The Mezzanine (deird1) wrote,
The Mezzanine

Why Some Slayers Need Time, & Stupid Vampires Who Don’t Contact Them Are Just Going To Have To Wait

Here's a fic I wrote for the "love" prompt at still_grrr.

It's a post-series Buffy/Spike story.

Why Some Slayers Need Time, and Stupid Vampires Who Don’t Contact Them Are Just Going To Have To Wait

Five days, eleven hours, and eight minutes. That’s how long it takes before Andrew cracks and emails Dawn.

There’s something else I found out while I was in L.A…

It takes two hours and forty-seven minutes for Dawn to email him back.

>>>alive and working with Angel

Wait – what do you mean “alive”? Not burned up? Not a vampire? Not…

And then six minutes for Andrew (who had been waiting impatiently) to reply.

>>>What are you going to tell Buffy?

That’s the dilemma! As the El Supremo, she should be fully appraised of the situation. But I gave Spike my Solemn Word that…

It takes them twelve more emails (and twenty-nine hours) to work out what they’re going to do.

>>>>>>>>>you should just tell her.

>>>>>>Can’t you? The Slayer’s sister is much more likely
>>>>>>to break the news appropriately and check that

>>>Much less likely to be killed for not telling
>>>her right away, you mean?

Well, yeah…

It takes nine days, six hours, and thirty-three minutes for Dawn to figure out the best way of telling Buffy.

“So, you know how you totally hate surprises?”

Eighteen minutes for Buffy to stop completely freaking out.

“…stupid, short, ridiculous guy who should actually tell me things!” A sigh. “Vampires suck. I need a drink.”

And another two days, one hour, and fifty-five minutes for her to reach a decision.

“You’re not going to contact him at all?”

“Nope. Well, not yet. No.”


“He needs time, Dawnie. Time and space.”

“And then he can put them together and form a continuum…”


After that, it takes four weeks, six days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes before Buffy finally breaks up with the Immortal, once and for all.

“But, my love, my bella…”

Then three hours and forty-one minutes for her to confess to Dawn that it had been coming for a while (approximately five weeks, one day, and fifteen hours), and his habit of ordering for her in restaurants had been getting on her nerves.

“Heh. I knew it. Plus, he had really horrible taste in shirts.”

“I dunno, I kinda liked them…”

It’s another three weeks, three days, twenty-seven hours, and eight minutes before she admits to herself that not contacting Spike is less to do with giving him space and more because she doesn’t want to talk to him yet.

…Mainly because he’s dumb. And I’m over him – so there’s no point rehashing old stuff that we’re both finished with. Plus, if he’s not going to contact me, why should I have to make the…

Another week, six hours, and thirty-two minutes before she gives up on convincing herself that he’s stupid, ugly, ridiculous, completely wrong for her, and she totally doesn’t miss him.

…but he’s still annoying. Very annoying.

And then five days, eighteen hours, and three minutes before she realises what the problem is.

“You’re scared? Seriously?”

“It’s complicated, Dawn.”

“Uh-huh. You know, you guys have both been saying that to me for four years, now. How on earth can you be scared? You love him, he loves you…”

“It’s not that simple.”

“So punch him in the nose. That’ll simplify things.”

It takes a week, two days, nine hours, and fifty-one minutes before Buffy perfects her response to anyone asking about her love-life.

Relaxed smile. “I’m enjoying being by myself right now. Getting to know Buffy.” Then sigh, with exaggerated tiredness. “Plus, have you seen how busy I am?”

And another three days, seven hours, and fourteen minutes before she stops sternly saying “I’m moving on” to her reflection every time she passes a mirror.

…It’s not like I’m pining. I mean, yes, I miss him, but that’s no reason to get all mopey. I don’t need to see him.

Why do these entries keep ending up about Spike? It makes it look like I’m obsessing – and I’m really not. It’s just that yesterday I…

And that’s the end of that.

Until two weeks, one day, sixteen hours, and twenty-eight minutes later, when she gets a call from Angel.

“…half of downtown in ruins, but we all survived, so I’m calling it a victory.”

“You all survived? What about Spike?”

“Oh, you… you know about that? Oh, um… Well, yes, he’s been working with me, and that’s… well, actually he wasn’t working so much as–”

Angel! Is. Spike. Alive.”

It takes fourteen minutes for her to book a flight to L.A.
Fifteen hours and thirty-six minutes to get to him.
And four seconds to sort out all their issues.

“Miss me, Slayer?”

“Not even at all.”


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