last question before she left. “So what’s here for-“ she began, but when she saw his face she stopped. He was staring at Buffy; longing and something else she’d never seen there, written on his face.
Then he blinked and looked down at Dawn. “What?”
“Never mind.”
“Come on Dawnie. Time to go.” Buffy and Joyce were standing at the door, looking at her expectantly. She walked towards them, glancing between Buffy and Spike, understanding blooming in her mind.
Spike/Dawn
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Sunnydale, 2001
Spike sat cross-legged on top of his sarcophagus, painting his nails and surveying his surprise houseguests. Joyce was starting to doze off in front of the television and Dawn was-
“Boo.” Behind him. But he didn’t jump. Not at all. She hoisted herself up, and as he was turning to face her she grinned. “I scared you didn’t I? I rule.”
“Didn’t scare me. Just wasn’t expecting you to be over here. Thought you were watching the telly with your mum.”
She shrugged. “I was. But she’s asleep and the only thing on is the news. And it’s always the same; disappearances, weird deaths, unexplained crazies.” She faked a yawn. “Boring.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That so?” she just nodded. “And you decided what? Nothing worth watching so you’d come play ‘harass the vampire’?”
“Nah. Harassing you is Buffy’s deal. I just wanted to see if I could borrow some nail polish.”
She reached for it, but he slid away from her. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“What’s big sis going to think if she comes to fetch you, and I’ve let you paint your nails black?”
“She’ll think ‘oh good. Now she won’t try to steal mine!’”
“No,” he corrected, “she’ll think ‘my, doesn’t Spike’s nose look awfully breakable today!’”
Dawn glared at him for a few seconds before relenting. She crossed her arms muttering, “Fine. I don’t see why you care so much what she thinks, anyway.”
Spike’s eyes darted away from hers, and he addressed her shoulder. “I don’t. But I also don’t particularly relish the idea of being punched in the face. Again.”
“If you hate her so much, why do you do everything she says? And don’t say it’s for money. I know she quit paying you months ago.”
It was Spike’s turn to glare. “I think I liked you better when you were scared of me.”
She snorted. “Please. I was never scared of you. And you’re avoiding the question.”
“You’re too nosy for your own damn good you know that? Going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
“Not with you. Totally human over here. You can’t hurt me.”
He growled. “I could try.”
She stared at him. “Oh how terrified I’m not. ‘Don’t hurt Dawn’ falls under the category of things my sister says.”
“Fine. You’re right. I pretty much do the things she asks me too. It’s just how it is. And so far it’s worked out pretty well, what with me getting to be not dusty and all. Happy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not really.” She regarded him somberly for a moment. “ Can I ask you something?”
“Else, you mean?”
A smile flitted across her face. “Yeah.”
He heaved a sigh. “I don’t suppose my saying no will stop you. What’s with the bloody inquisition anyway?”
“Nothing else to do I guess? Since you won’t let me paint my nails. Plus, it’s not like you and I have many one-on-one encounters. So can I? Ask?”
He let out a harsh puff of air from his nose. “Yeah, go ahead.”
Dawn cocked her head to the side and watched as he resumed painting his nails. “I was just wondering…why are you still here?” he stilled, but didn’t look up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are, especially when you’re being all helpful guy and fighting on our side, but it’s not like anyone from the Initiative is around to remove the chip, and everyone sort of wails on you, and as long as you went somewhere with a butcher shop and underground dwelling opportunities, you’d be fine right?”
“What’s your point?” he asked his lap.
“Why don’t you leave?”
He was taking in careful, even breaths. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
His head finally snapped up, and the fire in his eyes startled Dawn. “Because I can’t! Alright?” he chuckled. “Never could, could I? Got beat down every time I showed up here, and what do I do? I keep coming back for more. And now I can’t leave.”
She’d inched away from him a little when he started yelling, but curiosity got the better of her once more. “But if there’s nothing here for you-“
“Oh,” his voice softened, “there’s something here for me.”
Just as Dawn opened her mouth to ask what it was, the crypt door flew open with a bang that made both vampire and teenager jump.
Spike grinned wryly. “Slayer.”
“Spike.” Buffy then turned her attention to Dawn. “Sorry I’m so late.”
She hopped from the sarcophagus. “No worries. How’d it go with the Council?”
Buffy grinned. “Let’s just say, they won’t be a problem anymore. How’d it go here?”
“Fine. Mom and Spike watched Passions, and then Mom and I watched some more TV until she fell asleep. Pretty uneventful.”
Buffy glanced over her shoulder to where Joyce was beginning to stir, and then refocused on Spike. “You know most Passions fans are middle-aged women right?”
His smile widened. “What can I say love? I defy boundaries.”
Buffy’s only response was to roll her eyes before crossing the room to help her mother.
Dawn turned her head to look at Spike, determined to get the answer to her last question before she left. “So what’s here for-“ she began, but when she saw his face she stopped. He was staring at Buffy; longing and something else she’d never seen there, written on his face.
Then he blinked and looked down at Dawn. “What?”
“Never mind.”
“Come on Dawnie. Time to go.” Buffy and Joyce were standing at the door, looking at her expectantly. She walked towards them, glancing between Buffy and Spike, understanding blooming in her mind.