FIC: Better Late Than Never (9/?)
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/N1: This part not beta'd. All mistakes, as always, are all mine.
A/N2: The Clash did indeed play The 100 Club in 1976.
I know you must be shocked to see another chapter so soon! We are winding up this bad boy.
In case you need to refresh your memory, though:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
The next a time some girl said "nice hair," to her, Buffy and Spike were walking into The 100 Club, and Buffy's fists clenched at her sides even as she felt her face heating up.
"She means it this time, pet," Spike whispered in her ear, lips brushing against her skin because it was so loud in there that he had to lean in close for her to hear him. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, and she should have punched him for that. She didn't even pull away.
Buffy hadn't actually seen her hair yet, just its very tall silhouette reflected in a shop window, so she ducked into the ladies' room to check it out. Spike had borrowed some hairpins from a woman who'd been walking by. She'd dug them out of her purse while Spike flirted and charmed her shamelessly and Buffy fumed next to him. Not because she was jealous. Because of...something else she would think of any moment now. But then the woman had left, and his hands were in Buffy's hair, surprisingly gentle as he pulled and pinned it into shape. In any case, it had really been worth it. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and a tough, cool, punk chick with awesome hair smiled back at her.
When she came back out, she found Spike lounging against the wall outside the rest room, listening to the band and scanning the crowd with a look of intense concentration on his face. A gaggle of girls stood in front of her, openly admiring him, and for a moment she was one of them. Seeing him as they must see him - all strong profile and sexy slouch. He turned his head and looked straight at her as if he sensed her presence, and she flushed at being caught staring. And the fact that he looked right past all those girls to find her was kind of blush-inducing, too.
"You invented the faux hawk," Buffy said, sidling up to him. Or, actually, shouted to be heard above the so-called music.
He grinned. "You look amazing, if I do say so myself."
"You like this band?" she asked. God, she was making small talk.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "This 'band' is The Clash, Buffy. Never thought I'd see 'em live again," he said with a grin.
Wow. Even she had heard of The Clash. But it still sounded like noise to her. "Are they going to play that Rock the whatever song?"
He laughed. "That comes later."
A new song started up, and Buffy cringed. "I can't believe you like this stuff. They call this noise, music?"
Spike began to chuckle, and she frowned at him. "What's so funny?"
"Never would know that I'm the one who's a century old."
She ducked her head to hide a smile. That really was something her mother might have said. "Oh...shut up."
"Good come back."
"Have you scoped the place out?" she asked, hurriedly changing the subject.
Spike nodded. "No sign of him yet. I'm sure he'll show soon, though, Buffy."
She wasn't actually so sure, but she appreciated Spike trying to reassure her. "So what should we do till then?"
Spike took her hand and began dragging her towards the stage. "Enjoy this noise they call music."
***
Giles had decided to perform the spell in the Magic Box. He had most of the supplies he needed there, and he could also do it alone without the rest of them hovering over him. This would go a long way in minimizing the danger to them - and an even longer way in minimizing his irritation with them. Their constant bickering and questioning his every move was driving him around the bloody bend.
And the worst of it was, he wasn't at all sure that the spell would work. Ideally, he should be using the blood of the individuals involved, and of course he didn't have that. Instead, he was using hair obtained from Buffy's and Spike's combs. It would have to do.
Giles reviewed the spell one last time. He'd assembled all of the necessary ingredients already, and now he went about setting them up on the table in the proper configuration. Candles, a ceramic bowl in which he placed the hair, and a few other things that he tried not to think too much about, ingredients he'd bought on the black market and had locked away for a very long time.
He lit a match, but hesitated as he went to light the candle. Something wasn’t right.
***
The music throbbed with an energy and intensity she hadn't experienced before. Even though it wasn't really her scene, Buffy had to admit she got caught up in it, her hips unconsciously moving to the rhythm.
The crowd surged forward, and Spike, who had placed her in front of him so she could see, was pressed up against her, his front to her back. Neither of them could move, other than swaying along with the crowd that surrounded them. She felt him, strong and solid behind her. He set his hands lightly on her shoulders, which felt really nice. And wrong. It was very wrong and she would tell him so if the music wasn't so loud. The song ended and the band announced they were taking a break, and as the crowd thinned, Buffy turned around within the circle of Spike's arms, looking up into his hopeful face.
"Well, isn't this right cozy?" Ripper stood there grinning at them, his arm slung casually around the shoulders of a dark haired, pixie of a girl with huge, green eyes.
Buffy jumped away from Spike in surprise, and Spike snarled at Giles.
"Anyone ever tell you, you have lousy timing?"
"Don't mind me, mate. Just here to perform a little time travel spell, but if you‘d rather stick around, have at it." He looked from Buffy to Spike and back again. "Can see where it might work to your advantage," he said.
"Who's your friend?" Buffy asked.
"Ah, don't worry. This is Deirdre. She‘s alright." Buffy's expression must have telegraphed her recognition of the name, because his eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Nothing. It’s just...you've mentioned her before," Buffy said, leaving out the part that it was after she was dead. The girl grinned up at Giles.
"Aw, aren't you sweet, Ripper," she teased.
He held Buffy's gaze for a moment, and his arm tightened around the girl.
"I'm assuming you brought the pretty little bird as more than arm candy, mate?" Spike said.
"You want a spell cast, I'm your girl," she said.
"And you have the crystal?" Spike asked.
"We have everything you need, baby," Deirdre said with a wink.
"So, what are we waiting for!" Buffy said.
Ripper shrugged. "Thought we'd listen to the last set."
"You have so got to be kidding me. Spike..." She looked to Spike for support and found him looking longingly at the stage as the band members picked up their instruments.
"It is the Clash, love."
"Spike..."
He cleared his throat. "Right you are. Let's get this show on the road!"
Ripper glanced at him in disgust. “My God, you're whipped.”
Spike just sighed. “Don’t I know it.”
Chapter 10
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/N1: This part not beta'd. All mistakes, as always, are all mine.
A/N2: The Clash did indeed play The 100 Club in 1976.
I know you must be shocked to see another chapter so soon! We are winding up this bad boy.
In case you need to refresh your memory, though:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
The next a time some girl said "nice hair," to her, Buffy and Spike were walking into The 100 Club, and Buffy's fists clenched at her sides even as she felt her face heating up.
"She means it this time, pet," Spike whispered in her ear, lips brushing against her skin because it was so loud in there that he had to lean in close for her to hear him. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, and she should have punched him for that. She didn't even pull away.
Buffy hadn't actually seen her hair yet, just its very tall silhouette reflected in a shop window, so she ducked into the ladies' room to check it out. Spike had borrowed some hairpins from a woman who'd been walking by. She'd dug them out of her purse while Spike flirted and charmed her shamelessly and Buffy fumed next to him. Not because she was jealous. Because of...something else she would think of any moment now. But then the woman had left, and his hands were in Buffy's hair, surprisingly gentle as he pulled and pinned it into shape. In any case, it had really been worth it. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and a tough, cool, punk chick with awesome hair smiled back at her.
When she came back out, she found Spike lounging against the wall outside the rest room, listening to the band and scanning the crowd with a look of intense concentration on his face. A gaggle of girls stood in front of her, openly admiring him, and for a moment she was one of them. Seeing him as they must see him - all strong profile and sexy slouch. He turned his head and looked straight at her as if he sensed her presence, and she flushed at being caught staring. And the fact that he looked right past all those girls to find her was kind of blush-inducing, too.
"You invented the faux hawk," Buffy said, sidling up to him. Or, actually, shouted to be heard above the so-called music.
He grinned. "You look amazing, if I do say so myself."
"You like this band?" she asked. God, she was making small talk.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "This 'band' is The Clash, Buffy. Never thought I'd see 'em live again," he said with a grin.
Wow. Even she had heard of The Clash. But it still sounded like noise to her. "Are they going to play that Rock the whatever song?"
He laughed. "That comes later."
A new song started up, and Buffy cringed. "I can't believe you like this stuff. They call this noise, music?"
Spike began to chuckle, and she frowned at him. "What's so funny?"
"Never would know that I'm the one who's a century old."
She ducked her head to hide a smile. That really was something her mother might have said. "Oh...shut up."
"Good come back."
"Have you scoped the place out?" she asked, hurriedly changing the subject.
Spike nodded. "No sign of him yet. I'm sure he'll show soon, though, Buffy."
She wasn't actually so sure, but she appreciated Spike trying to reassure her. "So what should we do till then?"
Spike took her hand and began dragging her towards the stage. "Enjoy this noise they call music."
***
Giles had decided to perform the spell in the Magic Box. He had most of the supplies he needed there, and he could also do it alone without the rest of them hovering over him. This would go a long way in minimizing the danger to them - and an even longer way in minimizing his irritation with them. Their constant bickering and questioning his every move was driving him around the bloody bend.
And the worst of it was, he wasn't at all sure that the spell would work. Ideally, he should be using the blood of the individuals involved, and of course he didn't have that. Instead, he was using hair obtained from Buffy's and Spike's combs. It would have to do.
Giles reviewed the spell one last time. He'd assembled all of the necessary ingredients already, and now he went about setting them up on the table in the proper configuration. Candles, a ceramic bowl in which he placed the hair, and a few other things that he tried not to think too much about, ingredients he'd bought on the black market and had locked away for a very long time.
He lit a match, but hesitated as he went to light the candle. Something wasn’t right.
***
The music throbbed with an energy and intensity she hadn't experienced before. Even though it wasn't really her scene, Buffy had to admit she got caught up in it, her hips unconsciously moving to the rhythm.
The crowd surged forward, and Spike, who had placed her in front of him so she could see, was pressed up against her, his front to her back. Neither of them could move, other than swaying along with the crowd that surrounded them. She felt him, strong and solid behind her. He set his hands lightly on her shoulders, which felt really nice. And wrong. It was very wrong and she would tell him so if the music wasn't so loud. The song ended and the band announced they were taking a break, and as the crowd thinned, Buffy turned around within the circle of Spike's arms, looking up into his hopeful face.
"Well, isn't this right cozy?" Ripper stood there grinning at them, his arm slung casually around the shoulders of a dark haired, pixie of a girl with huge, green eyes.
Buffy jumped away from Spike in surprise, and Spike snarled at Giles.
"Anyone ever tell you, you have lousy timing?"
"Don't mind me, mate. Just here to perform a little time travel spell, but if you‘d rather stick around, have at it." He looked from Buffy to Spike and back again. "Can see where it might work to your advantage," he said.
"Who's your friend?" Buffy asked.
"Ah, don't worry. This is Deirdre. She‘s alright." Buffy's expression must have telegraphed her recognition of the name, because his eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Nothing. It’s just...you've mentioned her before," Buffy said, leaving out the part that it was after she was dead. The girl grinned up at Giles.
"Aw, aren't you sweet, Ripper," she teased.
He held Buffy's gaze for a moment, and his arm tightened around the girl.
"I'm assuming you brought the pretty little bird as more than arm candy, mate?" Spike said.
"You want a spell cast, I'm your girl," she said.
"And you have the crystal?" Spike asked.
"We have everything you need, baby," Deirdre said with a wink.
"So, what are we waiting for!" Buffy said.
Ripper shrugged. "Thought we'd listen to the last set."
"You have so got to be kidding me. Spike..." She looked to Spike for support and found him looking longingly at the stage as the band members picked up their instruments.
"It is the Clash, love."
"Spike..."
He cleared his throat. "Right you are. Let's get this show on the road!"
Ripper glanced at him in disgust. “My God, you're whipped.”
Spike just sighed. “Don’t I know it.”
Chapter 10