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Kantayra
Author's Notes: OK, the inspiration for this story came from a challenge I read a long time ago somewhere on the Internet. I have long since forgotten where, or I would gladly credit whoever gave it. Anyway, I don't exactly remember the details of the challenge, but the one thing that stuck in my mind was: 2nd season Spike meets 6th season Spike and they both get it on with Buffy at the same time. Can you see why this stuck in my dirty little mind? Ah, the wonderful possibilities... Two Spikes at once... *Drool* Huh? What? OK, I'm better now. So, whoever issued this challenge, thanks much and you rock! And for you kiddies that haven't figured it out yet, this is major NC-17. So scram unless you're ready for two naked Spikes... (Yes, I do know that will just cause everyone to continue reading. ~_^)
Summary: When the nerdy trio delves into time travel, Buffy is faced with two Spikes at once. Will she be able to resist? (No, duh! ~_^) Gratuitous B/S/S smut, S6
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do I look like Joss? Well...I suppose you can't see me, but just to reassure you: no, I don't. So, what conclusion can you draw? Why, that someone's cast a spell on me so that I no longer own the Buffy characters. We must find a counter spell immediately and restore the universe to its proper order! Translation from Deranged-FF-Writer to English: I own nothing and amn't getting paid a cent.
Past Spike watched Buffy pace up and down the training room curiously. Every time she spun to face him she would open her mouth to speak, then close it and start pacing again. Three or four repetitions of this pattern and he finally lost whatever it was in him that sometimes tried to imitate patience.
“Wha’s the problem, Slayer?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.
Buffy let out a long sigh. “I don’t even know where to begin.” She put one hand to her temple. “Do you still want to go back?” she finally asked.
“’Course.” He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag.
“And you want to go back still remembering everything that’s happened here?” she persisted.
His brow furrowed for a second at this difficulty before he shrugged. “’m not havin’ your Witch friends playin’ with my head.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Buffy gave him a scrutinizing stare.
“Oh?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Look at it this way: suppose Willow and Tara come up with some other way to block out your memories of this time, a serum or something non-magical, would you be willing to have your memories erased before you went back?”
He took several deep drags on his cigarette, obviously thinking deeply about her question. “I don’t particularly want to forget all this,” he finally said, gesturing to the room around them with his cigarette.
Buffy groaned. “We have a problem then,” she explained. “We have to send you back in time: you want to go back, and I think you should go back, and the universe could get seriously messed up if you don’t…”
“Not arguin’ with this part, pet,” past Spike interrupted her.
“Good,” Buffy said. “So let’s accept it as fact that you’re going back.”
“All right.” Spike seemed more than a little bit amused at her logical reasoning process and leaned back against the wall, a slight smirk on his lips.
“So now,” Buffy went on, “one of two things happens: you still have all your memories or you don’t.”
“I—”
“I know what you think,” she cut him off. “We’re just looking at this from an abstract point of view.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“For now, let’s assume you go back the way you are now, with all your memories intact. Where do you go back to? Are you out on a hunt or in the warehouse with Dru or—?”
“Last one. Warehouse with Dru,” he provided.
“OK,” Buffy went on, “so you’re suddenly transported back into the warehouse with Drusilla. You’re going to see her again and…what? Lie? Pretend none of this happened?”
“Well…” His brow furrowed.
“Do you really think she’ll buy that?” Buffy demanded. “She is psychic, after all. And – to tell the truth – you’re really not that great of a liar.” She stopped him with a gesture before he could speak. “Or maybe you do tell her the truth. You love her after all.”
“Damn right, I do,” he grumbled under his breath.
“So, either you’re doing a really poor job at keeping this secret or Drusilla finds out about it. What happens then?” she demanded.
“Nothin’ good,” Spike agreed.
“Right. You fight or you have a falling out or something weird happens that never happened in this universe. You change things,” she concluded.
“What do I care?” he shrugged.
“Well, Drusilla’s probably going to break up with you on the spot,” Buffy said. “Take my word on it: when it comes to matters involving you and me, she’s even less level-headed than usual – and that’s saying something. So now things are all wrong. If you’re not there, Drusilla’s probably never going to get her cure. Your life will be permanently changed.”
“I could still cure her,” Spike insisted, “find a way to work things out between us…”
“Kill me if you have to?” Buffy demanded.
He did some high-quality hemming and hawing.
“Suppose you do,” Buffy shrugged. “Suppose I’m dead, and Drusilla’s saved, and she forgives you, and the two of you run off happily ever after. Sound good?”
“Better’n anything ‘ve heard in a long time…”
“But it’s not,” Buffy insisted. “Not really. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.”
“Who cares ‘bout what’s s’posed to happen?” he countered.
“You should, for one,” she pointed out. “In the next four years you will be pivotally involved in averting two Apocalypses. If you change, what’s to say that the world won’t end?”
He had a sullen scowl on his face now.
“Is this world that bad?” Buffy pressed gently.
He sighed. “It has it’s…benefits…” A rakish leer accompanied the last word, and he looked her up and down hungrily.
“ ‘Benefits’ worthwhile enough to save it?” Buffy took a step closer to him.
“Maybe,” he conceded, his nostrils flaring to pick up the lingering scent of her arousal.
“Then you really don’t want to do anything to mess up this timeline,” she concluded.
A weary sigh. “S’pose I don’t?” he finally admitted.
“Well, then we’re going to have to do whatever we can to prevent this incident from having any impact,” she informed him.
“Couldn’t you jus’ tell what ‘m going to do?” he asked.
Buffy considered this thoughtfully. “Maybe…” she finally said slowly. “The Spike in this time could try to give you a run-through of everything important he’s done in the past few years. That might be enough to prevent things from being altered too much… But we really don’t know. It could turn out that some person he killed in a drunken stupor two years ago would have become the next Hitler and destroyed the planet in a nuclear holocaust.”
“Or he could have not killed your future Hitler because o’ the events that happened in this timeline, an’ if I go back different I might change things by random luck,” he retorted.
“You’re right,” she agreed. “We don’t know what the consequences of our actions will be for certain, no matter what we do. But I can pretty much guarantee you that the world will be OK for at least four years if things happen the way they did.”
“So ‘ll do what he tells me,” past Spike insisted. “I’ll keep things ‘s close to the same as I can.”
“You’ll try,” Buffy assured him. “But it will be hard…impossible, really. I won’t lie. Some really bad things are going to happen to you over the next few years. Do you really think you could willingly and knowingly let the Initiative capture you and run experiments on you?”
He let out a deep sigh. “No,” he finally agreed.
“No Initiative means no chip, which means no second alliance, which means no friendship, no fighting Glory, no…sex,” she blushed a bit. “Everything’s already different.”
“So ‘ll suck it up an’ do it then,” he clung desperately to his plan. “I can keep things the same…”
“The same,” Buffy said seriously. “I hate to break it to you, but the Spike in this time doesn’t remember this ever happening. Just remembering these events is not the same.”
“You’re asking to slice out a section of my life…er, unlife!” he protested. “You want to sacrifice me to fix your precious world. Well, ‘m not lettin’ you steal a part of me!”
“I know what I’m asking,” Buffy smiled apologetically, “but we wouldn’t have to destroy everything that’s happened here, wipe it out completely. We’d just be…borrowing a part of you for a few years. Eventually you could get it all back, if you wanted to.”
“What do you mean?” he looked at her curiously.
“I’m willing to bet that Will and Tara will be able to find a way to return all these memories to my Spike once this is all over,” she said confidently. “You could get your memories back then.”
He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in a way that was strangely reminiscent of Giles.
“Think about what he would want,” Buffy advised him. “What makes him happy will eventually make you happy…”
“He’d be willing to this, wouldn’t he?” past Spike finally decided.
Buffy nodded. “You can ask him yourself if you want, but I know that he would.”
“So nice to know…” he said sarcastically.
“Hey, there,” Buffy stepped right up to him and toyed with the lapels of his leather duster. “This is hard, I know. You’re going to go through a lot of pain if you make this choice. And I can’t really promise that everything will turn out all right even if you do, but…”
“But?” His hand reached up, seemingly of its own volition, and brushed aside a golden lock of her hair.
“But I can try to make him happy…I can try to make you happy…” she finally concluded, her face bright red now.
“Buffy?”
Her name still sounded strange coming from his lips.
“Hmm?” She tilted her head to look up at him.
“How do you really feel about me?” he demanded. “About him?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Or, I do, but I’m not ready to discuss it yet…even with you or him. But…he makes me happy. And I think I’m finally ready to give it my best shot.”
“You’re an amazing woman, you know that, luv?” He cupped her chin with his palm. “Strong, intelligent, brave, beautiful… It’s no wonder that he loves you.”
She leaned in a bit closer to him, sliding her arms around his waist. “You’re all those things, too,” she whispered, “if you’re willing to let yourself be…”
The kiss was softer than any she’d shared with the past vampire before. In that instant, when their tongues made tender love to each other, she was so sure that this was really her Spike and not the other.
He pulled away all too soon, leaving her breathless and panting heavily against his chest.
“You really think I should do it?” he asked, his words tickling her hair.
“I do,” she agreed. “The world needs you to, and I need you to, and maybe you don’t realize it yet but you need you to, too…and, woah, did that turn into one hell of a tongue twister! Try saying that five times fast.”
“You need you to, too; you need tyou tyou tyou… OK, I give up,” he joked lightly.
“We all need you to make this sacrifice, Spike,” she added seriously. “Only you can do this.”
“What makes you think I’m such a hero, Slayer?” he asked curiously.
“I just know,” she replied softly before their lips met again…
* * *
“I still think we should just stake them both and be done with it,” Xander sulked, scowling at Spike when he stole a handful of Doritos out of his bag.
“Brilliant grasp o’ the issues here, Harris,” Spike gave him a dirty look.
“I still say it’s a thrall,” Xander crossed his arms in front of himself.
“And I still say you’re jus’ a jealous wanker,” Spike mirrored his position.
“Evil Undead.”
“Whelp.”
“Captain Peroxide.”
“Oh, Useless One.”
“Crazy Stalker Guy.”
“Fairy Ponce.”
“I am not gay!” Xander finally exclaimed. “Where do you keep getting this bizarre idea that I’m gay?”
“Who was tying who up next to the bed again, mate?” Spike flashed him a suggestive smirk.
“I’m not the one who paints his nails,” Xander insisted.
“Hey!” Willow objected. “Oz painted his nails, too. And what’s with all the gay-bashing all of a sudden, anyway?"”
“Not gay-bashing!” Xander quickly began backtracking like crazy. “Just…asserting my heterosexual manliness.”
“What little of it there is,” Spike grumbled just loudly enough for Xander to hear.
“Excuse me—!” Xander began.
“This is boring,” Anya cut him off before he could continue. “I mean, I enjoy sexy displays of testosterone as much as the next girl, but this is just dull. Shouldn’t you two be wrestling or something?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, in mud! And while naked, too! If they were naked, then we could compare penis sizes and determine for ourselves,” she informed Tara conspiratorially.
The shy Witch turned beet red and looked to Willow for help.
“Uh…Anya…” Willow desperately tried to end the current conversation.
“Sorry, I forgot,” Anya laughed and patted Tara’s shoulder apologetically. “You’re lesbians. You don’t care about penis size. Do you want to discuss breast size?”
“Huh?” Both Xander and Spike suddenly snapped to attention at the mention of the two words every male fantasizes about hearing women discuss: ‘breast size’.
Willow and Tara were both slowly inching away from Anya now in horror. Dawn’s jaw had practically dropped to the floor.
“Nibblet, why don’t you go see if there’s any blood in the fridge downstairs?” Spike suggested none-too-subtly.
Dawn took the opportunity to flee from the room.
“You don’t want to discuss breast size?” Anya asked, forlorn.
“Very much…” Xander managed to gasp out.
“Will you be doing any A-B comparisons?” Spike asked hopefully.
“Men!” Willow and Tara rolled their eyes in perfect unison and then began giggling.
Anya smiled brightly at the fact that she’d finally managed to start a conversation that so many people wanted to participate in.
“So, Spike,” she asked curiously, “do think that pert breasts are vital for a happy orgasm?”
He gave her a conspiratorial smile and signaled for her to come closer. She leaned forward curiously, and her eyes widened at what he whispered in her ear.
“What?!” Buffy had managed to enter the room just in time to hear that line out of context…not that it would have been much better in context. “Spike, what are you telling Anya?” she demanded.
The two of them leapt apart, trying desperately to hide that any conversation had occurred.
“Nothing!” he insisted, holding his hands up in front of himself defensively.
“Not since you interrupted…” Anya mumbled under her breath.
“And where do you get off talking dirty to my fiancée?!” Xander demanded of Spike, enraged.
“It was just a helpful suggestion,” Anya informed him.
“Yeah, right.” Xander gave Spike the Evil Eye Of Doom.
“Here.”
Much to Buffy’s horror, Anya repeated whatever Spike had said into Xander’s ear. A look of horror passed over Xander’s features at the source of the thought…and then in eager anticipation of how it could be adapted to their own situation…
“What?” Buffy demanded, glaring back and forth between the now-cuddling Xander and Anya, a satisfied-looking Spike, and Willow and Tara trying to vanish into the woodwork. She decided to put the brunt of her anger where it belonged: on Spike. “You were not just discussing the details of our sex life in front of my friends!” she exclaimed, outraged.
“’Course not!” Spike protested.
“Then what did you tell Anya?” Buffy demanded.
“Can’t tell you, luv,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?” Buffy’s tone turned petulant. “You told her.”
“That was ‘Demon Talk’, pet,” he informed her. “Every bit as sacred as ‘Girl Talk’. Can’t reveal a thing…”
He was looking entirely too smug. Buffy yanked him up to his feet by the collar. If anything, that made him look more smug.
“Y-You arrogant, self-absorbed, stubborn pig!” she exclaimed.
“Can’t tell you now,” he purred in a sultry voice, “but I could always show you later…” He gave her a little tongue waggle.
“You wish!” Buffy snorted in disgust, gripping his lapels tighter and pulling him up so that his face was mere inches from hers.
“Xander, can we go have sex now?” Anya yanked at Xander’s sleeve, trying to lead him to the now-empty training room.
“Not now,” Xander waved her off, watching the pair in front of him intently. “They’re fighting!” He said this last part with complete and utter glee.
“Sorry if I got your hopes up, Xander,” Buffy released Spike sheepishly, “but this is a ‘we’re arguing but we’re really flirting’ fight, not a ‘we’re about to break up’ fight.”
Xander’s shoulders slumped. And then he turned to Anya. “All right, let’s go then…” he agreed, “er…and…do inventory,” he desperately tried to cover.
Everyone did their best not to notice when Xander and Anya practically ran into the back room.
“Is it safe to come out now?” a nervous voice asked from the basement.
Tara gave Spike and Buffy a critical eye. They were both sitting innocently beside each other on the couch. It looked like the coast was clear.
“It’s all right now,” the brunette Wiccan called to Dawn.
Dawn opened to door to the stairs a few seconds later with two warmed mugs of blood in her hands. She put one on the table in front of Spike and offered the other to past Spike.
“I thought you might want one, too,” she gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Er…thanks.” He took the mug from her, ducking his head with embarrassment.
“You can lay off, Dawnie,” Buffy informed her. “He’s already agreed to undergo the spell.”
“R-Really?” Tara looked over at him in surprise.
“Sure,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Jus’ watch that you don’t mess anythin’ up.”
“I’ll be careful,” Tara assured him.
“Well then,” Buffy said, ignoring the demanding looks her Spike was flashing at her, “it looks like it’s spell time…”
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