Spike gently laid Buffy down on the sole bed in the crashed farmhouse. His curiosity got the best of him before his lust did, and he plopped down next to her.
“So, how’d we get here, pet?”
“Well, the last thing I remember was being in my hotel room looking at myself in the mirror in this costume that Willow conjured up for me,” she said, pointing to her gingham dress. “I thought it’d be funny if I clicked my heels together like Dorothy did, and I kind of hoped that my wish would come true, but I didn’t think it would. When I opened my eyes, I was here.”
“Do you think Red might’ve messed up with the costume, pet?”
“You don’t like how it looks?”
“Not what I meant, love, you look ravishingly virginal. Do you think she might’ve made it a bit too accurate, with the wishing thing about the shoes?”
“I don’t know…the movie was on, and I wished I could be Dorothy for that party they were dragging me to,” shock flashed across her face, “oh no, and she zapped it on me from the TV!”
“That’s what I thought, pet.”
“It would make sense, I guess. So…where were you?”
“Bout to get singed and eaten by a dragon.”
Her eyes widened into saucer-plates and he chuckled.
“Long story, pet. I’ll tell you later. We need to get back to the matter at hand. What did you wish for anyway?”
“Well, I was really missing you tonight…wanting you to be there with me…and I wished that I could find you again…though I’m not quite sure why that would send us here though.”
“Better than sending you in front of that damned dragon with me.”
“I guess.”
Spike smirked as he trailed a cold finger down Buffy’s chest.
“So…you wanted me Slayer?”
“I’m starting to doubt that myself. Did you always ask this many questions?”
He laughed and buried his head in the golden curls of her hair.
“God, I’ve missed you, Buffy. Missed your scent…your voice…hasn’t been the same without you.”
“I know…I’ve never felt so out of place…like I’m lost….”
“Slayer without a home?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“Buffy, I get the feeling your worries are what brought us here. Why couldn’t you be worried about someplace less…?”
“Technicolor?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. But at least we’re together, right?”
Spike sighed and draped his arm around Buffy’s shoulder.
“I s’ppose so, Slayer. But, since we are alone, I plan on making good use of our time….”
Pushing her down on the bed, Spike climbed on top of Buffy, slipping his hand underneath her checkered dress. As his fingers found their destination, a meek voice came from behind them.
“Sorry to interrupt…but, who crashed this house? They killed the Wicked Witch of the East!”
A dozen high-pitched giggles killed the lusty mood, and Spike rolled off of Buffy with a groan. He blinked in disbelief as his eyes fell on the pink-satin frocked woman before them.
“Glinda?”
Tara smiled meekly.
“Well…yes. But most everyone here calls me Tara. Glinda was too….”
“Prissy?”
“Formal.”
“Ah.”
Buffy sighed, her hands on her temples.
“Oh…God…I think we have to…oh man,” she sighed. “No, we aren’t witches, witches are ugly and old.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at her and began to open his mouth to ask her what in the bloody hell she was speaking about, but the throngs of giggles silenced him. Buffy sighed again.
“Why are they laughing,” she said in a monotone voice, rolling her eyes.
Tara perked up as she led them outside.
“Why, because I am a witch!”
“Of course you are. Fabulous,” Buffy said, pulling Spike closer to her.
“Oi! Slayer!”
“Play along,” she whispered to him, “I think maybe that’s our ticket out of here!”
“Right. What happens next, pet?”
“You never saw ‘The Wizard of Oz’?”
He laughed.
“Buffy, love, I’m a vampire and I’m straight. Two factors that tend to keep one away from Judy Garland.”
“Oh, and ‘Passions’ is soooo straight!”
Tara cleared her throat.
“Anyway…you two killed the Wicked Witch of the East! Let the joyous news be spread, the wicked old witch at last is dead!”
“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Buffy said with a sigh.
Spike pinched Buffy’s round rump and laughed when she jumped.
“Not funny, pet.”
As munchkins of every sort climbed out of their hiding places and began to sing and dance, Buffy let out a small shriek and clung onto Spike, shutting her eyes tightly.
“Oh God…I almost forgot about the munchkins…ick ick…Oh God, I hate munchkins. Get ‘em away from me Spike!”
Spike simply shook his head and laughed.
“Oi, now that isn’t very nice, Slayer. We have to play nice now, right?”
Buffy’s lower lip shot out in her distinct pout, but she opened her eyes and released her death-grip on Spike.
“I forgot about the singing, though. Eh. A few days of bursting out into song were enough for me.”
“I concur, pet. Back in the house while they’re distracted, then?”
“Definitely.”
Buffy and Spike snuck into the house unnoticed, but didn’t make it past the front hallway. Spike, overcome with the small of an aroused Slayer permeating their surroundings, pinned her to the wall with a lustful shove. Their desperate need for each other leaving no room for foreplay, Spike quickly grabbed Buffy in his arms, pushed her back against the wall, and thrust into her. She smiled as she groaned with pleasure.
“It’s like the…ohhh…first time all over again….”
“Yeah, pet, but I don’t think we could wreck this house any further.”
As Spike delved deeper into her wet slit, the music and singing from outside faded into hysterical screams. Spike raised an eyebrow, but continued to pump into Buffy.
“What the bloody hell is that, love?”
Before Buffy could answer, a shockwave of a year’s worth of pent-up orgasms pulsated through her body. The clenching of her already taut walls drew Spike’s own orgasm from him. An angry, yet dreamy voice cut through the screams outside, silencing them.
“Where are they? Where are the two naughty pixies that squished my sister?”
Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes as Spike let her down.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Hand-in-hand they walked out onto the yellow-brick road and were greeted by a furious Drusilla, who was dressed in a long, black frock and a clichéd witch’s hat. Spike’s eyes grew wider.
“Dru?”
Drusilla hissed at him.
“You! You killed her! Smooshed her! And,” she gasped, staring at Buffy’s shoes, “Stole her shoes! Bad, terrible…naughty white hats!”
Buffy’s face contorted quizzically at Spike.
“White hats?”
“Blondes, love, try to keep up.”
“Oh, now I’m the dummy? I’ve seen the movie Spike.”
“Well, Miss. Smarter-Than-Thou, how do we get out of this?”
Buffy turned and gave a nudging glare to Tara, who shook herself out of her dazed state.
“Ah, yes, right. Be gone! You have no power here,” she said to Drusilla, flicking her wrists and a long wand around her. “Watch out or someone will crash another house on you!”
Drusilla shrieked and stared at the sky.
“Evil sky! Stars and houses are no good from you! Evil, foul thing,” she said before turning her enraged glare at Buffy and Spike. “And you two…I’ll get you if it’s the last thing I do!”
Drusilla cackled as she waved a broom around in merriment before lifting off into the sky, a cloud of smoke behind her. Spike raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who shrugged.
“Well that’s….new, isn’t it, pet?”
Buffy sighed.
“We have to follow the whole yellow-brick-road thing now. Find the Wizard and what-not.”
As the beginning notes to the song started to sound in the air, she held up a warning hand to Tara and the munchkins.
“Don’t. Just…don’t.”
--
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Italics=internal monologue.