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snoggedI got my Which Willow fic done! *bounces* It's certainly nice to cross something off my massive to-do list and I hope that you all enjoy it.
~snogged
Title: Can't Take My Eyes Off You (1/2)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns them. I don't.
Rating: Part 1 is FRT/PG-13. Part 2 will be NC-17/FRAO
Chapter Warnings: adult language, animal cruelty/death, guns/violence, sexual phrases but nothing explicit
Word count: 4751
Pairing: Willow/Spike. Minor pairings: Willow/Oz, Xander/Cordelia, Angelus/Drusilla
Timeline: BTVS, Season Two – “I Only Have Eyes For You.” Some of the lines were directly taken from the episode.
Summary: (This was written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
whichwillow prompt challenge. Willow and Spike get possessed by the dead lovers' spirits instead of Buffy and Angel.)
A/N: many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kallie_kat and spikeredqueen. You are my rocks of support and I couldn't do this stuff without you. I'd also like to thank dragonydreams for doing a fabulous job with the community.
*artwork done by me.
“Oh my god, what is that woman wearing? It looks like a trash bag someone spray-painted gold. Someone should really tell her that the Hefty look is so totally never.” Cordelia crinkled her nose and rolled her eyes in disgust.
Willow glanced over at the stage and her lips curled into smile without even thinking about it. It was obvious the singer’s wardrobe was operating on the principle that humans and fish are attracted to shiny things. But it had obviously forgotten to take Cordelia Chase’s nosy opinion into account.
Xander subtly threaded his fingers through Cordelia’s and looked at Willow. Willow felt her heart strings tear and wished that Oz didn’t have band practice tonight. If he were here, she wouldn’t be obsessing over the tiny detail that her crush was in a stupid relationship with the meanest woman in school.
“Hey Will, have you seen the Buffster around? She went to the ladies’ room like two hours ago. Don’t you girls bring friends along? For all the secret, naughty stuff?”
“You’re a pig, Xander,” Cordelia snapped.
Willow rolled her eyes; feeling unusually used to Xander’s pervy quips. “I’ll go check on her.”
She walked into the restroom and frowned. The cleaning staff had been slacking on their duties and there was no way anything in here could be sanitary or worth sticking around for longer than five minutes.
“Buffy?”
Willow waited a moment before sighing deeply. Buffy was probably in a dark corner somewhere moping about Angel, who was now a really nasty, sadistic vampire instead of a rather nice but broody vampire with a soul.
It wasn’t like she could blame her for feeling that way. Buffy had spent countless hours before Oz listening to Willow’s miserable inability to attract Xander’s romantic attentions. And it would be the appropriate best friend thing to do to go find Buffy and spend some quality time down on 123 Lonely Place, Mope Ville USA.
* * *
The next morning was just like any other, only she was teaching Jenny Calendar’s Computer Science class and she felt like she was standing on pins and needles. She knew the show had to go on and stuff, but it still felt so surreal being behind the teacher’s desk instead of in front of it. Jenny had only died a mere two weeks ago but Willow desperately wanted to do anything she could to ease the pain of losing one of the best teachers and friends this school had ever had, if only just for one second. They deserved at least that much. She shuffled the papers in her hands and forced a smile.
“So, for next time read the chapters on information grouping and binary coding. I bet you'll think coding is pretty cool. I mean, if you find two-digit, multi-stacked conversions and primary number clusters a big hoot.”
The class chuckled at her computer humor and Willow felt a surge of joy go through her. She probably could have broken out into the happy dance she saved for her bedroom mirror but she was a professional and Giles was staring right at her.
“Hey, Giles. Did you hear that? I made them laugh. Nothing beats the sweet chorus of high school geek laughter in the morning, you know?”
Giles shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “I…I wanted to see if you needed anything. But you seem to be doing just fine.”
Willow shrugged. “Stepping into the teacher’s shoes seems to be a good job for me. I mean, I’m not literally wearing Jenny’s shoes ‘cause that would be weird. But I…” She watched Giles’ face fall and her ramble came to an instant halt. “Everything’s fine, Giles. Jenny was very organized and I even found some of these old books and websites she had on Paganism. It sounds really…nifty.”
Willow paused and opened the top desk drawer, pulling out a pinkish-colored rock on a piece of black cording. She closed her hand around it for a brief moment, as if to channel her own positive energies into it. “I found this in her desk. It’s rose quartz. Erm…I guess it has healing properties, although I’m not really up on my gemstones and crystals yet. I think she’d want you to have it.”
The barest hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Giles’s mouth and Willow knew she had done her good deed for the day.
* * *
Willow had always loved her free periods because they gave her chance to pour through the Giles-approved collection of demon folklore. She figured it couldn’t hurt to learn more about the hellmouth she lived on and every so often, she would stumble on a gem for proper werewolf care that Oz might like on his three hairy days of the month.
She grabbed the book off the top of the pile and a look of confusion crossed her face. What was Giles doing with a Sunnydale yearbook from 1955? Even so, she felt compelled to open the cover and flip through the pages. It was almost like an invisible hand was pulling against hers to make sure she stopped at the right place. The tugging stopped at the obituary section and the face of a beautiful woman smiled back at her. Willow traced her fingers around the outline of the image and she glanced at the name below it. Grace Newman.
“Giles?” Willow tilted her head towards the librarian’s office, hoping she could get him to emerge.
“Giles! We have a problem.” Buffy’s voice was noticeably louder than her own and Willow closed the yearbook in the interest of what her friend the superhero had to say. Xander looked like he was itching to talk as well. Clearly, he had been involved in whatever happened to Buffy.
Giles emerged from his office and pulled off his glasses, partaking once again in his nervous habit that Willow couldn’t help but find a little adorable. Giles set the glasses back on the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “And what is the problem?”
“I bet Buffy found Xander and Cordelia making out in the broom closet. I know I’d need therapy after that,” Willow joked.
“We’ve got seriously creepy ghosties, Giles,” Buffy replied, easily brushing off Willow’s comment like it was a bug on her shoulder.
Willow frowned but shrugged it off. She couldn’t keep up her funny streak all day and besides, computer programming jokes were more her style anyway.
“Example, I was in class today and I kinda zoned out for like a second but I looked up and the teacher had written the phrase ‘Don’t walk away from me, bitch’ on the board,” Buffy continued, placing her hands on her hips. “It was totally cryptic.”
“Yeah,” Xander chimed in. “And I opened up my locker and boom! Monster hand leapt out and grabbed me. Buffy was able to get him off and when we opened the locker again, he was gone, without a trace that anything was ever there to start with.”
Willow couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the idea of ghosts creeping around Sunnydale. Then again, she had always been a sucker for ghost stories ever since she was a little kid. Sure, finding out they were real bordered on scary and creepy, but ghosts had messages and she loved cracking the codes on messages.
“I think it would be kinda cool if there were ghosts haunting the halls of Sunnydale,” Willow admitted, a smile creeping across her face.
“I don’t think it would, Willow,” Giles said sternly. “Ghosts are extremely dangerous. Especially the kind that can touch you and control matter. If something grabbed Xander or wrote on the chalkboard in Buffy’s classroom, then I suspect we’re dealing with a poltergeist.”
Xander raised his finger and Willow could swear she saw the 60-watt light bulb in his head turn on full blast. “So, we do the research thing, Buffy does the slaying thing, and if that fails, we call in the reinforcements.” He paused, making sure he had the full attention of his audience. “’Cause when there’s something strange, in the neighborhood…who you gonna call…GHOSTBUSTERS!”
“One more reason why I need to stop hanging out with you losers,” Cordelia sneered, strutting into the library on a particularly dangerous looking pair of stiletto high heels that detracted some of the attention away from her hair, which was sticking out all over the place. “Can we cut the song and dance and get to the real issues? Like, why I am having the worst hair day ever? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Marcie Ross is back in Sunnydale because seriously, I don’t have hair problems like this.”
Giles cleared his throat. “We have a ghost, Cordelia. Now, I suggest you all sit down and start doing research. Willow, please collect the volumes from the second level. You’ll find them on the third and fourth shelves, I believe.”
Willow nodded and moved towards to the upper stacks. Once she was safely out of earshot, she giggled. A ghost that was willing to mess up Cordy’s precious hair was a friend in her book. She was also feeling pretty certain that the recent string of ghostly effects had everything to do with Ms. Grace Newman.
***
Spike was bloody pissed and the cracked holes in the base of the drywall were bearing the brunt of it. What the fuck was Angelus thinking when he decided to move them here? This mansion was a glorified shit-hole filled with extra special sun killing windows that were also perfect for any Slayer voyeurs that happened to walk by. They could have easily just moved into another abandoned factory that the damn Slayer wouldn’t even know about.
He heard the pattering of slipper-covered footsteps and he slumped back into the wheelchair. It wasn’t time for them to know he could walk yet. That part needed to come as a surprise.
“Ruff!” Drusilla barked, languidly swaying her hips to the sound of an imaginary tune. He rolled his eyes at the site of the mangy, ankle biter she held her arms. He was getting sick of her bringing him damn dogs these last few days. He figured she would have gotten the picture after what happened to dear old Sunshine. “Daddy’s been a bad boy. Broken his new toy. Shouldn’t give him a new one. But he likes the squeaks ever so much.”
“Is that right, Dru?” Spike asked, feigning interest.
Drusilla smiled and placed the puppy in his lap. “Give your new toy a kiss, my sweet. Make her squeak for mummy.”
Spike took one look at the dog and his face shifted, fangs slightly brushing against his lower lip. “Don’t want another bloody dog, Dru!” The poor dog didn’t stand a chance as Spike’s hands wrapped around its tiny neck and snapped it in a half.
Drusilla stuck out her bottom lip and whimpered, tears forming in her eyes. “Bad boy. Should be punished.”
Spike rolled his wheelchair towards the door, slipping past her. “Sorry, love. Just a bit restless is all. A bit of a stroll might do me some good.”
“But you’re weak,” Drusilla pouted. “And you spoiled your dinner.” She looked forlornly at the discarded form of the puppy and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I promise I won’t get any dessert then,” Spike replied, expertly maneuvering himself out the door.
Once he was a safe distance away, he rose from the chair and chucked it into a clump of bushes. He could see the flickering lights of Sunnydale High School a mere mile ahead of him and he wondered if there were any tasty sports players around that were staying late for practice.
The Slayer certainly wouldn’t be there this late. Dumb bint probably had her cronies working their little fingers to the bone though, studying up for whatever big nasty lurked in the closets of school children.
Either way, he had a distinct feeling that it wouldn’t hurt to look. There was something in the air that made him feel pretty confident about avoiding any nasty run-ins with a stake.
He easily pushed through the front doors and a devilish grin crossed his face as a stoutly female teacher almost ran right into him. She was pale as death and the sweet smell of fear coursing through her veins was intoxicating.
“Oh, sorry,” she muttered. “Didn’t see where I was going.”
“Everything all right, ma’am?”
The woman blinked, obviously rattled by whatever had just happened to her. “Are you a police officer?”
“Yes ma’am. Undercover agent.” Spike sniffed the air and found the faintest trace of gun powder. “Heard a gunshot go off. Came to check it out.”
The woman nodded and pressed herself tighter against him. “It was awful. I don’t know what came over him. There was just this…”
Spike’s face shifted and he grabbed a handful of the woman’s hair. “It’ll get taken care of, ma’am.” The woman’s jaw dropped in surprise as his fangs sunk into her neck. In Sunnydale, the odds weren’t high that you would escape death more than once.
Spike glowed with pride as the warm blood coursed down the back of his throat. Women could be so stupid when they were looking for some big, strong man to take care of them. He remembered the old days when he and Angelus would stumble across the battered broads of English gentlemen who were just craving the safe and protective arms of handsome, kind men.
He let the body drop at the sound of footsteps and the smell of tweed. The Watcher was in the building and Spike wasn’t taking a chance with the Brit’s new penchant for setting things on fire.
***
Giles wiped the sweat off his brow and entered the library. The janitor had certainly put up more of a struggle than he ever could have anticipated and he still couldn’t believe that the weapon had just disappeared so easily once it had flown from George’s hand.
“I have reason to suspect that the ghost haunting the halls of Sunnydale is Jenny,” Giles replied before launching into a diatribe of what he had just seen take place.
Willow, Buffy, Cordelia, Xander, and Oz looked up from the stack of books they had been perusing for the last hour and Cordelia was the first one to wrinkle her nose in annoyance.
“If you knew who it was the whole time, why did you make us look through these dusty old things? Some of us would rather be shoe shopping, you know.”
Willow tilted her head. “Giles, there was no gun when Jenny died. The medical examiner said her neck had been broken. All of the books say that if a weapon is involved with a ghost, it has a link to how that person died. There should be a pattern.”
Buffy nodded, eagerly pushing a stack of books towards the center of the table. “Willow’s right, Giles. This probably has everything to do with that Grace chick Willow told us about before.”
Willow reached for her bag and pulled out her trusty MacBook. “It’ll just take me a second to find…”
Giles crossed his arms over his chest and Willow could swear she saw a possible temper tantrum flare up behind his eyes. But luckily he didn’t say a word. He was probably waiting for her to walk right into a big hole of ‘I told you so.’
Her fingers methodically worked the key pad and soon the archives of the Sunnydale Times were up on the screen, complete with a large picture of Grace Newman and another image of a boy. According to the article, his name was James and he had committed suicide after shooting Grace back in 1955. They had been involved in a romantic love affair that had spiraled out of control.
Willow blinked. So there were two possibilities behind the recent ghost attacks at school and there was no way that Jenny could be behind this at all. And not only that, the date of Grace and James’s death was the same as tomorrow’s date. The day of the annual Sadie Hawkin’s Dance at Sunnydale High.
Buffy pulled a stake out of her pocket and flipped it into the air, catching it in her palm without the slightest problem. “So, how do we make these ghosties materialize so I can stake their asses?”
Giles shook his head. “Ghosts can’t materialize. Our best approach would be to do a cleansing ritual, and even that might not work.”
“What about an exorcism?” Xander offered. “Could be fun to see Cordy get puke in her hair from a spinning head. Might actually improve her current look.”
Cordelia punched him in the shoulder and scowled. “Exorcisms don’t work on ghosts, stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!” Xander shouted. “You’re stupid. And besides, they totally work on ghosts. I’ve seen the movies! I know how it all works.”
“Hey guys,” Willow offered, hoping to put the kibosh on the fight between her best friend and her enemy. “What if we make the ghost possess one of us? There might be a way for Buffy to destroy it from within. I think she has the strength to change the pattern. You know, put an end to the cycle once and for all?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Will, but the idea of some spirit lurking around inside me ranks about a bazillion on the gross factor.”
Willow sighed, knowing that her idea was probably the most ridiculous thing to ever leave her mouth. Oz gave her a reassuring kiss on the cheek and she snuggled against his shoulder as her friends continued to argue about the best way to exterminate a ghost.
***
The next morning came without much of a fuss. The night before the Scoobies had voted in favor of Giles’s idea and during the dance tonight, they would be performing the ritual out of sight from the students who had no clue such supernatural forces existed in this town.
The students in Willow’s computer class had even come prepared today, which made Willow wonder if Grace’s knack for academic success was part of her ghostly prowess.
Lunchtime, however, brought the Sunnydale cafeteria to a new level of unsanitary practices.
Willow was the first to leap from her chair as the plate of harmless looking spaghetti transformed into a pile of writhing snakes, some of which she knew were poisonous.
“AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” Cordelia’s scream echoed through the room as the fangs of an unidentifiable black snake pierced her cheek. It didn’t take long for the students to stampede from the premises, a few snakes slithering along behind them.
Of course, school was promptly cancelled, which gave them a little more time to deal with the ritual preparation, which would take place in Buffy’s living room since Joyce was out of town at an art exhibition.
Willow curled up with a couch cushion in her lap as Giles explained the concept of a Mangus triangle. She had remembered learning about it in one of Jenny’s old files but she figured Giles might be the better expert on this one. The goal behind the ritual would be to bind the bad spirits so that no further harm could be done and then a final phrase would exterminate the ghosts once and for all.
“Couldn’t we just talk to them? Find out what they want?” Willow asked. Her undeniable ability for compassion towards all things once again showed through her quiet exterior.
“There is no way I’m messing around with a Ouija board,” Cordelia said, exasperated. “I hate those things.”
“There are better ways to interact with the spiritual realm than a Ouija board. There are spells and rituals that can control what is being brought in. It’s like a water purification filter. Ouija boards can’t control for that so they tend to let nasty things go through too,” Willow explained.
“Let’s just stick with the current plan. It’s pretty clear to me that these ghosts don’t need to say anything else. They’re just like any other baddie. They go poof and the world parties. Or… at least, we do that last part,” Buffy said.
Willow shrugged, offering a sign of surrender. It was clear that her ideas weren’t going to be welcome today. “I’m gonna grab some juice; anyone else want something?”
No one responded so Willow took that as a unanimous “no.” She stepped into the kitchen and glanced down at the flyer someone must have left on the counter. It was for the Sadie Hawkins Dance. But it was from 1955.
“Willow.”
Willow turned to see who might have followed her but there was no one there. She couldn’t ignore the definite shivers creeping up and down her spine. The voice was also not female like she had expected it to be. This time she suspected that James was trying to talk to her. It was entirely possible that Grace’s soul was tied directly to the school and James was more of a free-floating ghost.
“I need you.”
Willow blinked. “I think you need Buffy. She’s the strong one. Not me.”
“I need you,” the voice repeated.
Willow nodded and her legs moved of their own accord. Dusk had fallen and the night air felt warm against her skin as she walked towards the high school.
Little did she know, she was not alone on her journey. A peroxide blond vampire on the hunt for the meal he wasn’t getting at home had picked up on her scent and he was eager to track it.
Willow got to the front doors of the school and frowned. A swarm of dark, buzzing locusts blocked her way.
“I’m pretty sure those weren’t there before,” she muttered.
“Willow.”
Willow stepped cautiously towards the doors, praying that the ghosts who wanted her presence so badly wouldn’t let the locusts sting her to death first. As if on cue, the locusts parted and Willow entered the building, walking down the hallway towards the balcony where the murder took place so many years ago.
“Interesting fact about locusts? They have no taste for the undead.”
Willow pivoted at the sound of the silky, British accent and wished that this scene didn’t have the same markings as the one where Angelus had attacked her. That being said, Buffy had told her Spike was in a wheelchair when she and Giles had attacked the factory. It was pretty clear that wheels were not apart of Spike’s current posture.
“You…you’re…” Willow stammered.
“I’ve got legs, Red,” Spike grinned, darting towards her and pinning her arms to her sides. He pushed one leg between her thighs and his fangs dropped. “I could show all kinds of marvelous uses for ‘em.”
Willow’s breath hitched and fear flickered in her eyes. She could only imagine all the possible things Spike could mean by that statement.
But then something changed. Like something was sliding into her. Something stronger. She wrestled her arms free and glared daggers at Spike.
“You’re the only person I can talk too.”
Spike snorted. “I really don’t fancy a chat, love. But I’ll take you for a right shag through the wall if you make those pretty lips of yours beg real nice for it.”
“You can’t make me disappear just because you say it’s over.”
“Over? We haven’t even started this bloody game yet.” But then, his face changed and softened. His eyes masked a hidden sadness. “I want you to have the life I could never give you. A normal one. A life suited for a teenager.”
“I’m not a child,” Willow insisted. “I’m going crazy without you. Every minute is like I’m losing air. I can’t breathe without you.”
Spike’s hand pressed against her cheek and Willow titled her head against it, tears burning the corners of her eyes.
“I know. But I’m sorry. We can’t…it has to be over.”
Spike turned and slowly walked away from the redhead, heading towards the stairs.
“We’re not done here!” Willow cried, feeling the pressure of a handgun in her palm. “Tell me you don’t love me! Look me in the eyes and say it!”
Spike clutched his hands to his chest, barely finding the strength to turn around and say the words he was sure he couldn’t say.
“Is that what you want to hear? Then, fine, I don’t. I don’t.”
“You can’t just stop loving somebody! Love is forever.”
She lifted the gun and wrapped her index finger around the trigger. Spike’s mouth dropped and his eyes filled with terror. His legs broke out into a sprint, hoping to escape the potential wrath of his scorned lover.
“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME, BITCH!”
She chased after him, her legs carrying her faster than they ever have before until a rush of wind smacked her in the face. This was the balcony. This was where it all happened but Willow couldn’t fight against the possession to change the pattern. She wasn’t strong enough for that.
“Just calm down, James. Give me the gun. You don’t want anyone to get hurt do you?”
“I’m not a damn child,” Willow hissed. “Don’t you dare think you can get off treating me like one.” She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. Her breath hitched as the gunshot exploded in her ears and she heard the thud of a body hitting the ground below.
“NO!” Willow screamed, rushing to the edge of the railing. “Oh god! Don’t be dead, don’t be dead.”
But the leather-clad body below wasn’t moving.
Willow clutched the gun and broke out into the second sprint of the evening, crashing through the doors of the music room and tumbling into a music stand. The record player was belting out a sad tune and Willow knew if the story was right, her brains were going to become the new decoration on the bare walls. Her plan would have been useless after all. The same thing would have happened to Buffy too.
The barrel of the gun touched her temple and she was surprised to feel cool hands wrap around her wrist and force her to release the weapon. The gun clattered to the floor and Willow looked down at the ground in astonishment.
“You don’t have to do it,” Spike whispered. “I’m here, baby.”
“But I killed you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It was an accident. You didn’t mean it.”
“But I…”
Spike threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed his forehead against hers. “I never stopped loving you, James. I loved you with my last breath.”
His lips crushed against hers, silencing her sobs. His arms wrapped tightly around her as their bodies burned with a white glow. The ghosts inside of them were finding their release, knowing that the love they had would be forever.
Spike’s hand dropped to the swell of Willow’s ass and he pressed his pelvis against hers. Willow gasped as she felt the poke of a hardening dick against her pubic mound and she pulled back from the kiss.
Spike growled and tightened his grip on her. “Not so fast, Red. Can’t let a little ghostly possession stand in the way of my original plans.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” the Slayer’s voice echoed through the music room. “I’d advise you to let her go.”
Spike snorted, “After what I just went through, I bloody well deserve this.”
Buffy closed the distance between them, and dug her nails into Spike’s shoulder, effortlessly pulling the vampire off of her friend.
“You’ve got a one way ticket back to paralysis town if you don’t get the hell out of here,” Buffy warned, gripping the base of her stake.
Spike scowled and sprinted towards the window, diving headfirst through the glass pane. His coat billowed out behind him as he dropped to the ground and took off in a sprint. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Red knew what was good for her, they would be meeting again very soon.
“You okay, Will?” Buffy asked, picking up Willow’s arm and draping it across her shoulder.
“Never been better,” Willow answered, collapsing against her friend. She couldn’t help but feel the tingle on her lips where Spike had kissed her. It was nothing like the kisses she got from Oz, and she had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be forgetting that kiss anytime soon.
Part 2
~snogged
Title: Can't Take My Eyes Off You (1/2)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns them. I don't.
Rating: Part 1 is FRT/PG-13. Part 2 will be NC-17/FRAO
Chapter Warnings: adult language, animal cruelty/death, guns/violence, sexual phrases but nothing explicit
Word count: 4751
Pairing: Willow/Spike. Minor pairings: Willow/Oz, Xander/Cordelia, Angelus/Drusilla
Timeline: BTVS, Season Two – “I Only Have Eyes For You.” Some of the lines were directly taken from the episode.
Summary: (This was written for the
whichwillow prompt challenge. Willow and Spike get possessed by the dead lovers' spirits instead of Buffy and Angel.) A/N: many thanks to
kallie_kat and spikeredqueen. You are my rocks of support and I couldn't do this stuff without you. I'd also like to thank dragonydreams for doing a fabulous job with the community.
*artwork done by me.
“Oh my god, what is that woman wearing? It looks like a trash bag someone spray-painted gold. Someone should really tell her that the Hefty look is so totally never.” Cordelia crinkled her nose and rolled her eyes in disgust.
Willow glanced over at the stage and her lips curled into smile without even thinking about it. It was obvious the singer’s wardrobe was operating on the principle that humans and fish are attracted to shiny things. But it had obviously forgotten to take Cordelia Chase’s nosy opinion into account.
Xander subtly threaded his fingers through Cordelia’s and looked at Willow. Willow felt her heart strings tear and wished that Oz didn’t have band practice tonight. If he were here, she wouldn’t be obsessing over the tiny detail that her crush was in a stupid relationship with the meanest woman in school.
“Hey Will, have you seen the Buffster around? She went to the ladies’ room like two hours ago. Don’t you girls bring friends along? For all the secret, naughty stuff?”
“You’re a pig, Xander,” Cordelia snapped.
Willow rolled her eyes; feeling unusually used to Xander’s pervy quips. “I’ll go check on her.”
She walked into the restroom and frowned. The cleaning staff had been slacking on their duties and there was no way anything in here could be sanitary or worth sticking around for longer than five minutes.
“Buffy?”
Willow waited a moment before sighing deeply. Buffy was probably in a dark corner somewhere moping about Angel, who was now a really nasty, sadistic vampire instead of a rather nice but broody vampire with a soul.
It wasn’t like she could blame her for feeling that way. Buffy had spent countless hours before Oz listening to Willow’s miserable inability to attract Xander’s romantic attentions. And it would be the appropriate best friend thing to do to go find Buffy and spend some quality time down on 123 Lonely Place, Mope Ville USA.
* * *
The next morning was just like any other, only she was teaching Jenny Calendar’s Computer Science class and she felt like she was standing on pins and needles. She knew the show had to go on and stuff, but it still felt so surreal being behind the teacher’s desk instead of in front of it. Jenny had only died a mere two weeks ago but Willow desperately wanted to do anything she could to ease the pain of losing one of the best teachers and friends this school had ever had, if only just for one second. They deserved at least that much. She shuffled the papers in her hands and forced a smile.
“So, for next time read the chapters on information grouping and binary coding. I bet you'll think coding is pretty cool. I mean, if you find two-digit, multi-stacked conversions and primary number clusters a big hoot.”
The class chuckled at her computer humor and Willow felt a surge of joy go through her. She probably could have broken out into the happy dance she saved for her bedroom mirror but she was a professional and Giles was staring right at her.
“Hey, Giles. Did you hear that? I made them laugh. Nothing beats the sweet chorus of high school geek laughter in the morning, you know?”
Giles shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “I…I wanted to see if you needed anything. But you seem to be doing just fine.”
Willow shrugged. “Stepping into the teacher’s shoes seems to be a good job for me. I mean, I’m not literally wearing Jenny’s shoes ‘cause that would be weird. But I…” She watched Giles’ face fall and her ramble came to an instant halt. “Everything’s fine, Giles. Jenny was very organized and I even found some of these old books and websites she had on Paganism. It sounds really…nifty.”
Willow paused and opened the top desk drawer, pulling out a pinkish-colored rock on a piece of black cording. She closed her hand around it for a brief moment, as if to channel her own positive energies into it. “I found this in her desk. It’s rose quartz. Erm…I guess it has healing properties, although I’m not really up on my gemstones and crystals yet. I think she’d want you to have it.”
The barest hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Giles’s mouth and Willow knew she had done her good deed for the day.
* * *
Willow had always loved her free periods because they gave her chance to pour through the Giles-approved collection of demon folklore. She figured it couldn’t hurt to learn more about the hellmouth she lived on and every so often, she would stumble on a gem for proper werewolf care that Oz might like on his three hairy days of the month.
She grabbed the book off the top of the pile and a look of confusion crossed her face. What was Giles doing with a Sunnydale yearbook from 1955? Even so, she felt compelled to open the cover and flip through the pages. It was almost like an invisible hand was pulling against hers to make sure she stopped at the right place. The tugging stopped at the obituary section and the face of a beautiful woman smiled back at her. Willow traced her fingers around the outline of the image and she glanced at the name below it. Grace Newman.
“Giles?” Willow tilted her head towards the librarian’s office, hoping she could get him to emerge.
“Giles! We have a problem.” Buffy’s voice was noticeably louder than her own and Willow closed the yearbook in the interest of what her friend the superhero had to say. Xander looked like he was itching to talk as well. Clearly, he had been involved in whatever happened to Buffy.
Giles emerged from his office and pulled off his glasses, partaking once again in his nervous habit that Willow couldn’t help but find a little adorable. Giles set the glasses back on the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “And what is the problem?”
“I bet Buffy found Xander and Cordelia making out in the broom closet. I know I’d need therapy after that,” Willow joked.
“We’ve got seriously creepy ghosties, Giles,” Buffy replied, easily brushing off Willow’s comment like it was a bug on her shoulder.
Willow frowned but shrugged it off. She couldn’t keep up her funny streak all day and besides, computer programming jokes were more her style anyway.
“Example, I was in class today and I kinda zoned out for like a second but I looked up and the teacher had written the phrase ‘Don’t walk away from me, bitch’ on the board,” Buffy continued, placing her hands on her hips. “It was totally cryptic.”
“Yeah,” Xander chimed in. “And I opened up my locker and boom! Monster hand leapt out and grabbed me. Buffy was able to get him off and when we opened the locker again, he was gone, without a trace that anything was ever there to start with.”
Willow couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the idea of ghosts creeping around Sunnydale. Then again, she had always been a sucker for ghost stories ever since she was a little kid. Sure, finding out they were real bordered on scary and creepy, but ghosts had messages and she loved cracking the codes on messages.
“I think it would be kinda cool if there were ghosts haunting the halls of Sunnydale,” Willow admitted, a smile creeping across her face.
“I don’t think it would, Willow,” Giles said sternly. “Ghosts are extremely dangerous. Especially the kind that can touch you and control matter. If something grabbed Xander or wrote on the chalkboard in Buffy’s classroom, then I suspect we’re dealing with a poltergeist.”
Xander raised his finger and Willow could swear she saw the 60-watt light bulb in his head turn on full blast. “So, we do the research thing, Buffy does the slaying thing, and if that fails, we call in the reinforcements.” He paused, making sure he had the full attention of his audience. “’Cause when there’s something strange, in the neighborhood…who you gonna call…GHOSTBUSTERS!”
“One more reason why I need to stop hanging out with you losers,” Cordelia sneered, strutting into the library on a particularly dangerous looking pair of stiletto high heels that detracted some of the attention away from her hair, which was sticking out all over the place. “Can we cut the song and dance and get to the real issues? Like, why I am having the worst hair day ever? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Marcie Ross is back in Sunnydale because seriously, I don’t have hair problems like this.”
Giles cleared his throat. “We have a ghost, Cordelia. Now, I suggest you all sit down and start doing research. Willow, please collect the volumes from the second level. You’ll find them on the third and fourth shelves, I believe.”
Willow nodded and moved towards to the upper stacks. Once she was safely out of earshot, she giggled. A ghost that was willing to mess up Cordy’s precious hair was a friend in her book. She was also feeling pretty certain that the recent string of ghostly effects had everything to do with Ms. Grace Newman.
***
Spike was bloody pissed and the cracked holes in the base of the drywall were bearing the brunt of it. What the fuck was Angelus thinking when he decided to move them here? This mansion was a glorified shit-hole filled with extra special sun killing windows that were also perfect for any Slayer voyeurs that happened to walk by. They could have easily just moved into another abandoned factory that the damn Slayer wouldn’t even know about.
He heard the pattering of slipper-covered footsteps and he slumped back into the wheelchair. It wasn’t time for them to know he could walk yet. That part needed to come as a surprise.
“Ruff!” Drusilla barked, languidly swaying her hips to the sound of an imaginary tune. He rolled his eyes at the site of the mangy, ankle biter she held her arms. He was getting sick of her bringing him damn dogs these last few days. He figured she would have gotten the picture after what happened to dear old Sunshine. “Daddy’s been a bad boy. Broken his new toy. Shouldn’t give him a new one. But he likes the squeaks ever so much.”
“Is that right, Dru?” Spike asked, feigning interest.
Drusilla smiled and placed the puppy in his lap. “Give your new toy a kiss, my sweet. Make her squeak for mummy.”
Spike took one look at the dog and his face shifted, fangs slightly brushing against his lower lip. “Don’t want another bloody dog, Dru!” The poor dog didn’t stand a chance as Spike’s hands wrapped around its tiny neck and snapped it in a half.
Drusilla stuck out her bottom lip and whimpered, tears forming in her eyes. “Bad boy. Should be punished.”
Spike rolled his wheelchair towards the door, slipping past her. “Sorry, love. Just a bit restless is all. A bit of a stroll might do me some good.”
“But you’re weak,” Drusilla pouted. “And you spoiled your dinner.” She looked forlornly at the discarded form of the puppy and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I promise I won’t get any dessert then,” Spike replied, expertly maneuvering himself out the door.
Once he was a safe distance away, he rose from the chair and chucked it into a clump of bushes. He could see the flickering lights of Sunnydale High School a mere mile ahead of him and he wondered if there were any tasty sports players around that were staying late for practice.
The Slayer certainly wouldn’t be there this late. Dumb bint probably had her cronies working their little fingers to the bone though, studying up for whatever big nasty lurked in the closets of school children.
Either way, he had a distinct feeling that it wouldn’t hurt to look. There was something in the air that made him feel pretty confident about avoiding any nasty run-ins with a stake.
He easily pushed through the front doors and a devilish grin crossed his face as a stoutly female teacher almost ran right into him. She was pale as death and the sweet smell of fear coursing through her veins was intoxicating.
“Oh, sorry,” she muttered. “Didn’t see where I was going.”
“Everything all right, ma’am?”
The woman blinked, obviously rattled by whatever had just happened to her. “Are you a police officer?”
“Yes ma’am. Undercover agent.” Spike sniffed the air and found the faintest trace of gun powder. “Heard a gunshot go off. Came to check it out.”
The woman nodded and pressed herself tighter against him. “It was awful. I don’t know what came over him. There was just this…”
Spike’s face shifted and he grabbed a handful of the woman’s hair. “It’ll get taken care of, ma’am.” The woman’s jaw dropped in surprise as his fangs sunk into her neck. In Sunnydale, the odds weren’t high that you would escape death more than once.
Spike glowed with pride as the warm blood coursed down the back of his throat. Women could be so stupid when they were looking for some big, strong man to take care of them. He remembered the old days when he and Angelus would stumble across the battered broads of English gentlemen who were just craving the safe and protective arms of handsome, kind men.
He let the body drop at the sound of footsteps and the smell of tweed. The Watcher was in the building and Spike wasn’t taking a chance with the Brit’s new penchant for setting things on fire.
***
Giles wiped the sweat off his brow and entered the library. The janitor had certainly put up more of a struggle than he ever could have anticipated and he still couldn’t believe that the weapon had just disappeared so easily once it had flown from George’s hand.
“I have reason to suspect that the ghost haunting the halls of Sunnydale is Jenny,” Giles replied before launching into a diatribe of what he had just seen take place.
Willow, Buffy, Cordelia, Xander, and Oz looked up from the stack of books they had been perusing for the last hour and Cordelia was the first one to wrinkle her nose in annoyance.
“If you knew who it was the whole time, why did you make us look through these dusty old things? Some of us would rather be shoe shopping, you know.”
Willow tilted her head. “Giles, there was no gun when Jenny died. The medical examiner said her neck had been broken. All of the books say that if a weapon is involved with a ghost, it has a link to how that person died. There should be a pattern.”
Buffy nodded, eagerly pushing a stack of books towards the center of the table. “Willow’s right, Giles. This probably has everything to do with that Grace chick Willow told us about before.”
Willow reached for her bag and pulled out her trusty MacBook. “It’ll just take me a second to find…”
Giles crossed his arms over his chest and Willow could swear she saw a possible temper tantrum flare up behind his eyes. But luckily he didn’t say a word. He was probably waiting for her to walk right into a big hole of ‘I told you so.’
Her fingers methodically worked the key pad and soon the archives of the Sunnydale Times were up on the screen, complete with a large picture of Grace Newman and another image of a boy. According to the article, his name was James and he had committed suicide after shooting Grace back in 1955. They had been involved in a romantic love affair that had spiraled out of control.
Willow blinked. So there were two possibilities behind the recent ghost attacks at school and there was no way that Jenny could be behind this at all. And not only that, the date of Grace and James’s death was the same as tomorrow’s date. The day of the annual Sadie Hawkin’s Dance at Sunnydale High.
Buffy pulled a stake out of her pocket and flipped it into the air, catching it in her palm without the slightest problem. “So, how do we make these ghosties materialize so I can stake their asses?”
Giles shook his head. “Ghosts can’t materialize. Our best approach would be to do a cleansing ritual, and even that might not work.”
“What about an exorcism?” Xander offered. “Could be fun to see Cordy get puke in her hair from a spinning head. Might actually improve her current look.”
Cordelia punched him in the shoulder and scowled. “Exorcisms don’t work on ghosts, stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!” Xander shouted. “You’re stupid. And besides, they totally work on ghosts. I’ve seen the movies! I know how it all works.”
“Hey guys,” Willow offered, hoping to put the kibosh on the fight between her best friend and her enemy. “What if we make the ghost possess one of us? There might be a way for Buffy to destroy it from within. I think she has the strength to change the pattern. You know, put an end to the cycle once and for all?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Will, but the idea of some spirit lurking around inside me ranks about a bazillion on the gross factor.”
Willow sighed, knowing that her idea was probably the most ridiculous thing to ever leave her mouth. Oz gave her a reassuring kiss on the cheek and she snuggled against his shoulder as her friends continued to argue about the best way to exterminate a ghost.
***
The next morning came without much of a fuss. The night before the Scoobies had voted in favor of Giles’s idea and during the dance tonight, they would be performing the ritual out of sight from the students who had no clue such supernatural forces existed in this town.
The students in Willow’s computer class had even come prepared today, which made Willow wonder if Grace’s knack for academic success was part of her ghostly prowess.
Lunchtime, however, brought the Sunnydale cafeteria to a new level of unsanitary practices.
Willow was the first to leap from her chair as the plate of harmless looking spaghetti transformed into a pile of writhing snakes, some of which she knew were poisonous.
“AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” Cordelia’s scream echoed through the room as the fangs of an unidentifiable black snake pierced her cheek. It didn’t take long for the students to stampede from the premises, a few snakes slithering along behind them.
Of course, school was promptly cancelled, which gave them a little more time to deal with the ritual preparation, which would take place in Buffy’s living room since Joyce was out of town at an art exhibition.
Willow curled up with a couch cushion in her lap as Giles explained the concept of a Mangus triangle. She had remembered learning about it in one of Jenny’s old files but she figured Giles might be the better expert on this one. The goal behind the ritual would be to bind the bad spirits so that no further harm could be done and then a final phrase would exterminate the ghosts once and for all.
“Couldn’t we just talk to them? Find out what they want?” Willow asked. Her undeniable ability for compassion towards all things once again showed through her quiet exterior.
“There is no way I’m messing around with a Ouija board,” Cordelia said, exasperated. “I hate those things.”
“There are better ways to interact with the spiritual realm than a Ouija board. There are spells and rituals that can control what is being brought in. It’s like a water purification filter. Ouija boards can’t control for that so they tend to let nasty things go through too,” Willow explained.
“Let’s just stick with the current plan. It’s pretty clear to me that these ghosts don’t need to say anything else. They’re just like any other baddie. They go poof and the world parties. Or… at least, we do that last part,” Buffy said.
Willow shrugged, offering a sign of surrender. It was clear that her ideas weren’t going to be welcome today. “I’m gonna grab some juice; anyone else want something?”
No one responded so Willow took that as a unanimous “no.” She stepped into the kitchen and glanced down at the flyer someone must have left on the counter. It was for the Sadie Hawkins Dance. But it was from 1955.
“Willow.”
Willow turned to see who might have followed her but there was no one there. She couldn’t ignore the definite shivers creeping up and down her spine. The voice was also not female like she had expected it to be. This time she suspected that James was trying to talk to her. It was entirely possible that Grace’s soul was tied directly to the school and James was more of a free-floating ghost.
“I need you.”
Willow blinked. “I think you need Buffy. She’s the strong one. Not me.”
“I need you,” the voice repeated.
Willow nodded and her legs moved of their own accord. Dusk had fallen and the night air felt warm against her skin as she walked towards the high school.
Little did she know, she was not alone on her journey. A peroxide blond vampire on the hunt for the meal he wasn’t getting at home had picked up on her scent and he was eager to track it.
Willow got to the front doors of the school and frowned. A swarm of dark, buzzing locusts blocked her way.
“I’m pretty sure those weren’t there before,” she muttered.
“Willow.”
Willow stepped cautiously towards the doors, praying that the ghosts who wanted her presence so badly wouldn’t let the locusts sting her to death first. As if on cue, the locusts parted and Willow entered the building, walking down the hallway towards the balcony where the murder took place so many years ago.
“Interesting fact about locusts? They have no taste for the undead.”
Willow pivoted at the sound of the silky, British accent and wished that this scene didn’t have the same markings as the one where Angelus had attacked her. That being said, Buffy had told her Spike was in a wheelchair when she and Giles had attacked the factory. It was pretty clear that wheels were not apart of Spike’s current posture.
“You…you’re…” Willow stammered.
“I’ve got legs, Red,” Spike grinned, darting towards her and pinning her arms to her sides. He pushed one leg between her thighs and his fangs dropped. “I could show all kinds of marvelous uses for ‘em.”
Willow’s breath hitched and fear flickered in her eyes. She could only imagine all the possible things Spike could mean by that statement.
But then something changed. Like something was sliding into her. Something stronger. She wrestled her arms free and glared daggers at Spike.
“You’re the only person I can talk too.”
Spike snorted. “I really don’t fancy a chat, love. But I’ll take you for a right shag through the wall if you make those pretty lips of yours beg real nice for it.”
“You can’t make me disappear just because you say it’s over.”
“Over? We haven’t even started this bloody game yet.” But then, his face changed and softened. His eyes masked a hidden sadness. “I want you to have the life I could never give you. A normal one. A life suited for a teenager.”
“I’m not a child,” Willow insisted. “I’m going crazy without you. Every minute is like I’m losing air. I can’t breathe without you.”
Spike’s hand pressed against her cheek and Willow titled her head against it, tears burning the corners of her eyes.
“I know. But I’m sorry. We can’t…it has to be over.”
Spike turned and slowly walked away from the redhead, heading towards the stairs.
“We’re not done here!” Willow cried, feeling the pressure of a handgun in her palm. “Tell me you don’t love me! Look me in the eyes and say it!”
Spike clutched his hands to his chest, barely finding the strength to turn around and say the words he was sure he couldn’t say.
“Is that what you want to hear? Then, fine, I don’t. I don’t.”
“You can’t just stop loving somebody! Love is forever.”
She lifted the gun and wrapped her index finger around the trigger. Spike’s mouth dropped and his eyes filled with terror. His legs broke out into a sprint, hoping to escape the potential wrath of his scorned lover.
“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME, BITCH!”
She chased after him, her legs carrying her faster than they ever have before until a rush of wind smacked her in the face. This was the balcony. This was where it all happened but Willow couldn’t fight against the possession to change the pattern. She wasn’t strong enough for that.
“Just calm down, James. Give me the gun. You don’t want anyone to get hurt do you?”
“I’m not a damn child,” Willow hissed. “Don’t you dare think you can get off treating me like one.” She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. Her breath hitched as the gunshot exploded in her ears and she heard the thud of a body hitting the ground below.
“NO!” Willow screamed, rushing to the edge of the railing. “Oh god! Don’t be dead, don’t be dead.”
But the leather-clad body below wasn’t moving.
Willow clutched the gun and broke out into the second sprint of the evening, crashing through the doors of the music room and tumbling into a music stand. The record player was belting out a sad tune and Willow knew if the story was right, her brains were going to become the new decoration on the bare walls. Her plan would have been useless after all. The same thing would have happened to Buffy too.
The barrel of the gun touched her temple and she was surprised to feel cool hands wrap around her wrist and force her to release the weapon. The gun clattered to the floor and Willow looked down at the ground in astonishment.
“You don’t have to do it,” Spike whispered. “I’m here, baby.”
“But I killed you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It was an accident. You didn’t mean it.”
“But I…”
Spike threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed his forehead against hers. “I never stopped loving you, James. I loved you with my last breath.”
His lips crushed against hers, silencing her sobs. His arms wrapped tightly around her as their bodies burned with a white glow. The ghosts inside of them were finding their release, knowing that the love they had would be forever.
Spike’s hand dropped to the swell of Willow’s ass and he pressed his pelvis against hers. Willow gasped as she felt the poke of a hardening dick against her pubic mound and she pulled back from the kiss.
Spike growled and tightened his grip on her. “Not so fast, Red. Can’t let a little ghostly possession stand in the way of my original plans.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” the Slayer’s voice echoed through the music room. “I’d advise you to let her go.”
Spike snorted, “After what I just went through, I bloody well deserve this.”
Buffy closed the distance between them, and dug her nails into Spike’s shoulder, effortlessly pulling the vampire off of her friend.
“You’ve got a one way ticket back to paralysis town if you don’t get the hell out of here,” Buffy warned, gripping the base of her stake.
Spike scowled and sprinted towards the window, diving headfirst through the glass pane. His coat billowed out behind him as he dropped to the ground and took off in a sprint. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Red knew what was good for her, they would be meeting again very soon.
“You okay, Will?” Buffy asked, picking up Willow’s arm and draping it across her shoulder.
“Never been better,” Willow answered, collapsing against her friend. She couldn’t help but feel the tingle on her lips where Spike had kissed her. It was nothing like the kisses she got from Oz, and she had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be forgetting that kiss anytime soon.
Part 2
