TITLE: Total Share Mode
AUTHOR: Samantha McCullah
EMAIL: ankhet@cswnet.com
DISTRIBUTION: You like it, put it up. Just make sure my name stays attached.
SPOILERS: Becoming (1&2)
CONTENT: Minor situation, no detail.
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Buffy and Spike talk on the way to LA
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy & Co. Joss Whedon does. I'm just borrowing
them and I'll return them when I'm done playing.
NOTE: This is the sequel to 'Awkward Moment'. It was pretty much unanimous
that I write one, so here it is. Enjoy!
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"Willow, do we have to be in total share mode?"
-- Buffy, "Lie to Me"
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Total Share Mode (1/3)
by Samantha McCullah
"I'm tellin' ya, Spike, it isn't gonna work," Buffy commented, leaning on
the fence next to the freeway.
"Have a little faith, pet," he replied, still holding his thumb out trying
to hitchhike.
"Look, Spike, you look like creep-guy. And people just don't pick up
creep-guy," she responded, walking over to him. She took his hand and
led him for a little ways. "C'mon. We've got several hours until
sunrise, and a walk will do us both some good."
"Oh, yeah, a nice romantic walk next to the highway. My idea of a perfect
date," Spike commented but didn't stop Buffy from leading him. When she
was sure he was walking with her, Buffy dropped his hand and fell into
step next to him.
"So conversation time," Buffy offered.
"Oh, I don't know, I was kinda thinking we could just walk in awkward
silence," Spike replied with a smile.
"Oh, yeah, and not even look at each other either," Buffy retorted.
"So, what do we wish to talk about, hmm?" Spike asked.
"Let's see. What do we have in common?" Buffy thought about for a moment.
"I know! Demons!" Spike stopped and stared at her. "It was a joke. You can
laugh at any moment."
"Funny, Slayer," he replied.
"You could call me Buffy, you know."
"I could, but I won't," he smiled down at her. "Not until you call me
William."
"Slayer it is then," she joked. "Spike?"
"Pet?"
"Tell about your life? You know, before the whole no-soul-thing," she
asked.
Spike sighed softly to himself and thought about denying her. But then
something inside him felt the urge to tell it. "Its a long story, pet."
"Aren't they all?" she replied, smiling at him.
He smiled back at her and began ...
---------------------
Spike's Story
I was born in 1798 the second son to a fairly prosperous farmer.
Which meant my older brother Adam would inherit everything, and I would
be left with two choices: the priesthood or the military. And since
celibacy's never been my gig, I decided the military was more my style.
Unfortunately I never got that far.
Anyway, I had a pretty normal childhood until my mother was killed for
adultery. My father had always treated me like an outcast; I guess it was
because he knew I wasn't his kid. The day after my mother was killed
I was thrown out of the house. So at the tender age of twelve, I was
forced onto the streets.
I became a beggar for, oh it was probably a year. Can't really remember
anymore. Anyway, I was an urchin until a nice old man took me in. Little
did I know the man wasn't so nice.
I was abused. Sexually, mentally, and physically. It wasn't a fun time,
and I'll spare you the details. I spent two years with him until he found
a new playmate. I would have left him long before. But I was afraid. Afraid
of going back out there, back to the streets, back to a life where I didn't
know where my next meal was comin' from.
I guess the time I spent with him twisted me. The abuse drove me to the
edge but not quite over it. It was then, living back on the streets, that
I discovered a talent for torture.
I stated with animals, and it was a way for me to work out frustrations.
Rats in the beginning, but then I started moving up the food chain. Kittens,
then puppies, moving on to larger cats and dogs. By the time I was twenty
I was ready to move onto people.
My first fictim was a prostitute. She was beautiful. Blonde hair, gray eyes,
but she was diseased. It was beginning to show, and I convinced myself that
I would be doing mankind a favor. So I grabbed her one night and drug her to
a secluded abandoned building.
I tied her up with the only convientent restraint: barbed wire. The only
thing I had to use was a small knife. I'd heard it said that it hieghtened
the pain for the device to be small. From the look in her eyes, it did.
She begged me, after the first few cuts. I can still hear her call my name.
Sometimes, when I truly sleep, I hear a soft voice cry, "William." I hadn't
thought about the fact that she knew me. I'd been planning to let her go
when I was done, but she knew me. She knew my name.
I killed her. I didn't even finish; I got scared again. This time I was
terrified that I'd be caught. I slit her throat and left her in that
building. I never went back. I don't know if they ever found her.
I left town that night. Went far, far away. I hoped I could escape my
urges, but they just grew stronger. I drifted from town to town leaving
a trail of bodies.
The police called me 'Spike'; guess you always wondered who gave me that
name. They called me that because I'd hammer a railroad spike into my
victims hearts; quick death, that way. They didn't suffer. I got a job
with the new railroad company, so I was always on the go. I thought
no one knew I was killing those people. Guess I was wrong.
He came to me one night in 1822. Your Angel; he knew about me. Called me
William the Bloody. He said he could see the blood on my hands. I suppose
deep down I was glad I'd been caught, so I could stop runnin'. Maybe have
a normal life with a wife and 2.5 kids.
Then he changed, and his face got all weird. He had fangs. Sharp fangs.
That's all I remember about his face. The fangs. Then he bit me, the
bloody bastard bit me. I felt the blood drain out of my body, and it
felt good, pleasure and pain combined.
Then he slit his wrist, and his blood dripped into my mouth. I changed.
The urges I previously tried to supress surged full strength; the last
thread of my humanity was eaten away as the demon took full control.
I slowly came out of death or where ever I'd been while my body changed.
I realized I looked like him; my face had changed into something hideous.
But I didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
William died that night. And I became Spike.
_____________________
Buffy stared at him for a few moments as the walked in dead silence.
She turned back to the road and continued on without speaking.
"You wanted to know," Spike broke the silence.
"I didn't...," she began.
"Its who I am. Deal with it; I have to," he replied.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I did want to know."
"No problem, pet."
"Couple of questions." Spike nodded for her to go ahead.
"Your dad and family?"
"We killed them. Angel and I. We went back the night I was made."
He didn't offer details, and Buffy didn't push. "Next question."
"The old man, the one who--," she began.
"I killed him," Spike interuppted. Again, no details, and Buffy wasn't
sure she wanted them.
"Okay, my turn now?" she asked, quickly changing the subject. Spike
smiled gratefully. "What do you want to know?"
"What happened after you killed Lothos?"
"Ewwww, tough question," she joked. "Okay the year was 1996, I was the
Slayer, and my boyfriends name was Pike...."
"Pike?" Spike laughed.
"Hey! I didn't interuppt you; you don't interuppt me. Now where was I?
Oh, yeah, 1996, Slayer, and Pike...."
-------------------------
Buffy's Story
After I burned down the Hemery High Gym, Pike and I went elsewhere.
All I can remember is that it wasn't anywhere near Hemery, and that
I hoped it was vampire free. Unfortunately, like everything else in
my life, it didn't go as I'd hoped.
We arrived in a small park just after dusk, and since I was in serious
denial, I ignored the feelings I was getting. My Slayer sense was kickin'
in big time, and there were vampires nearby. But since Pike didn't seem
worried, I just went about the business of watching him set up a picnic.
He must've had it planned since before the whole vampire thing, 'cause
it was extremely nice. Unfortunatly the vampires chose that moment to
attack. There were three of them. Big ones, too, and me without any
stakes. So I grabbed the closest thing.
Unlucky for me, the closest thing to me was a peice of chicken. You
ever attack anything with a peice of poultry? Lemme tell you it is not
a pretty site. A funny site, yes, but not pretty. So there I was
trying to look damn frightning holding a drumstick, and the three were
laughing it up.
Well, Pike had gone off to parts unknown during this time. Well, unknown
until he showed up with several broken tree limbs. Needless to say,
we made quick work of them. I'll spare the details; it was mainly I
stab, they dust. That sorta thing.
Anyway, sometime during the fight, I don't know when and Pike would
never tell me, he got bit. You know, nothing big. The vamp was trying
to feed and Pike staked him before any bloodletting occured. But we
were still faced with the problem of cleaning the wound.
I mean, we couldn't take him to the hospital. 'Cause doctors ask a lot of
questions, and I was still wanted by the police as an arsonist. So, ever
ready Slayer that I am, I had some holy water on hand. It'd been left over
from the fight with Lothos.
However, when I poured it over the wound, the bite smoked and blistered
as if I'd poured on a real vamp. Pike screamed, but I just kept pouring
and pouring until every bit of holy water was on that wound. I think he
threw up several times, before passing out. I tore bits of my dress
apart to make a bandage and placed it over the bite.
When he woke up, he wasn't happy. Of course if somebody had just poured
eight ounces of holy water on my vampire bite, I'd have been fairly
pissed, too. Needless to say, we fought, he decided I was too dangerous
to hang around, blah, blah, blah. We broke up, and he left me stranded
in that park.
Eventually, I made it home, got expelled, Mom and I moved to Sunnydale,
and here I am.
---------------
"Not very exciting, I know. But that's my life. A demon here, a vampire
there, a bug-lady way over there. Not overly full of thrills," Buffy
commented.
"You poured holy water on a vampire bite?" Spike laughed.
"Hey! I was new to the Slaying biz. How was I to know what would
happen?" she defended. Spike just laughed, and Buffy proceeded to
stop and glare at him.
Spike grew serious. "Hey, I'm sorry, pet," he replied. "Did I ever
tell you about my trip to Woodstock?" he asked changing the subject.
"I don't believe you did."
"Remind me to sometime. Hey, I've even got pictures. Sure they're all
of my hand, but they're pictures."
"Spike? Vampires don't show up on film," Buffy commented.
"Oh," he replied, looking confused. "Then whose hand was it?"
<Fin>
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Comments? Send too Samantha McCullah
Get me back to Angel of the Night!
Get me back to Spike's Corner!
Get me outta here period!