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.
Nine:
Giles ran his finger down the page, scanning the Latin text for anything he may have missed. After a few more pages, he stood up, letting the book fall onto the table beside him.
“You can stop now,” he said quietly, rubbing his forehead.
Xander and Anya leaned back on the couch, their eyes watering slightly from the hours of reading small print. Buffy straightened up from being slouched over a thousand page text on sensual curses and sympathy charms. They all looked expectantly at Giles.
“We now know a little more about what we’re dealing with,” he began. “The ritual Willow performed was a piece of hybrid magick stemming from, primarily, voodoo and Celtic mysticism. We know that she changed it to work on a vampire by substituting certain ingredients for other, more powerful herbs. It seems to have worked perfectly.” He stopped, feeling the irony of his last statement. “That, of course, being beside the point.”
“So how do we reverse it?” Xander asked, leaning forward, his clasped hands between his knees.
“First, we need to find the text that Willow used originally - Buffy you search your dorm and Xander, you see if it was a library book.” He turned away from the group, as if dismissing them.
“I’m still missing the whole picture here,” Xander commented. “Yes, finding the book is important but I really would like to know exactly how we’re going to get Willow back.”
Buffy nodded. “I’m a little hazy on the details, Giles, just spell it out.”
He spoke without turning around. “My plan is to find the book. No details, no bigger picture. Time is of the essence so hurry along.”
Xander and Anya slipped out, holding hands, while Buffy sat in the middle of the floor staring at Giles’ back.
He could sense her gaze. “I don’t like feeling helpless, Buffy,” he stated softly. “Every time I look at these books, I discover a new paragraph, something else which can go wrong, some terrible aside that I missed the first time around.”
She stood up and moved to face him. “This isn’t your fault, Giles. You can’t watch us twenty-four hours a day, no-one can. We all screw up and the fact that you weren’t in the room to stop her from casting doesn’t mean anything. Willow’s an adult - she makes her own choices, even stupid ones like this.”
“I’m just a silly old man,” Giles said sadly. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “Now humour me and go find that damn book.”
< You don’t get it, Willow. Look at my mouth. Are my bloody lips moving, Willow? Are they? No? And you can hear me perfectly can’t you? Can’t you, Willow? Nod your head. Don’t die on me yet.> His thoughts became white noise when she started to panic.
< I don’t want to die. I’m too young to die. Why did he say die?>
He swayed slightly, overpowered by the loud, feral nature of Willow’s thoughts. She was frightened, her mind spinning in circles, trying to break out of the confusion and make sense of what she was hearing, what she was seeing and sensing.
It was a vicious circle - his panic fuelled hers and her heightened fear caused his to increase. They were both exhausted and in pain when Willow finally managed to calm herself. Spike could still feel her heart racing but her thoughts had become tame again, slipping back under control.
For the first time, he noticed she was crying. “Don’t cry,” he frowned, moving onto the bed. It was hard, trying to comfort her without actually touching her.
She looked up and he saw that his face was streaked with tears as well. “Spike? I…” her voice was lost in a torrent of sobs but her thoughts were still there. < I need this to stop, Spike. I’m changing, I can feel it.>
He reached out, putting his arm around her shoulders in what he hoped was a supportive way. The sensation of him touching her and her being touched by him swept through them both. He pulled his arm away quickly, trying hard not to…
Willow sprung off the bed, her face pale with surprise. She looked at the vampire, who was, by this time, sitting bolt upright on the bed.
She was leaving, gathering up her coat and running out of the door before he could think straight.
“Whatever you thought I thought, I didn’t think. You with your sick, twisted, sex-mad… did I say twisted?… mind,” he called out after her, but she was already gone.
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