Early One Morning.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A Spike x OC fan fic :)

Submitted: December 23, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 23, 2010



William hears his song play on the music box, he turns to see his mother standing there holding it and smiling at him. Her blonde wavy hair cascades down her back and she looks healthier than ever.

"Hello, William," she smiles, a smile that looks wrong.

"Look at you," he looks her up and down, he feels so happy.

"Mm, yes. All better," her voice is cold, but William cannot hear it. He only hears the life in her voice.

"You're glowing," his smile grows to a grin.

"Am I? Well I suppose I have you to thank for that, don't I?" she shuts the music box and the music stops. "How will I ever repay you?" she speaks more softly now. Thoughts run through his mind, he is happy, his mum is alive, and they can live together forever in peace.

"Seeing you like this is payment enough,"

"Oh, William," she walks towards him. "You're so…" she places a hand on his cheek. "Tender," she smiles at him sweetly. He chuckles and parts his arms to show the space in which they stand.

"Well, this as it should be, Mother. You and I together. All of London laid out before us," he grins at her. A sickly, forced smile creeps onto her face.

"Ah. Yes. Us," she says curtly.

"First, we'll feast. Then the night is yours. Theatre, perhaps? Dancing? Tell me," he places a hand on her back, "What's your pleasure?" he asks. She turns to face him, still smiling.

"Pleasure? To take my leave of you, of course. 'The lark hath spake from twixt its wee beak?' You honestly thought I could bear an eternity listening to that twaddle?" the line from his own poem cuts through him as he absorbs the words.

"I feel extraordinary," she continues "It's as though I've been given new eyes. I see everything. Understand…" she turns to frown at William. "Everything," William looks scared. Disturbed, his eyes…

"Mother," his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

"I hate to be cruel… No, I don't. I used to hate to be cruel in life. Now, I find it rather freeing. Nothing less will pry your greedy little fingers off my apron strings, will it?" the acid in her voice could have stung him and caused him physically pain it was so thick. William looks away from his mother.

"Stop. Please," it's not a request, it's a beg. His mother walk closer to him.

"Ever since the day you first slithered from me like a parasite…"

"What're you sa-"

"Had I known better, I could have spared myself a lifetime of tedium and just dashed your brains out when I first saw you," her voice is almost…jolly. William is disgusted by his mother's words and turns away from her again. She turns her head away.

"God, I prayed you'd find a woman to release me," she turns to look at him again, her voice becomes aggravated, "But you scarcely showed an interest! Who could compare to your doddering housebound mum? A captive audience for your witless prattle," she spits at him. He turns towards her, he looks stronger now.

"Whatever I was, that's not who I am anymore" he speaks hoarsely, like he's losing the battle of words. She snickers and walks up to him.

"Darling, it's who you'll always be. A limp…sentimental fool," she speaks softly, but still firmly. She continues to walk towards him, backing him up against the fireplace.

"You want to run, don't you? Scamper off and cry to your new little trollop. Do you think you'll be able to love her?" she leans closer into him, centimetres away from his face. "Think you'll be able to touch her without feeling me?" He looks around him. Panicked and disgusted. He tries to find a way to escape the disturbing situation.

"All you ever wanted was to be back inside," she touches his face, slithers her hands along his body. "You finally got your wish, didn't you? Sank your teeth into me. An eternal kiss," he frantically shakes his head, he doesn't like this. It's wrong. It's not the proper order of things.

"No! I only wanted to make you well!" the tears begin to well in his eyes, and the panic can be heard in his voice. She sneers.

"You wanted your hands on me. Perhaps you'd like a chance to finish off what you started," she scares him still. But he pushes her away and looks towards the fire.

"I love you, I did. Not like this," a tear rolls down his cheek.

"Just like this. This is what you always wanted. Who's my dark little prince?" she lunges at him and tries to kiss him. William's alarm bells go off. He pushes her once more and knocks her to the ground.


"Get out. GET OUT!" she shrieks and stands up. She waves her cane at him, they begin to struggle and William breaks the cane. His mother changes into game face. The face of a vampire.

"I'm sorry," are all the words that escape William's mouth before his drives the wooden shaft into his mother's heart. Her vampire face melts away, only leaving the pleading and shocked eyes of a dying woman. She turns to dust as William's heart shatters into a million pieces.

I awoke with a tear rolling down my face. I could still see his face as he staked her. The face of utter sorrow and distress I sighed and thought back to the many dreams I'd had about him of late. He was beautiful, he made my heart race faster every second I thought of him. He had alabaster white skin that shined like marble in the moonlight and high, defined cheekbones. His eyes were a blue that at time were piercing or at other, lost. Lost like a light sapphire to the bottom of the ocean. He was my William. Sometimes, I could almost feel his heart breaking. He was amazing, deep, and sentimental. But at the same time, he was a monster. He was a killer. William was a vampire. And his eyes struck fear into my heart like ice. He was a creature of the darkness. I shuddered at the thought of it, and then told myself not to be stupid. I doubted he was even real. He was just a dream, an idea. Then an image hit me, a dream from the night before. William, turning to dust. He died, again. But this time, it was indefinite. And it hurt. It hurt so badly. I screamed on the inside and tears rolled down my face. I wiped them away and sniffled. I hated being so pathetic. I shook my head and turned to look at my alarm. Shit. I was late. 10.30 Already. I normally had to be at work for 9.00. Uncle Wesley would be here any min-

"Alice! Alice! Are you alright?" Uncle Wesley's English accent called out. He and I seemed to be the only English people in America. My front door slammed closed. I heard him run up the stairs. Wrenching open my door, he looked about, frantically. He obviously hadn't shaved for days. When he saw me, yawing and stretching in my bed, his face overflowed with anger.

"Alice! For god's sake woman. I thought you were bloody well in danger. Get up! We have a demon downtown and your flight leaves at 5! Come on, girl!" he said, frustrated. He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed.

"It's your last day with us," he began to clean his glasses, as he did in all awkward situations. "And we're going to miss you. I know I've not been the greatest uncle, although I've only been an uncle for a few months. But it's best that you go to Sunnydale. It really is," he said quietly. I began to feel unbalanced. I'd been ripped from my home because of my heritage, thrown to a different country, and now thrown across this country to the other side. All because I looked too much like my father. They were best friends as well as brothers, and my mother slaughtered my father. She was a demon. Leader of The Sisterhood Of Jhe. She bore me, and then my father began to see her violent side. He used to tell me stories of pirates, vampires and gods. All that he'd heard from my Uncle Wesley's tales with Buffy and Angel. The Slayer and her ex vampire-with-a-soul-boyfriend. Buffy was dead now. And I was being sent to take her place. No-one had exactly said that yet, but I knew it was true. I had been a potential when I was young. I could've been a slayer, but Buffy was chosen. I was trained by my father, after he'd taken me away from my mother in the dead of night. When I was 17, she tracked us down and slaughtered him. I managed to get away. She hadn't bothered me since it happened almost 3 years before. I smiled at my uncle.

"Sorry. I'll get dressed and start to pack. What kind of a demon is it?" I asked.

"Polgara, nasty poisonous poker thing," he shuddered.

"Snap it. Then you're all good," I smiled at him as he made his way to the door. He turned and looked at me in admiration.

"Of course! Thank you," he smiled and left, closing the door behind him.

I stretched and started to roll on my side, when I felt a falling sensation and ended up on the floor with a thump.

"Owwww," I groaned.

I stood up and went over to my chest of drawers. I opened the top drawer and pulled out a scrunchie. Scraping my burgundy hair back, I slipped the scrunchie in and pulled in back into a messy ponytail. I opened my wardrobe and began to pull stuff into my rucksack...

I arrived at Sunnydale airport at about 7.00pm. It was already dark. I pulled my rucksack over my shoulder and slung my messenger bag over the other one. I began to walk through the town until I would find myself at the Bronze. Where I was due to meet a girl named Willow. She would take me to the slayers house. About 10 minutes after I started walking, I hit the graveyard. I smiled to myself. Happy hunting. I made my way through and dusted a few vamps. It was second nature to me. I reached the gate when a demon jumped at me from behind a crypt. I began to fight with it. It blocked most of my attacks, but I finally kicked it in the chest. It was then I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out a silver dagger. By the time I looked back to where it was, a red headed girl and a broad shouldered guy were doing there best to attack it. And failing. It was pummelling them. I kicked it again and it fell to the ground. I straddled it and then plunged the dagger into its chest. It spasmed a few times before finally going limp. The redhead smiled a bright smile at me.

"Hey! I'm Willow, you must be Alice? This is Xander," she nodded to the boy who was still picking himself off of a headstone.

"Hey, I' m the manly man, with no fears. Except...anything that moves insanely fast and smells bad," he chuckled.

"I'm sure you're very brave," I giggled.

"I do what I can," he smiled humbly "Xander," he held out a hand and I shook it.

"Alice," I said with a nod, Willow smiled and began wandering out of the graveyard. Xander and I followed.

When we finally reached Revello Drive, I was tired. I wanted to sleep. Willow prattled on, she was amazing. She was evidently a witch, a powerful one at that. She welcomed me in and I walked into the foyer. There were stairs directly in front of me, a dining room to the right and a living room to the left.

"Leave your bags here, I'll give you a tour," Xander said, suddenly a woman with bouncy blonde hair ran into the room.

"Xander!" she cried "Is this her?" the woman looked me up and down sceptically.

"Yes, Anya, this is Alice. Alice, this is Anya," he replied. She smiled and hugged me.

"Hello, welcome to Sunnydale, please sit down and eat our food and kill our vampires," she said brightly.

"Uh…Hi," I said, peeling her off me. "I'll…do my best?" she smiled and wandered off into the living room. I gave Xander a look of confusion and what the fuck-ness. He coughed and rubbed his hands together, trying to chase away the cold.

"Yeah...she's an one thousand year old ex-demon, she's still getting used to this way of life," he smiled at me and I nodded. Willow jumped up off a futon

"Let's show you around then. This is the living room," she said as she began to walk through to the living room. She continued walking down a hallway; I followed her into a nicely furnished kitchen. Counters, a breakfast bar type thing and...I caught my breath. My heart beat got faster and faster. He turned to meet my eyes. Willow nattered on in the background, but I could only see and hear him. Hear is breathing, hear the sound of his t-shirt moving on his skin as he turned and saw me. Hear the sound of his mind as it exploded with disbelief.

I couldn't sleep, that first night in Sunnydale. My dream, my idea, had become a reality. William or 'Spike' was real. And I was sleeping in the same house as him. He was all that was running through my head. I needed a drink. Sighing, I got out of my make shift bed on the sofa. I tip-toed down the hall and reached the kitchen. Opening cupboards, I began my hunt for drink. Whiskey, vodka, wine, anything would do. My search did not prevail. It was then I heard boots clonking on stairs, and a door to the right of me opened. It was Spike. His scent overflowed me and I thought I was going to fall back.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't demon girl? What are you doing up so late?" he asked, lighting a cigarette. I swallowed hard and shuffled my feet.

"Looking for a drink. You?" I asked, my voice surprisingly composed.

"Getting something to eat with my drink. I got a bottle of Dutch courage downstairs. You game?" he offered. My heart lurched to my throat, and I suspected he could hear it for he smiled that little smile that makes my heart flutter even more. I just smiled and nodded. God, I must have looked like a retard. He went into the fridge and pulled out an ounce of pig's blood. He ripped it open with his teeth and poured it into a mug. Placing it in the microwave, he began to sing to himself.

"Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard young maid sing in the valley below, oh don't deceive me, oh never leave me, how could you use a poor maiden so?" the tune was his song, from his music box. I inwardly shuddered.

"Pray tell me, pet. How old are you?" he asked, as the microwave pinged. He took out the mug and stirred it.

"I'm-I'm 19. Almost 20," I replied, startled by his question. He smiled and began towards the door.

"You want a smoke?" he asked. Suddenly, life didn't seem so bad. I hadn't had a cigarette in days, since I ran out of money.

"Oh dear god, yes!" I said with glee. He grinned and offered me a packet of Marlboro and a silver Zippo lighter...I'd seen this in my dreams before. We made our way downstairs to the basement. He went over to the cot bed bolted to the wall and sat down. He beckoned me over. I came and sat on the floor, next to his feet. I sparked up and heard him take a swig of something. He passed me down a bottle of Jack Daniels. I hastily opened it and chucked it down my throat. It was strong, strong enough for me to shudder as its taste burnt my throat. He laughed at me and I scowled at him.

"So, pet. Why are you here? When you've been up here," he tapped his head "For so long?" he said slowly. My heart froze. He had been dreaming of me as well. I coughed and looked at him worriedly. I didn't know. I honestly didn't.

"I'm not sure. I could ask you the same thing," I said in desperate hope that he would know. He frowned at me.

"So you haven't been playing with the hokey pokey or anything?" he asked, a little confused. He though it was a love spell.

"No! We haven't even met before now. I've just been dreaming about you since…since I was told I was moving to SunnyFAIL," I said with realisation and defiance. It had been since I found out I was moving.

"EVERY SPERM IS WANTED, EVERY SPERM IS GREAT! IF A SPERM IS WASTED, GOD GETS QUITE IRAAAAATE!" We sang in unison. Both rather incredibly drunk. We collapsed onto the floor laughing. Ah. The goodness of English humour. He turned to me and grinned.

"You- you know good comedy," he chuckled. I giggled and turned to face him. Our laughter quietly subsided, and I began to think.

"William...who are you?" I asked as I reached up to touch his cheek. His eyes became distressed, scared almost.

Then skin touched skin. Only it didn't happen like that. My hand was pulled towards him, I couldn't help it. I was drawn to him. Every part of me yearned for him. And as soon as I got what I wanted my mind exploded. Electricity sparked through my skin and a haze fell around me. I couldn't breathe properly and everything felt…different. I could feel him, more than in a physical sense. I delved deeper into the connection. I saw him crying, I saw a woman, she was…insane. I saw a dark brooding figure of a man, I saw a blonde girl, I saw them together, I saw her rejecting him. I saw her fall. I saw her lying in an unnatural position upon boxes. I felt his anguish, his desperation, his guilt.

Something around my wrist jolted me out of the stream of images. I looked to see his hand firmly grasping it. His face was full of anger and fury. "Get out of there," he whispered through gritted teeth.

"I- I…I'm sor-"I began to say but he cut me off with a deep, guttural growl.

"Just get out of here," he said, he was calmer now as he released my wrist. Tears filled my eyes as I tore away from him and bounded up the stairs. What a complete… It wasn't my fault. I hadn't meant to. I grabbed the remote off the table and snapped it on to the BBC America channel. Red Dwarf was on. I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. I just lay on the sofa, trying not to cry. Tears silently streamed down my face as I drifted into sleep.

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