Halloween Trick or Freak
By Bloodshedbaby
Will be NC-17, PG-13 to R for this part.
This was written for Sadbhyl, and the requirements were: Spuffy (obviously, since it's a spuffy ficathon) and
Up to two other characters (besides Spike & Buffy) - optional: Ethan, Joyce
1-3 Requirements: S2, heavy UST
1-3 Restrictions: No angst, no slash
So I bring you.... this! :) Takes place during season 2's Halloween episode, and uh... yeah. Many thanks to the beta-age of Spikeskat!! Thank you! You helped my Elizabeth soo much!!
Part 1
"Well! This is just... neat!" Spike exclaimed, looking around at the chaos erupting on the crowded the streets. Deciding his game face wasn't enough of a costume to suit his present mood, he dipped his hand in the pocket of his duster and pulled out the item he had nicked earlier from the costume shop.
Tossing the plastic packaging carelessly to the ground, he pinned the metal star to the front of his leather coat. Satisfied, Spike resumed his casual stroll down the street.
++++++++
Elizabeth looked around in a horrified daze, her urge to swoon nearly overwhelming. She was a gently reared young woman and the situation she had found herself thrust into was too much for her delicate constitution; the whole thing was most improper. Her breath hitched on a sharp gasp, and she once again gave serious thought to swooning. Surely that was a more ladylike action than screaming as she was wont to do at the peculiar scenario playing out before her eyes.
She ran into an alley, certain she had managed to escape that wretched thing from the obscure little cottage she had been led to. Picking up her skirts, she turned to make her way purposefully through the alley, when a filthy man with perfectly dreadful teeth suddenly accosted her. It was a pirate. Elizabeth had heard of such men and knew that not a lot of good came from them. They were scoundrels and pillagers of the worst sort, the whole lot of them.
The man grinned evilly, and slurred, "pretty, pretty, pretty."
The air thickened with an odor so foul, Elizabeth nearly gagged, the stench overwhelming her refined senses. Too late, she realized the man was advancing on her, in complete disregard of propriety. A tendril of fear shot through her, as she took note of his improper advancement on her person, his eyes filled with something she couldn't even begin to put a name to.
When he reached out for her, the situation took on a more sinister note, and Elizabeth shrunk back with terror. Spinning, she picked up her skirts in an attempt to flee, when his dirty, beefy hand suddenly clamped around her pristine wrist. She was forcefully wrenched around, and the crude man thrust his face into hers, his cracked lips searching for hers.
Elizabeth felt her first real stirrings of panic, hurtling beyond anything ever felt before. She was about to violated, and while the intimate details of such an act remained elusive, she knew enough to fear it happening this way. She could smell the overwhelming stench of his breath, the feel of his rough cracked lips, as they ground painfully against her own delicate ones, and felt a small piece of her slipping away, much as if the horrid events were happening to someone else.
Suddenly, a sharp click broke through his grunting symphony, and Elizabeth felt the hands that had begun to roughly seek her fleshy wealth beneath the voluminous fabric of her dress, cease their unwanted caress.
"It 'pears to me like you need to pull in them horns there, pardner," a low, rough voice drawled with deliberate assuredness. To Elizabeth, the western drawled voice was that of an angel. "So, why don't you just back on off and leave the li'l lady be."
The hands that had been holding her hostage, quickly fell away. Elizabeth wasted no time in putting distance between this brute and herself, looking down with immediate dismay at the disheveled fate her gown had suffered.
Quickly forgetting that she had almost been compromised, Elizabeth jerked her head up to give her beastly tormenter a small piece of her mind, when she was suddenly ensnared in web of shock. Her eyes met those of her rescuer, and sunk into the bluest eyes she'd ever laid claim to. She felt a swoon come on, for certain this time.
With a studied casualness, she watched as the newcomer brought the barrel of his gun to touch the brim of his hat, tipping it back off his face, while giving her a slow, lazy, nod. His eyes seemed to sparkle with shimmering appreciation as he regarded her. She found her own lips curling into a small smile, wishing suddenly for the fan she usually carried at all times.
Sensing their distraction, the man who had assaulted her decided to try his luck at escape, turning quickly to dart away.
Before he could take more than two steps, the newcomer had the previously re-holstered pistol out and Elizabeth watched as it danced in his hands, before the fine ivory handle finally struck a blow at the base of the fleeing man's head. Elizabeth watched, mesmerized, as the evil man crumpled to the ground, rendered completely unconscious.
It had happened so fast, Elizabeth was sure she was standing there, mouth agape, simply staring. Ladies do not stare, echoed through her head, and she brought herself to quick attention to find her savior smiling with surprising familiarity in her direction.
"Kind sir, I would like to thank you for your... assistance," She began primly, her hands itching for the familiar curve of her fan and parasol. Elizabeth found her eyes darting around nervously, once more taking in the unfamiliar buildings and surroundings.
"Much obliged, ma'am, glad to be of assistance," the man drawled, tipping his hat once more in a mocking gesture of gentlemanly courtesy. He also cast a slow leisurely glance around, a frown settling over the full lips that had, just moments before, been full of amusement. "Wouldn't happen to know where in tarnations we was, would ya?"
Elizabeth's face briefly showed her surprise, before she quickly schooled her features into an expected mask of forbearance, one that she detested. "No, sir, I fear I am not in possession of such knowledge."
He cocked his head to stare at her, wondering the reason for the tempered emotions. "So, what's your name, pretty little filly?"
Her eyes reflected her confusion before she finally figured out his strange manner of speech. "Are you requesting an introduction?"
A laugh escaped, rich and throaty, an entirely too pleasing sound for her peace of mind. Elizabeth could feel her cheeks heat and knew her face was painted a bright scarlet under his close scrutiny. "Well, bust my gravy. Yeah, I think I am requesting an introoo-duction," came the drawn out reply.
Elizabeth drew herself up, splotches of anger adding themselves to the shade of mortification that colored her cheeks. "You, sir, have deplorable manners. But since you have dispatched the only person I have ever met with even more deplorable manners than yourself, I will overlook your rudeness. My name is Elizabeth Anne Montgomery," she revealed in her most haughty tone, the one she had long before perfected to drive unwanted suitors away.
This time, the hat came off and was clutched to his chest, as the man bowed slightly in front of her, the mocking grin still in place. "A pleasure, ma'am. The name's Willie. Wallopin' Willie, to some. Sheriff of this here town." The infuriating man slapped his hat back on his head while looking around, a confused look replacing his smug, superior one. "Well, not this one, I don't reckon. Where did you say we wuz again?"
"I didn't," Elizabeth retorted, trying to crush down the temper that always served to be her downfall. Meek and obedient she was not, much to her family's chagrin. "I..." Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the sound of a name being called from beyond the alley. "BUFFY!!"
Suddenly fear slammed back into her, and she found herself clutching Willie's arm, his well-worn western duster soft and pliant beneath her tight grip. Just as the arm that lay beneath was hard and muscular. "Oh, sir, you must help me." She gestured to the entrance of the alley. "Please," she sobbed, mortified that she was so overcome by fright. "You have no idea the extent of their madness. I fear for my very life!"
Willie drew himself up, enjoying the feel of this damsel's warmness pressed against him. Keeping the peace was his job, and one that he took very seriously. He may not know where he was, but danged if he was going to go all slack happy now, and abandon his post.
With a encouraging nod, he tipped the brim of his hat at her once more, and then was striding down the alley, his steps sure and deliberate.
Angel heard it first, the slow clank of metal sounding from the alley ahead of them. It sounded like... spurs? Then he hit upon a scent. Buffy, and he allowed himself to relax a fraction. Another scent drifted into his awareness, and his forehead furrowed in confusion. It was familiar, yet not. Much like Buffy's scent had been altered.
A lone figure stepped out of the shadowed alley into the full glare of the street lights. "Howdy, folks."
Cordelia exchanged looks with Angel, as recognition dawned on them both. "Oh great. Now we've got Frontier Man," Cordelia announced derisively, crossing her arms across her chest.
Angel's worry peaked when he recognized Spike, smelling Buffy's presence close by. This did not bode well, and was, quite frankly, his worst fear. As she was now, Buffy was completely at the mercy of whichever vampire was lucky enough to cross her path, and Spike figured heavily into his concern.
Suddenly, Xander burst forward, his Uzi held threateningly in his capable hands. "Halt! Who goes there? Identify yourself."
In the blink of an eye, a pair of ivory handled pistols appeared in Spike's hands, pointed in Xander's direction. Both men attempted to stare the other down, eyes unblinking. "Think you'd be wise to holster that pistol of yours, pardner. Don't think you want me running your worthless hide in, now do ya?" Willie asked menacingly.
"Request denied," Xander barked, stepping forward.
Angel grabbed at his arm, earning a hostile glare. "He's a vampire," Angel warned. "Your bullets won't do much good. I'll take care of this." Soldier Xander gave a curt nod, and backed up a step, keeping his back rigid and prepared.
"Spike, what did you do with Buffy?" Angel asked, attempting to use his familial bond to control the vampire, finding himself unable to establish a link.
"Well now, not sure who this Buffy person is, or this Spike," came the reply, the twin pistols now trained on the dark-haired vamp.
"Duh! You're Spike," Cordelia answered. "What is wrong with you people? Did everybody eat like a dipshit sandwich for breakfast?"
"The name's Willie. Wallopin' Willie Lyndon. I'm the long arm of the law around these parts." Steely eyes bored into the group in front of him, all forced to bear witness that Spike was not in the drivers seat here. If the western accent hadn't clued them in, the authentic dusty boots, dark jeans, and shirt would have given it away. His typical leather duster had been replaced by a western coat, and a black Stetson was perched rakishly on his head, effectively covering the platinum hair. Angel knew that Spike wouldn't be caught dead in this outfit, briefly wondering why he'd received the full getup when the other's had just obtained pieces of the costumes they had borne.
"Sp- I mean, Willie. Where's... Elizabeth?" Angel asked.
Willie's eyes narrowed with suspicion, gauging this man in front of him. "The little lady is under my protection now," he stated in a tone that offered no rebuke.
Angel sighed heavily, tipping his face to the stars. 'Why me?' he thought briefly.
"And unless you want a little lead in your hide, I suggest y'all just skedaddle," Willie continued.
Elizabeth heard Willie's words, and a strange sensation rushed through her at the timbre of his voice. Feeling her confidence returning to her, she decided to face her fear, rather than run off like she had earlier. She cringed at the pathetic weak creature she had presented before, letting the docile weak female take over, while she had fought against that stereotype for years.
Now determined, she stepped out of the alley, keeping her chin up in defiance. She made sure to halt right behind her savior, rather than at his side. She wasn't that rebellious.
Angel caught the spark of fire now present in Buffy's eyes, desperate to learn if the love of his life had returned to him. "Buffy?" He asked cautiously.
Tossing her hair back, Elizabeth bit out primly, "As I have informed you on several occasions, vampire, my name is Elizabeth."
Willie sent a curious look over his shoulder. "Vampire?"
"I... uh... think that is what he is. I believe he is quite dangerous, and we would all be wise to be on our guard," Buffy replied with less certainty.
Willie nodded thoughtfully, bringing up one six shooter to a more lethal position.
"God, why do I ever get mixed up with you people?" Cordelia ranted. "Did you, like, sprinkle stupidity on your cornflakes or something? You're a vampire too, you gun-toting idiot."
"Well, if that don't beat all," Willie replied with a wide amused grin. "Me, a vampire." He looked behind at Elizabeth. "You sure as shootin' wasn't lying about the madness. This gang is hang dog crazy."
A small chord of recognition struck Elizabeth suddenly, only to be gone the next second, while she continued to watch the confrontation. She nodded in agreement, shooting them a haughty glare. "Yes, quite. I fear they must have escaped from an institution."
"We're crazy?" Cordelia asked, aghast. When she opened her mouth to continue her tirade, Angel cut her off with the wave of a hand.
"We've got to get her away from him," Angel announced quietly.
"Duh!"
Willow chose that moment to walk through the building they were standing in front, a sly grin on her face. "This is so cool!!" she exclaimed excitedly, trying to decide who she could go scare next.
"Jumpin' josephat!" Willie exclaimed, training his sharp six-shooter on the scantily clad newcomer.
Elizabeth stood up on tips of her toes and whispered in his ear, "It's one of them. I believe I informed you something was amiss."
Willow did a double take when she saw who Elizabeth was huddled behind. "Spike??!!"
A familiar cocky grin flashed. "Aww shucks, don't know about that..." Suddenly remembering ladies were present, Willie wisely didn't finish that statement.
Willow looked over the others, confusion filling her face.
"Do I have permission to terminate the enemy?" Soldier Xander barked suddenly, causing more than one jolt of surprise.
"No! There will be no terminating... of any kind!" Willow exclaimed.
"You have no authority to give orders, ma'am."
Willow rounded on Soldier Xander, prepared to once again bring him over to her way of thinking, with Angel and Cordelia adding their comments. They didn't realize that the intended targets had slipped away into the night, and Cordelia had no hesitation in letting Angel know exactly what she thought of his skills as a stalker.
Unfortunately for them, Willie's skills at hiding their trail were flawless, even in these modern times he found himself in. There was a niggling at the back of his skull, something that found all of this familiar, but he worked desperately to push it away.
Willie even found Elizabeth familiar at times. Especially when she would flash her green eyes at him, and give him a few lashes of her tongue. 'Wouldn't mind her tongue lashing somethin' else," rose unbidden to his forethoughts, causing him to harden painfully in his jeans. He was forced to throw his pelvis forward to relieve a bit of the pressure, as they walked down a strangely paved road.
"Do you always walk in such an obscene manner?" Elizabeth asked disdainfully, noticing the exaggerated swagger of the man next to her. Much to her dismay, she found her gaze drawn to the muscles that were being prominently displayed beneath the western duster. Mortification overtook her as she realized that she liked what she saw.
The infuriating man refused to give her the common courtesy of an answer. Rather began to grin like a mad man, causing Elizabeth to blush a stunning crimson.
Willie could hear her heart rate escalate, and could only guess the reason for it. Then a thought struck him. How in tarnation could he hear her heart beating?
Before he could give that thought any more consideration, a scream sounded through the air, bringing him to full attention.
"Oh good heavens! I do believe someone is in need of assistance!" Elizabeth cried, her eyes searching the deserted street. "Oh, I do hope there is a constable around."
"There is," Willie announced, striding purposefully in the direction the scream had come from.
"Sir, I beg your delay on this matter." She picked up her skirts and gave chase. "I am in need of your protection!"
He turned so suddenly, that Elizabeth was unable to keep herself from running into his chest. A firm chest, she realized fleetingly, as her hands splayed out against it. They regarded each other intently, eyes burning into the other, both feeling something trying to crawl its way out of their memories.
"I... I... I don't think I like you," Elizabeth breathed, unable to tear her gaze away, focused keenly on his full lips.
Strong hands gripped her waist. "And I sure as shootin' don't think I like you either," Willie growled. "But... I know I want to do this." Without hesitation, he dipped his head down and captured her lips in a searing kiss, one that was so unlike her first and only kiss just moments before.
Heat sizzled through Elizabeth, forbidden heat in forbidden places, as she found her arms snaking up and wrapping themselves around Willie's neck, almost of their own accord. She felt his arms slip around her waist, and she was drawn impossibly close. Even through the yards of fabric, she could feel the hardness of his body.
This was wrong. She shouldn't be doing this, she knew it, but the sensations snaking their way through her body made it impossible to stop. Elizabeth wanted more. For once, she understood the urges of women that had only been whispered about behind her back. Understood it, and wanted it. She didn't know why it was him, this... westerner, but he made her burn in a way she never thought possible.
A small moan escaped her mouth, and she felt his beautiful lips leave hers to trail a cool path along her jaw down to her neck. New sensations hit her, the least of which the coolness of his skin, and her head tipped back to give those lips more skin to work with. All sense of propriety had left her, and she found herself not bothered by it, in the least.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp prick replace the loving sensation of Willie's lips, and she stiffened in his embrace. She heard a moan of ecstasy released, and his hips ground against her with a heightened frenzy. Suddenly, she felt a pulling sensation where his mouth was attached to her neck, and she gasped, almost frightened by the sudden surge of desire that flooded her.
Abruptly, she pushed Willie away in blind panic, gasping in shock at what greeted her when he fell to the ground. Confused yellow eyes peered up at her, blood dripping from teeth that were much too long to be normal. Willie was like the other one. Angel. Elizabeth slapped her hand to the gaping wounds on her neck, her breath coming in faster, as panic began to ensue.
"Well, if that just don't beat all," Willie announced in a perplexed tone. He jumped up to his feet, using his index finger to clean the remaining blood dribbling down his chin, before sucking it off his finger. "You're kinda tasty," he added as an afterthought.
Elizabeth shrunk back in terror, shuddering when the yellow eyes changed back to the blue she had been so mesmerized with all evening. "You, sir, are a... a...
His baffled expression turned concerned when he saw Elizabeth's pending flight. "Hey now, little filly. Ain't gonna hurt a hair on that purty little head of yours. Just took me by surprise, is all."
He looked so sincere, that Elizabeth halted her escape and let him walk up to her. With everything that had happened this evening, her gut instinct seemed to be homing in on this particular man, and she wanted to trust that it knew what it was talking about.
"I will thank you to keep your teeth to yourself in the future, Sheriff," Elizabeth ordered boldly, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes. She could practically feel the imprints of his hands on her, and suddenly had very improper thoughts.
A pleased smile slid across the angular handsome face. "Does that mean I gets me another kiss?"
Again, Elizabeth's pulse rate jumped at his question, and she didn't dare think, just gave in to what her emotions were telling her. Because if she thought about it, she would be pulled back into the utter impropriety of the situation. Leaning towards him in anticipation, she offered him her lips...
Her eyes had just fluttered shut when there was a visible shift in the air. With a strangled gasp, all traces of Elizabeth were flung into the past, and Buffy was brought forward, finding a pair of hard lips pressed against her own. Her spider sense was tingling with a raging fury, and she jumped back in shock.
Her eyes met those of her mortal enemy, who appeared every bit as confused as she herself was. "S-spike?"
"Slayer?" he ground out, taking a cursory look around at his surroundings. "What in the bloody fuck just happened here?"
TBC... HALLOWEEN TRICK OR FREAK
BY BLOODSHEDBABY
NOT YET SURE ABOUT THE RATING, HAVEN'T GOTTEN THERE YET! EITHER R OR NC-17
This was written for Sadbhyl, and the requirements were: Spuffy (obviously, since it's a spuffy ficathon) and
Up to two other characters (besides Spike & Buffy) - optional: Ethan, Joyce
1-3 Requirements: S2, heavy UST
1-3 Restrictions: No angst, no slash
PART 2
Her eyes met those of her mortal enemy, who appeared every bit as confused as she herself was. "S-spike?"
"Slayer?" he ground out, taking a cursory look around at his surroundings. "What in the bloody fuck just happened here?"
Buffy shook her head slowly, as the disturbing recollection of the previous events began slowly filtering through her brain. She looked down at her gown, then reached one hand up and ripped the wig off her head in disgust, letting her blonde locks free to tumble over her shoulders.
"Hey," Spike protested, "that wasn't a bloody wig earlier."
"Wow, aren't you the total keen observer." Dealing with some major wiggins, Buffy looked around once more, trying to piece together exactly what had occurred. She noticed the shiny tin star on the breast pocket of Spike's leather duster, and couldn't help the snort that escaped as certain images struck her. Her traitorous eyes, however, had something else they wanted to check out, and her gaze was involuntarily drawn to the crotch of his tight black jeans. The large bulge still remained, and she found herself riveted. 'Oh god, she had felt that against her. That was there because of her!' she thought with increasing panic. She was seriously freaked now.
Feeling a bit spooked himself, Spike followed her gaze, and found his erection becoming even more strained under her unwavering stare. Without thought, he took a step in her direction, intent on feeling her against him once more.
Buffy snapped out of her daze, her eyes flying to his face as her slayer sense kicked in. But it wasn't the evil intent that she expected to see in his eyes, it was a convoluted desire. Unbidden, her pulse skyrocketed, and she couldn't admit it being from fear.
Mortified, Buffy managed to throw him an icy look, and fled into the night. The fact that her mortal enemy did not give chase was was not surprising. and she refused to consider the significance.
Later that night as she lay curled in her bed, finally alone after dodging a million questions, confusion ran rampant in her brain. Because she could now remember everything. Stupid Ethan Rayne and his idiotic spells. She was so going to kick his ass the next time she saw him.
++++++++++++
Buffy knew it should bother her watching Angel talk to this beautiful woman on the playground below. It was so obvious they knew each other, the body language, the intensity of the words were all enough to clue her into that. But... she felt nothing. What was up with that?
While she stood there berating herself for why she felt nothing, her Slayer sense homed in on something behind her. Crap. So not what she needed. She didn't even bother turning around, just waited until he joined her.
"Who is she?"
"Drusilla," Spike replied flatly.
Buffy turned her head to look at him, a questioning look in her eyes.
"She's been my girl for over a century. But as soon as her precious little Angelus shows up, she forgets I bloody exist."
Buffy nodded, then returned her attention to the couple below them.
"Look, Slayer, about the other night..."
Buffy whipped her head up. "So not talking about that." No way was she opening herself up to that one. There had been entirely too much thinkage on that topic as it was.
"Fine." Buffy watched him storm away, biting back the feeling of regret at seeing him leave. Sighing heavily, she turned around and went to patrol, unaware she had a majorally pissed off vamp on her tail.
++++++++++
"Ford, help me stop this... Please!" Buffy pleaded, her anxiety level rising through the roof. Stupid Ford. Who named their kid after a car, anyway?
Ford refused to listen to her, and Buffy ran over to the stairs again, Ford at her heels. "People, listen to me! This is not the mothership, people! This is ugly death come to play!" She called out.
Much to her dire shock, her words fell on deaf ears. 'Ok, maybe not so much with the ugly' she thought traitorously. Her inattention proved to be damaging; Ford managed to sneak up behind her and knocked her ass over backwards down the stairs. Ouch. Ok, he was at the top of her shit list for that one. Ford managed to land one more lucky blow while she was attempting to get up, and down she went again. Oh yeah, he was in for a world of hurt.
Through her pain and anger with a hefty side of embarrassment thrown in, she heard the outside door open, and groaned to herself. This was so not her night. Buffy decided to fight as lame as Ford had, and played possum. She allowed her hair to fan across her half hidden face, and watched as the inner doors opened. Ford totally fell for it, gloating proudly that he had rendered the Slayer unconscious. Riiiiight... as if.
And then, there he was, in all his vampiric glory. Great. Why did he have to look so good? Wasn't there some cosmic rule that said all vampires had to be butt ugly, and could NEVER ooze sex appeal? Well, all soulless vampires, anyway.
Spike was determined to do the Slayer in, once and for all. She had been haunting his thoughts entirely too often for his liking, and they weren't entirely evil musings of hatred, either. Drusilla had noticed his distraction, and had guessed the reasons for it. Either guessed, or sucked it out of his brain, he could never tell when it came to his Dark Princess. This was his one chance to prove that he felt nothing for the bitch, that he could drain her drier than the bleedin' Sahara.
The disbelieving look had Dru had given him had set him right off, and her refusal to join him on his victorious slaying of his third Slayer, bloody well chapped him. So he had gone along with the annoying human git's proposal; the Slayer practically hand delivered for him to do in, and the sod's payment would be immortality.
But, when he stalked in and the first thing that drew his attention was the crumpled body of HER at the bottom of the stairs, with the gloating retard hovering proudly over her, Spike just saw red.
With a vicious roar, he bounded down the steps, knocking the boy aside while he knelt at the Slayer's side. Reaching his hand out, he gently brushed her hair away from her face. He smiled with wry amusement when he took note of her tightly creased eyelids, and her body tense with anticipation. So... the bint was playing hard to get. Unable to help himself, Spike bent down to blow a cool stream of air directly into her ear.
It had the desired effect. Buffy jumped up, eyes wide, and she scooted backwards away from the crouched vampire. The vampire who was sitting there looking at her with a smug, amused, shit eating grin on his face. Asshole. The vampire who was looking way too good, with his hair not quite as slicked back as it usually was. It was kinda... tousled. Oh god, was that cute? Did he have cute hair?
"Well... If it isn't the fair maiden, all distressed, like."
"Well... If it isn't Wallopin Willie, long arm of the law," Buffy mocked snidely, trying not to notice the devilish glint of his eyes. His nice pretty blue eyes that she seemed to lose herself in every damn time she looked in them. Like now, for instance.
"I'm touched. You remember." Spike stood up suddenly, closing the distance between them.
Buffy scrambled to her feet, trying to ignore the waves of dizziness that accompanied that motion. Ok, this wasn't good. She tried not to feel a tad hurt by the fact that Spike had set her up, then smacked herself mentally for feeling betrayed. Spike was a cold blooded killer, no matter how nice his lips had felt on hers. "Kinda hard to forget something like that," she shot back finally.
Spike's face softened. "Yeah." His attention was drawn to the laceration on her temple. Reaching his hand out, he gently wiped a finger across the rivulets of blood streaming down her face, bringing it into his mouth. "You still taste good though."
Before Buffy could protest, Ford walked up with his self-appreciation on proud display. "Sooo... when do I get my reward? I got her here for you."
Wow, some friend he was turning out to be, Buffy thought bitterly, dizziness beginning to assault her with even more ferocity. Oh god, this was so not good. She could see the darkness try to take over at the corners of her vision. 'No!' she cried to herself. 'Don't let me do that swooning thing!'
Disgust filled Spike's face, and he turned to strike the boy down, when he noticed the Slayer beginning to sway on her feet, her face completely devoid of color. With a frustrated growl, he caught her just as her eyes rolled back, and oblivion claimed her. Fuck. This wasn't part of the bleedin plan, standing there holding the bloody unconscious Slayer, with absolutely no motivation to kill her.
Turning around swiftly, he lashed out with his foot in frustration, sending a chair flying across the room, where it slammed into the wall and splintered. The obnoxious boy looked at him with confusion. "You said you would turn me, if I gave you the Slayer," Ford reminded him, without a hint of fear. There was too much riding on this for fear to enter the picture, he NEEDED to become one of the Immortal Ones.
"I said when I do her in," Spike growled, rudely brushing past the annoying git as he headed for the stairs.
"Well? When is that going to be? Hello! You've got her right there!" Ford called after him, his friends watching in eager anticipation of joining the ranks of the Lonely Ones.
"Fuck if I know," Spike muttered bitterly, taking the stairs two at a time, slamming the door shut behind him. He stood there in the alley, a battle being raged bitterly in his head. He glanced down at the unconscious form of the soddin' Slayer, vulnerable and absolutely defenseless in his arms, and death was the absolutely last thing he felt like inflicting right now. His eyes flickered over her petite form, the slight swell of her breasts as her chest rose and fell in time with her breathing, and he tried desperately to fight the waves of affection that rose within him.
With a angry snarl, he strode off down the alley, not wanting to admit to being concerned by her prolonged unconsciousness. This was fucked; he knew it, but couldn't quite find it within himself to care very much.
Just as he rounded the corner of the alley, he saw the Slayer's band of merry men coming his way, their expressions anxious and terse. The Poof was leading the way, his brow furrowed and dark. Their anxiety turned to fear when they saw Spike with Buffy in his evil clutches, her body flailed limply in his arms.
"Spike," Angel ground out, a warning growl rumbling from his chest.
"Oh, sod off, Peaches." Making a decision, Spike stalked over to where his Grande-Sire stood, and threw Buffy into his arms. "She got knocked on the head a bit." With that, Spike stormed off, head down, with his black duster billowing behind him.
"Is she ok?" Willow asked anxiously, checking Buffy's neck frantically, only finding evidence of Spike's previous mark upon her neck.
Angel stared after Spike for a moment, then looked down at the girl in his arms. "Yeah, I can hear her heart beating. She's fine. I think she really was just knocked out."
Xander and Willow exchanged glances. "So... what's with the Bleached Menace doing the Buffy save-age thing?" Xander asked. "I thought we were here to save her from his evil claws."
Angel sighed heavily, not liking the direction of his thoughts. He just shrugged with feigned ignorance, and resigned himself to taking Buffy to her Watcher.
An hour later, Buffy lay sleeping in her bed with her mom none the wiser, and Angel asked Giles to join him for a drink while he confronted him with his concerns.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Giles asked, "So, you're saying that Spike... just THREW Buffy at you?"
Angel tossed himself down heavily on his couch, and nodded wearily. "Yes, that's what I'm saying."
"And she was unconscious and bleeding in his arms?"
Angel nodded grimly.
"Good lord. Quite frankly, I don't know what to make of this. Do you have any ideas?"
A black look flashed across the vampire's face. "Yeah, but I'm not sure that I like them."
Giles looked startled. "You're... not suggesting that Spike has... feelings for Buffy, are you?"
There was another grim nod, as both men picked up their drinks in unison, and downed them in one quick gulp, before turning to refill their tumblers. It was going to be one of those nights.
++++++++++
Halloween Trick or Freak
part 3
Thanks to Spike'sKat for the fabulous beta job! also thanks to Beanmommy, Maidenro, Peta, Jerzeyangel, and anyone else I forgot!! Babysquid and BlueIrish, this chapter is for you. Well parts of it, anyway!! :p
Joyce quickly locked the door to the gallery, peering around anxiously. She usually tried to be home before nightfall, not entirely oblivious to some of the strange happenings that seemed to occur in Sunnydale. She just remained ignorant to the heroic part her daughter played in all of it.
Walking quickly, she reached her Jeep in the vacant parking lot, allowing herself to relax a fraction as she pushed the key into the lock. With traffic now waning due to the lateness of the hour, she figured she would be home in ten minutes. 'Buffy had better have her homework finished,' she thought fleetingly, just as she opened the driver's side door and prepared to slide in.
Joyce jumped in alarm, then downright panic, when the door was suddenly wrenched from her grasp, and slammed shut. Whirling around, she was faced with a trio of men. 'Not men,' she decided. These were some of the monsters that had been whispered about, and her life flashed before her eyes as she realized by their sinister grins that they weren't here merely to hitchhike.
"Well, look fellas. We have the Slayer's mom here," one of them announced proudly, bringing a round of chortles and cat calls. "What should we do with her?"
"Let's eat her, and leave her on the Slayer's doorstep to trip over," came the brilliant suggestion.
"Yeah. I kinda like that idea." They began to close in on Joyce, and she got an up close and personal look at the sharp teeth and protruding foreheads they seemed to all sport. 'Early Cro-Magnon man, perhaps?' she thought in a brief moment of blinding hysteria.
Just as Joyce could feel their tepid breath on her neck, her eyes scrunched tightly shut in fear while she berated herself for lacking the will to fight for her life, they were suddenly... gone.
Joyce's eyes flew open to find a sprinkling of dust settle to the ground where the evil men used to stand. In a state far beyond mere confusion, she looked blankly at the blonde man holding a sharp, pointed object in his hand.
"Did you just... do something?" Joyce asked haltingly.
He nodded his head in disgust. "Yeah, I did." Spike turned to storm off, when he noticed the rest of the band of idiots beginning to gather. They were all young, but they had figured out how to gang together, making them more formidable than Spike felt like dealing with right now.
Shaking his head wryly at what he was about to do, Spike turned around and grabbed the set of keys that were sticking out of car door. "Get in," he ordered, opening the driver's side door and slid in behind the wheel.
Joyce stood looking at him, her feet seemed glued to the pavement, and Spike roared his impatience. "Look, I think you'll be wanting to be gettin' in right about now. Or you can always take your own chances against that lot." He gestured behind her towards the rapidly advancing group of vampires.
Joyce spun around, her eyes widening comically at the approaching gang of... whatever they were. Without a second thought, she hurried around to the passenger door. With a quick flick of her wrist, she had the door open and launched herself inside the vehicle. She had barely gotten the door shut and her seatbelt buckled before the blonde stranger had the SUV in reverse, and gunned the gas pedal, sending them roaring out of the parking lot.
A terse silence filled the car during the short drive, Joyce being too frazzled to attempt any conversation. And quite frankly, she was a bit frightened by her rescuer. He had been alternating between scowling and smacking the steering wheel practically the entire way, and he didn't look like he'd win the award for Sunnydale's most stellar citizen. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the man had some serious issues.
Just as they were pulling into her driveway, Joyce finally came to her senses. "How did you know where I lived?" she demanded, in what she hoped was a threatening tone.
"Listen, if I'd wanted to do ya in, I bloody well would have already," the man bit back in his exaggerated British accent, exiting the Jeep, and tossing her the keys.
Joyce warily kept her eye on him as they walked up the stairs leading to the front door, still feeling the need for her obviously reluctant bodyguard. She slipped her house key into the lock, and opened the door. She looked quizzically over her shoulder at the good-looking stranger, and found him standing just outside her door.
"Gonna invite me in?" His voice seemed to hold a challenging note that Joyce immediately responded to.
"Fine, come in."
A smirk spread across his face, and he casually strolled across the threshold. Spike had taken his chances and dared her like he would've her daughter. Apparently, they were both cut from the same cloth.
"Mom?" a voice called, as footsteps pounded down the hallway upstairs.
Spike waited with anticipation as the Slayer flew down the stairs in her usual youthful exuberance, his smirk broadening into a full fledged grin.
A quick intake of breath alerted him that his presence had been duly noted, as she glared at him from the middle of the stairs. "Well, well. If it isn't my favorite damsel, in the very flesh," Spike drawled, eyeing her revealing top and tight jeans appreciatively.
"And wow, look at that. It's wee Willie."
"That's Wallopin' Willie to you, Slayer," Spike practically snarled, his temper immediately piqued as only she could manage to do.
"Oh... I'll wallop your willie, Spike," Buffy shot back, taking the rest of the stairs menacingly, her hand reaching for the stake she always kept in her back pocket. She stopped right in front of him, her chin tipped up defiantly, completely ignoring her mother's stunned presence.
To her surprise, Spike began laughing. Deep, rich chuckles that sent delicious little shivers running through her again.
"You'll do what to my willie, slayer?" Spike asked, his voice colored with amusement, and a hint of something else.
Buffy, who had hardly ever blushed in her life, found herself with cheeks the color of crimson. Again. Luckily, Buffy's mother butted in about that time, so Buffy was saved from being forced to give a witty retort, which she found herself so totally incapable of at that moment.
"Buffy? You know this man?"
The two blonde's heads turned in unison to regard Joyce. "Yes," Buffy remarked churlishly. "Unfortunately."
"Hey, better be nice now. I just saved your mum."
It finally dawned on Buffy that Spike was in her house. And her mom had invited him in. Rounding on her mom, she lectured, "Mom, you can't just go inviting strangers into the house! We live in Sunnydale!!!"
"And that makes a difference... why?" Joyce asked, her confusion turning into outright suspicion with the odd behavior her daughter was displaying.
"Because... because... it just does, ok!!" Buffy exclaimed heatedly, placing her fisted hands on her hips. "So, what happened? Are you ok?" For some reason, she knew that her mom hadn't been in danger in Spike's presence. Just like she knew that if she even dared to repeat that to her friends or her Watcher, they'd probably lock her up and throw away the key. It was just... a thing. Just like she kinda knew Spike felt the same way, which is why he felt so totally unthreatened in her presence now.
Her mom drew herself up, finally calling on her internal strength to get a part of her frazzled emotions under control. "Yes, Buffy, I am fine. Now." She cast a look towards Spike, who she found regarding her daughter. "Your... friend here rescued me, I think." Spike finally turned his intense, blue eyes in her direction, and Joyce asked, "What were those things?"
"Uh..." Spike began, looking at Buffy with an amused look on his face. Fancy that. The Slayer's mum didn't know she was the Chosen Bird. That was... well, amusing.
"Oh! I know this!! I thought maybe they were Cro-Magnon, but now I see just how off I was!!" Joyce said excitedly, reverting back into her frazzled state. Buffy looked at her mom cautiously, finding her entirely too exuberant for the present circumstances. A dazed gleam seemed to shine in Joyce's eyes, as she continued her train of thought. "Yes! They weren't Cro-Magnon at all! Not with those foreheads. No, I think they were more of the... Neanderthal era."
Spike and Buffy watched as Joyce began to pace the room with a distracted air, mumbling to herself. "Your mum is off her nut," Spike commented.
Buffy glared at him. "It's your stupid fault."
"Oooh, stop with the harsh words, luv."
"Shut up."
Joyce's ramblings began to get louder, as she tried to puzzle things out in her head. "But... why did they turn to dust then?" She brought her index finger to her lip as they pursed with intense concentration. Then she gasped suddenly, and turned to them excitedly. "I've got it! It's like that movie... what was it called... with the guy frozen in the ice?"
"Encino Man?" Buffy supplied helpfully.
"No, no! Not that one. Oh! I have it! Iceman. It was Iceman, wasn't it? Where they find that guy who had been frozen in the ice for what, thousands of years? And brought him back to life? With Timothy Hutton?" Joyce hadn't been really asking a question, and she began to pace around again, comparing the vampire attack with the movie Iceman. Her manner was almost schizophrenic, and Buffy began to regard her with concern. She was calm, then wiggy; calm, then wiggy. It was unnerving.
Suddenly, Spike shifted into game face when Joyce's back was turned, and began walking hunched over, his arms dragging at his sides in his best caveman impersonation. "Pita..." he said in a raspy voice, then eyed her frantically through yellow eyes, his head tossed back crazily. "PITA!!!"
Buffy eyed him incredulously, before remembering the only line that the resurrected caveman had delivered in the whole movie her mom was rambling on about. She couldn't help the giggle that slipped past her lips. Suddenly, the whole situation struck her as hilarious, and she slapped her hand over her mouth as a whoop of laughter erupted.
Joyce whipped around just in time to see Spike's features smooth out once more. Her startled gasp served to end Buffy's hysteria, and she sobered quickly.
"Buffy, just what is going on. And don't tell me nothing, because I'm not going to buy that anymore." Joyce watched as Buffy exchanged looks with Spike, then turned back to her.
"Fine. But just don't freak because I didn't tell you before, ok?"
Her mom crossed her arms over her chest, and gave her a look that Buffy knew very well. Joyce pointed to the couch, and Buffy moved to follow her mom's unvoiced order.
TBC...
Ok, hopefully only one or two more chapters. I'll get to them tomorrow!
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