Conversations About Dead People, Ch.17

[caty_did]

 

AN: I am so sorry this took me so long. I’m sure you don’t want to hear my excuses, but I want to explain myself a bit. I’ve been working on this chapter for two weeks, and I’ve probably rewritten it at least four times. I suffered from horrendous writer’s block. And it wasn’t the kind where I didn’t know what to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to happen, I knew what characters I was using, and I knew what I was trying to portray. But I couldn’t get my words to cooperate. The dialogue was wooden and slightly contrived, the narration read like it was written by a nine year old. The whole thing was a mess. But I did my best to work through it and, although I’m not 100% satisfied with it, I finally feel like this chapter has reached a point where it meets my own personal standards. Hopefully you guys will agree.

I want to thank everyone who’s reviewed. I honestly don’t think I would have worked past the block without you. I had to go back and re-read the reviews on this story to remind myself that, yes, there are people who read and enjoy what I’ve written. So this chapter dedicated to you. Thank you so much for all the support.

Chapter Note: Takes place early in the summer between seasons five and six. The characters are Spike and the Buffybot. I realize that the Bot is kind of a strange choice of character, but I really wanted to show grieving Spike and she serves as something of a catalyst.

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Sunnydale, June 2001

“Knock-knock!”

“Not going to answer.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘who’s there?’ silly.”

Spike ignored the Buffybot and continued to trudge through the cemetery. The Bot hurried to keep pace with his long strides and pouted.

“You’re no fun. You used to be fun.”

“Yeah? Well I used to be a lot of things.”

And then, from the grave behind them, a formidable looking vampire burst onto the scene. At the sound of his roar, the Bot spun around and withdrew her stake.

“Hey there big boy. Want some steak?”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up. If that was Red’s idea of a good pun, they were in more trouble than they thought.

The vampire was not thrown off in the least, and made a beeline towards them. The Bot made to stab him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her into the air. She landed back first on a headstone and didn’t get up. Spike’s stomach clenched for a moment.

“Just a robot.” He muttered under his breath. “Not real.”

Unfortunately for him, her foe didn’t know that. Before Spike could stop him, he’d picked up Buffybot’s dazed form, and sunk his fangs into her neck. But instead of the blood he was expecting, he got an electrical shock.

“Aughh!” he tossed her away, and she lay on her back blinking at the stars. He turned towards Spike. “What the hell, man? What was that?” He continued to stumble around in pain. Spike seized the opportunity, and thrust a stake into his heart.

Through the settling dust, Spike could see the Bot propped up on one elbow, her other hand pressed to her neck. She was still looking a little out of it; so he crouched down to examine the damage.

“Move your hand.” He addressed the headstone behind her. As long as he didn’t have to look at her face he’d keep it together.

“Just a puncture wound. Shouldn’t be too hard for Willow to patch you up.” He stood up and extended a hand. “Let’s go.”

More to fill the silence than out of any real desire for conversation, he began to speak again. “They should never have sent us out alone anyway. Just because Dawn’s round at her friend’s and they have to have a meeting. They can’t be talking about anything vital. And it’s not like demons are going to get suspicious because they don’t see you out one night. Told her you were gonna get hurt.”

“I feel okay.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to the holes in your- why’d you stop?”

She was standing still, an odd expression on her face. He doubled back, looking around wildly for whatever had stopped her.

“Do you see another vamp?”

She grinned. Why was she grinning? And where was she looking?

Then, with no warning, she reached out and began to run her hand over his chest. He froze.

“Slaying just gets me so worked up.” She breathed in his ear. “I’m all… tight and uncomfortable. We should work off some of this tension. Dontcha think?”

He didn’t move, he couldn’t. Too shocked to think, too shocked to even breathe. Her hand moved lower. And lower. And-

He sprung backwards, away from her. Her lower lip jutted out and, for a second, all he could see was a tiny groom smeared in red paint.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to take me, right here, where anyone could see?”

He backed away, shaking his head. “No. No, no, no, no, no. Willow said she got rid of all that stuff.”

The Bot brightened. “Willow is my friend!”

“Yeah. She is. And we need to get back to her, so she can fix you.”

“But I don’t want Willow. I want you. I just can’t help myself.”

Spike swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. He had to shut her up, and not just for the sake of his own sanity. A slayer who was too friendly with him would be a dead give away. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the entrance of the cemetery, trying to calculate how long it would take them to reach Revello. If they ran into anything on the way he would just have to make sure she slayed without talking.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ve told you. We’re going home to patch you up.”

“And I told you I don’t want to go home. I feel fine. I want to have sex. With you. Right now.”

“Keep it down!”

“I’ll do that thing with my tongue you like so much.” She bargained.

“Right. That’s it.” He pulled her toward the nearest crypt, kicked the door open and shoved her in.

She turned to face him, a wide smile splitting her face.

“You have got to stop saying things about you and I having sex.”

“But it’s been so long. Don’t you miss me?”

Pain bloomed in his chest, and he looked her in the eye for the first time in weeks.

Buffy. It was Buffy and she was standing there asking if he missed her. Didn’t she know? Couldn’t she that he’d never missed anything as much as he missed her? Never loved something as much as he’d loved her? Still loved her. He was still drowning in her, still covered in her. He hadn’t had a dream yet without her in it. Of course he missed her.

But no. Buffy wasn’t here, and wouldn’t be again. He couldn’t save her, except in dreams. The thing that was staring at him was nothing but a travesty. A personal hell fashioned by his own desperate desires. He snapped.

“No! I don’t!” The Bot reared back at the sudden fury in his voice.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you! I want her! Can’t you see that? And you may look like her, and recognize her friends, and have her memories, but you’re not her! You’ll never be her. No matter what Willow programs into you, you can Never. Be. Her!”

As quickly as it came, his rage seeped out. He took a shuddered breath and continued.

“You don’t move like her, you don’t talk like her, you don’t try like her. And you sure as hell don’t fight like her! How we’re tricking anyone like this is beyond me. I just can’t fathom that anyone can look at you and believe that it’s her.

“You’re nothing. Plastic and metal and computers. You’ll never have her passion, her fire. You’ll never have her soul.”

He laughed, low and guttural. “ And what I can’t figure out is how I ever thought you compared. How was I ever able to touch you, smell you, fucking taste you, and think that it was good enough? How could I feel you moving against me and pretend it was her?”

The Bot just looked confused. “I thought you liked me.”

“Of course I don’t like you. You’re cold. You’ve never been anything but cold and fake. But her? She was warm, pulsing. Alive. The bloody sun, slipping through my fingers. And I thought, I mean that last night, when she invited me in. There was something…

“But she’s gone. Gone somewhere I’m never gonna be. And maybe you can fool all the people, and all the beasties in this damn town. But you’re not fooling me. And it’ll be better for everyone if you’d stop trying.”

She crossed the narrow space, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I just want to make you happy.”

He swiped at the tears he couldn’t remember shedding. “But you can’t. I loved a person. You’re just a machine with her face.”

………………..

The front door of the Summer’s home swung open to reveal Tara. Her eyes darted between the bite on the Buffybot’s neck and Spike’s red eyes.

“Vampire got a jump on her. He’s dust, but she hit her back. Think it knocked something loose.”

Before she could ask what he meant, the Bot opened her mouth to forlornly announce, “I wanted to have sex in the graveyard. But instead Spike yelled at me. And then he cried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Tara shot him a look of sympathy. “We’ll fix it. Do you want to come in for a minute? I’ll heat you up some blood?”

“Nah. Thanks, but I think I’ll patrol a bit more. We didn’t get much done before…”

She offered a sweet smile. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

He simply nodded and turned back to the unforgiving night.

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Comments

[zanthinegirl.livejournal.com]

Oh, very nice. That scene rings true to me; of course a grieving Spike would lash out, and then cry.

“But you can’t. I loved a person. You’re just a machine with her face.”

Ouch. I'm not quite sure if I should feel more sorry for Spike or the Buffy-Bot in this chapter!

And I don't think you need to worry about this chapter. It's an interesting take, and a view point I hadn't considered. Like it a lot!

[smells_corrupt.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for the kind words. And I do apologize for the slightly pathetic, very needy authors note. :)