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Cyrano the Bloody

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Summary: Spike helps out a fellow bitch of love... William-style.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Spike-CenteredechoFR1311,779052,8709 Apr 059 Apr 05Yes
disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Whedon or Rowling.
AN: For daenira, for good guessing.


Draco banged his head against the table in the library of the newly-reformed Watcher's Council after Dawn Summers stormed off. This shouldn't be so bloody difficult. He was Draco soddin' Malfoy. Women were supposed to fall at his feet. Some of them were even supposed to fall naked. How was it he was having so much trouble landing one little girl from California?

"Girl troubles?"

Draco looked up and glared at the blonde vampire who had his boots propped up on the table he was sitting at. If Giles saw this, he'd have a fit. He was forever knocking Spike's boots from the tables and other bits of furniture. Draco gave him a harsh glare. Spike seemed utterly unaffected by it. Draco scowled. He'd come to this place to be a watcher because he found that he actually liked it. It appealed to him. It was just an added bonus that his chosen profession irritated his parents to the point of having fits. He'd counted on, and relished, the uproar his choice causing in the wizarding world.

What he had not counted on was fellow watcher in training Dawn Summers who was perhaps the loveliest muggle he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Not that it's any of YOUR affair... but suppose I am having girl troubles. What's it to you?"

Spike closed the book he'd been pretending to read since his Niblet had stormed into the library and lit into this Malfoy character. "Could be I might be able to help you out."

Draco folded his arms across his chest. "And why would you do that?"

Spike nearly chuckled. Why? He sorta liked the little punk-ass, that's why. Draco reminded him of, well, him. If Malfoy could just get over himself, he'd likely make the little bit a real good boyfriend. She needed someone with a bit of fire, and princess pouty pants here fit the bill in a big way. He was a right tantrum thrower. Spike still couldn't figure out why Giles had it in his head that this git would make a good watcher.

But watcher-ability aside, Spike recognized that younger man would make things interesting for the littlest Summers. She'd been a bit down, he'd noticed, since coming to stay with them after he'd helped save the world. Again. Spike would like to hear a real laugh from her lips. He would like her distracted enough not to yearn for what she could not have. She could have snotty pale ass here. She could make him into a real boy. Dawn had that sort of magic to her. She just hadn't found the right sort of wood to play good fairy to. No pun intended.

"Why? Because big sister and all the surrogate family members 'round these parts think you're obnoxious, which you are, but I like putting bees in their bonnets. And I suspect that if you let that rigid snotty guard of yours down, she'd honestly like who you are. Plus, you remind me of me, and that would piss Xander off. The only two things that would get that wanker's knickers in a twist more would be if the bit started fancying myself or Angel. If she went for the big bad brow, that would be the ultimate, but he's not her type.... you and I are. But I'm regulated to the role of overprotective big brother bad in this tale, so that leaves you as Prince Charming. We'll have to work on the charm part, obviously."

Draco's eyes had gotten wide. "You..."

"Want her to have what she don't even know she wants? Yeah. I swore a long while back that I'd look out for her. I aim to keep keepin' on in that area. I been a bit lax while fighting the good fight in Hell-A, but I'm here now. Can get back to that little mission."

"I don't-"

"Understand me? Yeah well, join the club, pale rider."

"All right then. Suppose I allow you to assist me. What do I do first here?"

Spike smirked. "May you ought to try something like... My soul is wrapped in harsh repose, midnight descends in raven-colored clothes, but soft... behold! A sunlight beam, cutting a swath of glittering gleam. My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in it, inspired by your beauty.. effulgent."

Draco's mouth was now gaping slightly in shock.

"Or you know, something in your own words."

"You wrote that?"

"A long time ago."

"About... Dawn?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "No, moron, it was about a girl I knew when I was mortal. Bloody hell, I wrote it well over a century ago, and I was human at the time to boot."



"You have layers. Who knew?"

Spike snorted. "It's what I've been on about, dumbass. You are like me. We both have hidden layers. The right bird will bring them out. I think my Niblet is the right bird for you."

"So what do I say?"

"Well, what do you want to say?"

"I don't 'do' this poetry nonsense. I'll never come up with something that has stuff that rhymes with words like effulgent in it."

"Humor me."


"First thing that comes to your spoiled head, boy. What if Dawn's right here? What do you say to her?"

"That she ought to just stop resisting and be with me because I'm great."

Spike sighed. This was going to be more difficult that he suspected. He stalked over to Giles' desk and grabbed a pen and some paper. He stalked back and plunked them down before Draco.

Draco lifted the plastic ball-point. "What in the bloody hell is this gaudy muggle thing?"

"It's called a pen. You're going to write with it."

"I prefer a quill and ink."

"Well, William Shakespeare, you'll just have to deal with being in the twenty-first century and do as the non-magicking humans do, won't you? Now... what do you like about her?"


"Dawn, you stupid prat. What do you like about Dawn?"

"Her boobs?"

Spike smacked him up the back of his head.


"Niblet is not going to be swayed by verse about her breasts. That sort of poetry is more appropriate for Faith and would be in limerick form with phrases about what you could do with body parts that rhymed with Nantucket. Try again, Mini-me."

Oh what bliss
And bit of verse
Of how I could kiss
Where your baby could nurse

Spike shook his head. He'd have to file that bit away for later.

"Her hair's nice."


"Soft. I accidentally touched it once. It was soft."

"Keep going."

"Her eyes are like what the ocean should be, a clear bright blue. Like the sky when it starts to get dark. I could drown in them."

"And you say you don't 'do' poetry. Write this down... Your eyes, likes skies, of a setting sun time..."

Draco stared at Spike until Spike motioned with a fair amount of irritation for him to start the writing NOW. Draco hunched over a bit and began scribbling away.

"Your hair, my fair, of a softness sublime... You I could drown in, you I will be found in... If you would but chance, to dance this dance."

Draco looked up at him. "Bloody hell That's not half bad at all."

Spike smirked. "Thanks. Now sign your name to it, and slide it under her door."

"But I didn't-"

"Will you just do it. Trust me, dammit."

"Fine, but if this blows up in my face, I'm hexing you."

Spike snorted.


It was some time later that evening when Dawn appeared in his doorway. She had an exasperated look in her eyes.

"Evening, Niblet. What's the what?"

She just held up the paper with Draco's little poem.

"What's that?" He asked innocently.

"Don't play innocent with me, William the Bloody Awful Poet. You suck at it."

"Now see here-"

"You didn't think I'd recognize your work, Spike?"

"I was just helping the bloke out. Those ARE his feelings, Niblet. I just arranged the words prettier than he could. He's not a bad little fella for a snotty brat. You ought to give him a sliver of a chance."

"I have."

"I mean, I know he thinks an awful lot of himself, and... what?"

"Your little ploy worked. Just not like you expected. I can't have him taking romantic advice from you, Spike. I figure it's safer to just date the little ferret instead of having you coach him. I mean, look at your relationships."


"Besides... he's a lot like you actually. I figure the only way I could piss Buffy off more would be by dating Angel, but that's just... eww."

"Can I quote you on that to his hairgel-ness?"

Dawn giggled. "I love you, Spike."

He stiffened.

"Not like that, you big goober. I don't take my sister leftovers."

Spike frowned.

Dawn sighed. "Foot in my mouth much? You know what I mean. I may have had the monster of monster crushes on you, but your eyes were always on my sister. I can't compete with that. I wouldn't want to try. What we have is special as it is."

He held out his hand to her. Dawn placed a hand in his. He was glad she'd finally gotten over her desire to have him wake up on fire.

"I love you too, little bit. Always."

She leaned up and delicately pecked his cheek before turning to leave. She paused in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

"Yes, pidge? Something else?"

"The poem was really beautiful. Thank you."

"His heart, my arrangement of words. I didn't do so much."

"Don't resign yourself yo the role of messenger here, Spike. It was a bit more than that."

"Just want you happy, Niblet."

"Thank you." She said almost whisper-soft as she closed the door.

But his vampire ears heard it. Spike smiled.

Now if he could just find some bird of his own to finish the boob poem for. Come to think of it, Faith wasn't dating old Robin Wood any longer, but she was tucked away nicely in the hellmouth in Cleveland. Then there was also, the ever-changing of hair cousin of Draco. Nymphadora Tonks. She was lovely to look upon... when she had HER features. Hmmm... she could be worth a few verses.

Your eyes,
Like skies,
Of a setting sun time.
Your hair,
My fair,
of a softness sublime.
You I could drown in.
You I will be found in.
If you would but chance,
To dance this dance.


end mini

The End

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