Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

  • Mood:
  • Music:

More fic, because I can't get Andrew-speak out of my head

crazydiamondsue had the funniest comment in my LJ a while back - she mentioned that Andrew was totally writing Spander RPS. It's Real Person because he, you know; was there. HA HA! So what if Andrew wrote fanfic? You *know* he did. And what if he had a spiral notebook to doodle in? You do. You do doodle, too. Let's just pretend that I ripped a few pages out of his notebook and printed them up here for you to read.

For the record, it's a InaYusha pic on the cover of his spiral. This is PG because Andrew would get too squirmy for anything rated higher. :-D Set in the beginning of Season 7 of Buffy the Vampyre (heh) Slayer.


Tales of the Vampyres
By Andrew Wells

The Crew Aboard this Ship:

William the Bloody, aka Spike, aka Scourge of Europe, aka The White, aka Mr. Cool
Alexander Harris, aka Xander, aka Whelp
Buffy Summers, She Who Would Save the World a bunch
The She-Witch, aka Willow, aka The Black Witch, aka a total cheat at Trvial Pursuit and her recent brush with evil makes her untrustworthy- she could totally be magicking the answers
Dawn, The Littlest Sister Who Could, aka The Nice One, she has really pretty hair
Faith, The Dark Slayer, Killer of Vulcanologists (there are tear drops distorting this line and a doodle of Spock next to the name Faith with daggers drawn shooting out of his eyes)
Deanna Troi, Keeper of my very SOUL
how can I put myself in here? Am I the narrator? Yes. No. I am also a warrior.

Our tale begins with the handsome, yet aloof, William the Bloody, although he goes mainly by Spike, because that's a modern name. Pleebs. Stupid Anne Rice ruining things for him... Crap.

*crosses out the above*

Our tale begins with the handsome, yet aloof, Spike. He stands alone against the forces of evil, except when he stands with Buffy, The Vampyre Slayer. You could cut the sexual tension between the two of them with a knife. But their love is not to be. It stands against everything they have worked so hard for. Their bodies strain to touch - and how can the golden Slayer resist the carved marble that is William the Bloody? He's so frickin' cool.

*big, slashing X over the previous paragraph*

Before I can share our tale with you, I must tell you of what has previously happened in Sunnydale. Like a Dark Knight, swirly black cape now a swirly black coat, and instead of a really awesome car with all kinds of gadgets in it, we have a simple, but effective motorcycle. The vehicle of choice for the lonely and determined. Our lone rider? What used to be a man and now is a god a Vampyre with a Soul - Spike. He of the platinum hair. He of the chiseled muscles that appear to be carved from marble. He has a wicked awesome thumb ring. And the ladies love him. How could they resist? Once tortured and confused but now fights the fight for Good... He's like Wolverine, except that Wolverine was never evil and has brown hair. But cool and aloof like Wolverine, yes.

Forces of Darkness are gathering against the band of warriors. Spike and your humble narrator have been given a task - quite possibly the most important task that could turn the tide in our favor. If I fail... If Spike and I fail - the world may be lost to the Dark Side. We climb aboard his motorcycle, after a few minutes of him showing me where to put my feet - I am not Immortal such as he and am afraid of getting burned by the machinery - and he, ever the gentleman that underscores the man that Was, gives me the only helmet. It's a blue football helmet, but the gesture was understood. Spike is a creature that cares for me.

I am amazed how how soft the leather of his coat is against my chin. I didn't expect him to wiggle so much, but when I rest my chin against the buttery-soft black leather coat, it keeps the bugs from hitting my teeth. That part about motorcycles is really gross. And Spike's waist is teeny (A/N: find out if Vampyres exercise - he's seriously cut like Brad Pitt or something - find out and work on a companion piece to this?), so narrow, in fact, that I have to wrap both of my arms around him just to feel like I won't slide of the bike. He lets out a sigh and flexes the muscle in his jaw, his strong, square jaw that offsets the magnificent cheekbones on our Vampyre-hero. It's hard to hear over the wind whistling over and around our bodies, but I think I hear something about him missing his car?

We near our destination. I feel the fluttery flight of panic rising up, like my gorge. Spike lights a new smoke, asks me if I'm ready, and I find my inner cool. (A/N: ooh! I like that.) I take the smoke from him, ignore the rolling of his eyes, take a deep breath and try to stop coughing. After a few minutes, I let him know by my wide-legged stance and narrowed eyes (seriously, that stuff burns) that I'm ready. I walk really close to him in case something awful lies behind the door.

A priest. Is he evil? No. He is just a scared man. You bet he's scared. Standing before him is The Scourge. I wish he would have left his coat on - it's really cool when he walks in and it swirls like a cape. We find out after I interrogate this... "priest" about what he knows. I discover a secret door. And inside this secret door is a wall with WORDS. Only I, He Who Learned Demonology to Fight Against Good, But Became a Mexican and Now Fights for the Good of All Mankind, (A/N: is this way too long? I need a new name) will be able to decipher it's meaning. Only I can help Spike of the White save the world. And Buffy can help us.

Because Spike is still tethered to the laws of the Vampyres, and because the sun is coming up, and we spent a lot of time trying to find this place, but I'm sorry, it didn't look like I remembered on the map, and that is neither here nor there, we are stuck in the church. Trapped. But friends like he and I are never trapped when we are togther. I have to remind him of this several times. I think he kept forgetting because of his concern for getting our valuable information that I alone was able to find to Buffy and the girls.

I explain to him why RISK was so important to my training in strategies. How a vorpal plus three sword isn't enough against a demon like Trogdor. He tells me he wants to focus on my words and their meaning, so he closes his eyes to block out his other senses. That makes sense. I tell him for hours about cool stuff like Dr. Who, why George Lucas, although in many ways is a God, should be slowly tortured by the Demon underworld for creating Jar Jar Binks, and it's amazing that Vampyres look like they are sleeping when their eyes are closed. It's just because they don't breath. He is totally interested in what I'm telling him, and it makes our Warrior bond strong. Stronger than my bond with my former partner. Spike and I continue our mind meld until he shakes himself (it's like, really taxing on your body to do a mind-meld) and tells me it's time to go.

Our ride back to Sunnydale and the others in our crew seems far too short. I tell Spike this and we share a laugh when he says it seemed far too long. I do not know what he means, but he laughs and naturally, I do as well. His power is strong over me. I am his Padawan now, I can feel it. I must stay close and watch him, learn of his ways. I don't think I can smoke, though. I'll have to remember to ask him what he thinks about that...

Buffy, the Golden Slayer, she who took Evil to her bed twice and triumphed (that is seriously hot), has asked Your Humble Narrator to tell the inexperienced Slayers In Training my tales. To tell them of What Is To Come. Because I have walked through the fire of hell and have come back unscathed. But they do not need to know of my travels to Mexico. And so, I am unscathed. Buffy recognizes my importance in this fight. Also, I think she senses the bond between Spike and I and is, like, super jealous. You aren't the only golden one, Miss Thing, and Jedi Knights are not allowed to know the pleasures of a woman. (A/N: I totally need to write a Jedi tale with Spike. He's like Luke. Golden and lost with a Dark Father. That is so awesome.)

The girls listen, enraptured with my tale. With the exception of Kennedy, and man what is her DEAL? She's like Q without the super powers. Ob. Nox. Ious. And obviously not fully trained in the Jedi Arts, because hel-LO! Vulcanologist! I think I am the qualified one here in the room. I'll let that slide, but just the once. If I'm going to join the Forces of Good, I have to develop patience with the children. They are clay for me to mold.

Later, I stand in front of the door to the basement, cheek pressed against the wood, knowing that my Master friend Spike needs his rest. He's integral to the fight, as important as me, and we'll need him at full strength. I need to remember to ask him about dirt from his home land, and if he really needs to sleep on some to regain his power. But he smells so April Fresh...

*a light X crosses out the above paragraph*

I stand there with my cheek pressed against the basement door, feeling Spike's presence on the other side. He rests now, but not for long. I wonder if he can sense me - if he knows I stand at the ready. Yeah, I bet he can. Ours is a bond that trancends this mortal coil. I hear a voice behind me. It is Xander, the Whelp. Xander the Loyal, but to the Wrong Party. Well, Buffy is cool, she's a super hero and all, but Xander can't see that Spike stands for the White now. And I correct him that I am NOT a minion, but that Spike and I are partners - that we need each other. Poor, poor Whelp-boy. (A/N: Oooh. That's good. That's a cool new name for him.) So lost and alone, so directionless.

He asks if that is my Game Boy on the kitchen counter. I assure him that it is. Unless it didn't have the Sailor Moon sticker on the back, in which case it belongs to the Other. He looks at me, assessing my strength, I suspect, and then asks if he can borrow it. I wave my hand at him, and tell him material things matter not, but he needs to put new batteries in it when he's done because I don't want to be in the middle of gaming and have a power drain ruin the greatest score ever. He turns and leaves. Simple, simple Xander. Probably just wants to play Tetris or something. He is simple, but Loyal. Like a dog. But he knows Marvel like the back of his hand, and therefore, I may have use for him. I wonder if he ever collected the Marvel Univese trading cards? Waiting around for evil to strike can get boring. I will eat of the Hot Pockets and I will challenge him to a game of Trivial Pursuit, but we will not invite The Witch to play because she cheats.

And so it is in the house of Buffy, waiting for Evil to come upon us, where we will rise victoriously from the ashes, Slayer, Vampyre, and I. And the others upon who's backs we stand.

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →
← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →