Willow paced around Xander’s basement, a scowl marring her pretty face. Xander just sighed; he’d been listening to her rant for a while now. He knew she was still broken up about Oz leaving, but really, now that she’d gotten to the point of bagging on her friends, he was starting to lose his sympathy. He sighed tiredly before responding to her latest petulant complaint.
“You know, Will, it's not like she could just let Spike go.”
Willow glared at him. “Spike's more important than me. I get it.”
He tried once again to smooth out her ruffled feathers. “Buffy's gotta find out what's up with those commandos. Right now she needs Spike.”
She pouted. “Well, fine. Why doesn't she just go marry him?” Xander was so fed up with her whining, that he completely missed the flash of blue light in her eyes.
**Back at Giles’ place**
Giles came out of the bathroom cleaning his glasses. He was worried about his rapidly fading vision, and Buffy and Spike’s arguing was not helping his nerves.
“If the two of you could remain civil long enough to—,“ he stopped and stared at the sight in front of him.
Buffy had her arms wrapped around Spike’s neck and was staring up at him in wonderment. “I just know we’ll be so happy,” she cooed.
Spike for his part was staring at her in abject horror. “What the bleedin’ hell are you going on about, Slayer?”
“Our wedding, silly.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. Spike flinched back and tried to disentangle himself from her embrace, but she just held him tighter. She really loved her Slayer strength. And, hey, bonus, she didn’t have to worry about hurting him the way she would a human boy.
“You’re off your nut, you are,” Spike exclaimed, as he finally broke away. Buffy pouted and reached for him again, but he evaded her by jumping behind Giles.
“Watcher, I’ve put up with a lot,” he began, “but this is the absolute end. You tie me up, feed me pigs swill, and now your Slayer fancies herself my bride-to-be???” Spike’s voice rose to a decidedly unmanly squeak on the last words. He cringed and cleared his throat before continuing. “Cruel and unusual, that’s what this is. I was better off with the commandos.”
Giles sighed in exasperation at his melodrama. “Well, you’re welcome to go back Spike. But, I assure you, I had nothing to do with…what exactly did happen?”
Before Spike could reply, Buffy jumped in, excitement ringing in her voice. “I know you don’t approve, Giles, but I love him. And, we’re going to be married!” She reached around Giles, trying, unsuccessfully, to grab Spike again.
“You see?” Spike complained, as he desperately evaded the Slayer’s grasping hands. “Off her nut. Looney toons. Gone carrot top. Pick your own soddin’ metaphor, the chit’s gone bleedin’ insane!”
Giles ignored Buffy’s indignant huff. “This is completely absurd. Buffy…” He trailed off in a distracted manner, blinking spastically before removing his glasses and cleaning them. “I don’t…don’t know what you’re thinking…but…hmmm…” He continued blinking.
Buffy stopped her single-minded pursuit of Spike to frown concernedly at Giles. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I rather think there is.” Giles sounded shell-shocked. He dropped his glasses, and swayed alarmingly. Spike found himself in the aggravating position of offering a supportive arm or being fallen on. He and Buffy helped Giles to the nearest chair and sat him down.
“What is it?” Buffy asked.
“I’m…I’m blind,” was Giles’ rather weak response. Really, being blind was perhaps his greatest fear. After all he had seen and done in his life, the mundane fear of loss of eyesight still held top spot.
“What?!?”
“I’ll get the scotch.”
Buffy’s shriek and Spike’s calm statement overlapped in the suddenly too quiet air of the apartment. Spike went into the kitchen, as Buffy knelt down next to Giles. She took his hand.
“Did anything happen?”
“Well, yes…I went blind,” Giles snapped.
Buffy’s chagrined look was wasted on the recipient. “I’m sorry. I meant did you get anything in your eyes that might have caused this?”
“I’m sorry for snapping dear,” he sighed in response. “Not that I can think of. I started having blurring this afternoon, and it’s just gotten worse, and now I can’t see anything.” The repressed, though still clear panic in his voice, alarmed Buffy more than anything else so far this evening. Giles wasn’t supposed to panic. She stood up, needing to be away from her mentor before she upset him even further.
“I’ll just get you something to put over them. A nice cool cloth…or something.” With that, Buffy escaped to the kitchen.
Spike was in the middle of draining a tumbler full of Giles best single-malt, when he was hit with a bundle of crying Slayer.
“Oh, Spike. What are we gonna do?” She sobbed quietly into his chest.
Spike looked down at her in shock. Was this sniveling, tear-soaked girl really his strong, independent, kick-ass Slayer? Since when did she become his? And, HEY, that was his silk shirt she was wailing on! He grabbed her arms and wrenched her back. Unfortunately, the sight of her tear filled, sparkling green eyes wiped the intended snark right from his lips.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said, automatically falling back into the soothing tone of voice he’d used so often with Drusilla. “That’s what you hero types do, isn’t it?”
“I don’t feel like a hero,” she whispered, her voice choked. “That’s Giles. He’s the answer man. I’m just the muscle.”
Spike sighed, unable to figure out how he’d come to be in this position. His Slayer…no THE Slayer, no possessiveness there at ALL…was looking to HIM for reassurance. Bloody Hell! “You’re not giving yourself enough credit!” He snarled in aggravation, though he couldn’t say if it was himself or her that pissed him off more. “You’ve beaten all kinds of Big Bads, including myself, on more occasions then I care to recount. You’re more resourceful then you think you are. So stop with the self pity, and get to being heroic.”
Buffy’s eyes glistened still with tears, but the rough pep talk had helped. She knew Spike was the one she could count on to keep her strong. She gave him a watery smile, and quickly fastened her lips to his.
Spike was too shocked to do anything other then feel. One moment he was channeling his poncy, inner-William, and the next he had a mouthful of Buffy. And what a mouthful it was. Soft lips teased his own, suckling gently on the lower. When her tongue traced his lips he gasped in surprise, and she took advantage of the moment to slide it into his mouth and tangle with his own. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.
Heat, blinding heat, pressed up against him. Soft and wiggly in all the right places. Hands running thru his hair. Buffy pulled, panting, away from his mouth, before trailing her lips down his neck, marking her path with little nips and sucks. Spike groaned again and bunched his hands in her hair, holding her to his neck. When she came to his siring scar, she laved it with her tongue, thoroughly enjoying the mewls he released in response. Without warning, she sunk her teeth into the mark, not breaking skin, but hard enough to hurt in all the right ways. Spike’s hips slammed up into hers in response, and he let out a loud snarl, before pulling her away and claiming her lips again. The murmured “I love you,” in between kisses, was what brought him back to reality and he shoved her away, HARD.
“Wha--?” Buffy was flushed and incoherent from the kissing and then the abrupt stopping of the kissage. Blindly she reached for Spike again, only to have her hands batted away.
Spike was pissed. He’d only tried to make her stop crying, because, Slayer or not, for some reason her tears bothered him. Then to get jumped for his efforts, and to respond to said jumping like she was the feast after a famine…Well, he just wasn’t going to stand for that.
“Bloody Hell!” He snarled. “I was trying to be nice not inviting you to assault me. Thanks for reminding me. I’m evil, I won’t do “nice” again!” He turned back to the glasses and scotch, and poured another tumbler full. “Now I have Buffy taste in my mouth!” He glared at her before taking a big swig of the liquor and swishing deliberately.
Buffy was unfazed by his protests. She could tell that he was going to be difficult about this, she just didn’t know why. It was inconceivable that he not share this burning, all-consuming love that she felt. But, if he needed time…
She looked up at him from under thick lashes. “I understand if you want to wait until our wedding night. You are Victorian after all.”
Spike, who had been mid-gargle, choked on his drink. “Victor--!!” He sputtered indignantly. “I’m no blushing virgin to be coddled!”
Green eyes twinkled at him, before Buffy pounced again. “Oooh, Good. That means we don’t have to wait.” She reached to pull him into another kiss, but at that moment, Giles plaintive voice was heard, calling from the living room.
Buffy sighed in disappointment. “I guess we have to help Giles now. You will help me figure out what’s going on, right?” She looked up at Spike under lowered lashes, her lip stuck out in a slight pout. She knew how to get what she wanted from boys. She figured the same principles would apply to Spike.
“Oh…bugger,” Spike grimaced. He couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit disappointed that the Watcher had broken their reverie. He was denying that fact viciously, but it was still a fact. And now she was looking at him with big luminous eyes…looking at him to help her fix it…looking at him like she needed him. That was something he hadn’t felt since Drusilla was sick. He shook himself. “I’m EVIL!”
Buffy smiled perkily, and leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheeks. “Yup,” she said, popping the “p”. “You’re the evilest.”
A short while later, Giles was pumped full of good scotch, and relaxing on the couch with a cool cloth over his eyes. They had determined that his blindness and Buffy’s sudden desire to wed, although she protested this vehemently, were most likely the result of a stray spell, and Spike had actually troubled himself enough to find a general reversal spell that looked pretty simplistic. Just because he didn’t like magic, didn’t mean he didn’t know his way around a spell book or two.
Buffy had tried to convince him to come with her to the magic shop to buy supplies by whispering erotic promises in his ear. Some of the things she had suggested cause shudders to ripple down Spike’s spine, from disgust he insisted to himself, rock hard erection not withstanding. Giles’ spluttering in the background did nothing to deter her as she attempted to climb his body like a clinging vine, and only his squeaked declaration that he would much rather wait for that until the wedding night, after all, convinced her to stop her “persuasion.”
So now, Giles was relaxing, or attempting to, given that he had a noticeably untied vampire babysitting him, and Spike was making a valiant effort at drinking himself unconscious.
When the silence became too heavy, Giles cleared his throat. “Erm…you’ve been rather helpful. Forgive me for saying so, but one can’t help but wonder why.”
“OI! That’s the thanks I get?” Spike indignantly yelped, before mumbling, “I’ll never learn.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the assistance you’ve provided,” Giles began soothingly. “I do. But you can’t blame me for asking what’s in it for you?”
“I should think that’d be bloody obvious, mate,” Spike snorted. “I won’t have Wedded Bliss Barbie crawling all over me anymore.”
“Yes,” Giles commented, sounding intrigued. “I do find it interesting that you weren’t effected by the spell. Do you think only Buffy and myself were targeted?”
“Possibly,” Spike answered. “Vampires are also spell resistant, so that may be why I’m not avidly planning my nuptials as well. Or whatever else may have been aimed in my direction.” He shuddered as he thought of all the possible spells that could have been cast at him, silently thanking his nature’s inherent magical armor.
“Magically resistant?” Giles, if possible sounded even more interested. Spike just knew that if he’d been able to see, he’d have been taking notes. “The Council never…” He trailed off as he realized the implications of that announcement.
“You were going to let me do the truth spell on you, knowing that it would have no effect?” Interest was replaced with outrage.
“Yeah, well…EVIL.”
“Yes,” Giles agreed. “I suppose it doesn’t do to forget that now.”
Silence reigned for a few moments, and Spike found himself somewhat regretful of the loss of companionship that he’d briefly felt with the Watcher. If he was going to be at the mercy of the White Hats, then it might behoove him to play fair. He was surprised to find that his demon didn’t rebel at the non-evil thought. ‘M still evil though, he thought, this is just a… a… temporary ceasefire. Yeah, that’s it.
He opened his mouth to (shudder) apologize, when Giles’ voice broke through his musings.
“I assume I don’t need to point out what will happen, should you decide to take advantage of Buffy’s obviously vulnerable state.”
The alcohol bottle that Spike had been holding was slammed down on the coffee table, causing Giles to jump.
His voice low, and tightly controlled, Spike growled, “I don’t do rape, Watcher.”
“As you so humbly pointed out before, you are evil,” Giles insisted. “According to Council reports-“
Spike cut him off. “The Council of Wankers knows bugger all about me. If they did, their reports would show that that particular game was Angelus’ prerogative, never mine.”
“I’m sure she would seem very willing in her current condition, Spike.”
“And you lot call me a disgusting thing,” Spike snorted indignantly. “She’s not in her right mind, now is she?” He asked before continuing, not giving Giles a chance to answer. “If I take her while she’s not really her, that’s the same as rape.”
“Are you telling me that you, a self-professed evil creature, a soulless vampire has a moral standard?” Giles sputtered incredulously.
“Like I said, Rupes,” Spike snarled, “you know bugger all about me. So shut the bloody hell up, before I demonstrate my evilness and see how close to killing you this chip will let me get.” With that he picked up the bottle again, and took a large swallow. Maybe playing fair with the White Hats wasn’t in the cards after all. Buggering gits.
Rupert was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he owed this prickly creature an apology. Before he could speak, the door opened announcing company. Buffy bounced in carrying a shop bag. Spike sighed with relief. One reversal spell, and this whole uncomfortable mess would be behind him. He still refused to acknowledge, why exactly, the cuddly affectionate Slayer discomfited him. His hopes were dashed when Buffy spoke.
“They were all out of Tagas Root at the magick shop. They'll have more tomorrow. I'm completely on top of it,” she beamed at him as she dug a large binder out of the bag. “But check out what I got.”
Spike groaned. “That had bloody well better not be what it looks like.”
“It’s a wedding planner!” Buffy squealed excitedly. “It has all kinds of neat information to help us plan our perfect day.” She bounced over and seated herself on Spike’s lap. Spike proceeded to sulk at her nearness, completely ignoring that shoving her to the floor was an available option. She leaned into him and opened the big book on her lap. “Honey, we need to talk about the invitations. Now, do you wanna be William the Bloody, or just Spike? Cause, either way, it's gonna look majorly weird.”
Spike snorted. “Where as the name Buffy gives it that touch of classic elegance.”
Buffy pouted. “What’s wrong with Buffy?”
Spike found himself transfixed by her mouth. Her lower lip jutting out just so…all ripe and luscious looking. He was completely unaware that he was murmuring his thoughts aloud. “Oh, pouty. Look at that lip…” Before he knew what he was doing, he had captured her lips with his own. Immediately he was lost in her sweet taste and her warmth pressing pleasantly into him.
Buffy was doing her own little mental happy dance. She KNEW he was into her. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him: he was obviously in denial. While his lips worked their magic, she decided to slip her hand a little lower, in an attempt to bring him out of Egypt. Before she could make first contact, they were interrupted by a pointed cough from the up-until-this-moment-quiet Giles.
“Stop that right now! I can hear the smacking.”
Buffy broke the kiss, pulling back from a slightly stunned Spike. “Sorry, Giles.” She turned back to her “fiancée”. “Look through this with me?” She asked sweetly, indicating the wedding binder.
Spike was only able to nod. He was struck well and truly speechless by that little make out session. Sure, it hadn’t been as hot as the one in the kitchen, but HE had instigated it. Him! William the Bloody had instigated intimate contact with the Slayer. What the hell? While Buffy babbled on about color schemes and other wedding frippery, that frankly no LIVE man is interested in, let alone a vampire, he tried to figure out just what had happened.
He mentally ticked off points. A: This is the result of a spell. B: Should he take advantage of Buffy (the Slayer, not Buffy, the Slayer) while she was under this spell, he would be dust in the wind the moment the spell ended. If Rupert didn’t get him first. Spike was speaking the truth to the Watcher earlier. He didn’t do rape. Never had, and he never stuck around for Angelus’ and Darla’s “parties” either. And he had no doubt, that if anything happened while she was under the spell Buffy would consider it rape. So, no, he didn’t really want this syrupy, saccharine version. He wanted HIS Slayer. The normal, high and mighty, bitch queen, strong willed, would never-look-at-him-twice Slayer. Okay, so maybe a little Buffy-sweetness would be a nice contrast.
He smiled ruefully. He always appreciated a strong woman. While he did take care of Dru while she was sick, his primary goal had always been to cure her and restore her to her dark glory. Spike never would have classified himself as a masochist, but the way his mind was wandering lately… No. It was just…hormones…or something. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by the spell as he’d originally thought. Because there was NO way he was feeling anything softer than pure loathing of his own free will. Right?
“Hey!” Buffy’s call snapped him back to the situation at hand. “Are you paying attention?”
Spike was unnerved to find that during his mental musings, his arms had crept around her waist, and now cradled her snugly against him. Her heat warmed him, and her soft round bum was wiggling in his lap. If she kept that up, then Little Spike would be standing up to make her acquaintance. As she gave another wiggle, he became sure that that was her intention.
Struggling to focus his mind on the conversation and not his dick, he responded, hoping to distract her with wedding crap. “Sorry, luv. Drifted for a minute. What were you saying?”
Buffy sighed, as the pet name rolled off his tongue in his deep accented voice. She could get used to that. “I was just showing you the cake toppers I found.” She held up a little bride and groom, presumably purchased at the same time as the binder. “Aren’t they a perfect little us?”
Spike stared at the little plastic couple. Mentally shrugging, he figured he’d indulge her. At least when she was talking about the wedding, she held still. “I don’t like him. He’s insipid. Clearly human.”
“Oo, red paint. We could smear a little on his mouth? The blood of the innocent.”
Spike grinned in genuine amusement. She was just too cute. In a completely loathsome way, of course. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to snark back with something cutting and hurtful, thereby removing the pleased smile from her face. She’d never looked at him like that before. He felt the same as when he was in the kitchen, and she’d looked at him with such trust and adoration. It’s been so long since he felt needed. And Spike needed to be necessary to someone.
He was saved from responding by Xander and Anya bursting through the door like something was after them. Buffy leapt to her feet, pulling Spike with her. Her fingers linked with his, she faced her friends. Spike couldn’t wait to see what their response to this whole thing would be. They watched in amazement as Xander attempted to maneuver a large bookcase in front of the door.
“Board up the windows,” he panted. “Barricade the doors.”
“What’s going on?” Giles asked.
‘”Demons,” Anya answered for her still out-of-breath companion. “They keep coming and coming.”
“I think we lost them, but I couldn’t see,” Xander said as he turned to face the group. Seeing Spike, he yelped, “Spike! He’s all untied.” He paused. “Which… you probably noticed.”
Buffy hastened to reassure her friend. “Xander, calm down, okay? If you lost them, that’ll give us some time to figure this out.” She turned to Spike. “Maybe the demons have something to do with Giles being blind.”
“Don’t know, pet. Not a lot of demons that go for casting spells.” Spike shrugged and continued. “Rituals, sure, but actual spells…we’re a pretty cautious lot.”
“Giles is blind?” Anya questioned.
Spike rolled his eyes as Xander walked over to Giles and started waving his hand in front of his face. To his amusement, Giles appeared to notice and wrinkled his face in disgust.
“Please stop whatever you’re doing. You smell like fruit rollups.” Giles complained.
“Better then smelling like Anya,” Spike mumbled. He put on his most innocent look when Buffy glanced at him. Smirking, he snarked, “This is the crack team that spoils my every plan? I am deeply shamed.”
Buffy rubbed his arm comfortingly, and he tried hard not to purr under the soothing touch. “You know,” she commented, “Spike’s right. We really should get organized.”
Neither of them noticed Xander and Anya now staring at them. “Why are you holding hands?” Anya wondered.
Buffy looked lovingly at Spike, who fidgeted anxiously under the harsh stares being directed at him. Cursing himself for suddenly reverting to Nervous William, he attempted to explain. “See that’s the thing, Giles is blind and Buffy thinks we’re-“
“We’re getting married!” Buffy’s excited screech echoed loudly in the small space. Spike winced at the pain it caused to his sensitive ears. One nice thing about NormalBuffy!, no pierced eardrums. She may be a menacing bitch, but at least it was quiet.
Xander was doing his landed fish impression; his mouth opening and closing. “How? What? How?”
“Three excellent questions,” Giles mumbled.
“I love you,” Buffy sighed, looking longingly at Spike. Moving with Slayer speed, she grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss. He stood carefully still, the spectators in the room preventing him from giving in to the feel of her lips pressed to his.
“Can I be blind too?” Xander’s groan attracted a glare from Buffy.
“Wait!” Xander exclaimed. Everyone in the room jumped at his excited shout. Spike winced from the pain to his sensitive ears. “Married…I know something…what is it? Everything’s so familiar…Work, brain, work! Oh! Oh! Oh! Willow!”
“Mm…what about Red?” Spike spoke around a kissing Buffy. “Mmm, luv, get off.” He gently pushed her away, trying to remain steadfast in the face of her pout.
“Something about Willow and her griefy-poor-me mood swings? So, so tired of it.” Xander continued.
Anya huffed, “You mean I don't have to be nice about her anymore? “
”Well, we're all tired of it, but what does it have to do with what's going on?” Buffy asked.
”She told me I was a demon magnet, a-and that Buffy should marry Spike.” This was said with a vague gesture in their direction.
”And…that I didn't see anything.” Giles commented with new understanding in his tone.
”Red did a spell.” Somehow Spike wasn’t surprised. He’d tried to tell them that she was barely holding it together, but nooooo. The evil vampire who’s been alive for over a century would have no insight into the human condition. Nope, none at all. He tried to reign in his bitterness.
Giles was continuing. “Yes…to have her will done. Whatever she says is coming true.”
”And you both were effected,” Buffy observed. “I probably only escaped because I'm the Slayer. Some kind of natural immunity.”
”Yeah. Right,” Xander snorted, “you're marrying Spike because you're so right for each other.”
“Xander,” Buffy started, “I’m marrying Spike because I love him. I know you don’t like it, but that’s how it is. If you were my friend you’d support me in this.”
“How can you not see that this is a spell???” he screamed. “Yesterday, you hated Spike. If I thought you were doing this of your own free will I’d…no…I’d still think you were insane.”
“Look, I know it’s crazy! I mean, we fought for all these years, and then… Sometimes you just look at someone, and you know… You know?”
Xander shook his head in puzzlement, while Spike watched her with a burgeoning sense of awe. That she was standing up for him…well, he couldn’t put into words how much that meant. He was starting to realize that he knew exactly what she was talking about. Damn this spell! Because when it was over, he’d never see this side of Buffy again. And she’d be more likely to be uber-bitch to him now then ever before to over-compensate for this “lapse.”
“I think maybe we fought because we couldn't admit how we really felt about each other.” Buffy concluded with a warm smile at Spike. She was puzzled by the sad and…was that wistful? look on his face.
“Pet,” Spike said, a hint of regret in his voice. “It’s more than likely that this…what you’re feeling so sudden-like, is a result of the witch’s spell.” He needed her to stop saying those things… those nice, sweet, loving things, before he was in so deep he’d never dig his way out.
Her stomach dropped to her feet. How could he say that? She’d thought he’d been coming around. “How can you say that to me?” She demanded. “Can’t you see what I feel every time I look at you…every time I touch you?”
He had no answer for that. Xander on the other hand, wasn’t so reticent.
“Well, at least one of you has the sense to realize this freak show isn’t real.”
Buffy turned on him with a stricken look on her face. Suddenly, she was back in the tunnels with Angel, hearing him call her devotion that derogatory term. She opened and closed her mouth, but couldn’t say anything for the tears that were suddenly choking her throat. Without a word she turned and left the room, waiting until she was out of earshot of everyone before letting the sobs come.
Well…out of earshot of everyone but Spike. And he was livid. “You stupid wanker!” He snarled at Xander. “You just couldn’t let it go, could you? Had to point out the error of her ways because you’re so bloody qualified to tell her how to live her life. Never mind that she’s in the other room bawlin’ her eyes out because you couldn’t keep your insensitive gob closed.”
“Like you care, evil dead,” Xander sneered, “I bet you’re just loving this. Buffy crawling all over you. Hey! How do we know you haven’t been taking advantage of our Buffster while she’s been all magicked?”
Spike snarled, but surprisingly, Giles was the one to speak. “Xander, do shut up. I’ve talked with Spike, and I have been in the room the entire time. He’s been admirable in his restraint.”
“Yeah, like I believe that,” came the sulky reply.
“Spike,” Giles questioned, “do you think you could go calm Buffy down? We have to find Willow and get her to reverse this spell.”
“Oi! Why me?”
“Because, you pillock, you are her “fiancée” and for some reason she’s looked to you for assistance during this whole debacle.” Giles snarked. “Besides,” he continued in a more solemn tone, “you don’t seem to want to hurt her and right now she’s hurting.”
“Of course I don’t want to hurt her,” Spike began, then realized how it sounded. “I want to kill her. Rend…and…and...tear. Grrrr.” His blustering gave out, as he really didn’t want to think about those types of things happening to the tiny Slayer. He couldn’t believe that his feelings had gone through such an abrupt change. Although, according to Dru, it wasn’t abrupt at all. He was so buggered.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Giles sarcasm made it evident that even a blind man could see through his posturing. “Now please go and retrieve Buffy so we can get this resolved.”
Spike huffed but did as requested. He really needed to rethink the whole evil thing, as he seemed to be going soft in his old age. He followed the sound of Buffy’s heartbeat to the bathroom, finding her sitting on the floor with her back against the tub. Silently, he sat down next to her, only starting a little when she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“You don’t think our love is a freak show…do you?” Came the softly spoken question.
Spike sighed. Oh, how to answer this? He resolved to proceed with caution. While he may have been opening the door to his own feelings a teeny crack, he had no doubt in his mind about how the Slayer would react once the spell was ended. He was not going to either end up staked or give her more ammunition to use against him once she was back to her old, not-so-charming self. Likewise, he didn’t want to hurt the feelings of Buffy-the-girl anymore than they already had been. “Kitten,” he began hesitantly, “I don’t think any real, true love is a “freak show.” It’s a beautiful thing.”
“Angel called us a freak show when he broke up with me. I know that sounds pathetic, but we are in a similar situation. I don’t think it’d be odd for you to have a similar reaction.”
“Well, Angel was a complete pillock, wasn’t he?” Spike said flatly, irritation clear in his voice. “And we are two completely different vampires, luv. The only thing we have in common are fangs.” He reached over and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear before continuing. “That was his loss, isn’t it, for tossin’ away what most men dream of. A lovely woman who loves them with all she is.”
“So you believe that I really love you?” She was looking at him now, her eyes glistening from the tears she’d shed. While he knew that he shouldn’t be finding a tear streaked and slightly puffy Slayer face beautiful, he couldn’t help it. All of her was beautiful to him. Spike slammed the William door again, cursing his poetic tendencies.
“I believe that you believe it.”
“So you don’t think it’s real.” Her face crumpled again, and Spike struggled to do damage control.
“Kitten, I want to believe it.” He surprised himself by telling the truth. “But, Red’s spell…”
“Well, that’s an easy fix,” Buffy said, perking up now that she saw a way to make Spike believe. “We’ll get the spell broken and then you’ll see.”
“Okay, luv.” He decided to humor her. He couldn’t stand to see her any more upset, and once this thing was over…well, he would have to worry about HER heart being broken, now would he? He got up, and helped her to her feet. When she gave him a hug, he sighed softly, sadly, and returned it, relishing the feel of her pressed against him, and knowing this would probably be the last time.
When a phone call yielded no results, Buffy, Spike, Xander, and Anya left the apartment in search of Willow. The first stop was the dorms, where they discovered that D’Hoffryn, Anya’s old vengeance boss, had taken Willow. Anya speculated that he was making Willow a job offer. They headed through the cemetery to a crypt that met the specifications Anya needed to summon him and ask for Willow back. They were almost there when a demon leapt out of the foliage at Xander. Buffy fought it off, but another was coming, and she quickly realized more would follow.
Shoving Xander and Anya into the crypt she told them, “Barricade the door. Anya, do that summoning. We’ll hold them off.”
Spike just stared at her, wondering how he was supposed to help, when he couldn’t hit anything. He leaned back against the tomb, and watched as Buffy proceeded to kick demon ass. When a particularly nasty looking demon got the Slayer in a headlock, Spike decided that he wasn’t just going to stand around, and watch the woman who loved him, even if it was a spell, get killed. He’d deal with the headache. Leaping on to the demons back, he landed a swift punch to its head, knocking it unconscious. He braced himself for the pain, but none came.
Buffy was staring at him in amazement. “Your chip?” She questioned. Grinning, he reached out and tugged a lock of her hair.
“Ouch!”
Aaargh!” His pained yell from the chip firing caused Buffy to rush to him, petting and cooing. He was up in a moment, grinning maniacally.
“I can hit demons! I. Can. Hit. Demons. Bloody Hell! YEESSSS!” Was Spike’s jubilant shout.
He turned on the advancing demons with a snarl, game face to the fore. “The Big Bad is back!”
Buffy squealed excitedly. He’d been so depressed about not being able to fight, and hey…now she had a slaying partner. He was really her perfect match.
They fought in tandem, the demon horde having no chance against a Slayer and a
No-longer-repressed Master Vampire. When the last demon had fallen, they paused and looked at each other. Buffy leapt on Spike, ferociously kissing him, wrapping her legs around his waist, relishing the feel of his erection pressed against her.
“That was fantastic,” she gushed between kisses. “Tell me you loved that!”
“I LOVED that!” Spike was in heaven: a magnificent bit o’ violence, followed by warm, horny Slayer rubbing against him in all the right ways. He had a hard time remembering why he needed to pull back, but sadly, reality did indeed bare its ugly head.
“Pet,” he tried to pull back, but Buffy was having none of that.
“Spike, I love you! I need you to know that.” She began pressing little biting kisses down the line of his throat causing him to gasp and buck his hips against her. “Say you love me.” She laved his siring scar with her tongue, enjoying the way his moans reverberated to her core.
“Buffy…pet…” He couldn’t break away, couldn’t think. “I…God…BUFFY!”
Her teeth bit into his throat, tearing the skin, and drawing blood. He pressed her up against the nearby crypt wall, thrusting his hips madly as she pulled on his blood. His moans and cries goaded her on and she bit down harder, pulling away only when he shuddered his completion, her name a whispered prayer on his lips. She smiled at him lovingly and stroked a hand down his awestricken face. Leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, she whispered, “Mine!”
Blue eyes blinked at her in shock, and he couldn’t stop his affirmative response.
“Yours.”
Neither of them was aware of the poof as Willow appeared next to them, or heard her words. “Let the healing power begin. Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken.”
Buffy’s gasp of shock echoed in the now silent graveyard. Swiftly, she disentangled herself from Spike. He was still staring at her, awe and love? writ plainly on his face. She turned horrified eyes to the speechless witch.
“Buffy…” Willow began, but was cut off.
“No.” She backed away from the vampire and the witch, trying to gain control of her conflicting emotions.
“Pet,” Spike tried. He could see the confusion on her face, and the growing panic.
“No,” Buffy said again. “I have to…I have to go.” With an unreadable look at Spike, she turned and ran.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I own nothing but the storyline. Spoilers thru Something Blue. Dialog taken from Something Blue. This was supposed to be in response to Challenge # 274 on the Bloodshedverse.
“In Season 4's episode "Something Blue" Willow's spell works on Buffy but not on Spike write us a fic of Buffy chasing around a terrified Spike demanding he marry her. To the point that she claims him only seconds before the spell ends :P
Must Haves
1. Poor Spike is sooooo not interested :P”
But I don’t think I have Spike being appropriately Buffy-resistant. Oh well. Hope you enjoy
“In Season 4's episode "Something Blue" Willow's spell works on Buffy but not on Spike write us a fic of Buffy chasing around a terrified Spike demanding he marry her. To the point that she claims him only seconds before the spell ends :P
Must Haves
1. Poor Spike is sooooo not interested :P”
But I don’t think I have Spike being appropriately Buffy-resistant. Oh well. Hope you enjoy