FIC: On A Winter Night (Spike/Herbert, PG)
Apr. 6th, 2006 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
winterFirst of all, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fyrie wrote a prequel to her Tanz/Buffy stories. As Aught of Mortal Birth, in which Herbert is delightfully wicked beyond belief.
Second, onciciaye's prompting I've committed a short story in fyrie's aforementioned sandbox. Herbert+Spike=OTP^infinity.
ON A WINTER NIGHT
written by Beth
characters and settings created byfyrie based on the creations of Joss Whedon and Roman Polanski
If life were fair, the winter stars would be weeping with him in sympathy. His life being what it was, the buggers just twinkled.
Spike curled his arms tighter around himself as he hunched over the railing of the terrace. In an act of defiance, he had thrown on one of his oldest t-shirts and the leather coat, but with each gust of wind and snow thrown his way by the Romanian winter, he found himself wishing for one of Herbert's soft cashmere jumpers. Not that he needed them. But it'd be nice.
Just as it'd be nice for the wanker himself to show his face around, today of all days, he thought. He held on to the shard of anger, trusting it to tide him over the bout of existential melancholy. Stars weeping, indeed; he was worse than sodding Angel.
He'd left the terrace door open, and now he heard two sets of footsteps and a faint voice. "-came out here as soon as it turned dark. He won't tell me what it's all about. I told him I'd kick his ass, but he just kinda slumped and brooded at me more, so fresh out of options here."
Nibblet, bless her heart, and she'd probably dragged the boss down to check up on him. Spike realised he didn't mind that thought much. Hell, if he pretended this was another attack of pathetic post-LA angst, he might even get a pity fuck out of it. Would be nice.
Then slim, strong fingers were lifting his chin, and he knew even before he saw grey eyes instead of dark.
"William, cheri?" Dawn had to have ambushed Herbert straight in the garage, since the older vampire was still wearing driving gloves. "I leave for barely a day, and you choose that moment to brood this way?"
Spike grunted and turned his face away. Or tried to, since Herbert was holding his jaw firmly.
"William, I can't help if I don't know what it's about."
He just hated it when Herbert got on with that reasonable tone. "Yes, you do." And then, because telling Herbie the truth had become habit, "'s not that important, so I guess you forgot."
Herbert stared at him for a moment with unseeing eyes. Spike sighed. It didn't matter anyway. He was a stupid sod for expecting anyone but himself to remember, or care.
Then he yelped as he was backwards over the railing and firmly kissed.
"What time is it?" Herbert demanded briskly as he set the younger vampire back on his feet.
Spike swallowed, then remembered there were other uses for his mouth. "Eleven, I think. Heard the clock strike a while ago."
"Then we still have time." Herbert ran his hand down Spike's chest, giving the coat a disdainful look. "You, darling, will go to my room and change to something warmer. I shall get supplies and let Father know. We'll meet in the garage in ten minutes."
Spike gaped. "Where are we going?"
"There's a church in the village, desecrated by those awful Socialist brutes." Herbert smiled wickedly. "I thought we'd have a picnic."
Shrugging, Spike decided that Herbert had had worse plans to cheer him up. He let himself be steered from the terrace back to the library, then stopped when he realised Herbert's hand was no longer at the small of his back.
The golden-haired vampire twirled on his heel and all but lunged at the poetry section, removing two volumes from various shelves. Both books were tossed to Spike, who caught them and looked at them with disbelief.
Rimbaud's Illuminations and a volume of Byron that was all too familiar.
"You remembered!"
With the familiar dizzying speed, Herbert was in front of Spike again, his lips smiling but his eyes uncharacteristically serious. "You have my promise, William: I shall not forget again."
FIN
fyrie wrote a prequel to her Tanz/Buffy stories. As Aught of Mortal Birth, in which Herbert is delightfully wicked beyond belief.Second, on
ciciaye's prompting I've committed a short story in fyrie's aforementioned sandbox. Herbert+Spike=OTP^infinity.ON A WINTER NIGHT
written by Beth
characters and settings created by
fyrie based on the creations of Joss Whedon and Roman PolanskiIf life were fair, the winter stars would be weeping with him in sympathy. His life being what it was, the buggers just twinkled.
Spike curled his arms tighter around himself as he hunched over the railing of the terrace. In an act of defiance, he had thrown on one of his oldest t-shirts and the leather coat, but with each gust of wind and snow thrown his way by the Romanian winter, he found himself wishing for one of Herbert's soft cashmere jumpers. Not that he needed them. But it'd be nice.
Just as it'd be nice for the wanker himself to show his face around, today of all days, he thought. He held on to the shard of anger, trusting it to tide him over the bout of existential melancholy. Stars weeping, indeed; he was worse than sodding Angel.
He'd left the terrace door open, and now he heard two sets of footsteps and a faint voice. "-came out here as soon as it turned dark. He won't tell me what it's all about. I told him I'd kick his ass, but he just kinda slumped and brooded at me more, so fresh out of options here."
Nibblet, bless her heart, and she'd probably dragged the boss down to check up on him. Spike realised he didn't mind that thought much. Hell, if he pretended this was another attack of pathetic post-LA angst, he might even get a pity fuck out of it. Would be nice.
Then slim, strong fingers were lifting his chin, and he knew even before he saw grey eyes instead of dark.
"William, cheri?" Dawn had to have ambushed Herbert straight in the garage, since the older vampire was still wearing driving gloves. "I leave for barely a day, and you choose that moment to brood this way?"
Spike grunted and turned his face away. Or tried to, since Herbert was holding his jaw firmly.
"William, I can't help if I don't know what it's about."
He just hated it when Herbert got on with that reasonable tone. "Yes, you do." And then, because telling Herbie the truth had become habit, "'s not that important, so I guess you forgot."
Herbert stared at him for a moment with unseeing eyes. Spike sighed. It didn't matter anyway. He was a stupid sod for expecting anyone but himself to remember, or care.
Then he yelped as he was backwards over the railing and firmly kissed.
"What time is it?" Herbert demanded briskly as he set the younger vampire back on his feet.
Spike swallowed, then remembered there were other uses for his mouth. "Eleven, I think. Heard the clock strike a while ago."
"Then we still have time." Herbert ran his hand down Spike's chest, giving the coat a disdainful look. "You, darling, will go to my room and change to something warmer. I shall get supplies and let Father know. We'll meet in the garage in ten minutes."
Spike gaped. "Where are we going?"
"There's a church in the village, desecrated by those awful Socialist brutes." Herbert smiled wickedly. "I thought we'd have a picnic."
Shrugging, Spike decided that Herbert had had worse plans to cheer him up. He let himself be steered from the terrace back to the library, then stopped when he realised Herbert's hand was no longer at the small of his back.
The golden-haired vampire twirled on his heel and all but lunged at the poetry section, removing two volumes from various shelves. Both books were tossed to Spike, who caught them and looked at them with disbelief.
Rimbaud's Illuminations and a volume of Byron that was all too familiar.
"You remembered!"
With the familiar dizzying speed, Herbert was in front of Spike again, his lips smiling but his eyes uncharacteristically serious. "You have my promise, William: I shall not forget again."
FIN
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 11:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 11:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 11:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:45 pm (UTC)(Honestly. And here I thought Vlad and Gabriel got sappy at times with the starcrossed love thing...)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 12:59 pm (UTC)Lovely!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:04 pm (UTC)*cuddles and pets Spike*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:14 pm (UTC)Excellent stuff! :-)
CCA
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-06 01:29 pm (UTC)Very much so!
(You know, I've just had a vision of VK saying those words to Dawn...probably with a twinkle in his eye *g*)
CCA