Déjà Vu, by Salix Ardens
Rating: PG-13 for violence and the language that accompanies it.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: A series (with very short chapters) about my favorite subject: Spike's death. A screwy temporal fold causes Spike to die repeatedly. Hee. Don't read if you like him to be alive. Right now I'm really glad I don't accept anonymous reviews. Set soon after "Intervention".
Author's Notes: AGH! A story that isn't all about Willow and Tara! Horribles!
*****
Spike was trying magic. He wanted his Buffybot back. The witch had destroyed it as far as he knew, and he needed a little relief from his bot. No, his Buffy. She was Buffy. Just a few more plastic parts and microchips, right? Still Buffy. Still Buffy. He wanted her back. Cause the sex was great. *Amazing what you can do with motors and compressors and what all,* he thought. *Felt like the real thing.*
He grinned and lit the last of the candles and put the chicken feet in their proper spot. He took out a plate with a picture of the Buffybot on it and set it in front of him. Spike frowned at the spot where he had cut himself out. *Only one leg left showing, but that's what you get when you take naughty pictures and cut out the guy.*
Finally ready to finish the spell, he settled himself on his haunches and concentrated. *I should have a secondary,* he thought. "Oh well," he sighed out loud. He began the incantation. "Eryishon, k'shaala, me'uhn. Du'precht, do te'henlo, nu Eryishon." He picked up the bottle of sand and held it over the plate. "The child to the mother, the river to the sea. Eryishon, hear my prayer." Spike prepared to pour the sand over the plate, but his door slammed open and he dropped the bottle.
"Bloody hell!" In his anger, Spike picked up a chair and shattered it against the wall. Shards flew everywhere and some cut his face. *Lucky I missed the heart.* He climbed up from the lower level and glared at Willow and Tara, who had entered his crypt and stood holding hands. "What the hell are you two doing here?"
"Um, w-we came to see how you're doing. We heard you were hurt pretty bad," said Tara softly.
"Yeah, and since you helped us and all, we could do some witchy mojo and help ya get better!" Willow chimed in.
"Vampire healing. Don't need your help." He turned and waited for them to leave. "Are you finished here, or do I need to say it in a way you can understand? Get out!"
"Sorry," Tara whispered. "Willow, we should g-go." She pulled on the redhead's arm and they left, Willow shooting Spike a glare of reproach. She didn't like people yelling at her Tara. He glared back and started to walk toward the ladder to try and fix the spell.
Seething with anger, Spike didn't notice the way his rug had flipped up. He tripped over the end and went plummeting into the lower level. He landed hard on his side. "Bloody-" he began as he turned over. Right onto a leg of the chair that he had broken moments before. "- hell..." he finished as the wood entered his heart and he turned to dust.
Just then, the sand from the broken bottle began to glow. It swirled around and filled the room. There was a flash of light and then everything was as it had been ten minutes before. Spike sat in front of the plate, but when he realized where he was, he jumped up, set down the bottle, and looked around in amazement.
"I could've sworn I was dead!"
TBC!
Rating: PG-13 for violence and the language that accompanies it.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: A series (with very short chapters) about my favorite subject: Spike's death. A screwy temporal fold causes Spike to die repeatedly. Hee. Don't read if you like him to be alive. Right now I'm really glad I don't accept anonymous reviews. Set soon after "Intervention".
Author's Notes: AGH! A story that isn't all about Willow and Tara! Horribles!
*****
Spike was trying magic. He wanted his Buffybot back. The witch had destroyed it as far as he knew, and he needed a little relief from his bot. No, his Buffy. She was Buffy. Just a few more plastic parts and microchips, right? Still Buffy. Still Buffy. He wanted her back. Cause the sex was great. *Amazing what you can do with motors and compressors and what all,* he thought. *Felt like the real thing.*
He grinned and lit the last of the candles and put the chicken feet in their proper spot. He took out a plate with a picture of the Buffybot on it and set it in front of him. Spike frowned at the spot where he had cut himself out. *Only one leg left showing, but that's what you get when you take naughty pictures and cut out the guy.*
Finally ready to finish the spell, he settled himself on his haunches and concentrated. *I should have a secondary,* he thought. "Oh well," he sighed out loud. He began the incantation. "Eryishon, k'shaala, me'uhn. Du'precht, do te'henlo, nu Eryishon." He picked up the bottle of sand and held it over the plate. "The child to the mother, the river to the sea. Eryishon, hear my prayer." Spike prepared to pour the sand over the plate, but his door slammed open and he dropped the bottle.
"Bloody hell!" In his anger, Spike picked up a chair and shattered it against the wall. Shards flew everywhere and some cut his face. *Lucky I missed the heart.* He climbed up from the lower level and glared at Willow and Tara, who had entered his crypt and stood holding hands. "What the hell are you two doing here?"
"Um, w-we came to see how you're doing. We heard you were hurt pretty bad," said Tara softly.
"Yeah, and since you helped us and all, we could do some witchy mojo and help ya get better!" Willow chimed in.
"Vampire healing. Don't need your help." He turned and waited for them to leave. "Are you finished here, or do I need to say it in a way you can understand? Get out!"
"Sorry," Tara whispered. "Willow, we should g-go." She pulled on the redhead's arm and they left, Willow shooting Spike a glare of reproach. She didn't like people yelling at her Tara. He glared back and started to walk toward the ladder to try and fix the spell.
Seething with anger, Spike didn't notice the way his rug had flipped up. He tripped over the end and went plummeting into the lower level. He landed hard on his side. "Bloody-" he began as he turned over. Right onto a leg of the chair that he had broken moments before. "- hell..." he finished as the wood entered his heart and he turned to dust.
Just then, the sand from the broken bottle began to glow. It swirled around and filled the room. There was a flash of light and then everything was as it had been ten minutes before. Spike sat in front of the plate, but when he realized where he was, he jumped up, set down the bottle, and looked around in amazement.
"I could've sworn I was dead!"
TBC!