Take this Job and Shove It
by Tropicwhale
disclaimer: Not mine
Warnings: Lots of foul language.
Author Notes:
Chapter Nineteen
Favors
Recap: It is definitely hard to breath still but we kinda won so yay? Spike is all Game Face and Fake!Buffy has a small army at her back and there is a really busty lady holding up the Grimmoire. I have no idea of what is going on. And go!
"Hey! So I was knocked out? Can someone catch me up?"
"Ancient Italian goddess of sex is holding the Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fey for a favor." Spike stated blankly. "Don't know about you, but sexy goddess wanting something from me puts my teeth on edge." The woman, Turan? smiled.
"Come now. It's not a hard favor. Perfectly in line with your destiny."
"Why. I need a reason." Spike was looking militant and Sandra was staring at him and not at the lady...or the knocked out Twilight.
"This book is also not welcomed in Roma." Her eyes hardened. "It is not for you to know why." Sandra sighed a Buffy sigh.
"Let sleeping wolves lie. That's what Conny always says." Turan nods. "I am not bound by the same rules as the pair of you."
"You know nothing." Turan states.
"I know some. And Spike isn't going to help if he doesn't get some information. Neither is Xander. They are my friends, your ladyship. Let me deal with this." Turan nods.
"Fine. Away from the mortals." And she leads us away from the beefy team of tactical gear-wearing soldier types...who then started to clean up the mess, convenient. Turan led us deeper into the catacombs not back to the surface. We turned a corner a moment behind her and suddenly...we're in a high rise penthouse. I pause right on the threshold and look back into the catacombs. What just happened?
"What just happened?" I ask. Turan smiled over her shoulder at me and swayed over to a bar. I definitely watched her ass as she did it. She has nice curves!
"Oi, stop drooling." Spike grouses.
"Sorry, it's...I got distracted." I look at him. Well shit. He's grumpy. I fucked up. Again. "Are you ok?"
"Of course he isn't, he got shot." 'Buffy' stated. Spike shrugged.
"Less ok with my boyfriend drooling over someone else right in front of me."
"You were doing it too!"
"Was not!"
"I saw you eyeing up her-" I gesture 'boobs' with my own chest. That got me a sour look from both blonds.
"They're hard to miss." Spike growls. "and I looked away...cuz I'm spoken for."
"Are they always this argumentative with each other?" Turan asked 'Buffy' as she returned with a tray of drinks
"Yes." Turan hummed as she passed out beverages.
"The sex must be fantastic." Spike and I looked at each other. Well, she wasn't wrong. The sex was fantastic. "And, to the both of you, I am someone to be adored...I chose this body for a reason." She eyed us both, grinning. "And, I bet I could make both of you very, very satisfied." Uh….oh. Oh. uh. I look over at Spike. His head is lowered and he looks angry.
"Where'd the book go?" he says, "And you owe us a story." Turan handed him his drink and gestured to the couch without a word. Spike was really getting irritated. Me and Sandra go and sit on the couch and sip our fruity beverages. Spike stayed standing, off to the side, glaring so hard he might as well be growling. I look over at him. "What?" He snarls at me. I put down my drink and go to join him. I take his drink away, putting it on a side table, and wrap my arms around him.
"I am really glad I'm not dead right now." Spike glares at me. "I love you." My head drops to his shoulder. "And I am really tired. Let's just...can we just...please, for the moment? I just...want to go home to Paris."
"I am truly sorry but that's going to have to wait for you two for a little longer." Turan said, I turn my head to look at her. Spike's arm goes around my waist. Turan hums at us. "Your love" She says, closing her eyes. "What a complex taste." I frown.
"Taste?"
"My kind feeds off of specific things. The worship of our values. I am the goddess of sex, love, fertility, the harvest. My strength is undiminished, even in the time of the Christ-lovers, when I am called a lie of a god. Humankind will always worship me and my husband, whom the Romans called Mars, God of War. Others, greater than us, have fallen to the pride of the humans. After all, no one holds marriage and lightning as high and holy sacred acts of the Divine anymore. But they will always fuck and fight." She opens her eyes and looks at us. "The act of showing solidarity with your lover, the comfort you offer even when you know his anger is, in part, directed at you...it's wonderful on the tongue. Even with your doubts and old anger embittering it. And his anger, fading at the word of your home together, at your touch, that seed of distrust that is inedible to me...a complex flavor, like chocolate infused with black pepper and wine." She smiles, sitting on a chair that is suddenly more thronelike. "I ask you a favor for a favor. Safe passage in exchange for removing the book from Rome and to a place it will not cause any more harm. I will sweeten the deal, I will also grant you passage and add from this place back to Paris."
"I already told you. I want to know why I would accept that offer."
"Buffy?" Turan asked. "Could you tell your former lover why his kind is unwelcome in Rome?"
"Vampires, any sort of active undead. Like the ghoul...after a long enough time, start to weaken the seals."
"What seals?" I ask.
"There are seven seals, one on each hill of Rome. Turan and Conny, as well as a few others of their kind that are left alive...act as protectors to keep the seals closed."
"What is being sealed away?" I ask. "And does this have something to do with why we weren't allowed in certain parts of the city?"
"Yes." Turan stated. "I cannot tell you what is being sealed away, only that it must be. For the safety of the world. Conny...as Buffy calls him, inspired the Senate of Rome to expand their borders to keep us safe. The Roman Empire was part of our defense. But, as it turned from worshiping us, under monikers fused with the Greek gods...which was fine, honestly, to that boy from Israel….our powers waned. Every decade is a struggle now. Thank goodness you humans love to fight and fuck. Maris and I, when we realized what was happening...styled ourselves after demonic demi-gods. We went from working with our own kind to...using demons and humans to protect the seals. Conny takes point...mostly because, well, women are still considered second-class...no matter what people lie. More so in the demonic circles. But I am also the Immortal. And it pleases me to be under-utilized. After all, one of us has to remain as close to full strength as we can, in case the worst should happen. Does that explanation satisfy you, Spike." I look at my boyfriend. He nods. "Good, I need you to take the book to the Acolytes of the Phoenix. They have the ability to keep the book out of the hands of darkness. This book?" She holds it up. Where did it come from? "Is beyond dangerous. The spells in it are not just human, they are fae and demonic and angelic. Morgana had the power to change the face of reality itself."
"So why didn't she?" Spike asks in his "Master Vampire" voice.
"Her actual ambitions were small. She simply wanted to overthrow her half-brother...who was….he...Arthur was half fae but it presented strangely. The common thought was that, because his conception was by magically means, and the fact that he was raised with that magic-hating, and yet hypocritical, Uther and then by his foster father….Morgana...was also a little bit batty….it was such a strange situation." Turan shakes her head. She holds up the book again. "This book? Is dangerous. I would be indebted to you, vampire, if you took care of it. Free passage to and from the Temple, and a favor to be named later." Spike's eyes narrowed.
"Throw in medical care for me and my boy. Some of us are riddled with bullets."
"Done." Spike's eyebrow went up.
"Alright," he says, glancing over at fake Buffy "when do we leave."
Author After Notes: See, the writer giveth and the writer hints at other stories. Bit of a sociopath...but not really because I have high emotional intelligence. You just gotta edit those emotions.
Love from the Dorkside;
Tropic