Title Act the Third
Author Brutti ma buoni
Words 1000. Ish.
Rating PG13 - it starts out like an old porn trope, but I promise it doesn’t go the obvious way
Setting season 4, and following all my previous fics for the Mortifex challenge, most recently Act the Second. If you’re watching the vids too, this comes before the zombies.
Giles was looking awkward. Not a surprise. Buffy felt pretty damn awkward too. No one should have to talk about sex magic with their Watcher. Especially not with witnesses.
His last words seemed to echo in the dankness of Spike’s crypt. The fact they were all even in Spike’s crypt - in the downstairs bit, especially - testified to how badly things were going. The rising of the dead warlocks was... Well, a lot of things. Gross. Smelly. Irresistible, in the sense that they had so far found no way of resisting the powers unleashed.
Buffy had personally killed about a hundred corpsified warriors today, and they’d just kept on coming. It was only a glamour from Willow that had given the forces of good time to skedaddle into Spike’s crypt. Hiding here long term just wasn’t an option. There were spiders, and mould, and corpses that might be raised at any moment. And also Spike.
So something had to change, and soon. But hearing Giles say, “The situation is extreme, and radical action is essential. The most proven technique in dealing with the necromanced undead is sex magic, of course...” Still freaky. And gross.
It had to be Xander who said, “Say what? Sex magic? Hold me back!”
Giles frowned. “Since the sex in question also needs to be with a member of the undead, I really think you might hold yourself back. And there’s no-“
Anya said, way, way too brightly. “Like Spike? Sex with Spike would fix this?”
There was a short, painful pause, in which Buffy’s stomach dropped through her gut. For absolutely no good reason.
Then Spike started laughing.
And Giles said, “Well, with a suitable level of magical intervention , but-“
And Anya said, “Well, to save the world I guess I could-“
And Buffy heard herself say, “No you have a boyfriend if anyone has sex with Spike to save the world it should be me”, like it was all one word and with no pause for breath.
And Spike said, “Ladies, ladies, form an orderly queue.”
And Giles said, “-since it’s not our only option, as I have been trying to explain, I think we could perhaps leave the subject of having sex with Spike. If you don’t mind?”
There was a very long moment in which the world seemed to hold its breath. Buffy’s entire body attempted to persuade her brain that sinking through the floor was her next and only option. Magically-rising corpses in the surrounding earth notwithstanding.
So that was new.
Anya was giving her a death glare. Giles and Willow looked worried. Buffy really didn’t want to look at Spike.
She was incredibly relieved when someone changed the subject. “Okay, fair enough. Fuck or die not on the agenda today. So what’s the alternative, Rupert?”
So deep in her inner world of cringing embarrassment was Buffy, that it was only when the familiar, sneering use of Giles’s unfamiliar first name came that she realised her saviour was Spike.
Saviour. Spike. Not a combination she knew well.
She looked up. Spike was staring intently at Giles, who was explaining something about combining running water and electricity because liches couldn’t cope with them both. Willow was nodding, and taking notes. Xander was picking his fingernails. Only Anya was paying attention to Buffy’s world of trauma. She looked like a woman still prepared to arm-wrestle Buffy for the privilege of sacrificial magic vampire sex. (Kind of a relief. Buffy would have hated to discover that had all happened inside her head.)
There was a mission a-missioning. One that didn’t involve sex with dead guys. Sounded like it was time for Buffy to move out of the dank, dark underground space - and was it just Buffy, or had it got really hot in here lately?
Outside, making a break for the nearest water main with Spike as backup batting back corpses and Willow guiding them in the direction of some power cables, with nervous mutterings about how she was going to try not to electrocute them all with the big whammy, Buffy completely lost her mind.
She was trying to save the world from wizards, right? Not the time, not the place, definitely not the guy to be turning to and saying, “Thanks. For - back there. Thanks for not making it a big deal. I... thanks.”
And Spike was definitely not the guy to be mumbling, “Yeah, well, seemed like it wasn’t the best time to gloat. Though-“ and here he started to look more like Normal Spike, for a certain value of normal, “-if you keep on with the Freudian blurting, I’m gonna take you up on it someday.”
Buffy was feeling more normal too - killing more corpses helped, as usual - so she didn’t go back to cringing. “Yeah, well, if it saves the world...”
They were laughing while they killed things, and then Willow shouted to get down, and the world exploded in sparks and spray.
For a moment, Buffy was blind. Then she was surrounded, held down. She panicked - in an essential Slayerly way - and kicked out. Didn’t manage to shift her attacker, who merely gave an aggravated growl and said, “Keep still, woman, ‘less you want to be part of the firework display.” He paused. “Think my hair’s on fire, by the way.” Between them, they rolled over sufficiently to extinguish the fire and get Spike’s coat over them as some defence.
The world continued to explode around them, as they huddled close and hoped to survive. Their mouths were pretty much on a level. They’d kissed before. It really shouldn’t seem as earth-shattering as it did when they kissed again.
When Buffy broke off for air and attempted sanity, Spike gave a chuckle. “Not only to save the world, hmmm?”
“Shut up, Spike. I don’t even know why I...”
“Sure you do.” He poked his head out from under the leather coat. “Seems like Red’s finished playing with fire. We should check if any of the liches survived.”
Buffy stayed lying flat for a moment after he stood. Spike: kissable. Spike: taking the mission seriously. Spike: really, really kissable.
She wondered if it would be possible to blame Mortifex for any of this weirdness.
***