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Emptied Vessel So why can’t I sleep? I’m not hungry. I
don’t sense anything lurking. I’m… lonely? Why am I lonely? I saw Buffy
when she came by while on patrol last night. Resilient thing doesn’t look the
bit worse for wear. So I’ve talked with someone in the last twelve hours...
What else could it be? It’s not Dru. I’m
not missing Dru. I’m used to her being gone. That’s one of the keys to
staying alive as long as I have: adaptation. If one can’t change, one can’t
survive. Therefore, what the bloody hell is gnawing at me? Okay, think. Damn, Spike, you know what it is. You feel
the hole where that soul warmed you. You feel empty. Admit it. Damn it all to sodding hell. Why couldn’t I have had my flask with me? I took it out of my pocket why? It’s leaking. I need to get a new seal for it. Damn it. I had to have the brilliant idea to use myself. I thought I could just carry it around and not know it was there. I mean, it’s not my soul! I shouldn’t have felt anything! Humm. Maybe that explains Peaches’ bad
reaction to his soul being restored. Maybe he didn’t get his own soul. Some
poor get has his soul stuffed into a vampire. That would make anybody crazy. Who am I fooling? He got his own soul and
had to feel every bad thing he ever did. Just as advertised. What I felt… it
was like it was being shown to me, on television or something. I didn’t…
relive it exactly. I was just very aware of it. Like I was being held down and
made to watch while drugs made me sick. Like in “Clockwork Orange.” Now that’s a cool movie. All the
ultraviolence and the scene where the rival gang holds down the naked girl. Oh God! I hope Buffy didn’t experience
any of it! I hope she didn’t suffer for being in me. No, no, no. She didn’t.
She... she never would’ve let me stay around if she knew. I mean, I know she
knows about my past. Giles has read her plenty of bedtime stories I’m sure. Damn! Now I’m worried about the sodding
Slayer and what she thinks of me. I just wish this empty feeling would go away and let me sleep. ************** Contents I feel like I’ve done something and
It’s not finished, but I can’t remember what. Like I put popcorn in the
microwave and never went back for it. Or left a skirt at the drycleaner. I guess that’s what being out of body
does to you. Why don’t they have handbooks on things like this? “How to
Astral Travel and Not Lose Your Mental Baggage.” I’ll ask Giles. No. I can’t. He’ll just worry about me.
As it is, he asked me all about being in Spike. Am I damaged in any way? Do I
remember anything? No, I’m not and yes I do. Although I won’t tell him that. I remember being warm and safe and
somewhere strong. I remember being not alone. I know the… otherness was
protecting me. But it also felt guilty. I was being protected not only from the
world, but from the other itself, I think. Yeah. That’s the only way to
describe it. Of course I was in Spike and he has plenty to feel guilty
about. I think Giles wants to write a paper on the
whole bizarre thing. Willow told me she thought she saw him cry. Xander has been
strangely quiet on the Spike front, other than a few almost token protests for
the ‘vampires bad’ camp. Although for a while I would catch him looking
strangely at the cleanly healing cuts on his hands. Didn’t he say Spike helped
get the glass out? Damn that vampire. I think I have him
figured and he throws me a curve. I don’t know exactly why I cooked up a
reason to go see him last night. He was surly and crude as usual, but when I
looked in his eyes I wanted… I wanted to go back. I wanted the safety and
warmth that I now know lies in those blue depths. If I could dive into those
sparkling, sharp blue… No! Bad thoughts about nasty vampire! …But the way he looks at me. I wonder. Now,
I know he looked at me that way in the past. Not often, but I know I’ve seen
it. I guess he just can’t hide it from me now. Why did I let him stay? Silly Slayer gone
soft on the Big Bad. A guy gives you shelter for a couple of hours and you want
to move in. He was all ready to swear off Sunnydale and leave us all in peace.
Damn it. Okay, feet. Why did you bring me back here?
I have no desire to talk to Spike again. Do I? * She’s here again. Why has she come back? I bet she knows how it torments me. That’s all she lives for. Kick the Spike. I best get up before she kicks her way in and finds me all mussed. * Oh, God. He’s so… rumpled. Like he’s been… in bed… Of course, vampire, day sleeper. Do vampires toss and turn in their sleep? No… bad direction. Never want to know. It’s cute how he keeps running his hands over his hair and that one little bit keeps sticking up. Poor guy can’t use a mirror. Damn, I want nothing more than to soothe that one bit of hair back in place. I bet it’s soft without all that product in it. * Why does she keep looking at me like that? Sod it. I bet I’ve got a cowlick. Dru used to love to make my hair stick up every which way as I slept. Had to wet it down and start over every night. Why is she here, anyway? Why isn’t she off snogging her soldier boy? * Huh? Why does he bring up Riley every time he’s around me? Is he afraid of him? Spike? Afraid? Well, the Initiative did do a number on him. Capture, torture, chipping. He recovered well from it. He looks as healthy as any undead thing can. Oh. His shirt keeps riding up when he runs his hands over his hair. Look at that flat stomach… No! don’t look! * Bugger all, Slayer. Say what you want and be gone or let me throw you down and have you! … I did NOT just think that! * It’s no wonder he can’t tuck his shirt in when his jeans are so tight and… Oh! I’ve got to get out of here. * Well that visit was a gust of pointless air. Bugger. Now I know it’ll take more than a good wank or three before I can sleep. |
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