Chapter 3: Lost or Added in Translation
Mar. 24th, 2018 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Bleach (I Hope Tomorrow's a Better Day)
Chapter Summary: Xander's bad day is just getting worse. But it might be coming to an end. (not this fic, though. I've got plans)
Word Count: 1008
Rating: Gen
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Bleach (I Hope Tomorrow's a Better Day)
Chapter Summary: Xander's bad day is just getting worse. But it might be coming to an end. (not this fic, though. I've got plans)
Word Count: 1008
Rating: Gen
“This isn’t funny!” Willow stamps her foot, tears in her eyes. She’s working her way up to a full tantrum, which these days might include fire, and as much as he’d like seeing Spike burn a little the guy’s his only lifeline, literally, so he’d kind of rather her not.
Which—hey, there’s an idea. He reaches out and pushes her shoulder. Not hard; just like they used to do.
Her eyes widen, mouth falling open. She whispers something that is probably his name under her breath.
Spike’s watching with an eyebrow raised. “Somehow, whelp, I don’t think that’s going to help you solve anything.”
Will bites her lip, which is something he hasn’t seen her do in years, and stops crying abruptly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he might be telling the truth.”
“As fun as watching them all call you a liar is, can we maybe skip to the part where we get me back into my own body?” He’s feeling a little restless, like this is important all of a sudden.
The blond vampire opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something else snarky, and then stops, which is uncharacteristic enough that it has Xander vaguely panicking, though he does his best to hide it. He instead turns to Buffy. “Your little pet’s getting a bit impatient. He’s pretty convinced you can just take him put him back in his body, fixing his little ghost problem.”
“You can do that, can’t you, Giles?” Buffy asks quietly, and Giles blinks. He’s at least looking in the right direction, and there’s something odd and vague about his expression.
“What? Oh. Yes, probably, though some of that depends on the state of the body. Sorry, your body, Xander.” He still seems preoccupied. Hopefully he’s just trying to remember what book that spell was in.
“Xander, if you ruined my boots with your dying blood, I will never forgive you,” Buffy tells him, now following Spike’s gaze, and to her credit her voice only cracks twice.
He rolls his eyes, but at least she’s joking around and making him feel like he really might get through this. “I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it anyway,” he responds, affectionate.
He follows Giles to his body, looking pale and kind of pathetic up there on the altar.
Gently, the Watcher turns over the body, looking at it with a critical eye. “The good news is that it appears they didn’t stab you through the heart. The, er, placement of the wound shows quite the knowledge of human anatomy, actually. I believe this means that they wanted your body to bleed out, which takes some time. We certainly have a chance to save you, assuming we can stop the bleeding. Do you know how long has passed since you were wounded?”
“Sorry, G-man, I forgot to pack a watch on my soul today,” Xander responds, rolling his eyes.
“Whelp’s useless as ever,” Spike relays unhelpfully. Xander would be so much more outraged about this if he hadn’t really been expecting it.
“Yes, well, never mind. Goodness, it’s been so long…” Giles closes his eyes and begins muttering under his breath. He doesn’t want them to overhear (mostly Willow, since she’s the only one who could cast it), but why? Surely healing spells would be pretty useful, right? The wound closes up after a minute of hoping Giles actually knows what he’s doing.
“Yes!” Xander punches the air.
Without looking, Giles states quietly, “I wouldn’t celebrate too early, Xander. Unfortunately, that was the easier part. It may take some time to find the spell to put you back in your body.”
Xander opens his mouth.
“I’m afraid I still cannot hear or see you, though I can feel what I believe to be your presence. But I believe four years is quite enough time to be able to predict even such unpredictable people as the three of you on occasion.” That is, in fact, a slight smile. The G-man’s able to joke about things. Shock! Buffy tries a winning, innocent smile, while Willow shuffles her feet.
Xander closes his mouth, then shrugs. “While you’re completely predictable and therefore probably boring.”
Spike snickers, but even after badgering from Willow won’t relay that one. Still, it’s not a necessary message, so Xander doesn’t follow through on any of his ghostly promises. Yet.
“I’ll carry him,” Riley offers quickly, and hoists up his limp body in a fireman’s carry. He’s pretty strong. “I’m sorry about this, Xander.”
“Well, it’s not as if I’m carrying myself back,” Xander shrugs. “I don’t know if I could, and I definitely don’t want to draw attention by floating through town.”
That earns another chuckle from the vampire.
“What? What’s he saying?” Willow asks eagerly. She hasn’t learned, apparently, that Spike’s only passing on messages when it amuses him to do so, but he grins a little.
“Who else would be doing it, me?” he asks, and, well, in a roundabout way that is actually vaguely close to what he said. “Whelp’s more entertainin’ when he’s dead.”
“You’d probably think that of everybody,” Will elaborates, patting Xander’s dangling hand, and—
Oh, that’s weird even by our standards. I felt that. And—hey, there are some kinda weird chains leading from my body to, well, me, so—that bodes well, right? Hopefully? If nothing else there’s still some kind of connection between, well, me and another part of me.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” the vampire asks, almost conversationally.
He relays what he’d felt and seen, Spike summarizes in his irreverent way, and Giles cleans his glasses.
“Fascinating,” is his only response to the situation, though, which—really? Is he part Vulcan or something?
“As fun as this all is, I’d really like to be back in my own body.” Maybe complaining isn’t the best approach, but he really, really would like this day to be over, please.
“I don’t. I’d list this high on the fun you can have when you’re dead,” Spike disagrees.
Which—hey, there’s an idea. He reaches out and pushes her shoulder. Not hard; just like they used to do.
Her eyes widen, mouth falling open. She whispers something that is probably his name under her breath.
Spike’s watching with an eyebrow raised. “Somehow, whelp, I don’t think that’s going to help you solve anything.”
Will bites her lip, which is something he hasn’t seen her do in years, and stops crying abruptly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he might be telling the truth.”
“As fun as watching them all call you a liar is, can we maybe skip to the part where we get me back into my own body?” He’s feeling a little restless, like this is important all of a sudden.
The blond vampire opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something else snarky, and then stops, which is uncharacteristic enough that it has Xander vaguely panicking, though he does his best to hide it. He instead turns to Buffy. “Your little pet’s getting a bit impatient. He’s pretty convinced you can just take him put him back in his body, fixing his little ghost problem.”
“You can do that, can’t you, Giles?” Buffy asks quietly, and Giles blinks. He’s at least looking in the right direction, and there’s something odd and vague about his expression.
“What? Oh. Yes, probably, though some of that depends on the state of the body. Sorry, your body, Xander.” He still seems preoccupied. Hopefully he’s just trying to remember what book that spell was in.
“Xander, if you ruined my boots with your dying blood, I will never forgive you,” Buffy tells him, now following Spike’s gaze, and to her credit her voice only cracks twice.
He rolls his eyes, but at least she’s joking around and making him feel like he really might get through this. “I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it anyway,” he responds, affectionate.
He follows Giles to his body, looking pale and kind of pathetic up there on the altar.
Gently, the Watcher turns over the body, looking at it with a critical eye. “The good news is that it appears they didn’t stab you through the heart. The, er, placement of the wound shows quite the knowledge of human anatomy, actually. I believe this means that they wanted your body to bleed out, which takes some time. We certainly have a chance to save you, assuming we can stop the bleeding. Do you know how long has passed since you were wounded?”
“Sorry, G-man, I forgot to pack a watch on my soul today,” Xander responds, rolling his eyes.
“Whelp’s useless as ever,” Spike relays unhelpfully. Xander would be so much more outraged about this if he hadn’t really been expecting it.
“Yes, well, never mind. Goodness, it’s been so long…” Giles closes his eyes and begins muttering under his breath. He doesn’t want them to overhear (mostly Willow, since she’s the only one who could cast it), but why? Surely healing spells would be pretty useful, right? The wound closes up after a minute of hoping Giles actually knows what he’s doing.
“Yes!” Xander punches the air.
Without looking, Giles states quietly, “I wouldn’t celebrate too early, Xander. Unfortunately, that was the easier part. It may take some time to find the spell to put you back in your body.”
Xander opens his mouth.
“I’m afraid I still cannot hear or see you, though I can feel what I believe to be your presence. But I believe four years is quite enough time to be able to predict even such unpredictable people as the three of you on occasion.” That is, in fact, a slight smile. The G-man’s able to joke about things. Shock! Buffy tries a winning, innocent smile, while Willow shuffles her feet.
Xander closes his mouth, then shrugs. “While you’re completely predictable and therefore probably boring.”
Spike snickers, but even after badgering from Willow won’t relay that one. Still, it’s not a necessary message, so Xander doesn’t follow through on any of his ghostly promises. Yet.
“I’ll carry him,” Riley offers quickly, and hoists up his limp body in a fireman’s carry. He’s pretty strong. “I’m sorry about this, Xander.”
“Well, it’s not as if I’m carrying myself back,” Xander shrugs. “I don’t know if I could, and I definitely don’t want to draw attention by floating through town.”
That earns another chuckle from the vampire.
“What? What’s he saying?” Willow asks eagerly. She hasn’t learned, apparently, that Spike’s only passing on messages when it amuses him to do so, but he grins a little.
“Who else would be doing it, me?” he asks, and, well, in a roundabout way that is actually vaguely close to what he said. “Whelp’s more entertainin’ when he’s dead.”
“You’d probably think that of everybody,” Will elaborates, patting Xander’s dangling hand, and—
Oh, that’s weird even by our standards. I felt that. And—hey, there are some kinda weird chains leading from my body to, well, me, so—that bodes well, right? Hopefully? If nothing else there’s still some kind of connection between, well, me and another part of me.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” the vampire asks, almost conversationally.
He relays what he’d felt and seen, Spike summarizes in his irreverent way, and Giles cleans his glasses.
“Fascinating,” is his only response to the situation, though, which—really? Is he part Vulcan or something?
“As fun as this all is, I’d really like to be back in my own body.” Maybe complaining isn’t the best approach, but he really, really would like this day to be over, please.
“I don’t. I’d list this high on the fun you can have when you’re dead,” Spike disagrees.
