|  | |
 |
| Carefully Everywhere Descending - Long and Dark, Shiney and Black by Dark Eyed Seer (7 Reviews) | | abc + + + |  | | | The girl at the desk was dressed in black. Her hair, however, was an alarming shade of purple. She looked about twenty-two and reluctantly put down a Kafka anthology when she sensed their approach.
The sallow expression on her white face brightened considerably when she got one look at Spike. The black painted mouth actually curved into a smile, “Hi, what can I do for you?”
Spike gave her trademark smirk number four (patent pending) and leaned over the desk, “My brother and I want library cards. Oh, and Buffy, too.”
'And Buffy, too?' Buffy thought moodily. I'm an afterthought now? Why does he have to smile that much?
She jumped in surprise when Will actually spoke. It was a whisper and barely that, but most definitely words, “He always does that. Sometimes it comes in handy, but I don't like it when he lets them touch him.”
Buffy's eyes zeroed in on the lace-shrouded hand with the spider ring that lingered briefly on Spike's arm, “I know what you mean.”
“You know, there is a waiting period… but that's just a stupid rule. I can give you the cards today, just fill this out. Be sure to write your phone number clearly.” The girl fluttered mascara laden lashes and Buffy fought the urge to remove them forcibly.
“See.” Will whispered hugging his books close to his chest.
“Ta, love.” Spike gave her a grateful wink, playing the accent up as much as possible.
Buffy fumed and Will rolled his eyes.
Within minutes all three had been granted their very own library cards for the City of Sunnydale and their books had been run through.
Spike lingered; however, talking quietly with the girl Buffy had named 'Morticia'. She was… attractive, Buffy had to admit grudgingly, in a dead sort of way.
When he finally joined them in front of the building, Will had seated himself on a park bench and was halfway through the first chapter of a novel from his stack. Buffy was tapping her foot looking murderous.
“Decided to join us, did you?” She barely managed a tone slightly above a hiss.
“Oh, sorry about that. I did get invited to a party on campus next weekend.” Spike slipped his books under his arm and lead the way down the library steps.
“Campus? As in UC of Sunnydale campus? As in the collage campus?” Buffy stopped halfway down the stairs nearly making Will collide with her back.
“Yeah, I think so. The one just outside of town.”
“Spike, you're sixteen.” Buffy said flatly, continuing down the stairs, feeling a bit ill without quite knowing why.
“So?”
“She's in her twenties at least. That's like statutory rape.”
“Not in England.” Spike responded breezily, not enjoying the conversation at all. He was used to having girls want him. He let them do whatever they pleased and when they moved on he got over it. Eventually. Siobhan would be no exception. He just didn't like to dwell on it much.
Buffy was dwelling. She was dwelling like it owed her money.
“We're in America now, Buster.” Buffy sped up so she was walking beside him. Will silently overtook him on the other side.
“I repeat, so?” Spike starting shifting the books around, wishing he had never gotten them out at all. Wishing he had never gotten talked into this stupid trip. He wished that he were a different person… or just a person period.
Sometimes he wished people didn't want him at all. It was much easier to deal with someone if they didn't want something from him.
And they all wanted something.
Buffy fell silent.
And Will piped up, “So I think you should stay away from her. She's just wants to use you.”
Spike snorted, “They all want that.”
His voice sounded like broken glass and it made Buffy wince. He handed his books to her suddenly, “I'm going to go- do something. I'll be back later.” And he was gone.
Really gone.
One minute he was there, the next he was out of sight. How did he do that?
Will was standing next to her, “Don't worry, he'll be back. He just needs to work things out.”
Buffy blinked at him. He had spoken at a normal volume. Of course, she was the only one in hearing range, but this was a huge improvement over the silent treatment, “What does he have to work out?”
“Things. He'll go to the party, he'll let her touch him and he get her off. She'll decide she needs someone more run of the mill to take home to meet mom and dad and give him a tearful break-up speech. It'll be genuine, they all are. They don't mean to break his heart but they just can't help it. He'll spend the next few weeks drunk or tripping or rolling on whatever drug in good supply at the time. Then it'll start all over again”
Buffy stared at his mouth, hearing the words but not wanting to, “Why does he just let it keep happening?”
“How can he not? Buffy, he doesn't go out looking for that sort of girl. The trouble is, they all turn into that sort of girl. Or boy. There have been a couple of those, too.”
Buffy didn't know how to feel. She held his books close as they walked home in silence. She let her fingers trace the spines. 'Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West', ' Slaughterhouse-Five', 'A Clockwork Orange', and 'The Collected Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe.'
She wanted to read these, suddenly. She wanted to know why he wanted to read them. She paused at the last one and marveled at the fact that he thought poetry entertaining.
* * *
Spike had convinced a pretty, soccer-mom type to buy him a six-pack of Guinness. She had given him a look that said 'I want to be BAD' and just went in and did it.
It's always the ones you'd least suspect, he thought coming up to the junk yard on the edges of the wrong side of town. He meandered through piles of tires and filth wishing he were considerably more drunk. Stupid weird demon metabolism.
Then he saw it. It was beside a pile of fetid diapers and had some nasty scratches along the sides. It was beautiful.
It was bloody huge.
The car stretched out like a behemoth, still glinting black in the early afternoon sun. The name on the back read Desoto. He was in love.
* * *
Buffy lounged on the back porch reading 'Wicked' and pretending not to be waiting for Spike to come home. Will was on the other side of the porch doing the same. Though his distraction of choice was a complicated looking science fiction paperback dubiously titled 'Green Mars'.
When she finally spotted their quarry she nearly fell of the swing, “What the hell is that?”
He was pushing a massive black metal monstrosity into their driveway.
“It's a car.” Spike answered cheekily.
“I know it's a car, dumb ass. I mean what are you going to do with it?”
“Fix it up. We need wheels.” Spike planted the car in the garage and pushed some pieces of wood behind the wheels to secure it.
Will and Buffy surveyed the scene as Spike patted the hood affectionately.
Will walked around the car and lifted said hood, “It doesn't seem to have much of an engine.”
Spike waved a hand dismissively, “Details. With your brain, little brother, we'll have it running in no time.”
Will glared at him. He hated it when his brother implied Will was smarter than he was, “I don't know about no time, but the frame is really sound. We could probably get parts pretty cheaply.”
“Exactly.” Spike grinned, looking exceedingly proud of himself.
Buffy rolled her eyes, “How are you ever going to get this thing on the road? In fact, where did you get it in the first place?”
“Junk yard,” Spike replied easily, “And we can get it running, just you wait.”
Buffy crossed her arms, “Can I help?”
They both blinked at her in surprise.
* * *
| | | | | | | |
| |
|