Prompt 360 - Labyrinth - What the F... Part 13 - BTVS - comlodge

[comlodge.livejournal.com]

Title: Consequences...

Author: comlodge
Charachters: Spike/Ensemble
Genre: Fiction, Humour, Angst, Mystery, Magical stuff
Words: 2,600
Summary: Set in an AU S6. Someone casts a spell and silliness ensues.   Part 13 of the What the F...? Series. No idea how many parts.
Rating: NC17 for sexual innuendo/misplaced breasts/self gratification/naughty thoughts/actual sexual congress/alluding to actual sexual congress/same sex sex, you know boy on boy, girl on girl/ bad spell chanting
Prompt:   Originally nekid_spike April Spring Fertility Fling  tamingthemuse Labrynth
Disclaimer: You know they belong to Joss but he never wrote this stuff.
Previous Parts here. If you don't read the previous parts this won't make sense at all. If you do read the previous parts it probably still won't make sense but I'll have made you look.

Previously on What the F…? The Scoobies all woke up in various states of compromise and dazedness, after their hot night of lust and sex. Spike and Buffy were discovered en-flagrante, in the bathroom of Giles flat, by none other than the watcher and the whelp. In the glare of discovery, Buffy, in her very own sweet, inimitable style, turned on her bathroom partner and Spike fled the scene, with something fluttering, though obviously, not his virtue. I’ll give you a clue, he wasn’t wearing any pants.

Now read on…

The Scoobies were once again, gathered in Giles flat. The babble of their conversations droned through the open room and drifted up the stairs, to the bedroom. Giles had retreated there to dress, before they got into comparing notes and deciding on a course of action. He was currently searching the room for any signs of a mystical nature that did not belong there. It had been a strange and difficult morning since he had awoken, in a shocked daze.

It had been for all of them. There was a great deal of awkwardness amongst them, as they each re-lived the previous night’s activities. Thoughts of what they had all been up to were confusing and upsetting and they struggled to search for an answer as to why they had acted as they had.

Giles stood up from his futile search under the bed and sat on it. He ran his hands through his hair, took his glasses off, realised he had no handkerchief to perform his usual thinking ritual and instead dropped his head into his hands. He'd had sex with Spike. My god, he'd willingly sunk into that cool channel, ran his hands across the silky pale skin, kissed him with ardour. Not since, well, not since his youth, since Ethan had beguiled him, had he been with another man. He'd not even been tempted in that direction.

He acknowledged to himself, that he'd glanced, once or twice at the vampire, admired the body on such open display, in the skin tight uniform the vampire insisted on wearing. But still, nothing would have led him to believe that he would ever habour a desire to be closer to the creature. He had no understanding of how he could have even thought about touching the monster that was Spike.

An image of the vampire and Buffy, lying naked, entwined, on his bathroom floor, flooded into his mind and he felt a rising flare of jealousy run through his body. This was intolerable! He could not believe that he wanted the little bastard; was almost homicidally jealous of Buffy over him. He could still feel the hot desire that had driven through him, to wrest the girl from the vampire's arms and throw her across the room, whilst yelling something like 'get your hands off MY vampire' when he had seen them, there on his bloody bathroom floor! Such jealous rage had never visited him before. Why was it doing so now? Where was it coming from? Why did he want the vampire like he had wanted no other?

...

The Scoobies had subsided into silence. The conversation had been awkward and stilted to say the least. Anya and Xander sat at opposite ends of the sofa. Both were staring at the floor in front of them, silently. Xander was in a funk, with thoughts of pale skin running through his head. He wasn’t as shocked as he thought he should be, or as disgusted for that matter. Whatever had been influencing them last night, he remembered the feeling of satisfaction and peace with which he had slid into sleep.

For her part, Anya was recalling other nights she had spent solely in the company of women, as they’d pleasured each other physically and mentally. After all, only a woman truly knows the paths to the orgasmic centre of another woman. She’d enjoyed last night more than any night in a century or more. She smiled to herself as she replayed it over again, feeling the warmth grow between her legs.

Buffy still sat on a chair at the table, where Tara and Willow had seen to the bite marks on her neck. Even now her hand was caressing the area, sending tingles through her body. A sense of loss and longing hung on her that she felt but had no hope of understanding. She felt again the cool hands and tongue of her lover, the skillful ways he knew how to please her. None before him had ever taken the time to satisfy her as Spike did. Why, why did he have to be a soulless creature? Why did he have her so firmly under his spell?

Willow and Tara were seated at Giles’ desk; Willow idly flipping through the book in front of her; Tara sitting silently beside her, watching from under the cloak of her fringe. Willow was still tingling from last night. She’d never had such an intense feeling of being loved and of loving as she did when the three of them had writhed on the mats on the training room floor. She’d been a lesbian for such a short time, and last night was a revelation for her to the depths and heights a woman could take her too.

Tara smiled out from under her fringe, as she looked at Willow and saw the colour rising in her lover’s cheeks. She knew that, like herself, Willow was replaying scenes from last night. It had been strange at first to share such intimacy with another woman, but then it had moved to adventure and on into heaven. She knew that if either of the other two suggested a repeat, she would be there.

...

Spike hobbled through the sewer tunnels toward his crypt. His bare feet were an angry red where the sun had got to them and a little charred where they had ignited. Fortunately there was water flowing through the drain he’d landed in, when he’d dropped through the manhole outside the watcher’s building. His lower legs were also burned as well as three of the fingers on his left hand. They’d been exposed holding his coat closed to protect his naked body.

In hind sight, he might have been a little hasty leaving the safety of Rupert’s flat, with nothing but his coat to protect him. It’d be just his luck to come across some nosy bloody demon, on his journey through the tunnels. He snorted. He didn’t seem to be having much bloody luck about anything lately. Okay, he was doing the slayer. In moments of honesty, like now, he knew that was about the sum of their relationship. Another snort escaped him. “Relationship? Yeah right, Spike, old chap. Just keep telling yourself that, you deluded prat! The only relationship you got going, is the one where you love her and she hates the ground you walk on. Fuck she was going to stake you, you stupid git! After everything we did and said last night, she was going to do it; just to save face with those wankers she calls her friends. … Bloody, sodding bitch. I’ve fucking had enough. Bitch is going to be sorry she ever fucking treated me like dirt under her shoe.”

He stumbled on, mumbling and cursing to himself.

…

In the house by the sea, the man, and sometime Chaos mage, Ethan Rayne, lay in a slumber so deep, that he did not waken at the sound of cloven hooves, dancing noisily across the wooden floor, beside where he lay.

The two demi-gods, for that indeed was what they were, had rampaged through the house, searching from attic to cellar. In said cellar, they had stumbled upon a locked door that, when opened, revealed a treasure trove of dust covered bottles, laid meticulously in cob web laden shelves.

After unceremoniously breaking open a bottle each and downing the contents, they both hastily gathered an armful of the sweet nectar, and returned to the room they had first appeared in. They had spent the time since, emptying all of the bottles and engaging in drunken reminisces of times past.

"Well Silenus, this has been a merry night indeed. Fine wine and good company. But, it is time to return. Methinks our work here is done."

"Indeed, Faunas. This stupid human will find that he has reaped far more than he intended to sow."

As he said this, Silenus bent to the man lying on the floor and whispered in his ear. He straightened and signaled to his fellow god.

"I think the humans will be led on a merry dance before they work their way through the labyrinth of mischief we have played tonight."

They stood in the centre of the circle on the floor, beside their tiny representations. Silenus raised his hands and as he did so a mist of blue and green began to lift into the air around them. As it deepened to hide the figures within, there was a bright flash. The haze began to disperse, revealing only the figure of the unconscious mage, curled on the floor.

...

Giles stood on the stairs to the ground floor and looked at the scene before him. He could see guilt, confusion and worry etched on each face that turned to look up at him. All of them had apparently had a similar experience of unbridled lust and loss of control with whoever they had been with, at the time. His gaze lingered longest on his slayer, specifically at the bite marks on her neck. He noted that she was continually stroking them in an almost languid, sub conscious way.

He shook his head at the thoughts that rose unbidden. He knew something of the effects of a vampire's bite, particularly in certain circumstances. He hoped that the two had not performed a mating claim during their time in the bathroom but he very much suspected they had. He would need to research the ritual first though, before he tackled Buffy about it. He would also need a stiff drink to help quell the other thoughts that rose, as he looked at the bites left by his vampire.

He descended the stairs and walked toward the kitchen. "I think that I need a cup of tea and then perhaps we might gather together the information each of us has, er, gleaned, from last night. We need to get to the bottom of this before anything else untoward occurs."

"Um, I could go get us some don-nuts or something, for breakfast." Xander volunteered as he stood up from the sofa.

"Yeah, do-nutty goodness would be of the good. Sugar is fuel, after all." Willow glanced around at her fellow Scoobies, an attempt at a smile across her face.

"Yes, I th-think something to eat w-w-would be a good idea. Perhaps w-we c-could go w-with you and g-get some coffees, Xander."

"Yeah, good idea Tara. No sense starting a meeting on an empty stomach." Xander started towards the door.

"Yes, alright. Of course. An excellent idea, Xander. Perhaps the four of you can go and Buffy and I will, er, wait here."

"I really should go check on Dawn." Buffy jumped up from her chair.

"I believe you said that Dawn was at a friend's place for the weekend, Buffy?" Giles looked at her, one brow raised in question.

"Oh, right. Yes, she is. I sort of forgot for the moment, what with everything that's happened. Maybe I'll just go with the guys and get the food. Many hands making with the light load and all." She grinned sickly at the group.

"I think we need to have a chat, Buffy. About what you were doing with my v..., er Spike. Don't you?"

"Hokay, then. Me and the girls will be right back." Xander strode to the door and held it open for the three women. As he followed after them, he turned back for a quick glance at Buffy. She'd returned to her seat at the table and was currently drawing circles on it with the finger of one hand while the other was back, playing with the marks on her neck. He pulled the door closed.

...

Spike had finally reached the safety of his crypt. He stumbled through the opening into his bedroom, his feet now bloody from numerous cuts caused by the detritus of humanity that littered the sewer floors. He was by now in a completely maudlin state, lost in an agony of pain, self-recrimination, hope, despair and total confusion. He slumped onto the side of his bed, lifting each foot in turn to inspect the damage and remove a couple of larger pieces of iron and glass.

“Bloody, filthy humans. Throw anything into the sewer, they will. Bastards got no thought for anyone but themselves. If I ever get this chip out, someone is going to pay.” He thought about getting up to get something to clean and bandage his feet so that his sheets wouldn’t get stained. He liked to keep the crypt, especially this room, clean and tidy for when the slayer visited. He still had hopes that she might actually stay over one night and they could wake up together, in each other’s arms.

Like they had this morning. The thought reminded him of what they had done with and to each other, last night. His hand went to the ragged bites on his neck. He wished he could see them. Dru had broken their last Polaroid camera though and he hadn’t got another. As his fingers stroked gently across the chewed flesh, he felt the sensation rippling through his body.

My god, they’d claimed each other. He wasn’t really up on the whole ritual of a claim. He’d resisted Angelus’ attempts to teach him proper Vampire lore and custom and so had only a rudimentary knowledge. He’d once attempted a claim on Dru but she had simply laughed at him, babbled some nonsense about the stars and refused him.

Didn’t matter anyway because they were already mates in all the ways that Spike cared about, even if he resented that he had to share with Angelus. Course he’d also had sex with both Angelus and Darla, not that he’d ever got to instigate that. But he had understood it was a vampire family thing. Vamps were very sensual creatures. All of their senses were heightened so it was only natural that sex was often instigated from feeding or fighting or simply touch. He’d never doubted that he and Dru belonged to each other. Not until Brazil anyway.

He sighed to himself. He knew that he was in for a whole lot of heart ache now. The Slayer obviously didn’t have a clue what they’d done. Hell, he didn’t really have a clue. He couldn’t bloody believe it. He could still taste her blood; feel its power swirling through him. Already the cuts and burns on his feet were doing that annoying healing itch and he knew it was a result of slayer blood. He could also still taste her other juices, still feel her inner muscles as they’d squeezed him into mind shattering climaxes.

Suddenly a wave of tiredness came over him. He’d been living under stress since the bloody Initiative wankers shoved the chip up his brain. This was just more of the same. Sod the bloody sheets. He’d nick new ones to replace them.

He shed the coat still hanging off his shoulders and slid under the sheets and let sleep take away, for a while.

…