Title: The Spike Experience
Author: Blue Zen
Email: i.love.spike@bloodyhell.co.uk
Distribution: Any archives that want it, take it! I’d love an e-mail with your site address though…
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Willow casts a spell, Spike has to suffer
Notes: Thanks to everyone who’s responded to this fic. Like every fanfic writer, I live off feedback so drop me a line.
Fifteen:
Anya was moving about with Buffy returned from the magick shop. She smiled a little at the scene before her - Xander fussing over his girlfriend, sneaking kisses when he thought Giles wasn’t looking and Giles sitting with his sleeves rolled up, reading intently while, at the same time, wrinkling his nose everytime he heard a kiss noise come from the other side of the room. He looked up when Buffy walked in, carrying a couple of paper bags.
“I think I got everything but can I say - Rat’s eyes, ew? I had to fish them out with my hands and they’re all squidgy and… yuck,” she stuck her tongue out at the memory.
Anya sighed, twisting from her position on the armrest of the couch, “I put spoons out, next to the jars. I was going for a sort of ‘pick ‘n’ mix’ thing, except, instead of sweets, occult supplies.” Giles and Buffy stared at her. “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”
Xander smiled, stroking her hair. “I think it’s cute.”
Giles cast his eyes skywards then shared a knowing smile with Buffy.
“So can we start?” the slayer asked, unpacking the supplies on the desk Giles was using.
He nodded, leafing through the book until he found the appropriate page. “The ritual is a little long but quite simple. Anya’s going to help with some of the finer points of the spell. She is, after all, our resident expert seeing Willow’s a little… indisposed at the moment,” he said softly.
“You know what I’d like?” Willow said, running her finger around the rim of the bath tub.
Giles looked around the room. His head was spinning, and the heat was unbearable.
Willow broke away from Spike, her eyes widening. “But I hid the book,” she said, panic entering her voice.
Spike looked up at her.
“I’d love to torture you some more,” she said, then pouted, “But I can’t do it in the normal ways, not with our little thing.”
“And what would be the fun in that?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the enamel tub. For a moment, she sat on the edge, running her bare feet up and down his legs, enjoying the feel of denim on the soles of her feet.
He closed his eyes. “Alright, don’t untie me,” he gasped, as the sensation lapped over him.
Willow climbed into the bath, resting her weight on his legs. The pressure hurt a little, but it was soon forgotten as her hands started unbuttoning his shirt, working their way slowly down the material, barely touching him.
“When I told you that you were more woman than the slayer, I meant it,” he murmured, his head bent as far back as the confined space would allow.
She ran her fingers up his now bare chest, then dragged her nails down. He bit his lip, waiting patiently for her next touch.
Willow spread herself lengthways on his body, stretching until her mouth was over his. She pulled his chin down, forcing him to look into her eyes.
“If I stopped now, would it be torture?” she asked, her lips curling into a smile. She moved her hips a little, he closed his eyes once again, savouring the friction and his teeth drew blood from his now swollen lip.
“Yes,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
The redhead looked down at him. “What if I stopped now?” she said, brushing his lips with her own.
“Now, that would be torture,” he breathed as she pulled away.
“‘Let the two souls, now one, separate and return. Let the marriage of minds fade, leaving each with his own, letting… letting the…’” he looked down at the book. He paused for a moment, feeling his concentration waver. They were so close to ending it - a few more words and it’d all be over.
Giles took a deep breath and refocused. “‘Letting the gateway close and the bodies become as before.’”
Buffy watched as sweat dripped from her watcher’s brow. She held her breath, waiting for the last part of the spell to be vocalised before she started blurring the circle of salt they had created.
As she sat up, she felt her mind become foggy once more - images flashed before her mind’s eye, bringing with them sounds and smells, each one dancing in front of her before fading. A wave of nausea hit Willow, making her sway. She clutched the side of the bath, tightly, her knuckles becoming white and her hands aching.
Spike shivered as he felt Willow seeping away from him, out of his mind. He could feel her withdrawing from his thoughts like a blade being pulled from his heart. There was a moment of emptiness when he looked up into her eyes, frightened when he saw she was empty as well, then, with a roar of whispers, he felt himself return.
His thoughts and memories flashed through his head and he welcomed each and every one as an old friend.
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