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Published:
2020-11-05
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A Steampunk love affair

Summary:

The first time Spike saw it, it was love. The story of a vampire and a vehicle and the lady that loved them both.

Work Text:

A Steampunk love affair
by Lilithangel

Fred knew as soon as she saw the first patent that this would be the perfect gift for Spike after just a few modifications. Lighting the small boiler was still a hit and miss affair like all steam powered vehicles and the water took a while to heat up but she was certain she could make it more efficient.

A tricycle made reasonable sense. The two wheels at the back kept the boiler and water tank stable while a single wheel at the front made steering easier and more agile. She knew it would drive Spike crazy waiting for the water to heat up but a smaller version of the flash burner she’d fabricated for the Sevile would sort the problem. And with just a few more improvements she was certain the tricycle could reach the dizzying speeds of 50 miles per hour maybe even faster. A speed that might frighten a human but would guarantee to exhilarate a certain vampire.

Fred closed her eyes briefly and composed herself, the reminder of why Spike needed the tricycle almost too awful to bear. Angel and Spike himself assured her he would be right as rain in no time at all, but he was so fragile trapped in his chair needing Angel’s assistance just to get around the house. He kept up a brave face to the occupants of the house and his chums from the Slap Bang club but she was gratified that he let his guard down around her and grieved on occasion.

She herself kept up a cheerful façade whenever possible but relished the challenge she had set herself. Considering the design Fred expanded the seating to allow for two if they were willing to budge up and be cosy. Of course Fred was always willing to budge up with Spike.

She toyed briefly with clockwork gears for propulsion but knew the precision would be damaged at the speeds she anticipated the tricycle would travel. There were four cylinder engines out there that would work rather well with a smaller flash burner but a few modifications would make one smaller and more efficient so that the water reservoir didn’t impact on the overall balance of the machine.

Bicycle wheels had been her first option but the tubes made the machine skittish so she stripped off the narrow tyres so they were more like wagon wheels. It wasn’t going to be the most comfortable of rides but Fred was sure Spike wouldn’t mind, but she had a few ideas about that too.

“Winifred…” Angel came down the stairs to her laboratory carefully. “What is that over your mouth?” Angel couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s a respirator, designed to help me breathe.” She said, “Spike helped me build it.” Copper tubing ran from the sides of a mask to a cylinder on her back mounted with straps over her shoulders. Combined with her magnifying goggles she looked a little like an alien preying mantis but Angel would never dream of saying such a thing.

“What is that smell?” he said coming back to what had brought him down there.

“I’m attempting to recreate Mr Goodyear’s rubber vulcanisation process,” Fred’s reply was muffled by the copper and fabric mask covering her mouth. “I have an idea for better vehicular tyres to make the ride more comfortable.”

“Oh, alright then,” Angel said carefully backing up the stairs again, “are you going to be much longer only the entire house smells of rotting eggs.”

“I’m sorry Angel,” Fred said, “I think I’ve almost got it right.”

“It isn’t going to blow up the house is it?” Angel asked hovering at the door suddenly uncertain that he should leave her down there.

“No, I’m almost certain it won’t,” she said as confidently as she could from behind her mask. “Would you be so kind as to inform William that I will visit with him soon?” Fred knew how much her lack of formality with Spike discomforted Angel and tried not to tease him too much about it.

“Of course,” Angel said, grateful for an excuse to take his leave.

Fred sighed and returned to the rubber. She had it to the right consistency, now all she had to do was shape it and adhere it to the wheels.

* * * * *

Spike stared at the door. He hated that door with all his being. It trapped him in his room and separated him from everything that mattered, but at that moment it was his only protection. Angel had told him Fred was intending to visit and had offered to assist him to dress appropriately. After all a gentleman did not receive a lady in his bedchamber in normal circumstances and certainly not in his bed clothes, but Spike didn’t want to waste precious time getting dressed. He’d had several twinges in his legs that morning and been able to flex his toes so he was determined to greet Fred as a gentleman should, on his feet even if it was in his nightshirt.

Spike manoeuvred his legs off the edge of his bed and levered himself into a sitting position. He could feel the floorboards under his feet albeit slightly numbly but it was so much more than he’d felt before so emboldened by the sensation he grabbed hold of the headboard and the escritoire and attempted to stand.

It was precarious and his legs were damned weak but he was standing on his own at last. He looked up from his contemplation of his feet at a knock on his door which opened to reveal a slightly dishevelled Fred.

“Spike, you’re standing,” she said with surprise and delight that warmed his bruised spirit.

“A gentleman should always stand when a lady enters the room,” he said gallantly with a half bow that promptly made him stagger and sit down heavily.

“Are you alright?” Fred said with concern, kneeling beside the bed.

“Only my pride was damaged,” Spike admitted, “I did so want to greet you properly.”

“You did,” she replied her eyes shining; “you were standing Spike.”

“Don’t cry Fred,” Spike said gently wiping away the tear running down her cheek.

“I was so worried about you,” she said, “but I always knew you’d get better and I have a surprise for you as soon as you’re able to walk outside.”

“What sort of surprise?” Spike asked her curiously.

“A good surprise,” she teased and wouldn’t tell him anything more no matter how he wheedled.

* * * *

It took a few more days but finally Spike was able to stand and tie his cravat, pull on his own trousers and make his way to join everyone for supper.

Fred’s smile was blinding and Lorne leapt up to pull a chair out for him. Even Angel and Wesley looked pleased to see him and Gunn nodded from across the table.

“What are everyone’s plans for this evening?” Lorne asked jovially.

“Spike and I are stepping out for a while,” Fred said quickly, “to take the air. We won’t be long but I thought he’d like to be outside for a change.”

Spike looked at her in surprise but nodded, she was absolutely correct he’d been getting antsy stuck inside for so long.

“If you think you’re up to it,” Angel said and Spike refrained from any comment that might spoil the moment.

“We’ll return the instant he tires,” Fred promised.

Spike relaxed and let the rest of the meal continue around him musing on just what surprise Fred had in store for him. It was nice to be a part of everything again.

After supper Angel retired to his study and the other three men disappeared to their usual haunts. Lorne to Caritas and Wesley and Gunn to wherever it was that took their attention. Fred went upstairs to change and Spike took the opportunity to get his great coat on without being watched. He was still weak from the demon attack that confined him to bed for the better part of two months but he wasn’t prepared to be confined for another moment.

Fred came down the stairs buttoning up her leather coat juggling her bag and a scarf. She wrapped the scarf around Spike’s neck with a slight blush and allowed Spike to take her bag and offer her his arm.

“Where are we off to this fine evening, Miss Burkle?” Spike asked as she tucked her hand into his arm.

“Around to the mews if you are certain you’re up to it,” she said.

“Walking with you is never a hardship,” Spike said and they walked on in companionable silence.

To Spike’s surprise she led him past the door to where the Sevile was housed and unlocked another door.

“I know you love driving but the Sevile isn’t really the fastest vehicle especially for a vampire and I thought you’d maybe enjoy something a little quicker,” she said. “It was a fascinating exercise actually. Monsieur Serpollet’s flash boiler, the one I adapted for the Sevile, was quite easy to adapt for a smaller carriage. I had to experiment with rubber to make it more comfortable…” she stopped under his indulgent gaze. “I’m babbling aren’t I?”

“You’re beautiful when you’re enthused,” Spike said making her blush even more.

Fred flung open the door to hide her embarrassment and Spike blinked into the gloom. Slowly he could make out a contraption of some sort. Two big wheels and one smaller one in the front with large rubbery looking tubes around them. A bicycle steering device and one of Fred’s flash boilers mounted on an engine in the back, completed with a buggy seat and lamp.

“I haven’t come up with a name for it yet,” Fred said, “and tonight will be the first test drive if you were interested…” she trailed off nervously.

“A steam powered bicycle?” Spike said.

“Technically a tricycle,” Fred said, “but essentially yes.”

“You made this for me?” Spike looked at her in awe.

“It should travel over 50 miles an hour,” she said with a shy smile, “a bit more exciting than the Sevile anyway.”

“50 miles an hour?” Spike’s eyes widened. “A jolly lot more fun than the Sevile. It looks like it seats two…” he added looking at her.

“It made the steering a bit trickier,” Fred replied before she realised he’d guessed her plan.

Together they wheeled it out and Spike checked it over completely while the water heated. The flash boiler meant they didn’t have to wait as long as normal and Spike offered his arm to assist her up.

“Will you be alright with your skirts?” Spike said.

“Don’t tell Angel or Wesley,” she said with a wicked look, “but I’ve decided to dress rationally.” She pulled back her coat to reveal pantaloons.

Spike’s eyes widened and he looked away quickly only to peek again.

“Is it too fast?” Fred said in dismay at his reaction.

“No,” Spike said quickly, “it’s eminently practical and sensible for a test drive. I was just a little surprised.”

“I thought you’d like them,” Fred said sadly.

Spike risked another look desperate not to upset Fred. There was a lot of fabric there still, nothing at all like the tightness of his trousers. Trousers that suddenly became a lot tighter at the thought of Fred in men’s clothes.

“I think you’d look wonderful in anything you wore,” he said honestly catching up her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

She blushed and allowed him to assist her into the seat and clamber up carefully beside her while she put on her driving hat and goggles. She showed him the brake lever, gearing pedal and steering and with a shared grin Spike released the brake and guided them off.

It didn’t take long before they were whizzing along the cobbles and Fred was clutching onto Spike’s arm for dear life. It was already faster than anything she’d be on before including the last abortive attempt at riding a horse when she’d visited her family.

Spike’s face was a picture of sheer exhilaration and Fred kept sneaking glimpses as he negotiated the tight corners and narrow streets. The few denizens still out and about watched them pass in shock and some disapproval but they were gone too fast to care.

Finally the street widened as they went over London Bridge and into the Borough. Fred regretted not designing something to measure their actual speed because she was certain they were travelling faster than her estimated 50 miles an hour.

Spike carefully slowed the tricycle down and brought it to a halt as the water tank ran low. Impulsively he turned and hugged Fred.

Fred happily hugged him back. “So you like it then?” she said into his shoulder.

“It is the most wonderful thing ever,” Spike said, “You should call it the Burkle Engineered Tricycle or Betty for fun.”

This time it was Fred’s turn to be impulsive as she kissed Spike on the cheek flustering him. “You may call it whatever you wish,” she said, “since it is yours.”

“You can’t mean that,” Spike said, “this is far too wonderful a thing to give to me.”

“I can’t think of anyone more deserving or suited to owning Betty,” Fred insisted.

“Thank you for the most thoughtful gift Miss Winifred,” Spike said formally. “We need to find water to return home,” he added to hide his delight.

“You’re very welcome,” Fred replied.

Spike kept the return trip to a more staid speed, not wanting to discomfort Fred any. He’d been unable to resist the speed to begin with but he’d seen how nervous it had made her and resolved to really test Betty’s paces on his own when he was completely healed.

They returned Betty to the mews and made their way slowly back to the house as Spike’s energy ran out, although his joy did not.

 

END