knightsoflegend | CLOSED ♔ YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE

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CLOSED ♔ YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE

WHO || Buffy Summers & Spike
WHAT || Buffy and Spike play more Mario Kart
WHERE || Knights HQ, Game Room
WHEN || July 30
HOW || Prose

A girl like Buffy shouldn't have been spending the sunnier part of a summer day inside. And she hadn't been -- for most of it. She'd had plenty of hang around outside and enjoy the sun time. It was just that, well, it was muggy and gross and the sun wasn't even that sunny, more of a partly cloudy, and who ever thought England was that great anyway? Even when it wasn't foggy, it was icky in one way or another.

Anyway. She'd wound up inside, pacing the halls, restless, and found her way to Spike's door. We're not discussing how she knew which bedroom was his. Theirs is a forbidden love. She hung around outside of it for what felt like a great long while, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek, warring with herself.

He was probably sleeping was the primary excuse she used to try and convince herself not to knock. It was better than addressing the million other actual reasons she might not have wanted to, like the fact that even when they were friends it felt baggage-y. And it did nothing for the twitchy feeling in her spine and she was starting to think it was just ... Spike-sense. Which was a whole 'nother ballpark of don't wanna acknowledge.

She reached out decisively and rapped her knuckles on his door with a few hurried knocks.

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"Free samples? Can think of worse deals." He hoisted himself onto the counter. The Weetabix gave his blood a nice crunch between sips. "I saw a tv show like that once. Only I think the blood was fake." He hadn't paid much attention to the parts that weren't softcore porn, but he'd remembered that bit because it seemed so unlikely to him. Like fake blood could do what real blood did for vampires. It wouldn't work.

"Why bother making fake blood? I mean, there's enough animals slaughtered to make human food, you'd be better off just draining it from them." This is quite possibly the grossest conversation she's ever had. And it shows on her face. She takes another bite regardless, then tosses the apple core into the trash. "How does that work, anyway? 'Fake blood.' If they can make that, shouldn't they use it for transfusions?"

"I don't think it's a real thing." He took another swig from his mug, chewing and swallowing the Weetabix. If he let them sit for too long, they'd get soggy. He glanced over at Buffy, frowning. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want. It's not really polite conversation for most, I'd wager."

"I'm not most." She replied nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. She didn't love the topic, for obvious reasons, but it was Spike. It was part of who he was, and it wasn't something she was just going to ignore. She may not have embraced the demon parts of him, but ignoring them wasn't the right answer, either.

Still. If he was gonna give her the out.

"Have you talked to Martha about the brain scan yet?"

She may have accepted the subject change, but just the statement, and the way she said it, made him smile briefly. This was the girl whose friendship he'd thought he'd lost when his secret came out. Now she was chatting blood with him and hanging out with him while he ate.

"Yeah. She said she'd help."

"Oh. Great." There wasn't particular enthusiasm in her words, mostly because she was a little uneasy with what Martha might find. With what Spike might expect out of her. But that was neither here nor there, and the questions continued, "Do you …" Or, tried to continue, anyway. She struggled with how to word it, because she (apparently) wasn't very good at this. "Do you want someone with you when she does?"

Oh. He hadn't expected that offer, but it was a welcome one. "Yeah, uh. That'd be... I mean, if you don't mind. You don't have to."

"No." Her voice was weak at first, but she gained a little resolve and continued. "No, I will. I mean, this is a big thing, you should have somebody there with you." And she was happy he'd managed to suss out that she was offering despite her usual mixed signals, avoid-y way of doing it. Her expression stilled when she realized something. "Unless -- I mean, I'm sure you and Martha are close. I-If you just want her to be there, then that's --"

"No!" He blurted it out before he could think much about it. "I mean, I want her to be there, but... you're somebody." Bloody hell, he thought he was better at talking to girls than this. "I'd like you there. She'll be busy doing the doctor thing anyway."

There was a wide smile stretching across Buffy's face when he finished and she let out a little laugh, because wow they're really winning at life right now. But she ducks her head and quiets the smile and then looks up at him with a nod.

"Then, I will be. You know where to find me."

When Spike had finished his blood and the sun had sank below the horizon, they wound their way down to the stables, Buffy wrinkling her nose as mud from the summer rain splashed on her boots. She skipped around a muckier looking part of the path as they approached the stables, where the horses were shifting and stirring in their stalls.

The stablehand greeted Buffy as she entered and she returned the greeting with a bright smile, introducing Spike. The stable-worker got to work saddling up two of the knights' horses and Buffy turned to Spike, chatty.

"Can't believe you've really never been down here." She glanced outside into the dusk, eyeing the tree line. Might be best if they brought flashlights or lanterns or something. Tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek, she dragged her attention back to Spike. "Rafael had a few horses stabled at his place in Venice, but his manager totally lost it when she saw all of us there."

"Guess I never really thought about it. There are cars too, you know. They don't bump around nearly as much." Spike didn't care one way or another about the horses, but he was more than willing to put up with them for more time with Buffy. Especially if she'd already spent time with bloody Rafael's horses. "Did you spook the horses or something?"

"No, no. She was just way unstable." Or, that was the short version, anyway. She understood, really, why Isabella was so protective and tense. Secretly shadowkind, inviting people into his home where they could find out and out him and he'd lose everything. They were like family, she was supposed to be protective.

Didn't mean Buffy liked her any more, or got any less kick out of the fact that they'd ditched her.

She wrinkled her nose as she glanced over at Spike, asking, "What is it with guys and cars?" She shook her head.

Spike still didn't like hearing about Rafael all that much, or this manager or his, so he was happy for the subject change. "It's just fun going fast, I suppose. And there's something about a nice, sleek design..." he shrugged. He was pretty sure it was mostly the fast thing. Horses had nothing on cars where speed was concerned. "Plus, they've got radios and cup holders and all that. Horses aren't nearly as nice."

Somewhere around him trailing off about 'nice, sleek design' Buffy started staring with mingled accusation and incredulity. The shrug of dismissal and statement that followed didn't help. It just sounded like a weirdly sexual thing, if she was being honest. Not that it was necessarily surprising, because really what with guys wasn't, but … Still.

"I think I figured it out," she responded with a decisive nod. No wonder they weren't as keen on horses. You couldn't turn horses into weird sexual objects. Or, well, you could, but not legally. "Say no more."

The stablehand came back, guiding them out to where the horses were saddled and waiting, and Buffy picked one -- a dark brown mustang -- and moved to start petting its face affectionately. It didn't flinch away, just stared at her with its big horse eyes and allowed her to pet it (handle animal 13). She looked over at Spike.

"Ready?"

Spike looked a little confused at the conclusion she seemed to have made that he was pretty sure wasn't anything he'd said, but then the horses were back out, and instead of pressing, he went over to his own mount. His horse was big and black and a little more wary than Buffy's was (handle animal 12), but once he swung himself up onto his back, he felt right at home (ride 23). Maybe there were no cars back before he'd become a vampire. He grinned over at Buffy.

"Ready. Maybe you're right about this horse thing." He cocked his head and pressed his heels into the horses sides, just lightly enough to get it started moving. "Might be fun."

With a steady grace, Buffy got her foot in the saddle and swung herself up into it, settling in comfortably. He was better at this than she was, that much was clear, but it wasn't like she was going to get bucked off or anything (ride 12). She glanced over at him once she was done being focus-y gal on the horse.

"How'd you -- ?" She huffed a little, looking down at her horse, then rapped it lightly with her heels. She wavered in the saddle as it started to lumber forward, but maintained her balance and got the hang of it soon enough, gripping onto the reins.

He shrugged, keeping pace with her easily. "Maybe I knew before I died. Like riding a bike, right?" That's something else he hadn't tried. He couldn't imagine it was any harder than this, though, and he'd probably look far cooler. "Not something you've done a lot of, huh?" He sounded more sympathetic than amused at her pain, surprisingly. Horse riding was hard. In theory. For people that weren't him.

Before I died. What a weird turn of phrase. She eyed him for that, considering, then just gave a shrugged dismissal. Out on the grounds there were intermittently placed lanterns close to the castle itself, helping to give them light -- or, more appropriately, helping to give her light.

"Not that I can remember." Realizing how that sounded, she looked up. "Uh, I mean. I might have as a kid or something."

Not that she can remember. He wouldn't have thought anything of it if she hadn't hastened to correct. Or if this was the first time she'd made such a slip-up. He glanced over at her as they started out across the grounds. But as it was...

"Are you shadowkind?" He asked quietly.

She caught his glance, then looked down at the horn of her saddle, resting her hands over it, still holding the reins. It shouldn't be so tough to own up to. Maybe it wouldn't have been if she'd said something earlier. They were all going through the same thing, right?

Except they didn't all have the nightmares. They didn't all spaz out and attack their teammates. They didn't all have strength that they couldn't explain, and visits from mysterious handsome men who told her they were demon fighters and could see things others couldn't.

They'd never felt insane for seeing those things.

"I'm human, if that's what you're asking," she replied stubbornly. Then, relenting, she looked back up at him. It's not that she was anti-Shadowkind. Or that there was anything wrong with being Shadowkind of the non-human variety. Val'drin was. Spike was. Fred was. A great many of her friends were. Even Rafael wasn't fully human. But, her own doubt of her abilities and self-awareness made it hard to admit that maybe she didn't know if she was. "Just … not originally from around here."

If he hadn't been on a horse, he would have squeezed her shoulder or something to let her know it was okay, that he appreciated her telling him. As it was, he could only look over at her, expression soft.

"How much do you remember? Anything?"

"My name?" Buffy offered wryly, shaking her head. She glanced briefly in his direction, but fixed her attention forward, ducking under a branch that had grown over the path. "Besides that … nothing, really. I have these … these dreams sometimes. They feel like they might be memories." But they weren't of her. She nudged her horse to pick up the pace a little. She hadn't mentioned that part to anybody. "Not good ones, whatever they are."

"That's why you had trouble sleeping." It wasn't a question. Bad dreams. Dreams from before. No wonder she'd been up late. He nudged his horse too, keeping speed with her. "Think coming here was a step up, then?"

"Have," she sheepishly, begrudgingly corrected. It hadn't gone away. Months now, and it was still just as unpleasant when she shut her eyes as the days before she joined the Knights. There was magic of some kind that could help it, probably, but that'd involve asking for it. "Here's no different." Demons. Vampires. Getting the affirmation that it was reality in New Orleans -- reality that not everyone had to see, making her look certifiably psycho -- really didn't help ease the nightmares, it turned out.

He looked over at her, eyes full of sympathy. He slept all right himself, most of the time, aside from the occasional Passions dream. Sometimes he wondered if he'd sleep as well if he could remember his past at all. He knew far too much about fighting and killing to really rest comfortably.

"Have you tried... I don't know. Pills of some sort? Or asking Kat for something. I'm sure there's a spell." He wasn't sure he'd trust a spell, especially not after one had turned him blue that one time. But maybe it could help Buffy.

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timeskips

wheee!

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