Post by xaphania on Jun 23, 2009 16:43:26 GMT -5
Title: Performance
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating/Warning: 15 (language and innuendo)
Genre: Humour
Summary: Spike's not been having a great day. His beloved coat has been gakked on by a Gallah demon, the Slayer's being a bitch and he can't seem to stop quoting lines from the flicks. What's going on? Spike PoV fic, set just after Gone.
Performance
I don’t ask for much, not really. I’m a simple bloke – give me a bottle of booze, a bag of blood, a working telly and I’m happy.
And perhaps a night in with the Slayer…
Bollocks. I wasn’t going to think about her. Stupid bitch…with her sarky comments and her silly smile and her beautiful hair…
Right. No thinking about the Slayer.
Well, it’s her fault I’m in this mess in the first place, you know? I help her patrol sometimes. With this bloody chip in my head, I’ve got to get my rocks off somehow, and killing demons is the only way to go about it these days.
Not that I’d say no to any of the other ways the Slayer and I could relieve some tension.
Ah. No thinking about her.
But it was her fault. We were approached by a Gallah demon, see – they’re those big, slimy blokes with tentacles where their ears should be. Anyway, Gallah demon – easy as pie, right?
Wrong.
Stupid cow takes off halfway through the fight to stake a couple of vamps, leaving me to fight the Gallah. Somehow, it got me in a headlock. Yeah, I don’t know how it could have happened either.
So. I’m in a headlock, and the Slayer comes sauntering back, and she just stands there. Just. Stands. There.
She looked pretty happy to see me all incapacitated-like, not even lifting a finger to help.
The Gallah demon was getting pretty pissed at this point (I did mention I’d been repeatedly kicking it in the balls, didn’t I?), and it apparently decided that it was a good time to make like a banana and split.
But not before it gakked it’s disgusting slime all over me.
And. My. Coat.
Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of things I love about this world. Blood…booze…a packet of smokes…the sight of the Slayer as she boun-…er, bounds around cemeteries…
But I bloody well love that coat more than them all.
So you see, here I am, covered in Gallah goo - some even went in my mouth – and it’s bloody disgusting! – looking forward to some nice after-patrol relaxation - and the Slayer has the gall to say…
“Not tonight.”
Who does the bloody bitch think she is?
“You’re all…icky and covered in slimy wet stuff…”
“I don’t have to be the only one, pet.”
“Ew, Spike.”
Oh, she didn’t think I was going to let that one go?
And then she walked off. Just like that.
I bleedin’ well hate her sometimes.
*
“So, what’s the what gang? Any research to be done, vampires to be slayed, peroxide pests to be mocked?”
I swear, one day the Whelp is going to regret ever opening his mouth. Bloody wanker.
“I don’t think there’s much to be done here, guys. Maybe we should just go home…”
Red didn’t sound too thrilled with the prospect. Don’t think the Slayer’s too happy with her right now, not after what she did to the Nibblet. Can’t say as I’m too happy with her either.
“Yes. Shoo. Go away so Xander and I can have sex in the training room.”
“Ahn!”
I like Anyanka, she’s got balls. She’s about the only one of the bleedin’ Scoobies I can stand.
Well, apart from the Slayer. And I don’t even like her half the time.
“Yeah, I guess we should just call it a night,” the Slayer sounded oh so enthusiastic. Not that she ever looked too happy these days.
I stood up.
“That's cool baby, you know how it is, rockin' and rollin' and what not.” What the bloody hell did I say that for?
“Hey, Evil Dead, what are you doing?”
That’s what I’d like to know! The words were coming whether I wanted them to or not.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Spike, you’re being an even bigger freak than normal. What’s going on?” The Slayer’s voice sounded far away…
“What's the matter with me, baby, what's the matter with you?”
I’m going bug-shagging crazy. I must be.
“Is he like, quoting Grease?” God knows, Nibblet, am I? “I used to know all the words to ‘We Go Together’, even the ramalama bits.” She seemed proud of that.
The Slayer snorted. “You so didn’t. You used to sing, ‘we go together like peas and carrots.’”
“Uh, no?”
I tuned out their argument. It was as though some other force had taken hold of my body. I tried to glare at Red. It had to be a spell, didn’t it, and who’s our resident witch? The bizarre thing was, I could see myself doing it – like an out of body experience.
I was there, in the Magic Box, strutting up and down like a bloody peacock, twirling the front of my hair into a quiff with a comb that I’d suddenly procured.
Bleedin’ ponce is what I looked like.
Of course, Buffy and her merry band of Slayerettes were in fits. Let’s all laugh it up at the vampire not quite in control of his actions.
Then, as suddenly as the urge to spout random lines from the flicks came upon me, the spell or whatever it was let me go.
“What the bleedin’ hell did you do to me, Red?” I turned on her, trying to hold myself together – I didn’t need a migraine from the chip on top of everything else.
“N-nothing, I didn’t do anything!”
She looked frightened, poor chit. Hell, who am I kiddin’? Good to know I can still get some scares in.
“What was all that about, Bleach-Boy?” Bloody whelp and his stupid nicknames. Yeah, yeah, I know, pot, kettle and all that.
“Damned ‘f I know,” I shot back, “felt like a spell. I couldn’ control what I was sayin’ or doin’. Was a bit like when Sweet was in town.”
“Weird,” Buffy shrugged. “Looks like you got your wish, guys. Something to research.”
“Hey! I wanted Xander to give me orgasms in the training room. Shoo!”
“Anya!” Willow’s eyes were wide as she gestured towards the Bit.
“Oh please, I’ve heard her say much worse than that.” You tell her, Nibblet!
Oh balls. I could feel that same sensation coming over me again.
“The Force is strong with this one.”
And quick as lightning, the feeling left.
“Star Wars now? Okay, so whatever’s going on is making Spike quote from movies?” By Jove, I think he’s got it! Mensa will be calling any day now, Harris.
“Well I don’t bloody like it,” I strode over to the shelves and pulled out some random books, throwing them onto the table. “Well? What are you all standin’ around for? I want to put a stop to this and quick-like!” Especially ‘cos the Slayer and I had to go do patrol.
And each other.
“O..kay, Spike, calm down,” Red said, “can you think of anything strange that’s happened lately? Have you run into any Warlocks, or been given any talismans?”
“Nope,” I could feel the muscles in my jaw ticking. I needed to punch something, and fast. “Jus’ the usual. Boozin’, fightin’ and shaggin’.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend, Spike?” The Bit looked surprised.
“Er…”
“No!” The Slayer jumped in. “I mean…Spike? A girlfriend? Puh-lease!”
She shot me a look. I rolled my eyes.
“Er, yeah. No girlfriend. Jus’ me.”
“Ohhh,” Harris smirked, “you and your…exercises?”
“Piss off.”
“Wait,” Buffy said, “there was that demon last night. Remember? The slimy one that spewed all over your coat?”
As if I could forget what that wanker did to my coat.
“Oh!” Anya shouted, “So that’s why he’s not wearing it. I have to say, I much prefer you without it, Spike. It makes it so much easier to ogle you when all you’re wearing are those tight pants and shirt.”
Damn. That stupid out-of-body thing was happening again.
“Gentlemen, the lunchbox has landed!”
“Say what now?”
Balls. Bloody fucking wankering balls. I knew what that line was from and there’s not a damned thing I can do to stop myself…
“I've got a degree in ass wiggling, mate.”
“And again with the huh?”
I couldn’t help it. The spell made me. I shook my arse.
“Mmm, more like a PhD in ass wiggling.”
“Ahn!”
Always knew I liked her.
“Ohmigod!” The Nibblet shrieked. “I just got what he meant by lunchbox!”
“Oh yeah…lunchbox indeed…”
“Ahn!”
“What? It’s not like those tight jeans hide anything!”
I felt the spell letting me go. Not that I’d mind giving the Slayer a show, but I doubt the Scoobies would be all that impressed with a glimpse of Big Bad’s goodies. Then again, from what Demon Girl’s been saying…
I slumped down into a chair. “Bloody glad the spell let me go when it did.”
“What was that movie?” Red asked.
“The Full Monty.” A load of blank stares. Typical Americans. “British film ‘bout some working-class blokes stripping off? No?”
The Slayer looked a bit pink in the cheeks, and deep in thought.
“Penny for ‘em?” I smirked, “P’raps you’re wishin’ the spell had let me go a little bit further, eh pet?”
“In your dreams Spike,” she snorted.
“Oh yeah.”
“Pig.”
“Guys?” Red interrupted. “What kind of demon was it that got you all slimy?”
“Gallah.”
She flipped through a book, but not quickly enough. I wanted this spell off. “Found it yet?”
She let out a little “aha!” of excitement. “Gallah demon. Excretes a substance that if ingested will cause brief and unusual out-of-body occurrences. Symptoms will vary, though Gallah oil has, in the past, caused victims to burst into song, perform mime and act out skits. Effects will wear off naturally.”
“Well that’s just great, isn’ it?” I snorted. “Who knows how long I’ll be spoutin’ off this rubbish.”
Red smiled slightly. “At least you know it will stop. You just don’t know how soon.”
“Yeah, that’s a righ’ bleedin’ comfort. Well,” I leaned back in the chair and propped my legs on the table. “I’m not leavin’ til it stops. I’m already enough of a laughin’ stock in this town as it is. Don’ need some demon to see me actin’ out scenes from Titanic or whatall.”
“Oh, please do,” Harris smirked, “and then, you know, act it out to the end. With the drowning.”
“Vampire’s can’t drown, you git.”
“Oh.”
Grr! Bloody Gallah demon’s oil working it’s magic again…
I strode towards the Slayer, standing almost nose-to-nose with her.
“Did you ever think of marrying just for fun? Oh yes, you will. And you’ll marry me.”
The Slayer rolled her eyes. “Oh great, he’s off again.”
“You’ve been married to a boy and an old man. Why not try a husband at the right age? With a way with women?” Oh joy. Rhett and Scarlett.
“Shut up, Spike.” Don’t you think I’m trying to do that, Slayer?
“Stop it. You hear me? No more of that talk.”
Chit’s going to stake me when this is over.
I pulled her roughly towards me and kissed her, gliding my lips over hers. She gasped, and leant into me slightly, her mouth inviting me in. Even through the haze caused by the Gallah oil, everything about her mouth beneath mine, kissing me, felt right.
She pushed me away.
“Don’t, Spike…” Huh. I’d thought that the scene would have ended with the kiss, but the bizarre hold was still on me.
“And I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the fools you’ve ever known have kissed you like this, have they? Your Charles or your Frank or your stupid Ashley.” Make that Angel, Parker and Riley, Rhett mate. “Say you’re going to marry me. Say yes. Say yes.”
The words weren’t my own but I could hear the emotion, the feeling, ring true in my voice.
“Spike, stop this…” There was an odd glassy look in her eyes.
And the enchantment released its thrall on me. I didn’t move.
“Slayer?” She was staring at the floor, then shook herself out of my grasp and walked towards the door. And of course, I started after her.
“Don’t follow me, Spike.”
The bleedin’ annoying bell on the door jangled as she left.
“Whew!” Anya said, breaking the sudden silence, “That was quite the performance!”
Right.
A bloody performance.
*
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating/Warning: 15 (language and innuendo)
Genre: Humour
Summary: Spike's not been having a great day. His beloved coat has been gakked on by a Gallah demon, the Slayer's being a bitch and he can't seem to stop quoting lines from the flicks. What's going on? Spike PoV fic, set just after Gone.
Performance
I don’t ask for much, not really. I’m a simple bloke – give me a bottle of booze, a bag of blood, a working telly and I’m happy.
And perhaps a night in with the Slayer…
Bollocks. I wasn’t going to think about her. Stupid bitch…with her sarky comments and her silly smile and her beautiful hair…
Right. No thinking about the Slayer.
Well, it’s her fault I’m in this mess in the first place, you know? I help her patrol sometimes. With this bloody chip in my head, I’ve got to get my rocks off somehow, and killing demons is the only way to go about it these days.
Not that I’d say no to any of the other ways the Slayer and I could relieve some tension.
Ah. No thinking about her.
But it was her fault. We were approached by a Gallah demon, see – they’re those big, slimy blokes with tentacles where their ears should be. Anyway, Gallah demon – easy as pie, right?
Wrong.
Stupid cow takes off halfway through the fight to stake a couple of vamps, leaving me to fight the Gallah. Somehow, it got me in a headlock. Yeah, I don’t know how it could have happened either.
So. I’m in a headlock, and the Slayer comes sauntering back, and she just stands there. Just. Stands. There.
She looked pretty happy to see me all incapacitated-like, not even lifting a finger to help.
The Gallah demon was getting pretty pissed at this point (I did mention I’d been repeatedly kicking it in the balls, didn’t I?), and it apparently decided that it was a good time to make like a banana and split.
But not before it gakked it’s disgusting slime all over me.
And. My. Coat.
Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of things I love about this world. Blood…booze…a packet of smokes…the sight of the Slayer as she boun-…er, bounds around cemeteries…
But I bloody well love that coat more than them all.
So you see, here I am, covered in Gallah goo - some even went in my mouth – and it’s bloody disgusting! – looking forward to some nice after-patrol relaxation - and the Slayer has the gall to say…
“Not tonight.”
Who does the bloody bitch think she is?
“You’re all…icky and covered in slimy wet stuff…”
“I don’t have to be the only one, pet.”
“Ew, Spike.”
Oh, she didn’t think I was going to let that one go?
And then she walked off. Just like that.
I bleedin’ well hate her sometimes.
*
“So, what’s the what gang? Any research to be done, vampires to be slayed, peroxide pests to be mocked?”
I swear, one day the Whelp is going to regret ever opening his mouth. Bloody wanker.
“I don’t think there’s much to be done here, guys. Maybe we should just go home…”
Red didn’t sound too thrilled with the prospect. Don’t think the Slayer’s too happy with her right now, not after what she did to the Nibblet. Can’t say as I’m too happy with her either.
“Yes. Shoo. Go away so Xander and I can have sex in the training room.”
“Ahn!”
I like Anyanka, she’s got balls. She’s about the only one of the bleedin’ Scoobies I can stand.
Well, apart from the Slayer. And I don’t even like her half the time.
“Yeah, I guess we should just call it a night,” the Slayer sounded oh so enthusiastic. Not that she ever looked too happy these days.
I stood up.
“That's cool baby, you know how it is, rockin' and rollin' and what not.” What the bloody hell did I say that for?
“Hey, Evil Dead, what are you doing?”
That’s what I’d like to know! The words were coming whether I wanted them to or not.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Spike, you’re being an even bigger freak than normal. What’s going on?” The Slayer’s voice sounded far away…
“What's the matter with me, baby, what's the matter with you?”
I’m going bug-shagging crazy. I must be.
“Is he like, quoting Grease?” God knows, Nibblet, am I? “I used to know all the words to ‘We Go Together’, even the ramalama bits.” She seemed proud of that.
The Slayer snorted. “You so didn’t. You used to sing, ‘we go together like peas and carrots.’”
“Uh, no?”
I tuned out their argument. It was as though some other force had taken hold of my body. I tried to glare at Red. It had to be a spell, didn’t it, and who’s our resident witch? The bizarre thing was, I could see myself doing it – like an out of body experience.
I was there, in the Magic Box, strutting up and down like a bloody peacock, twirling the front of my hair into a quiff with a comb that I’d suddenly procured.
Bleedin’ ponce is what I looked like.
Of course, Buffy and her merry band of Slayerettes were in fits. Let’s all laugh it up at the vampire not quite in control of his actions.
Then, as suddenly as the urge to spout random lines from the flicks came upon me, the spell or whatever it was let me go.
“What the bleedin’ hell did you do to me, Red?” I turned on her, trying to hold myself together – I didn’t need a migraine from the chip on top of everything else.
“N-nothing, I didn’t do anything!”
She looked frightened, poor chit. Hell, who am I kiddin’? Good to know I can still get some scares in.
“What was all that about, Bleach-Boy?” Bloody whelp and his stupid nicknames. Yeah, yeah, I know, pot, kettle and all that.
“Damned ‘f I know,” I shot back, “felt like a spell. I couldn’ control what I was sayin’ or doin’. Was a bit like when Sweet was in town.”
“Weird,” Buffy shrugged. “Looks like you got your wish, guys. Something to research.”
“Hey! I wanted Xander to give me orgasms in the training room. Shoo!”
“Anya!” Willow’s eyes were wide as she gestured towards the Bit.
“Oh please, I’ve heard her say much worse than that.” You tell her, Nibblet!
Oh balls. I could feel that same sensation coming over me again.
“The Force is strong with this one.”
And quick as lightning, the feeling left.
“Star Wars now? Okay, so whatever’s going on is making Spike quote from movies?” By Jove, I think he’s got it! Mensa will be calling any day now, Harris.
“Well I don’t bloody like it,” I strode over to the shelves and pulled out some random books, throwing them onto the table. “Well? What are you all standin’ around for? I want to put a stop to this and quick-like!” Especially ‘cos the Slayer and I had to go do patrol.
And each other.
“O..kay, Spike, calm down,” Red said, “can you think of anything strange that’s happened lately? Have you run into any Warlocks, or been given any talismans?”
“Nope,” I could feel the muscles in my jaw ticking. I needed to punch something, and fast. “Jus’ the usual. Boozin’, fightin’ and shaggin’.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend, Spike?” The Bit looked surprised.
“Er…”
“No!” The Slayer jumped in. “I mean…Spike? A girlfriend? Puh-lease!”
She shot me a look. I rolled my eyes.
“Er, yeah. No girlfriend. Jus’ me.”
“Ohhh,” Harris smirked, “you and your…exercises?”
“Piss off.”
“Wait,” Buffy said, “there was that demon last night. Remember? The slimy one that spewed all over your coat?”
As if I could forget what that wanker did to my coat.
“Oh!” Anya shouted, “So that’s why he’s not wearing it. I have to say, I much prefer you without it, Spike. It makes it so much easier to ogle you when all you’re wearing are those tight pants and shirt.”
Damn. That stupid out-of-body thing was happening again.
“Gentlemen, the lunchbox has landed!”
“Say what now?”
Balls. Bloody fucking wankering balls. I knew what that line was from and there’s not a damned thing I can do to stop myself…
“I've got a degree in ass wiggling, mate.”
“And again with the huh?”
I couldn’t help it. The spell made me. I shook my arse.
“Mmm, more like a PhD in ass wiggling.”
“Ahn!”
Always knew I liked her.
“Ohmigod!” The Nibblet shrieked. “I just got what he meant by lunchbox!”
“Oh yeah…lunchbox indeed…”
“Ahn!”
“What? It’s not like those tight jeans hide anything!”
I felt the spell letting me go. Not that I’d mind giving the Slayer a show, but I doubt the Scoobies would be all that impressed with a glimpse of Big Bad’s goodies. Then again, from what Demon Girl’s been saying…
I slumped down into a chair. “Bloody glad the spell let me go when it did.”
“What was that movie?” Red asked.
“The Full Monty.” A load of blank stares. Typical Americans. “British film ‘bout some working-class blokes stripping off? No?”
The Slayer looked a bit pink in the cheeks, and deep in thought.
“Penny for ‘em?” I smirked, “P’raps you’re wishin’ the spell had let me go a little bit further, eh pet?”
“In your dreams Spike,” she snorted.
“Oh yeah.”
“Pig.”
“Guys?” Red interrupted. “What kind of demon was it that got you all slimy?”
“Gallah.”
She flipped through a book, but not quickly enough. I wanted this spell off. “Found it yet?”
She let out a little “aha!” of excitement. “Gallah demon. Excretes a substance that if ingested will cause brief and unusual out-of-body occurrences. Symptoms will vary, though Gallah oil has, in the past, caused victims to burst into song, perform mime and act out skits. Effects will wear off naturally.”
“Well that’s just great, isn’ it?” I snorted. “Who knows how long I’ll be spoutin’ off this rubbish.”
Red smiled slightly. “At least you know it will stop. You just don’t know how soon.”
“Yeah, that’s a righ’ bleedin’ comfort. Well,” I leaned back in the chair and propped my legs on the table. “I’m not leavin’ til it stops. I’m already enough of a laughin’ stock in this town as it is. Don’ need some demon to see me actin’ out scenes from Titanic or whatall.”
“Oh, please do,” Harris smirked, “and then, you know, act it out to the end. With the drowning.”
“Vampire’s can’t drown, you git.”
“Oh.”
Grr! Bloody Gallah demon’s oil working it’s magic again…
I strode towards the Slayer, standing almost nose-to-nose with her.
“Did you ever think of marrying just for fun? Oh yes, you will. And you’ll marry me.”
The Slayer rolled her eyes. “Oh great, he’s off again.”
“You’ve been married to a boy and an old man. Why not try a husband at the right age? With a way with women?” Oh joy. Rhett and Scarlett.
“Shut up, Spike.” Don’t you think I’m trying to do that, Slayer?
“Stop it. You hear me? No more of that talk.”
Chit’s going to stake me when this is over.
I pulled her roughly towards me and kissed her, gliding my lips over hers. She gasped, and leant into me slightly, her mouth inviting me in. Even through the haze caused by the Gallah oil, everything about her mouth beneath mine, kissing me, felt right.
She pushed me away.
“Don’t, Spike…” Huh. I’d thought that the scene would have ended with the kiss, but the bizarre hold was still on me.
“And I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the fools you’ve ever known have kissed you like this, have they? Your Charles or your Frank or your stupid Ashley.” Make that Angel, Parker and Riley, Rhett mate. “Say you’re going to marry me. Say yes. Say yes.”
The words weren’t my own but I could hear the emotion, the feeling, ring true in my voice.
“Spike, stop this…” There was an odd glassy look in her eyes.
And the enchantment released its thrall on me. I didn’t move.
“Slayer?” She was staring at the floor, then shook herself out of my grasp and walked towards the door. And of course, I started after her.
“Don’t follow me, Spike.”
The bleedin’ annoying bell on the door jangled as she left.
“Whew!” Anya said, breaking the sudden silence, “That was quite the performance!”
Right.
A bloody performance.
*
