FIC: Better Later Than Never (4/?)
Title: Better Late Than Never
Author: Cindy
Rating: PG13
Timeframe: Season 5, post-Intervention
Characters/Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play with them
Written for: dettiot for the Welcome Back to the Hellmouth Ficathon, who requested S/B, humor, season 4 or 5, and Spike introduces Buffy to something from his past (bonus points for Brit pop culture) either through conversation or travel.
Summary: Spike and Buffy travel back to 1976 London to retrieve a magical artifact that may stop Glory.
A/N: Never has the title of a fic been so appropriate. *g* I hope you agree. Apologies for the embarrassing delay - I seem to be back on track, now. This part not beta'd, so I'd appreciate any oopsies pointed out to me.
In case you need to refresh your memory:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Better Late Than Never, Chapter 4
Spike was still staring at her, mouth hanging open in shock. If a kiss on the cheek could have this effect, she wondered what he would do if she...no, better not go there. Buffy placed her hand under his chin and pushed his mouth closed. “Don’t look so surprised, honey.”
"Can’t help it. You’re full of surprises, aren't you?" he asked, voice all soft and sweet and awestruck and she hated when he did that.
She could feel a blush rising to her cheeks, and ducked her head so he couldn't see. They were just playing a part, she told herself. It was just that she was a really good actress. Meryl Streep...Meryl Streep...
“What’ll it be?” The bartender was still giving them the evil eye.
“Pint of Guinness, and for the lady...”
“Diet Coke, please,” Buffy said.
“A what?”
“A Coca-Cola,” Spike interjected. The bartender shrugged and grabbed two glasses from behind the bar.
“Few years too early for Diet Coke, pet,” Spike said under his breath.
“Oops?” This whole fitting in thing was not going so well.
Spike took a wad of bills out of his pocket and threw a few on the bar. “Keep the change.”
The bartender grinned, surprised. “Ta, mate!”
Something wasn‘t right, here. “Hey wait a minute, where did you get all the funny looking money?” She grabbed it out of Spike’s hands. It was multi-colored and had a picture of the Queen on it. “You stole this from that guy on the street, didn’t you!”
“Shhh!” Spike retrieved the money and stuck it back in his coat pocket. “Couldn’t very well pay for drinks with American money from twenty-some years in the future, now could I?”
“I suppose not,” Buffy huffed. “But I still don’t like it.”
“Well, then you can yell at the watcher when we get back. Was his idea.”
“It was not!”
Spike nodded. “Oh yes it was. Good one, too. I’m gainin’ a new appreciation for the man as of late.”
“Yeah, because he keeps telling you to steal things!” Buffy shook her head.
“He’s just bein’ practical. Oughta try it sometime.” He motioned for the bartender, who was no longer looking at them funny since Spike gave him that big tip. “Toby around?” he asked.
‘Haven’t seen him tonight. Should be in later, though.”
“Let us know when he get’s here?”
The bartender nodded and went back to wiping down the bar.
"Did I hear you say you were looking for Toby?" asked a man out of nowhere. He was thin and dark-haired, and though he looked pretty young, the way he spoke made him seem older. Like he was the one in charge. He lay his hand on Spike's shoulder, but Spike turned sharply, effectively brushing it off. He gave the stranger an obvious once over. To the guy's credit, he didn't flinch. "Name's...Will," Spike said, sticking out his hand. "This is my girl, Buffy."
"Charmed," he said, as if he was anything but. "Are you two here for business or pleasure?"
"Business," Spike said, "though we wouldn't say no to a bit of both. Isn't that right, pet?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say. Honey.”
“You Toby?”
“No. Toby is unavailable at the moment, but I have full authority to operate on his behalf. What can I do for you?”
“We hear that you do trade in magical objects,” Buffy said, keeping her voice low. "We're looking for the Asirra crystal."
"I see. Well, you're not the only ones."
"Really?" Buffy said. "Who else wants it?"
The man smiled coldly. "I am not at liberty to share information about other potential clients. Confidentiality is key in our business, as I’m sure you can appreciate. But why don't we step into the back and discuss the terms of the sale in private?”
"You his lawyer or something?" Spike asked.
"Or something."
"So, just to be clear - we have the cash, we get the goods, yeah?" Spike asked. Although it often annoyed her, right now Buffy was really appreciating his tendency to come right to the point.
The man nodded and gestured for them to follow. “I have no interest in who ultimately obtains the crystal. I only want to secure the best possible outcome for my client."
Buffy followed Spike, who followed the man into a storage room. It irked her to act the part of the good little girl, following along behind her man, but she supposed it was necessary. Plus, the view wasn't bad.
"I know you’re starin' at my ass," Spike tossed back over his shoulder in a stage whisper. What, did vampire powers include eyes in the back of their head, now?
“Am not!”
"Are too," he said, craning his neck to look at her and nearly running into the back of their guide when he stopped to unlock a door. "See, you're blushin'." He grinned lasciviously.
"You...shut up, you!" she said, as they entered the storage room in the back. She was about to say something much more witty - she would think of it any minute now - when the door slammed shut behind her, and the world went black.
***
Willow sat on the sofa, flipping through the spell book furiously. She'd done everything right. She was sure of it! Pretty darn sure.
"Tara?"
"You did everything right," Tara said. She rubbed Willow's shoulder, but it didn't have the soothing effect it normally did.
"It's the same in...in every book. The spell is exactly the same. And they did...disappear and everything. That part went right..."
Anya perched on the edge of the coffee table and held out her hand for the book, peering at the pages closely. "Did you look at the writing on the second page?" she asked, tapping the eraser end of a pencil thoughtfully against her chin.
"Second page? What second page? There is no second page!"
Giles peered over Anya's shoulder. His face fell. "There appears to be one line on the second page."
Anya squinted. "In the proverbial fine print. Easy to miss." She reached over and patted Willow's knee as Giles took the book from her.
Willow put her head in her hands. "I thought it was a smudge.“
“What does it say?" Tara asked, putting her arm around Willow.
Giles moved the book closer to his face, then further away, trying to read it. Glasses on. Glasses off...
"You know," Xander said, “I may not have superpowers or spell-casting ability, but I do have 20/20 vision.” Giles sighed and handed the book over.
"It says, ‘Caution: no personal items other than clothing will be transported.’" He handed the book back to Giles. "What does that mean?"
Willow paled. "It means that the powder and the piece of paper I gave them with the return spell written on it didn't go with them."
"You mean..." Xander started to say.
"Yup," Anya said. "Up a creek without a...spell.'
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Buffy and Spike have no way of getting home."
Tara looked horrified. "You mean..."
"Yes," Xander said gravely. "They're...stuck in the seventies. Dun, dun, dun!"
Willow slapped his arm. "This isn't funny you guys! How are we going to get them back?"
Xander's smile faded. "Wait...you're serious? You don't have another way to get them home?"
"They're not coming back?" Dawn asked. She stood up from her seat on the stairs, where she'd been hiding the entire time. Big, fat tears rolled down her face. "You have to get them back! I need them!” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “ I...I need them.“ Xander rushed to put his arms around her, and she turned her head into his chest.
“Don’t worry, Dawnie. We’ll figure something out. We always do. We’ll get them back,” he assured her.
“We’d better,” Anya said. “Or else who's going to fight Glory?"
***
Buffy woke up with a start, grabbing her head in pain. She had no idea what had happened, except that she had a really bad headache and from the feel of it, the worst bed head of her life. Damn, all that hairspray. "What the...?"
"My thoughts exactly, pet."
She rubbed her eyes, her vision slowly coming into focus. Spike was sitting on the floor, leaning against a brick wall and rubbing his own head. He apparently had a bad headache and major bed head, too. His looked good on him, though. Bastard.
She sat up quickly, immediately regretting it. "What happened?"
"Someone did some major mojo on us pet. That prat was no barrister, he was a sodding mage." Spike rubbed his head and winced. "Bloody powerful one, too. I wager we've been out for awhile."
"Well we're awake now. Let's get the heck out of here!" She stood up and took a quick step forward before she was immediately thrown backwards, landing on her butt on the hard stone floor.
"You seriously didn’t think I tried that already?"
"A force field?" She turned to Spike in disbelief. "We're actually trapped behind a force field."
Spike nodded, wincing slightly again. "Could call it that. Magical prison, of sorts."
"Well you could have told me before I bounced off it and landed on my ass!"
Spike grinned. "Yeah, but that wouldn‘t have been nearly as much fun."
“I’m happy to provide you with some amusement.”
“Sorry, love,” he said, though he so didn’t look it.
She considered telling him to stop calling her that, or perhaps punching him in the nose. Instead she flopped down next to him on the floor and sighed. "Well, this sucks."
"Indeed."
"Any idea where we are?"
He shook his head. "Nary a clue. Not in the Slaughtered Lamb any more, that's for certain."
“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore, either."
"Well Dorothy, who am I, then? Your loyal dog Toto?"
"I'm thinking Scarecrow," she said. "You're definitely in need of a brain."
Spike sighed. "Yeah, well, we‘re definitely in need of some ruby slippers." He stood up and felt gingerly around the walls of their prison to determine their boundaries. The area was approximately ten by ten, two sides magical barrier, two sides brick wall. "Unless you've been studying defensive magic in your spare time, looks like our best bet's through this wall. Got any weapons hidden on you? Jack hammer? Nail file, maybe?"
Buffy shook her head. “All I‘ve got is my knife...” She felt inside her boot for the knife she had strapped to her ankle earlier. “Huh. I thought I had a knife.” She jumped to her feet. "But who needs weapons? I have my stompy boots!"
Spike nodded. "Good enough, Slayer. Let's give it a go."
The two of them raised their twin stompy boots in the air and were about to let loose with a tandem roundhouse kick when they heard a throat clearing behind them.
"I wouldn't if I were you," said the thin, dark-haired man, now known inside her head as evil magic guy.
"Wall's eight foot thick if it's an inch," said the man next to him. He plucked a cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in the air, all cool and leather jacket-y. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he said with a sly grin.
"I doubt the Slayer and her pet vampire would hurt themselves," said evil magic guy. "It would take a lot more than that to hurt them, I'd imagine. And believe me, I have. But...it might sting a little."
Buffy felt sick to her stomach. They knew. They knew what she and Spike were.
Spike took a step forward, as close to the magical barrier as he could get without being zapped. "What's your game, mate? We came here to make a legitimate business transaction, and wake up here. What do you want? Money? We can pay."
Evil magic guy threw back his head and laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Isn't that rich? They think they're being held for ransom or some such nonsense! How...romantic."
Leather jacket guy didn't respond, just continued to gaze at them steadily, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He looked a little...bored.
"Then what do you want?" Buffy asked, stepping up shoulder to shoulder with Spike. "There must be something. All you villainy types want something."
Evil magic guy stepped closer, until there were mere inches of air between them, shimmering with magic. "I've found a pretty little Slayer who seems to have somehow tamed the great William the Bloody to be her errand boy." He grinned, teeth bared. "And she's asking what we want with them, Ripper."
Buffy's heart dropped into her stomach. Ripper? A chill went down her spine. She had always thought that was just an expression, but it so, so wasn't. Buffy stared in disbelief, and those familiar eyes stared back with no trace of recognition. Or kindness. Nothing Giles-y at all. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no....
"It's like Ethan here's been trying to tell you, ducks." He threw his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with the toe of his boot. "We just want to have some fun."
Chapter 5
Author: Cindy
Rating: PG13
Timeframe: Season 5, post-Intervention
Characters/Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play with them
Written for: dettiot for the Welcome Back to the Hellmouth Ficathon, who requested S/B, humor, season 4 or 5, and Spike introduces Buffy to something from his past (bonus points for Brit pop culture) either through conversation or travel.
Summary: Spike and Buffy travel back to 1976 London to retrieve a magical artifact that may stop Glory.
A/N: Never has the title of a fic been so appropriate. *g* I hope you agree. Apologies for the embarrassing delay - I seem to be back on track, now. This part not beta'd, so I'd appreciate any oopsies pointed out to me.
In case you need to refresh your memory:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Better Late Than Never, Chapter 4
Spike was still staring at her, mouth hanging open in shock. If a kiss on the cheek could have this effect, she wondered what he would do if she...no, better not go there. Buffy placed her hand under his chin and pushed his mouth closed. “Don’t look so surprised, honey.”
"Can’t help it. You’re full of surprises, aren't you?" he asked, voice all soft and sweet and awestruck and she hated when he did that.
She could feel a blush rising to her cheeks, and ducked her head so he couldn't see. They were just playing a part, she told herself. It was just that she was a really good actress. Meryl Streep...Meryl Streep...
“What’ll it be?” The bartender was still giving them the evil eye.
“Pint of Guinness, and for the lady...”
“Diet Coke, please,” Buffy said.
“A what?”
“A Coca-Cola,” Spike interjected. The bartender shrugged and grabbed two glasses from behind the bar.
“Few years too early for Diet Coke, pet,” Spike said under his breath.
“Oops?” This whole fitting in thing was not going so well.
Spike took a wad of bills out of his pocket and threw a few on the bar. “Keep the change.”
The bartender grinned, surprised. “Ta, mate!”
Something wasn‘t right, here. “Hey wait a minute, where did you get all the funny looking money?” She grabbed it out of Spike’s hands. It was multi-colored and had a picture of the Queen on it. “You stole this from that guy on the street, didn’t you!”
“Shhh!” Spike retrieved the money and stuck it back in his coat pocket. “Couldn’t very well pay for drinks with American money from twenty-some years in the future, now could I?”
“I suppose not,” Buffy huffed. “But I still don’t like it.”
“Well, then you can yell at the watcher when we get back. Was his idea.”
“It was not!”
Spike nodded. “Oh yes it was. Good one, too. I’m gainin’ a new appreciation for the man as of late.”
“Yeah, because he keeps telling you to steal things!” Buffy shook her head.
“He’s just bein’ practical. Oughta try it sometime.” He motioned for the bartender, who was no longer looking at them funny since Spike gave him that big tip. “Toby around?” he asked.
‘Haven’t seen him tonight. Should be in later, though.”
“Let us know when he get’s here?”
The bartender nodded and went back to wiping down the bar.
"Did I hear you say you were looking for Toby?" asked a man out of nowhere. He was thin and dark-haired, and though he looked pretty young, the way he spoke made him seem older. Like he was the one in charge. He lay his hand on Spike's shoulder, but Spike turned sharply, effectively brushing it off. He gave the stranger an obvious once over. To the guy's credit, he didn't flinch. "Name's...Will," Spike said, sticking out his hand. "This is my girl, Buffy."
"Charmed," he said, as if he was anything but. "Are you two here for business or pleasure?"
"Business," Spike said, "though we wouldn't say no to a bit of both. Isn't that right, pet?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say. Honey.”
“You Toby?”
“No. Toby is unavailable at the moment, but I have full authority to operate on his behalf. What can I do for you?”
“We hear that you do trade in magical objects,” Buffy said, keeping her voice low. "We're looking for the Asirra crystal."
"I see. Well, you're not the only ones."
"Really?" Buffy said. "Who else wants it?"
The man smiled coldly. "I am not at liberty to share information about other potential clients. Confidentiality is key in our business, as I’m sure you can appreciate. But why don't we step into the back and discuss the terms of the sale in private?”
"You his lawyer or something?" Spike asked.
"Or something."
"So, just to be clear - we have the cash, we get the goods, yeah?" Spike asked. Although it often annoyed her, right now Buffy was really appreciating his tendency to come right to the point.
The man nodded and gestured for them to follow. “I have no interest in who ultimately obtains the crystal. I only want to secure the best possible outcome for my client."
Buffy followed Spike, who followed the man into a storage room. It irked her to act the part of the good little girl, following along behind her man, but she supposed it was necessary. Plus, the view wasn't bad.
"I know you’re starin' at my ass," Spike tossed back over his shoulder in a stage whisper. What, did vampire powers include eyes in the back of their head, now?
“Am not!”
"Are too," he said, craning his neck to look at her and nearly running into the back of their guide when he stopped to unlock a door. "See, you're blushin'." He grinned lasciviously.
"You...shut up, you!" she said, as they entered the storage room in the back. She was about to say something much more witty - she would think of it any minute now - when the door slammed shut behind her, and the world went black.
***
Willow sat on the sofa, flipping through the spell book furiously. She'd done everything right. She was sure of it! Pretty darn sure.
"Tara?"
"You did everything right," Tara said. She rubbed Willow's shoulder, but it didn't have the soothing effect it normally did.
"It's the same in...in every book. The spell is exactly the same. And they did...disappear and everything. That part went right..."
Anya perched on the edge of the coffee table and held out her hand for the book, peering at the pages closely. "Did you look at the writing on the second page?" she asked, tapping the eraser end of a pencil thoughtfully against her chin.
"Second page? What second page? There is no second page!"
Giles peered over Anya's shoulder. His face fell. "There appears to be one line on the second page."
Anya squinted. "In the proverbial fine print. Easy to miss." She reached over and patted Willow's knee as Giles took the book from her.
Willow put her head in her hands. "I thought it was a smudge.“
“What does it say?" Tara asked, putting her arm around Willow.
Giles moved the book closer to his face, then further away, trying to read it. Glasses on. Glasses off...
"You know," Xander said, “I may not have superpowers or spell-casting ability, but I do have 20/20 vision.” Giles sighed and handed the book over.
"It says, ‘Caution: no personal items other than clothing will be transported.’" He handed the book back to Giles. "What does that mean?"
Willow paled. "It means that the powder and the piece of paper I gave them with the return spell written on it didn't go with them."
"You mean..." Xander started to say.
"Yup," Anya said. "Up a creek without a...spell.'
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Buffy and Spike have no way of getting home."
Tara looked horrified. "You mean..."
"Yes," Xander said gravely. "They're...stuck in the seventies. Dun, dun, dun!"
Willow slapped his arm. "This isn't funny you guys! How are we going to get them back?"
Xander's smile faded. "Wait...you're serious? You don't have another way to get them home?"
"They're not coming back?" Dawn asked. She stood up from her seat on the stairs, where she'd been hiding the entire time. Big, fat tears rolled down her face. "You have to get them back! I need them!” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “ I...I need them.“ Xander rushed to put his arms around her, and she turned her head into his chest.
“Don’t worry, Dawnie. We’ll figure something out. We always do. We’ll get them back,” he assured her.
“We’d better,” Anya said. “Or else who's going to fight Glory?"
***
Buffy woke up with a start, grabbing her head in pain. She had no idea what had happened, except that she had a really bad headache and from the feel of it, the worst bed head of her life. Damn, all that hairspray. "What the...?"
"My thoughts exactly, pet."
She rubbed her eyes, her vision slowly coming into focus. Spike was sitting on the floor, leaning against a brick wall and rubbing his own head. He apparently had a bad headache and major bed head, too. His looked good on him, though. Bastard.
She sat up quickly, immediately regretting it. "What happened?"
"Someone did some major mojo on us pet. That prat was no barrister, he was a sodding mage." Spike rubbed his head and winced. "Bloody powerful one, too. I wager we've been out for awhile."
"Well we're awake now. Let's get the heck out of here!" She stood up and took a quick step forward before she was immediately thrown backwards, landing on her butt on the hard stone floor.
"You seriously didn’t think I tried that already?"
"A force field?" She turned to Spike in disbelief. "We're actually trapped behind a force field."
Spike nodded, wincing slightly again. "Could call it that. Magical prison, of sorts."
"Well you could have told me before I bounced off it and landed on my ass!"
Spike grinned. "Yeah, but that wouldn‘t have been nearly as much fun."
“I’m happy to provide you with some amusement.”
“Sorry, love,” he said, though he so didn’t look it.
She considered telling him to stop calling her that, or perhaps punching him in the nose. Instead she flopped down next to him on the floor and sighed. "Well, this sucks."
"Indeed."
"Any idea where we are?"
He shook his head. "Nary a clue. Not in the Slaughtered Lamb any more, that's for certain."
“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore, either."
"Well Dorothy, who am I, then? Your loyal dog Toto?"
"I'm thinking Scarecrow," she said. "You're definitely in need of a brain."
Spike sighed. "Yeah, well, we‘re definitely in need of some ruby slippers." He stood up and felt gingerly around the walls of their prison to determine their boundaries. The area was approximately ten by ten, two sides magical barrier, two sides brick wall. "Unless you've been studying defensive magic in your spare time, looks like our best bet's through this wall. Got any weapons hidden on you? Jack hammer? Nail file, maybe?"
Buffy shook her head. “All I‘ve got is my knife...” She felt inside her boot for the knife she had strapped to her ankle earlier. “Huh. I thought I had a knife.” She jumped to her feet. "But who needs weapons? I have my stompy boots!"
Spike nodded. "Good enough, Slayer. Let's give it a go."
The two of them raised their twin stompy boots in the air and were about to let loose with a tandem roundhouse kick when they heard a throat clearing behind them.
"I wouldn't if I were you," said the thin, dark-haired man, now known inside her head as evil magic guy.
"Wall's eight foot thick if it's an inch," said the man next to him. He plucked a cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in the air, all cool and leather jacket-y. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," he said with a sly grin.
"I doubt the Slayer and her pet vampire would hurt themselves," said evil magic guy. "It would take a lot more than that to hurt them, I'd imagine. And believe me, I have. But...it might sting a little."
Buffy felt sick to her stomach. They knew. They knew what she and Spike were.
Spike took a step forward, as close to the magical barrier as he could get without being zapped. "What's your game, mate? We came here to make a legitimate business transaction, and wake up here. What do you want? Money? We can pay."
Evil magic guy threw back his head and laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Isn't that rich? They think they're being held for ransom or some such nonsense! How...romantic."
Leather jacket guy didn't respond, just continued to gaze at them steadily, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He looked a little...bored.
"Then what do you want?" Buffy asked, stepping up shoulder to shoulder with Spike. "There must be something. All you villainy types want something."
Evil magic guy stepped closer, until there were mere inches of air between them, shimmering with magic. "I've found a pretty little Slayer who seems to have somehow tamed the great William the Bloody to be her errand boy." He grinned, teeth bared. "And she's asking what we want with them, Ripper."
Buffy's heart dropped into her stomach. Ripper? A chill went down her spine. She had always thought that was just an expression, but it so, so wasn't. Buffy stared in disbelief, and those familiar eyes stared back with no trace of recognition. Or kindness. Nothing Giles-y at all. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no....
"It's like Ethan here's been trying to tell you, ducks." He threw his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with the toe of his boot. "We just want to have some fun."
Chapter 5