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Prompt #1 Seeking the Light(er)-Teen

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Prompt #1 Seeking the Light(er)-Teen

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taming the muse
Leaping in where angels fear to tread....I present my first story for your esteemed consideration:

Title: Seeking the Light(er)
Author:
SunnyD_lite
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Prompt: Pickpocket
Warnings: Mention of kinks, strong language Spike/Buffy
Rating: Teen
Set: After Gone, before Dead Things
Word Count: 668
A/N: Thanks to a rapid beta by desoto_hia873
Summary: There is a scene in Gone where Spike retrieves his lighter from Buffy's jean front pocket. That was the inspiration for this piece. After one of their sessions, Spike looks for a missing lighter.


Fuck bloody fuck.

Spike worked in a circular search and rescue pattern starting at the bed and working outward through the debris of tossed covers and torn clothing - all were his, he noted sourly.

Slayer played a wild game -- bloody wore him ragged then raced off as if pursued by the hounds of hell. Scratch that. He'd heard stories of her chasing hellhounds or some such.

The girl did twist every rule going, including rising from the dead even if it had taken more than the church-sanctioned three days. FUCK! He must really need a fag if his C of E training was leaking through.

Where the hell was his lighter?

Last he saw of it, Slayer was using it on a candle. Wax play. His vanilla little Slayer was sampling all of the thirty-wonderful kinks she could think of, and a few more that he'd suggested.

Where the fuck was his lighter?

A thought wormed its way to the surface. She'd held it before.

He slammed it down, but not fast enough.

Sodding romantic William.

He'd thought that they'd form a connection, that she could be herself--her full self--with him.

But the more they connected, the further away she got.

*Dirty little secret*

He'd only found out about her job because Niblet had been so worried, even if she was looking forward to the free burgers. When he had dropped by, her only reaction was resignation.

It was killing her, all of it.

And the old cures weren't working.

Where the bloody hell was that lighter? With a sudden jerk, he tossed the bed on its side and glared at the JD bottles, an old Cosmo--must have been Harm's--lace panties, and a glint of silver that caught his eye.

Ah ha!

Or not.

Watching the handcuffs swinging off his finger, he sat leaning against the upturned bed swigging the dregs out of the various bottles he'd found. Plan A hadn't worked, time to try something else.

The Slayer was back, the demon community knew that for bloody sure. As much fun as their summer camp had been, an aged Watcher, two witches, a shop girl, and a carpenter were no equal to a Slayer, even with his and that thing's help.

He'd tried to shield Niblet from the bits of Bot that night. He'd tried to shield himself as well, because as much as he'd hated it, it was still a piece of her. Hadn't realized that pieces were all he would ever get. Only the bits she wouldn't show her friends. Her family.

Still didn't have his sodding lighter.

Messy as it was, he knew his crypt. Maybe he should give sweet Willie his due on that thought. But normally one only kept trophies of things they were proud of.

Their time together, what did it mean to her? Flesh pounding flesh, a guaranteed endorphin rush? A bit of fun? A rebellion?

Or a place without censure, where she could just be? "I can be alone with you here," she'd said, when her friends were too much. And how often did she get that chance? Not to be big sis, or slayer, or breadwinner? No expectations, no role to fill--just to be.

How ruddy Zen--or was that Tao? He'd never bothered much with Chinese anything, though Szechwan had some nice kick to its spicing, not as good as a vindaloo and he'd kill for a good curry...he'd killed for much less.

She was killing him.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

Last time, he'd left it behind, and found in it her pocket. Looks like this time, she'd nicked it. At least he knew where that lighter was.

This Slayer had twisted all the rules. Got him playing for the side of the angels against Angelus, didn't she? How many vamps can say they've saved the world? How many would bloody want to?

New game then.

Time to get his lighter back.

And he knew just the pocket to pick.
  • *grins* I liked this one. I can just see Spike standing in his crypt, musing, while every so often glaring around the room in search of his lighter. ^_^ There's a bit of a somber thought to this one, but at the same time, there's tiny interjections of humor that keep is smooth and awesome. Well done!

    ~Nebula
    • Spike does like to glare! Glad that the two levels of his thoughts come through clearly. Darn subconscious knows more than Spike wants it to, I think.

      Thank you for the very quick and complimentary feedback, does a writer good it does!
  • this was a very visual piece, it was easy to see Spike searching his crypt and how his thoughts reflected the clutter as well.
  • Brilliant. This fit Spike's personality to a T. I love how random it seems, but there is tha tundercurrent of plot: i.e. where is his lighter? Heh.
    • Not the most earth-shattering of plots, but a plot none-the-less. Thank you!!
      This fits Spike's personality to a T. Thank you. He was the first character to take up residence in my brain. I'm pleased he's still living there!
  • You've really caught the dispair of canon here. I really love how the lighter symbolizes everything between them... Spike *needs* it and Buffy takes it because of some need she probably doesn't even understand. Two wounded people--perfectly heartbreaking. And I love the hope at the end that Spike is ready to end this destructive game.

    One thing... "C of E training" I doubt many readers will know this one... you might just want to say Church of England.
    • Thank you so much for the generous feedback. I'm going to give my readers some credit as Church of England does negate the flow of his thoughts, but I might add it as c_woodhaven suggested as an author's note. Thank you again for both the comments and the community in which to play!
  • This was a fantastic glimpse into the cluttered mind as he searched for his lighter, looking through the debris of his life...the symbolism is rich and varied, as are the emotions pictured here...excellent effort!
    • Seeking the Light(er)

      *sits back to bask in glow from comment* *then adds SFP 30* Thank you for the insightful and generous comments!
  • (no subject) - c_woodhaven
    • Seeking the Light(er)

      As this is the only Spike nailing going on, I'm so glad it worked for you! Thanks for your suggestion re CofE!
  • *grin*

    I love the characterisation of Spike here. you get into his head and the whirlwinded-ness of his thought proceses works perfectly.
    • Seeking the Light(er)

      Ahh thanks, the whirlwinded-ness of his thought process Yup, he's my little ADD vamp. Very intelligent, able to focus tightly on things for nano seconds at a time!
  • Wow!

    I could only aspire to write Spike so well. That was beautifully captured and well written! I loved it!

    SR
    • Re: Wow!

      oh my, a WOW! Thank you so much for your generous comments! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!
  • This was great and I have a HUGE kink for that lighter. I loved this couplet of lines:

    It was killing her, all of it.

    And the old cures weren't working.


    Awesome.
    • Oh linequotage! From someone willing to follow linkes! *squee*
      yup that lighter has turned up in many a fic of mine! Glad you enjoyed it and thank you for both linking and commenting!
  • "I can be alone with you here," she'd said, when her friends were too much. And how often did she get that chance?

    I love the expansion of that moment from the show that I loved so much. And great way of describing what he's trying to give to her, trying to let her have, whatever the cost to himself.

    ...and he'd kill for a good curry...he'd killed for much less.

    Wow, that's a line I'm sure to remember.

    Great romping through Spike's head kind of fun from beginning to succinct end.
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