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Beta'd by
Kitty and posted in
celebration of her Birthday. I would like to dedicate this fic to her and
also to Amejisuto who has taken a fall and is
not feeling too good at the moment. Love you both.
Crazy. That’s what
he said I was, totally out of my mind crazy. This from a complete
stranger. If I hadn’t thought he was quite so damn right, I would have
clocked him. Bastard.
He’d only been enjoying the night, I guess; enjoying the club and enjoying
the atmosphere. Then he’d made what could have been the most costly
mistake of his life. He’d spoken to me. That was when Spike went crazy. He
totally freaked out. Apparently, I was flirting. Apparently, I’m nothing
but a slut when I’ve had a few to drink. I managed to stop him from
ripping the innocent stranger limb from limb, but I didn’t quite manage to
stop him from wrecking half the club.
Then, he’d asked. The stranger had asked why I bothered with such a freak.
He said I was totally out of my mind crazy. Of course, he hadn’t counted
on vampire hearing. Spike stopped trying to punch a hole the size of a
window into the wall and concentrated on trying to rip out the guy’s
innards. I had to put myself between them. I earned myself a lovely
‘shiner’ for that little act of bravery.
All the way home I thought about what that stranger had said. He said I
was crazy. Me. Totally out of my mind crazy. Me. Not Spike. Me. I mean,
hey, I wasn’t the one acting all psychotic. So why was I on the end of
that particular observation?
Am I crazy? For being with Spike?
Do you think that Spike getting growly and jealous and smashing up that
club made me hot for it? Do you think I get off on the violence? I don’t.
I hate it. I hate that Spike thinks that he can control me. Who does he
think he is, trying to tell me who I can and can’t talk to?
Spike scared a lot of people tonight. I don’t think that’s acceptable. So
I told him.
At least I waited until we were in the privacy of our own home before I
let rip.
My throat hurts now. I think I screamed too much. I really regret throwing
those dishes. That’ll be the third time we’ve had to replace them this
year. But that was Spike’s fault for saying that I deserved the black eye.
I didn’t deserve it. And I know that he didn’t do it on purpose. It just
really fucks me off that he’d rather pretend that he deliberately hit me
than admit that his aim was off. Daft bugger. And yeah, I have been living
in England far too long.
Do we fight a lot? Sometimes. Do we have hot, passionate, kinky sex
afterwards? Of course. Sex with Spike is crazy. Crazy, wild, monkey sex. I
like it. But it’s not why I stay.
I stay because we like the same cartoons.
I stay because he takes me to museums.
I stay because he sometimes brings me breakfast in bed. I learned early on
to enjoy my toast cremated.
I stay because he confides in me.
I stay because he makes me stronger.
I stay because he sometimes lets me wear his famous leather duster
We have crazy sex, crazy fights and both have crazy taste in Japanese
horror films.
I go crazy with excitement whenever he comes home.
He goes crazy with fear if I’m more than ten minutes late back from work.
We’re crazy obsessed with each other. Yeah, it’s definitely a two way
thing. Craziness is infectious, you know?
Is it crazy that I’ll sit here staring at the door until he cools down and
comes back home?
Is it crazy that I know he’ll be back with an apology larger than his ego
in exactly five minutes and forty six seconds? Maybe.
So am I crazy? Yeah, commit me ‘cos, craziness? Thy name is Xander.
Oh, here he comes! And he’s bought me…flowers?! Now, *that* really is…
~fini~
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Suki Blue Fiction