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snoggedI'm pleased to bring you the latest chapter of Self-Destruct Button. Enjoy!
Title: Self-Destruct Button (5/?)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1668
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 (eventually)
Setting: Buffy – Post “Chosen”/Angel – set shortly after “Damage.”
Summary: Willow gets a party invitation from a certain warlock in Los Angeles.
Beta(s):![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angelskuuipo and purplefeen. All other mistakes are mine.
A/N: Written forrua1412 who inspired me with her gorgeous artwork.
Banner byrua1412
“What about that one?” Fred asked, clutching her handbag as she pointed at a mannequin standing in the Macy’s window display with her arms akimbo. The tailor’s model was wearing a knee-length emerald green halter dress with a pair of fake gold earrings clipped to her ears. It was a far cry from the dresses she used to wear in high school, but there was something about the way the fabric draped over the molded plastic that made Willow think it just might work.
“I suppose it can’t hurt to try it on,” Willow replied.
But instead of walking into the store, Willow pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Then, she muttered a few words in Latin and when she opened her eyes again, she had taken the mannequin’s place in the window and the dress had stretched to fit her shape. She experimentally flicked her hips from side to side causing the dress to swish and swirl around her thighs. All in all, it wasn’t a bad fit judging from her reflection in the glass and the look of appreciation in Fred’s eyes as she watched from the sidewalk outside. It was a much better look than the looks of confused horror Fred had given her the first seven times Willow had done this today.
Apparently, the cliché was wrong. It was the eighth time that was the charm, not the third.
That was when the price tag sewn into the hem of the arm hole caught her eye and nearly paralyzed her with shock. There was no way she was going to able to afford this, not on her frugal-ish Scooby budget, and while Angel had seemingly come around to the fact that she wasn’t playing him like Andrew had, she couldn’t justify asking him for the company credit card.
With a sigh, Willow muttered the counter-spell and snapped her fingers. In an instant, she was back out on the street with Fred, dressed in the same slacks from yesterday and a gray shirt with the phrase “Talk Nerdy To Me” written in red block letters across the chest. This morning Willow had argued that it wouldn’t be an issue to magic a few outfits out of her closet in Sao Paolo, but Fred, her new roommate, had insisted that Willow borrow her clothes for the day. Of course, once Fred had needed to use the bathroom, Willow had utilized her magical suitcase trick and in minutes, she had three pairs of her favorite panties, a few bras, socks, several tops, a skirt, and another pair of pants. She considered herself lucky that Kennedy hadn’t chucked it all out on the curb yet.
“Kinda wish you’d stop doing that seeing that it’s the middle of the day and all,” Fred murmured, looking a bit startled by Willow’s abrupt return to her side.
“Would you rather have me magic it out of the store?” Willow asked.
“Well…no,” Fred replied. “And I guess you are technically trying everything on in the store, so…I guess it could be worse.”
“I knew I could convince you,” Willow replied, beaming. “Besides, I can guarantee no one’s watching. You can always count on the human race to ignore things they don’t understand. That’s how you get gangs on PCP and an increase of barbecue fork accidents.”
Fred chuckled a little, despite the macabre subject matter. “Barbecue forks? I’ve never heard that one before. Guess our obituary columnists don’t come from the same clever stock as yours.”
“Guess not,” Willow said, shrugging as they started walking towards the next dress shop.
“One more stop?” Fred asked, exhaustion creeping into her tone. Despite Fred’s desire to be Willow’s companion today, she wasn’t a Buffy or a Cordelia. If either of them had been along for this trip, Willow imagined that shopping for a dress would be an event worthy of three or four days instead of two to three hours.
“That’s fine,” Willow replied, hoping that the final store would not only have a great dress for her to wear, but a cheap one too. “Though I was thinking it couldn’t hurt to pop into a gelato shop or something when we’re done.”
“Ooh!” Fred’s eyes noticeably brightened and she grinned widely. The topic of food was clearly one that made her giddy. “We could get churros. I know this great little cart about a block from here where they douse them in cinnamon and brown sugar.”
“Sounds delicious,” Willow said, subconsciously licking her lips as she realized that she was hungry enough to devour at least three of them.
“Excellent,” Fred exclaimed, a renewed spring in her step as they crossed the street.
They came to a stop in front of another window display. This time, there were two mannequins. One was a male dressed in the sort of black suit and tie that she could picture Spike wearing and the other was a woman dressed in another knee-length dress. This one was a creamy ivory color with spaghetti straps and it was significantly more gorgeous than the last one. She couldn’t remember a time when a dress had ever made her feel this awe-struck.
“That’s it. That’s the one.”
“Then start poofing,” Fred replied, gesturing at the window.
Willow started to close her eyes, but immediately stopped herself. “Actually…I think I’m going to go in and try it on the old-fashioned way.”
Without another word, Willow reached forward and grabbed the handle protruding from the front door. She pulled on it gently and then stepped inside with Fred close on her heels.
“May I help you, Miss?”
A leggy brunette with her hair pulled back in a tight bun stepped out from behind the counter and approached them.
“I’d like to try on the dress in the window,” Willow said, gesturing to the models that now had their backs to her and barely noticing when Fred slipped around her in order to browse through a few of the dress racks along the far wall by the changing rooms.
“I’m sorry, Miss. It’s store policy not to remove dresses from the mannequins. But if you’d like, we have a few dresses in the store that are quite similar and would be in your size.” There was a curt tone to the woman’s voice that made Willow feel like the apology was not actually sincere.
Willow frowned. She didn’t want similar. She wanted the dress in the window. But she couldn’t say that out loud. It sounded too pouty, too selfish, too…much like Kennedy. For the first time since she’d arrived in LA, the thought of her former lover made her feel bitter instead of sad.
Despite all of this, she didn’t really want to give up on the dream dress so she opted for optimistic persistence.
“Are you sure you don’t have any of that same dress on a rack in here somewhere?”
The clerk’s eyes cautiously traveled the length of Willow’s frame guesstimating waist, hip, and bust size. Then she pressed the tip of her index finger against her chin and narrowed her gaze. “Unless you suddenly shrink to a size two….”
Anger buzzed between Willow’s ears at the criticism and she found herself itching to do something drastic. What would it really hurt if this woman suddenly grew a tail? Or maybe sprouted some whiskers?
Just before Willow raised a finger though, Fred grabbed her by the arm and flashed the clerk a smile. “Thanks for your time, ma’am, but I think we’re done here.”
“Mmm-hmm,” the woman replied tightly. “You have a good day now.”
Once Fred and Willow were back outside, Willow opened her mouth to protest, to bitch out that woman for ruining her day. Before she could though, Fred reached into her purse and showed Willow the unmistakable corner of the dress from the window. Except that it wasn’t the one from the window because when she turned around to look at the storefront, the mannequin was staring back at her still wearing the ivory dress.
“How did you…?” Willow stammered.
Fred grinned conspiratorially, which only made Willow feel more nervous
“But…but…shop-lifting,” Willow said weakly, remembering Dawn’s stint with stealing several years ago and the “Want, Take, Have” motto that Faith always followed. But Fred wasn’t like that, was she? Especially since Fred had been freaking out about Willow switching places with mannequins in the windows earlier today.
“What did you...? How did you...?” Willow was flustered and unable to find the words to finish her sentences, but the look on Fred’s face assured her that an answer was coming.
Fred chuckled, finally letting the cat out of the bag. "There was another girl cleaning bras out of the dressing room. She rang me up no problem."
Willow was stunned that Fred had bought the dress for her. She was positive that it couldn't have been cheap and she knew there wasn't much money in science unless you were working for a greedy pharmaceutical company or a...law firm that happened to be located in about a million different dimensions.
"You deserve to look beautiful at your warlock party in the dress you wanted to wear so I figured it was worth it.” Fred continued, taking in Willow’s expression. “You may want to make a few adjustments though. The jerky clerk was sadly right about the only one in the store being a size two.”
Willow nodded, mouthing a "Thank You" as they headed towards the churro stand. The melodic strains of Willow’s cell phone tune forced them to take another pause. Willow pulled the phone out of her pocket, looked down at the display, and gulped a little as she flipped it open.
Chapter 6
Title: Self-Destruct Button (5/?)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1668
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 (eventually)
Setting: Buffy – Post “Chosen”/Angel – set shortly after “Damage.”
Summary: Willow gets a party invitation from a certain warlock in Los Angeles.
Beta(s):
angelskuuipo and purplefeen. All other mistakes are mine.A/N: Written for
rua1412 who inspired me with her gorgeous artwork.Banner by
rua1412“What about that one?” Fred asked, clutching her handbag as she pointed at a mannequin standing in the Macy’s window display with her arms akimbo. The tailor’s model was wearing a knee-length emerald green halter dress with a pair of fake gold earrings clipped to her ears. It was a far cry from the dresses she used to wear in high school, but there was something about the way the fabric draped over the molded plastic that made Willow think it just might work.
“I suppose it can’t hurt to try it on,” Willow replied.
But instead of walking into the store, Willow pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Then, she muttered a few words in Latin and when she opened her eyes again, she had taken the mannequin’s place in the window and the dress had stretched to fit her shape. She experimentally flicked her hips from side to side causing the dress to swish and swirl around her thighs. All in all, it wasn’t a bad fit judging from her reflection in the glass and the look of appreciation in Fred’s eyes as she watched from the sidewalk outside. It was a much better look than the looks of confused horror Fred had given her the first seven times Willow had done this today.
Apparently, the cliché was wrong. It was the eighth time that was the charm, not the third.
That was when the price tag sewn into the hem of the arm hole caught her eye and nearly paralyzed her with shock. There was no way she was going to able to afford this, not on her frugal-ish Scooby budget, and while Angel had seemingly come around to the fact that she wasn’t playing him like Andrew had, she couldn’t justify asking him for the company credit card.
With a sigh, Willow muttered the counter-spell and snapped her fingers. In an instant, she was back out on the street with Fred, dressed in the same slacks from yesterday and a gray shirt with the phrase “Talk Nerdy To Me” written in red block letters across the chest. This morning Willow had argued that it wouldn’t be an issue to magic a few outfits out of her closet in Sao Paolo, but Fred, her new roommate, had insisted that Willow borrow her clothes for the day. Of course, once Fred had needed to use the bathroom, Willow had utilized her magical suitcase trick and in minutes, she had three pairs of her favorite panties, a few bras, socks, several tops, a skirt, and another pair of pants. She considered herself lucky that Kennedy hadn’t chucked it all out on the curb yet.
“Kinda wish you’d stop doing that seeing that it’s the middle of the day and all,” Fred murmured, looking a bit startled by Willow’s abrupt return to her side.
“Would you rather have me magic it out of the store?” Willow asked.
“Well…no,” Fred replied. “And I guess you are technically trying everything on in the store, so…I guess it could be worse.”
“I knew I could convince you,” Willow replied, beaming. “Besides, I can guarantee no one’s watching. You can always count on the human race to ignore things they don’t understand. That’s how you get gangs on PCP and an increase of barbecue fork accidents.”
Fred chuckled a little, despite the macabre subject matter. “Barbecue forks? I’ve never heard that one before. Guess our obituary columnists don’t come from the same clever stock as yours.”
“Guess not,” Willow said, shrugging as they started walking towards the next dress shop.
“One more stop?” Fred asked, exhaustion creeping into her tone. Despite Fred’s desire to be Willow’s companion today, she wasn’t a Buffy or a Cordelia. If either of them had been along for this trip, Willow imagined that shopping for a dress would be an event worthy of three or four days instead of two to three hours.
“That’s fine,” Willow replied, hoping that the final store would not only have a great dress for her to wear, but a cheap one too. “Though I was thinking it couldn’t hurt to pop into a gelato shop or something when we’re done.”
“Ooh!” Fred’s eyes noticeably brightened and she grinned widely. The topic of food was clearly one that made her giddy. “We could get churros. I know this great little cart about a block from here where they douse them in cinnamon and brown sugar.”
“Sounds delicious,” Willow said, subconsciously licking her lips as she realized that she was hungry enough to devour at least three of them.
“Excellent,” Fred exclaimed, a renewed spring in her step as they crossed the street.
They came to a stop in front of another window display. This time, there were two mannequins. One was a male dressed in the sort of black suit and tie that she could picture Spike wearing and the other was a woman dressed in another knee-length dress. This one was a creamy ivory color with spaghetti straps and it was significantly more gorgeous than the last one. She couldn’t remember a time when a dress had ever made her feel this awe-struck.
“That’s it. That’s the one.”
“Then start poofing,” Fred replied, gesturing at the window.
Willow started to close her eyes, but immediately stopped herself. “Actually…I think I’m going to go in and try it on the old-fashioned way.”
Without another word, Willow reached forward and grabbed the handle protruding from the front door. She pulled on it gently and then stepped inside with Fred close on her heels.
“May I help you, Miss?”
A leggy brunette with her hair pulled back in a tight bun stepped out from behind the counter and approached them.
“I’d like to try on the dress in the window,” Willow said, gesturing to the models that now had their backs to her and barely noticing when Fred slipped around her in order to browse through a few of the dress racks along the far wall by the changing rooms.
“I’m sorry, Miss. It’s store policy not to remove dresses from the mannequins. But if you’d like, we have a few dresses in the store that are quite similar and would be in your size.” There was a curt tone to the woman’s voice that made Willow feel like the apology was not actually sincere.
Willow frowned. She didn’t want similar. She wanted the dress in the window. But she couldn’t say that out loud. It sounded too pouty, too selfish, too…much like Kennedy. For the first time since she’d arrived in LA, the thought of her former lover made her feel bitter instead of sad.
Despite all of this, she didn’t really want to give up on the dream dress so she opted for optimistic persistence.
“Are you sure you don’t have any of that same dress on a rack in here somewhere?”
The clerk’s eyes cautiously traveled the length of Willow’s frame guesstimating waist, hip, and bust size. Then she pressed the tip of her index finger against her chin and narrowed her gaze. “Unless you suddenly shrink to a size two….”
Anger buzzed between Willow’s ears at the criticism and she found herself itching to do something drastic. What would it really hurt if this woman suddenly grew a tail? Or maybe sprouted some whiskers?
Just before Willow raised a finger though, Fred grabbed her by the arm and flashed the clerk a smile. “Thanks for your time, ma’am, but I think we’re done here.”
“Mmm-hmm,” the woman replied tightly. “You have a good day now.”
Once Fred and Willow were back outside, Willow opened her mouth to protest, to bitch out that woman for ruining her day. Before she could though, Fred reached into her purse and showed Willow the unmistakable corner of the dress from the window. Except that it wasn’t the one from the window because when she turned around to look at the storefront, the mannequin was staring back at her still wearing the ivory dress.
“How did you…?” Willow stammered.
Fred grinned conspiratorially, which only made Willow feel more nervous
“But…but…shop-lifting,” Willow said weakly, remembering Dawn’s stint with stealing several years ago and the “Want, Take, Have” motto that Faith always followed. But Fred wasn’t like that, was she? Especially since Fred had been freaking out about Willow switching places with mannequins in the windows earlier today.
“What did you...? How did you...?” Willow was flustered and unable to find the words to finish her sentences, but the look on Fred’s face assured her that an answer was coming.
Fred chuckled, finally letting the cat out of the bag. "There was another girl cleaning bras out of the dressing room. She rang me up no problem."
Willow was stunned that Fred had bought the dress for her. She was positive that it couldn't have been cheap and she knew there wasn't much money in science unless you were working for a greedy pharmaceutical company or a...law firm that happened to be located in about a million different dimensions.
"You deserve to look beautiful at your warlock party in the dress you wanted to wear so I figured it was worth it.” Fred continued, taking in Willow’s expression. “You may want to make a few adjustments though. The jerky clerk was sadly right about the only one in the store being a size two.”
Willow nodded, mouthing a "Thank You" as they headed towards the churro stand. The melodic strains of Willow’s cell phone tune forced them to take another pause. Willow pulled the phone out of her pocket, looked down at the display, and gulped a little as she flipped it open.
Chapter 6