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Entry tags:
Confidence by kcarolj65 (PG)
Fandom: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Length: 3,400 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kcarolj65
Author Website: just her lj
Why this must be read: After Buffy has Spike's chip removed, they argue about whether or not that was a wise decision. This story has exquisite voices, incisive character insights, wonderful dialogue, and simply lovely turns of phrase. All of these graces are topped off with extraordinarily satisfying emotional dynamics that build perfectly on all of Buffy and Spike's past experiences to create something that feels both true and profoundly meaningful for both characters. I am particularly in awe of how kcarolj uses Buffy's memories of her Cruciamentum as both a means to flesh out the Watchers' Council in a disturbing yet totally plausible way and also as a surprising point of common understanding and bonding with Spike.
"Jeez, Spike!" She regrets her vehemence when he cringes slightly, and forces herself to settle down. A hint of irritation still edges her voice when she continues: "Listen to me. Putting that chip in your head was wrong." The scarred eyebrow climbs expressively and she hastens to explain: "If they wanted rid of you, they should've just staked you. The experiments, the chip - that was just cruel. Like pulling the wings off a fly and watching it walk around until it dies."
Something dark and haunted flashes across his face, and his lip curls in a fashion she does not like at all: he looks reckless and dangerous, the vampire of years ago who'd promised to kill her on Saturday. "Does that make me a fly, pet? Suppose that's proper."
"Huh?"
The fiendish pose withers instantly; whatever faculties made it possible and natural in him have atrophied beyond recovery. His head droops and he directs his answer not to her but rather the cement between his boots, so quiet she can barely hear it: "Nothing good or clean in them, either."
The unexpected echo of her own words hits her gut with the force of a pile driver, or one of Spike's better punches. She wishes he'd done that, instead.
When she can, she swallows hard around the lump in her throat and says shakily, "Maybe that was true, once. But it's not anymore."
Confidence
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Length: 3,400 words
Author on LJ:
kcarolj65Author Website: just her lj
Why this must be read: After Buffy has Spike's chip removed, they argue about whether or not that was a wise decision. This story has exquisite voices, incisive character insights, wonderful dialogue, and simply lovely turns of phrase. All of these graces are topped off with extraordinarily satisfying emotional dynamics that build perfectly on all of Buffy and Spike's past experiences to create something that feels both true and profoundly meaningful for both characters. I am particularly in awe of how kcarolj uses Buffy's memories of her Cruciamentum as both a means to flesh out the Watchers' Council in a disturbing yet totally plausible way and also as a surprising point of common understanding and bonding with Spike.
"Jeez, Spike!" She regrets her vehemence when he cringes slightly, and forces herself to settle down. A hint of irritation still edges her voice when she continues: "Listen to me. Putting that chip in your head was wrong." The scarred eyebrow climbs expressively and she hastens to explain: "If they wanted rid of you, they should've just staked you. The experiments, the chip - that was just cruel. Like pulling the wings off a fly and watching it walk around until it dies."
Something dark and haunted flashes across his face, and his lip curls in a fashion she does not like at all: he looks reckless and dangerous, the vampire of years ago who'd promised to kill her on Saturday. "Does that make me a fly, pet? Suppose that's proper."
"Huh?"
The fiendish pose withers instantly; whatever faculties made it possible and natural in him have atrophied beyond recovery. His head droops and he directs his answer not to her but rather the cement between his boots, so quiet she can barely hear it: "Nothing good or clean in them, either."
The unexpected echo of her own words hits her gut with the force of a pile driver, or one of Spike's better punches. She wishes he'd done that, instead.
When she can, she swallows hard around the lump in her throat and says shakily, "Maybe that was true, once. But it's not anymore."
Confidence