FIC: Cats and Dogs (Tara/Spike - PG-13)
Oct. 24th, 2003 05:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
estepheiaIf you were me and your kids had just been picked up by a friend for a sleep over that effectively keeps them out of your hair until lunchtime tomorrow, would you
a) sit at the computer and finish your Spike/Tara story Cats and Dogs
b) grab your hubby and rush off to the Japanes restaurant to use up the dinner voucher that's been burning a hole into your pocket for almost two months
c) grab your hubby for a bit of rumpy pumpy
d) grab your hubby to go to a movie?
Sorry guys, but I'm going with b, c, and d, not necessarily in that order. :-)
But I'm posting the first half of my contribution for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spiketara Cats and Dogs challenge now:
Cats and Dogs
PAIRING: Tara/Spike
RATING: PG-13 so far
SPOILERS: none
SUMMARY: this is an AU in which Warren killed Buffy instead of Tara.
"Can't say I ever liked cats," his voice came from behind her. "Always been more of a dog person."
At his wistful tone, Tara turned her head as far as it would go, to take a peek at his face, but Spike was looking the other way, restlessly scanning their surroundings. Was the small-talk supposed to make her feel at ease? Cause if that's what his comment was all about, well, it wasn't working. Her heart was fluttering inside her chest like a panicked bird in its cage.
Maybe Spike was nervous too. He tended to get talkative when agitated, the soul hadn't changed that, even though it had muted him in so many ways. Maybe that's why he was actually talking to her instead of flinging curses into the night and making her ears burn.
"I like both, cats and dogs," she finally told him, when the silence dragged on uncomfortably.
"Yeah, you would, Miss Nightingale," Spike snickered. "All creatures great 'n small, ain't that right?"
"As long as they don't try to… you know, eat me."
Spike's answer was a snort.
"A dog's loyal. Treat'm right an' he's yours forever." Spike continued after a while. "Gotta respect that."
"We always had dogs on the farm, and one or two cats," Tara said.
"Lemme guess. From what I've seen of your old man I'm thinking something big and nasty, trained to heel at the snap of his fingers, making him feel manly and all. Doberman or German shepherd dog?"
"Bloodhounds. Pa likes to go hunting."
"Figures." Spike muttered and fell silent.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Tara watched the four tiger-sized creatures that were silently prowling around them, in circles that were less than ten yards in diameter. Occasionally, one of the striped beasts stopped to regard them hungrily, pink tongue curling behind fangs that could fill a vampire with envy. They looked exactly like huge cats, only instead of fur they had scaly crocodile-skin.
The only thing that kept the beasts from tearing into the helpless prisoners was the glowing circle of purple light that surrounded the site of sacrifice.
"What's takin' her so long, for Christ's sake?"
"I'm sure Willow and Kennedy are doing everything they can to find us."
"Yeah, stopping every 5 yards for a snog, I bet. Someone ought to light a bonfire under their arses, that should speed matters up nicely."
Tara ignored the tiny pinprick of loss at the image Spike's word conjured, and wriggled her fingers, trying to keep the circulation going, but her hands were starting to feel chilly and less nimble. The coarse hemp of the rope round her wrists chafed and pricked her skin. But the enchantment on it was even more painful, dulling her magic to an extent that it made her feel empty inside, as if someone had scooped out a part of her, leaving her an empty, aching husk.
"What about you?" she asked, desperate to hear his voice.
"What?"
"Did you ever have a dog?"
"Ate a few in my time, some of 'em with chop sticks."
"You know that's not what I meant, Spike. So, did you… did you have a dog when you were alive?" As the words came out, Tara realized that this was the first time she'd ever asked Spike about his past.
"If I move over, pet, d'you think you can reach into my pants?" Spike changed the subject.
"What?" Tara could feel the hot prickle of a blush wash over her face.
"My pocket. See if you can get the lighter out."
"Oh, uh… I-I can try."
Spike edged closer, inch by inch, bending and twisting as far as the rope would let him, until his denim-clad hip brushed against her fingers. Tara went through a similar pantomime, trying to get her fingers into place. She had to rely on touch because the way they were tied to the stone pillar she couldn't see her fingers. Spike's pants were … wow, talk about tight. Did he spray them on? Tara blindly groped around, hoping to locate the hard form of the lighter and follow its shape to the opening of his pocket. There. It. Was.
"Uh… pet?"
Tara froze, fingertips resting lightly on a hard object that was straining against the rough denim. "This isn't your lighter, is it, Spike?"
"Uh no. Not exactly. Although it's been known to light a few fires."
Spike's amused chuckle only added to her intense discomfort. Embarrassed beyond words, Tara let go, cheeks burning.
"Sorry pet, didn't mean to scar you for life."
Tara lifted her chin. "You know what's funny, Spike? I--I was just going to say the same thing."
Tara had never heard Spike laugh before, not even when he'd still been evil or almost-evil. At least not with genuine mirth. And later, after his return from Africa, souled, guilt-ridden, and devastated by Buffy's death, there had been very little cause for laughter. But now he guffawed.
"An' here I was, thinking this only happens in movies."
TBC
a) sit at the computer and finish your Spike/Tara story Cats and Dogs
b) grab your hubby and rush off to the Japanes restaurant to use up the dinner voucher that's been burning a hole into your pocket for almost two months
c) grab your hubby for a bit of rumpy pumpy
d) grab your hubby to go to a movie?
Sorry guys, but I'm going with b, c, and d, not necessarily in that order. :-)
But I'm posting the first half of my contribution for the
spiketara Cats and Dogs challenge now:Cats and Dogs
PAIRING: Tara/Spike
RATING: PG-13 so far
SPOILERS: none
SUMMARY: this is an AU in which Warren killed Buffy instead of Tara.
"Can't say I ever liked cats," his voice came from behind her. "Always been more of a dog person."
At his wistful tone, Tara turned her head as far as it would go, to take a peek at his face, but Spike was looking the other way, restlessly scanning their surroundings. Was the small-talk supposed to make her feel at ease? Cause if that's what his comment was all about, well, it wasn't working. Her heart was fluttering inside her chest like a panicked bird in its cage.
Maybe Spike was nervous too. He tended to get talkative when agitated, the soul hadn't changed that, even though it had muted him in so many ways. Maybe that's why he was actually talking to her instead of flinging curses into the night and making her ears burn.
"I like both, cats and dogs," she finally told him, when the silence dragged on uncomfortably.
"Yeah, you would, Miss Nightingale," Spike snickered. "All creatures great 'n small, ain't that right?"
"As long as they don't try to… you know, eat me."
Spike's answer was a snort.
"A dog's loyal. Treat'm right an' he's yours forever." Spike continued after a while. "Gotta respect that."
"We always had dogs on the farm, and one or two cats," Tara said.
"Lemme guess. From what I've seen of your old man I'm thinking something big and nasty, trained to heel at the snap of his fingers, making him feel manly and all. Doberman or German shepherd dog?"
"Bloodhounds. Pa likes to go hunting."
"Figures." Spike muttered and fell silent.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Tara watched the four tiger-sized creatures that were silently prowling around them, in circles that were less than ten yards in diameter. Occasionally, one of the striped beasts stopped to regard them hungrily, pink tongue curling behind fangs that could fill a vampire with envy. They looked exactly like huge cats, only instead of fur they had scaly crocodile-skin.
The only thing that kept the beasts from tearing into the helpless prisoners was the glowing circle of purple light that surrounded the site of sacrifice.
"What's takin' her so long, for Christ's sake?"
"I'm sure Willow and Kennedy are doing everything they can to find us."
"Yeah, stopping every 5 yards for a snog, I bet. Someone ought to light a bonfire under their arses, that should speed matters up nicely."
Tara ignored the tiny pinprick of loss at the image Spike's word conjured, and wriggled her fingers, trying to keep the circulation going, but her hands were starting to feel chilly and less nimble. The coarse hemp of the rope round her wrists chafed and pricked her skin. But the enchantment on it was even more painful, dulling her magic to an extent that it made her feel empty inside, as if someone had scooped out a part of her, leaving her an empty, aching husk.
"What about you?" she asked, desperate to hear his voice.
"What?"
"Did you ever have a dog?"
"Ate a few in my time, some of 'em with chop sticks."
"You know that's not what I meant, Spike. So, did you… did you have a dog when you were alive?" As the words came out, Tara realized that this was the first time she'd ever asked Spike about his past.
"If I move over, pet, d'you think you can reach into my pants?" Spike changed the subject.
"What?" Tara could feel the hot prickle of a blush wash over her face.
"My pocket. See if you can get the lighter out."
"Oh, uh… I-I can try."
Spike edged closer, inch by inch, bending and twisting as far as the rope would let him, until his denim-clad hip brushed against her fingers. Tara went through a similar pantomime, trying to get her fingers into place. She had to rely on touch because the way they were tied to the stone pillar she couldn't see her fingers. Spike's pants were … wow, talk about tight. Did he spray them on? Tara blindly groped around, hoping to locate the hard form of the lighter and follow its shape to the opening of his pocket. There. It. Was.
"Uh… pet?"
Tara froze, fingertips resting lightly on a hard object that was straining against the rough denim. "This isn't your lighter, is it, Spike?"
"Uh no. Not exactly. Although it's been known to light a few fires."
Spike's amused chuckle only added to her intense discomfort. Embarrassed beyond words, Tara let go, cheeks burning.
"Sorry pet, didn't mean to scar you for life."
Tara lifted her chin. "You know what's funny, Spike? I--I was just going to say the same thing."
Tara had never heard Spike laugh before, not even when he'd still been evil or almost-evil. At least not with genuine mirth. And later, after his return from Africa, souled, guilt-ridden, and devastated by Buffy's death, there had been very little cause for laughter. But now he guffawed.
"An' here I was, thinking this only happens in movies."
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-26 09:25 am (UTC)Part 2 is posted and there will be a third part. Hopefully, it won't take long to get this one done.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-26 10:28 pm (UTC)