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A Page out of Spike's Diary -- by Luisa
Rating: PG
Description: Title says it all.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all.
īEllo? Diary? Mate! If youīre not there, Iīm gonna get very angry... I donīt know why the hell Iīm writing to you anyway or what Iīm supposed to be writing about...after all itīs none of your damn business, is it? But what the hell, if this scribbling thing worked for Anne Frank, itīll probably work for me. If I hear as much as a squeak out of you, youīre dust. Or ashes. Whatever. Is that clear, mate? Silence is golden.
Oh bloody hell.........today has been the weirdest day of my life...I saw her. I spoke to her. She spoke to me... Oh yeah, great phrasing, Spike. Sounds like a bloody pop song. Get a grip, mate!
Ow...head hurts.
Anyway...where was I? Oh yeah, she spoke to me. Well yelled, is more like it. But itīs a beginning. I scared the hell outta her without even trying. Poor little girl. She was shaking in her shoes at first...but I had to grab hold of her somehow. She was trying to give me the slip before I had barely opened my bloody mouth! I was dashing after her before I even noticed my body moving. And then I just had to go and grab her by the skirt! All hell broke loose. I ripped her skirt, she stumbled and fell and I crashed down beside her (not on her, thank the Devil). I must have looked like a total MORON....I just stared at her for a while (NO, I donīt know how long, who the bloody hell cares???), her face was whiter than a sheet and she didnīt speak a word...not a word. I think she was in a state of shock or something. And instead of reassuring her, of making an effort...I just grinned at her like the bloody idiot that I am. I must have looked like a downright...well, nevermind. Wanker.
Anyway, there we were, all messed up... She was trying to hide her legs as best she could, all flushed and embarassed. I think I saw part of her left thigh, by the way. Nice and round, it was. Hmmmm...... I started apologizing for the mess I had made of things and for a moment she looked as dumbfounded as if the heavens had opened and God himself had picked her up in his huge hand... Her mouth (cute little mouth, by the way) was half-open and her eyes (theyīre green after all, I always thought them hazel) stared at me as if I had grown three heads all of a sudden. My hand moved and there I was, stroking her flushed cheek...touching her. Sheīs soft, she smells wonderful....she winced at my touch, but whatelse could I expect? She didnīt look angry as much as confused. And she couldnīt decide what do with herself after having arranged her skirt over and over again. I could almost see her mind working...going round in circles, trying to find a way out of the situation...getting desperate... She tried to look dignified but only ended up
looking defeated. Yeah, thatīs the word.
Defeated.
I was the first to break the silence after all the apologies were made. I didnīt come up with anything brilliant to say, but, hell...I did try. "Now why did you have to go and run away from me, pet? I just wanted a word..." I tried to sound gentle, but it came out sounding arrogant and patronizing. I saw her eyes darken in a fury and almost winced myself.....yikes!
"What the hell were you trying to do? Kill me???? God, I almost banged my head on the pavement!!!! Donīt you know your own strength???" Actually I donīt. I keep forgetting to be gentle. Itīs like opening a can of beer without crushing it...I can never do that. Or closing a door without banging it. Or draining a human without breaking his neck....and so on.
"And my skirt??? My mother gave it to me two days ago!!!! And now... and now..." She sounded pathetically miserable. And I felt pathetically miserable for ruining her skirt. All of a sudden she got up. Of course her skirt fell open again and this time I saw a whole lot more than just her thigh...but anyway!, she got up and started walking away, looking fearfully over her shoulder to see if I would follow her. Which of course I did. What the hell else did she expect me to do? I wanted to make it up to her. Buy her some new clothes or something...of course when I suggested it, she got mad again, the little spitfire....I canīt remember a single word I said that didnīt make her angry. Except the apologizing bit. Women.....
She told me I was making her feel cheap with all the clothes talk. "Iīm not a doll, I donīt need you to buy me any clothes." Well, at least she didnīt sound too angry when she said this. She sounded tired, like she was running low on batteries or something. Which was much more to my liking. I hope she wasnīt tired of me...damn it, what if she was? Now Iīll be up all day thinking about this...
I THOUGHT WRITING A DIARY WAS SUPPOSED TO HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh hell....my headīs screaming. I donīt think I can write anymore. OK, let me just finish this before I go get myself some dinner. A nice, scrumptious shopkeeper. Or two. And some aspirine... Come on, mate...focus!
Ow,ow,ow,ow,ow......
Well, there I was, my first peace-offering having been brutally rejected by a scrap of a redhead with an attitude problem...and barely holding on to my patience. Another snappy refusal and I would have taken her over my knee and given her a good spanking...either that or a good kissing...man, she looks good in a temper. I have to get her riled up more often...
Anyway...anyway....damn, Iīve forgotten what I was gonna say next. Oh yeah, I offered to take her home on one, no two!, conditions. I was real smart too, now that I look back. Played it cool..."Well, luv, itīs like this. Weīre in Sunnyhell...errrmm...Sunnydale, itīs dark and there are a lot of psychos out there who wouldnīt mind sinking their teeth into ya. Even if you are a bit skinny (she looked really pissed off at this remark, for some reason...go figure). So, either you let me take you home and give me your phone number and promise me that youīll let me take you out to dinner one of these days (ermm.. nights) or Iīll leave you to get home all by yourself and your parentsīll probably start calling the cops first thing in the morning. What am I saying? Theyīll call the cops in less than two hours...".
She starts giving me this smile all sweet and polite...but I can see sheīs not pleased. She doesnīt known whether to accept my offer or tell me to go to hell. She frowns, sighs, frowns again (looking really cute the whole time), looks at me dubiously and then finally surrenders to the evidence.
"Well, since you put it in that charming (ouch!), gentleman-like way, how can I refuse? But bear this in mind: you have a LOT to learn where women are concerned!" And starts walking real fast. Ha!
Women.....grrrrrr.............
OK, OK, Iīm almost done here. I took her home, saw her go inside......but not before I took her in my arms and gave her the kiss of her life (no tongue though, I didnīt want to piss her off any more than need be. Ermmm... maybe it wasnīt the kiss of her life after all...have to do better). She got mad and slapped me, but it was worth it.
She went inside and I took the opportunity to check out the house for ways to get in. Cause Iīm gonna get in. Sheīs gonna invite me in one of these days...and then...
By the way, just one last thing. I am gonna take her out on Friday night. I kinda made her promise. Just before the kiss...hmm....
What do you think I should wear? Come on, mate, help me out a little! Be grateful, youīre the only listening soul Iīve told all of this...
Anyway......till next time! Adieu!
Spike
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