gen_storyteller

Title: We Will Remember Them...
Author: lilachigh
Rating: PG at moment. NC17 later
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ME

Story written for Writer Con 08 Banner Challenge. Wonderful banner made by kazzy_cee







We Will Remember Them….


They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Laurence Binyon

London - 1943

The shackles on his ankles had rubbed his skin raw and the ones round his wrists bit into his flesh like claws. But as William the Bloody, Big Bad, Scourge of Europe, or Spike to his friends, shuffled along the corridor, he was angrier with the fact that his captors had refused to give him a rotten cigarette!

How bloody petty could you get, he cursed under his breath as one of his guards pushed him through a door into a dimly lit room, situated deep in the bowels of the Tower of London. Keeping a bloke from having a fag. It was an unwritten rule. When you were about to be executed you got some poxy church guy preaching prayers at you, a final meal and a last cigarette.

Well, he’d had the prayers – although what good the sodding vicar thought he could do for a vampire Spike wasn’t quite sure. And although he’d plainly asked for a nice roast chicken, he’d got a miserable inch of blood in a cracked mug! Some last meal.

And now no cigarette. Spike sighed and stared round the room, looking for the execution squad. He was actually quite interested in the logistics of his own second death. Would they all rush at him with stakes, only one of which would be made of wood. He knew most firing squads only had real bullets in one gun.

“Sit down!”

The voice came from the far corner of the room. Spike squinted through the gloom, but it was hard to see through the dried up blood that was still covering his eyelids. But he knew the voice. Well, not the actual person, but the accent – some public school, army poofter talking with a plum in his mouth.

But sitting down would be a change from being chained to a wall, so he sat. “Well, get on with it then,” he said as the silence lengthened. “Haven’t got all bloody day to die.”

“You expect to die then, vampire?”

Spike winced as his cut lips twisted into a smile. “Well, I sodding well don’t expect you to let me live, mate.”
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Title: The Wrong Girl
Author: lilachigh
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ME



THE WRONG GIRL by Lilachigh

When the knock came at her door, Tara felt her heart actually leap in her chest. Her hand jumped and the jar of spaghetti sauce she was holding splashed in all directions. It was Willow! Come to say she was sorry. Come to make things right in some way. Come to tell her that she would never, ever do magic for gain or try to control Tara, or -

She flung open the door, her lips already moving in welcome – “Spike!”
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