Strip Snap by Lilachigh
The story so far: On the evening after Buffy's 21st birthday party, Spike takes her for a midnight picnic to an island in the middle of a lake. There they are attacked by an acid spewing demon and Spike is injured. When he regains consciousness, Buffy realises it is William who now inhabits Spike's body. Delighting in his gentleness and innocence, she naughtily educates him in making love, then realises she has to get him back to Sunnydale so that Willow can find a way of getting Spike back.
Author's note: A nice long chapter for you this time. Do hope you are enjoying the story. Do let me know.
Chapter 7: "What About Me?"
"You have a very strange household, Miss Summers," William said politely as she hurried him up the stairs. "Do all those people live here with you?"
Buffy was heading for the bathroom. She was longing to feel hot soapy water on her skin. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone so long without a wash. "No, Xander and Anya have their own home. Willow lives here and my sister, Dawn - who should be home any moment. But I don't want you meeting her tonight."
She pushed open the bathroom door and almost thrust the vampire into the room. She didn't want to explain that she was hoping she could get Spike back before Dawn had to find out.
"Get in the shower. I'll find you something to wear." She left him staring around in amazement and fled into her bedroom. Buried in one of her closets was an old pair of trousers, covered with paint, that Riley had worn once when he'd helped her redecorate her bedroom. They would be far too big for Spike, but it was them or nothing!
"Oh God, I need water, hot, hot water," Buffy moaned and raced back to the bathroom door. William was standing where she'd left him, a bemused expression on his face. Buffy turned both bath taps on full, groaning in ecstasy as the steam rose up in fragrant clouds as she poured bubble bath into the water, filling the room with vanilla and rose essence.
She glanced round at William. "Look, there's the shower cubicle. Get in there and have a wash. I promise not to look at you if you don't look at me."
William stared at her through the steam. "What mustn't I look at, Miss Summers?"
"Me naked, of course."
"But I've already seen you unclothed."
"That was - different. Look, just get in the shower. No, take your trousers off first, idiot! Oh geez, do you know how to work a shower? No, of course you don't! You have the bath. I'll take the shower."
"But the water smells of - "
"I know, I'm sorry. It was meant for me. But it won't hurt for once. Just get in and soak. You're still covered in sticky yellow demon blood."
"Buffy, are you OK?" It was Willow outside the door.
"Yes, I'm fine, Will. Just showing Spike - William, how to work the shower. I"ll have mine when he's finished."
"OK. Xander and Anya have gone. I'll be downstairs if you want me."
Buffy pulled off her clothes. She didn't care what he thought. She wanted to wash now! She stood under the pounding water, feeling the dirt and demon blood and other unmentionable stickiness washing away. She peeked out once to the amazing sight of the vampire lying in rose scented bubbles, being male and playing with the taps with his toes.
"Oh god, Spike will never forgive me for this," she muttered, diving back into the cubicle and rubbing shampoo vigorously into her hair. "Please, please, don't let him ever remember I made him take a bubble bath!"
She was rinsing her hair for about the third time, eyes shut, almost asleep as the warm water gushed over her body, when a colder draught hit her. Her eyes shot open to find William standing in the open cubicle door looking at her, his eyes half open, glazed with desire. He'd tied a towel round his waist, but there were obvious signs underneath it that the sight of her was not unpleasant.
"William! What did you - hey, wait a second, I'll get dry and - "
Her words stopped as he stepped into the cubicle and, without speaking a word, began to kiss her. She felt the towel slide away and - oh god, was all that for her ? Yes!
He smelt of rose and vanilla and Spike. His mouth was cold but for a while, at least, his skin was warm from the hot bath. And that felt so odd. Buffy moaned as his hands found her and his kisses grew deeper, more insistent. She knew she should have stopped him, could easily stop him - she was the Slayer, she was strong enough to push him away any time she chose, end it now. Geez, Willow was only downstairs, Dawn would be home soon. They mustn't make a noise, but how she stop herself screaming when he did - Why was she acting like this? This wasn't Spike, it was William, but oh god, his hands were Spike's hands and what he was doing with his tongue -
She reached for the tap to turn off the shower, but there wasn't time. One of his hands slipped between her legs and she was glad the water was still thundering against the glass as she began to moan.
"Open your eyes, Miss Summers," William muttered and she forced herself to look up through the spray and mist and steam into his blue gaze, panting, gasping, as he slowly, but surely sent her insane. She was still staring at him through the steam and for a second, the sapphire eyes boring into hers were Spike's as she gave a final strangled scream and her climax hit, wave after wave of feeling coursing through her body.
She tightened her legs and arched her back, pushing her pelvis against his hand as he pumped wickedly with his finger, over and over again. She gave a little jump and wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her against the streaming tiles and buried himself inside her. His movements were as hard and sure as Spike's had been. This was no debutante to sex. Whatever lesson she had taught William, he had learnt it fast and well. There was no pausing, no hesitation, he held her effortlessly off the ground and made love to her until her body turned to jelly and every nerve ending shrieked for the bliss of release.
When she came back to reality, she found they were lying on top of her bed, tangled up in the quilt. She had a vague memory of William half carrying her out of the bathroom and her fumbling for the door handle and then locking it behind her. She rolled over and glanced down at the vampire. He seemed to be asleep, but the smirk on his mouth was one with which she was only too familiar. Whenever they made love, Spike got that expression on his face. Like a great cat that had just slurped a whole bowlful of cream.
Buffy poked him in the ribs as she hunted for clean clothes. "Get up, William," she hissed as she pulled on dark blue jeans and a pale pink top. "We've got to go downstairs. You need to sleep on the sofa."
"I'm very comfortable right here, Miss Summers," he muttered without opening his eyes, but reaching out instinctively to stroke her thigh.
Buffy batted his hand away. "Stop that right now!" she snapped. "Get dressed. You can't be in my room when my sister gets home."
William sighed heavily, opened one brilliant blue eye and smiled sleepily. "I am heartily looking forward to meeting her."
"You already know her - as Spike, that is. I don't know how she's going to take you being William. She's...she's fond of Spike."
William swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on the trousers Buffy had found for him. She grinned. They were far too large and the leather belt had to be pulled in to its smallest to stop them falling off his slim hips.
"Very odd garments you wear in these times," he said with a fastidious gesture that reminded her so much of Giles that her head swam. "Did these trousers belong to your father?"
"What? No way - they belonged to Riley. He was - "
"One of your lovers?"
"Hey, there's no need to make it sound as if I've had thousands of them. He was my boyfriend - OK - maybe more than that for a little while and - " She stopped dead. Why on earth was she telling him all this? "It's none of your business, William. We'll get you to Spike's crypt tomorrow and you can wear his - your - oh god, it's so confusing. Whoever you are tomorrow, there'll be clothes there that will fit you. Look, there's this T-shirt, too. Yes, I know it's torn. But it'll do. Now come on. Downstairs."
At the table, Willow was sitting on her own, working on her computer. She'd turned out all the lights except the desk lamp and it turned her hair to burnished copper. She smiled as they appeared, obviously fighting back the desire to laugh at William's appearance. "Hey there. Well, you certainly look a lot cleaner, Buffy. That must have been the longest shower on history. And you, too, William." She stared fascinated at the head of tiny blond curls that had appeared as his hair dried. Willow couldn't remember if she'd ever seen the vampire without his usual slicked back hair-style. "This must all seem very strange to you."
'"I have had a most cleansing bath," the vampire said happily. "Although I must apologise if I smell highly scented in a most feminine fashion. Miss Summers put copious amounts of a highly pungent substance in the water and even though I washed it off in the shower when we were - "
" - were rinsing out his wet jeans," Buffy broke in swiftly, knowing that at any moment he was going to relate to Willow exactly what they'd done in the shower. "Now, Will. Have you any ideas on how to get Spike back?"
Willow shook her head and turned back to her laptop. "No, but I'll probably find something at the Magic Box tomorrow. I know Giles had a couple of books there that covered reversion spells. And Buffy, remember that the Tazksha demon is very dangerous. You simply mustn't let it touch you. I'm surprised Spike didn't die from the acid."
"He almost did," Buffy said wearily, sitting down on the sofa, exhaustion beginning to bite her. She shuddered, remembering how ill the vampire had been, how she'd been convinced she was going to loose him and how that had sent her brain into overdrive. Why should he matter so much to her. Perhaps it was just 'the sex' as Xander would have said. Did that mean she was some sort of sex addict? She'd heard about people like that, who got hooked on it just as much as they did on drugs or drink.
But it isn't that, she thought desperately. When she'd thought she was going to loose him, the thought of sex had never entered her mind. All she could think of was Spike himself and how empty and pointless her life would be without him in it.
Buffy glanced across at him now. He was walking slowly round the room, picking up photographs of her mom, of Dawnie, of the Scoobies all together, smiling and laughing. Even in the ridiculous T-shirt and trousers, he had an elegance of movement that always surprised her. She could have watched him all night.
"OK, tomorrow we'll be all researchy and clever," she said. "William, I'm going to find you a throw - even though I suppose you don't really need one because you're cold already, but - well, anyway, I'll find you one. And then tomorrow we'll start some serious research into getting Spike back."
The vampire turned and for a second Buffy's heart flipped. His gaze was very direct; it could have been Spike looking at her. "And if you get this Spike back, where do I go, Miss Summers?"
There was a long silence. Willow was twisting a lock of hair round and round her finger, gazing at Buffy from under her lashes. She looked very nervous.
Buffy stood up. "Go? Well, you won't go anywhere, William. You'll just be - Spike again."
"But what if I don't want to be Spike?"
"What!"
He sat on the sofa, and clasped his hands in front of him. "I appreciate that you have all been extremely concerned, but you have never bothered to ask me what I want to do. I like it here. I like who I am. So if it's all the same to you, Miss Summers, Miss Willow, please don't bother with any magical spells or potions. I've decided to stay here as myself. I don't want to vanish, to disappear. I like life. I'm afraid this Spike character can't have my body any more. He can't come back."
And as Buffy stood looking down at him, she could see there was a stubbornness appearing on his gentle face that reminded her once again of the very man he was condemning to perpetual banishment.
Buffy was being held down, suffocated, ropes were tied tightly around her body and even though she was struggling and fighting, she couldn't get free, couldn't breathe, dying - And she woke up, realising that the sheet had got tangled round her body in a tight band, binding her arms to her sides. Struggling free, she sat up in bed, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. She glanced at her alarm clock. Three-thirty. Buffy groaned. She knew that once she was awake, she would find it hard to get back to sleep, no matter how tired she felt.
She got out of bed and padded across the dark room to stare out of the window. Sunnydale lay quiet, sleeping as if it was really an ordinary peaceful town, not one built on a Hellmouth . Nothing moved. She could go out and do a quick patrol, she supposed, but didn't really feel like it. No, there was only one solution to insomnia - ice-cream.
She padded down the stairs - then stopped dead. There were voices coming from the family-room. The flicker of light was obviously from the TV, but people were speaking. Buffy crept down silently and stared. Dawn and William were sitting side by side on the sofa, sharing a large tub of ice cream, watching TV. William had an expression of bemused incredulity on his face. His spoon kept going up to his mouth, then something on the screen made his eyes widen even more, and ice cream dripped down his T-shirt and Riley's paint-stained trousers.
"Dawn! William! What are you doing? It's three-thirty in the morning!"
"Oh, hi Buffy," Dawn said with a yawn. "I couldn't sleep, so I came down to get ice-cream and discovered that the lump on the sofa who I thought was Spike, was in fact William."
William hadn't even acknowledged Buffy's existence. The cartoon on the TV had him firmly in its grip.
"William!"
'"Look! It is a box with moving pictures in it, Miss Summers. Like a lantern show but with music and speaking. Look! That cat is chasing that small bird but never catches him. It is vastly amusing. And Miss Dawn tells me that it isn't magic. That it is an invention, as was the flying demon we saw when we were on the lake. Do you remember, you were lying on your back and I was - "
"Yes! Yes! I remember very well."
"And this is chocolate mint chip ice-cream! It has a most delectable taste. I wish it was available at home. It would be immensely popular." William waved the spoon vigorously and spattered chocolate chip in all directions.
"Dawn - I was going to tell you tomorrow. There was an accident and Spike - "
"That's OK, Buffy. William explained."
Buffy frowned. "How did you know he wasn't Spike?"
Dawn tossed back her long black hair and licked her spoon clean. "Oh come, on Buffy. Anyone with more than a single brain cell could tell he wasn't Spike as soon as he began to speak."
"Can I fetch you a bowl of this delicious delicacy, Miss Summers?" William got to his feet, smiling politely at Buffy, and she found herself wishing that he would stop being so damned nice about everything. Why didn't he rage and yell about what had happened to him? How could he just accept that he had been taken out of his time and place and transported across the world to another time and turned into a vampire as well?
"No - thank you." She watched as he headed for the kitchen, then turned to Dawn. "Go to bed. It's hideously late. You've got school in the morning."
"No, I haven't, stupid. It's Saturday. Remember, that funny old day that comes right after Friday, just before Sunday. It's called the weekend."
"Well, even so. You must go to bed. It's late and we all need to get some sleep. Especially William. He's got a difficult day ahead of him tomorrow. Willow's going to the Magic Box to find a way of getting Spike back. We're sure there must be a spell, or a charm, or something."
Dawn glanced over her shoulder but the vampire was still busy in the kitchen, adding little marshmallows and chocolate sauce to his ice cream. "What's going to happen to him, Buffy? I like William." She sounded upset.
Buffy reached out and ran her hand down the silky black hair. "I know. So do I. But Dawnie, you like Spike, too, don't you?"
Dawn flicked the remote at the TV and the cartoons vanished. "Yes, of course, I do. But this still is Spike, isn't it? He's chipped and everything. Still a vampire. But it's as if all those years and years of being evil have vanished. They haven't happened to this William, so he isn't the same person."
Buffy bit her lip. How could she explain to Dawn that whatever demon possessed William's body when Dru turned him, was still there, somewhere deep inside. William was as evil as Spike - it just didn't show at the moment.
"Where will William go if you and Willow manage to get Spike back?"
"I don't know. Look, Dawnie, I know it's hard to understand. I don't truly know what's happened. But I think we have to reverse the effect of the demon acid. Whether that's right or wrong, I'm not sure, but something tells me that's what we have to do."
Dawn jumped up and crossed her arms across her chest. "Why do we always have to do what you think is right? What if I think something else is right?"
Buffy frowned. "That's not fair. You're still too young to understand - "
Dawn spun round to face her. "I understand that you always think you know best, Buffy. But sometimes you don't. I mean, hey, what if you found a spell that could turn me back into pretty green energy. Would you use it? Make your life what it was before I arrived?"
"Dawnie, you're my sister and I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I would never do anything - anything! - to hurt you."
"You haven't answered my question, though, have you. You think Spike should be here and not William. Why is it your choice to make?" And she turned and raced up the stairs and Buffy heard her bedroom door slam shut.
"Miss Dawn has retired again for the night?" It was William, standing in the doorway, thumbs hooked in the belt of Riley's trousers, staring down at Buffy as she sat on the sofa.
"Yes. And so must we." Buffy urged her weary legs to start moving, but she was comfortable relaxing on the squashy cushions and it seemed too much effort to stand up. She could only hope that the vampire hadn't overheard their conversation.
William crossed the room and sat next to her, gazing sadly at the blank face of the TV for a second, then turning his attention back to Buffy. 'You look tired, Miss Summers," he said.
Buffy gave a little laugh. "Well, considering what we've done over the past couple of days, I'm surprised I'm not unconscious."
William slid his arm round her shoulders and pulled her close to him. For a second Buffy resisted, then decided she couldn't be bothered to fight him. Her head was so comfortable against his shoulder and his hand was gently massaging her neck, easing away the tension.
"Your sister is a lovely child," he said quietly.
"Yes, although she would die if she heard you call her a child. She's a teenager, although I don't suppose you had that expression in 1880!"
"She told me she was fifteen and still at school. I found that surprising. She does not appear to me to be a blue stocking."
Buffy frowned, then a vague memory of Giles calling Willow that once, came to her mind. "Oh no, she's not just interested in learning. She likes all sorts of things." She wondered what he would say if she tried to explain about mystical energy and Keys and memory alterations. She decided to stick to TV and chocolate ice-cream.
"I think she likes me," William said softly. "But I can tell she is fond of Spike, too. It is very odd. What sort of man is he, this Spike?"
Buffy shut her eyes. How could she answer that? Had she ever stopped before to ask herself that question. She just accepted him, longed for him, pulled him towards her, pushed him away. She needed him, hated him, loved him - no - she wanted him, that was different.
"Brave, a fighter, loyal, stubborn, irritating. He could be your best friend and your worst enemy - usually both at the same time!" She found the words slipping off her tongue easily enough. She opened her eyes and turned her head. William was closer than she'd imagined. His lips were only centimetres from hers.
"And you have feelings for Spike. That is plain," William muttered and bending his head just a fraction, kissed her.
Buffy felt the room swim around her. It was such a soft, tender kiss - no passion, no lust, but long and sweet, his mouth chill against the heat of hers, his tongue an icy dart that seduced her own to dance with it.
"He - you - Spike is - convenient," Buffy murmured as they broke apart.
'But you want him back," William said, running his hands slowly up under her vest top and circling her breasts in slow sweeps.
"I - oh God - I don't know."
"Why, Miss Summers? What can he give you that I can't? Does he make love to you better than I do? Does he make you shiver and quake more than me when he touches you - there - and - there."
A choked whine broke from Buffy's mouth as one of his hands slid down under her pyjama shorts. "Oh God, William. Don't stop. Do that again. Please!"
"Tell me," he hissed suddenly in her ear. "Tell me you prefer me to him!"
"I can't," she panted. "You're the same person. Oh God. I want you! Now!"
Together they tumbled off the sofa onto the floor. Buffy heard her shorts rip as vampire teeth tore them off her. Then he was inside her, thrusting, pulsating, driving her with him, onwards, deeper and deeper, until the red mist began to creep across her vision. But just as her climax hit, she opened her eyes and gazed down into his face. And as the first overwhelming wave sent shocks piercing through her body, she realised she was looking not at William, but at Spike. He was back! The man she loved - even as she thought those words she banished them from her mind - Spike was back!
As she returned to reality, she found the side of her face pressed against the carpet, Spike's weight crushing her. But it felt so good. She was sorry about William. He'd been fun, but this was Spike, this was -
"That was very odd, Miss Summers. I felt - well, almost disembodied for a while."
Buffy sat up and stared in dismay at the vampire whose head was pillowed on her thigh. There was no mistaking the soft blue gaze. "Spike - you were Spike again!" she whispered.
William frowned. He looked puzzled, but she realised that he hadn't denied what she'd just said. "At that last - er - during my - er - "
"Climax!" Buffy snapped.
"Thank you, I'm afraid my vocabulary for erotica is not as extensive as it perhaps should be - during my final climax, I had the distinct impression that I was two people. Very strange indeed."
Wearily, Buffy scrambled to her feet. She knew he was right. Spike had been there, just for a few seconds. Just as she now knew he had been when they made love - no, she wouldn't say that - when they had sex in the bathroom, earlier that evening. Now William was back, looking at her with that tender expression that tore her heart in two and danced on the pieces. She didn't want to get attached to this vampire; it was the other one she loved. There was that word again! She turned without another word and limped upstairs, hoping that any noise they'd made hadn't been heard by the rest of the household.
She needed to lie down quietly and try and get her thoughts in some sort of order. The love word kept flashing into her brain. Did she love him? It was such a huge emotion for such a little word to describe.
She'd loved Angel. Surely he had been and still was the love of her life. Not Spike. He'd been her enemy until he got chipped and even then -
Buffy threw herself across her bed and pillowed her head on her arms. She knew what usually happened when she tried to think about her feelings. She mentally ran away and hid. She brushed them all under the carpet and did a sort or Scarlett O'Hara act. Oh I'll think about them tomorrow - tomorrow is another day. She would do anything to avoid looking closely at how she felt about people. It was as if pretending that emotions didn't exist, would somehow make hers go away. But it never happened, of course.
The patchwork quilt of her bedcover danced in front of her eyes. She ran her fingers lovingly over the shapes. Her Mom had made this. Buffy could remember her sitting with it spread over her knees in the evenings, sewing, exclaiming when the needle pricked her finger, laughing when some of the squares looked more like oblongs or triangles.
All the patches were from Buffy's old clothes. Here was a piece of black velvet - that reminded her of Angel: a washed out, sad looking lemon with nasty orange flowers - Parker: a red, white and blue striped square - Riley. All gone. And holding them apart and yet linking them together, small bright blue diamonds, as blue as a certain vampire's eyes.
She smiled suddenly. Her mother had liked Spike. For the first time Buffy lay there, fists tightly clenched, and faced up to the truth. Yes, she'd loved Angel when she was what - sixteen, seventeen. Lots of people fell in love at that age and it was always glorious, dreadful, heartbreakingly romantic. Plus a vampire, so, hey, added bite. But now, she had to admit that love had gone. All that was left were the faded colours of what had been a rainbow of excitement. Some good memories, some terrible ones. And, at the end of the day, he'd left her.
Oh, he'd been full of very good reasons why he had to go, but none of them had rung true to her. If he'd loved her, truly loved her, he would have stayed, tried to find a way of making it work, delved into magics, dimensions, anything to find a way. Oh Angel had loved her, she was certain of that. But he'd loved the despair of forbidden love even more.
But Spike. She had fought against it, declared it impossible, ignored and rubbished her feelings. But now there was no denying it. When she wasn't with him, she didn't have the usual heartache that you felt when a boyfriend wasn't around, no, she had a griping stomach ache, an emptiness that made her feel hollow and lonely and alone. And when he was there - she found herself smiling. Heart, body and mind. All three were his. And as she admitted it, she felt an enormous peace flood through her. She had broken through a wall of denial that had caused her so much pain; now she was on the other side and the feeling of relief was marvellous.
Buffy sat up, rolled off the bed, smoothed the quilt straight and crossed to the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the eastern sky with pale apricot and lavender. Another beautiful day. But where did she go from here? Spike was trapped inside William's body, that much seemed obvious. But how did she get him out? And what would happen to William if she did discover a way of doing so?
By eleven o'clock, she was no further forward in knowing what to do. Willow, Xander, Anya and Dawn were seated round the table in the Magic Box , piles of research books in front of them, trawling for anything that might help them reverse what the Tazkasha acid had caused.
William was supposed to be helping, but Buffy noticed he was reading very slowly, peering over the top of his volume at her, his eyes sparkling with pure devilment.
Their walk through the underground passages from Buffy's basement to the shop had been uneventful - if you didn't count the number of times William had wrapped his arms round her in the dark and forced her to stop so he could kiss her.
"We'll be late," she muttered at last, giving in without a struggle.
"Oh Miss Summers, I'm sure they'll wait for us," he murmured at last. "Whatever magic your friend Willow is going to do, she can't start without me, now can she. And if I am going to disappear, then surely it's only fair you let me do this - "
Buffy could smell her own arousal, heard the groans coming from her throat as she threw her head back against the rock wall of the dark passageway. How did he know how much she loved him doing that. Oh God, her legs were turning to jelly again. She clung to him. "Please - please - " she moaned feverishly, knowing she was out of control, but aware that she needed this time of release, that her whole life had been spent making decisions, being strong, being the one who took charge. Here in this dark tunnel, with this man, she could be a willing victim, the one who begged, the one who -
"Perhaps we shouldn't linger, perhaps we should go to this shop you mentioned straight away, Miss Summers," he whispered in her ear, listening to her panting, rejoicing in her writhing in his arms.
"Nooo! Don't you dare, William. I'll kill you, I'll, oh please, please, just - "
"Say it! Tell me what you want"
"Make love to me. "
She felt the smile on his mouth, then everything turned red and black and she was screaming her release silently into the dark of the tunnel.
Buffy looked up from the volume she was studying to find William grinning at her again. She scowled at him, stood up and walked across to a far shelf to return the book. He followed her, leaning across to reach down a heavy volume from the top shelf.
"Stop making faces at me!" she hissed.
"Why Miss Summers, are you ashamed of our actions?" William said mockingly. "What is there of which to be ashamed? I thought you and this - Spike - were lovers. As you and I are."
"Well, yes, we are," Buffy said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure none of the others could hear them. "But my friends - well, they wouldn't understand. They don't know - "
"That you love Spike. That you love me?" William was frowning suddenly, the soft gentian blue eyes hardening into icy chips. "So you are ashamed of our actions - or is the truth that you are ashamed of me?"
"Yes - no, of course not - look, William, you can't possibly understand. It's very complicated."
William leant back against the book shelves and looked at her, his face serious, all laughter gone. "Love is complicated? I thought it a very straight forward emotion, Miss Summers. You say you love Spike and yet you will not admit this to your friends and family. Is that true?"
"Well, yes, but you see - "
The vampire stood upright and turned away from her. "Then I feel extremely sorry for this Spike," he said quietly and with a few long strides, left her and returned to the others with his books.
"Xander, stop jiggling the table," Anya demanded. "You're making all the papers slide off this end. It's all wibbly-wobbly."
"Xander can never read without moving his feet," Dawn commented dryly, turning a page and averting her eyes from the picture. She knew Buffy only let her do research if she stuck to the text.
"I get cramp in my toes," Xander complained. "They may be manly and perfectly formed - and not hairy like some people's I could mention but won't! - but they still get cramp when they have to be inactive for hour upon hour."
A couple of minutes silence followed, then, "Xander! The papers are still falling off the table!"
"It isn't all me," Xander said, his voice muffled from his head being upside down. "The legs of the table aren't even. There's a book stuck under one of them. Hang on a minute - there!"
With a thud, he appeared, scarlet faced, waving a small red leather covered book in the air. "Xander saves the day - again! No more wibble wobble - no more - "
"Hey, listen to this!" Willow had taken the book from his hand and was reading the page it had fallen open at. "Buffy - William - everyone - listen. This is a very old book. One of the oldest I've ever seen here in the Magic Shop. I think this might be what we are looking for."
Five pairs of eyes turned in her direction as she began to read…
"A demon's fire changes all,
The old returns.
Love alone can break the thrall,
Passion burns.
Past and present merged must be,
By love, desire and need times three."
There was a long silence. Willow looked up, biting her bottom lip, her brown eyes huge. "Buffy - I - I don't know what else this can mean except that - " she stopped.
"Oh, really," Anya broke in brightly. "It's quite clear. Buffy has got to make love to William. And want to. Three times!"
to be continued.