If You'll Be My Lifeboat

Updateyness

2009-11-08T02:14:45Z

Well, it's been an interesting few weeks.

Two weeks ago, my Dad called, sniffling, crying. My Dad doesn't cry often. It turns out my Mom's dog, Sweetness (who was only a year old) ran out on the road and died. My Dad was crying, my Mom was crying, it was sucky all around.

But my Mom then got a rescue dog named Matilda, but my Mom renamed her Sweetie? Noticing a theme? Not yet? Well, we used to have goats. One was named Love, the other Sweetestheart.

Yeah, whatever.

In other news, Halloween happened. I spent Halloween at my friend Anna's house (she's the coworker I adopted because despite how different we are, we get on well, and because it makes me an Auntie).

I was a bad witch, and she was a good witch (though it was only denoted through the use of black and white clothing).

Anywhoo, in work news, my boss called me into a meeting, which I knew would be one of those performance review type things. I was in the middle of something, so my hands were shaking as I finished my assignment. Anyways, it was quick, and he told me I was off of probation and that everything was pleased with my work. I've made a few mistakes in the past few months, but none of that was mentioned, just that everyone had noticed my improved attitude and work ethic, which was cool. But I did take the chance to address some of my mistakes and mention I'd learned from them, just as a sort of preemptive strike for my end of year preformance evaluation.

But yeah, things is good.

Love to all you all!

Birthday Fic for suki_blue: "The End of a Fixed Point," Torchwood, Teen

2009-10-31T07:35:05Z

Title: The End of a Fixed Point
Author: batmanvinnie aka vinniebatman
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Jack/OFC, Jack/ULOJS, Gwen/Rhys, Tosh/Owen
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Spoilers: For all of Torchwood, including "Children of Earth."
Disclaimer: I so totally own these shows. Bow Down! *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership toward "Doctor Who" or "Torchwood" are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
Betas: Thanks to kitty_poker1 for the character and canon check, and _beetle_ for the grammar and phrasing help.
Author's Note: Written for the birthday of my dear, wonderful, awesome friend, suki_blue. I love you!

* * * * * * * * * *

There is a strange phenomenon in dreams where, despite the fact that you're speaking with or seeing a person you don't actually know, the dreamer still KNOWS who that person is. It's strange, this clarity, in that despite the oddity of the situation and a change in appearance, there is a certain knowledge within an ever-changing landscape, an undeniable truth. It was in this same manner, with this same certainty, that Jack knew he was dead.

In his very soul, Jack knew that this moment, this death, would be his final death. For countless ages he'd lived, and it would finally be over. As darkness enveloped him, as his soul fell into it, the one word he could think was:

"Finally."

The word echoed through the dark that surrounded him.

Jack then realized that instead of dying and losing awareness, he was standing in the darkness, unseeing. It was strange. He'd thought that if he ever somehow died, then his awareness would cease. That he'd become nothing, and there'd be nothing. But if this was the end, would he spend the rest of eternity in the darkness and silence? Perhaps this was hell, his punishment for every wrong he'd committed since the day he'd let go of his brother's hand.

He cast his gaze about before looking down. Despite the fact that there was no light, he was somehow able to see his own body. It was the young, strong one he'd had back when he'd managed Torchwood, each detail the same right down to the suspenders and boots.

Torchwood.

Even after so many millennia, after knowing, loving, and losing so many, that word always struck him with staggering force and heartache. Torchwood was a bright, painful ache amid his memories. It was the first time he'd lost everything, the first time that he'd felt such a gut-wrenching sense of loss, on the heels of what had been a happy time. Saving the world, defending Earth with Gwen, Tosh, Owen and Ianto at his side.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut against pain that had never faded.

"Alright, then?"

Jack opened his eyes, and not in his wildest dreams or nightmares had he ever imagined that this was who or what he'd see once he died.

He blinked, uncertain whether to be… horrified or, well, even more horrified at such a disturbing turn. "Rhys?"

"Yeah, it's me." He stood there, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a pale blue button up, just as unchanged in this place as Jack was. It was such a shock that for a few seconds Jack was glad to see him. Until he realized the truth.

"You aren't Rhys," he said, his voice cold.

"And that's where you’re wrong, Captain Know-It-All. See, once you die, you don't just blink out of existence. The dark is just a holding place for those that aren't quite ready to die yet. Or those that're just too daft to go into the light."

Jack grinned ruefully. "Into the light? Really? That's the best you’ve got?”

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be so bloody condescending. According to reputable sources, energy doesn't end, doesn't dissipate, so it converts. When you die, you become part of the fabric of time. Eternal. You can see everything, be yourself in one place, and yet be everywhere. It's actually kind of hard to explain."

"My apologies, Rhys; I’d forgotten about your degree in quantum physics.”

"I didn't say I was an expert, just that I had reputable sources." Rhys pulled a face, annoyed, and shook his head.

"So if you are Rhys and I'm really dead for good, why aren't I in this light? Because the light sounds like a swell place," Jack said with fake sincerity.

Rhys sighed and narrowed his eyes.

"You have to go to it, be willing. Not be an angry, conceited prick about it.” He paused to take a deep, calming breath. "Anyways, they say that when you died all those times, all you'd see was nothing. So I'm supposed to explain that there really is an existence of sorts after death."

"And again, you know this how?"

Rhys cleared his throat.

"Reputable sources."
Jack clenched his fists. Whatever this apparition, this thing was, it was every bit as annoying as Rhys had been. Whoever was behind this whole thing had done their homework.

"Fine, so why are you here, then? Why not Gwen?"

"Oh, maybe because you're a paranoid git! We've been planning this for a long fucking time, mate, and we figured you'd think it was a trick if you were suddenly surrounded by loved ones tellin' you to 'go into the light.' We thought that of all the people you might trust but wouldn't really want to see, I'd be a good choice. Because you know me, and kind of trust me, but there's no bloody way I'd be the one you'd want to see when you died."

"Good point," Jack conceded, though that was all he was willing to concede. "But why would you want to help me? We were never on the best of terms."

Rhys tugged on his collar, then stopped and chuckled ruefully.

"It's daft; I haven't actually had a neck in bloody ages, but I still tug at my collar when I get uncomfortable." Rhys sighed again. "Look, we were never really friendly, but you proved that even though you can be a right jerk, you're a good man. You watched over our kids and grandkids for a long time. You even saved Jamie that time; I can't hate the man that saved my grandson's life."

"It was the very least I could do," Jack said, thinking, the very least.

"Too bloody right, it was."

They fell silent and looked away from each other. Rhys cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Anyways, that's why I was sent to fetch you. Though I would understand why you'd not want to go into the light. After all, almost every person you've ever shagged is in there," Rhys snorted. "They have conventions devoted to your bad habits, you know, and that John Hart fella always leads them."

Jack frowned. That was actually rather terrifying.

"Rhys!"

Rhys cringed at the sharp rebuke as a single small light appeared. The light grew and solidified until Gwen materialized out of the darkness.

"You're not meant to scare him away!" she yelled, her hands planted on her hips. She looked beautiful, her hair long and untouched by gray, eyes flashing as she squared off against Rhys, her shapely figure apparent in slim blue jeans and a short jacket.

"Gwen?" Jack's voice broke.

Gwen turned to him, her glare melting into a brilliant smile. "Yep. It's me. I'm really here. We're all here, Jack. We've been waiting for you."

She opened her arms and moved closer, and it was her. Right down to that sparkle in her eyes and the cute little gap between her front teeth. The love that emanated from her, even in this place, warming Jack’s heart.

It was an illusion. It had to be. But he'd give himself this moment, just one moment to pretend. He moved forward and stepped into the warm circle of her arms. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it; she even smelled the same, of gun powder, coffee and her favorite perfume.

"Ay, get your own wife! Or husband! You've got a couple million of 'em waiting!" Rhys squawked.

"So I'm guessing you're his 'reputable source,'" Jack said, letting go reluctantly, and stepping away. Gwen watched him for a few moments, as if sizing him up. He crossed his arms, steeling himself for the truth, whatever it was; Gwen grinned.

"Not quite," she said gently.

"That would be me, actually," a voice said from Jack's left, echoing in the dark, and he froze.

"Tosh," he whispered, half-afraid saying it aloud might make her disappear.

"Me, as well." Owen chimed in as he and Toshiko materialized, whole and by all appearances, healthy. Owen's arm rested comfortably around her shoulders, and Toshiko was glowing. Literally.

"You two─," Jack started almost awkwardly. It hadn't been a subject he'd felt comfortable broaching when they were alive. The romantic inclinations of subordinates with whom he wasn't sleeping had seemed off limits. But now, seeing them together and glowing, it seemed pointless to avoid the awkward questions. "You're together. As in happily-ever-after?"

"Well, that's nice thing about eternity; you've got time to do those things that you never got around to," Toshiko said, her eyes lingering on Owen's face before shifting to Jack. "And this," she continued, gesturing around herself widely, "can be as real as you want it to be. You can just float around, slip from place to place and watch everything, or can be yourself."

"Yeah, you can shape things with your mind and memory. Like if you want to relive a beautiful moment, you can go back to it, but filter out what you don't want," Owen explained. "After we died, we finally got our date. We went to a pub, had a pint, then went and saw a movie."

"'Gone With the Wind,'" Tosh said, smiling. "We were in the first audience that ever saw it. It was fantastic."

"As was the shagging afterwards," Owen added.

Toshiko's jaw dropped as she turned and slapped his stomach, but she didn't actually seem angry. She and Owen were happy in a way they'd never been in real life. For a single moment, Jack wasn't just happy for them, he was happy.

For a second. But that's as long as it took for him to remember this was all a dream. It had to be. He wasn't really dead for good, he was just dreaming and in a moment, he'd wake up again.

"This can't be real, because I can't be dead," Jack said. "The Doctor said I was a fixed point in time, that I was eternal. I'm just seeing things and in a few minutes, everything'll be back the way it was. And once again, you'll just be memories I try damn hard not to think about."

"You know that's not true, Jack," Gwen said kindly. "You can feel it how real this is, can't you? Once you're a proper part of time, you can see everything, and you'll realize that for all the Doctor knew, for all he saw, he couldn't see everything. Even he was bound by his lifespan, and to him, you seemed eternal. But in the grand scheme of it all, even you're only temporary."

"You're not real– none of this is real!" Jack exclaimed. Because it just couldn't be. After death, there was nothing; no happy reunions, no sad reunions. No second chances, no devils with pitchforks or angels with harps. Just darkness, and if you were Suzy... something that moved in that darkness. "Just let me go, let me wake up or fade away, whatever comes next."

"If we do that, then you'll just drift in the dark forever. Energy can't die; it has to go somewhere. I promise you this is all very real, husband."

All but shaking with rage and hope, Jack turned. It was S'tlakrantala, his wife, a teacher from Thexrlntrnk III with and quick mind and a wicked sense of humour. She was tall and thin with soft lavender skin and wide, dark eyes, and looked the same as when he'd first seen her. She was standing there, smiling at him, her purple scalp tentacles curling with joy.

"Weren't you supposed to wait, or was there a change in plan and I didn't get the memo?" Gwen huffed, crossing her arms.

S'tlakrantala's smile widened as she rolled all three of her eyes. "You know, Gwen, you're suddenly rather uptight for a ghost."
　
"You can say that again," Rhys muttered, only to get smacked. S'tlakrantala laughed brightly, but quickly leveled her sternest lecturing expression at Jack.

"Energy can't end. Correct?"

"Correct,” he sighed.

"So where would the energy go after death?" she asked, as if leading an especially slow pupil. Even if this was an illusion, they had his wife down perfect.

"I don't know."

"And time, is it conscious?"

Jack frowned and thought back to the TARDIS, to how it's heart, that portion of the time vortex, had sensed the Slitheen's wish to have a second chance. It had understood and had made a choice independent of the Doctor, himself, or Rose....

His head and heart started to pound. It couldn't be true. It went against everything he'd known during his life. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tears of frustration, anger and heartache. This wasn't real, and wouldn’t be just because he wished it was. Even if he wished it harder than he'd ever wished anything.

"Life cannot spring from nothing, husband; we that join time are what gives time itself a will," S'tlakrantala said.

Jack opened his eyes. He took in the hopeful gazes of his friends, of his wife, his heart aching.

"Just believe, Jack," Gwen urged in that earnest, wide-eyed way she had, smiling even though there were tears in her eyes. "Please believe us. Believe what your heart tells you."

"Yeah. Besides, you're Captain Jack Harkness," Owen said, shrugging. "If it's a dream, figure out a way to wake up. If we're lying and this is all a trick, you'll figure out a way to stop us, right?"

Jack took a breath. He'd spent most of his life looking darkness in the face. Fighting it, embracing it, sometimes, on a few memorable occasions, defeating it. His lone credo, if he'd had one, would have been a grim truth is far better than a million pretty lies. But after all this time, all the loneliness and unhappiness... maybe this illusion would better than the dark. Maybe just this once, he could give in.

He let the breath out slowly. "Okay. Until I have a compelling reason to believe otherwise, okay."

S'tlakrantala smiled and held her arms open. "There's the starry-eyed optimist I fell in love with," she said, and Jack took another deep breath, before moving forward to sweep her up into his arms, laughing.

"God, Ranna, I missed you," he said, pressing kisses to her cheek as he tried to lose himself to the illusion. It was easy; she smelled and felt real– was everything he remembered and loved.

Ranna's slender arms held him tight. "And I you, husband." She pressed their mouths together, Jack's lips opening against hers as they'd done so many times. Finally, they broke their kiss and Jack set S'tlakrantala back on her feet.

She glanced at Gwen and smiled, then looked back at Jack. "We sent them out to greet you because these people were part of what was really your first real family as an adult, your first home. We thought it best if you saw them first. And the ULOJS unanimously decided to let your half come see you first, but he's just so nervous right now."

"ULOJS? My half?" Jack echoed uncertainly, thinking this'd be about the time the giant alien slug tried to liquefy, then devour him, or some ancient evil from beyond the bounds of space-time tried to subvert him... or some deceptively cute guy in skinny jeans tried to get him to subscribe to The Watchtower. "And those would be– ?"

"My idea. That first one, anyway," Owen said smugly. "United League of Jack's Spouses. It's catchy. I also coined ULOJO: the United League of Jack's Offspring. Tried organizing a sports league, but I was never able to get choices narrowed down to less than 30 sports. Too many alien species in there. Would it have killed you to teach them all footie? No, it wouldn't have!"

"Owen even started a betting pool on what species your next spouse would be," Toshiko added cheekily.

"So everyone, all of them..." Jack started, trying and not quite managing to wrap his mind around not only all his spouses, but all his children. Here.

S'tlakrantala smiled and rested one clawed hand Jack's cheek. "All of us."

A small light blinked, then grew into a cloud of golden light that surged forward, warm as it swirled around him. He could feel them, he could see their faces together, happy despite the ages that had passed since he'd last seen them. He was surprised at the welling of love and home that attended each and every one.

Hundreds of voices spoke as one, yet each voice distinguishable, as though Jack were able to divide himself in hundreds of beings at once. Each voice was audible as they greeted him, calling him "husband" and "Father" in numerous languages. The greetings wrapped around him, pulling him to each of his children. It took him hours to hug them all, to hear their voices and answer their questions.

All of them, they'd grown and absorbed the knowledge of time until they finally understood their strange father. This was most evident when Alice and Steven simply smiled and hugged him. Alice whispered her forgiveness to him while Steven finally called him "Grandfather."

He couldn't imagine an illusion or dream that felt so real– so surreal. That was rich with so much detail. Even if it was all just some impossibly complex illusion, Jack realized he really didn't care. This illusion could be enough. He didn't care how it fit into objective reality as long as he could stay....

Eventually, his children and grandchildren pulled away, fading as he returned to Gwen, Toshiko, Owen, Rhys and Ranna. And despite having just listened to countless conversations, some lasting for years, he knew it had only been seconds. He'd somehow been everywhere at once, and with sudden clarity and firm understanding, Jack knew: it was real, it had to be. Joy, pure joy unfettered by sadness or cynicism, lit up almost every dark corner of his soul, reaching into the parts that were shaded with pain and heartache.

He laughed, feeling light and happy for the first time in ages. "So, what did you mean by 'my half'? Do I have a devilishly handsome twin somewhere?" he asked, grinning widely. He could recall exactly where he'd left off with them, with his first family, and knew that if he wanted to, he could also be in a diner at the end of the universe eating a burger and drinking a malted.

"Not quite, husband," S'tlakrantala said, glancing again at Gwen, who nodded. "We mean the one that you loved more than all of us. The half of your soul that I never was, that none of us could never be."

"No, I loved you; I still love you, Ranna," Jack promised. "I loved you all– still do. I remember your names, your faces. I've never forgotten any of you."

"We know that. None of us ever doubted it; you made sure of that," S'tlakrantala smiled. "But there was part of you that none of us could ever touch, a part of you that was locked away."

Jack's eyes fluttered closed as he faced the last dark corner of himself, the part that he'd closed off just so he could get out of bed each day. He opened his mouth and said the one name he only uttered in his mind in the dark of night, when he was completely alone.

"Ianto Jones."

"Oi, finally. Give the man a prize," Owen muttered.

Jack opened his eyes, looking around for the beloved face, or a new point of light to expand into warmth and familiarity and love. "Ianto’s here?" he whispered, his voice thick, eyes darting everywhere. "He's– what am I saying? Of course he's here, but I just... I didn't ever think...."

He swallowed, his throat tight. "Ianto?" he asked, and a moment later, a hand tentatively settled on his shoulder. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and drew a shuddering breath.

"Jack."

Without realizing it, he smiled, then started laughing again, Jack turned and pulled Ianto into his arms. He squeezed Ianto tightly and pressed his face against Ianto's throat, breathing against the fabric of the neatly pressed shirt. Ianto stroked his back gently, and it was a long time before Jack could pull himself away. But only enough to look into Ianto's eyes, and cup his face.

"I have missed you so much," Jack said roughly, his thumbs gently tracing Ianto's lips. "And I loved you. I never told you, not really, but I did. I loved you, and I still love you. I never stopped."

Ianto smiled bashfully, but spoke with certainty, his hand resting lightly on Jack's waist. "I know."

Jack kissed him, and despite the passage of time, Ianto felt the same, tasted the same. His mouth familiar territory Jack was eager to reclaim, retrace and refamiliarize himself with, trying to express every unspoken endearment and declaration. A low moan started deep within Ianto's chest, and Jack felt himself burning from the inside out.

"Okay, you do know you've got forever, right? So you don't need to shag in front of us," Rhys finally said.

"Oh, I don't mind so much," Toshiko and Owen said at the same time, then smiled fondly at each other.

S'tlakrantala laughed, the sound as sweet and musical as it had ever been, and Jack and Ianto reluctantly parted.

"Rhys has a point, you know. I'm not going away again, Jack," Ianto said, a wicked smile curving his lips. "I'm not going to let you out of bed for six eternities, let alone out of my sight."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut again and rested his forehead against Ianto's. He drew in another shaky breath and tried to contain himself. Ranna had been right; he'd loved every one of his spouses, but Ianto still held a special part of his soul that Jack had tried to ignore, and mostly managed to bury. But all that, it seemed, was finally over.

"So what now?" Jack asked, straightening and turning to the rest of the group, but not letting go of Ianto. Not for a moment.

Owen grinned. "Go into the light, Jack, go into the light," he said dramatically.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. Ahead of him, he saw a small point of light, and from it emerged the voices of children and friends and spouses whispering his name in a chorus of welcome.

He held tightly to Ianto's hand, S'tlakrantala's hand on his shoulder as he walked forward. The closer he got to that point of light, the louder the voices became. Cries of laughter and songs were sung in countless languages by countless voices. It was a cacophony that somehow melded together like a song.

And then he was there. He was in time, a part of it, joined to everything, everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching as galaxies formed and ended and stars imploded, alongside his family and friends. He was connected to life itself, and for the first time in his life, he felt no sadness or loneliness, just joy.

"Oh, by the way, Jack, the real Captain Jack Harkness has a few things to say to you," Ianto said. "You know, for a man who died a virgin to gay sex, he's amazing in bed."

Finally.

My First Star Trek 2009 Fic: "Enterprise Dog Park" CRACK!DOG!AU

2009-10-28T03:42:34Z

Title: Enterprise Dog Park
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Pairings: None, really. Though there are references forMcCoy/Chekov (McChekov? Chekoy? McChek? McCov?)
Rating/Warnings: Teen for references to animal abuse. And for the fact that this is a total crack AU where they’re almost all dogs.
Summary: “Leonard may have been a stupidnogoodbad dog, but he understood what the other dogs didn't.?
Spoilers: None aside from character traits.
Disclaimer: I so totally own these works. Bow Down! *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership toward Star Trek are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
Dedication: This is written for my darling _beetle_. I love you dear!!!!
Beta: *is embarrassed* _beetle_ Yep, she beta’d a fic I wrote for her. But in my defense, I wasn’t actually going to post it. But she liked it, so I sort just agreed.

* * * * * * * * *

Leonard may have been a stupidnogoodbad dog, but he understood what the other dogs didn't. He knew that when dogs were in the cages for a long time and no one wanted to take them home, those dogs would disappear.

After they disappeared, the humans that took care of them would come back, sad, and clean out the empty cage.

Leonard also knew someday, he would be the dog that disappeared.

When people would come in to look at the dogs, they didn't spend much time looking at him. He was an unsociable, grouchy bloodhound with a tear in his ear and scars on his coat. He was so nervous around humans that he tended to avoid them. So while Leonard may have been a stupidnogoodbad dog, he was smart enough to know he just wasn't what families were looking for.

One day, Leonard heard the main door open, and looked up from where he was curled in the corner of his cage. A human female with light head fur (hair, he reminded himself. They call it hair) walked in and began strolling up the row of cages, looking at the dogs. As she stopped to coo at the puppies, Leonard curled in on himself and tried to sleep. She wouldn't be bothering with him.

* * * * * *
Leonard wasn't sure what happened, but somehow, the human had become his human.

She'd walked into his cage, talking to him in a soft, calming voice, and before he knew it, she was scratching his ears in just the right place. Two hours later, he was sitting in the back seat of her car, getting farther and farther from the cages. The car kept stopping and going, stopping and going, slowly heading out to where it was quieter and he could see more trees. The air smelled so good, like lots of people, cars, trees, flowers and all kinds of food. He stuck his nose out the small opening in the window, and when he started to snuffle and sneeze, his human laughed. Her scent was a combination of flowers and the clean-smell that came after it rained, and it was warm with happiness and affection.

They drove and drove until they reached a house and his human stopped the car. Once they got out of the car, Leonard could barely contain his excitement; his tail was wagging fast enough to shake his entire body. His human laughed again and took his leash, leading him through a gate in the fence and up the front steps of the house.

"Gaila! We're here!" his human called when she opened the door.

Leonard cocked his head; there were two scents inside, his human's scent and another human. The other human appeared almost immediately, smiling. She had curly dark hair, and her scent was a bright and inviting combination of human musk, chocolate, and electricity, overlaid with joy. But he lowered his head and tucked his tail, trying to make himself smaller. What if she wasn't as nice as she smelled? What if she didn't like him and made his human return him to the cages?

"What a handsome guy you are!" Gaila said, crouching in front of him. "Don't worry, sweetie, I won't hurt you."

She slowly reached out and started scratching behind his ears. And though she must have been crazy, calling him handsome, she gave some of the best ear scratches he'd ever had. Leonard wondered: if she lived in the house and his human lived in the house, did that mean he had… two humans?

"Oh Christine, he's so adorable! So big and sweet! You definitely picked out a good boy for us," Gaila said, looking up Christine, her scent changing, becoming fonder.

Us. So he did have two humans! Leonard's tail started wagging again. Taking a chance, he licked at Gaila's hand; she smiled and took the leash off.

"Come on, Leonard," Christine said, giving his ears another good round of scratching. Leonard was sure that he'd never been scratched so much or so well in his entire life as he had in the past couple of hours. "Let's go get you some food."

* * * * * *
The next morning, Leonard woke up confused. He was in a soft bed in quiet room that smelled nice and there were no other dogs.

He stood, stretched, and took a good long sniff. The two most prominent scents were familiar, and his memory returned.

He'd been chosen and now he had two humans of his own, two wonderful humans who gave the best ear scratches and belly rubs.

His tail was wagging even more than it had when he was a puppy─ though his tail hadn't wagged very much even then. He walked over to the bed where Christine and Gaila slept, wrapped around each other and surrounded by the scent of happiness. Then he walked around the room, making sure nothing had changed and that his humans were safe.

Once he'd made sure of that, he nosed his way out of the slightly open bedroom door and explored his new home. There were many other rooms and he turned up many interesting things, upstairs and down. But by the time he was done, Leonard was certain of two things: there were no other people in the house, and nothing here could hurt his humans.

Temporarily satisfied that his humans were safe, he went into the kitchen and out the small door (Gaila said it was his door!) in the big door.

When he'd gotten to the house yesterday, it had made him happy to see all the nice things his humans had for him. There were big, warm beds for him in the kitchen, the bedroom, and the room with the noisy picture box. There was a place in the kitchen with a water bowl and his food bowl, and the food bowl had been filled with the best food he'd ever had. Gaila had said it was "organic." Leonard didn't know that word, but figured it must mean tasty.

The yard outside was surrounded by a tall fence, but Leonard hadn't spent much time in it the night before. Christine and Gaila had taken him on a walk around the houses nearby. Leonard had paid close attention and had learned that his house was surrounded by other houses. Each side of the fence was against another yard, and there were even other yards against the corners. Each yard smelled like a different dog, or dogs, but none of the dog-scents was bigger than the green scent of outside.

It was all very strange, and very different from his first house… a small, cramped place with a tiny dirt yard, filled with broken pieces of metal and junk. The area had been loud, with lots of cars and yelling. There had been three other dogs, two bulldogs and one rottweiler, but they'd been a lot meaner than Leonard─ and they'd disappeared right away after they'd all been brought to the cages.

Leonard hadn’t liked the cages. They were too noisy and smelly with the scent of too many dogs. It was so bad that Leonard had thought he'd go crazy… but he'd gotten used to the stench and noise of the cages. And at least in the cages, they hadn’t put him outside or hurt him, and he never had to go hungry. But he’d lived there for so long, that he'd stopped noticing how much he hated it, and had forgotten how it good it was to be an outside-dog.

After doing his business by a shrub and marking the trees, Leonard walked along the fence and sniffed. As he approached the back fence, he saw digging. Big paws were digging out the dirt, making a hole under the fence, and as the hole grew, the scent of another dog overlaid with dust, dirt and curiosity whuffed through. Leonard moved closer cautiously and used his mean growl.

"Oi, who's that, then?" the dog on the other side asked; his voice sounded strange.

"Stop digging. This isn't your yard and you can't come in," Leonard barked.

"Well fine, then! I dinna even want t' come into yer yard!"

"Then why are you digging?"

"Because it's m' job to know what's what 'round here.”

Leonard tossed his head silently. This dog sounded like an overgrown pup, eager and curious… and unlikely to hurt Leonard's humans. But that certainly didn't mean he belonged in Leonard's yard.

"Well, stop digging! You're messing up my humans' yard!" Leonard barked. He had a deep, loud voice, and that was why he didn't like to use it. Barking too loud made humans mad, and when humans were mad, they hit him. But in this case, he'd risk being hit to keep this dog out of the yard.

"Aye, alright then, alright. Keenser! Where are ya, ye wee mutt? Keenser! Get down from there! Good, now get under there and have a look at 'im fer me!"

Two small, dark paws appeared under the fence, followed by a wriggling body. Leonard backed up, watching as a small, dark, fluffy dog squeezed under the fence.

"I'm Keenser," the dog said evenly, his stance neither timid nor challenging. "That's Scotty."

"Dinna chit-chat with him! Tell me what he looks like!" Scotty demanded, sounding and smelling of frustration, all the while his feet moving as he paced on the other side of the fence.

"He's lighter colored than me. And big."

Scotty stopped, a bit of fear mixing with his scent of curiosity.

"How big is big?" he asked, his voice suddenly a bit timid.

Keenser tilted his head to the side, studying Leonard. It made Leonard uncomfortable the last thing he need was for some dog to start blabbing to all the dogs, telling them about the new stupidnogoodbad and ugly dog in the neighborhood.

"Bigger than you, smaller than Spock," Keenser said matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Well . . . it's nice ta meet ya, then!" Scotty said, his voice squeaking as the fear scent intensified. "What's yer name, fella?"

"Hey, Scotty! What's happening?" a new voice asked. This voice was coming from one of the side yards, and with it brought the smell of food, human sweat, and... cheese and tomatoes?

"Oi, Jimmy! There's a new dog!"

"Really? Oh, that's awesome! Hi, new dog! How are you? Do you like pizza? I love pizza, it's so good!"

Leonard didn't answer─ couldn't, even if he'd wanted to. He wasn't used to talking with other dogs, and he certainly didn't know what pizza was.

Scotty whined. "Aw, Jimmy, you lucky mutt! Pike's lady has him on a diet─ he doesn't eat pizza anymore, just vegetables," he grumbled. "Not a single sandwich in sight!"

Then another dog started to speak with a deep voice, coming from the other side of the yard.

"Jim and Scotty, cease your yipping. Uhura and our humans are still asleep."

"Aw, c'mon Spock, there's a new dog! Aren't you excited?" Jim wheedled.

Leonard slowly began backing up toward the house; it was getting loud outside with all the barking, and he didn't like loud. When dogs were loud, he got in trouble; even if he wasn’t the one making the noise.

Keenser cocked his head to the side and watched as he backed away. Leonard didn't know what kind of dog Keenser was, but he could probably smell Leonard's fear. But all he did was watch Leonard a bit more, then wriggle back under the fence and into his own yard.

"You all are please to be being quiet now, thank you," yet another dog said. This one sounded strange, too, and was barking loudly in order to be heard over the other voices. This one smelled like strange food (cabbage? he mused) as well as sausage and sweets. "My little hoomans are being asleep now!"

It was all just too loud, and Leonard knows from experience the hurt that followed when dogs got too loud. With a high whine, he scrambled though his dog door back into the house. Maybe if he went back upstairs and laid in his bed, his humans wouldn't know he'd been barking, too. Maybe they wouldn't be mad at him.

* * * * * *

His humans didn't get mad at him.

Apparently, the dogs did this every morning, so while his humans weren't happy about it, they weren't mad. Later, Christine left the house, saying she had to go to work. But before she left, she'd scrunched up her mouth and pressed it against Gaila's. They started to make sounds like their tummy's ached, and then Gaila had licked Christine! Leonard grunted, curious; he'd never seem humans do that.

Christine had then crouched down by Leonard, her lips scrunched and aimed for his forehead. With a whuff, Leonard had followed Gaila's example and licked her mouth.

"Eew, I'm so glad I got the first kiss!" Gaila's face had scrunched up again.

So for a few hours, Leonard had played with his new squeaky toys before taking a nap. When he woke up, he was bored. He started sniffing, looking for Gaila. He followed her scent to a door in the kitchen, but couldn't hear her or get to her.

Worried, he paced and stared at the door. What if his human was hurt? She didn't smell hurt, but ... what if she was? He could scratch at the door, but that was bad, and when he'd been bad before, he'd been tied up outside in the cold without food. Leonard whined. Then, much to his relief, he heard walking. The door opened, revealing a room with lots of steps that went down instead of up.

"Hi, Leonard. Did you miss me?" she asked. She smelled like electricity again, but she didn't smell mad. She smelled... pleased. Leonard just moved closer and pushed his head against her hands. "Well, it's work time, but you can sit down here with me if you're good."

Leonard followed her down the stairs, and when they reached the bottom, he saw boxes with blinking lights, and small, skinny boxes that looked like tiny, noisy picture boxes. The room would have been dark, but there were lots of lights and plants and storage boxes.

Gaila pulled a big fluffy something out of a box and laid it on the floor. "Here you go, Len. You can keep an eye on me while I'm fixing computers, okay? And then we'll go for a walk to the dog park."

Leonard wagged his tail. He liked walks.

* * * * * *

Later that day, Gaila put him on a leash, grabbed a ball, and together, they left the house. It was a very nice walk, going up to the top of a hill. At the very top was a large grassy place surrounded by a fence. He could hear so many dogs barking and yipping, along with children shouting and people talking. And the smell... he could smell rain in the air, different kinds of dogs, the sweat of humans, the green, green smell of trees and grass… so many things.

"Here we are, Len, Enterprise Dog Park, the best dog park in San Francisco!" Gaila announced. She looked very pleased with herself, and smelled excited. Leonard just stared. He wasn't too sure about this dog park thing. Yeah, the park was nice, with trees and lots of room to run. But there were also a lot of dogs, more scents than he could memorize in a whole day, it seemed like.

Gaila walked inside, Leonard following faithfully at her heels. But when she unleashed him, he didn't bound off to meet the other dogs. He couldn't imagine anything he wanted to do less. Well, aside from going back to the cages. Or his first home. He knew the other dogs probably wouldn't like him, and even if they did… if he left Gaila, he wouldn't be there to protect her if she needed it.

"What's wrong, Len?" Gaila asked, sitting on a bench. Leonard rested his head on her knee, groaning, giving her his biggest, saddest eyes. Almost instantly, she smelled like she understood─ but not like she was annoyed with him. "Too many dogs?"

Leonard sighed, and curled up at her feet. Almost on them, and she laughed, scratching behind his ears. "That's okay, buddy. We can sit here if you want."

Several dogs paraded by, staring at him with friendly, curious; but Leonard refused to leave Gaila's side. Eventually the park began to empty. Once the noise wasn't so loud, Leonard got up and walked circles around Gaila. His circles got wider and wider until he was half-way across the park. Gaila tossed the ball, and Leonard chased it down before returning it to her. But then Gaila threw it again, so Leonard ran to get the ball. After she threw it two more times, Leonard realized it was a game. The game was fun, and they played for a long time.

All the while, a spaniel with short hair and dark spots had watched. Leonard hadn't bothered trying to sort this dog's scent out from all the other scents in the park. And though the other dog's attention had made him slightly anxious at first, when nothing else happened, Leonard simply forgot him.

Eventually, Leonard tired. He walked back over Gaila and slumped down at her feet, content. Once Leonard’s caught his breath, the spaniel finally stood up and approached slowly, holding something in his mouth. As he got closer, Leonard raised his head, a warning growl rumbling low in his chest.

But the spaniel didn't seem afraid─ didn't even slow down at Leonard's terse, menacing bark. He stopped quite close to the bench, and dropped his burden at Leonard's feet.

It was dog treat in the shape of a bone.

"Hello!" the spaniel said, his tail wagging excitedly. "You are ze new dog and I have come velcome you to our neighborhood! My treat is for you!"

Leonard stared; he recognized the voice. He sniffed hard, discovering that he knew this scent, too. It was cabbage, sausage and sweets. This dog looked like he was barely weaned, and smelled that way, too.

"I am Pavel," the spaniel continued, clearly wanting to move closer and get a good whiff, too, but restraining himself. His tail was wagging faster than ever, though. "I have come here with my hoomans, from Russia. Who are you?"

The pup─ Pavel, looked at Leonard with such a sweet, hopeful gaze that he found himself unable to keep silent.

"I'm Leonard."

"Leonid? Zat is Russian name!" Pavel yipped, dancing excitedly.

Leonard cocked his head. "Well, I don't know about that," he said.

"Yes, it is! You must be Russian too!"

"I'm pretty sure bloodhounds don't come from Russia," Leonard sighed, though he knew it'd do no good. Pavel seemed to be the sort that didn't get discouraged easily. Or ever.

Across the park, a tall, broad-shouldered man whistled loudly before calling out in a language Leonard didn't know, and Pavel's ears perked up.

"Oh, I must to be going now! Papa Rozhenko and I must go home so Mama Rozhenko and I can fetch the little hoomans from their school." Pavel trotted off, then stopped and ran back. "I vill see you here tomorrow, yes?"

"I dunno." Guess so," Leonard rumbled in a way that was meant to be discouraging, but probably wasn't. Definitely wasn't, he decided, since Pavel bounced up in the air and yipped excitedly before moving closer and nuzzling Leonard's muzzle─

─then he raced off, still yipping.

Stunned, Leonard watched as Pavel was placed on a leash and led out of the park. He kept looking back and wagging his tail until he and his human were out of sight.

But Pavel's scent lingered, and Leonard made sure to remember it. Not that he'd ever forget it, now. And upon reflection, he decided that the smell of cabbage was kind of… nice, after a while.

"Aw, looks like someone made a friend," Gaila said, scratching his ears, and Leonard started. He'd forgotten she was even there. But since there was scratching in the offing, he arched up to show how very much he appreciated it, and Gaila laughed. Her scent was bright and light with affection and approval, and….

Maybe this dog park thing wouldn't be too bad, Leonard thought cautiously, settling back at her feet. He nosed the dog treat Pavel had brought him for a good long time. It smelled delicious, like a mix of meat and dog food.

He carried it all the way home.

* * * * *
For those interested, here is the breed info:

Bones: Bloodhound, 90 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/bloodhound.htm
Jim: English Foxhound, 65 lbs http://dogbreedinfo.com/englishfoxhound.htm
Chekov: Russian Spaniel, 28 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/russianspaniel.htm
Scotty: Scottish Deerhound, 75 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/scottishdeerhound.htm
Keenser: Schipperke, 12 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/schipperke.htm
Uhura: Field Spaniel, 35 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/fieldspaniel.htm
Spock: Great Dane, 120 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/greatdane.htm
Sulu: Akita Inu, 75 lbs http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/a/akitainu.htm

Good Crack Sports Commericals

2009-10-25T06:43:21Z

So, my husband is all about the San Jose Sharks, and the local sports network shows almost all of their games, so some of the Sharks do commercials. They're pretty crack, but they amuse the fuck out of me. So I share with you.

The one features Joe Thornton. People tell me he's one of the best players in the NHL (a fact I have no frickin' clue about).

This one features the head coach, Todd McLellan.

And this one is the newest, featuring Joe Pavelski.

Supernatural Crossover Series: 5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated, #5

2009-10-25T02:55:29Z

Title: Ice Cold
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: BtVS/Harry Potter
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Connor Reilly, hints of Dean Winchester/Illyria
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap the owners; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or Angel the Series are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
A/N: Okay, so I read a couple of stories showing Sam in love with various other characters. But what if he'd fallen for them while in Stanford? How would that have changed the night of the demon's return?
Betas: anxiety_junkie and _beetle_. Thanks a million, you two!
All parts are HERE</a> in my memories

* * * * * * * * * *

The Impala roared through the streets of Palo Alto, Sam's apartment only two blocks away. It was late and the city was enveloped in the quiet hush of a Sunday night.

"So Sam; I got a question about your boy," Dean said, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just don't, Dean, okay?"

Dean shot his brother an innocent look as they stopped at an intersection.

"What? I wasn't going to ask anything weird. I mean, you're my bother; I don't wanna know about your kinky sex games."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled.

Dean laughed and shook his head.

"Really, no sex questions. I just want to know where your boy toy learned to fight all 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Boyfriend' style," he said, pulling the Impala into the parking lot of the building. Dean turned off the car.

"Connor said he studied martial arts when he was younger, that's all," Sam said.

"Really? Because those were some killer moves. You sure he's not a hunter?"

Sam shook his head, then got out of the car, pulling his bag from the back seat. "I'm pretty sure. I mean, one of his oldest friends lives next door, and she's definitely not hunter material," Sam explained.

"The skinny babe that came in after Connor got all ninja on my ass?"

"Yeah, that's her. She's a physicist."

"Ooh, brainy and hot; nice," Dean said, smiling lecherously. "Brainy chicks are always the kinky ones."

Sam winced. "Stop it, man, I don't want to think of Fred like that."

"Fred?"

"Yeah, it's short for Winifred."

"Huh." He grinned. "Bet I could get her number."

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean grinned, before falling silent. The quiet stretched out until Sam finally cleared his throat. "You’ll call me if you find him?"

Dean nodded.

"Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, all right."

Sam turned away from his brother and headed toward the building's entrance.

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah, we did." Sam nodded, and the two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. The silence that was suddenly broken by a loud shattering of glass. Dean and Sam looked up.

From the broken window of Sam's apartment, two bodies fell amid a shining rain of glass. They landed on the ground, hard, one of them immediately rolling to his feet. Standing on the ground in a fighting stance, clad only in pajama bottoms and carrying a large sword, was Connor.

Sam's eyes bugged out.

"Connor?" he squeaked.

"Holy shit, that had to hurt," Dean muttered, stunned, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

The other man rose to his feet, a knife protruding from his shoulder. He turned and grinned at Sam and Dean, eyes flashing yellow.

"Fuck, it's him!" Dean cursed, pulling his gun out.

"Well, well, well; looks like young Sam's squeeze is a little more than human," the demon rasped, grinning.

He looked down at his shoulder and tugged on the knife. It didn't move. He looked back up at Connor, glaring.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get a chance to mention this, but that knife isn't going anywhere and neither are you. It's like a supernatural nail," Connor explained. "You're trapped in that body."

The demon frowned before tugging on it again.

"It's not coming out," Connor said. "I may not know how to kill your kind, but you aren't the first possessive creature I've had to keep in place."

Connor moved forward, expertly twirling and swinging the massive sword with ease.

"See Sammy, I told you he's a hunter," Dean whispered victoriously. He then yelped when Sam stomped on his foot.

"Now really isn't the time, Dean!"

"You think I'm worried?" the demon asked, a slow, easy grin spreading across his face. "You have no notion of my strength or what I'm capable of, hunter."

Connor rolled his eyes. "One: I'm not a hunter. And two: I'm not the one you should be afraid of."

"Then enlighten me, little boy . . . what meat sack hunter's supposed to scare me?" The demon scoffed, its confidence back, his smile growing.

The building's front door slammed open and a thin brunette with a cold, dead gaze strode out purposefully. The door behind her stuck the wall with immense force, cracking the wall behind it before breaking and falling from its hinges.

"Her," Connor smirked and with a careless air, raised his sword and rested it on his shoulder. "I may not know how to kill you, but she will."

"Fred?" Sam asked, his eyes wide. He blinked. "He should fear Fred," he repeated, his voice higher. "He should fear Fred?!"

"Dude, she wasn't that scary looking two days ago," Dean muttered.

"Well, she doesn't usually break down doors, either," Sam replied with a hysteria-tinged chuckle.

The demon laughed. "Her? I should fear her?"

Fred lifted her chin. She stalked forward, no hesitation or fear in her steps. "I ruled this world before the first of you kind was shaped. True demons, not the desperate shadows of which you claim lordship, cowered before me in terror and adoration, worshiping me," Fred ground out in a monotone voice, a sneer twisting her mouth.

Before their eyes, her appearance seemed to melt, hair and skin fading to a pale blue while her clothing transformed into leathery body armor. She stopped in front of the demon.

"What are you?" Dean asked.

"I am Illyria, God King of the Primordium," she announced, head raised proudly.

The demon's eyes widened in shock, before they narrowed.

"Well, now, maybe you were. But now you're just a has-been trapped in over-cooked meat, weak," the demon said, its taunts at odds with the way it was slowly backing away from her.

Illyria cocked her head to the side, observing the demon with almost clinical detachment. "I am diminished in this shell, but I still carry far more power than your pathetic kind. Unlike you, I cannot be banished by the mere religious bleating of a human."

"'Bleating?' Dude, did she just compare us to sheep?" Dean demanded.

"Hey, it's better than what she usually calls us," Connor said with a shrug.

Sam just stared, his gaze jumping from his suddenly super-strong, sword-wielding boyfriend to their apparently demon-god neighbor, watching in stunned quiet. How in the hell had missed this? He was drawn out of his internal freak-out by Illyria's movement.

Illyria struck quickly, placing her hand on the demon's chest. Her fingers dug into the flesh over the demon's heart and blood began to drip down its shirt. With her other hand, she ripped the knife out of the demon's shoulder, a large piece of the surrounding flesh tearing out with the blade.

"What the hell?" Dean yelled.

The demon grinned and opened its mouth, but before it could flee, Illyria dropped the knife and slanted her mouth over the demon's in a strange parody of a kiss. The demon’s black essence surged out against her mouth, but a blue mist began to flow out of her, forcing the demon back down inside of its host. The blue mist continued pushing inside of the demon, pushing down and into the demon's body. Sam and Dean could only watch in horror as the yellow of the demon's eyes faded, its body shaking as it let out a muffled scream.

Illyria moved her head away form his and the blue mist flowed back into her. The demon's black essence flowed out and again tried to flee, but it was now entwined and trapped by thin lines of blue that crossed back and forth over the demon's essence, stretching the black smoke between their mouths. A low rumble started deep within Illyria's chest, and a dark blue light shot out of Illyria's mouth and traveled traveled out toward the demon. A high pitched shriek sounded, and the demon's essence burned away in blue flames, the body glowing blue as it was burned from the inside out. Illyria inhaled, pulling the last of the blue mist into herself before closing her mouth and dropping the demon's body.

"Pathetic. A demonic essence is as easily destroyed as a soul." Illyria turned and faced Connor. "Are you injured?"

Connor studied her for a short time, then sighed. "What did you take?"

"Take?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she always takes trophies. Since she hasn't tried to cut the head off of the body, she must have taken something from the demon."

Illyria cocked her head to the side, then lifted her hand. The demon's dead host was raised into the air before she lowered her hand, dropping the body. She then waved her hand and a ball of fire shot out, engulfing it in flames. Within moments, the corpse had been reduced to ash.

"This weekend just keeps on getting freakier and freakier," Dean muttered. "Okay, I've got questions and you'd better have answers."

"Said the pot to kettle," Connor said. He looked over at Sam, who looked confused and hurt. "Yeah, fine, we need to talk. But we should probably head inside first."

The group moved quickly, and once in the apartment, Sam dropped onto the couch, his face still slack with shock. Illyria stood at the door, practically at parade rest, while Connor dropped into the desk chair.

Dean paced, dragging his hands down his face before speaking. "First of all, even if Ol' Yellow Eyes hadn't said something, most people can't fall out a third story window like it's no big deal. Add in the fact that he just happened to have a knife to nail a demon into its host? I don't know what you are, man, but you sure as hell ain't normal," Dean pointed out. "And don't even get me started on Illfredia over there."

"You will address me by my proper title," Illyria commanded, turning that eerie blue gaze on Dean.

Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm human, really. I just have vampires for parents, so I heal like them, and I have their strength and speed. It gives me extra supernatural protections, you could say. When the demon tried to use telekinesis on me, it didn't work. But I have a soul and I age. I'm just human plus," he explained, eying Sam nervously.

"I have questions as well." Illyria's cold gaze ticked to Sam, her eyes penetrating. Sam wished she looked like Fred again. "The demon knew of you, but not of Connor. Thus while Connor was the target, the attack was obviously a strike against you. Explain."

Sam glanced at his brother.

Dean threw his hands in the air. "Fuck, I don't know, Sammy. I mean, yeah, they know about demons and stuff, but hell, I just don't know. It's up to you."

Sam looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. In his mind, he reviewed everything he knew, everything he'd seen, before finally deciding. "It killed my Mom when I was a baby, and our Dad has been hunting it ever since. He raised us as hunters, moving from town to town, hunting until I left for school. But I don't know why it came here; it's been over twenty years since Mom. I guess it just wanted revenge against Dad or something, I don't know," Sam answered. "I'm so sorry, Con."

Connor frowned, shaking his head. "Don't tell me you knew that thing was coming after me?"

"Not . . . exactly. I had a dream where he," Sam paused, squeezing his eyes shut as the images of Connor dying flashed through his mind. "I had a dream where he killed you, burned you alive, but I just thought it was a dream; a nightmare."

Connor stared. "A nightmare. You have prophetic dreams a lot?"

Sam shook his head. "First time."

Connor sighed deeply. "Fuck, we'll deal with that later. I'm not sure what think of that, but all the crazy shit I've been hiding from you." Connor trailed off with a shrug.

"Wait, you're not hiding anything else, are you?" Dean chimed in, falling silent when three people turned to glare at him

Then Sam looked back at Connor, whose eyes had suddenly dropped to the floor. "You're mad at me about the secrets I've kept and there's more you haven't told me?"
"I was raised in a hell dimension, came back kind of psychotic, tried to kill my birth-father, had my memories erased so I could have a normal life, and my closest friend is an ancient demon god who swore an oath to watch over me." Connor winced, suddenly realizing how large his glass house was compared to Sam's. "Just, well, we've both been lying our asses off, so I really don't think we should be playing the who's-the-bigger-liar game," Connor finished in an anxious rush.

"Well there's no need to play when it's obvious who the winner's gonna be. Hunter childhood versus a demon god best friend, wiped memories and vampire parents? No contest, man." This time, only Connor glared at Dean, who grinned right back. "But I will admit, Sammy; your boy's a badass. I guess this really does make you the girl in the relationship."

"Oh, shut up, Dean." Sam clasped his hands together, twisting his fingers until they were white. The two lovers looked at each other, neither one moving, both of them guilty. Sam didn't know if their relationship could be salvaged, if they could move past all of the lies. But God, he loved Connor, loved his smile, his lips, his laugh, his sense of humor....

"Cease your pathetic posturing," Illyria finally said. "Your bodies warm for one another, so leave my sight and copulate."

"I second that. Not the sex part, but you guys are obviously stupid for each other. And now you've get everything out in the open, so stop with the shy guy acts and kiss and make up," Dean added gruffly, a little uncomfortable. There were some things no big brother wanted to know about or discuss.

Sam blushed before standing and slowly moving closer, eyebrows raised hopefully. Connor visibly relaxed. He stood and met Sam in the middle of their living room.

Reaching out, Sam cupped Connor's face and pulled him close with a gentle kiss. Connor tossed his sword onto the couch, then wrapped one arm around Sam's waist, the other gripping Sam's shoulder as they deepened the kiss. With a soft moan, Sam gripped Connor's hips and pulled their bodies closer together.

Dean cleared his throat. It only served to make Illyria notice him again, and did nothing to stop the man-on-man grope-session.

"Okay, then! I'm gonna go get a hotel room. You guys have fun, and don't forget to choose a safe-word."

"Dean - get out," Sam broke the kiss to order. Connor didn't say anything, merely pulled firmly on Sam's hand and dragged him into the bedroom.

Illyria watched them leave the room, then turned and exited the apartment, Dean following.

Once in the hallway, she turned to face him.

"You, brother of Samuel; your form is no longer warm for my shell as it was on our first meeting." She cocked her head to the side again. "Why is that?"

Dean stared back at her. "First of all, sweetheart, it's Dean. And the truth? You scare my penis."

"Irrelevant. Samuel has mentioned your prowess, and I find myself desiring sexual congress after battle."

"Excuse me?"

"You shall copulate with me," she declared, her armor disappearing and baring her blue-tinged flesh.

Dean stared, eyes riveted to the nude form before him.

"Okay, but only if you go back to not looking so... freaky."

Illyria shifted back to her normal form, sans clothing, and lifted her chin.

"Your terms are acceptable."

THE END.

Supernatural Crossover Series: 5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated, #4

2009-10-23T05:57:06Z

Title: I Put a Spell on You
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: Supernatural/Harry Potter
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Hermione Granger
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap the owners; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or Harry Potter are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
A/N: Okay, so I read a couple of stories showing Sam in love with various other characters. But what if he'd fallen for them while in Stanford? How would that have changed the night of the demon's return?
All parts are HERE in my memories

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean turned into the building's parking lot and stopped his car. The two brother's got out of the car, their good humor dissipating.

Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala, silent.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed.

Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. With one last look at Dean, Sam turned away and went inside.

The weekend had been jarring for him, a return to the life he'd tried to ignore for almost four years. As he entered the apartment, he could hear the water running in the shower. A note lay on the table, notifying him that there was food in the oven. Smiling, he walked over the oven and pulled out a plate. Grabbing a carrot off the dish, he popped it into his mouth before picking up his bag again and heading into the bedroom. Dropping his bag at the foot of the bed, he stared at blankets. The bed looked far too inviting after a weekend trapped in a car and sleeping on crappy motel beds. He fell onto the bed with a contented sigh, shutting his eyes as the sounds of his normal life drifted over him.

A drop of liquid fell on his forehead. Sam's brow furrowed, but didn't open his eyes until a second drop fell. He swiped at the drops with his hand, then studied his fingers. His stomach clenched as he recognized the copper scent and sticky consistency of blood. Terror gripped him as he looked up to see his girlfriend pinned to the ceiling, blood dripping from a deep cut in her stomach. Flames burst to life, circling her body and growing closer

"No!" Sam screamed his hands reaching toward her.

She smiled down at him weakly and Sam could only watch in horror as she clasped her necklace with one hand, and reached out to him with the other.

Dean kicked open the door into the burning apartment, quickly scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of Sam, before finding him the in the bedroom, looking up at his girlfriend's body.

"Sam!" he yelled. Sam didn't look back at him, his eyes glued to the form trapped against the ceiling.

The fire grew, orange flames slowly cutting off Sam's exit. In a split second, Dean recognized the danger Sam was too consumed with panic and fear to see.

"Sam!" he yelled, running forward and grabbing Sam's arm. Sam looked at him before looking back. He couldn't see her anymore, flames covering the ceiling.

"'Mione!" Sam screamed, looking frantically at the ceiling.

Dean pulled forcefully on his brother's arm, dragging him from the apartment. Dean quickly shepherded his brother down the stairs to the parking lot. Moving to the Impala, Sam stared blankly at the asphalt as Dean looking him over for injuries.

"She's gone," Sam whispered dully.

They fell silent as sirens drew closer and more of the building was enveloped in flames.

Dean shook his head before running a hand through his hair. He turned and looked around at the crowd of people who slowly gathered. His eyes were drawn to the figures of two men in nightgowns.

"Stay here Sammy, I'll be back in a minute," he muttered, jogging toward the men.

* * * * * * * * * *

The combined group of family and friends, primarily compose of redheads, sat in the waiting room, nervous. But it was the guy wearing glasses that caught Dean's eyes. He quickly strode toward him, Dean's presence soon drawing the attention of most of the group.

"Hey, glasses!" he called out, his voice softer than normal since they were in a hospital.

The man in glasses frowned at Dean. "Yes?"

"You Gary?"

"Well, actually, it's Harry," he corrected, confused.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever, man."

Dean turned and jogged back down the hall. When he reached the end, he let out a piercing whistle before yelling out: "Yo, Sammy! Found 'em!"

The group watched as Sam joined Dean and the two made their way toward the seating area.

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

Dean flashed him a wide grin. "No, but I've seen your picture." He paused before turning to face his brother. "Dude, you're gonna need some new pictures; the other ones are probably toast."

Sam nodded but didn't say anything. Everyone sat in an awkward silence for several minutes.

"I'm sorry, but what are you doing here?" a balding man asked.

Dean smirked. "Waiting. And you?"

"I'm sorry, but should you be here?" the man pressed.

"Should you?" Dean shot back.

"Well, I've known Hermione for many years...."

"Who are you?" a stocky red-head asked.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sammy. He's Hermy's boy-toy," Dean answered. "And you?"

"Ron, I went to school with her."

Soon, the bald man cleared his throat pointedly. Ron's eyes widened. "Oh, sorry, these are my parents, Arthur and Molly, my brother Percy, my friend Harry, my sister Ginny, and my brothers George and Fred - they're twins," Ron said, pointing out the individuals as he spoke.

Dean's smile widened as he began to stare blankly at the wall behind Harry's head.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Oh yeah, it's that something he said brought back some good memories."

"What did I say?" Ron asked.

Dean's grin widened. "Twins. God, those chicks were hot."

"Really?" George asked, smiling.

"Don't suppose you'd care-," Fred started.

"To share the details," George finished.

"Boys!" Molly snapped.

The twins fell silent, grinning as Dean silently mouthed "later."

"Dean, will you please just shut up," Sam huffed.

"C'mon, I'm just trying to keep things relaxed, so stop being a bitch," Dean teased.

"I am not being a bitch!" Sam huffed. "I'm just - she was hurt and I'm concerned."

"Dude, I get that you love her, but take two seconds and untwist your panties. Jesus."

"Here's an idea, why don't you grow the hell up!"

"Sure, right after you grow a sense of humor."

"I have a sense of humor," Sam ground out.

"Uh, no you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"Both of you be quiet!" Molly snapped. The brothers froze, then turned to face her.

Almost in tandem, they muttered: "Yes, Ma'am."

"Bitch," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Stop be such a jerk, jerk," Sam muttered back, kicking Dean's ankle. "I have other thinks to think about."

"I know, and that's why I'm distracting you," Dean said, kicking back.

"Oh for the love of- am I going to have to separate you two?" Molly asked.

A few moments later, the arrival of two others drew the group's attention. Sam saw them and stood up, stepping forward.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, hi," he said, smiling weakly.

The Grangers stopped short, puzzled.

"Sam, what are you doing here? How did you-?"

A loud crash cut off the rest of Mrs. Granger's question.

"No, I have to go!"

The group watched as Hermione stumbled out of the hospital room, clutching her abdomen with one hand while bracing herself against the wall with the other. A mediwitch followed her out.

"Miss Granger, please, you need to rest."

"No, I need to find Sam!"

Any confusion or shock on Sam's part wore off as his protective instincts kicked in. Rushing forward, he gently grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her back into her room. Hermione followed, quietly staring up at her boyfriend with her mouth agape. As Hermione lay down, the rest of the group followed, crowding in the small room. Once she was in bed, covered and comfortable, Sam sat beside her, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.

"You're okay," he whispered. "You're okay."

"Hermione, darling, what's going on?"

Hermione looked up at her father. "I don't know. Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know, Dean knew some guys at the scene, they were cops or something, and they sent us here."

Suddenly, the attention of the entire group turned toward Dean.

Dean grinned.

"Yeah, they're Auroras, wizard cops. A couple years back, Dad and I were hunting a some werewolf gone crazy, but so were these two witches. Anyways, we got there just as they were waving their wands around. They started freaking out, talking about wiping our memory, at which point I said I'd kill 'em and then salt and burn their remains if they pointed their sticks at me. Which was apparently the right thing to say because there's some provision in the American laws about hunters being exempt from the regular rules or something. I dunno," he explained, finishing with a relaxed shrug. "Anyways, there were two guys in nightgowns at the building, and guys in nightgowns aren't exactly common in America, not even in the Bay Area."

"But what happened to you, Hermione?" Percy asked.

"I don't know. I'd just gotten out of the shower and this man was just standing there, grinning. I couldn't get to my wand fast enough, and then he started levitating me toward the ceiling. He started to cut me open, and then... his eyes, they flashed yellow," she explained in a whisper. "Then Sam came in, so the man raised his finger to his lips to shush me, and then he turned the shower on, which struck me as odd. Sam laid down on the bed and then I started bleeding. It fell on him, and that was when he saw me. He looked so terrified. Then the fire started, and Sam...," she trailed off, crying softly.

"That was when Hermione activated her port key, which took her to our home," Mr. Weasley finished. "We immediately brought her here."

Dean and Sam looked at each other. Sam stood and moved away from Hermione, his shoulder's hunched.

"It's my fault," he muttered. "It's because of me."

"Don't say that Sammy; it's his fault, not yours," Dean said.

"How could it be your fault?" Harry asked.

Dean and Sam looked at each other for several seconds.

"It's up to you, Sam," Dean said.

Sam roughly ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "It was a demon. When I was a baby, it killed my Mom, the same way it tried to kill you. I should have warned you."

"You couldn't have known what would happen, Sam," Dean said.

"No, I did know! I... saw it in my dreams. But I thought it was just a dream."

"You dreamt it?" Molly asked.

Sam dragged his hands down his face. "Yeah, I saw it happen."

"Have you ever had prophetic dreams before?" Hemione asked.

"No."

Harry spoke next. "Is is possible the demon marked you somehow?"

Sam frowned. "Uh, I dunno; maybe. I mean, the demon goes after two people I care about? But it's been over twenty years."

"Has the demon been active all this time?" she asked, a frown marring her brow as she considered the problem.

"Our Dad's been hunting the demon since our Mom died, but it's been quiet for a long time," Dean added.

"So maybe the demon marked you somehow, and once the demon became active again, it triggered whatever ability you may have," Hermione concluded.

The group fell silent, considering the information.

"We should go, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam looked at Hermione, his eyes filled with longing and regret as he nodded.

"Wait, Sam, where are you going?" Hermione asked, reaching for him.

"Away. He tried to kill you, I can't let you get hurt."

"Sam, he won't be able to hurt me-."

"No, I won't let him hurt you, I can't lose you," Sam said roughly. "If he's going after people I care about, I need to leave."

"Now listen here," Mr. Weasley said, stepping forward. "We may not know about phellytones or teevees or V.D. players, but we know about monsters, including demons."

"Yeah, there's a reason that not a single witch or wizard has been possessed in over 500 years," Ginny added.

"Really?" Dean asked. "That's kind of awesome."

"But the demon, it wants me," Sam said.

"No offense, but that's not the scariest thing we've faced," Harry said. "I mean, yes, it is a demon. But we dealt with the most evil wizard in recent times, perhaps all time. He killed my parents when I was a baby and tried to kill me. It didn't work and I ended up connected to him and could sometimes tell what happened to him, and he could even get into my mind from time to time. But his followers in the hundreds, and they were everywhere, torturing and killing people. Compared to hundreds of psychotic and magically proficient wizards and witches, one demon doesn't sound that scary," Harry said, shrugging.

"We can help, Sam," Hermione said.

"Yes, I have contacts at the Ministry of Magic who can help us get some information. It's possible there may have even been a prophecy, which we would have," Arthur offered.

"Yeah, and I'm an Auror. I'm pretty sure we've got a department dealing only with demonic activities," Harry odded.

Sam was quiet for a minute. "We need to get a hold of my Dad. He knows just about everything about the demon," he finally said.

"So we've got a plan?" Dean asked. "Excellent. Now, do I still get to use a gun?"

"You have a gun?" Fred asked.

George grinned. "Can we see it?"

"Maybe; what do you have to barter with?" Dean countered.

Fred and George grinned wider, then spoke as one.

"Our very own joke shop."

Dean grinned, his smile matching that of the twins. "Boys, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Supernatural Crossover Series: 5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated, #3

2009-10-23T05:43:09Z

Title: Trembling Before God...desses
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: Supernatural/DC Comics
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Diana Prince
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap the owners; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or the DC works are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
A/N: Okay, so I read a couple of stories showing Sam in love with various other characters. But what if he'd fallen for them while in Stanford? How would that have changed the night of the demon's return?
All parts areHERE in my memories

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean steered his baby through the streets of Palo Alto while he lazily rested his arm along the back of the seat. They'd been riding in silence since San Jose; the closer they got to Sam's apartment, the greater the tension in the car.

Finally, Dean cleared his throat, then spoke. "So... you hear about that new superhero chick in San Francisco?"

Sam turned and stared at his brother, incredulous. "What, you mean the masked lady that seems to be a lot like Superman and flies around the West Coast, fighting crime? Never heard of her," he smirked.

"Bitch," Dean grumbled. "I was just trying to start a conversation. What do they call her, anyways? Wonderbra?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure Wonderbra is copyrighted," Sam pointed out, grimacing as the words left his mouth. "And this conversation just got weird."

"It did, but it's your fault. So, new topic," Dean said. "How about you tell me how in the hell you wound up with an Amazonian hottie for a girlfriend? I mean, it's gotta be hard being the damsel in distress in the relationship," he smirked.

"Yeah right," Sam snorted. "You're just pissed off because she pulled us apart and busted your lip, bloodied your nose, gave you a black eye and jacked you up against the wall in five seconds flat."

"Well, it's not my fault your girlfriend is freakishly strong," Dean blustered.

"She's not freakishly strong," Sam protested, laughing.

"Dude, even with all the training Dad put us through, she makes you seem like a girl. Which isn't that hard, but still," Dean teased. "She's strong, and she's got some skills when it comes to fighting."

"She doesn't talk about her mom a lot, but I guess she made her study self defense before she went to college," Sam said with a shrug.

Dean turned into the building's parking lot and stopped his car. The two brother's got out of the car, their good humor dissipating.

Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala, silent.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed, knowing that it would probably never happen. Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart. With one last look at Dean, Sam turned away.

All of a sudden, he heard a deep rumble. The ground seemed to roll beneath him before he realized that it wasn't an earthquake; it was a vibration, the waves of an inaudible sound rattling the doors and the windows of the building, and shaking his body. Sam froze, an icy fear clenching his heart; it was an odd occurrence and in hunting, odd occurrences weren't just coincidences.

He flashed back to his dream. Even though his dreams had been about blood and fire, not vibrations, he still thought of the dream. He could still see her, pinned to the ceiling, her hair fanned out around her face, wreathed in flames as her mouth opened in a wordless cry for help.

Irrational fear clenched his gut; Sam bolted up the stairs, Dean on his heels. When he reached his apartment, he threw the door open. The apartment was empty; lights were on, papers and pictures scattered on the floor, but it was silent.

"Di? Diana?" he called.

Dean stood behind, frowning as he reached for his gun.

"You smell that?" Dean whispered.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Sulphur."

They moved toward the bedroom, tensed. Sam opened the door and froze.

"Holy shit," he whispered as his stomach tightened and lurched, trying to force itself up into Sam's throat.

Dean looked over Sam's shoulder, his face a matching mask of shock.

The demon stood before them, writhing and raging, pinned against the wall by an unseen force. Its lips moved as though speaking, but its voice could not be heard. Diana sat on the bed, her hair in disarray, nightgown torn to reveal a long, thin bruise on her abdomen. She was alive, the knowledge relaxing his stomach. Sam rushed to kneel before her and pulled her into his arms. Between the adrenaline, fear, and relief coursing through him, his hands shook as he ran them up and down her back.

"God baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I should have warned you," he murmured, his face buried in her hair as he blinked back tears.

Gently, Diana pushed him away. Her blue eyes searched his face as she frowned.

"You knew that this would happen?"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, leaning forward to rest his forehead on her knees. "That thing, it killed my Mom. I thought.... I've been having dreams, seeing you die the same way she did. I thought it was just a dream, a messed up dream about her death and you. I'm so sorry, I didn't know it would happen."

Diana reached out and cupped his jaw. "So you didn't know it would happen?"

"Okay, obviously this is an important conversation, but hell happened to the demon?" Dean yelled.

Diana turned to him and pierced him with a stern gaze. T he resolve in her eyes faltered as her mouth worked, trying to find an explanation.

"Look, I get that you're afraid we won't believe you," Sam conceded, clasping her hands in his. "But we're hunters, we've been hunting dark things almost my entire life. We'll believe you."

"You should tell them," a voice said from behind Dean.

Dean turned and took in the sight of one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Tall and curvaceous with a mass of copper hair, the woman was draped in silk.

Diana rose from the bed and approached her, bowing sightly and inclining her head in a sign of respect. Sam followed, his hand on the small of her back, afraid that she'd somehow disappear. The woman reached out and placed two fingers under Diana's chin and raised her head.

"He loves you dearly. He is strong enough to know, they both are," she declared with certainty.

Diana nodded, nervousness etched in the lines on her face as she glanced back at Sam.

"They may well be strong enough, but I believe the brothers will require proof," a new voice said. The group turned toward the demon and found the source of the voice and the demon's entrapment. It was another woman. She had long, black hair held back by a stylized crown that covered part of her head like a helmet. She also wore a flowing gown, but hers was shorter, her torso covered with a silver breast plate. She was using both arms to easily pin the demon to the wall. The demon bucked against her, but she merely rolled her eyes, her hold never faltering.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Yeah?"

"Does your building have a history of hot women popping out thin air?" Dean asked, partially afraid and partially aroused by the strange women.

"Uh, not that I know of, man." Sighing, Sam moved away and dropped heavily onto the bed. "Jesus, this is one fucked up day."

Diana smiled softly before moving over to the heavy antique wardrobe against the far wall. Sam and Dean watched, then sputtered as Diana effortlessly pushed the wardrobe several feet with one hand, revealing a hidden compartment.

"Jesus Christ, she really is freakishly strong," Dean proclaimed.

The copper haired woman struck with the speed of a snake, hitting Dean in the back of his head.

"What the hell?" he yelled, inching away from her.

The woman said nothing, instead choosing to watch Diana. The dark haired young woman opened the compartment and withdrew a bag. She sat down on the bed and handed it to Sam.

"What is it, Di?" he whispered with a frown.

She smiled timidly.

"Open it," she answered.

Sam pulled open the ties and removed a ball of fabric. He set it on his lap and unrolled it, revealing two wide, silver bracelets, a golden crown, and a golden mask that covered someone's upper face. Stunned, Sam reached into the bag and removed a golden coil of rope. The pieces clicked together.

"Holy shit, you... you're her. You're Wonder Woman," he stammered.

Diana smiled weakly and nodded. "Yes, I am."

Silence fell over the room until Dean finally spoke.

"Way to go Sammy! Knocking boots with a superhero!"

The copper haired woman once again moved forward and slapped the back of Dean's head.

"Be silent!" she hissed.

"Hey, would you stop doing that! If you hit me every time I say something stupid, you're gonna break me," he pointed out.

The dark haired woman who held the demon against the wall merely sighed and rolled here eyes again.

"So, what, are you an alien or something, like Superman?" Sam asked.

"No, I'm not," Diana said. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I am Diana, daughter of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. I am the Princess of and emissary for Themyscira."

"You're an Amazon?" Dean laughed, amused that his earlier joke about her was actually true.

Before the copper haired woman could strike again, Dean leapt away from her, smirking.

"Yes, I was born and raised on Themyscira. When I was born, I was blessed by Aphrodite, Athena, Demeter, Hestia, Artemis, and Hermes. That is how I received my abilities," Diana explained.

"Wait, you mean actual Goddesses, as in Mount Olympus?" Sam asked. "That's incredible."

"Wow, that's actually pretty damn cool. But, still, what happened to yellow eyes over there?" Dean asked, quickly glancing behind himself in fear of being struck yet again.

Diana looked down at her hands before answering, a tremor of fear running through her again.

"When the demon appeared, I was touched by pure evil for the first time. It... I could feel the darkness, its intent. I'd never felt anything like it before. But since I'd been blessed by the Gods, I am somewhat connected to them. Athena felt the demon's presence and came to my aide," Diana explained. Dean blinked, then turned to the woman who held the demon against the wall.

"You're Athena?" Dean asked. He turned to look at the woman who'd repeatedly struck him. "So who are you?"

"I am Aphrodite."

"Ah shit, just my luck; I piss of a Goddess and it's the Goddess of Love," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. "So, any ideas on how do we kill this thing?"

Aphrodite and Athena glanced at each other.

"We do not know," Athena answered.

"They are hunters," Aphrodite pointed out. "Perhaps Artemis would assist."

Athena nodded. "Send for her. I tire of holding this thing; it makes me feel soiled," Athena explained, curling her lip in disgust.

A third woman suddenly appeared in the room. Like Athena, she had long, dark hair. However, Artemis had her's pulled back, and wore a short, functional dress and boots, and carried a bow and a quiver of arrows.

"Yes?" she asked, looking expectantly at humans.

"My Lady, this thing attacked me," Diana explained, gesturing to the demon held by Athena.

"The two young men are hunters," Athena interrupted. "They hunt dark creatures such as this demon, which killed their mother and attempted to kill Diana. We felt that you would be the most appropriate to deal with this matter."

Artemis narrowed her eyes as she studied the demon. Reaching out, she drew her finger though the air. A light appeared where her finger moved, revealing a tear in the fabric of existence. Artemis reached into the tear and pulled out a sword.

"This will kill it," she declared, holding it out to the Winchester brothers.

Sam stepped forward, his head bowed in deference.

"Your, uh, Holiness," Sam started, wincing. "I can't thank you enough, but it isn't our place to kill it. Our Father has hunted it for over twenty years. If anyone should be allowed to kill it, it should be him."

"Very well," Artemis agreed after studying them. She looked at Aphrodite and understanding passed between them. The Goddess of love disappeared, then reappeared only seconds later, her hand on the shoulder of a stunned John Winchester.

John reached for his gun, wildly eying the room and his sons before fixing his gaze on the demon.

"What the hell is going on boys?" he barked.

"Uh, well-," Sam started.

"Sam's dating an Amazonian Princess who was blessed by a bunch of Greek goddesses. The demon came to kill her, so Athena, that's the one that's got the demon pinned, showed up and kicked it's ass. Then Aphrodite and Artemis showed up and offered us a sword to kill it, but Sammy figured it was your place to kill it," Dean quickly explained.

John blinked, then looked from the demon, to Artemis, then to Aphrodite, and then to Dean, Sam and Diana, before returning his gaze to the demon and Athena.

"Okay," he said with a chuckle. Leave it to his sons to fall in with a bunch of Goddesses. Moving forward, he took the sword from Artemis as he bowed his head. It never hurt to show respect. "So what will it do? Just remove him from earth, trap him in hell?"

"No. It will destroy him completely, wipe him from existence," Artemis explained.

The demon stilled, its eyes widening in fear. In all its millennia, it had never even considered an eventuality such as this. He'd hidden his actions from everyone in the heavens and hell. All of its planning and preparation was for naught.

Athena moved away from the wall, pulling the demon with her. She reached out with one hand, clasping Artemis' hand in hers, who joined her free hand with Aphrodite. Athena then released the demon, the combined power of the three Goddesses holding the demon immobile.

John Winchester took a few practice swings; he'd learned how to use one over the years, but it had been a while since he'd used anything but a machete. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward. Part of him couldn't believe that this could end so easily. But if the sword could actually do what the Goddess promised it would, he'd do whatever she asked. For Mary. Shaking off his lingering doubts, John swung with all his might. The sword whistled as the blade cut through the air, the weapon lighter than it should have been. It cut cleanly, cleaving the demon's head from it's body. Electricity crackled and a loud roar sounded. The room shook as a white tear appeared in the air, dragging the demon through it. The light and noise seemed to go on forever. Then it closed, the sound and vibrations ending as though someone had shut off a radio.

"It's gone," John said roughly. All of those years, and now, it was gone. He blinked his eyes rapidly; his sons, they were safe. It was gone. Turning back to Artemis, he held the blade out to her.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick from the relief and joy that nearly brought him to his knees in tears.

Dean and Sam were safe, all of the children were safe. The world was safe.

"No; you must keep it. There are other creatures that followed that one that may attempt to hurt you. The blade will always strike true, and destroy the darkest of creatures. Just don't use it on any spirits," Artemis said, a thin smile on her lips.

John frowned, but Athena spoke before he could.

"When you burn the remains of a spirit, they are released from the earth and go where they were meant to before their death. Many are confused when they commit terrible acts," she explained. "They, unlike a demon, deserve their final rest."

John clenched his fist around the hilt and nodded his head.

"Thank you," he said, his voice stronger. "I can't... I don't have the words to say it strong enough."

The three Goddesses merely smiled at him, and a warmth and calm that John hadn't known in decades blossomed in his chest. They then turned and inclined their heads toward Diana, who responded in kind. The three Goddesses disappeared, the room suddenly empty, but filled with a sense of peace.

John shook his head and smiled at the tender way Sam wrapped an arm around his girlfriend.

"So, you're an Amazon?" he said, smiling at her. She smiled nervously.

"Yes, I am Diana Prince," she said, extending her hand. John shook it.

"Yeah, she's also Wonder Woman," Dean added.

John's eyes widened.

"You're - wow, guess the demon really screwed up," John chuckled, a true smile gracing his lips.

Suddenly, Dean burst out in laughter.

Sam, Diana, and John looked at him, perplexed.

"Diana," Dean sputtered between laughs. "She's a Princess, Princess Diana. Sammy's dating Princess Di!"

The other three stared at Dean while his laughter faded to the occasional chuckle and snort. He looked at them and shrugged. "I thought it was funny."

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: I used the 1987 version of the Wonder Woman back story as a basis for this fic. I thought that perhaps instead of just diving into the world, she instead could have started living among other and learning about them, while hiding her identity. It feels weird to write her being so sheepish, but Diana had no experience with men before leaving the island, and thus was a fairly naive woman when it came to matters of heart. Kick ass, but naive. Information can be found a the address below.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wonder_woman#1987_reboot

Supernatural Crossover Series: 5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated, #2

2009-10-23T05:13:20Z

Title: Fire and Ice
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: Supernatural/Smallville
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Clark Kent
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap Joss and Kripke; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or Smallville (and the creators of the characters therein) are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
A/N: Okay, so I read a couple of stories showing Sam in love with various other characters. But what if he'd fallen for them while in Stanford? How would that have changed the night of the demon's return?
All parts areHERE in my memories
* * * * * * * * * * *

The Impala roared through the streets of Palo Alto toward Sam's apartment. It was late, the city enveloped in the quiet hush of a Sunday night.

"So what kind of law you wanna go into? Corporate?" Dean asked, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I want to spend hours going over contracts to make rich people richer. Nah, I want to be a prosecutor, put the bad guys away. Not exactly demon hunting, but it still needs to be done."

Dean smirked. "So, Sammy, about your boyfriend...."

Sam raised an eyebrow and glared. "Don't say anything, Dean."

Dean shot his brother an innocent look.

"I wasn't going to say anything! Just that he's, you know, really pretty."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam growled as his brother laughed.

They fell silent and Sam stared out the window.

"Dean, are you... okay with this?" he asked softly.

"Sam, can't say I wasn't surprised that you're chasing after men. Can't say I understand it, either. But you were smiling like a little school girl around him. You're happy, guess that's all-."

As Dean pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, he stopped short and tensed.

"What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean jerked his chin toward the parking lot. "Asphalt's covered in glass," he murmured, carefully steering his baby around the glass toward a parking space.

Once parked, they quickly got out of the car. Dean looked at the ground, trying to locate the source.

"No," Sam whispered.

Dean's head snapped toward his little brother, and his heart nearly stopped at the heartbreak and loss on Sammy's face. Following his brother's gaze, he saw the broken window of Sam's apartment. The younger Winchester moved toward the building.

"Sammy, wait!" Dean whispered harshly, moving forward to grab Sam's arm. "It's quiet right now, but you can't help him if you just go running in there."

Pulling Sam toward the Impala's trunk, Dean quickly opened it and pulled out two shotguns. He handed one to his brother. "Consecrated silver rounds."

Sam nodded and the two brothers went inside, silently moving up the stairs. They paused at the apartment door and listened. They could hear movement inside. Sam moved to the door and grabbed the doorknob, slowly twisting it; it was unlocked. He turned toward Dean, who nodded. Sam quietly opened the door and the two brother's rushed in, guns drawn. Papers were strewn about, knick knacks and pictures scattered. They could hear two voices in the bedroom, one male, one female.

Dean frowned. Who? he mouthed.

Sam mouthed back Friend.

They listened.

"Okay, so you got out of shower, and this guy with yellow eyes shows up and pins you to the ceiling using telekinesis?" came the doubtful voice of the female. "Okay, we've seen some weird stuff, but this is just...."

"Insane. Then I could feel something, like he was tugging on my guts or something. The he started to look really confused, like he was trying to do something."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, frowning. They walked into the bedroom, then stopped short, stunned. Clark sat on the bed in red pajama bottoms and nothing else, his blue eyes wide with shock. A cute blond girl was sitting next to him, dressed in pajamas and a jacket, a cell phone and car keys in her hands. And near the doorway stood a wispy black figure with yellow eyes, its form enveloped in a thick, misshapen block of ice. Clark and the girl jumped to their feet.

"What the hell?" Sam muttered, staring at the frozen figure.

"Holy shit it's the demon," Dean said, his eyes wide.

The puzzle pieces clicked inside Sam's mind.

"He was here because of me," he said. "He came here to kill you," he whispered, looking at Clark. Sam rushed forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, burying his face in Clark's neck. Stepping back, he studied Clark's torso.

"But you're okay. He tried to cut, but he didn't, you're okay," Sam said, puzzled as he ran his hand over Clark's stomach.

"Okay, sorry to interrupt the happy reunion, but what you mean 'demon?'" the blond yelled.

Dean turned to face her and smiled.

"Hi, Dean Winchester," he said. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Chloe Sullivan. And what do you mean 'demon?'" Clark pulled away from Sam.

"How do you know what that thing is?" Clark asked his boyfriend.

"I've got a better question: how the hell did you freeze it?" Dean asked.

Chloe looked between the three men, each of whom wore confused and guarded expressions.

"Oh for God's sake! Okay, how about we all just lay our cards on the table! Dean, you said this was a demon: you mean a real hellfire and brimstone demon?" she asked.

Dean let his eyes travel over the blond. She was smart, cute, and feisty as hell. "Yeah, it's a real demon. Demons, monsters and ghosts are real. This son of a bitch killed our Mom."

"Okay, so demons are real. Strange and scary, but not that unbelievable," she said. She turned toward Clark. "You should tell them."

The tall young man paled. "I can't, what, I mean what if they don't believe me," he whispered, staring at Sam nervously.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a baseball bat that was propped in the corner.

"Either of you happen to have a knife?" she asked. Frowning, Dean pulled a knife out from under his jacket. He handed it to the Chloe handle first. She walked up to Clark and quickly slashed the knife at his chest.

"Don't!" Sam yelled, rushing forward to grab Chloe's arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh, Sammy, take a look at your boy toy." Sam turned and saw Clark's unmarked body. He dropped Chloe's arm.

"But I thought...."

"I did try to cut him, but...." Chloe trailed off, holding up the knife. Its blade was slightly bent, the sharpened edge suddenly flat.

"My knife!" Dean yelled.

"Sorry, Dean," she said, handing it back to him. She handed the bat to Clark. "Here you go, Clark. Break it."

Clark smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend before easily snapping the bat in half.

"Oh my God," Sam murmured.

"Damn," Dean muttered in awe. "Just don't break anything important on my brother, okay?"

Clark blushed.

"Okay, so Clark isn't human, he's an alien," Chloe declared.

Dean and Sam stared, then Dean smirked.

"Had to go to another planet just to get laid, eh Sammy?"

Clark blushed again.

"Actually, my home planet was destroyed, so my parents sent to Earth to be raised," he said.

"Yeah, you know that meteor shower that happened in the '80s?" Chloe asked. "That was cover for Clark's ship. Being on Earth gives him abilities different from a normal human. He has immense strength, speed, heat vision, X-ray vision, super-hearing and super-breath. The super-breath is a new one. Oh, and he's pretty much invulnerable."

Dean snorted. "Super-breath?" he asked, grinning widely. "You are one lucky bastard, Sammy."

"Yeah, my breath is really strong. It can move really heavy objects, or even freeze things," Clark explained, blushing at Dean's insinuations. Sam was simply staring at his boyfriend in surprise. Clark faced his boyfriend, nervous. "Are you okay, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, then smiled. "Damn, I thought I had the corner on strange families. This is incredible. Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, cupping Clark's face.

"Yeah, I'm fine Sam."

"So what exactly happened Ole Yeller here?" Dean asked.

"He pinned me to the ceiling and tried to cut me, I guess. It got confused, then flames started to spring up. I couldn't break free from his hold, so I blew the flames out and kind of knocked it back. I guess that broke its concentration, so it dropped me and I got the chance to freeze him."

"So what do we do with it now?" Chloe asked, looking at the demon.

Dean smirked as he pulled out his cell phone. The phone clicked as he took a picture with his camera.

"Dad is gonna love this."

Supernatural Crossover Series: 5 People Sam Winchester Should Have Dated, #1

2009-10-23T04:36:24Z

Title: Broken Glass
Author: vinniebatman
Fandom: BtVS/SPN
Pairings: For this one, Sam Winchester/Dawn Summers
Rating/Warnings: This one is teen.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap Joss and Kripke; they were threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership of either Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.*
A/N: Okay, so I read a couple of stories showing Sam in love with various other characters. But what if he'd fallen for them while in Stanford? How would that have changed the night of the demon's return?

All parts areHERE in my memories
* * * * * * * * * * *

Sam and Dean stood outside of the apartment building next to the Impala.

"You’ll call me if you find him?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. He didn't want to leave Dean alone, but he had a life here, with Dawn, and he couldn't give her up. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed, knowing that it would probably never happen. Sam turned away from his brother and headed into the apartment.

"Sam!" Dean called out. Sam turned to his brother, who continued. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The two bothers looked at each other, the silence of the night and things unsaid driving them apart.

BOOM!

Glass exploded outward from Sam's apartment as small tendrils of smoke drifted out.

Sam felt his heart stop in his chest. "God, no.... Dawn."

Dropping his bag, he ran up the stairs. Kicking in the door to his apartment, he coughed as thick black smoke and sulfur fumes billowed around him. His dream, it was happening.

"Dawn!" He yelled, frantically running into the bedroom.

"Sam!" Dean followed his brother into the burning apartment, quickly scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of Sam's leggy, brunette girlfriend. The fire grew, orange flames slowly cutting off Sam's exit. In a split second, Dean recognized the danger Sam was too consumed with panic and fear to see.

"Sam!" he yelled, running forward and grabbing Sam's arm.

"Dawn!" Sam screamed, looking frantically at the ceiling.

Dropping his eyes to the bed, his heart broke; there, in the middle of the blood-spotted bed, was Dawn's silver cross necklace, the chain broken. "Dawn, no!"

Dean pulled forcefully on his brother's arm, dragging him from the apartment, sepherding his brother down the stairs to the parking lot. Moving to the Impala, Sam stared blankly at the asphalt as Dean looked him over for injuries.

"Sam?" Sam looked up and saw her. There stood Dawn, shivering and bleeding from a stomach wound, dressed in a short, white nightgown; Sam's favorite. Next to her stood a redheaded woman in a flannel nightgown.

"Dawnie?" Sam asked, his voice cracking. Rushing forward, he enveloped her in his arms. "God, are you okay? I saw the necklace, I thought...." Sam's voice broke.

Sirens cut through the night, approaching the site of the blaze. Suddenly, Dawn shoved him away and kicked against his shin with her bare foot.

"You jerk! What, you couldn't be bothered to tell me a demon was hunting you!" she yelled, her face red with anger.

"Whoa, wait: you knew this thing was demon?" Dean cut in. "How the hell did you get away?"

Dawn looked at the redhead, who nodded. "It came in and cut me, then used telekinesis to pin me to the ceiling. So I ripped off my necklace and summoned Willow."

Dean and Sam stiffened at the word "summoned."

"You summoned Willow, as in 'your sister's best friend who used to babysit you' Willow?" Sam asked, taking off his jacket and placing it on Dawn's shoulders.

"What are you?" Dean asked Willow, his voice low and dangerous.

The redhead smiled nervously. "A witch."

Dean pulled out his gun and aimed. Willow's eyes widened fearfully and she flicked her wrist, sending Dean's gun clattering to the ground. "Uh, don't shoot! I'm a good witch, I promise! Dawnie's necklace was a protection charm that she could use if she ever needed help! I made because she has a bad habit of getting kidnapped, usually on Tuesdays, so when she ripped it off it woke me up in Cleveland and I teleported here and I kinda... well, I didn't know what to do so I bound the demon into a pocket dimension to deal with later and got us out of there as fast as I could," she rambled, wringing her hands.

Dean's eyebrows raised; "A pocket dimension?" Dawn and Willow nodded.

"Damn," Dean muttered. "How did you end up in the middle of this?" he asked, turning to Dawn.

The shivering girl shrugged. "Ever heard of a vampire slayer?"

WHY GOD WHY?! - Now with Edit!

2009-10-20T12:26:29Z

Why brain?

Why do you wake at 3:30 in the morning?

WHY DO YOU HATE ME, BRAIN!

WHY MUST I MAINLINE COFFEE TODAY JUST TO SURVIVE?!

EDIT: Okay, so I'm at work and tired, but I'm happy. Robert, this really cool security guard who always smiles and says "hi" and makes my day has been out for several months due to health issues. But he's back! I got a hug and a big smile and I'm so happy he's doing better.

It's amazing the effect friends can have on a rotten day.

*looks at all of you*

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 6/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:54:18Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 6/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * * *
Three hours later, Xander sat on the back of the bike, his arms wrapped around Spike. It felt weird, being in his own body again. But it was nice to be where he belonged; he'd missed his heartbeat. As it turned out, it had been a simple spell to reverse. Since the spell kept their essences switched, the caster had to simply break the spell. So once the sun had set, Spike and Xander had left to see Xander's new apartment.

Spike was equally enjoying the ride back to Xander's new home, feeling the warm body pressed against him was even better than he'd imagined. After a quick trip through the town, they arrived at a small apartment building near Buffy's house. Spike led him upstairs and opened the door with a flourish. Xander walked in slowly, surveying his new apartment. It was barren of furniture, but spacious and with plenty of windows, all of which were already covered with thick drapery.

"Wow, it's nice," Xander finally said, turning to face Spike. Spike was still outside.

"Gonna invite me in?" Spike asked, his face an unreadable mask.

"Oh yeah, mi casa es su crypt," Xander joked, smiling widely. "Please come in, Spike."

"Didn't get you much in the way of furniture or food, figured you'd know best," Spike explained as he shut the door behind them. "Though I did get you a bed."

Xander's face flushed as he went to the bedroom. There was just a nightstand and a bed. The bed had no headboard, but it was new. And big.

"Well, it looks way better than the foldout," he said. "Thanks, Spike. For everything."

"No problem."

They stood there, silent as the seconds passed. Xander cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again.

"Sod it," Spike finally growled.

Rushing forward, he knocked Xander onto the bed and kissed him. Xander made a small, joyful sound in the back of his throat, before winding his arms around Spike's neck. Their tongues twined together, Spike gently cupping Xander's face with his hands while he shifted his body until he was straddling Xander's supine form. Finally, when Xander needed to breath, he broke the kiss.

"What do you want?" Spike asked, his voice nearly a growl.

"Nakeness, I vote for naked happy fun times," Xander said, arching up to rub his crotch against Spike's.

Spike kissed him again, their mouths fusing together. Xander was only vaguely aware of his jacket and button-up shirt disappearing and didn't really focus on anything aside from the kiss until Spike disappeared. Xander opened his eyes.

"What? No, no leaving, more kissing," he protested.

"Sorry, but we're wearing too much sodding clothes."

"Oh. Good point."

Xander directed his limbs to move, his fingers fumbling with his pants, struggling to open them. Seconds later, Spike's fingers pushed his away, quickly undoing the button and zipper before pulling Xander's pants and boxers down his legs.

"I think your kisses are evil."

Spike paused and grinned; a real grin, not a smirk. Xander had never seen it before, but that smile was breathtaking.

"Evil?"

"Yeah, they make my brain and fingers stop working. I can't get anything to cooperate," Xander whined.

Spike's grin turned evil as he crouched to pull off Xander's shoes before pulling his pants and boxers off the rest of the way.

"Don't worry about it," he said before kissing his way up Xander's stomach and chest. We'll just have to practice, and until then, I'll take care of you."

"You'll tutor me?" Xander asked, grinning widely.

Spike smiled as he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll tutor you."

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Spike was laying on top of him and kissing his brains out, rocking their bodies together. And once again, Xander's brain went offline, leaving him at the mercy of his body, only able to wrap his arms around Spike's neck and hang on for the ride. It all felt too good, the drag of his cock against Spike's, the kisses, the feeling of being cherished.

Spike broke the kiss and moved away, stretching across the bed to dig in the nightstand.

"Damnit, stop stopping," Xander ordered, distracted by the sight of Spike's lean torso stretched above him. Xander rested his hands on Spike's chest, palms and fingers gently tracing his muscles. The pale skin moved and soon, Spike was kneeling over Xander once again, a bottle in one hand.

"Lube? I'm pretty sure I didn't buy that."

"This won't be the first time I've come in this bed," Spike explained, grinning as he squited some onto one hand.

Xander's cheeks flamed as erotic images skittered through his mind. "I should be mad at your for using my body in such a fashion, but all I can think about is you jerking off in your body. Kinda hot."

"Kinda?"

"Okay, really hot. Maybe-oohhhhh...."

Xander's eyes rolled back in his head as Spike wrapped a slick hand around both their cocks.

"Oh sweet dancing Jesus," Xander whimpered, arching his back.

Spike reclaimed Xander's mouth, their tongues writhing together while one hand stroked them in tandem. Xander started grinding up against Spike with abandon, small moans escaping from his throat.

Spike moved his mouth Xander's throat, nipping at the skin there while Xander babbled.

"Oh God, that’s, yes, there, please."

Spike raised his head to look into Xander's eyes. Xander met his gaze, staring up into bright blue eyes.

"Gonna come, Xan? Shoot all over us?"

Xander swallowed before he started panting, nodding.

"Yes," he rasped. His back arched further as muscles in his body began to tense and lock.

"God, please Spike," he whimpered. "Please."

"Yeah, that's it. Come on, pet," Spike urged, speeding up the pace of his hand.

Seconds later, Xander squeezed his eyes shut, crying out wordlessly as he spilled over Spike's fist and his own belly. As pleasure spiraled through him, he heard Spike's choked off curse, followed by a cooler release that joined Xander's.

Spike collapsed beside him, pulling Xander against him. They lay there, sated and content, Spike listening to the slowing of Xander's frantic heartbeat. Moments later, Xander spoke.

"So, I was wondering. Can we go on an actual date?"

Spike chuckled in the dark.

"Anything you want, pet."

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 5/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:52:26Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 5/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * * *

Giles looked through the window into Ethan’s shop. Strains from “EMI” could be faintly heard, as well as Ethan screaming along. The mage wasn’t really doing anything, just putting away books. Gathering his courage, Giles entered. The bell above the shop door tinkled it opened.

Ethan looked up, smirking when he saw him. “Well, well, well, what can I do for you?”

Ethan ambled over to the door, hips rolling in a sensuous motion.

Giles raised his eyebrows and ignored the question.

“You know Ethan, you really shouldn’t play the Sex Pistols.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a middle-aged small business owner dressed in a lavender button-down shirt and charcoal slacks. Not very punk.”

“So says the former tweed-coated Watcher,” Ethan shot back. “Besides, I’ve heard tales of impromptu coffee-house performances on your part.”

Giles smiled gently; the friendly bickering was so familiar.

“True, but I don’t pretend I’m 18 anymore.”

Ethan shook his head and gathered several books in his arms before heading behind a shelf. Giles followed as Ethan began to speak.

"Neither do I. But there's nothing wrong with having fun."

Giles tensed. "Unfortunately, fun for you usually means trouble for those I care about."

Ethan sighed, then turned to face Giles.

"Ripper, I swear, there isn't anything in the works. Sunnydale is a good place to spread chaos, but as I learned with the Mayor and the Initative, there are usually too many dangerous elements around, ready to turn chaos into death. I'm not here for any reason, other than the fact I've become a sentimental fool in my old age." Ethan walked over to Giles and gently cupped his cheek. "The only reason I'm here is for you, luv. I miss you, and despite all the experiences I've had, you're still the only one I've ever loved."

Giles swallowed. Pangs of longing surged through him. God he wanted Ethan, even though he knew it would more than likely end badly. But he didn't have the strength to resist. Leaning forward, he pressed their mouths together. Ethan had always been impatient, and that hadn't changed.

The chaos mage quickly opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. They pressed their bodies together, pent up frustration, hurt, and longing spilling over. This wasn't a simple kiss, it was a renewal. Giles could feel Ethan's magic the way he had in his youth. Their magics were moving toward each other, blending. With a moan, he pressed his body against Ethan’s.

Gods don't let this end badly, he prayed.

He wasn't sure he could take losing Ethan a second time.

* * * * * * * * *

It was a sunny afternoon as Willow and Tara lay on the blanket in the park, wrapped around each other and content. Willow sighed and looked over at her lover.

"We should really go and see Giles. That magic surge from the other night, I can feel it, it's still working. It's chaotic, uncontrolled," she said.

Tara nodded. "I know, I felt it too," she murmured, running her hand up and down Willow's arm.

Sighing, she took the initiative and stood. Willow pouted.

"Come on, baby," Tara said. "Work now, cuddles later."

Willow smiled before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss. The two witches stood and gathered their bags and blanket before walking to the downtown area. As they looked down the street, they saw Giles heading into a closed shop.

"Wonder what Giles is doing?" Willow wondered aloud.

Tara shrugged.

"Let's drop our stuff off at the Magic Box, then see," Tara suggested.

"Okay."

The girls hurriedly went to the shop and dropped their things off behind the counter

"Hey! This is a store, not a closet!" Anya yelled at them. Tara and Willow ignored her and started out the door.

"Hey, what's going on?" Anya demanded.

"Mi-mister Giles went into the n-new bookstore down the street," Tara explained.

Anya's eyes narrowed.

"The closed one that that chaos guy used to own?"

"Yeah," Willow said, making her way to the door.

"Maybe he's spying on the competition," Anya theorized. "We should help!"

Quickly shooing the two girls out of the shop, she locked up and joined the witches in their walk down the street. They reached the shop quickly and looked into the window; the shop looked empty.

Willow frowned.

"I could have sworn I saw him come in here," she muttered.

"I s-saw him too," Tara offered.

Anya's eyes widened.

"What if chaos guy is in there and he's hurting Giles?" she asked. "What if he kills him! I have no legal claim to the store!"

Tara and Willow looked at each other, suddenly fearful.

"Should we get Buffy?" Willow asked.

Anya frowned, then shook her head.

"No, we should take a closer look first. Because maybe he left and Buffy would kinda get pissed if we dragged her from the school for no reason," Anya said.

Tara and Willow nodded. Recon it was.

* * * * * * *

Giles pressed Ethan against the shelf, then buried his face against Ethan's throat. Anyone who knew the Englishmen would be surprised to discover that Ethan was highly submissive, a trait he'd buried in his time apart from Giles. But with one kiss, he was ready to surrender anything to get Ripper back. Giles bit the skin of Ethan's throat, then sucked on it until is started to color. As he felt the gentle tremors of Ethan's body and magic, a thought occurred.

"So Ethan, if you're reformed now," he started, pausing to flick his tongue into Ethan's ear before continuing, "What was that spike of chaos I felt the other night?"

Leaning forward, Giles nipped at Ethan's lower lip before pulling away and looking into his former lover's eyes.

Ethan raised his hands in surrender. "It wasn't me, Rupert. I felt the magic too, but I swear, it wasn't me."

Giles raised an eyebrow and studied Ethan, then shook his head. "No, I don't suppose it was you. Whatever is happening, it's small, far too small for one of your games. And it completely lacks control."

Ethan frowned.

"Is this all we're going to do, or can we return to more interesting pursuits?" he asked, unbuttoning Giles' shirt.

With a sinful grin, Giles started working on Ethan's pants. "I think something more interesting is in order."

* * * * * * * * * *

Willow, Tara, and Anya stood at the store's back door. Flicking their fingers in tandem, Willow and Tara unlocked the door, then paused.

"Wards," Tara murmured. "Good ones."

Anya watched, intrigued as the two witches held hands and began chanting. A faint glow surrounded them before fading. Stepping forward, Willow opened the door and went in first. She quickly glanced around the back room before walking in and waving Tara and Anya after her. Quietly, they crept forward. Pausing at the doorway to the main part of the shop, Willow quickly peeked around the corner.

When she returned her eyes to the back room, they were wide and shocked. And her face was beet-red. Frowning, Anya and Tara moved forward and looked out. Tara's face flushed as she turned away from the sight, but Anya didn't. Anya's face split with a grin. Giles was leaning against a bookcase, his shirt open and revealing a nicely toned chest. A gentleman was on his knees, giving the former Watcher what appeared to be a top-notch blow job. Giles had his finger's threaded through the other man's hair, his back arched. She watched, enraptured as Giles' body tensed and jaw clenched. She opened her mouth, only to feel a small hand slap over it. Pulling, Willow dragged Anya away from the door.

Anya slapped Willow's hand away.

"What did you do that for?" she whispered hoarsely.

"You were going to say something," Willow whispered back, her face still red.

"W-w-w-we sh-sh-should go," Tara mumbled nervously.

"Well, I want to see what happens next," Anya argued, her volume increasing.

Pulling away from Willow, she tried to look out into the store. But Willow grabbed her arm and tugged on her, knocking Anya off balance. Flailing her arms, Anya fell against a stack of boxes, the top one falling and landing on the ground with a loud thwack. The three women panicked.

"Run away!" Anya yelled, flapping her hands excitedly.

"It's a bit late for that," a voice drawled.

Turning, the young women faced a smirking Ethan and a red faced Giles.

"Hi, I'm Anya. We've never me before, but I think we should be friends. You're very talented," Anya enthused.

Giles groaned and started cleaning his glassed while Ethan laughed.

"You know, I think I'm really going to like you," Ethan smirked.

* * * * * * * * * *

Xander paced Spike's crypt, anxious as he recalled the previous evening.

Dawn had only grinned when "Spike" questioned the Scoobies about the changes to "Xander." Instead of answering, she had starting singing "Spike and Xander, sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," before Buffy had finally covered her mouth with her hand. So before he could tell them the truth, Xander had decided to find Spike. He needed to know what changes the vampire had made, and more importantly, why. But by the time he'd gotten outside, any trail Spike might've left had gone cold. Dejected, Xander had walked back to the crypt and gotten trashed on Spike's hidden cache of whiskey. He'd slept most of the day, but he'd still awoken a few hours before sunset.

So he paced. Spike could have done anything; walk around the city naked, gone to the beach, beaten up strangers, anything. But instead, he'd moved out of the basement, gotten a makeover, a better job, and ended a dead-end relationship with Anya.

What the hell is he doing? If he was sucking up, that would make sense. But this is beyond sucking up, this is giving me a good life. Either he's up to something, or he's officially the lamest vampire in history. Because this would be some lame torture.

Dropping heavily onto the bed, he looked around the room, hoping for a clue he'd missed, like a large sign that read "Fifty Sneaky Things to Do to Xander Harris In Order to Confuse Him." Instead, he spotted the bow Clem had placed on the bag of human blood.

Then realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Holy shit! He has a crush, and it's on me! What the hell is wrong with him, is he retarded?

Jumping up from the bed, Xander paced. He had no idea where his new apartment was, but the gang might. He knew from experience that Spike had found a sewer entrance to the shop; and of course, Spike being Spike, there was a sewer entrance in the street next to the cemetery. Pulling on clothes, Xander went through the pockets of the trench coat. Inside, he found a variety of things, including a compass. Grabbing a blanket, he raced out of the crypt and into the street. Reaching down, he pulled open the manhole and jumped onto the ladder. Closing it, he slung the blanket around his neck. Even in the darkness, his vampire eyesight could read the compass. Climbing down the ladder, Xander began the task of reaching the Magic Box.

* * * * * * * * * *

After a full day at work learning the ropes of his supervisor position (while taking notes for Xander), Spike sat on his bike, thinking. If he knew Xander, he’d be using those new vamp senses and the sewers to get to the store as soon as possible. He sighed; he was going to have to stop sometime and face Xander. There were certainly going to be questions, and if he was at the Magic Box, at least they'd keep Xander from killing him. He started the bike and tore through Sunnydale, reaching the Magic Box in under five minutes. Walking in, the store was in an uproar. Tara was hiding behind a curtain of her hair, eyes glued to a book, while Willow babbled at top speed, red-faced as well, and Buffy was pacing, hands flailing. Someone he didn't recognize was standing by Giles, and according to body language, they were definitely an item.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Giles and Ethan are having orgasms together, Xander! We saw them and Ethan is very talented! But then Willow made me stop watching," Anya said with a pout.

Spike raised an eyebrow. So that's why Glinda won't look at anyone.

Looking over at Ethan, then Giles, Spike smirked. "Well done, Giles. Decided to have a bit of fun, eh?"

Ethan smirked while Giles just looked perplexed. Willow, Tara, and Buffy were stunned.
"But, Xander, why aren't you mad? He tried to kill the babies and me and then, then he made those costumes go weird!" Buffy rambled, her eyes wide, dazed, and thoroughly befuddled.

Spike nodded as he remembered, though his his memory and opinion of these events were slightly different.

"Ah, I'm sure Giles will keep him on a leash," Spike smirked.

Giles pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them.

"Oh my God, you are going to put him on a leash, aren't you!" Buffy yelled.

"Oh, that sounds like fun," Anya chimed in, nodding.

Biting back a laugh, Spike left them behind and walked into the training room. He stood in the corner, shadowed by the lowering sun and waited. Ten minutes later, the trap door burst open. Xander easily jumped out of the tunnel.

Xander charged toward the door before the sound of a heartbeat had him stopping and turning. He caught sight of Spike and took in his appearance. Spike was simply standing there, leaning against the wall with effortless grace and confidence.

“What the hell did you do to me?" Xander asked, advancing on Spike.

Spike pursed his lips and frowned, gathering his wits. Alright, don't bollocks it up. You've got one chance.

“I’ve gotten you a job at a construction site; the pay is twice what you were making before, and there’s room to move up. Yes, I did break up with Anya, but even you had to admit that your relationship with her was going nowhere. And finally, you walked around wearing clothes that even someone in middle school wouldn’t wear, so I got you some new kit."

Xander took a step and truly looked at his body. His body looked tall and proud, and all manly. It was weird.

"Oh. Wow, I look pretty good. Is there a magic clothes store I didn't know about?" he asked, confused.

Spike met his gaze, his borrowed brown eyes fierce. Xander wasn't used to seeing himself like that.

"Nothing wrong with you, pet," Spike growled. "All I did was improve on what was already there,” he finished with a sigh.

Xander's eyes widened. Spike bit back a smile, enjoying the adorable look of awe and confusion, even with the borrowed tough appearence Xander had.

"Holy hand grenade, you do have a crush on me," he babbled. "I mean, Clem said I, I mean you, had a crush on some guy, but I figured it would be someone all hot and cool and stuff, not me, but then you did all that cool stuff so I thought it might be me, but you know, then I figured there had to be another explantion with words and an elaborate plan to confuse me, possibly involving charts and graphs, but I dunno, maybe you do, you know.... Do you really have a thing for me?" he finally asked in a whisper.

Spike tensed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe I do. You got a problem with that?"

Spike watched, amused, as his body took on a slouching, bashful pose.

"Uh, no, not really," Xander whispered. Moving forward, Spike cupped Xander's face, searching the familiar blue eyes. When Xander didn't pull away, Spike moved in for a kiss.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I know that you're all... upset about Ethan, but that isn't the priority right now," Giles explained.

"But, he tried to kill the little bitty babies," Willow pouted.

"I had no idea the Mayor was planning that. Chaos is about effecting random change, not murdering innocents. I truly didn't know what he had planned," Ethan replied.   "Besides, children are fantastic for causing chaos; I want more of them, not fewer."

"Well, what about that demon tattoo you gave me?" Buffy demanded, her eyes hard.

Ethan shrugged.

"Right, sorry about that. I'll admit that was rather cowardly. My priority was saving my own skin, and I thought that a Slayer who's dodged a few prophecies could deal with a demon," he explained.

Buffy glared at him, looking between the surprisingly contrite chaos mage and her Watcher. And then she noticed something: Giles looked all... unstarchy. He wasn't tense, his eyes weren't crinkled or his brow furrowed. He looked relaxed, calm.

Buffy sighed, the anger leaving her body. "Fine. But if you hurt my Giles, I'll kill you," she declared.

"Thank you, Buffy," Giles said softly, touched by her tacit approval and threat of violence.

"Wait," Willow said. "You aren't upset or worried?"

"Yeah, but look at them. Giles is all... untweedy."

Buffy sat down and grabbed a cookie.

"But I'll be watching you, Ethan," Buffy said darkly. "Just not, you know, when you're all naked and doing stuff with Giles. That's just gross."

"I'll help you with the naked bits!" Anya offered.

The room fell silent as everyone looked at her bright, enthusiastic smile.

"I think you may be my second most favorite person in world," Ethan mused. "Well, third, after Giles and myself."

"That's bloody fantastic, can we please consider the subject closed now?" Giles asked.

Buffy, Willow and Tara murmured their agreement, while Anya simply refocused on her, well, Giles's money.

"Now, the reason I called you here is because of some rogue magic," Giles explained.

Anya frowned, looking up from the daily sales totals.

"No offense, Giles, but the number one suspect is right here," she pointed out.

"True. But this magic was very uncontrolled, chaotic in the sense that the caster was an amateur. And it was direct magic, not a random spell intended to effect an many people as possible. Its far too small of a scale for Ethan. It happened two nights ago."

Buffy's eyes widened.

"Two nights ago?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Xander moaned into the kiss as Spike grabbed his hips and pulled them closer together. Pulling away, Spike shoved Xander against the wall.

Xander looked at Spike.

"Wow, this is weird, very, very weird," he muttered, watching as his own body rocked against him. "Weird, but hot."

"Weird? Come on, Xan. You've seen me naked," Spike teased. Leaning forward, he began to suck on the pale skin of Xander's temporary neck. "It'll be just like jacking yourself off, only you'll get to see yourself come."

Spike shot him a mischievous grin before sliding a hand down to Xander's crotch. Rubbing Xander through the jeans, he watched as the teenager dropped his head against the wall. He quickly shoved the tee shirt out of way before undoing the jeans Xander wore.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. "Um, what about that demon that Spike killed? Maybe it did something," she suggested.

Giles shook his head. "No, this was something else. Grumpdanashka demons don't use magic. They have heightened senses, so the materials needed for spell work irritate them."

"Well, maybe the spell isn't a big deal," Buffy offered hopefully.

Giles pondered this, then shook his head.

"No, the magic was directed at someone or something, and it was pretty powerful. Whatever it did, it did something."

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike stared, entranced at the sight of Xander whimpering, fingers clutching at Spike's chest. Even occupying someone else's body, Xander was himself, his emotions clearly displayed on his face.

Moving closer, Spike fused their mouths together once again, stroking Xander's tongue with his own. In all honesty, the pronoun confusion was beginning to drive Spike mad, but he didn't care. If he had to spend the rest of his life alone, it would be worth it just for this memory of reducing Xander into a whimpering puddle of need.

Xander moved away to suck in an unneeded breath, rubbing his body against Spike. He absorbed Spike's warm and gave himself over the pleasure from the sheer friction of that warm hand on his dick.

"Spike, please," he whimpered, staring at him with a hooded gaze.

"Anything for you, pet," Spike husked, pressing their mouths together again.

Xander's hands dropped to Spike's crotch, fumbling in his attempt to open Spike's pants. After a moment's struggle, he finally succeeded.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Do you think we should try a reveal spell?" Willow asked.

"We could," Giles said, "though we would need to take precautions in case the spell caster has ill intentions."

Buffy shifted nervously in her seat. "Maybe they don't have bad intentions. I mean, it's the Hellmouth, there are a lot of magic users here. Maybe they're just, like, recreational magic users, playing around."

"While that is true, Buffy, this was random magic. This magic had a substantial effect and the caster had strong natural abilities," Giles explained. "We should begin preparations for the reveal spell; it's the only way to find out what exactly happened."

"I'll go get Xander," Buffy said quickly, before running into the training room.

Exactly 2.6 seconds later, Buffy ran from the room. "Oh come on!" she yelled. "Is everyone but me having sex?!"

"What on Earth..." Giles started, trailing off as Spike and Xander wandered out of the training room. Their clothes were mussed as they buttoned up their shirts and pants, their lips red.

"Oh Goddess, not again," Willow whined, dropping her head onto the table. Giles began cleaning his glasses.

“Hope you boys used lube," Ethan teased.

"Don't worry about; I always enjoy a bit of pain with my sex," Spike replied.

“What about the chip?" Anya asked. "Shouldn't the inherent pain of anal sex set it off?”

Silence reigned for several long seconds before Xander spoke.

“Oh yeah. I forgot. Last night these frat guys were beating up on some kid, so I scared them. But when they decided to jump me, I hit one on instinct. Didn’t hurt, so I guess it's broken.”

Spike whooped loudly while punching his fist into the air.

"That's bloody fantastic!" he yelled, grabbing Xander’s face and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Xander, why are you talking like Spike?" Willow asked.

"B-because he is Spike," Tara whispered.

Everyone froze before the room erupted into chaos.

"Wait wait wait wait wait!" Anya yelled. Marching over to Spike, she frowned at him. "So you're Spike and you're the one who broke up with me?"

Spike shrugged. "Sorry, but you didn't seem to fancy him that much."

Anya glared at him before turning to Xander.

"So you're Xander?"

"Yeah," Xander said meekly.

"Well I'm sorry, but I can't date you again," she said with a delicate sniff. "I met someone last night and he's very sweet and enjoys giving me orgasms. He also has a very large penis."

Xander's eyebrows rose. "Really? Who?"

"Clem."

Xander's eyes bugged, while Spike snickered.

Buffy looked at Giles.

“Okay, ignoring Anya talking about sex, are we freaking out about this no chip thing?”

Giles sighed. "Well, if Spike had truly wanted to kill us, he would have done it while in Xander's body, instead of... courting him. I don't believe he'll be a threat if he does view us as his clan."

"But what happened to it?" Willow asked.

"Well, magic and technology don't mix," Ethan mused. "It's possible that when their essences were switched, the energy of the magic could have effected it. Possibly even the spell itself destroyed it."

"Okay, so now that this is all out in the open, can we fix it?" Xander asked.

Willow frowned.

"Sorry, Xander," she apologized. "But we don't know what spell it is. It could be a spell that runs out on it's own. We need to know what the spell is before we go messing around with it."

"But Willow," Xander whined, "I wanted to start my job tomorrow."

"And I wanted to punch Willy," Spike pouted. "He's been asking for it for a while now. And I wanted to smack around the guy that's been hitting on Dawn."

Buffy looked between them. They were standing close together. And as obvious as the effect of Ethan on Giles was, the effect of Spike on Xander was more so. Xander was standing straight, and despite the embarrasment he had to be feeling, he looked happy.

"I did it," she admitted.

"Er, did what, Buffy?" Giles asked.

"The spell! It was me. I was sick of them squabbling all the time and I kind of figured they were total friendage material. I mean, they both love snack foods, British comedy and have a hatred of Angel," she explained.

"What a ponce," Spike grumbled.

"Really? I prefer the term 'brooding asshat' myself," Xander offered.

"See!" Buffy said, pointing at the two of them. "They're all matchy."

"Buffy," Giles said, he voice low, "I need you to recall the exact spell you used."

Buffy dashed up the stairs and retrieved the book, then returned to the table. She flipped through the pages roughly, ignoring the way Giles winced at her treatment of the old tome, before stopping on the right page.

"Here Giles, this is the one I used," she said, handing it over.

Giles read over it, then started laughing.

"What was your purpose in casting this?" he asked once his laughter had subsided.

"To get them to understand each other," she said, her voice going up at the end while she blushed.

"Ah. Well, this is actually a spell designed for subterfuge and the gathering of intelligence, to gain knowledge, not understanding. But unlike the magic Faith used to switch your essences, this wears off after a week," Giles explained. "But I think this has established a new rule for you, Buffy. After you break this spell, no more magic for you."

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 4/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:49:57Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 4/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * * *
Giles pulled away, his body thrumming with excitement. To say the least, he had been surprised when Ethan had pressed their lips together. Sure, Giles had experienced feelings for him when they were younger, but he had long since repressed those. But at the touch of Ethan’s firm, smooth lips, the heady lust from his youth had filled him once again.

“What was that for?” Giles asked, blinking the tumult of emotions back into submission.

Ethan’s lips curled into that wry, seductive smile that heated Giles’ skin. “For old times sake. Listen, here’s a book. Think of it as payment for any books… or services, that you give me. You can read it or not; I don’t care. Just make sure your little ones don’t run across it.” Ethan placed a large volume into Giles’ hands. With a last caress of Giles’ hand, Ethan released the book and left the Magic Box.

Clearing his throat, Giles dropped his eyes to the weighty tome: Tantric Magic. “Good lord.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Xander left Spike’s crypt at sundown and headed straight for the Magic Box. Every scent hit him like a Mack truck, and everything seemed so clear in twilight. Xander reveled in the joys of vampire senses, in clearly seeing individual leaves on trees yards away. To his right, he heard a slight rustling of bushes and watched, horrified, as a tall, grey demon emerged.

“Spiiike,” it wheezed. “You stole it, you have insulted our honor. It is ours….”

“Your what? Your precious?” he shot back. Wow, sarcasm sounds a lot better with the English accent.

“Our chalice,” it sneered.

“Wait, do you want the chalice from the palace with the brew that is true, or the flagon with the dragon with the pestle of poison?”

“What?” it growled, the deep sound resonating in Xander’s borrowed chest as the beast moved quickly. Fear tightening his stomach, Xander jumped back, landing six feet away.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, eyes wide, staring at the distance that now separated him and the beast. Another snarl drew him out of his shock. The demon once again charged, but it seemed slower. To Xander, it looked like the demon was running towards him through water. I’m a vamp. So is this is how vamps see everything? Wow. Studying the creature, he saw the blade it was trying to conceal in its right hand. Preparing himself for the attack, he waited. The demon stopped in front of him, and struck out with its left fist. Smirking, Xander ducked the punch, then jumping away as the demon tried to use the blade.

Moving with speed that would have stunned Xander (had he not been dealing with a strong surge of adrenaline), he threw three bone-crunching punches before weaving away. Mimicking the movements he’d watched Spike perform, he surged forward, delivered several strong hits, and then danced away from the enraged creature before it could hit back. As the fight continued, his understanding grew. Somehow, being able to see as well and as quickly as a vampire allowed Xander to analyze the movements of his opponent, studying how it moved, how it attacked. Fighting was a lot more enjoyable when you could figure out what the hell was going on.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike stopped in front of the Magic Box, cautious. He didn’t know what to expect if Xander was already there. Would they attack him? Hit him? Stake him while in their friend’s body? Taking a necessary breath, he opened the door an entered. Anya sat at the research table, talking with Buffy, and Willow.

Buffy turned towards him, a wide, amazed smile on her face.

“Hey Xan, how- Wow, nice look!”

Willow observed him with the same surprise, but it was centered in her resolve face. “Wow Xander, you look good. I mean, you looked good before but-. Xander, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong?” Spike echoed, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I mean, you dumped Anya, got new clothes, a new haircut and quit your job. Is something wrong?”

“Um, no. Hey, where's Tara?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. Willow frowned.

"She had a study group and don't you try to change the subject, Mister," she commanded.

“Are you absolutely certain there isn’t something… bothering you?” Giles added.

“I agree that something is wrong. While I understand that breaking up was good for our futures, I do think all this change is very strange, Xander,” Anya added.

Shit. Spike had been prepared to flee, not explain. Thinking quickly, he spoke. “The argument that Spike and I had last night, well, some of the stuff made sense. I don’t like my life as it is, so I decided to change it. At least that way he won’t have so much to tease me about.”

“Oh.” Spike heard it in surround sound, watching the heads nod in unison. Swallowing his fear, he tried to act Xander-natural.

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t count on that saving you from Spike’s barbs,” Giles pointed out. “Despite his legendary impatience, he is a rather keen observer of human- well, and demon- nature. He is incredibly bright.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Spike threw in. “Always kind of surprised me that we could beat him.”

Buffy snorted. “Not really. He may be all evil geniusy, but he has no patience.”

“Well as titillating as this discussion is, there are rumors of Vorlack demon with a blood chalice in town,” Giles added. Spike coughed mid-inhalation. The sensation of needing to breathe was still new enough that the reminder of his latest poker winnings caught him off guard. Spike sat down at the table with the rest of the Scoobies. As they were preparing to get down to researching… again, Dawn walked through the door, laden with school books. Outside, they could hear tires squealing as a Geo Metro that was sporadically covered in duct-tape took off.

“Dawnie, what are you doing here?” Buffy asked, concerned.

"Mom had a meeting tonight, so Janice and I went to get a burger. And now you get to take me home," she smiled.

"Okay, so who drove you?" Buffy pressed.

“Janice’s brother, Kyle.”

“The drug addict?”

“He’s not a drug addict, he’s just in a band,” she countered.

“Well lots of band people do drugs and stuff,” Buffy argued.

“Oz didn’t do drugs,” Willow pointed out. “Although Devon did, he was a total pot head, which explains why he went out Cordelia-.”

“What happened to Xander?” Dawn interrupted. She really didn’t want to have that conversation… again.

“Xander experienced a personal crisis. He broke up with me, quit his job, left the basement, and got a makeover. But he said we can still have orgasms together,” Anya explained. As Dawn stared, slack-jawed, Anya grabbed a clipboard and headed into the back of the store.

Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we need to research, um, a demon of some sort. To fight.”

“Anyone willing to help me fight a demon named ‘algebra?’” Dawn interjected with a hopeful smile.

Everyone except Spike bustled around and found other things to do. Giles went behind the counter to organize books. Buffy went to the training room, while Willow went to the upper level to check on some spell books. Dawn sat down next to Spike and opened up her algebra book, pinning him with her best pout. Spike didn’t say anything, merely sighed; he was good at math and she needed his help. Halfway through the first problem, they realized that they needed a calculator. Spike got up and sauntered to the cash register, and grabbed the calculator. He sat back down, and noticed that Dawn had an odd look on her face.

“Xander, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“But you’re walking all different. And you hate algebra, why are you helping me?”

“Lay off, I’m fine Bit,” Spike said. He immediately regretted his choice of words as he saw the shocked look in Dawn’s eyes. Over the past couple years, he's started to swing by Joyce's house to kill lurking vamps and have a bit of hot chocolate. Sometimes, Dawn would be awake and Joyce had allowed her daughter to get close to Spike. Spike loved the little girl's irreverent and strange sense of humor, while she loved Spike's honesty and willingness to tell her the truth no one else would.

"S-Spike?” Dawn stuttered. Spike groaned.

“Shit. Yeah Niblet, it’s me. Just don’t go yelling that too loud,” he whispered, glancing at Giles.

“What happened?”

“I have absolutely no idea. But, since I’m in Xander’s body, it’s safe to assume-“

“That Xander is in your body. Wow. So, you did all this for Xander?” Dawn asked in awe, her eyes getting misty at the romantic nature of Spike's actions.

“Yeah. Felt bad for the tosser,” he smirked with false machismo. “Figured I could have some fun that wouldn’t end in him killing me when get switched back.” Dawn just grinned at him.

“You love him don’t you?”

“What? No,” he whispered harshly.

“You like Xander, you like Xander!” she taunted.

Growling he started cursing. Then seeing the small smile on her lips, he sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, only to people who know how you loved Dru and know what to look for. I mean, whenever he enters the room, your whole face seems to light up with glee. No one else seems to notice, or else they just think it’s with malicious glee," she explained thoughtfully. "So, what are you going to do to prove your love?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing? This is all for him. I even got him a new job at a construction company. Yeah, he’ll have to start at the bottom, but starting pay is twice what he was making at the other job. I got him a nice apartment, and I managed to break up with Anya in a way that won’t have her after his knackers,” Spike finished righteously, before moaning. "God, I'm turning into a poofter."

“Oh my God that is so sweet!” she squealed. Two sets of eyes swung towards the giddy teenager.

“Are you alright, Dawn?” Giles asked. The girl smiled, a chill going down Spike’s spine.

“Uh, yeah. I’m just excited because Xander just promised to take Janice and me to a Backstreet Boys concert.”

Spike’s eyes widened in terror as he sputtered, “Now wait….”

Dawn faced him again, smiling. “You promised, didn’t you, Xander?” Sighing in defeat, he nodded.

"You’re evil, Bit,” he whispered.

Dawn simply smiled. “Well, I learned from the best.”

Trying to hide paternal pride from his smile, Spike turned back towards the algebra text. “So, what’s the problem here?”

“The part with the numbers and letters.”

* * * * * * * * * *

With a triumphant roar, Xander snapped the vampire’s neck, twisting so far and hard that the head separated from its torso, blowing away in a cloud of dust.

“Yes!” he cried, pumping his now-empty hands into the air. He didn’t know how long he’d been hunting, but in that time he’d killed two demon, nine vampires, and had chased off six frat boys, ridges at the fore. He’d intended to beat the hell out of them for teasing some you kid in an X-Files tee shirt, but remembered in time that Spike’s body was chipped. So he’d settled for chasing them down the street, reveling in the sweet, pungent smell of their fear, calling out taunts as they wet themselves. Literally.

Finally, when Sunnydale seemed quiet enough, he remembered his reason for vacating the crypt. Running towards the Magic Box, he arrived in time to see Anya heading towards her car.

“Hey, Anya!” he called as he jogged towards her from across the street.

“Oh, hello Spike.” Quickly, she unlocked her door and threw her purse on the passenger seat. Waiting for her to turn around, Xander saw the boxes of belongings in her backseat.

“Um, Anya, what’s all that stuff in the back?”

“Oh, Xander broke up with me today so I’m taking my things from the basement.”

"He what?!” Xander has expected cruel jokes from Spike, perhaps multiple citations for exposing himself in public, but this, this was....

“And then he quit his job and moved out of his basement,” she rambled, getting into her car.

“WHAT?!” Xander knew vampires couldn’t have aneurysms or heart attacks, but he felt close. He stood open mouthed in shock as Anya started her car and drove off. He was going to kill Spike- as soon as he found him. What is he doing to my life? Who the Hell does he think he is? Well, besides me! Xander ranted internally as he stalked toward the Magic Box. He was so deep in his thoughts that he completely missed the fact that he was coming very close to some of the frat boys that he had chased off. It seemed that they wanted retribution.

Xander felt a hand on his shoulder, and didn’t even stop. He reached for the hand, and threw the offender over his shoulder. He quickly started to throw punches, and as soon as the guy was knocked out, Xander took a good look and realized that it was one of the drunk frat boy. Why can I beat up humans? I’m not supposed to be able to hurt humans; I’m a chipped vampire. Something weird is going on. Xander quickly resumed his path to the Magic Box, hoping that everyone was still there.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike and Dawn had long since finished Dawn’s homework, and were now helping research. Spike walked over to the cash register to replace the calculator, and noticed a book hidden under some paperwork. Spike picked up the book, and noticed the title; Tantric Magic.

Now, wonder where the Old Watcher got a copy of this, Spike wondered. He caught Giles’ eye, and waggled his eyebrows at him, and then laughed as Giles began to blush. Spike was about to make a lewd comment when he heard the ringing of the bell above the door. He looked up to see Xander walk in. He saw the look in Xander’s eye when he caught sight of Spike. Xander looked shocked.

My hair! My clothes, oh God, my bank account, what-.

“Spike, what do you want?” Buffy asked, interrupting Xander’s internal freaking.

“I’m outta blood,” Xander growled.

“And you’re here because …” Buffy said.

“Remembered that G, I mean Giles, had some left in his apartment. Uh, flat.”

“Yes, yes. Xander, please take Spike over to my place so he can get some blood.”

Xander and Spike both stared at Giles when he said this, Xander smiling, Spike horrified.

“WHAT?”

“Oh, come on. It won’t be that bad. You’ve done it before,” Dawn replied with a sneaky smile.

“Yeah, Xander. It’s no big deal. Just take him over, let him get his blood, and then take him to his crypt,” Buffy said.

“Nope, can’t do it. ‘Sides, isn’t there a demon you guys are looking for?” Spike asked.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” Buffy said brightly. She approached Xander and grabbed his arm.

“Here, we need you to look at these pictures. There’s some demon with a goblet that’s been tearing up pawn shops in town.”

Gritting his teeth, Xander followed Buffy to the table. Looking down, he saw a picture of the demon he’d killed earlier that night.

“It’s no problem, Slayer. I already killed it tonight," he said, smiling proudly. "Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to get my blood.” Turning around, he faced the counter where Spike had been standing. Only he wasn’t there.

“Where’d he go?” Xander asked. Outside, a roar could be heard. Dawn, who’d been watching Spike’s escape, asked another question.

“When did he get a motorcycle?"

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 3/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:48:08Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 3/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * * *
Whistling, Spike left the basement (dressed in Xander's least-offensive garb) and immediately headed for the bank. The walk was enjoyable, the feeling of sun on his face for the first time in a hundred years sublime. Spike already had a plan in mind: while he was able to forge signatures fairly well, it would take a day or so to learn to forge Xander’s. That was unacceptable as the spell could wear off at any time. But with the new technology, one could easily shop using a debit card and PIN. So he directed his steps to the bank. As he reached the back, he smiled and opened the door for a little gray haired woman. It was easy enough; he simply showed them Xander’s license, claimed foregetfullness, and reset the bank PIN. His first stop was a men’s department store.

After going through Xander’s clothes, Spike had thrown most of it out. Xander shopped cheap, meaning thrift stores and clearence sales. So if it meant buying ugly shirts or oversized pants, it didn't matter. It had only been a few years since he’d first seen the Scooby, but Xander was now much larger, and not in a bad way. The boy had filled out and had gained some muscle since school, filling out his broad frame. And, as he’d discovered that morning, Xander had very little body fat. But he still hid himself in oversized clothing; he needed a new wardrobe- badly. Xander paid little attention to his appearnce, wrongly assuming that no one noticed.

Taking pity on Xan, Spike visited a mid-priced department store, instead of the leather clothing store or the designer men’s boutiques he knew to exist in Sunnydale. He took his time in the department store, making sure to pick out things that he knew would show Xander’s physique off; fitted jeans, tighter tee shirts, and a few tailored slacks and dress shirts. He even purchased clothing appropriate for construction work.

He ended up putting a small dent in Xander’s savings, but it was worth it. Xander now had clothes that fit, and he looked pretty damn good in them. He would no longer walk around looking like a little boy playing dress up in his father’s clothes. Spike left the department store wearing a beautifully tailored pair of charcoal trousers and matching suit jacket, paired with a deep red button-up shirt. Spike had already called around, getting job interviews for Xander. His clothes were interview appropriate, but not overly dressy. Spike was determined to get Xander a better job. But first, he had one more stop to make.

Spike opened the door, and felt the blast of cool air. He heard the chatter coming from the many different stations in the salon. He stepped up to the receptionist’s desk and waited patiently.

“Can I help you?”

“Only if you know someone who can help with the disaster on my head,” Spike said with a devastating smile. The middle-aged woman blushed. Xander had never noticed the power of his deep brown eyes and charming, open smile, but Spike sure as hell had.

Without looking awayt from the attractive young man, she yelled out “Hey Andre, you busy?” A deep voice responded from the back of the shop.

“Yeah, got a walk in. But Liz is free.”

“Hey Liz, didn’t you have a 10 am?” the receptionist called towards the chairs.

A cheery voice replied from the back. “Yeah, but she cancelled. Why, you got something to replace it?”

“I got a tall, dark, and handsome here in need of some help,” the receptionist said with a smile. Instead of the blush Xander would have given, Spike smirked.

“Send him on back."

Spike followed the voice to the back of the salon, and came face to face with a girl who could have been his twin sister- not Spike Xander, but Spike Spike. She stood about 5’7” with shoulder length bleach blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. She was all in black, along with black Doc Martens. Her clothing had enough style to look neat and professional, but enough style to assure Spike that she wasn’t an empty-headed, teeny-bopper bint who’d turn Xander into a Backstreet Boy.

“What can I do you for?” Liz asked, honestly meaning the ‘do you’ part.

Spike sat down in the chair. “I need a new look, and I put my hair in your hands.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, left eyebrow raised.

“It can’t be any worse than it is now, right? Just don’t shave it all off or change the color. And if at all possbile, try to keep some curls” Liz studied the unruly mop of brown hair, running her fingers through it.

“All I can do is shape and improve. The curls and waves are nice. It would be a shame to loose them.” Spike smirked

“Yeah, I’d hate to loose these gorgeous curls."

Spike let Liz work her magic. He wasn’t really paying attention as she turned him away from the mirror. He was figuring out his next plan of action. His demonic real estate agent had agreed to arrange a low move-in cost. But he still needed to get Xander a good job so that he could afford the rent on the apartment that he wanted to get the boy into. He also needed to get this done by sundown, because he was pretty sure that Xander would be on the prowl for him as soon as the sun set. Liz tapped him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“I’m done here if you want to take a look.” Spinning the chair around, Spike braced himself for the worst.

Spike braced himself, and opened his eyes. Xander looked almost exactly the same way he did on Parent Teacher Night, the night that Angel had tried to offer Xander to him as a gift. The hair was neater, giving the boy a more mature look. But the waves and curls remained, giving Xander an easygoing air. I It was perfect.

“Thanks for the help,” he smiled. Standing, he reached for Xander’s wallet.

“Not a problem. Come back in about 6 weeks to keep it looking good. I promise I’ll always find a way to squeeze you in,” she said with a wink.

Spike stepped out of the salon after paying, and took a breath of fresh air. He walked through town and bought a sandwich from a café. He took the time to sit and enjoy his lunch before going to the first interview, sitting outside and soaking up the sun for the first time in a hundred years.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Well hello to you too, Ripper. Long time, no see.” Giles sighed.

“Again Ethan, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just pass through and say ‘hi’ to an old friend,” Ethan said with a sly smile.

Understanding showed on Giles’ face as he forced down the tendril of longing in his stomach. “You’re the one who opened the rare book store.”

“Got it in one.” Giles sighed.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought you might have some books that you’d want to sell me. I am willing to offer you a very rare book in return for... anything you are willing to offer me,” Ethan said with a grin, slowly raking his eyes up and down Giles’ body. “After all, I am honest a business man now.”

“How did you get away from the Initiative?” Giles suddenly asked, diverting the conversation. Loving Ethan had been the headiest experience of his life; leaving him had been the worst. Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, grinning at the obvious subject change.

“I was still in that lab when it was torn apart from the inside. At that point things were so out of control that very few… tests… were still being done. So when the facility practically imploded, I was able to escape. And after some time to heal and take stock of my resources, I decided to pay a visit to my dear old friend.”

“What do I have to do?” Ethan raised his eyebrows at the sudden defeat in Giles’ voice.

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Well you’re obviously here for revenge, and I’m assuming you wish for something in return to prevent you from turning me into a demon, trying to kill Buffy, or otherwise releasing violent chaos on those I hold dear.”

"Please, Ripper. If I were going to cause trouble, it would have already started, although I might cause some mild chaos among the teens.”

“What, you mean like trying to sacrifice infants again?”

Ethan frowned as his eyes widened. “What? Come on old man, you remember the good old days. It’s about creating chaos, neither good nor bad. I don’t sacrifice babies.”

Clinging to the anger he felt at the memory of what had nearly happened that night, Giles pressed forward. “You took payment from the mayor for that chocolate. The chaos was a distraction so he could kidnap the infants and sacrifice them to a demon.”

A rare look passed over Ethan's face: honest shock. “Fucking hell, I didn’t know that. He mentioned some theft, I though it was money or artifacts. Not babies.”

“Yes, well now you know. So please leave before you’re discovered and torn apart.”

“Are you really so eager for me to leave?” Ethan asked, a cocky smile on his lips at odds with the sadness in his eyes.

"Yes, because if you stay and cause more trouble, I’ll be forced to kill you this time.”

“Don’t worry old man, I plan to leave your brood alone. Besides, being cut open by scientists makes a man think about his life.” Giles grimaced at the words “cut open.” “So I’ve decided to come and get what I want. But I’m not going to play around this time.”

Giles drew himself to his full height, tensed and prepared for an attack. “What do you want? Money? Or are you just going to go ahead and kill me like you’ve wanted to for the past decades?”

“My dear Rupert. As you said, it’s been decades. I’m not angry anymore. All the anger is gone. And I never wanted to kill you. But I am done using childish pranks to gain your attention.” Ethan paused, a smirk on his lips as he swaggered over to Giles. Pressing himself against the former Watcher, he continued. “And as for what I want, I think that would be obvious. I want what we had all those years ago."

Leaning down, Ethan pressed their mouths together, pouring in all the longing and passion he'd accumlated over the decades. With a moan, Giles surrendered to the kiss.

* * * * * * * * * *

Xander stretched and stood. After six hours of court programs, Oprah, and soap operas, he was bouncing off the walls. His skin was tingling, making him even more anxious. At six, the sun was close to setting. Crossing over to the CD player, he hit ‘play.’ Screams and thrashing guitars blared out; at first it made his ears cringe, but after a while, he started bouncing to the music.

”'Cause I wanna be Anarchy
It's the only way to be
Is this the M.P.L.A or
Is this the U.D.A or
Is this the I.R.A
I thought it was the UK
Or just another country
Another council tenancy.”

He suddenly stopped as a heartbeat neared the crypt. Damn, this vamp hearing rocks! He grabbed an ax and listened. The beat seemed slow compare to how his human heart beat. Ready to attack, he hid in the corner as the hatch to the stairs opened.

“Spike? You there? It’s me, Clem.” Sighing in relief, Xander stepped forward.

“Hey… buddy,” he offered. Just how did Spike talk to his friends? “What’s going on?”

“Ah, not much,” the demon replied, climbing down the stairs. “But I got your blood. Willy isn’t too mad, and the Karttny demons are leaving town, so it should be okay for you to go back soon.”

“Oh, great.” Grinning, Clem held out the paper bag, a smile of child-like glee on his saggy face. Xander eyed him suspiciously.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, but um.... Okay, I thought you needed a pick-me-up, so I used some of my money to buy you a bag of human.”

“Oh, really, uh, thanks Clem. Mate.” Xander smiled, taking the bag from him. Peering inside, he chuckled and removed the bag on top with the red bow on it. “Nice, mate. Very nice.”

“Are you okay, Spike? You’re acting all weird,” Clem observed, furrowing his saggy brow.

“Yeah, great.”

“Right.” Sighing, Clem started back up the ladder. At the top, he called down. “Look Spike, we’ve been over this. You really care about him, but you don’t really know how he feels about you. You won’t know if your feelings are reciprocated until you ask him.”

Xander, who had been studying and sniffing the bag of human blood, quickly looked up. “Ask him? Him? Wait, who’s him?” he yelled. But the only response he got was the slamming of the crypt door.

Shaking his head, he opened the bag and poured it into the mug. He? Spike likes a guy? Weird. Shrugging, he ignored the jolts of excitement he felt at the idea of Spike kissing another man and turned on the hot plate. Sitting on the bed, he pulled on the boots. Suddenly, he sniffed, then sniffed again. Leaping to his feet, he jerked the mug off of the hot plate. He felt his mouth water and groaned. The smell was heavenly. He drank it quickly, moaning. For his vampire mouth, human blood was better than chocolate, Twinkies, or even donuts.

Pig’s blood really sucks, he thought, feeling more satisfied than he thought possible. Setting the mug down, he pulled on Spike’s duster and climbed the stairs. He needed to get to the Magic Box.

* * * * * * * * * *

Lyrics are from the song “Anarchy in the U.K.” by Sex Pistols.

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 2/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:45:43Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 2/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * *

Spiked groaned, waking slowly. It was too early, probably no later than eight a.m.

Why the fuck am I awake? Oh, that noise. What’s that noise? Slowly, he opened his eyes, before slamming into full consciousness. He wasn’t in his crypt- he was in the Basement of Doom.

“Turn the alarm off,” came the whine. Looking to his right, he saw- Anya? Shaking his head in hopes of clearing it, he stared.

“Anya?” The former vengeance demon snarled, opening her eyes.

“What? Are you going to turn of the alarm Xander?”

Xander?! Looking down, Spike saw his body was suddenly broad and tan. Leaping from the bed, he ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He leaned against the door, panting.

Okay, so I’m in Xander’s bedroom, in his bed. He looked down. Have his body. He smirked, running his, well, Xander's, but currently his, fingers down his body. Well well, young Xander has a nice body, and by the looks of things, he certainly isn't a boy anymore. A shiver of desire ran down his spine; sure he was suddenly in someone else’s body, but that didn’t stop him from getting hard at the knowledge that this was what Xander looked like naked. As he faced his reflection in the mirror, he was vaguely aware of Anya yelling at him while she turned off the alarm clock.

“Xander, you have to go to work in an hour! Remember, it's Saturday so you work at the restaurant all day. Oh, do you have time for more orgasms?”

Spike grinned, watching as Xander’s lips curled. Work, eh? Bloody Burger Barn. The boy- Xander, could do a hell of a lot better than that. Ideas flooded Spike’s brain and the possibilities were far too interesting for him to pass.

Jerking the door open, he quickly found and pulled on a pair of Xander’s boxers. Ignoring Anya’s questions, he jogged up the stairs and into the house. Listening carefully, he surmised that the fighting Harris’s were asleep. Quietly he made his way to the kitchen. He picked up the phone and dialed information.

“Sunnydale. I need the number for the Burger Barn.” As the operator searched, Spike smiled. No accent- he sounded just like the Scooby. Memorizing the number given, he hung up and then called the Burger Barn.

“Hey, this is Xander Harris. Can I talk to the manager?” He waited while the teenager with the cracking voice searched for the boss.

“Yeah, this is Don. What’s wrong Harris, another friend in the hospital? Or did you get jumped by hobos again? Either way, you’re not getting any time off so what the hell are you calling for?” Spike could hear the arrogant smirk in the manager’s voice. Suppressing a growl, he spoke.

“No. Just decided I’m tired of working of a tight assed idiot like yourself. I’m well-worth a better job; you don’t deserve me. I quit.”

“Yeah, like a dumb shit like you could-.”

“Fuck off, Don.” Spike slammed the phone into the cradle, then whistled as he walked back downstairs. He had a lot of work to do.

* * * * * * * * * *

The road was filled with mist. He could see nothing to his left or his right, the fog an impermeable shroud, hiding all from Xander’s sight. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, but he kept walking. As he was walking, he passed Spike.

“What’s back that way?” Spike asked.

“Psycho girlfriend, psycho parents, lame–ass, stupid jobs. What’s back that way?”

“About a century of blood and killing, not to mention raping and pillaging, along with being deserted by all I’ve ever loved.”

“Creepy, yet somehow interesting.”

He turned and watched as Spike disappeared into the mist. Xander continued to walk, until he reached a dark area devoid of mist, a black and shapeless void. There was no where for him to go, nothing to do. So instead of searching for an exit, he simply dropped to the ground and sat. Somewhere in his life he’d given up, embracing the mediocre existence he figured was the destiny on the Harris family. He didn’t really have anything to fight to improve; he cared about Anya, but he didn’t see them going anywhere. Sooner or later she’d tire of him and move on.

A sudden foreboding drew him out of his morose thoughts. He looked up to find Spike crouched in front of him. Xander tried to speak, but Spike put his finger to his lips, stopping the babble that would have flowed. Gently, the vampire cupped Xander’s face with one hand, running his thumb over Xander's cheek. Xander's breath caught in his chest; the touch was so gentle, and Spike's eyes showed nothing but adoration.

Then the blond leaned forward and pressed his lips to Xander’s. The kiss was sweet and calm, with Spike's lips caressing his. Then a cool tongue flicked against Xander's lips. The human opened his mouth and met Spike's tongue with his own. Suddenly, Spike shoved him away. The Scooby landed on his back. He nervously watched the vampire still crouched at his feet. Spike's lips curved in a gentle smile that didn’t match the wicked gleam in the blue eyes. Skimming his hands up the jean-clad legs, Spike made his way up to Xander’s waist. He easily unbuttoned his pants, then leaned forward to nuzzle Xander's stomach. Spike raised his eyes, pinning Xander with his gaze, before using his teeth to unzip the fly.

A sudden spark of panic hit; Xander made a motion to sit up, but Spike used his unnatural speed and pushed Xander back down, plastering their lips together. Xander's lips parted without prodding, and he gasped as Spike devoured his mouth. He quickly fell into the kiss and forgot everything but the feel of the cool tongue sliding against his. Spike’s hands made their way down his body, tracing Xander's muscles before sliding into the boy’s jeans. The vampire slid his cool fingers into Xander’s boxers, stroking the hardened length. Xander whimpered, the noise swallowed by Spike hungry kisses. The fingers tugging on him were talented, touching the most sensitive areas. Arching his back, he felt his balls tighten.

* * * * * * * * * *

Xander woke with a start, groaning. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the wet come sticking to his body and the sheets. Shit. Exhausted, he slowly opened his eyes. He immediately noticed that he wasn’t in his basement but in the basement of Spike’s crypt. What the hell am I doing here? Glancing over at the bedside table, he looked at the clock. Holy shit! It’s after noon! I’m so fired!

Jerking up into a sitting position, he winced. His body hurt; not too much pain but definitely a few bruised ribs. He looked at his arms; they seemed smaller, thinner. They had bruises all over them, and seemed paler. Did I get attacked by a vamp last night? He reached up to run a hand through his hair, he felt it plastered in place, crunchy from hair gel. Panic lodged in his throat and chest: a realization was surfacing, one that scared the hell out of him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Looking down, he raised the bed sheet. Eeep! That is not my penis! And I’m naked. Wow, I’m Spike, and Jesus, Spike really is the BIG Bad.

It was at that particular moment that everything sunk in. He was now in Spike’s body, which, if logic followed, would mean that Spike was in Xander’s body. Icy dread washed over him, deflating the erection that had mysteriously sprung up; Anya had been in his bed last night. What would Spike do to Anya? What would he do to his body? To his life?! He was now in a full-on panic; jumping out of bed and ignoring the various twinges of pain, he hurried over to the ladder and rushed up. Somewhere it registered that he was very naked and moving very fast . Throwing open the hatch, he saw the beam of sunlight right in front of him. He paused; he wasn’t breathing, so he was definitely a vampire. And having been a Scooby, he knew that vampires and sunlight were unmixy things.

Defeated, he went back downstairs and sat on the bed, groaning. He was hungry, very hungry. Studying the room, he noticed a small cooler in the corner. Standing, he went over and fished out a bag of blood. While his mind was revolted by the thought of drinking blood, his tummy was making happy rumbles of joy. Ripping open the bag, he poured the blood into a dented tin mug. A small hotplate rested by the cooler, plugged into an electrical outlet of dubious origin. All of it probably stolen, Xander thought. Walking over, he set the cup on the hotplate and turned it on. A few minutes later, the blood was warm.

“Well, here’s to being an evil, undead, blood-sucking fiend,” he toasted. He tossed the contents of the mug into his mouth. Gagging, he forced himself to swallow. The blood wasn’t maggoty-pork disgusting, but it tasted bitter, sour. It had a flatter taste compared to what he could recall of the taste of his own blood. After five years as a Scooby, he’d had enough busted lips to know what his own blood tasted like.

Yuck, pig's blood sucks. Must be the vampire senses; guess they do need human blood. Really isn’t that filling. Maybe I’ll get him some human for Christmas or something. If he doesn’t screw up my life too much.

Hunger satiated, he contemplated his circumstances. Xander put his hands on his head, and tried to think of what made this happen. No blind dates, not demon magic, no wierd cults... crap. He couldn’t think of a damn thing on his own, and he couldn’t leave until sunset. I’ll make a trip to the Magic Box tonight, and get Willow. Willow is smart, Willow is a witch, Willow will fix this. That decided, he sat in the bed and turned on Spike’s t.v. There were only soap-operas on, but it was better then nothing.

* * * * * * * * * *

“What do you mean, you quit?” came the outraged screech.

“Anya, the job at the Burger Barn was crap,” Spike replied, trying to hide his anger.

“What are you going to use when you buy me gifts and take me out to dinner?” she yelled, searching the room. During her lunch break at noon, she’d returned to the basement. She was looking for her earrings, but found Xander not at work, tossing clothing into garbage bags.

Spike froze mid-reach, stifling a growl. That bitch had no respect for Xander. All she ever expected out of him was sex and gifts. Xander can do so much better than her.

“Working two jobs was killing me. I can get a better job, Ahn. I’m really getting the hang of this construction stuff.”

“Xander, you hardly even got either of those jobs! You need money!”

“What, you don’t think I can get a better job?” Chewing her lip, Anya looked at him.

“Well, of course you can, sweety, but maybe you should keep this job while you look for another one,” she said sweetly.

“You don’t think I can,” he whispered, understanding dawning. She thought Xander was worth a minimum wage job and mindless toil, nothing more. His anger surged forward. “You think this is all I’m worth! If that's all I’m good for, what the hell are you doing with me? Just using me for ‘orgasms?’”

Anya’s eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “Xander, I don’t- I don’t know. All I know is that you treat me like you don’t care what I was and I like that. But I hate this! I hate not having power, I hate being helpless, and I hate being afraid of ending up poor and homeless!” Tears filled her eyes as her chin trembled. “I care about you Xander, and you care about me. Can’t we just keep things the way they are?”

Spike’s anger melted; even when he was jealous, he’d always respected Anya’s honesty. “No, I can't live like this any more. Do you love me?”

She sighed, brow furrowed in throught. “I- I think so, but I think its like they say in Cosmo; I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

“You’re human now Anya; you’re going to die someday. Do you really want to stay with me, or do you want to find someone who’ll love you?”

Her face paled slightly as her eyes darted around the room. “I guess someone who’ll love me,” she whispered. “So this is goodbye?”

“Yeah, it is.” Anya nodded sadly, approaching him. She enveloped Spike in a hug, before stepping away.

“Well, if you ever want to have orgasms together, you have my number.” That said, she turned and walked out the door. Spike watched her go before tossing the majority of the kid’s remaining clothes into the trash. He saved the novelty Star Trek and Star Wars shirts; he knew that he would eventually be forgiven for what he was going to do. But throwing away those shirts? He’d be staked for sure. Glancing around in disgust, he noticed a shoe-box marked “boring money stuff,” sitting on a bookshelf.
Spike grabbed it off the shelf and opened it. It was filled with bank statements and newspaper job clippings.

Huh, foreman, construction supervisor? Kid’s interested in that kind of work? He did some before, why the hell doesn’t he apply? Focusing on the bank statements, he observed that Xander actually had a good bit of money saved, probably hoping to find a place to live in. Slowly, a smirk that had one stricken fear into the hearts of Slayers, Watchers, minions and Nazis spread across his face.

He was owed a few favors by a Kilarian demon who was also a real-estate agent. She could probably get Xander a good place for a low deposit. He laughed; Xander wouldn’t recognize his life when he got it back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Giles unpacked some of the new merchandise. Anya was late coming back from her break, but she had mumbled something about going to Xander’s, and he certainly didn’t want to think too deeply on that. As he pulled out several books, he contemplated reducing the number of books for sale. According to the former vengeance demon, an antique bookstore was opening up in town, and Giles didn’t want to try to compete against a specialty shop. The bell rang as the door opened.

“Good afternoon, welcome-.” The words died on his lips as he looked up at the door. “What in the hell are you doing here Ethan?”

Spander Fic: Botched Spell, Part 1/6, ADULT

2009-10-09T22:39:32Z

Title: Botched Spell, Part 1/6
Author’s: cinderella81 and vinniebatman.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: We are not Joss Whedon, we are not Mutant Enemy. We don’t own these characters and make no profit from this story.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Buffy vs. Dracula” in season 5. According to canon, Xander worked on that one construction job in the episode “Pangs” in season four. A few episodes later he was delivering pizza, then worked fast food again, before returning to construction., but assumes Xander didn’t start working construction until sometime in season 5, before episode 3, “The Replacement.” So this may be fudging the timeline a wee bit, but please bear with us.
Summary: Buffy casts a spell to create understanding between Spike and Xander. But it’s the Hellmouth, so of course something wonky happens.
Feedback: Please read and review! Constructive criticism welcome!

All Parts Here

* * * * * * * * * *
It was after well after sunset, and Tara, Willow, Xander, and Giles were once again settled in the Magic Box. Empty pizza boxes littered the floor as the group worked their way through the dusty tomes that covered the research table. Xander sat behind a particularly large text dressed in his Burger Barn uniform, snoring softly as he mumbled in his sleep.

"No, no Master! I’ll be good, give me the spider… ew, it’s fuzzy." Giles sighed, looking over at Xander while preparing to remove and polish his glasses. He paused when he saw the text the teen’s head rested on.

"Xander!" he barked.

"Bator!" the former minion yelped, jerking awake. Willow giggled, then bit her lower lip and raised the Random House unabridged translated fifth edition complete text of Nostradamus’ prophecies to hide behind. Her head lowered, Tara snickered behind a curtain of hair.

"Xander," Giles continued, "The next time you’re going to fall asleep pretending to research, at least do so behind a book you can actually read."

Xander frowned. "Hey, I was reading it. See ‘Flor- flurgernstruln wo-worreeera caeringa behkai ruelinnschain link-letter? Linkletter? Are they talking about Art Linkletter?"

Sighing again, Giles snatched the book away from Xander’s attempts at sounding out. "Xander, you can’t read it. It’s in Ancient Polgaran."

"Oh." Xander nodded, then paused. "Wait, if it's not in English, then why was it in the 'read' pile?"

"Because Polgaran seers are not only quite prolific, but are also usually reliable. Luckily, it seems as though we’re almost done with the primary group of books. We can move onto the secondary."

"Giles, how do you divide the books up when we don’t even know what we’re looking for?" Willow asked, her head tilted to the side.

"Oh, yes, well, I’ve divided the prophecy books into separate categories based upon the reliability, usefulness, and their relation to the Hellmouth and all things Slayer related. I feel that a thorough, occasional search through these texts is always a good preventive measure."

"Okay, I got a lot of big words meaning we didn’t have to be here on a Saturday night. Is that right?" Xander asked, suppressing a yawn.

"Well, yes."

"Okay, I vote for leaving and sleeping. I have two jobs and a slightly nuts girlfriend that I need to pacify with gifts and…" he coughed, blushing slightly. "More gifts."

Willow and Tara smiled as Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them. "Quite right."

Xander shoved his chair away from the table and stretched, pausing at Buffy’s raised voice.

"Be nice Spike! We need to figure out what to do!" she yelled, her voice muffled by the door. The Scoobies turned toward the entrance as Buffy and Spike stomped in. Xander groaned inwardly. Aside from being evil, Spike was everything he wasn't. Including attractive, although that thought had long ago been pummeled and shoved into the "Do Not Open" box in the back of his mind.

"Be nice? You’re daft! Still evil here. 'Sides, I already know what to do."

"Yeah, neutered evil," Xander clarified with a saccharine grin. Spike froze, his face blank for a split-second before it shot a glare the teen's way.

"Shut up, bug-boy."

"Quiet! Now, what is going on?" Giles asked.

"Uh, oh, did the Bleached Blunder get shown up by the Slayer… again?" Xander asked.

"At least I have a fighting chance, Droopy. Even with the chip, I could still do more damage than you, the Worthless Wonder." Spike twisted his mouth into a nasty grin. "Only a matter of time before demon girl goes looking for greener pastures. Tell me, does she usually have to take things into her own hands to get her end off?"

"Oh that’s it, Blondie!" Xander shot up from his chair, grabbed the stake from his back pocket, and began to advance on Spike. Buffy was suddenly next to him, dragging him back and shoving him down into his seat. Xander frowned and crossed his arms.

"Remind me again why can’t I kill him?" Xander whined.

"Because," Buffy pouted, "According to the demon we saw, who apparently thinks that he's Mr. T., a vampire is the only one who can kill it. Besides, if any of us get to eventually kill him, it's me. He's tried to kill me more times than the rest of you, so it's only fair."

"What sort of demon did you face?" Giles asked, suddenly interested.

"Wait!" Xander interrupted hopefully. "Does this new demon mean we can stop all the nonessential research?"

"Yes, but now we get to research the demon Buffy and Spike ran into," Willow replied, excited.

"Looks like they won’t be needing your services then, Burger Boy," Spike smirked, sitting down at the table. "You’ll need to be able to read to help with this one."

Xander again started to rise but Buffy’s iron grip immediately forced him back down.

"Listen up Fangless; the only reason I don’t stake you is because Buffy asked me not to and she’s stronger, speaking of which, ow, that is going to bruise. Otherwise, I would so be sweeping you into a dustpan right about now." To emphasize his threat, Xander grabbed his stake and twirled it in his fingers before it suddenly clattered to the ground. Spike snickered.

"Quiet! Buffy, what demon did you encounter?" Giles asked.

"Well, I want to say it’s a Grumpy Danish Demon, but I know that’s totally wrong."

Spike burst out laughing. "It’s a Grumpdanashka demon and it hunts and kills its victims by sending out electrical impulses that stops hearts, then eats the brain."

"Wait, if it stops its victim’s hearts, then the only creature that can kill it…" Willow started, trailing off as she found her answer.

"Is one that is already deceased," Giles finished. "I've read something about them before; they may not be that bright, but they do have good reflexes and fighting skills."

"Well, why don’t you run along and go fight it, Spikey. Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll both die," Xander said. It was at this moment that Spike’s patience snapped.

"Well it’s not like you’ll stop it. What are you gonna do? Throw burgers at it? Trip it when you fall over your own feet?" he shouted indignantly, jumping to his feet. His sudden movement sent the chair across the floor. "I'm off. I'll go find it and kill it, so don't worry your empty little head about it, Burger Bitch."

"Spike, it’s seven feet tall," Buffy pointed out, slapping her hand over Xander's mouth. "Maybe you should wait until we get some more info."

"Oh shut your mouth Slayer. I’ve been killing demons-."

"Enough!" Giles roared. The other occupants, including Spike, jumped as the room went eerily silent. "Everyone go home. Spike, if you decide you want to go into this fight half-cocked, then go ahead; it’ll save us all having to research this damn thing. But be careful. And depending on the outcome, we’ll meet tomorrow night, either to research this demon, or to continue with the research we’ve been doing. Now go home."

Silently, everyone got up and left the Magic Box until the only people left were Buffy and Giles. Buffy sighed and sat down at the research table next to Giles.

"Well that was fun," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, yeah, Spike is still a pain, but since the whole Adam thing, he's been trying to at least prove he's reliable. He's even being nice . . . you know, for Spike."

"True, and he hasn't been demanding continual payment lately; it's become more of a monthly fee for his services. And after seeing Spike's interactions with Dawn this summer, I surmise he's started to view us as his clan."

Buffy frowned. "His clan? You think so?"

"Yes. Most vampires are communal creatures, seeking out the company of others."

"Yeah, I know."

"Through his mercenary works with us, he's been ostracized by the demon community. And without Drusilla, we're the closest thing he has to a family. Despite his complaining, he does seek us out. And in every family, there is tension."

"So that's why they're fighting like little kids?" she asked.

"Yes. I think that with Spike becoming a more permanent member of our group, they're jockeying for position. I think perhaps Xander feels threatened by Spike as he's become a member of our group. Even though we deeply care for Xander, Spike is usually more useful on patrol, which I believe deeply bothers Xander," Giles replied.

"Great. Do you think we should do something? I mean, is there anything we can do?"

"Short of magical silencing spells or lobotomies, I don’t think so. I feel it would be best to simply let them fight it out. Of course we will intercede if it comes to violence, but I’m sure they’ll eventually get past it. Hopefully. Until then, we’ll just keep an eye out and make sure they don’t kill each other."

"Right. On it. No Spike or Xander killage," Buffy sighed. Giles stood and put on his jacket before heading to the door.

"Are you ready, Buffy?" he asked, opening the front door. Buffy smiled.

"Nah. I’m still really wound up after the fight I didn’t get to have. I think I’m gonna go work out, relieve some frustration."

"Very well then. I, however, have spent the last four hours dealing with Xander’s complaining and Willow’s discussion of new computer cataloguing software; I am going home. Please do me a favor and remember to lock up for me."

"Got it. Night," Buffy said, watching Giles leave the Magic Box. She waited until he was gone before heading straight for the balcony, where Giles kept the old, powerful books he didn’t want sold to the public. Not only was the magic in them too powerful for beginners, but he didn’t fancy the idea of the spells being loose on the Hellmouth.

Reaching onto the first shelf, she pulled out a blue binder. Willow and Giles had compiled a reference list indicating which books had which spells. It made things easier since the majority of the books were in other languages.

If Willow can do fancy magic, a small spell should be a snap for the Slayer, Buffy thought. She began flipping through the pages, trying to find a spell that might help the Xander and Spike situation.

Let’s see…alienation, attention… okay, banishment… genocide spells? Creepy. Growth spells, ice spells, lab- LABIA? Oh my God, I don’t want to know. Hm… machination… nose enlarger? Could have used that one on Cordelia! Oh, peace spells! Okay, great. Wow, that’s a lot of spells. Hmm… "also see spells listed under calming, harmony, order, stability, or understanding." Okay, understanding. Wow, there’s a lot of understanding spells. Damn. This is harder than it looks. Understanding spells: eye-opening, sharing… oh! Imprisonment for understanding! Nah, they’d kill each other first. Okay, so sharing. Page 793, "Rector Ut Potentia Per Cassandra,*" shelf 3.

Buffy approached the third shelf, scanning for the book. Finding it, she flipped through the book to page 793. A yellowed page fluttered to the floor; she picked it up and studied it.

"Sweet, English directions! Okay, ‘Light two yellow candles, and read the primary spell. Then say the names of those involved. Then say the phrase "scientia, vox, penitus scientia" three times, in that order.’" She smiled before jogging down the stairs and grabbing two of the yellow magic candles on sale.

Setting them on the counter, she lit the wicks before clearing her throat and reading the spell.

"Scientia est lucrum per intelligendo!
A vox infinitus!
Nos dico super Aradia!
Ut tribuo nos is vires!
Spike called William the Bloody, Alexander Lavelle Harris!
Scientia, vox, penitus scientia!
Scientia, vox, penitus scientia!
Scientia, vox, penitus scientia!"**

Buffy held her breath, then pouted; nothing happened. Suddenly, a breeze picked up. Gentle, but insistent, it made the flames dance in unison. First to the left, then the right, before extinguishing them both. The room quieted and Buffy looked around, unable to see the wave of magic that rolled out from the extinguished candles.

"Well, I guess it worked." She smiled before jogging upstairs to replace the book, then left. Walking home, she smiled again. She had brought peace to her friends . . . hopefully.

* * *

Xander trudged down the stairs of the basement, tired. He’d picked up construction pretty quickly, but his lack of training or experience kept him from advancing in the company. And if he was ever going to move out of the basement, he would need more money. So after hours of exhausting, crappy construction work that didn’t pay him enough, he went to the Burger Barn. Every night, he came home smelling like French-fry grease, muscles aching. He was tired and pissed off. And being around Spike always bugged the hell out of him, even more than Angel had.

"Hello Xander!" He jerked his head toward the foldout. A bedside light snapped on, and Anya sat there naked, a wide grin on her face. Suppressing a yawn, he spoke.

"What are you doing here, Ahn?" he asked, dropping into the orange chair.

"I thought since you were at work all day and you don’t like work, we could have sex. I thought that giving and receiving orgasms would make you feel better," she explained, rising to stand beside him.

Xander groaned inwardly as he stood. He knew that if he said no, she’d either yell, or plaster herself to his body, writhing and rubbing until he was aroused enough to actually want sex. Either way, he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while. Even though it was for sex (and he wholeheartedly agreed that sex was of the very good), Anya’s ignorance regarding his exhaustion or emotions was always somewhat disheartening. But in five minutes, it wouldn’t matter. Taking her in his arms, he let her take control. Thirty sweaty minutes later, he was asleep.

* * *
Spike took a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it on the ground. Tense and irritated, he was searching for violence. That last encounter with Xander had left him agitated, and sadly, aching to see more of the Scooby. After a hundred years, Spike could hide his feelings. But like any human or vampire, he couldn't change them.

Sure, he’d once hated Xander; he’d hated him with a fiery passion. Of course hate didn't preclude lust, which Spike had felt for the boy since Angel had offered him as a gift. But while tied to Xander’s chair, his abject hatred faded to annoyance. This occurred after discovering the human shared Spike's complete loathing for Angel, and that Xander had also once stood Angelus down. Then one night, weeks later, annoyance had been grudgingly changed to respect.

Spike had been patrolling with the Scoobies. It had been a fairly easy night, until they’d come across a nest of vamps. There was the usual assortment of idiot fledges, but also some older vamps who knew enough to be dangerous. Spike had been taunting one of the stronger vamps, toying with it. As he'd dusted it, Spike had looked up. Through the cloud of dust he saw a vamp charge toward Willow, knife drawn. He felt a flare of panic: Willow had been his one ally in the Scoobies and he sure as hell didn’t want her hurt. But before he could run to her aide, Xander had.

Diving in front of his best friend, Xander took the knife in his side. The vamp smirked and started to throw Xander, its yellow eyes focused on Willow. But the boy had simply clenched the vamp’s arms, refusing to give it the freedom to attack his friend. In the seconds it had taken Xander to save Willow’s life, Spike had arrived, staking the vamp without any of his usual flair.

As the dust settled, Spike sniffed; there wasn’t too much blood from the wound. But the wound was a graze on the ribs, one Spike knew would tug and ache with each breath. Hell, he could see the tension in the boy’s body as Xander tried to pretend he was okay. Yet instead of complaining or trying to gain sympathy, the kid had said nothing and brushed it off as a scratch. He’d joked about being how being a klutz had paid off, and that he had been promoted for donut boy to pin cushion. It was in that moment that respect had blossomed.

After that night, his respect, coupled with his desire, had slowly turned to infatuation; he just hadn’t known it until the night he’d caught himself checking out Xander’s ass. In an odd way, his romantic feelings for Xander made sense. While Giles was the leader, Buffy the fighter, and Willow the witch, Xander was the heart and spirit of the Scoobies. His loyalty and love emanated from him just as his body heat and pheromones. Xander was all that was good, all that Spike would never have.

God, why couldn’t I have fallen for someone else, like the Slayer? He paused and shuddered. Wait, scratch that. A slayer and a vampire would never work out, just be a lot of headache. But the witch would have been easier, even if she's a lesbian. She likes me at least. But no, stupid as I am, I had to go and fall in love with the one that hates me the most. The Powers that Be: seven. Love’s Bitch: zero.

Spike was so lost in thought that he missed the musty smell of the demon coming up behind him. The Grumpdanashka launched its attack, punching him in the kidney, and then grabbing and throwing the vampire in the air. Spike landed with a grunt.

"I smell it all over you," the Grumpdanashka said. It was actually pretty funny looking: seven feet tall, bright pink skin, and one large fur-encircled horn in the middle of its forehead. It reminded Spike of one of Harmony’s stuffed unicorns. Only larger, meaner, and with strange olfactory abilities akin aura reading.

"What do you smell, ducks? Certainly not my love for you. Must be yer own stink," Spike sneered, standing.

"I smell your love and sadness. You are a traitor, consorting with the Slayer and her friends. It is a human you love, isn't it? Humans are only meant to be food. I will find this human, and it will be the first I feast after you are gone."

Spike’s demon roared in anger; he had heard enough. His game face surfaced as he lashed out with a roundhouse kick that hit the Grumpdanashka in the chin. It staggered back, but recovered quickly and punched Spike in the stomach. The vampire retaliated, throwing a flurry of punches before sweeping the demon’s feet out from beneath it. The Grumpdanashska rolled to its feet and charged, putting Spike on the defensive. The demon grabbed him by his duster and threw him, sending Spike crashing into a park bench. He got up, and ran straight into the demon, but the Grumpdanashka’s hide and muscles were so hard that Spike bounced off and then fell down. The demon knelt over him and planted a hand on Spike's chest to hold the vampire down. A dark smile split its mottled face as it spoke.

"If you were not a traitor, you would be worthy of being my pet," it growled, leaning his head down next to Spike's.

"And if you weren’t so pink, maybe you wouldn’t have been teased so much as a hatchling."

"I am not teased. I am fear-." The demon’s roar was cut off as Spike ripped the horn from the demon’s head and drove it into its chest, killing it. The demon fell back

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re a big bad demon and everyone’s scared of you. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve heard it before." Spike sneered at the demon as he struggled to its feet.

He walked the deserted streets of Sunnydale toward his crypt. He wasn’t sure how much damage his left side had sustained from the fight, but he felt at least three broken ribs and a fracture in the left femur. Once at his crypt, he made his way to his bed, dropping articles of clothing along the way. He lay down and waited for his exhaustion to take over, partially afraid and partially craving the dreams that would come. Lately, he was haunted by dreams of Xander. And the more he tried to ignore them, the more erotic and frequent they become.

If I don’t do something soon, I am going to end up like Dru. I bloody well know that he doesn’t feel that way about me; he wants to dust me and he says so often enough. ‘Sides, he has that crazy bint to warm his bed. He’s straight and hates me; I don’t stand a fuckin’ chance.

Groaning, he tried to calm his thoughts. But they drifted from image to image of Xander, some from life and some from the dreams. The last thought Spike had was of Xander’s lips, and how warm they would be on his cool skin.

Translated from Latin:
* Cassandra’s Guide to Political Power
**Knowledge is gained by understanding,
A power unlimited.
We call upon Aradia
To give us this strength!
Knowledge, power, insight!
Knowledge, power, insight!
Knowledge, power, insight!

First Fic Rec Ever

2009-10-08T20:18:10Z

So, I don't rec fics. But I came across a fic that many of my f-listers might not stumble across, so I wanted to share.

If you like Supernatural, Leverage, or Torchwood, you might want to read this fic.

"How Ianto Jones Quits His Job and Decides to Take Over the World (Without the Help of a Kangaroo Army).

This crack of the highest caliber. The primary pairing is Dean/Ianto/Hardison, with references to Jack/Ianto, Dean/Castiel, and Parker/Hardison.

But the crack! Good Lord!

Warning: fic includes non-graphic references to sex, hacking, creating super-awesome fake I.D.'s, Dean's fear of Picasso, tea with whiskey, Sam being a geek, Dean trying to kill Jack, Ianto trying to kill Castiel, mockery of the Welsh, Parker giving her version of the "if you hurt him, I'll kill you" speech, and references to world conquest and kangaroo armies.

If you are intrigued by any of these fandoms, I suggest readings. It's cracky good times.

Fic: "Always,: a Criminal Minds Fic Prentiss/Reid

2009-09-29T04:00:42Z

Title: Always
Author: vinniebatman
Rating: Teen?
Pairing: Emily/Spencer
Summary: Emily reflects on her relationship with Spencer.
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap the creators and owners; he was threatened with hot poker torture and chainsaws so I could meet the real him. I now own all. Thank you. Or not.
Beta: The fabulous, incomparable beetle! I love you!
Author’s Note: Written for one of the sweetest people I know, serialbathera. I heart you darling!!!

It was kind of amazing.

Somehow, it was almost as though Emily were having an out of body experience, looking down as she wove through the aisles of the store with Spencer at her side. It was one of those surreal events that three years ago would have seemed impossible to her.  It wasn't so much that it was strange to be with Spencer, and it certainly wasn't the situation of wandering through a DVD rental store. No, it was just this odd juxtaposition, of doing something so normal with someone so extraordinary, and the fact that this was really happening.

But then she blinked, and she was back in the moment, listening to his voice.

"…Though I am still rather surprised that they still call it a 'video' store, given that their entire stock is comprised of DVDs and Blu-Rays,” he said before falling silent.

Emily shrugged, suppressing a grin as she scanned the titles while they walked by. A part of her always marveled at his interest in practically everything, while the other part was simply amused. But she also knew that to Spencer, a shrug and a quiet, non-committal hum wouldn’t indicate her interest. To him, that sort of response from her could indicate everything and nothing, leading to anxiety that somehow (despite all evidence and knowledge to the contrary) Emily was getting bored with Spencer. For all his intelligence and courage, Spencer often lacked confidence in their relationship. At times he would look at her as though he couldn't quite fathom how he'd retained her interest and earned her affection.

"Who knows?" Emily said.  "Maybe they just can't afford to pay for new signs and movie covers. Or maybe they just don't want to go through the legal hassle of changing the name of their business."

At her comment, Spencer was off on another tangent, citing the number of small businesses that changed names yearly. Emily had long since given up trying to figure out why he knew these things, and instead smiled fondly at him. This was how Spencer expressed his affection. Well, one of the ways.

For Spencer, knowledge, learning things, was what had given him peace during the difficult times in his life. By sharing it, he was sharing what made him happy. True, on occasion he would use knowledge and facts to deflect attention. But after six months of dating, Emily knew the difference. And this was Spencer, sharing his joy.

She stopped and watched him, his thin hands moving expressively through the air as though trying to physically outline the intricacies of renaming a business, his eyes bright. The small warmth that had taken up residence in her heart six months ago flared, and she stepped closer, grasping one of Spencer's hands. He paused and quirked his eyebrows, his face turned down toward hers. Before he could even ask, Emily leaned forward and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to his cheek. And she didn't pull back, but stayed close. A puzzled, gentle smile quirked his mouth as he blushed and ducked his head.

"What was that for?" he asked, his breath brushing across Emily's cheek.

She shrugged and smiled back at him. "No reason. I just wanted to," she said. "You know I love you, right?"

Spencer's cheeks reddened. "Yes, I know.  Um, you know I love you too, right?"

Thinking of all the strange, wonderful facts he'd just shared with her, Emily's smile widened.

"Always."

screams and hides and admires freaky artwork

2009-09-23T17:33:57Z

So, a couple months ago, I posted an entry that was linked to two different sets of images. One was a freaky-ass photographic depiction of childhood fears, and the other was a set of photographs depicting Disney princesses dealing with modern issues.

Well,this set of images is way freaking creepier and awesome...er. In a dark twisted sense.

They're a dark take on all of the traditional Disney princesses. And they're damn freaky.

So gogogo, look and be amazed and alarmed!

i can has a beta?

2009-09-23T17:32:13Z

So, as you may or may not know, Suki is my beta extrodiarre. Unfortunately, she is CRAZYGONUTS busy right now, so I'm looking for another beta. Specifically, for an upcoming spander story, a torchwood fic (which is a gift for Suki so she totally can't beta it), a criminal minds fic, and then a story that I might not ever finish, but its an original mythology revision thing that I'd like to get some feedback on.

So, if you are interested, please let me know. And I'll give you interwebs hugs. And a cookie. An e-cookie, but a cookie nonetheless. Oh, and my undying devotion.

Thanks!

~Alice~

vinniebatman @ 2009-09-16T13:38:00

2009-09-16T20:32:12Z

It's headlines like these that truly make my day. It makes me wonder if there are slashers working at the newspaper....

FYI

2009-09-09T13:48:50Z

Waking up at 5:00 after not falling asleep until 1:00 is not cool.

That is all.

Top Sign that You Might Like Slash a Bit Too Much....

2009-09-08T19:21:48Z

Oye. Just oye.

So, Suki and Kitty went to a screening of the season 2 premiere of "Merlin" in London. After reading their descriptions (including Colin Morgan aka Merlin's reference to fans of the RPS) and seeing the pictures, I of course went to IMDB to *cough* read about them so I could appreciate their acting skills and poise. Yeah, that's the ticket!

Anyhow, I've decided that I may like slash a bit too much, because everything I read goes through my mental Slashitron 2000 and seems deliciously dirty.

Case in point: the first trivia fact shown on Colin Morgan's IMDB page is "He is a vegetarian."

My immediate response, without any forethought or pondering?

"Yeah, but he still eats meat."

I am a bad, dirty person. But I can't find it in myself to be ashamed. Just really amused and pleased. Though I am blushing at my desk.

My Tattoo!!

2009-08-12T03:27:01Z

My mom and I got our tattoos, and SWEETFUCKINGMOTHEROFDANCINGNAKEDJESUS!

It hurt. It really hurt, but I turned out nice and I likes it.

And that's pretty much all that's happening in my life.

I know, my life, it is, how you say, exciting.

Though my bosses did threaten to fire me.

But I don't wanna talk about that.

Oye.

EDIT: My bosses think I'm not doing well enough, that I should be perfect as a secretary, not still learning. So, shocking Anna, the lady that trained me, they gave me 90 days to get better or get fired.

Meh. It won't happen, but yeah, major downer.

Paris Hilton to Guest Star on Supernatural

2009-08-06T18:28:01Z

...

I'm speechless. I get Kripke refusing to have the show for for more than 5 seasons. It's a good idea to have it all planned out so the show doesn't end up with two crappy final seasons.

But seriously, Paris Hilton?

That just... my soul... she cries.

Though there is this:

A source close to the show says, "The fans should trust [creator/producer] Eric Kripke."

I'll trust you, Kripke. But don't let me down.

And keep her away from the boys. She might... soil... them.

Link to blurb of DOOOOM here