Fic: BtVS/Angel: Spike/Riley: Under Glass 5/17: Experimental Error
Title: Under Glass.
Chapter: 5/17: Experimental Error
Author: Trepkos
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel
Pairing: Spike/Riley
Rating: NC17 overall.
Standard disclaimer: no profit made, no copyright infringement intended.
Thanks for beta: shapinglight
Feedback: yes please.
NB. This fic has not been Brit-picked - please let me know if anything ain’t right.
Links to all my fic so far: Altered States
Previous Part Missing in Action
5: Experimental Error
Ethan yawned and stretched. It had been a long couple of days, and Maggie Walsh’s company wasn’t making the time go any faster. There was no entertainment, nowhere to take a bath, and the plumbing in the loo in the vestry wasn’t working.
Maggie was hunched over the snow-globe, as usual. Due to the sonic residue of years of prayer and hymn-singing that still clung to the old stones, reception inside the chapel was a little sketchy at times, but they’d still managed to pick up some of Graham’s conversations with other members of the Finn household.
One of them rang a bell in Ethan’s mind: the vampire called Spike, who Maggie hated so vehemently. He’d seen him, hadn’t he? Some years ago: a merry night of mayhem, that Halloween in Sunnydale. Though the vampire seemed very different now, Ethan was becoming quite fond of the fellow. Perhaps it was ex-pat solidarity, or perhaps it was just that his dislike of Maggie Walsh was growing exponentially.
Maggie got up and went over to the bell jar housing Dracula. “I don’t understand it. The spell seems to be having no effect on the vampire. Perhaps magic is ineffective against demons.”
“Or perhaps his driving licence is in a false name,” Ethan speculated. “That seems more likely. You could try doing the ritual again, with the name he normally goes by. Everyone seems to call him ‘Spike’.”
As he watched Maggie selecting the next-best mandrake root and raven feathers, scraping more material off the little device, and writing the names on the handmade paper, he began to wonder whether this was worth his while. He was seriously considering doing his trademark skedaddle. Maggie probably wouldn’t keep her side of the bargain anyway, once she’d got what she wanted, whatever that really was.
She was busy lighting candles and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him, so Ethan wandered casually between the pews, working his way towards the far end of the chapel, and the door.
Then she began the ritual. “Oh Great Eris, Goddess of Discord. Sow your seeds between Riley Finn and Spike. Fill their bed with thorns and their hearts with briars. May they tear each other, tooth and nail.”
She really was a spiteful old hag.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.
Ethan flinched, but carried on towards the door. “I just thought I’d take a walk outside. Last time you did this, the fumes made my eyes water.”
“Come back here. You’re supposed to be supervising this.”
Ethan swallowed, and reluctantly made his way back to her. He tried to stay far enough away to avoid breathing in the acrid fumes.
When the ashes had cooled, Maggie removed the stopper at the top of the bell-jar containing the miniature soldier, and tipped half of the ashes on top of him.
He looked up, choking and brushing ash from his face, then leapt into the air, trying to reach the opening.
Maggie slammed in the stopper, and nodded approvingly. “That’s my boy. Still fighting!” She poured the remainder into the jar containing the toy vampire and waited, tapping impatiently on the glass.
Once again, nothing happened.
“Why isn’t this working?”
Ethan took a step back behind a pillar, in case she decided to vent her anger at him. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s because he’s a vampire.”
“You’re supposed to be the expert!” Maggie was almost spitting. “The connection I most want to break - and it isn’t working.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry. Riley is already turning against him.” Ethan sighed. “That should be enough to break them up quite soon, unless this Spike fellow is some kind of masochist.”
Spike had already put up with some shoddy treatment from Riley, thanks to their dabbling. It gave Ethan an empathetic ache somewhere inside. How long had he hung around like a whipped cur, hoping Ripper would change his mind?
He glanced at the snow-globe. Spike was leaning on the porch rail, smoking: the picture of dejection.
Ethan looked away. He nudged some of the pilfered items - a cigar stub, a scrap of material, some strands of black and white fur, and some longer, coarser hairs. “At least we know who most of these things belong to now. Not sure about this ribbon though.”
“The father mentioned a niece, Rebecca, but I shan’t bother about her just yet.” Maggie tapped on her teeth with her fingernails. “It’s quite possible that I’m simply not practised enough in this … discipline to influence a vampire. But a dog has a fairly simple brain. It should be easy to subvert. Yes, I think I might try the dog next. I’m rather fond of dogs - as experimental models, that is.”
She took the tangle of black and white fur, and went through the ritual once more, but with the dog’s name written on the paper instead of Spike’s. “Oh Great Eris, Goddess of Discord. Sow your seed between Riley Finn and the canine, Jess. May she bite his hand and feel his boot.”
Ethan grimaced.
Maggie placed a bell-jar over a toy Alsatian dog. She tipped some of the ashes inside, and before the stopper was even in place, a small black-and-white border collie was chasing its tail inside the jar.
As she poured the remaining ashes over the soldier representing Riley Finn, he raised his rifle and fired it at the opening. Maggie jumped backwards, then jammed the stopper in place, and a rattle of tiny pellets ricocheted around the jar.
The soldier dropped his empty weapon on the ground. He crouched down, covering his head.
“My goodness,” Maggie said. “I didn’t realise the weapons they issued with these toys actually worked.”
Ethan said nothing - just rolled his eyes. He hadn’t noticed goodness being one of her qualities.
Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Well, that’s the dog taken care of. Very good. Now for the horses.”
There was a tap-tap-tapping, and Ethan turned to see GI Joe banging on the glass walls of the bell jar with his impotent fists. He could have sworn he heard the figure yelling, “No! No! No!” as it punched the glass, and punched it again. It went on punching until its tiny knuckles bled.
~~
Chapter: 5/17: Experimental Error
Author: Trepkos
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel
Pairing: Spike/Riley
Rating: NC17 overall.
Standard disclaimer: no profit made, no copyright infringement intended.
Thanks for beta: shapinglight
Feedback: yes please.
NB. This fic has not been Brit-picked - please let me know if anything ain’t right.
Links to all my fic so far: Altered States
Previous Part Missing in Action
5: Experimental Error
Ethan yawned and stretched. It had been a long couple of days, and Maggie Walsh’s company wasn’t making the time go any faster. There was no entertainment, nowhere to take a bath, and the plumbing in the loo in the vestry wasn’t working.
Maggie was hunched over the snow-globe, as usual. Due to the sonic residue of years of prayer and hymn-singing that still clung to the old stones, reception inside the chapel was a little sketchy at times, but they’d still managed to pick up some of Graham’s conversations with other members of the Finn household.
One of them rang a bell in Ethan’s mind: the vampire called Spike, who Maggie hated so vehemently. He’d seen him, hadn’t he? Some years ago: a merry night of mayhem, that Halloween in Sunnydale. Though the vampire seemed very different now, Ethan was becoming quite fond of the fellow. Perhaps it was ex-pat solidarity, or perhaps it was just that his dislike of Maggie Walsh was growing exponentially.
Maggie got up and went over to the bell jar housing Dracula. “I don’t understand it. The spell seems to be having no effect on the vampire. Perhaps magic is ineffective against demons.”
“Or perhaps his driving licence is in a false name,” Ethan speculated. “That seems more likely. You could try doing the ritual again, with the name he normally goes by. Everyone seems to call him ‘Spike’.”
As he watched Maggie selecting the next-best mandrake root and raven feathers, scraping more material off the little device, and writing the names on the handmade paper, he began to wonder whether this was worth his while. He was seriously considering doing his trademark skedaddle. Maggie probably wouldn’t keep her side of the bargain anyway, once she’d got what she wanted, whatever that really was.
She was busy lighting candles and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him, so Ethan wandered casually between the pews, working his way towards the far end of the chapel, and the door.
Then she began the ritual. “Oh Great Eris, Goddess of Discord. Sow your seeds between Riley Finn and Spike. Fill their bed with thorns and their hearts with briars. May they tear each other, tooth and nail.”
She really was a spiteful old hag.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.
Ethan flinched, but carried on towards the door. “I just thought I’d take a walk outside. Last time you did this, the fumes made my eyes water.”
“Come back here. You’re supposed to be supervising this.”
Ethan swallowed, and reluctantly made his way back to her. He tried to stay far enough away to avoid breathing in the acrid fumes.
When the ashes had cooled, Maggie removed the stopper at the top of the bell-jar containing the miniature soldier, and tipped half of the ashes on top of him.
He looked up, choking and brushing ash from his face, then leapt into the air, trying to reach the opening.
Maggie slammed in the stopper, and nodded approvingly. “That’s my boy. Still fighting!” She poured the remainder into the jar containing the toy vampire and waited, tapping impatiently on the glass.
Once again, nothing happened.
“Why isn’t this working?”
Ethan took a step back behind a pillar, in case she decided to vent her anger at him. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s because he’s a vampire.”
“You’re supposed to be the expert!” Maggie was almost spitting. “The connection I most want to break - and it isn’t working.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry. Riley is already turning against him.” Ethan sighed. “That should be enough to break them up quite soon, unless this Spike fellow is some kind of masochist.”
Spike had already put up with some shoddy treatment from Riley, thanks to their dabbling. It gave Ethan an empathetic ache somewhere inside. How long had he hung around like a whipped cur, hoping Ripper would change his mind?
He glanced at the snow-globe. Spike was leaning on the porch rail, smoking: the picture of dejection.
Ethan looked away. He nudged some of the pilfered items - a cigar stub, a scrap of material, some strands of black and white fur, and some longer, coarser hairs. “At least we know who most of these things belong to now. Not sure about this ribbon though.”
“The father mentioned a niece, Rebecca, but I shan’t bother about her just yet.” Maggie tapped on her teeth with her fingernails. “It’s quite possible that I’m simply not practised enough in this … discipline to influence a vampire. But a dog has a fairly simple brain. It should be easy to subvert. Yes, I think I might try the dog next. I’m rather fond of dogs - as experimental models, that is.”
She took the tangle of black and white fur, and went through the ritual once more, but with the dog’s name written on the paper instead of Spike’s. “Oh Great Eris, Goddess of Discord. Sow your seed between Riley Finn and the canine, Jess. May she bite his hand and feel his boot.”
Ethan grimaced.
Maggie placed a bell-jar over a toy Alsatian dog. She tipped some of the ashes inside, and before the stopper was even in place, a small black-and-white border collie was chasing its tail inside the jar.
As she poured the remaining ashes over the soldier representing Riley Finn, he raised his rifle and fired it at the opening. Maggie jumped backwards, then jammed the stopper in place, and a rattle of tiny pellets ricocheted around the jar.
The soldier dropped his empty weapon on the ground. He crouched down, covering his head.
“My goodness,” Maggie said. “I didn’t realise the weapons they issued with these toys actually worked.”
Ethan said nothing - just rolled his eyes. He hadn’t noticed goodness being one of her qualities.
Maggie rubbed her hands together. “Well, that’s the dog taken care of. Very good. Now for the horses.”
There was a tap-tap-tapping, and Ethan turned to see GI Joe banging on the glass walls of the bell jar with his impotent fists. He could have sworn he heard the figure yelling, “No! No! No!” as it punched the glass, and punched it again. It went on punching until its tiny knuckles bled.
~~