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Violently Happy	By : marksandspence Category: BtVS Crossovers > Misc - Het - Male/Female Views: 3216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part1a
- 2-Part1b
- 3-Part1c
- 4-Part1d
- 5-Part1e
- 6-Part2a
- 7-Part2b
- 8-Part3a
- 9-Part3b
- 10-Part3c
- 11-Part4a
- 12-Part4b
- 13-Part4c
- 14-Part4d
- 15-Part5a
- 16-Part5b
- 17-Part5c
- 18-Part5d
- 19-Part5e
- 20-Part5f
- 21-Part5g
- 22-Part5h
- 23-Part6a
- 24-Part6b
- 25-Part6c
- 26-Part6d
- 27-Part6e
- 28-p.s. Flight of Fancy
- 4
- 5
- 6
Scene 12
A restaurant in town. Miranda walks in, looking around—She’s dressed up, looking much more lively than the day before. She’s wearing a scarf around her neck. She sees Buffy sitting at a table and heads over.
Miranda: “Sorry I’m late. The lawyers postponed the inheritance meeting until this afternoon and so I wanted to be ready to head straight over after lunch.”
Buffy: “No problem. I’ve only been here a minute. Nice outfit—you look remarkably 21-ish.”
Miranda: “Thanks to you. Keep your fingers crossed. If all goes well, I’ll be able to open my shop and move out of that dreadful apartment building.”
They make small talk as they look at the menu. They order—Miranda gets a glass of wine—she hasn’t been looking forward to this confrontation.
Buffy: “So about this thing with Spike...”
Miranda: “Do we really have to have this conversation?”
Buffy: “Yes, we do. I don’t think you understand what you’re getting in to.”
Miranda: [obviously mildly annoyed] “And I suppose you’re going to explain it to me.”
Buffy: “That’s why we’re here. Listen, I understand that you feel this connection with him—the whole growing up together thing. I get that you’d want to spend time with him—talk about the old days and stuff like that...” [She’s not finished, but Miranda interrupts her.]
Miranda: “Well, yeah. That and he’s bloody gorgeous.”
Buffy: [scrunched up face] “Spike? I don’t know if I’d..." [M interrupts her again]
Miranda: “Have you ever actually looked at him? For more than a second? If you had, I think you’d agree that he’s strikingly handsome. So before you go on and on about emotional ‘connections’, which to be fair, do exist to some extent, you might want to consider that I may simply find him extremely attractive.”
Buffy: “Be that as it may, you need to be clear on what he is and what he’s done.”
Miranda: “Buffy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but you’re what, 22 years old? I’d lived four distinct lifetimes before you were even born. I feel pretty comfortable with my relationship skills and so forgive me if I’m skeptical about your ability to give me advice on what’s best for me.”
Buffy: “I’ll grant that you know more about relationships than I do, but I know more about vampires and that’s what you’re dealing with here. So just hear me out, ok?”
Miranda: “Point taken. Carry on.”
Buffy: “I know Spike seems like a regular guy to you, but he’s not. He has killed countless thousands of innocent people—including two slayers. And it wasn’t self-defense—he hunted them down with the sole purpose of killing them. If he could have, he would have killed me. Like I told him once, he’s like a serial killer in prison—the chip takes away his ability to hurt people, but it doesn’t change what he is. The minute that chip stops working—the minute he can feed again, he will. He can’t be trusted.”
Miranda: [listening politely, processing what Buffy just said] “And yet you fight alongside him. I find that a bit perplexing—Back in the day when fighting was my trade, I would definitely be more likely to sleep with a man I couldn’t trust than fight alongside him—there’s much more at risk in battle.”
Buffy: [dismissively] “He gets off on fighting and I can use his help—there’s nothing more to it than that.”
Miranda: “What’s to keep him leaving you in a lurch—at some critical moment when there’s more than you can handle on your own, just leaving you to get your ass kicked?”
Buffy: “He’d never leave a fight.”
Miranda: “That’s all there is to it?”
Buffy: “That’s all. Trust me when I say that if he could hurt you, he would. He’s a killer.”
Miranda: “Ok then. You’re objections have been duly noted—your obligation fulfilled.”
Buffy: [annoyed] “This isn’t a joke”
Miranda: “I know. I just think you all are taking this far too seriously. We just get on, is all—we’re having a bit of fun. I really don’t see the harm.”
Buffy: “Just be careful, OK?”
Miranda: [sincerely] “You don’t need to worry about me, Buffy. I can take care of myself. But I appreciate your concern.”
They finish lunch without talking much more about it. The mood is slightly strained, but not awful. Miranda held back telling Buffy that Spike could actually hurt her if he wanted to—she’s not eager to get into that discussion—her gut telling her that Buffy would be a bit put off by the biting business.
**
Spike’s crypt later that afternoon.
Miranda quietly opens the door and slips inside. She’s got a bottle of champagne and starts to sneak quietly towards the entrance to the ‘bedroom’ below. Before she gets very far, she notices that the TV is on and Spike is asleep on the couch in front of it. He is disappointingly clothed. She smiles and moves towards the couch. Once she’s standing right beside, she struggles with the champagne bottle to remove the cork without a loud pop—she only mildly succeeds. The cork pops, the champagne flows out of the bottle and onto Spike below, who immediately wakes up. She actually helps the flow until he grabs her wrist as he sits up. She’s now sitting on the outer edge of the couch.
Spike: [the shock/surprise is quickly replaced by a smile/smirk] “Hey—that’s cold. What are you on about, then?”
Miranda: “I figured you’d be in bed—champagne is always best drunk in bed—I thought it a fantastically clever idea to drink it off your chest because it wouldn’t get warm. But there you are, fully clothed.”
Spike: “That’s easily rectified—especially now that my shirt’s all wet.”
Miranda: “I think the moment’s past. Still, we’ve got cause to celebrate.” [She takes a swig and passes the bottle to Spike.]
Spike: “Why’s that then? [takes a swig and thinks for a moment] A week since our first snog?”
Miranda: “What are you, a girl? All right, we’ve got three reasons to celebrate. A week since our first snog, I’ve just signed the papers to get my inheritance and I think I’ve found a way to screw Claude.”
Spike: “Or, rather, NOT screw Claude.”
Miranda: “Exactly.”
Spike: “Sounds like you’ve had a busy morning—feeling a bit more perky, then?”
Miranda: “Actually, yeah. Yesterday seems a bit hazy—almost like it was a dream.”
Spike: “I could probably help with that—the Claude business—if you want.”
Miranda: “I was hoping you’d offer. I have a couple ideas; all of which I can’t quite manage on my own. Let’s hash it out tomorrow, all right?”
Spike: “Got something else on your mind to do tonight?” [naughty grin]
Miranda: “Maybe. [smile. pause.] The other night...was...well...let’s just say, you got my attention.”
Spike: [He sits up. She moves over and straddles him—sitting back on his legs. He runs his fingers through her hair] “I couldn’t sleep this morning, thinking about it—about you. [He pulls down her scarf to look at the bite mark.] Almost gone.”
Miranda: [She moves her hand to the mark on her neck and feels it, remembering…] “It was so...the intensity...it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I can’t help worrying if it was too soon or too much somehow...”
Spike: “I don’t think it was ‘too’ anything. [beat] S’different than anything I’ve done—not the same drinking from a victim or another vampire. [He strokes her neck gently with the back of his hand] Beyond all expectation.”
Miranda: “Is it wrong that I suddenly would be quite happy to spend every night with you?—When just last week I was reveling in my independence?”
Spike: “Very, very wrong.”
Their faces are very close now. After a minute of just being close, they kiss and things are starting to heat up again. Miranda pulls back after a minute.
Miranda: “Now YOU'VE got the timing all wrong. If we have sex now, then what’ll we have to look forward to?”
Spike: “uh, shagging again later?”
Miranda: “God, this is silly—I’m too old and wise for this kind of thing.” [big smile]
Spike: “What kind of thing?”
Miranda: “I’ve been thinking about this ALL DAY—sitting here with you on your couch, having a snog. For God’s sake, Buffy expended a great deal of effort this afternoon over lunch telling me all sorts of things about you that were meant to make me shudder, and yet all I thought about the entire time was whether or not to stop by this afternoon—would it be better to wait? But then patience has never been one of my virtues.”
As soon as Miranda mentioned Buffy, Spike stiffened a bit. Before Miranda had finished speaking, it was obvious that the mood had been somewhat broken. Spike leans back against the couch—obviously bothered by the fact of Buffy speaking badly of him.
Spike: “What did she say?”
Miranda was somewhat expecting this. She’d rather have everything out in the open—right now this is all fun and games, so why not be completely honest? She moves over and kneels on the couch next to him.
Miranda: “First, it was the usual “He’s a vampire. He has no soul. The chip doesn’t change who he is”—nothing terribly interesting from my perspective—nothing I hadn’t already considered. [brief pause] Then she told me about your penchant for hunting slayers—and your previous successes. I know she meant for it to be an indication of the blackness of your character—but in truth, I think it simply makes you different—different from other vampires. Instead of running from the one thing put on this earth to hunt you, you chose to not only turn and fight, but to hunt the hunter—to seek her out. I think that makes you brave. Is that why you came to Sunnydale—to kill Buffy?”
Spike: “Something like that—more like I was here and so was she, so I stuck around. [pause] Aren’t you going to ask?”
Miranda: “Ask what?”
Spike: “Why I didn’t kill Buffy? She must have told you that I was here for a bit before the chip business.”
Miranda: [casually and confidently] “I know why you didn’t kill Buffy. [He looks at her; surprised and curious] It wasn’t quite as easy as you’d thought...[pause] and then you fell in love with her.”
She was guessing—perhaps hoping to be wrong, but with a strong feeling that it was likely true.
Spike: [His ‘usual’ expression when he’s trying to deny something—similar to ‘Crush’] “What? no...I...”
Miranda: “It’s Ok. Really. I know something about that particular situation—or something similar. It’s not all that uncommon.”
Spike: [His demeanor moves from surprise to something akin to relief] “I don’t know how it happened...it just...” [He doesn’t finish.]
Miranda: “Lucky for me, and perhaps lucky for you, she is incapable of seeing you—of seeing anything other than what she expects.”
Spike: [somber] “So I’m lucky, then?”
Miranda: “Like I said, I know something about this kind of situation—you could never be what she thinks she wants and you could never be happy knowing that.”
Spike: “Maybe. Sorry. [trying to shrug it off] Guess we kinda got off the subject.”
He quickly lights a cigarette. She grabs the champagne bottle and takes another swig before handing him the bottle. The mood lightens a bit.
Spike: “So you weren’t too put off then? By what Buffy said?”
Miranda: “I’m here, aren’t I? Still, I think you should know that...that if I’d met you before—things would be different. I don’t mind what’s in the past—I respect who you were, but I couldn’t be with that person.”
Spike nods in acknowledgment of what she’s trying to say.
Spike: [trying to lighten things a bit] “So, does that mean that you ARE with me now?”
Miranda: [lifts her eyebrows, but doesn’t answer] “Listen, I can’t see you tonight.”
Spike: “What?”
Miranda: “I’ve got a date...[waiting for a reaction] with Dawn. I promised to take her shopping and out to a movie. [Looking at her watch] Oh, and I’m already late to pick her up. Shall I come by later?”
He responds in the affirmative and they part with a kiss. He’s still in a bit of a funk when she leaves. He sits on the couch and finishes the bottle of champagne.
End Scene
A couple weeks go by. Miranda is busy setting up her shop. She convinces Anya to work part-time for her as the antique shop is so close to the magic shop. Spike and Miranda continue to see each other regularly. They continue to have excellent sex—biting is less frequent (than the sex) but regular. Th gang is still not pleased with the situation, but don’t intervene in any substantial way because of what Miranda told Buffy—that it’s just a ‘fun’ thing and not to be taken too seriously. They still have no clue about the biting.
Scene 13
The Bronze. Buffy, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara arrive late-ish on a Saturday night and find Miranda and Spike at a table—They’ve obviously had a few; particularly Miranda who is smiling and laughing. After a brief discussion, the gang decides to join them and they walk over to the table.
Buffy: “Must’ve been a good joke.”
Miranda: “Not really. Between you and me, comedy isn’t his strong point. I’m just in the mood for a laugh.”
Spike: “Hey! I’ll have you know that I can be quite hilarious.”
Miranda: “Sarcastic more like. Anyway, drinks on me tonight.”
Anya: “ooh, yay! In that case, I want one of those frozen drinks—the ones Xander never lets me get because they’re so expensive.”
Xander: “I just don’t see why the use of a blender should add $5 to the price of a drink—it’s just crushed ice.”
Willow: [to Miranda] “What’s up with the celebratory vibe?”
Miranda: “Spike and I have just pulled off the most fantastic scam. [looking admiringly at Spike] I’ll tell you, he’s really got a head for it.”
Buffy: “The wankers up north?”
[at this Spike starts laughing]
Buffy: “What?”
Spike: “It’s just funny to hear an American say ‘wanker’—do you even know what it means?”
Buffy: “I know it’s an insult” [Willow whispers in her ear] “Oh” [embarrassed]
Miranda: “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll have to worry so much about Claude for a bit anyway. I’m telling you, it was a plan brilliantly conceived and flawlessly executed. [to Spike] I thought Claude was going to shit a brick when you walked in with that Manchester United t-shirt on—you looked so pissed.”
Spike: “Coulda been an actor, me.”
Miranda: “Not that football hooligan is that much of a stretch, really.”
[Confused looks all around]
Miranda: “It’s too much to explain. Leave it that Claude is now indebted to me and hasn’t a clue that I’m the one who put him there. God, I had no idea how much that whole thing was weighing on me—I feel absolutely giddy.”
Miranda comes through with the round of drinks, but it soon becomes too uncomfortable to bear—the gang can’t quite deal with the ‘couply-ness’ of M & S and they are fairly self involved to boot. Soon the scoobies head off to their own table and M & S head out (after a couple more drinks). Spike seems normal, but Miranda is quite tipsy—the relief she feels is palpable. They just leave the bar and are starting to walk in the direction of Spike’s crypt.
Miranda: “So. It seems to me that we work quite well together. Did you enjoy it?”
Spike: [a bit surprised] “Yeah. Never thought anything that didn’t involve actual killing could be so much fun. Of course, I did get to break stuff, which is another one of my favorites.”
Miranda: [getting an idea] “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in helping out on a more regular basis—you know, being partners or something in the antiques business. That is, if you don’t have a thing against sleeping with the boss.”
Spike: [mock skeptical] “’The boss’, eh. So not exactly ‘partners’, as such.”
Miranda: “Oops. I did say ‘boss’ didn’t I. [makes a face] Well, all the stuff is actually mine to begin with. I could pay you.”
Spike: “Never quite envisioned myself as a shop-keep. [considering] Keep the pay, lose the ‘boss’ and we’ll see how it goes.”
Miranda: “All right. [thinking] So does the no reflection business apply to video cameras? Because that could be quite useful—I’ve got an idea or two for acquiring a couple of rather expensive goodies.”
[As they turn a corner, they hear shouting from down an alley off the street that they’re walking down. It’s obviously a couple arguing about something—the woman sounds frightened and upset—the man angry. Miranda stops and peers into the alley.]
Miranda: “Wait here a minute, will you? I’ve been eyeing these two all night—maybe it’s the whiskey, but I feel the need to get involved. This kind of thing just pisses the hell out of me.”
Spike shrugs as Miranda walks purposefully down the alley toward the couple. (Spike follows slowly, but stays in the background, watching). The woman is a bit beat up—it’s fairly obvious that the guy is responsible. He’s apologizing, sort of, but going on about how it is kind of her fault, etc. He’s a big hulking/muscle clad sort. Miranda steps up to them.
Miranda: “Hello. Excuse me. I couldn’t help overhearing. I think perhaps you could use a bit of counseling. Consider me your guardian...er...relationship counselor.”
Guy: “I think you should learn to mind your own business, lady”
Miranda: “oh right. [looking around for a moment in a considering kind of way] Make me.”
Guy: “I don’t fight with girls.”
Miranda: “Really? That’s not what it looks like to me. Or do you mean you don’t fight with girls you think could kick your ass?”
At this, the guy (who is a bit drunk, too) starts to lunge towards Miranda. She uses his momentum and pulls him into the wall behind her. She then pulls him up (he’s kind of in shock after hitting the wall so hard) and does something to his neck (think marital arts/Vulcan death grip...you know what I mean). He’s standing, but doesn’t move.
Guy: “I can’t move. What did you do to me?”
Miranda: [flippant] “Not to worry. It’ll wear off in about 15 minutes—just a convenient pinched couple of nerves. [turning to the woman. Waving her over] Now, what’s your name?”
Girl: “Kelly”
Miranda: “Kelly. I’m taking a wild guess that he’s the one that gave you that black eye. Let me ask you, why did you let him do that to you?”
Kelly: [shrugging] “I’m afraid of him...and we’ve been together a long time.”
Miranda: “Right. Does what he did to you make you angry? Would you like to hit him back?”
Kelly: [more shrugging] “Sure. But he’ll just come after me when he’s free again.”
Miranda: “Ah. I see. Kelly, I’m going to tell you how I did what I did to him, so that you can do the same anytime he gets in one of his moods, all right?” [Kelly nods Miranda walks over to her and starts whispering in her ear so that they guy can’t hear.] “Now, Kelly, I can’t really tell you how to do it, because it’s something that takes years of training to get it right. But, I will pretend to show you how so that he will think you can do it. When I’m done, you can either run along home or if you’d rather, you can give him a good punch. [Miranda proceeds to pretend to show Kelly what to do.] Got it?” [Kelly firmly nods, while glaring at her boyfriend, who is, by the way, extremely freaked out by the turn of events] Oh and one more thing. When you punch him, remember to keep your thumb outside your fist—otherwise you might break it—particularly if you decide to go for the face. Personally, I’d kick him hard in the nads—lower body strength and all.”
[Miranda proceeds to walk casually away. As she does so, Kelly strides up confidently to the temporarily paralyzed guy and kicks him—she kicks him again and starts shouting at him. Miranda smiles and joins up with Spike a few steps away. Spike just gives her a look.]
Spike: “How do you know she won’t kill him?”
Miranda: “Did you see the size of him? No, she’ll just hit him a few times to know what it feels like to be the one in control. And then she’ll feel sorry for him and, hopefully then they can get on with things.”
Spike: “Not your typical sort of counseling.”
Miranda: “It’s like the cold war—nuclear weapons and such. The one with all the power makes all the rules—and abuses them. You simply need to BALANCE the power and then everyone can get along. Who knows, they may turn out to be in love. Or they may break up. Either way, no one is the superpower and no one is the oppressed.”
Spike: “Never took you for a republican. Into Reaganomics in the 80’s as well?”
Miranda: “Bite your tongue. I don’t know politics at all—only human nature—and relationships.”
Soon they reach Spike’s crypt. Spike lifts Miranda up and carries her over his shoulder inside—she’s laughing. He sets her down and they start kissing.
Spike: “You know, I’ve got some handcuffs—and some chains. How about a little something different tonight?”
Miranda: [a slightly disturbed look passes across her face, fleetingly] “Oh, I’m sorry, my sweet. I have a bit of a thing against being confined. You’ll find I’m quite open minded about most things—all except that.”
Spike: “What about scarves?”
Miranda: “Sorry”
Spike: “S’all right. We’ve got plenty of other options….”
[Author's note: Sorry, but I can’t spend all my time writing love scenes. There will be more to come, I promise. But for now, I want to get to the main events.]
End scene.
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