Previously on "Buffy"……Spike's body……Repeatedly……In many different positions.
Seriously: Spike's dust, Xander's a moron, Willow's gay, Buffy's "wrecked" (hee hee), Dawn's annoying, Willow's gay, Tara's a sweetheart, Angel's a dork and they're all waiting for Clem at Spike's Shaggin' Shack. And did I mention Willow's gay?
************************************************************************
Angel shuffled around nervously for a moment, head down and shoulders slouched in a hollow imitation of the mildly-interesting-but-not-as-charismatic-as-Spike character he used to be. As the six super friends took in his goober-like appearance, each had their own unique and totally original reaction, which, since they were all selfish bastards who would never grow up, they all decided to voice at exactly the same time.
"A-Angel, s-so nice to s-see you," stammered Tara, who was so sweet and kind and good and gentle that she always had a nice word for everyone and it was enough to make you just want to hurl.
"Angel, what's with the baby?" Addict!Willow had lost a lot of her tact and just blurted things out.
"You look lumpy." Anya had never had any tact to begin with, but she also had a blind spot for her own puffy paramour.
"Way to bring the lurk, Lurch," grumped grumpy not-really-human Dawn, who was smugly pleased at her strained alliteration, as it might bring her a moment of attention.
"You're evil again!" Xander screamed, as his mind was stuck on repeat. Especially when it came to candy.
"Whaaaa, Whaaaaaa!" wailed Buffy, who buried her face in the coffee can and sniffed up a little Nabob!Spike, as she realized that even in dustiness, Spike was way more appealing than spending time with Brood Boy and his Amazing Hair (Playing twice weekly at the Copa. No cover before 9).
"Whoa. One at a time." Luckily, Angel had some of that super-hero like vampire hearing that you hear so much about, so he heard each of the Scoob's comments. "Tara, it's nice to see you too. Willow, it's a long story. Anya, I'm solid, not lumpy. There's a huge difference. Dawn, shouldn't you be in some other dimension by now? And Xander, I'm not evil. Except when singing."
"But you brought snacks!" Xander pointed at the shockingly inconsistent plot contrivance that pops up in this fic but hopefully will never, ever be seen again.
"He's not a snack. He's a prophecy!" Angel stared with ultimate paternal love at the plot hole. The type of pure loving joy and happiness that should have caused his "Happy Happy Joy Joy No Soul Clause" to kick in, because isn't parental love more pure and powerful than one night stand orgasm love? Apparently not. So, to recap, not evil, staring stupidly, everyone uncomfortable.
"Spike…loved…snacks!" Buffy wailed like a professional wailer at an international wailing competition. And she was winning. She hadn't noticed that her attempts at being close with Nabob!Spike by snorting him obsessively were resulting in a nosebleed.
Angel went to his former true love's side reluctantly, as it meant pulling his eyes away from the child that brought him the greatest happiness a vampire had ever known. And still with the not evil. He sat down beside the borderline emaciated warrior of the people and couldn't help but think of his partner in championship kai-rumption, Cordelia, and her really, really nice big rack. Unfortunately, this line of thought gave him a happy of an entirely different kind.
Careful not to invade Buffy's personal space with his, uh, rising music, Angel pried the coffee can from her hands and set Spike between the TV and the bar, where he knew he'd be happy.
"Buffy," Angel spoke soulfully, because he had a soul. "Buffy, I'm so sorry. But please, you can't let yourself get so worked up over Spike's demise. He was evil, after all. Or has everyone forgotten about that?"
Dawn, Willow, Anya, and Tara all gave the formerly evil but now just totally bulky waste of space a condescending look that again flooded the room with a whole mess of female friendly pheromones, while Xander nodded in agreement with the original Deadboy, as it seemed to be the only way to insert some testosterone in the room. Did vampires have hormones?
"Oh, Angel!" Buffy's fragile state had her reverting to the moon-eyed high school girl she had once been. But then she remembered what a crappy lover Angel had been and got over it, because even though he was dusty and clogging her nostrils, Spike still enflamed her passions more than any man or evil-undead-man ever would. Then she started to cry all over again when she realized that using Spike as substitute crack was the only way he was ever going to be in her again. If you know what I mean.
"He wasn't (choked sob) evil…he was (choked sob) trying so hard…and, god (big smile) was he ever hard."
"Yeah, I heard." Angel brooded broodily at the thought of Buffy with Spike.
Finally realizing that Angel being in Sunnydale was bad idea because of the whole network crossover thing, Buffy started to come to her senses.
"What do you mean? Who told you about me and Spike?"
Buffy looked at her coven of friends, who were slowly starting to look like Josie and the Pussycats. Willow, Anya, Tara, and Dawn suddenly found Spike's collection of mini-bar bottles to be utterly fascinating. Xander listened intently to Angel and Buffy, but had no idea what they were talking about.
"No one told me Buffy. I heard."
"Heard? Could you vague it up a little more for me?"
"Vampire. Supernatural senses. I. Heard. You." Buffy still wasn't getting it, and as long a Spike was dead, probably wasn't going to be getting it for awhile, so she set her hands on her hips and pouted. Angel sighed a mopey sigh and spelled it out for her. "You two were, uh, loud."
"We were – and you – heard?" Buffy blushed at the idea of their wild monkey sex being so thunderous that they could be heard a hundred miles away. She was actually kind of impressed. And just a smidge turned on. "That's just…wow."
"Uh, yeah. Can we not talk about this?"
"Not talk about what?" Xander asked as he played a losing game of Connect Four.
Ignoring Xander almost as well as most people ignored Dawn, Angel and Buffy glared at each other and both had the same thought at the same time: What did I ever see in you?
"Then why are you here?"
"Well, I hadn't heard the, uh, vocalizing in about a week, so I called Giles to see if you were alright, and he told me about the dusting and I made my way here."
"What, you can call England but you can't call here? You are a loser, Angel." Buffy was getting some of her spunk back as she truly appreciated for the first time how lucky she was to have broken up with Angel's possessive ass. Which was nowhere near as tight and lickable as Spike's.
"Buffy, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. This relationship was obviously dangerous and wrong and it's my job to help you get out of the shadow of it."
"You don't get it do you Angel. Spike had changed. Sure he was still amoral and snarky and annoying and shifty and dead, but I had him totally whipped!" Buffy was on the verge of tears again as she realized it would take her years to train another guy.
"Buffy, what are you saying? What exactly did Spike mean to you? Do you want Spike back?"
"Okay, that I understood." Xander was relieved to comprehend words again. "We're bringing back what now?"
"Angel, you don't understand. I don't want to have him back, I need to have him back. It was so good. So very, very, good. Mind-blowing, call the Guinness Book of World Records good. Or maybe Ripley's Believe It or Not, cause, you know, vampire. And that was just the coat. I haven't even begun to describe the sex."
"Buffy."
"I'd need charts and graphs, cause, WOW, it think we defied the laws of thermo and aero dynamics a few times."
"Buffy."
"Did you know Spike was tripled jointed? And he could do this little back-flip-and-slide thing that – "
"BUFFY!"
"What? You asked."
Angel moaned slightly at what his unlife had become. He used to have it really sweet. Duffle coat, no responsibilities, hot and cold running rats. He could go back to that. Except for the lack of hair gel. So he sucked it up and took one for the team, deciding that for once in his overly prophecy riddled existence he'd actually offer Buffy a choice instead of making all her decisions for her, because hey, that had always worked so well in the past.
"Look Buffy, if you really want Spike back, there's is a spell sort of ritual-thing-a-ma-bob that Wolfram and Hart used to bring back Darla. Maybe we could figure out a way – "
"Wait. Darla's back?" Buffy gave her non-stop Spike thoughts a pause.
"Uh, she was, but she sort of dusted herself. And about that…"
"Well thank god. I don't ever want to hear anything about that crazy bitch ever again. Seriously. People think Spike's nasty? That ho put the ho in ho-bag. She put the skank in skank-pot. Brought the slut to Slut City. And now she's gone again with nothing left to remember her by. Yay!"
"Right. Good to know." Angel covertly kicked the baby carrier behind the nearest sarcophagus.
"There's just one problem, Buffy. The spell would bring Spike back – " Angel paused for maximum angst, " – as a…"
"Clem!"
"The spell would bring Spike back as Clem?" Buffy gave her cute little wide-eyed incredulous look.
"Clem!" Dawn shrieked, thrilled to see a person who didn't know her too well and might actually spend some time with her.
"Hey." Clem waved one of his floppy, hooved, webbed, claw-like hand thingies at the gang. "Sorry I'm late. Had to pick up a few kittens. You know, cause I play kitten poker. And then eat the kittens."
The gang all nodded in understanding, while Angel, out of the loop and desperately needing some touch up hair gel, could only give Clem his patented 'What the fuck' look. Which basically just made him look like he was constipated. Frequently.
"Looks like everyone's here. Let's gather round and get this thing over with. I've got a hot date tonight."
"Really?" Dawn feigned interest in the wrinkly demon because she had annoyed the hell out of everyone she knew and desperately needed a friend. Any friend. Would you like to be her friend? "Who with?"
"Sophie."
"Sophie!" Everyone but Angel cried in surprise.
"Yeah, her skin may be tight, but that girl's a pistol, I tells ya. She's sassy. I like sassy almost as much as I like pus – (PG-13! PG-13!) – kitties." Tara and Willow nodded in agreement. In a totally gay way.
"Clem?" Buffy was back in tremulous lost-her-lover mode. "Is it true, did Spike leave a will?"
"Yeah, got everything right here. He asked that you all be here for this – Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, and Angel. Hey Angel."
"Do we know each other?"
"No. But Spike described the hair."
"Fair enough."
"So what do we do? Have a little ceremony?" Much to her surprise, someone actually listened to Dawn's question.
"A funeral for a vampire? How lame is that?" Xander's overused comeback was not exactly the response Dawn had hoped for.
"Will, maybe you could put something together?" Buffy was really taking the widow act seriously now.
"Like what?"
"You know, candles, music, scripture."
"Why would I know how to put together a religious ceremony? I stopped being Jewish in like, season 3. And hello, GAY NOW."
No one really knew what being gay had to with anything, but they sure liked that excuse better than 'I'm addicted! Addicted to magic! You know, like addicts! That magic that helped saved the world on numerous occasions? Evil. And addictive. And I was addicted to it. But I'm all-better now. Because I'm gay.'
"No worries, Spike didn't want anything special. So we'll just get right to the will."
"Wait. Don't you need to be a lawyer or something to do this?" Anya was nothing if not a slave to contracts and processing. Especially if money was involved.
"Naw. I'm a notary public. It'll do." The fact that an odd-looking, kitten-eating demon named Clem could make a living on the hellmouth as a notary public and not raise alarm bells among the populace didn't seem out of place to anyone. "Alright, take a seat, and I'll put the tape in."
"Tape?" Once more, the gang proved they spent way too much time together and spoke as one.
"Yeah, Spike's will? It's a video."
************************************************************************
TBC…
************************************************************************
Simpson's Quote of the Day: "Sweet merciful crap! My car!"