TTR/TDF [CF] Ever Fallen In Love With Someone (You Shouldna Fallen in Love
SPOILERS for Buffy season 5 finale.
This takes place (in TTR 'continuity') in between the end of Rock the Casbah
and before Doug's Friendly Hopes.
Author's note at the end.
TTR/TDF [CF] Ever Fallen In Love With Someone (You Shouldna Fallen in Love
The first week, I couldn't even get drunk.
The second week, I got drunk and had a big fight with Angel. And Giles. And
Xander. I let them all beat me - even Xander - because I deserved it. I
OK, so I've been a pathetic failure all my life. I was useless as a man. An
appalling poet. Couldn't even get myself killed properly, no. Had to get
turned into a vampire. And, as Angel is oh so fond of telling me, I'm not
even any good at that. The only thing I excelled at was killing Slayers. And
now I've done it again. Only that went wrong too. I should have been the one
to die. I should have taken Doc down. It should have been *me*.
The third week, I started to escape. How could any of them understand?
Giles, Xander - they knew where they were, where they stood. Angel? He'd
left, cut himself off. But at least he'd had her love. They'd all had her
love, one way or another. We...I don't know where we stood, what could have
happened next. Kept away from them all. Avoided them. Started coming here.
She's not dead here.
Another thing worth mentioning: normal rules don't apply.
I didn't get this immediately. Only used to come Outside at night. Then I
crashed out in the Round, woke up the next day and wandered outside, still
plastered. Absolutely no catching-on-fire. The Great Poof - as I so lovingly
call my Sire, well, grand-sire, technically - waffled on about some
dimension he ended up in where he could walk about in the sunlight. Got all
misty-eyed happy about it. That's cuz he has this whole I-don't-want-to-be-
a-vampire guilt thing. I don't. I'm a vampire. A monster. People who would
have laughed in my face if I'd been human - they fear me. Feared.
I've gone soft.
Anyway, I only mention all this so you'll understand why I'm able to wander
about during the day without the whole flame thing. I try to keep to the
shadows anyway: I prefer them.
So today I've been wandering about the river meadows. The geography of this
place is a bit fluid, to say the least. You've got the pub - the This Time
Round - which is on a country road about a mile from a village which has a
surprising number of amenities. More than you'd expect in an English
village, anyway. Two weeks ago, a blood bank opened there. Rather handy, if
implausible. Behind the pub is a large hill and some woodlands. Reminds me
of the Lake District. And yes, I did once go on a poetry-writing holiday to
Scarsdale: I'm not ashamed. Much. Anyway, to the front of the pub, the river
meadows have appeared. They remind me of Oxfordshire: lush wild meadows
rising to some oh-so-handy treelines. Like I said, the geography of this
place seems to suit a person's needs a little too well.
Walking through the cover, I heard them. Wandered over for a little
look-see. Adric and Nyssa. I can recognise his please-don't-kill-me whine
anywhere. I lean on a tree and watch them. Not lurking, I'll have you know.
She's got him lying on a picnic rug and is drizzling honey onto him. Hello,
I think, is this some secret side to them? Have they been holding out on all
of us? Just pretending to fight? No. She's got his arms and legs staked out.
She's trailing the honey along the ground to a bare batch where, even
without my glasses, I can see a huge ants nest. Ah, torture. Now *this* I
can watch all day.
Tegan came over and sat in my booth the other night. She's a noxious Aussie
but at least she's forthright. I like that, being honest, even if it does
get you into trouble. She asked me if drinking was helping? Not really.
"We lost him," she said, suddenly. I know I frowned at her.
"Adric. He...he died," she explained.
"He's always dying," I told her, "Nyssa keeps killing him. It's what passes
for entertainment round these parts."
"No." Tegan shook her head. "Inside. We lost him Inside."
This was news to me. I thought they came from the sort of Inside Dimension
where the main players didn't die. She suddenly got a lost look on her face.
The sort of look I keep seeing on Willow. The sort of look that says it's
just not sinking in, that's it's too painful to be let in. Tegan turned her
drink round and round on the coaster, not taking a sip. She was staring at
it, not looking at me. Actually, I don't think she was seeing it, either.
"It had to be stopped. *Had* to. If it wasn't the whole world would have
been destroyed. We...we did our best but we failed. He - Adric - he realised
there was no alternative. He didn't argue with us, didn't have time. He just
did it. He died to save the world."
And then I was crying again. She looked up at me, then. Put one hand out and
gripped mine. Tried to pass on the strength to keep going.
"It was twenty years ago," she said, "but it doesn't get easier."
"She...she seemed to handle it OK, at the time. I do wonder if this
killing of him is some kind of outlet though."
Down in the meadow, the ants have found the trail of honey. Nyssa is sat
nearby, making notes in a book and consulting some battered old paperback. I
feel a warm breeze by my ear.
"Whatya' doing?" she asks.
"Watching young love," I tell her.
Then I turn and see her looking at me. One bare shoulder is leaning on the
tree next to me and her hair is messily clipped back. She's got one of those
floaty summer dresses on. Very girly. I almost start to cry right there. She
looks into the meadow and frowns.
"Is she torturing him again?"
"Uh-huh. I think it's payback."
We turn and both lean against the tree trunk, shoulder to shoulder, watching
the two aliens. I wish that I wasn't wearing my leather. That my own bare
arm was brushing hers. Feeling her warm. She shouldn't be cold. I hate to
think that she's cold now.
"You can't stay here forever," she says, eventually, without looking at me.
"I want to. It's better here." I tell her.
"You made a promise," I can imagine her pout. I don't turn to look though.
Daren't. I don't answer for a long time.
"I'm still here."
Then I'm turning and grabbing her arms. Shaking her. Yelling.
"That's just it! You're still here, out here! I can't stand it, inside. I
can't bear it. I want you back!"
"I want you back, Buffy! I want you..." I let go of her arms and sink to the
ground before her, hiding my tears from her with my hands. "...back."
She drops into a crouch next to me, one slim hand gripping my neck, the
thumb rubbing my skin. The other hand touches my own, tries to pull them
from my face.
"This isn't real, Spike. None of this. You can't hide out here for ever
because when you go back Inside I'll still be gone. And I need you to be
there, Spike, I need you there and strong and still fighting."
She manages to pull one of my hands away from my face and for a second she
touches my wet cheek before I swat her hand away. She lets out a forced
"That's more like the Spike I know and loathe."
"Piss off, Slayer."
"That's much more like it. Make me, Spike. Make me leave. Get back at me for
dying and turning you into a pathetic moper."
"Hey!" I look up at her and glare, knowing how stupid that must look with my
tear-marked face. She smirks and stands up, heads back into the shadowy
woods. I'm still staring as she turns back and calls out.
"Come on, you pathetic little cry-baby!"
Why the little minx...
I glance back into the meadow as I rise to my feet to take off after the
laughing Slayer. Adric is making whimpering sounds as the ants reach his
face. Nyssa...Nyssa is looking towards the treeline, towards me.
She gives me a sad smile and nods. Maybe there is someone who understands,