Title: Something To Hold Onto
Author: Angelus
E-mail: [email protected] (Please put "Something To Hold Onto" on the subject line.)
Subject: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Category: General. Bit o' angst.
Rating: G
Summary: Tara finds comfort in the arms of an unexpected new friend.
Spoilers: Not sure the name of the ep, but it's one of those 2 or 3 where they're in the Winnebago running from Glory. Nothing that'll really ruin the ep for you, though.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, sure I own 'em. In my dreams. Buffy, Dawn, Spike, WIllow, Giles, Tara, Xander, and other characters mentioned are the property of Joss Whedon, WGN, and Mutant Enemy Inc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Hmm. Not sure how I feel about this one. Lemme know what you think. And no, I'm not into Tara and...well, I won't ruin it, but it's not meant to be a romance.
Dedication: To Christina. Merry Christmas. And sorry about all the confusion about Matt, but thanks for listening to all the real stuff. Good luck with Brian.
~*~
"So pretty!" Tara exclaims, weaving her fingers through the air as she watches the thin beams of sunlight filter through the tightly-closed blinds. But no matter how tight you pull those things, there's always gonna be some that manage to find their way through - something I've learned in my 126 years of trying to avoid being fried during the daytime in houses and cars obviously made for sun-loving humans.
She grasps desperately in the air, trying to catch a single golden ray, but the stubborn prisms slip easily through her fingers. "Can I have one?" she asks Willow. The petite redhead sighs a world-weary sigh that makes her seem well over her twenty years and restrains her former lover. I have to turn my head. I can't watch them like this - it's too much like looking into a mirror.
But, stubborn as she is, the Wiccan climbs out of her keeper's embrace and, in one quick motion, yanks the blinds open. I dive for cover under the table, but my hand manages to get caught in the light, and I wave it frantically about, trying to put out the flames. I hear Willow reprimand Tara. When it's safe once again, I sit back in my chair and examine the damage. First degree burns, possibly second. It's no big deal - I've seen worse. It'll be completely gone in a day or so.
Still, however, Willow babbles apologies. "I'm so sorry. She didn't mean to. She doesn't know what she's doing."
"It's allright," I assure her, holding up my charred hand in front of Tara's face. "Look - the skin's already stopped smoking. Play peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine all you like - keeps the ride from getting boring." By now, the blonde witch has my hand grasped in hers and is attempting to crawl into my lap.
"Tara..." Willow admonishes, but I shake my head.
"No, let her," I say.
"Spike, I can't ask you to..."
"You didn't ask. I insisted." There is a moment of contemplation, but she finally shrugs and moves toward the front of the Winnebago to talk with Buffy. I don't miss the fact that she sits in a position that allows her to see my every move. Not that I blame her, of course. I wouldn't trust anyone I cared about with me, either.
Tara tugs on my shirt, still holding my hand in a painfully tight grip. I look down to see her gazing up at me with wide, questioning eyes full of sadness.
"The light's gone," she wails mournfully.
~*~
Tara stays with me for the rest of the ride, quieter and more relaxed than ever. The first day, Willow checked on her about every hour to make sure she was okay, but by now she trusts me enough to know that I have no intention of hurting her girlfriend. Dawn comes to visit, too, and watching the two of them, I can just feel my heart melting. If I don't watch it, I'm gonna end up like my nancyboy sire one day.
Giles does most of the driving, switching off occasionally with Willow. I shudder to think what would happen if he allowed Xander - or Buffy, for that matter - behind the wheel. The whole bloody car seems to have gone silent somewhere in the last few days, and it's going to drive my out of my mind before this sodding trip is over. Tara tries her best to console me when I'm getting angry - she seems to sense it somehow. Then she'll take my healing hand, stroke my brow, and hum softly.
When Willow comes in, she has this look on her face - a look that's almost sadness. Of course she's sad. But there's something else there, too. Almost like a longing. The only way I figure is she's hurt that I'm able to give Tara the comfort that she seeks, and I wish with all my blackened heart that she could get that comfort from Willow, but I do have a fair amount of experience with the crazies.
God, Dru...
She's nothing like Dru, which is good, because that way I can't disillusion myself into thinking that she *is* Dru. Tara is under Glory's mind control, and babbles about the "big day." Occasionally, she remarks on her surroundings, or makes an offhand comment about nothing, but she doesn't have stars in her eyes and she doesn't have *that* giggle. She barely laughs or even smiles at all.
But Dru...Dru was always off somewhere far away; lost in her own fantasy land filled with flowers and fairies and torture racks. She had the mindset, scary as the thought is, of a three-year-old serial killer. She loved to gaze at the moon as much as she loved to feed off of innocent children. She would dance about in the rain, spinning in frenzied circles, songs and prophecies spilling from her mouth and God help me but I was as truly, madly and deeply in love with her as a person or vampire can possibly be. She was my Princess - my Black Beauty.
Tara's not Dru.
But I love her just as she is.
~*~
Last night, we lay side-by-side in the bunk in the Winnebago that I had claimed as mine, Tara clinging to me, her face buried in my chest.
"Do you hear the pixies, luv?" I asked.
She looked up at me with eyes so big and dark they seemed to go on forever, but not understanding. So instead of answering, she rose a hand to play with my peroxide-stiff hair.
"Like little white wormies," she whispered. And then she giggled.
It was in that very moment that I fell in love with her.
~*~
Whoever started the rumor that vampires can't love should be shot. Just because we're demon instead of human, they assume that we're incapable of feeling or expressing emotion. I haven't loved very many people in my unnaturally long life, but I have loved.
A Watcher about 30 Slayers ago - long before I was born - met up with a vampire much like myself and hypothesized that it is only after about the first two centuries or so that a vampire develops the ability to feel. I have to say that I agree. After awhile, strange as it might sound, killing got old. Sure, it still gives me a thrill to snap the neck of some annoying kid and drink deep of that sweet blood, but the hunt gets to be routine. Vampires know all the tricks, and humans keep making all the same mistakes. So I tried to give it up. Well, not completely, but I tried to fit in. I started to realize that it *was* possible to connect with humans some way other than my fist connecting with their jaw.
That was around the time that I came back to Sunnydale. And now, as penance for my stupidity & vulnerability, I'm in love with the sodding Slayer. Vampire love is bloody and violent and very possessive, but it's love nonetheless. It's not the type of love where one goes weak at the knees. More the type where one gets hard in the crotch. Love and sex and blood essentially go hand in hand among vampires. Not pretty if you're a human, but to me it's perfectly normal.
So yeah, I love the Slayer like that. But Dawn and Tara and the whole lot of them? Not quite sure how that came about.
Maybe it's the chip, but I love 'em all. Well, with the exception of the Harris kid, that is. Giles is a fellow Brit, so I hafta love him. Anya is a great one to commiserate with about the pitfalls about being a demon and how much simpler it is to solve anything and everything by violence. Dawn is not only the Slayer's kid sister, but she's sweet and innocent like the way I'd like to imagine Dru was before Angelus got to her. Willow just continues to amaze me. She never stops changing. Just last year, she couldn't do much more than float a pencil in the air and cry over Wolf Boy. But now she's got Tara, and she's getting more and more powerful every day. And Tara...Tara is like the bird with the broken wing that even the toughest guy on earth would stop to help & bandage up. Having her here with me makes me feel like I actually have a purpose. Not a big one, but I do have something to contribute.
Maybe I'll stay like this forever - not quite on the inside, but too vital to be considered an outsider. Maybe in a year or two, I'll be shagging the Slayer. Maybe we'll end up an old married couple in a ranch house with a white picket fence. And maybe I'll go sunbathing tomorrow.
But whatever the future might hold, for right now I'm happy to let Tara draw on what little strength I have to give until Buffy and Willow and Giles find a way to make everything right again.
~*~
"The sun sets and she appears." -Spike, OMWF
Author: Angelus
E-mail: [email protected] (Please put "Something To Hold Onto" on the subject line.)
Subject: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Category: General. Bit o' angst.
Rating: G
Summary: Tara finds comfort in the arms of an unexpected new friend.
Spoilers: Not sure the name of the ep, but it's one of those 2 or 3 where they're in the Winnebago running from Glory. Nothing that'll really ruin the ep for you, though.
Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, sure I own 'em. In my dreams. Buffy, Dawn, Spike, WIllow, Giles, Tara, Xander, and other characters mentioned are the property of Joss Whedon, WGN, and Mutant Enemy Inc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Hmm. Not sure how I feel about this one. Lemme know what you think. And no, I'm not into Tara and...well, I won't ruin it, but it's not meant to be a romance.
Dedication: To Christina. Merry Christmas. And sorry about all the confusion about Matt, but thanks for listening to all the real stuff. Good luck with Brian.
~*~
"So pretty!" Tara exclaims, weaving her fingers through the air as she watches the thin beams of sunlight filter through the tightly-closed blinds. But no matter how tight you pull those things, there's always gonna be some that manage to find their way through - something I've learned in my 126 years of trying to avoid being fried during the daytime in houses and cars obviously made for sun-loving humans.
She grasps desperately in the air, trying to catch a single golden ray, but the stubborn prisms slip easily through her fingers. "Can I have one?" she asks Willow. The petite redhead sighs a world-weary sigh that makes her seem well over her twenty years and restrains her former lover. I have to turn my head. I can't watch them like this - it's too much like looking into a mirror.
But, stubborn as she is, the Wiccan climbs out of her keeper's embrace and, in one quick motion, yanks the blinds open. I dive for cover under the table, but my hand manages to get caught in the light, and I wave it frantically about, trying to put out the flames. I hear Willow reprimand Tara. When it's safe once again, I sit back in my chair and examine the damage. First degree burns, possibly second. It's no big deal - I've seen worse. It'll be completely gone in a day or so.
Still, however, Willow babbles apologies. "I'm so sorry. She didn't mean to. She doesn't know what she's doing."
"It's allright," I assure her, holding up my charred hand in front of Tara's face. "Look - the skin's already stopped smoking. Play peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine all you like - keeps the ride from getting boring." By now, the blonde witch has my hand grasped in hers and is attempting to crawl into my lap.
"Tara..." Willow admonishes, but I shake my head.
"No, let her," I say.
"Spike, I can't ask you to..."
"You didn't ask. I insisted." There is a moment of contemplation, but she finally shrugs and moves toward the front of the Winnebago to talk with Buffy. I don't miss the fact that she sits in a position that allows her to see my every move. Not that I blame her, of course. I wouldn't trust anyone I cared about with me, either.
Tara tugs on my shirt, still holding my hand in a painfully tight grip. I look down to see her gazing up at me with wide, questioning eyes full of sadness.
"The light's gone," she wails mournfully.
~*~
Tara stays with me for the rest of the ride, quieter and more relaxed than ever. The first day, Willow checked on her about every hour to make sure she was okay, but by now she trusts me enough to know that I have no intention of hurting her girlfriend. Dawn comes to visit, too, and watching the two of them, I can just feel my heart melting. If I don't watch it, I'm gonna end up like my nancyboy sire one day.
Giles does most of the driving, switching off occasionally with Willow. I shudder to think what would happen if he allowed Xander - or Buffy, for that matter - behind the wheel. The whole bloody car seems to have gone silent somewhere in the last few days, and it's going to drive my out of my mind before this sodding trip is over. Tara tries her best to console me when I'm getting angry - she seems to sense it somehow. Then she'll take my healing hand, stroke my brow, and hum softly.
When Willow comes in, she has this look on her face - a look that's almost sadness. Of course she's sad. But there's something else there, too. Almost like a longing. The only way I figure is she's hurt that I'm able to give Tara the comfort that she seeks, and I wish with all my blackened heart that she could get that comfort from Willow, but I do have a fair amount of experience with the crazies.
God, Dru...
She's nothing like Dru, which is good, because that way I can't disillusion myself into thinking that she *is* Dru. Tara is under Glory's mind control, and babbles about the "big day." Occasionally, she remarks on her surroundings, or makes an offhand comment about nothing, but she doesn't have stars in her eyes and she doesn't have *that* giggle. She barely laughs or even smiles at all.
But Dru...Dru was always off somewhere far away; lost in her own fantasy land filled with flowers and fairies and torture racks. She had the mindset, scary as the thought is, of a three-year-old serial killer. She loved to gaze at the moon as much as she loved to feed off of innocent children. She would dance about in the rain, spinning in frenzied circles, songs and prophecies spilling from her mouth and God help me but I was as truly, madly and deeply in love with her as a person or vampire can possibly be. She was my Princess - my Black Beauty.
Tara's not Dru.
But I love her just as she is.
~*~
Last night, we lay side-by-side in the bunk in the Winnebago that I had claimed as mine, Tara clinging to me, her face buried in my chest.
"Do you hear the pixies, luv?" I asked.
She looked up at me with eyes so big and dark they seemed to go on forever, but not understanding. So instead of answering, she rose a hand to play with my peroxide-stiff hair.
"Like little white wormies," she whispered. And then she giggled.
It was in that very moment that I fell in love with her.
~*~
Whoever started the rumor that vampires can't love should be shot. Just because we're demon instead of human, they assume that we're incapable of feeling or expressing emotion. I haven't loved very many people in my unnaturally long life, but I have loved.
A Watcher about 30 Slayers ago - long before I was born - met up with a vampire much like myself and hypothesized that it is only after about the first two centuries or so that a vampire develops the ability to feel. I have to say that I agree. After awhile, strange as it might sound, killing got old. Sure, it still gives me a thrill to snap the neck of some annoying kid and drink deep of that sweet blood, but the hunt gets to be routine. Vampires know all the tricks, and humans keep making all the same mistakes. So I tried to give it up. Well, not completely, but I tried to fit in. I started to realize that it *was* possible to connect with humans some way other than my fist connecting with their jaw.
That was around the time that I came back to Sunnydale. And now, as penance for my stupidity & vulnerability, I'm in love with the sodding Slayer. Vampire love is bloody and violent and very possessive, but it's love nonetheless. It's not the type of love where one goes weak at the knees. More the type where one gets hard in the crotch. Love and sex and blood essentially go hand in hand among vampires. Not pretty if you're a human, but to me it's perfectly normal.
So yeah, I love the Slayer like that. But Dawn and Tara and the whole lot of them? Not quite sure how that came about.
Maybe it's the chip, but I love 'em all. Well, with the exception of the Harris kid, that is. Giles is a fellow Brit, so I hafta love him. Anya is a great one to commiserate with about the pitfalls about being a demon and how much simpler it is to solve anything and everything by violence. Dawn is not only the Slayer's kid sister, but she's sweet and innocent like the way I'd like to imagine Dru was before Angelus got to her. Willow just continues to amaze me. She never stops changing. Just last year, she couldn't do much more than float a pencil in the air and cry over Wolf Boy. But now she's got Tara, and she's getting more and more powerful every day. And Tara...Tara is like the bird with the broken wing that even the toughest guy on earth would stop to help & bandage up. Having her here with me makes me feel like I actually have a purpose. Not a big one, but I do have something to contribute.
Maybe I'll stay like this forever - not quite on the inside, but too vital to be considered an outsider. Maybe in a year or two, I'll be shagging the Slayer. Maybe we'll end up an old married couple in a ranch house with a white picket fence. And maybe I'll go sunbathing tomorrow.
But whatever the future might hold, for right now I'm happy to let Tara draw on what little strength I have to give until Buffy and Willow and Giles find a way to make everything right again.
~*~
"The sun sets and she appears." -Spike, OMWF