Body Double
Dec. 31st, 2006 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunWritten in response to a request from feedmykink .
Pairing: Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, Schmoop, Overemoting, het sex
A/N: I don't do Bangel. It's not my favorite pairing, so forgive my drama. I like Angel. I like Buffy. However, they get together and it all goes downhill. This was a request response, so I did my best. The request was for Angel to switch bodies with Spike, AU Season 3 so that he could make it with Buffy and still keep his soul. Read on...
feedmykink . Pairing: Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, Schmoop, Overemoting, het sex
A/N: I don't do Bangel. It's not my favorite pairing, so forgive my drama. I like Angel. I like Buffy. However, they get together and it all goes downhill. This was a request response, so I did my best. The request was for Angel to switch bodies with Spike, AU Season 3 so that he could make it with Buffy and still keep his soul. Read on...
Body Double
Angel stood in the shadows of the garden, stretching and flexing through his evening T’ai Chi routine. His eyes closed, he focused inside
himself. Inner peace, usually the goal of the routine, could never be achieved. His hope was merely to quiet the voice that clamored inside
him, telling him to smash and rend and tear. His famed iron control hung by perilously thin strands, and all because of one small girl.
He smelled her before he felt her, and tried desperately to quell the stirring in his groin. When warm hands ran over his back, no vile images or calming thoughts could stop his arousal. Whirling around, he clutched the wandering hands in his own larger ones. He hadn’t opened his eyes, so he smelt rather than saw, the spike of an arousal matching his own. He drew his visitor close, wrapping around the warmth. With the unerring instinct of a predator, he moved in and struck out, lips and tongue clashing together fiercely.
He released the warm hands and moved around the lithe body to finger hard nipple and soft breasts. The hands, meanwhile, had their own agenda and slid between the two bodies. Trailing blazes of sparks down taut stomach muscles, smooth fingers flickered and twitched over moist swollen flesh. Following the flaring curves down to straight lines and crisp hair, the fingers closed into a fist and began a sweet rhythmic stroking, forcing a gasp from Angel.
It was too much. No man, or vampire, could withstand such torture. Angel flung Buffy from his arms and moaned. This was hell. Wherever he’d been before was clearly a pale imitation, because he couldn’t recall ever being this miserable there. Soft sobs rang in his ears and he turned to watch in horror at the tears coursing down Buffy’s face.
“I’m…Buffy, I’m sorry. I just…my soul…” Angel stammered.
Buffy stared at him, wide eyes shimmering in the soft light. She understood, he knew she did. Didn’t make it any easier on either of them, though. He hated this, hated hurting her. Her softness, her sweetness, those qualities were what he valued about her and presented the greatest threat. He could feel his soul slipping away, almost literally, when he held her close. Somehow, he had to find a way to fix this. Before they destroyed themselves and the world.
After he calmed her down and sent her off to patrol, he went into the rarely used kitchen of the mansion. Moving a few items to the side, he found what he needed. A 253-year-old bottle of Bushmills, only recently acquired. He found a kind of black humor in drinking something laid down in the year of his death. He should be dead now, rotting in a forgotten grave or enduring the fires of hell promised to him by his Catholic upbringing. Instead, he was going to get drunk on a fine old whiskey and mourn his inability to give the woman he loved a small taste of happiness. Made that fiery hell/forgotten grave thing seem chipper and upbeat when he compared it to the tears in Buffy’s eyes.
Several hours later, he’d not only finished off his prized bottle of Bushmills, he’d worked his way through every other bottle of liquor in the house. Scotch, gin, a vodka he’d picked up in St. Petersburg back before the soul, several cordials he dimly remembered as presents intended for Drusilla, and a dusty cloudy bottle of absinthe. It was the absinthe that did him in, gave him visions of how to fix his current problem.
A potion, one Dru had used once or twice with excellent results. It allowed two people to temporarily switch bodies. He figured, with the clarity of logic that intoxication brings, that if he wasn’t himself, the curse wouldn’t work. He’d just…put himself inside Buffy in a metaphysical way. Than, the physical way wouldn’t set off any cursed triggers. After all, how perfectly happy can you be making love to your girlfriend if she happens to be wearing your body at the time?
It would just take a trip to the Magic Box, a few Latin incantations, and presto! Everything would be hunky-dory. Angel giggled at that. Hunky-dory, what a great phrase that was. Really, he couldn’t understand how it had gone out of style. Perhaps he’d work on its comeback when he was done with this.
He stumbled to the Magic Box and after a bit of illicit breaking and entering, he got the ingredients together. It took about an hour to get the potion together, and as soon as he chanted the final words of the last incantation, he bottled it up and set off to find Buffy. He stopped, dizzy, and tried to orient himself. If he’d just come from the Magic Box, and he had, he was pretty sure, yep got the potion, Magic Box for sure, then the cemetery should be…thataway!
He broke into an unsteady run, eyes closed to counteract the spinning just behind his eyes. He was a vampire champion; he could find a Slayer with his eyes closed. Vision! It really was an overrated sense, especially for a vampire. He had a keen sense of smell and was he a predator or wasn’t he? He was, right? So, pfft! No need to actually see anything.
He thought that right up until he collided with something hard and unyielding. The potion tumbled out of his fingers, splashing all over him and the whatever it was he’d run into. The dizziness increased and he felt lightheaded, as if he were flying. Flying! Flying was good. Flying meant he’d be with Buffy even quicker. Quicker? Was that a real word? Hmm, dizziness gone. He cracked open an eye, just to get a look at what he’d run into. He saw a pair of feet.
Feet? He’d run into feet? How did feet get so high up? Wait, he was lying down. He stood up. There was a body attached to the feet. Tall, even stretched out on the ground. Dark hair, rugged face, muscular body and really quite attractive, although the forehead seemed a bit large. He reached out a hand to help the stranger to his feet and saw long slender white fingers. Fingers that definitely did not resemble his own large ones. Angel’s jaw dropped. The potion! He splattered the potion all over himself and this complete stranger, triggering the switch. Dammit!
“What in the bleedin’ fuck is going on?” The stranger in his body stood up, glaring at Angel darkly.
“Spike?” Angel couldn’t stop the shock from creeping into his voice. Of all the people to switch bodies with, it had to be Spike.
“Do I know you, mate? More to the point, do I wanna kill you? Hmm, yeah, think I do, “ Spike concluded and suddenly Angel saw fangs.
“Spike, it’s me, Angel. And you really don’t want to kill me right now, “ Angel growled.
“Nice try, ponce. Try that act on another vamp, p’rhaps. One that don’t know Angel personally. Git’s in the way of being family and we know each other intimately. I’d know His Royal Foreheadness anywhere, and you ain’t him, “ Spike replied, voice laced with humor. “ Matter o’ fact, if I wasn’t about to kill you myself, I’d go find my dear old sire and let him know he’s got an impersonator. ‘Magine he’d have quite the time proving his identity to you.”
“Spike, it is me and I CAN prove it. Remember that night in St. Petersburg? Darla and Drusilla were at the Master’s Court and we spent the whole winter feasting on Cossacks. Well, a few of them took exception to our games and tried to rush us. You remember? I asked you to hold my hand…” Angel trailed off, unwilling to finish the tale.
“Angelus? What the hell happened to you? Did you cross another clan o’ gypsies?”
“No, Spike, “ Angel sighed. “I ran into you and spilled a chimera potion I’d made all over both of us. This body, “ he gestured, “ belongs to you.”
“Really? That’s what I look like? ‘M a right handsome bloke, ain’t I, “ Spike mused, prowling around his own body. “I’d shag myself rotten, “ he continued, eyes unfocused and dreamy.
Angel snorted. Only Spike could get hard on the thought of fucking himself. That thought sent a row of mental dominoes tumbling inside Angel’s head. Spike. Spike’s body. Fucking.
“Would you like to see your body in action, Spike?” Angel asked seductively. It was always best with Spike to appeal to his innate hedonism. Angel knew that Spike wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of seeing his own body pounding into willing flesh. While the thought of allowing any part of Spike to touch Buffy was infuriating, he was willing to strike a devil’s bargain in order to be with her.
“What d’you mean, Peaches? You thinkin’ of reliving old times? You and me, eh?”
“No, “ Angel recoiled. Not that he and Spike hadn’t…but that was a century ago and not what his soul craved now. He didn’t deserve the love of someone as pure and perfect as Buffy. But he couldn’t enjoy the more demonic aspects of himself either.
“Hold on a sec. Chimera potion, and an offer from your soulful self to view meself in action? This is all about you and your little Goldilocks, innit? Savin’ your soul and getting’ your rocks off not compatible, as I recall, “ Spike taunted.
“I thought you of all people would be grateful for my soul, Spikey. After all, you didn’t exactly enjoy your last go ‘round with Angelus, “ Angel responded through gritted teeth.
“True enough. Wasn’t exactly himself, my sire. S’pose you think I should let you take my body and yours over to the Slayer and give her a good heave-ho, hmm,” Spike smirked.
“Please, Spike. Do this for me. I need…I want…she deserves so much and I can’t…” Angel felt himself breaking down and turned his face away. He couldn’t bear to see his own face mocking him.
“Well then, let’s get on then, “ Spike replied briskly. “Potion’s only good for 6 hours. ‘Spect it’ll take that long to convince your girl to go along with this scheme of yours.”
“You’re…you mean you’ll…Spike…” Angel stammered, seeing but not understanding Spike’s kindness.
“We’re family, you great poof. M’sire’s in there somewhere, and yeah, he’s a right crazy bastard these days. Doesn’t mean I don’t still love him, though, “ Spike muttered.
“Thank you, “ Angel said simply. There was more, hanging in the air between them. Words unspoken, because to give those words voice meant that the comfortable hate would be replaced with something old and familiar but now uncomfortable. So it would have to be enough for both of them. Striding off towards the mansion, they walked side by side in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Convincing Buffy hadn’t been nearly as difficult as the two had anticipated. She had been waiting for Angel at the mansion and after a rather dramatic attempt at staking “Spike”, she’d calmed down enough to listen to their explanation. Not only was she willing, Spike noted, but she seemed happy to go along with Angel's daft plan.
Well, he imagined Slayers’ got urges just like normal girls. Weren’t normal girls, but that was why she needed a vampire. Who else could handle Slayer strength? She’d break a normal man in to tiny bits and wouldn’t that just kill the mood? He snorted at the idea of Buffy dating a regular boy. Never happen, he concluded.
Angel and Buffy turned to look at Spike when he snorted. He seemed preoccupied and Angel had to call his name twice to get his attention. When Spike looked up, Angel smiled. The smile lit up the face he was wearing, and Buffy realized suddenly that Spike’s face and body were pretty darn hot. She licked her lips, anxious to get started. Sure, this had to rank as one of her weirder moments. How many girls had to include a third party just to make love to their boyfriend, body and soul? Still, at least the third party wasn’t ugly or old. Okay, old but not really old in the wrinkly way.
“So, who gets first dibs on banging the Slayer? What’s it to be, Angel’s body or his soul, my sweet, “ Spike asked offhandedly.
“First off, Spike, this isn’t banging or shagging or fucking, “ Angel hissed. “If you think you’re going to use my body to hurt Buffy, I’ll stake you right now and damn the consequences. I’ll be there the whole time and I swear Spike, if you treat her with anything less than tenderness and respect…”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. She’s holy and pure, everything sweet and beautiful in the world. I’ll not hurt yer girl, sire. My word as an Aurelian, “ Spike said solemnly. He meant it too. He wasn’t about to make love to the chit, as he wasn’t anywhere near in love with her. But he wouldn’t hurt her, either. Not his style, he reflected. He might kill women, but he never inflicted pain of that nature of them.
“Look, I appreciate this whole ground rules thing. But, seriously, nothing is going to make this less bizarre. So before I decide to have a major wig, can we just get on with it, “ Buffy cut in.
Spike strode across the room and lifted the Slayer off her feet. She laid her head on his shoulder trustingly and he stalked off with his bundle towards Angel’s bedroom. Might as well get the show started, and Spike didn’t think any more talking would make this whole thing better for any of them. He could hear Angel following them, and he felt a wicked little impulse to show up the poncy git. Make the Slayer scream, yeah? Wasn’t like this was the first time he and Angel had shared a woman. Still, now he had more experience in the field. Might be able to put all his years to good use.
Spike laid Buffy out on the bed and pulled the silky shirt off Angel’s body. Angel’s body, but currently his. Deciding that thinking about the complexities of the situation would only drive him mad, he put it out of his mind and focused on the slender form in front of him. Spike leaned over and put his lips to the Slayer’s ear, whispering erotic compliments as he removed piece after piece of clothing. She lay there, shivering and exposed.
“Any idea how lovely you look, pet, “ Spike murmured as he ran his hands lightly across her nipples. She shook her head, eyes wide. As her nipples tightened and crinkled in pleasure, those eyelids drooped in pleasure. Spike braced himself on one arm and leaned over to lick up the long line of her neck. He could smell it; hot Slayer blood pumping away under the paper-thin tissue, and all his blood ran directly south. Couldn’t nibble on the hors d’oeuvres, but hey! Vampire here! No way the smell of Slayer blood could do anything else but get him rock hard and aching.
Moving over her, Spike let his tongue run across her neck to pink plump lips. He dipped in, tasting her sweetness. He kissed her deeply, allowing her flavor to run over his tongue. It was strawberries fresh from the field and rainy days by the fire wrapped in a very pretty package, he decided as he descended down her body. Soft nipples and full breasts melded into a slender waist as he nipped and suckled his way around her skin.
There it was, her little treasure box. Fluffy golden curls and an intoxicating aroma surrounded his face, and he dived in. Tongue lapping at an entirely different sweetness, he pondered the differences between her two flavors. This was juicy peaches and butterscotch candies melting in the summer sun, and he drank her down eagerly.
Buffy was moaning now, panting eagerly beneath Spike’s talented ministrations. Angel watched, concerned at first but growing more and more aroused as Spike drew out Buffy’s pleasure. Seeing his own body, large and dark, twined around Buffy’s smaller blonde form had Angel tearing the clothes off his borrowed form and fisting the hard cock between his legs. He saw two fingers sliding in and out of Buffy’s moist passage, Spike preparing her for the coming invasion and Angel couldn’t hold back, his moans of completion joining Buffy’s orgasmic scream.
Spike smirked. Yeah, he was a talented fuck, bringing these two off with just his fingers. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure Angel was still focused on them, Spike withdrew his fingers from Buffy and brought them up to her lips.
“Taste it, Slayer. Taste yourself for me, that’s a good girl. Right tasty morsel you are, gettin’ the both of us all worked up like this. Want more, pet, “ Spike asked, looking down at the flushed face beneath him. She nodded, only half-aware of his words, as she suckled at his fingers. He smiled beatifically, the face he wore resembling the angelic being it had been named after and slid his aching prick inside her wet heat.
Buffy gasped and arched upwards, as Spike slowly filled her with Angel’s thick cock. She was thrashing around him and Spike groaned, suddenly seeing the good side of preternaturally strong Slayer muscles. He panted, trying to control himself long enough to give the Slayer a good seeing to.
“Like that, luv? Mmm, you do, don’t you? Like me fillin’ up your pretty little quim, making you scream. Come on then, “ and with that, Spike grabbed Buffy’s hips and rolled over onto his back. “Give us a good ride, Slayer.”
Buffy stared down at him, clearly not comprehending his request. Spike wrapped his hands around her and started sliding her up and down his rigid length. She gasped, threading her hands through his. Catching the rhythm, she began to move on her own, tentatively at first. Gaining confidence from his growls and grunts, she rode him faster.
“Pet…Buffy luv, yeah just like that. Give it to me good…feel that? Feel me inside you…so good, innit? Yeah, cum for me…” Spike kept up a running commentary as his fingers worked busily on her clit. He felt her clench around him, her sticky cream running down his shaft to pool at the root.
“Mmm, you’re a juicy little bit…leaking all over me…harder, baby…ooh ooh, sweet little Slayer…gonna cum for you, drench you in my spunk…ungh!” Spike lifted up from the bed, Buffy’s slight weight no match for the power of his orgasm. He shot bolt after bolt deep inside her and his legs, rubbery and weak, slid out from under him. He caught Buffy as she too collapsed, boneless, on his chest.
He stroked her back, nuzzling into her hair, as he soothed her down from her peak. His eyes met Angel’s, and the look of desperate desire on the other vampire’s face caused interesting twitches to the organ still buried deep inside Buffy. She whimpered, clawing at Spike’s shoulders, seeking more sensation.
Spike beckoned Angel to the bed and wordlessly slid over, pulling the slack figure off his once more erect cock and onto Angel. Angel smiled at him, a small uncomfortable smile that invited Spike to bugger off. Spike, however, had no intention of leaving the party so soon. He’d been given permission to watch his own body in action and he intended to do just that.
Angel smoothed Buffy’s hair away from her face and placed a reverent kiss on her forehead. Her green eyes met his now bright blue eyes and he saw the love and passion in their cloudy depths. She reached a hand towards his face and smiled sleepily at him.
“Now that you’ve had my body, Buffy, I’d like to give you the rest of me. My heart and my soul, the most important parts of me, all for you, “ Angel breathed against her sweat soaked skin.
“Angel, “ Buffy murmured, arching against him. “Make me yours again.”
He met her lips, softly, tongue teasing its way into the warm cavern of her mouth. Spike had given her a fierce hard passion, but only Angel could give her love. Time to show her exactly how much love he had for her inside him.
He ran his hands down her body, soft light touches that stirred them both. He laid her down and slid next to her, his hands cupping her face. They kissed, nipping teeth and exploring tongues, trying to devour each other.
“Angel,” Buffy moaned, “ touch me, please. I need…I need.” She was writhing again, rubbing her soft form against the angles and planes of Spike’s body. Angel moved one hand from her face, still kissing her delectable lips. He skipped down her body, fingers jumping and teasing. His mouth followed the line of his fingers, and he laved first one nipple then the other, pulling them deep into his mouth. Buffy clasped the back of Angel’s head as he suckled her, feeling the sensation travel from her breast to her belly. The heat pooled there, and spread down between her thighs.
Angel could smell the rush of her arousal, and dragged his hand down her abdomen. Parting her folds, he teased around her slit, causing Buffy to thrust her hips upwards. He chuckled around her nipple, vibrating it. Buffy panted in frustration, seeking stimulation to ease the ache. Angel bit down lightly on the nipple in his mouth as he thrust three fingers deep inside her.
He felt her thighs clamp around him as she began to pump herself on his fingers. She was so close that it only took a few moments before her moist walls clenched down. Crying out his name, Buffy shook with the force of her release.
Angel returned to her mouth, giving her long deep kisses designed to soothe. She grabbed him, eager and wanting. He felt Buffy’s legs slither around his waist and suddenly, he was slipping and sliding, cock rubbing against her pussy. A small hand grasped his shaft, and then Buffy guided him gently inside her.
A furnace. That was all Angel could think as his sank into her. She was ablaze with warmth and heat, slick with desire. He pumped into her slowly, wanting to feel every inch of her surrounding him. Her tightness enveloped him, cradling him tenderly.
“Buffy…Oh Buffy…love you so much, “ Angel sighed against her hair. “Want to be with you always, my one, my only…” He was rocking against her now, barely moving, just enjoying the connection of their bodies and souls.
Their eyes met, and a single tear slipped down Buffy’s cheeks. Angel leaned over, licking up the tear. He tasted her regret, her love, her soul in that one tear. She was his, the one beautiful thing in his whole existence. This was what put his soul at risk, this connection that made him forget the damnation that he knew awaited him one day.
Spike sat silently in the corner. His brow knit as he watched the two lovers embrace. He’d always known Angel for a closet romantic, and yeah, maybe now he got why the bumbling fool was so hung up on the little girl. She was delicious, and he’d gotten a chance to taste that for himself. Still, no need to be a prat about it. He sighed, and resigned himself to watching this ridiculous reenactment of “Romeo and Juliet”. Spike enjoyed tenderness and soft touches, but he also enjoyed a rousing finish. Not likely to happen with these two, he groused to himself.
Angel began to rock his pelvis faster, stroking in and out of Buffy’s incredible warmth. He pulled out farther and farther, until just his cockhead remained inside. He held himself over her, nursing at her breast. He began to thrust again, short and shallow, teasing and tempting. Buffy clamped her legs around his waist, pulling herself up and down. Just as she began to quiver, Angel swiveled his hips, giving her soft core a wonderful friction that pushed her over the edge.
It was too much. All the denial, the cold showers, the restrained affection caught up with Angel and he buried himself deep within the woman he loved. Calling out for her, he shuddered ecstatically as his semen filled Buffy to overflowing. Strong arms around him, a sweet voice murmuring his name and he wept. Happy to have her close, to be with her in this intimate moment, the restrictions of his soul gave his happiness a knife’s edge. This was it, their last moments together.
There was another set of hands on him, rubbing his back. A different set of lips kissing his hair, a deeper voice crooning words of comfort. Spike had joined them, and for once, he offered affection, not hostility. Angel stiffened, unwilling to accept Spike’s presence in his last moments with Buffy. He raised himself up, and two pairs of eyes met his. Both were filled with affection and sympathy.
“Angel, look, “ Spike began. “ ‘M not offering myself up as your soddin’ marital aid, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you can’t be with your bird like this all the time.”
“Angel, look at me, “ Buffy commanded. “Thank you, for being willing to do this for me. It’s still the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, Spike’s lips on me, so not high on the wish list…”
“Oi, Slayer! I’ll have you know my lips’re highly sought after on two continents,” Spike interjected indignantly.
“Yeah whatever, anyways…it’s you I love, Angel. Not your body, but you. This,” she gestured expansively, encompassing their nude bodies, “ is wonderful. I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy it. But, it’s not what I love about you. I feel in love with you before we ever got groiny. So, if we can’t, it’s not so big a deal.”
“Looks awfully big to me, Slayer, “ Spike mused, glancing down at the now soft organ that lay between his borrowed legs.
“Spike, you’re a pig, “ she replied without heat.
“Oink bloody oink, Slayer, “ he returned, giving her a kiss on her nose.
“Okay, okay, you two,” Angel smiled tiredly. “I got it. No more brooding. Spike, I just…this was…”
“Don’t hurt yerself, Angel. I got it. Let’s just call us even now. You’ve been with mine and I’ve been with yours. Din’t do this outta the goodness of my unbeating heart, you know. Big Bad here, “ Spike grumbled.
“Right,” Angel returned solemnly. “I understand completely. At any rate, we only have a little while until we switch back.”
“Finally,” Spike sighed dramatically. “Not that I didn’t enjoy myself, but I’d rather have my own luscious body back. Draggin’ this fat arse around is work, Peaches. Don’t know how you do it.”
“Spike!”
The End
Angel stood in the shadows of the garden, stretching and flexing through his evening T’ai Chi routine. His eyes closed, he focused inside
himself. Inner peace, usually the goal of the routine, could never be achieved. His hope was merely to quiet the voice that clamored inside
him, telling him to smash and rend and tear. His famed iron control hung by perilously thin strands, and all because of one small girl.
He smelled her before he felt her, and tried desperately to quell the stirring in his groin. When warm hands ran over his back, no vile images or calming thoughts could stop his arousal. Whirling around, he clutched the wandering hands in his own larger ones. He hadn’t opened his eyes, so he smelt rather than saw, the spike of an arousal matching his own. He drew his visitor close, wrapping around the warmth. With the unerring instinct of a predator, he moved in and struck out, lips and tongue clashing together fiercely.
He released the warm hands and moved around the lithe body to finger hard nipple and soft breasts. The hands, meanwhile, had their own agenda and slid between the two bodies. Trailing blazes of sparks down taut stomach muscles, smooth fingers flickered and twitched over moist swollen flesh. Following the flaring curves down to straight lines and crisp hair, the fingers closed into a fist and began a sweet rhythmic stroking, forcing a gasp from Angel.
It was too much. No man, or vampire, could withstand such torture. Angel flung Buffy from his arms and moaned. This was hell. Wherever he’d been before was clearly a pale imitation, because he couldn’t recall ever being this miserable there. Soft sobs rang in his ears and he turned to watch in horror at the tears coursing down Buffy’s face.
“I’m…Buffy, I’m sorry. I just…my soul…” Angel stammered.
Buffy stared at him, wide eyes shimmering in the soft light. She understood, he knew she did. Didn’t make it any easier on either of them, though. He hated this, hated hurting her. Her softness, her sweetness, those qualities were what he valued about her and presented the greatest threat. He could feel his soul slipping away, almost literally, when he held her close. Somehow, he had to find a way to fix this. Before they destroyed themselves and the world.
After he calmed her down and sent her off to patrol, he went into the rarely used kitchen of the mansion. Moving a few items to the side, he found what he needed. A 253-year-old bottle of Bushmills, only recently acquired. He found a kind of black humor in drinking something laid down in the year of his death. He should be dead now, rotting in a forgotten grave or enduring the fires of hell promised to him by his Catholic upbringing. Instead, he was going to get drunk on a fine old whiskey and mourn his inability to give the woman he loved a small taste of happiness. Made that fiery hell/forgotten grave thing seem chipper and upbeat when he compared it to the tears in Buffy’s eyes.
Several hours later, he’d not only finished off his prized bottle of Bushmills, he’d worked his way through every other bottle of liquor in the house. Scotch, gin, a vodka he’d picked up in St. Petersburg back before the soul, several cordials he dimly remembered as presents intended for Drusilla, and a dusty cloudy bottle of absinthe. It was the absinthe that did him in, gave him visions of how to fix his current problem.
A potion, one Dru had used once or twice with excellent results. It allowed two people to temporarily switch bodies. He figured, with the clarity of logic that intoxication brings, that if he wasn’t himself, the curse wouldn’t work. He’d just…put himself inside Buffy in a metaphysical way. Than, the physical way wouldn’t set off any cursed triggers. After all, how perfectly happy can you be making love to your girlfriend if she happens to be wearing your body at the time?
It would just take a trip to the Magic Box, a few Latin incantations, and presto! Everything would be hunky-dory. Angel giggled at that. Hunky-dory, what a great phrase that was. Really, he couldn’t understand how it had gone out of style. Perhaps he’d work on its comeback when he was done with this.
He stumbled to the Magic Box and after a bit of illicit breaking and entering, he got the ingredients together. It took about an hour to get the potion together, and as soon as he chanted the final words of the last incantation, he bottled it up and set off to find Buffy. He stopped, dizzy, and tried to orient himself. If he’d just come from the Magic Box, and he had, he was pretty sure, yep got the potion, Magic Box for sure, then the cemetery should be…thataway!
He broke into an unsteady run, eyes closed to counteract the spinning just behind his eyes. He was a vampire champion; he could find a Slayer with his eyes closed. Vision! It really was an overrated sense, especially for a vampire. He had a keen sense of smell and was he a predator or wasn’t he? He was, right? So, pfft! No need to actually see anything.
He thought that right up until he collided with something hard and unyielding. The potion tumbled out of his fingers, splashing all over him and the whatever it was he’d run into. The dizziness increased and he felt lightheaded, as if he were flying. Flying! Flying was good. Flying meant he’d be with Buffy even quicker. Quicker? Was that a real word? Hmm, dizziness gone. He cracked open an eye, just to get a look at what he’d run into. He saw a pair of feet.
Feet? He’d run into feet? How did feet get so high up? Wait, he was lying down. He stood up. There was a body attached to the feet. Tall, even stretched out on the ground. Dark hair, rugged face, muscular body and really quite attractive, although the forehead seemed a bit large. He reached out a hand to help the stranger to his feet and saw long slender white fingers. Fingers that definitely did not resemble his own large ones. Angel’s jaw dropped. The potion! He splattered the potion all over himself and this complete stranger, triggering the switch. Dammit!
“What in the bleedin’ fuck is going on?” The stranger in his body stood up, glaring at Angel darkly.
“Spike?” Angel couldn’t stop the shock from creeping into his voice. Of all the people to switch bodies with, it had to be Spike.
“Do I know you, mate? More to the point, do I wanna kill you? Hmm, yeah, think I do, “ Spike concluded and suddenly Angel saw fangs.
“Spike, it’s me, Angel. And you really don’t want to kill me right now, “ Angel growled.
“Nice try, ponce. Try that act on another vamp, p’rhaps. One that don’t know Angel personally. Git’s in the way of being family and we know each other intimately. I’d know His Royal Foreheadness anywhere, and you ain’t him, “ Spike replied, voice laced with humor. “ Matter o’ fact, if I wasn’t about to kill you myself, I’d go find my dear old sire and let him know he’s got an impersonator. ‘Magine he’d have quite the time proving his identity to you.”
“Spike, it is me and I CAN prove it. Remember that night in St. Petersburg? Darla and Drusilla were at the Master’s Court and we spent the whole winter feasting on Cossacks. Well, a few of them took exception to our games and tried to rush us. You remember? I asked you to hold my hand…” Angel trailed off, unwilling to finish the tale.
“Angelus? What the hell happened to you? Did you cross another clan o’ gypsies?”
“No, Spike, “ Angel sighed. “I ran into you and spilled a chimera potion I’d made all over both of us. This body, “ he gestured, “ belongs to you.”
“Really? That’s what I look like? ‘M a right handsome bloke, ain’t I, “ Spike mused, prowling around his own body. “I’d shag myself rotten, “ he continued, eyes unfocused and dreamy.
Angel snorted. Only Spike could get hard on the thought of fucking himself. That thought sent a row of mental dominoes tumbling inside Angel’s head. Spike. Spike’s body. Fucking.
“Would you like to see your body in action, Spike?” Angel asked seductively. It was always best with Spike to appeal to his innate hedonism. Angel knew that Spike wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of seeing his own body pounding into willing flesh. While the thought of allowing any part of Spike to touch Buffy was infuriating, he was willing to strike a devil’s bargain in order to be with her.
“What d’you mean, Peaches? You thinkin’ of reliving old times? You and me, eh?”
“No, “ Angel recoiled. Not that he and Spike hadn’t…but that was a century ago and not what his soul craved now. He didn’t deserve the love of someone as pure and perfect as Buffy. But he couldn’t enjoy the more demonic aspects of himself either.
“Hold on a sec. Chimera potion, and an offer from your soulful self to view meself in action? This is all about you and your little Goldilocks, innit? Savin’ your soul and getting’ your rocks off not compatible, as I recall, “ Spike taunted.
“I thought you of all people would be grateful for my soul, Spikey. After all, you didn’t exactly enjoy your last go ‘round with Angelus, “ Angel responded through gritted teeth.
“True enough. Wasn’t exactly himself, my sire. S’pose you think I should let you take my body and yours over to the Slayer and give her a good heave-ho, hmm,” Spike smirked.
“Please, Spike. Do this for me. I need…I want…she deserves so much and I can’t…” Angel felt himself breaking down and turned his face away. He couldn’t bear to see his own face mocking him.
“Well then, let’s get on then, “ Spike replied briskly. “Potion’s only good for 6 hours. ‘Spect it’ll take that long to convince your girl to go along with this scheme of yours.”
“You’re…you mean you’ll…Spike…” Angel stammered, seeing but not understanding Spike’s kindness.
“We’re family, you great poof. M’sire’s in there somewhere, and yeah, he’s a right crazy bastard these days. Doesn’t mean I don’t still love him, though, “ Spike muttered.
“Thank you, “ Angel said simply. There was more, hanging in the air between them. Words unspoken, because to give those words voice meant that the comfortable hate would be replaced with something old and familiar but now uncomfortable. So it would have to be enough for both of them. Striding off towards the mansion, they walked side by side in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Convincing Buffy hadn’t been nearly as difficult as the two had anticipated. She had been waiting for Angel at the mansion and after a rather dramatic attempt at staking “Spike”, she’d calmed down enough to listen to their explanation. Not only was she willing, Spike noted, but she seemed happy to go along with Angel's daft plan.
Well, he imagined Slayers’ got urges just like normal girls. Weren’t normal girls, but that was why she needed a vampire. Who else could handle Slayer strength? She’d break a normal man in to tiny bits and wouldn’t that just kill the mood? He snorted at the idea of Buffy dating a regular boy. Never happen, he concluded.
Angel and Buffy turned to look at Spike when he snorted. He seemed preoccupied and Angel had to call his name twice to get his attention. When Spike looked up, Angel smiled. The smile lit up the face he was wearing, and Buffy realized suddenly that Spike’s face and body were pretty darn hot. She licked her lips, anxious to get started. Sure, this had to rank as one of her weirder moments. How many girls had to include a third party just to make love to their boyfriend, body and soul? Still, at least the third party wasn’t ugly or old. Okay, old but not really old in the wrinkly way.
“So, who gets first dibs on banging the Slayer? What’s it to be, Angel’s body or his soul, my sweet, “ Spike asked offhandedly.
“First off, Spike, this isn’t banging or shagging or fucking, “ Angel hissed. “If you think you’re going to use my body to hurt Buffy, I’ll stake you right now and damn the consequences. I’ll be there the whole time and I swear Spike, if you treat her with anything less than tenderness and respect…”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. She’s holy and pure, everything sweet and beautiful in the world. I’ll not hurt yer girl, sire. My word as an Aurelian, “ Spike said solemnly. He meant it too. He wasn’t about to make love to the chit, as he wasn’t anywhere near in love with her. But he wouldn’t hurt her, either. Not his style, he reflected. He might kill women, but he never inflicted pain of that nature of them.
“Look, I appreciate this whole ground rules thing. But, seriously, nothing is going to make this less bizarre. So before I decide to have a major wig, can we just get on with it, “ Buffy cut in.
Spike strode across the room and lifted the Slayer off her feet. She laid her head on his shoulder trustingly and he stalked off with his bundle towards Angel’s bedroom. Might as well get the show started, and Spike didn’t think any more talking would make this whole thing better for any of them. He could hear Angel following them, and he felt a wicked little impulse to show up the poncy git. Make the Slayer scream, yeah? Wasn’t like this was the first time he and Angel had shared a woman. Still, now he had more experience in the field. Might be able to put all his years to good use.
Spike laid Buffy out on the bed and pulled the silky shirt off Angel’s body. Angel’s body, but currently his. Deciding that thinking about the complexities of the situation would only drive him mad, he put it out of his mind and focused on the slender form in front of him. Spike leaned over and put his lips to the Slayer’s ear, whispering erotic compliments as he removed piece after piece of clothing. She lay there, shivering and exposed.
“Any idea how lovely you look, pet, “ Spike murmured as he ran his hands lightly across her nipples. She shook her head, eyes wide. As her nipples tightened and crinkled in pleasure, those eyelids drooped in pleasure. Spike braced himself on one arm and leaned over to lick up the long line of her neck. He could smell it; hot Slayer blood pumping away under the paper-thin tissue, and all his blood ran directly south. Couldn’t nibble on the hors d’oeuvres, but hey! Vampire here! No way the smell of Slayer blood could do anything else but get him rock hard and aching.
Moving over her, Spike let his tongue run across her neck to pink plump lips. He dipped in, tasting her sweetness. He kissed her deeply, allowing her flavor to run over his tongue. It was strawberries fresh from the field and rainy days by the fire wrapped in a very pretty package, he decided as he descended down her body. Soft nipples and full breasts melded into a slender waist as he nipped and suckled his way around her skin.
There it was, her little treasure box. Fluffy golden curls and an intoxicating aroma surrounded his face, and he dived in. Tongue lapping at an entirely different sweetness, he pondered the differences between her two flavors. This was juicy peaches and butterscotch candies melting in the summer sun, and he drank her down eagerly.
Buffy was moaning now, panting eagerly beneath Spike’s talented ministrations. Angel watched, concerned at first but growing more and more aroused as Spike drew out Buffy’s pleasure. Seeing his own body, large and dark, twined around Buffy’s smaller blonde form had Angel tearing the clothes off his borrowed form and fisting the hard cock between his legs. He saw two fingers sliding in and out of Buffy’s moist passage, Spike preparing her for the coming invasion and Angel couldn’t hold back, his moans of completion joining Buffy’s orgasmic scream.
Spike smirked. Yeah, he was a talented fuck, bringing these two off with just his fingers. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure Angel was still focused on them, Spike withdrew his fingers from Buffy and brought them up to her lips.
“Taste it, Slayer. Taste yourself for me, that’s a good girl. Right tasty morsel you are, gettin’ the both of us all worked up like this. Want more, pet, “ Spike asked, looking down at the flushed face beneath him. She nodded, only half-aware of his words, as she suckled at his fingers. He smiled beatifically, the face he wore resembling the angelic being it had been named after and slid his aching prick inside her wet heat.
Buffy gasped and arched upwards, as Spike slowly filled her with Angel’s thick cock. She was thrashing around him and Spike groaned, suddenly seeing the good side of preternaturally strong Slayer muscles. He panted, trying to control himself long enough to give the Slayer a good seeing to.
“Like that, luv? Mmm, you do, don’t you? Like me fillin’ up your pretty little quim, making you scream. Come on then, “ and with that, Spike grabbed Buffy’s hips and rolled over onto his back. “Give us a good ride, Slayer.”
Buffy stared down at him, clearly not comprehending his request. Spike wrapped his hands around her and started sliding her up and down his rigid length. She gasped, threading her hands through his. Catching the rhythm, she began to move on her own, tentatively at first. Gaining confidence from his growls and grunts, she rode him faster.
“Pet…Buffy luv, yeah just like that. Give it to me good…feel that? Feel me inside you…so good, innit? Yeah, cum for me…” Spike kept up a running commentary as his fingers worked busily on her clit. He felt her clench around him, her sticky cream running down his shaft to pool at the root.
“Mmm, you’re a juicy little bit…leaking all over me…harder, baby…ooh ooh, sweet little Slayer…gonna cum for you, drench you in my spunk…ungh!” Spike lifted up from the bed, Buffy’s slight weight no match for the power of his orgasm. He shot bolt after bolt deep inside her and his legs, rubbery and weak, slid out from under him. He caught Buffy as she too collapsed, boneless, on his chest.
He stroked her back, nuzzling into her hair, as he soothed her down from her peak. His eyes met Angel’s, and the look of desperate desire on the other vampire’s face caused interesting twitches to the organ still buried deep inside Buffy. She whimpered, clawing at Spike’s shoulders, seeking more sensation.
Spike beckoned Angel to the bed and wordlessly slid over, pulling the slack figure off his once more erect cock and onto Angel. Angel smiled at him, a small uncomfortable smile that invited Spike to bugger off. Spike, however, had no intention of leaving the party so soon. He’d been given permission to watch his own body in action and he intended to do just that.
Angel smoothed Buffy’s hair away from her face and placed a reverent kiss on her forehead. Her green eyes met his now bright blue eyes and he saw the love and passion in their cloudy depths. She reached a hand towards his face and smiled sleepily at him.
“Now that you’ve had my body, Buffy, I’d like to give you the rest of me. My heart and my soul, the most important parts of me, all for you, “ Angel breathed against her sweat soaked skin.
“Angel, “ Buffy murmured, arching against him. “Make me yours again.”
He met her lips, softly, tongue teasing its way into the warm cavern of her mouth. Spike had given her a fierce hard passion, but only Angel could give her love. Time to show her exactly how much love he had for her inside him.
He ran his hands down her body, soft light touches that stirred them both. He laid her down and slid next to her, his hands cupping her face. They kissed, nipping teeth and exploring tongues, trying to devour each other.
“Angel,” Buffy moaned, “ touch me, please. I need…I need.” She was writhing again, rubbing her soft form against the angles and planes of Spike’s body. Angel moved one hand from her face, still kissing her delectable lips. He skipped down her body, fingers jumping and teasing. His mouth followed the line of his fingers, and he laved first one nipple then the other, pulling them deep into his mouth. Buffy clasped the back of Angel’s head as he suckled her, feeling the sensation travel from her breast to her belly. The heat pooled there, and spread down between her thighs.
Angel could smell the rush of her arousal, and dragged his hand down her abdomen. Parting her folds, he teased around her slit, causing Buffy to thrust her hips upwards. He chuckled around her nipple, vibrating it. Buffy panted in frustration, seeking stimulation to ease the ache. Angel bit down lightly on the nipple in his mouth as he thrust three fingers deep inside her.
He felt her thighs clamp around him as she began to pump herself on his fingers. She was so close that it only took a few moments before her moist walls clenched down. Crying out his name, Buffy shook with the force of her release.
Angel returned to her mouth, giving her long deep kisses designed to soothe. She grabbed him, eager and wanting. He felt Buffy’s legs slither around his waist and suddenly, he was slipping and sliding, cock rubbing against her pussy. A small hand grasped his shaft, and then Buffy guided him gently inside her.
A furnace. That was all Angel could think as his sank into her. She was ablaze with warmth and heat, slick with desire. He pumped into her slowly, wanting to feel every inch of her surrounding him. Her tightness enveloped him, cradling him tenderly.
“Buffy…Oh Buffy…love you so much, “ Angel sighed against her hair. “Want to be with you always, my one, my only…” He was rocking against her now, barely moving, just enjoying the connection of their bodies and souls.
Their eyes met, and a single tear slipped down Buffy’s cheeks. Angel leaned over, licking up the tear. He tasted her regret, her love, her soul in that one tear. She was his, the one beautiful thing in his whole existence. This was what put his soul at risk, this connection that made him forget the damnation that he knew awaited him one day.
Spike sat silently in the corner. His brow knit as he watched the two lovers embrace. He’d always known Angel for a closet romantic, and yeah, maybe now he got why the bumbling fool was so hung up on the little girl. She was delicious, and he’d gotten a chance to taste that for himself. Still, no need to be a prat about it. He sighed, and resigned himself to watching this ridiculous reenactment of “Romeo and Juliet”. Spike enjoyed tenderness and soft touches, but he also enjoyed a rousing finish. Not likely to happen with these two, he groused to himself.
Angel began to rock his pelvis faster, stroking in and out of Buffy’s incredible warmth. He pulled out farther and farther, until just his cockhead remained inside. He held himself over her, nursing at her breast. He began to thrust again, short and shallow, teasing and tempting. Buffy clamped her legs around his waist, pulling herself up and down. Just as she began to quiver, Angel swiveled his hips, giving her soft core a wonderful friction that pushed her over the edge.
It was too much. All the denial, the cold showers, the restrained affection caught up with Angel and he buried himself deep within the woman he loved. Calling out for her, he shuddered ecstatically as his semen filled Buffy to overflowing. Strong arms around him, a sweet voice murmuring his name and he wept. Happy to have her close, to be with her in this intimate moment, the restrictions of his soul gave his happiness a knife’s edge. This was it, their last moments together.
There was another set of hands on him, rubbing his back. A different set of lips kissing his hair, a deeper voice crooning words of comfort. Spike had joined them, and for once, he offered affection, not hostility. Angel stiffened, unwilling to accept Spike’s presence in his last moments with Buffy. He raised himself up, and two pairs of eyes met his. Both were filled with affection and sympathy.
“Angel, look, “ Spike began. “ ‘M not offering myself up as your soddin’ marital aid, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you can’t be with your bird like this all the time.”
“Angel, look at me, “ Buffy commanded. “Thank you, for being willing to do this for me. It’s still the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, Spike’s lips on me, so not high on the wish list…”
“Oi, Slayer! I’ll have you know my lips’re highly sought after on two continents,” Spike interjected indignantly.
“Yeah whatever, anyways…it’s you I love, Angel. Not your body, but you. This,” she gestured expansively, encompassing their nude bodies, “ is wonderful. I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy it. But, it’s not what I love about you. I feel in love with you before we ever got groiny. So, if we can’t, it’s not so big a deal.”
“Looks awfully big to me, Slayer, “ Spike mused, glancing down at the now soft organ that lay between his borrowed legs.
“Spike, you’re a pig, “ she replied without heat.
“Oink bloody oink, Slayer, “ he returned, giving her a kiss on her nose.
“Okay, okay, you two,” Angel smiled tiredly. “I got it. No more brooding. Spike, I just…this was…”
“Don’t hurt yerself, Angel. I got it. Let’s just call us even now. You’ve been with mine and I’ve been with yours. Din’t do this outta the goodness of my unbeating heart, you know. Big Bad here, “ Spike grumbled.
“Right,” Angel returned solemnly. “I understand completely. At any rate, we only have a little while until we switch back.”
“Finally,” Spike sighed dramatically. “Not that I didn’t enjoy myself, but I’d rather have my own luscious body back. Draggin’ this fat arse around is work, Peaches. Don’t know how you do it.”
“Spike!”
The End
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no subject
on 2007-01-02 02:46 pm (UTC)