Title: Something White
Setting: AU based on Something Blue
Rating: T, probably (but it’s a WEIRD T)
Word count: 412
Summary: Around two years later, Meerkat!Buffy and Albino!Cobra!Spike seem to be under a mysterious spell. Can their love transcend species?
Notes: Thank you again to seapealsh for language beta. And that’s all from me today! I might finish a fic moodboard for one of the free for all days.
Buffy was a happy meerkat. She was starting another lovely day with her family, and her mate Spike was by her side to support her, like the wind beneath a goshawk’s wings.
She fixed some landslides at the burrow entrance and then sunned in the slanting morning light, while her lover combed her hair with his big, manly teeth. Spike’s skin and eyes were sensitive, so when the sun rose higher and Buffy led the group to search for food, he had to stay home and babysit their four youngest children.
Buffy made sure to visit during the midday break. She was tired from digging and running around in the heat, and Spike’s cool skin offered wonderful relief. Buffy lay on her stomach on top of Spike, her legs hanging off his sides, while the kids tumbled around them sleepily. Spike, who couldn’t safely bask in the sun because of his skin condition, basked in the soft warmth of Buffy.
Refreshed, Buffy fed the babies and caught Spike a lizard. He declined to eat it. Was he sick? He’d eaten in the morning, but he could be sick now, couldn’t he? Didn’t he know he needed to eat as much as possible every day to stay strong?
Instead of being reasonable, Spike went underground and led Buffy into one of the bedrooms. He crawled on top of her, which Buffy was so on board with, but then he kept twining his tail around hers, which, huh? It was almost as if he expected her tail to do something in return. Her man was so strange sometimes.
She loved him anyway. She sort of wished he had fleas, so she could catch them to show how much she cared.
Suddenly, everything changed.
Spike reminded himself what he was. A cold-blooded killer! And most definitely nobody’s pet fluffball. He slithered into a weaver nest, all the stories and passageways of it, and sucked the life out of every single egg. Afterwards, he lay among the eggshells, alone in the dark.
Buffy spent the evening groveling for taking Joyce’s place in the group. She even suckled the babies again. As she now remembered, they were really Joyce’s — like all babies should be, of course.
Late at night, Buffy lay in the cuddle pile in the depths of the burrow and thought about the two funny, spiky little appendages near Spike’s tail. She could swear they hadn’t been there before today. She wondered what they did.
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/581839.html