All About Spike - Plain Version
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Out on a Limb
After Gone, before Doublemeat Palace
Buffy and Spike try to exorcize demons – personal and otherwise.
Self-contained story, with a but could be first instalment of an ep depending on feedback . It’s got a ‘have your cake and eat it’ ending that allows for either option.
Characters are the property of JW/ME et al. Sadly, no, I am not Al.
To Gargoyle and Caille, who gave me the original inspiration and who played dominatrices par excellence during edits.
Buffy strained to see what had set him off. All she could make out was a glint of leather and
a flash of that familiar white hair, all fluffy…wait. Was there a hair gel shortage she hadn't
“Guess their bite is worse than I thought,” she said. So now, he’s faking a demon attack? How pathetic is that.
Meanwhile, the hissing kitten heaved all of its oddly substantial might into clawing at Spike’s head.
“Ow. Stop.” He tried to grab it and it bit down on his hands. “Jesus! Hell! Get off me, you stupid git!”
Buffy stared as Spike flapped his arms around his head at … nothing. He looks kinda like he’s swatting away at a hive of bees, she thought, caught up in the spectacle. Performance art, hellmouth style? Hey. Maybe he’s finally gone insane.
Or maybe… it couldn’t be true, could it? Invisible tree demons?
Just then, the kitten let loose an enormous, “Meowwww.”
“Meow?” Buffy repeated. He does have a kitten up there. I’ll kill him. I. Will. Kill. Him.
Spike made a desperate grab and finally managed to snatch the damned cat. He disentangled it from his hair and stuffed it into his duster’s inside breast-pocket, clamping his fist round its jaws to stop it meowing again.
“Not ‘meow’,” he said. “‘Me…. Ow.’ Demon bit me, and all you can do is make animal sounds. Not very supportive, Slayer.”
“You’re right.” Lying creep.
“I am? … Right. I am.” Hey. She’s buying it!
“It’s time I took up my slayerly duties.” Should have slayed his … duties a gazillion years ago.
Buffy scouted around and grabbed a handful of large stones. “Where’s the evil tree demon now?” she asked.
“Where…? Er…” Spike made a show of looking about for it, staring up into the treetop, then at the limbs all around. “Yes! There.” He pointed to a spot about two feet to his left.
Buffy lobbed a stone straight at Spike. Bulls-eye. Damn, I’m good.
“Hey!” he protested. “What’s that all about? Why are you chucking rocks at me?”
“Oops,” she said. “My bad.”
“Who taught you to throw, Ray Charles?”
“Aw. Did that hurt?” she asked in her most innocent voice. “Did I hit Spikey by mistake?”
“Mistake, my eye,” he said. Right, then. Maybe she’s not buying it.
“It’s crying time again, Spikey.” She threw another stone. Direct hit.
“Yowch! You’re skating on thin ice, missy.” Calm down, Spike. You’re still one of the good guys for all she knows. I bloody well hope. He continued, “And why you’d want to attack someone who’s trying to help you – ”
“Whatcha gonna do, tree-demon slayer? Climb me to death?” Her eyes popped open, horrified. Did I really say that?
He flashed a thousand-kilowatt smile. “Could give it a go.”
“No go!.. ing. Going, ” she blushed.. “And no climbing.” She glanced at her hand and smiled. “Yes stoning.”
“Hey! Twenty-first century here,” he shouted. “Not middle fucking ages.”
She hefted a particularly large stone, and went into her wind-up. “Look out tree demon. Here comes Buffy.”
“No, wait!” he screeched. “Enough. I’m coming down.”
She relaxed. “Okey doke.”
Spike leapt from his perch in a single elegant whoosh and landed softly at her feet. The way he moved took her breath away. Bad Buffy. Stop. Now.
“So, where’s the demon now?” He still gonna play ‘ pin the blame on the demon?’
“Um.” He peered up into the green-black canopy of boughs, his brow furrowed as if deep in concentration. “There! – No. There – … Well, blast. Blast? It’s gone now. Got clean away.”
She just stood there, arms folded over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him.
Get out while you’re still ahead, he thought. Or, at least, while you’ve still got a head. “I’ll say goodnight now, Slayer.” He turned to go.
Shite. He turned back. “Yes?”
“Don’t you want to tell me something first?”
He tilted his head in confusion. “Um? Right! You scared off the demon. Saved my sorry ass. Many thanks. Bye.” Thank god, that’s done.
He turned again to go. Which the kitten took as a call to action. It converted Spike’s pocket into a kickboxing studio, then screamed at the top of its tiny lungs, “Meowww!”
“Me…Ow!” Spike covered desperately.
Oh, crap, he thought, remembering that the tree demon had supposedly vanished, giving him no excuse to make kitten sounds. This is a nightmare. If she thinks I’m still playing for puss— kittens, she’ll never let me touch her again. And that’s after she kills me.
“Spike.” Suddenly she was right there, putting a hand up to the pounding bulge on the left side of his chest.
He felt slightly dizzy, the way he always felt when she drew near. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“When’d ya get the breast implant?”
His eyes popped open and he reared back, staring at her.
“But, why’d you only do the left one? Some perverto vamp ritual? ‘Cause if it’s a lifestyle choice, boy, am I embarrassed. Never figured you for trans, but hey, open-minded.”
Why doesn’t she just get to the point? Oh, right. She hasn’t finished the torture.
“Silver lining? At least they gave you a heartbeat,” she offered, as the kitten continued to palpitate visibly.
Spike issued a long-suffering sigh, then sucked in his cheeks and pushed out his lips in a stifled grin. He reached into his duster and withdrew the now crazed and yowling kitten.
“Shut up, you,” he growled at the kitten. Surprisingly, it did.
“Well. I’m busted,” he said, giving her a dazzling grin. Might as well relish the evil.
Buffy moved as if to grab the kitten. Spike hiked his arm up out of reach.
“Let it go,” she snapped.
“Forget it. Do you know how valuable this furball is? Himalayans are rarer than hens’ teeth.”
“I don’t care, I – wait, please tell me that’s just an expression, and you’re not playing for barnyard animals now.”
His grin broadened. “Picturing cock fights, are we?” He slid towards her all sinew and rhythm. “All them cocks,” he drew the last word out and bit his lower lip seductively. “Excited… Jumping about… Throbbing with anticipation.”
It wasn’t her anger that upset her. No, it was her growing excitement. “Stop it,” she shrilled. “I will have no cocks.” She turned crimson. “Fighting … cocks fighting. Fighting of cocks. None.”
“All right, love. How do you like ‘em, then?”
How did he suddenly get the upper hand? She was furious.
“Shut me up.”
“You said you didn’t want me if you couldn’t have all of me. Change your mind, integrity-boy? Or isn’t the tree demon the only one whose bark is worse than – ”
He grabbed her to him and kissed her.
She pulled away. “I don’t want…”
“What?” he whispered, stroking her face gently with his fingertips. He looked into her eyes, for something, anything.
“You,” she said. “Don’t want you.” She turned her eyes away from his gaze, but let him go on stroking her face. Then, still looking away, she took his hand in hers, and gently kissed his palm. “You,” she moaned, softly. “I want you.”
“I know, love.” He turned her head so she had to face him. He looked into her eyes. He saw … something. Not love, but something.
They let their bodies drop to the grass as they kissed.
She pulled back from him. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“No,” he said.
And then they lost the parts of themselves they could still afford to lose.
* * *
Meanwhile, the escaped and now forgotten Himalayan kitten paused by a large stone angel, looking back. Moonlight, or shadow, a trick of the light…a Cheshire grin flashed briefly, and then with a shimmer, it was gone.
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