Ok, I wrote this. Was supposed to be all sweet and sappy and schmoopy. It's not. Sorry ducklings. Nobody died during the writing of this.
But I did cry.
A) Sorry, angsty.
B) Written with a distinct lack of punctuation on purpose. The first one of y’all that decides to point this out, gets taken off the christmas card list.
waves breaking on the sand? My favorite sound ever.
How about the crackling and hissing of a dying fire?
The sleepy sounds of a baby
The sound of the wind.
The sound of the ceiling fan.
The sound of Audrey Hepburn singing 'Moon River' in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'
electric coffee grinder
- bacon sizzling in frying pan
- crack of an egg on a ceramic bowl, and swoop of wooden spoon as it stirs in the bowl
- crash of orange-juice bottle as it hits the floor ::smirk::
The sound of purring, either a cat or a happy vampire purr. Either one.
The sound of a storm
Sounds in Silence
That sound. The only sound guaranteed to drop him to his knees, take him higher than the moon, and lull him to sleep. Like ocean waves breaking on the shore, slow and steady love you love you...love you. Was slowing, was going away.
“Do it Spike, c’mon and do it.” Frantic whispers deep in the shadows, from the one bound to kill him first.
“Can’t.” Xander had made him promise. No matter what.
”What do you love about me?”
Silence, then, “Oh, if that’s all.” The scratchy sound of denim over flesh, and Spike was off the bed with Xander pinned beneath him on the floor.
“Your heart, fuckin’ git. What do you want from me? Flowers and undying devotion? Got it.”
And Spike knew. He would never do anything to destroy the part of Xander that made him so unique...so human.
Blink. Nod. Promise given.
“The E.M.T.’s are here, c’mon Spike. You have to move now.” Strong hands, pulling and tugging and Xander slips from his grasp.
Lines and lights and buildings blur and he is pacing walking prowling. The nurses skitter out of his way, and the Dr talks to Buffy Giles Willow. Cautious eyes follow as he counts floor tiles ceiling tiles lines on the wall. Voices wrap around him and spin him out, crazy like Dru’s golden dreidel.
Tiny burble sighs draw Spike down the hallway, quiet and helpless like him. Now.
The room is quiet, full of little plastic boxes and scraps of blue and pink. A woman, haggard and tired, hands him a paper gown to slip on. She never really looks at him, lets him wander and be. Dark gray blue green eyes peer up, the only part visible under the wrap and swaddle. So he sits and rocks and purrs. Dreams and cries.
Spike wakes with a head in his lap, heavier than the infant he had fallen to sleep with. Wild brown locks, damp and sweet smelling. Beloved precious awesome face ashen pale. And he can hear the ocean waves breaking on the shore again. Quiet steady love you love you...love you. Knocked to his knees and flown higher than the moon and brought steadily to life.
Xander didnt know if he needed to laugh or cry. Domestic Spike. Eggs cracking on ceramic, bacon sizzlepop in the frying pan. Definitely tear worthy.
Pretty little house vamp, all because he didnt know to dodge instead of duck. Two weeks since the whole ‘I almost died so be nice to me’ thing. That had been fun and milked for all it was worth for about an hour after getting home. Well, until he realized Spike had no intention to indulge in the life-affirming sex Xander desperately wanted. Not that night or any night since.
“Spike, what are you–“
“Fuck, Xan!” Spike spun, dropping the almost-full bottle of orange juice on his feet. Shattered glass slicing the bare flesh into crimson ribbons.
Spike stared. Xander stared. Spike opened his mouth, memorized pleas of sorry and forgive me halted when tears started in Xander’s eyes.
Xander could feel the storm brewing, wind whistling through the open window, rain falling gentle fast pitter-patter on the pavement outside.
Calm chaos like the ocean blue of his lover’s eyes.
Sudden echo of lightning booming, thunder brilliant and Xander is falling to his knees reaching for Spike.
“Touch me touch me touch me.” Mindless, soft and loud, he’s not sure if the sound is in his head or bouncing off the walls of the kitchen. But Spike is there, wrapping his lover in slender pale arms and shushing words.
“Two drifters, off to see the world,
There's such a lot of world to see,
We're after the same rainbow's end
Waitin' round the bend
My Huckleberry friend,
Moon river and me”
The lights flicker, dim, then die. And Xander can hear Spike, crooning crooning. In the background of his memory he can hear Spike crooning along with the pretty little waif on T.V. The exact moment he knew he was in love with Spike. The instant in time that his life started.
“Shh pet, hearts goin like a hummingbird, trapped in a cage” Spike pets and coddles, pressing dry kisses to the top of Xander’s head.He focuses blindly on the sounds around him, insane gray goddess outside, tearing and rending the world into a new shape. Logs popping and crackling in the tiny corner fireplace. Cool whisper of Spike running his hand from shoulder to hip, fabric crumpling under his touch.
Xander tries to climb inside of Spike.
And in the darkness, gentle fingers dance over lazy summer day flesh. The sound of the storm crashing breaking washing away covers the quiet sighs of love you miss you want you
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