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Fic : Sweet Thing, You Make My Heart Sing (15 for language)

December 14th, 2004 (02:23 am)
creative

current mood: creative

Title : Sweet Thing, You Make My Heart Sing
Author : Booster
Rating : PG-13
Summary : Spike suddenly starts singing out loud again. He’s not happy about it. At all.
Disclaimer : Buffy and the gang belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Setting : Set directly after Season six’s Dead Things.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, FanFiction.Net; If anyone else wants it, just email and ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.


***************************

Spike limped through the woodland surrounding his crypt. Almost at the cemetery now, and then he could rest. See what Buffy had done to him outside the police station. At least he’d seen her walk back out almost instantly, so she couldn’t be that badly off. Gently he probed the myriad pains and bruises on his body.

Absentmindedly, he started to sing as he pushed his way through the undergrowth.

“My love, she beats me black and blue
Oh oh oh, it’s a Slayer thing
She’ll just punch me or break my jaw
Oh oh oh, it’s a Slayer thing”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh hell, no!” he swore, and cast a careful look around the forest. Suddenly he dived into a nearby bush, and came out clutching a small round bright red demon about two feet in height.

Dangling it upside down by one short and hairy leg, Spike regarded it carefully. Using his free hand to place a cigarette in his mouth, he said “Alright, so what the hell is going on here, sunshine? Spill yer guts, or I spill ‘em for you”.

For some reason, the frenzied struggles increased at this. Eventually, it became clear that Spike was not going to let go, and they stopped. Somehow, the demon managed to rotate itself around to face Spike and a very embarrassed looking smile appeared. “Um… Hi?” it said.

Spike blew a cloud of smoke into what he assumed was the face. “No. More. Singing. Ok?” he asked in what he considered to be a very pleasant tone. “Had quite enough of that with Sweet.”

He paused. Hello - Did that thing just twitch when he said Sweet?

“You know Sweet?”

Definite twitch. “Tall demon, blue suit, likes to sing a lot? Ring any bells, mate?”

The grin was edging towards a particularly cheesy, slightly worried one. “Ah… I might have heard of him….”

Spike quickly short-circuited that line of bullshit by stubbing out his cigarette on a particularly hairy part of the demon, close to what he presumed was the groin area.

“Ahhhh! Oh, that Sweet!” babbled the demon. “Nice guy, rules his own netherworld, makes people sing, I decided to copy him and make my way up….oh. Oh shit.” He tried to smile again, but this time the strain was definitely showing.

“Let me get this straight,” said Spike wearily, “You’re basically a mini-Sweet.”

The demon nodded furiously, “Bringing fun and music out from everyone’s hearts. Any chance you could put me down now?”

Spike rubbed his aching forehead. “So why was I singing along to U-bloody-2 then?”

“Eh, well, there’s a funny story there,” the demon said, trying to shrug his arms, “I’m only a young Kosloth, so the best I can do is um….well… Karaoke.”

Spike lost it at that. “For fuck’s sake! You bloody pillock! Don’t even think of ever come back here again!”, and threw the Kosloth up in the air. Suddenly aware of two figures approaching him from behind, he still waited until the Kosloth fell lower – and kicked it violently between the legs propelling it far, far away. All that time following Man U had been worth it after all.

Then, straightening his duster, and turning round with a sneer ready on his lips, he was greeted by Willow and Tara applauding. He blinked. Not quite what he’d been expecting.

“Um…” started Tara, hesitatingly. “Was that the thing that just made us sing again?”

His eyebrow quirked. “You too?”

Willow blushed. “We just met up by accident in town, and then found ourselves murdering Queen by singing ‘It’s kinda tragic’.”

“Well, don’t think it’ll be coming back any time soon, “ smirked Spike. “Now if you ladies will excuse me…” He tried to limp away, but was stopped by an arm on him.

“But you’re injured, Spike…Oh Goddess, just look at those cuts and bruises,” said Tara delicately touching his battered face.

“Oh that… but that was.. I mean… It was nothing,” said Spike struck by a sudden inspiration. “The demon thingie was a right vicious sod, all claws and stuff, but I stopped it alright.”

He shook himself free of Tara’s grasp, and added a rather realistic quiver to his voice “I’ll be okay by meself. You don’t have to worry..”

“Rubbish!” declared Willow firmly. “That thing was a pain to us, but you’re really beaten up. The least we can do is look after you for the night.”

Tara lined up next to Willow, arms folded, and her face set in a miniature version of Willow’s famed Resolve Face. “And we’re not going to take no for an answer either.”

“Well,” said Spike consideringly, “Guess there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

“Nope!” said Willow, taking one arm while Tara took the other, “We’re going to make sure you’re better.”

“Under protest, mind you,” said Spike, strolling off with the two witches, remembering to add a stumble every now and then. “This sort of thing could seriously damage a Big Bad’s reputation.”


End.

Comments

Posted by: uninvitedCat (uninvitedcat)
Posted at: December 14th, 2004 12:22 am (UTC)

:smirk: Lovely! :applauds:

1 Read Comments