Title: CakeBy: remember_nomore & gwyddfidChapter: 1 of ?Pairing: Spike/Tara/Lindsey - eventuallyRating: PG-13, NC-17Word Count: 2937Beta: strangecreatureAuthors Notes: Welcome to the first chapter, it's been a wild ride to get here. I hope you all enjoy and feedback is so wonderful. This story would have less meaning without everyone's support.The day was overcast, so much so it even looked likely it might storm. Not too common an event here in good old Sunny D, but it did happen. Either way, overcast was good for him, meant a bloke could step out in daylight, maybe find himself a nice patch of shade to hang about in, catch the going ons of the day, so to speak. ‘Course even thought it broke the monotony - change from sleeping and boozing and Passions - Spike wasn’t too sure if it was worth it. It sure as hell wasn’t earning him any sodding brownie points with the Scoobies, seeing they didn’t even know he was about. Not that he bloody cared about that anyway, although it did make life a might easier for him from time to time. He sighed and stubbed his fag out on the tree, only to pull out his lighter and light another one. Yeah, at least if there’d been a nice blazing sun in the sky he would’ve been able to justify staying in his crypt and drinking himself into a stupor like he usually did these days. Wasn’t though, was he? No, he had to be a glutton for sodding punishment as usual, had to come and join the bloody grief parade, or at least get himself a nice front row seat to watch the proceedings. And front row seat it was because from his safe little vantage point under the big elm near his crypt he could see each and every one of those sodding do-gooders as they stood huddled ‘round the second freshly dug grave in so many months. He couldn’t see the thing itself, or the coffin that was no doubt hovering over it, but he could smell the upturned earth, and the smell of it tickled his nostrils. Like always, it took him back to his own brief time under the damp earth.Seemed so bloody far away from the sham he was living now that it made him want to kill people. “A bloody lot of people,” he muttered to himself, glaring at the black clad group huddled in the distance. The thought crossed his mind that Buffy wouldn’t be too pleased about that little nugget of info, if she’d heard him say it ‘course she wouldn’t would she? Good thing too, because maybe now he’d say things like that a lot more.Harris moved aside a little and once again, thoughts of Spike’s own death ran through his mind. He remembered it like it was yesterday, waking up in that bloody box, being scared out of his mind, slashing at the wood like a madman before his fist cracked through the wood and sunk into the wormy earth above it. He remember how he pulled himself upwards, the earth pressing around him, falling into his gaping mouth and dead lungs as he gasped for unneeded air and then the joy he felt when he reached the surface, and saw the dark angel that was standing there, waiting for him. Most important journey of his life, that.Willow wouldn’t be making that same journey though or anything like it. No she was staying put. Staying put ‘til there was nothing left of her but dust, that was the difference and they all knew it. He’d not been to Buffy’s funeral. No, couldn’t have bloody stomached it, watching them all carry on and even if he had put on a brave face he doubted he’d have been welcome. He knew it would have been different from how it was today though. They would’ve been sad, yeah, angry of course, but there would’ve been something else too; that little spark of hope hiding in the back of their minds, the hope that Red could work her mojo and bring the Slayer back to them. ‘Course, he hadn’t had the luxury of that hope, had he? Because the bloody bratpack hadn’t seen fit to tell him a damn thing about their plans.Probably for the best though, because it didn’t work. Now he was glad he hadn’t been given advance warning because he could see that it was now a hundred times worse than it would have been if they hadn’t tried at all. Not only had they lost the Slayer and Red, but they’d lost their hope too. He saw it on their faces now, as they stared at the coffin that encased Red’s magic addled body as it was lowered jerkily into the earth.They knew it was the end of their merry little band of do-gooders. Just then a sob broke through the pre-storm stillness of the day and Spike saw the Bit stoop over and start for the grave. Before she could throw herself onto it, or something equally bloody melodramatic, Tara caught her and pulled her into her arms. Spike watched as the blonde held her tight and from where he was standing he could almost catch the soothing words the witch was whispering into her ear as she stroked her hair. Spike wondered briefly how much of what she was doing for Dawn was for Dawn’s benefit, and how much was for her own. Hell, it was her girlfriend that was getting the big send off. There was no way to tell either way though, because the girl stood steady, face blank of emotion as she comforted the bit, whispering something a little longer to her that he still couldn’t quite catch.He went to take another drag on his cigarette only to find that it’d burned down and out while he’d stared at the goings on ahead of him. “Bugger this,” he murmured, turning from the scene and walking back to his crypt, being sure to stay under cover of trees even though the day was getting dark and darker. It’d rain soon, he’d wager, he could smell it coming and he really didn’t want to be out in it, whether it was a novelty or not.The only thing he wanted to drown in right that minute was the bottle of Jack in his crypt.
oh awesommee*got lost in all the fics and hadn't managed to get to this one*this looks like its gona be so good..love the way she went after him there hahago tara!
*grins* Ty darlin'. Just have to say that you ain't seen nothin' yet. *g*
yay! im soo happy this is back!! keep it up !!
That was a good story. I'm anxious to find the rest and finish it.