sevendeadlyfun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sevendeadlyfun) wrote2007-03-17 11:59 pm
sevendeadlyfun) wrote2007-03-17 11:59 pm
Entry tags:
- ltq,
- plot,
- slash,
- spike/angel
Live The Question
Pairing: Various (Willow/Faith, Xander/Oz, Spike/Angel this chapter)
Rating: NC-17 overall (PG-13 this chapter)
Warnings: None this time
A/N: Another plotty part without any action. Things are going to start to move quickly in the next few chapters. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far. It's a long road, but I'll get there eventually!
Rating: NC-17 overall (PG-13 this chapter)
Warnings: None this time
A/N: Another plotty part without any action. Things are going to start to move quickly in the next few chapters. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far. It's a long road, but I'll get there eventually!
Oz smiled down at the brunette curled around his legs. It had been an eventful few months since he and Xander had mated. His visions, curiously painless, had increased in frequency. The whole Champions team kept hopping to rescue the helpless, often having to split into teams of two in order to keep up with the workload. Faith joked once about the benefits of tag-team slaying, and as a consequence Spike insisted on being “tagged in’ before he’d take on a mission. Willow only smiled at their antics, but it drove Angel mad. All in all, Oz figured things were going mildly okay.
Things with his mate were especially okay, verging on keen. Oz never asked what happened between the three men and Xander never volunteered any information. But, since his one night with the two vampires Xander seemed to fit inside himself neatly. No longer the sidekick, and the worry around his eyes gone, Xander was relaxed and happy. Once more the White Knight that Oz remembered from high school, he came out of his shell, radiating uncritical affection for their new family.
Angel had worried about the visions, sharing with the group the damage they had done to Cordelia. When Oz assured them that he wasn’t frying his brain acting as The Powers’ movie projector, Spike had only snorted in his inimitable fashion and opined that it was about time the Wankers That Be learned how to take care of their messenger boys. Angel simply looked relieved, and Oz knew that if there had been any risk in his visions, it would have been another burden on Angel’s soul.
Funny about souls, Oz reflected, stroking the back of Xander’s neck. Now that Angel’s was all right and tight, you’d think that the two vamps would be working on their interpersonal skills. Oz’s wolf senses told them that the only hands on those two bodies were their own, and it made him wonder. Spike and Angel were ready to spring, they were so wound. He wasn’t the only one noticing the tension between the two, and even Willow had muttered about some people needing to take a nice, long sex break. Spike had snarled at her for that, giving Angel a dark look that the dark vampire studiously ignored.
Xander found the whole situation incredibly funny. Oz had mentioned his puzzlement over their behavior, and Xander only laughed. The rich resonant sound captivated the werewolf and it had taken them several minutes of long languorous kisses before Xander could explain his amusement.
“See, it’s like this,” Xander told Oz. “They act like fifth graders, always sneaking glances at each other when they think nobody’s looking, sticking up for the other when anyone so much as drops a hint of mean, and making moon eyes at the sight of each other. But, they won’t just do the normal thing and get together. Angel’s thicker than wood about relationships, and Spike’s punishing them both. So, nothing’s going to happen unless Angel gets a clue shot or Spike decides that they’ve both paid for their crimes.”
So, the two vampires danced around each other. Willow and Faith were dancing too, but that was a quieter dance. Surprisingly, the two women seemed to have found a comfortable rhythm. Willow gave Faith a rock-solid foundation, and Faith stood steady for her witch. Nothing and no one got past Faith and her determination to protect Willow. It wasn’t just protection from things that go bump in the night, Oz knew. Faith protected Willow from herself as well, from the doubt and despair that dogged the witch’s steps.
Xander nibbled enticingly at Oz’s fingertips, and Oz traced the plump softness of Xander’s talented mouth. Yeah, everything was mildly okay. Of course, Hellmouth heritage rules dictated that right about now the doom would hit.
Willow came in, face pinched and eyes tired. Faith, strolling behind her, bellowed for Spike and Angel to get their undead asses downstairs. Xander, pulling away from his mate’s hands, sent Willow an inquisitive look. She waved him off, tapping her foot impatiently as Angel and Spike wandered down the stairs, caught up in another pointless debate. Oz wondered idly what they were bickering about now. He’d heard cowboys versus astronauts, Dracula versus The Master, and IRA versus Her Majesty’s Finest. Spike and Angel had their blatant bullshit honed to a razor sharp edge, Oz noticed with the fondness of an experienced bullshitter.
“Willow,” Angel said shortly, eyes shooting daggers at Spike.
“Oi! Red, listen to this. Angel’s got this crazy idea that…” Spike began, only to have Willow cut him off coldly.
“We’ve got bigger problems,” she said flatly.
Oz laid a hand on Xander’s shoulder, sensing his mate’s anxiety. They both cared a great deal for the redhead, and Oz knew that for all her issues, she wasn’t the panicky type. If something put that look on her face, they were in trouble.
“Spit it out, Wills,” Xander pleaded softly. “The suspense is killing me. Well, not actually killing me, in the dead way but killing me in the freaking me out way because right now? You’re not looking like this problem can be solved with a few accurate spear throws and some chocolate cake.”
Spike swiveled his head to give Xander a quizzical glance, “Chocolate cake? Don’t seem to recall using chocolate cake as a weapon.”
“Mischkail demon,” Faith informed him absently, rubbing a hand over Willow’s back. “Bitch to take down. Luckily Xander was on our team that night. Threw his Hostess Cupcake at it, and the thing started smoking and sputtering. Turns out, they’re deathly allergic to chocolate.”
“Huh,” Spike pondered. “I always wondered what in the buggerin’ hell those snack cakes were good for. Nice to know they’re lethal.”
“Not lethal,” Xander protested. “Well, not to most people. Just this one demon and it wasn’t the snack cake per se so much as the…”
“People,” Willow shrilled. “Could we get back to the crisis here? Snack cakes as weapons not so much with the important compared the fact that there’s no way I can reverse the Slayer spell.”
From mildly okay to doomsday in five minutes, Oz thought. Not quite a record breaker, though. The Buffy dying prophecy still held the all-around medal for that category. Still, a strong contender.
“Willow,” Angel approached the witch nervously, his voice low and soothing, “what do you mean that you can’t reverse the spell?”
“Well Angel, generally when someone says can’t, they mean not possible, no way in any dimension, not gonna happen,” Willow informed him irritably.
“Sure,” Spike agreed, “That’s what most people mean when they say can’t. But, “ Spike fixed Willow with a steely glare, “you ain’t most people, Red. You’re Miss Mojo, with a super scientist and a god for backup. Can’t takes on a different meaning for you.”
Willow goggled at Spike for a minute, and then her shoulders slumped. She shook her head, leaning back into Faith’s waiting arms. Spike flashed Angel a triumphant smile, and wiggled his fingers. Angel sighed, and reached into his pocket. Silently, he handed over a folded bill.
“So,” Spike continued, ignoring the warning look Faith flashed him. “How come you’re giving the Brood King a run for his money?”
“There’s no way to do it,” Willow repeated. “I can do the spell to reverse it all right. I worked it out. A few simple ingredients and a bit of Faith’s blood will call the power. But, I have to put it somewhere and there’s nowhere to put it.”
“Whoa,” Xander called, his hands forming a T. “Let’s take this step by step, okay? I’m not up on Project Doom. Why would you have to put the power anywhere? Doesn’t it belong inside the Slayer?”
Faith shook her head, taking over the explanation. “Nah, Patches, doesn’t work like that. See, Buffy coming back from the dead is what clued Willow in on how this all goes down. If the power came from an outside source, Buffy wouldn’t have been a Slayer when she was resurrected. The power’s inside, it just takes a bit of juice to get it going.”
“Like jumping a battery,” Xander asked.
“Sort of,” Faith grinned. “The spell Willow did back in Sunny D didn’t hand out the power, just woke it up in the people that had it in them already. When a Slayer dies, it isn’t the power itself that needs to go somewhere, but the…wake-up call or whatever it is that taps the next Slayer.”
“So when Buffy came back from her dirt nap, “ Xander continued, “she didn’t need the wake-up call, because she’d gotten it already. The power stayed in her body even after she died. And so what you need to do is put the other Slayer’s powers back to sleep.”
“Right,” Willow confirmed. “But, I have to have somewhere to put that force. Somewhere indestructible, because otherwise this will happen all over again. Or worse, the force will dissipate and no new Slayers will be called ever. And that Scythe is the only object I know of that is both indestructible and can hold the energy without going ka-blooie!”
“ ‘S not impossible than, “ Spike smiled. “Just need to find you an indestructible container.”
“Yeah, because that’s so easy, “ Willow scoffed. “I’ve been looking for months now. Nothing doing, Mister.”
“Why not make one,” Oz volunteered.
“What?”
“Why not make an indestructible container,” Oz asked again. “Not like it’s a weekend DIY, but if someone else did it before, can’t we do it now?”
“The power involved…and the necessary components…and make one?” Willow babbled. “Oz, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that. And even if I am, let’s not forget how bad the all-black vein-y look is on me.”
“Might clash with the blue streaks,” Spike offered.
“Watch it, Blondie,” Faith warned, her voice steady. “If she says she can’t do it, she can’t do it.”
“Not what she said, Slayer,” Spike observed. “Said she’s afraid to do it. Bit o’difference there.”
“Honey,” Faith hugged Willow close, stroking the blue streaks away from her face, “if you can do this, if you’re just afraid, you know I won’t let anything get my girl. Nothing we can’t do together. Super Witch and Slayer unite, right?”
“It’s not something you can protect me from,” Willow protested. “This is inside me, Faith. Faith…”
“Yeah, honey. I’m here,” Faith crooned, rocking Willow.
“No, not you. Well yes, you but not you you. Tara,” Willow smiled, hugging Faith tightly.
“Anyone else need that explained,” Xander asked. “ ‘Cause I just got lost in the Wonderful World of Willow.”
“And here I thought you were a happy citizen of the Wonderful World of Oz,” Spike snarked, smiling at the brunette.
“Ouch,” Oz clapped his hand to his chest. “I haven’t heard that pun since…last Thursday. Cuts deep, man.”
“Ignore him,” Xander insisted, stretching up for a swift kiss. “Spike’s incapable of resisting a bad pun.”
“ ‘S why you love me,” Spike nodded, wiggling his eyebrows.
“That and your massive…” Xander was cut off by another kiss from Oz. “What? I was going to say ego!”
“I know,” Oz tugged Xander’s hair. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh.”
“So, what about Glinda,” Spike redirected his attention to Willow.
“I had a dream, after the whole Illyria experience,” Willow told him excitedly. “She said that I needed Faith. I thought at first she meant the normal kind of faith, but after a while I figured out that she meant Faith Faith.”
“Abnormal Faith, that’s me,” the dark Slayer grinned, tapping Willow on the nose.
“So not what I meant, but we’ll save that discussion for bedtime,” Willow smiled flirtily, and returned to her explanation. “She also said something about roots that go all the way down.”
“A tree,” Xander guessed. “Nope, not a tree. Trees are pretty destructible.”
“No,” Willow confirmed. “I don’t think she meant a tree. I think she meant a place or a thing, because she said there was a hole in the world and the roots go all the way down.”
Angel and Spike tensed, visibly stiffening at Willow’s words.
“So maybe,” Willow hypothesized,” whatever I need is in this hole.”
“Guess we’re taking a trip to the Deeper Well,” Angel finally murmured, his eyes never leaving Spike.
“Least it’s not the same as last time,” Spike countered, stone-like expression not reaching his eyes.
Angel reached out a hand, and Spike took it gratefully. Angel pulled him into a crushing embrace, and they stood there, the group and the mission forgotten. Finally, Oz interrupted with a question.
“What’s the Deeper Well?”
Things with his mate were especially okay, verging on keen. Oz never asked what happened between the three men and Xander never volunteered any information. But, since his one night with the two vampires Xander seemed to fit inside himself neatly. No longer the sidekick, and the worry around his eyes gone, Xander was relaxed and happy. Once more the White Knight that Oz remembered from high school, he came out of his shell, radiating uncritical affection for their new family.
Angel had worried about the visions, sharing with the group the damage they had done to Cordelia. When Oz assured them that he wasn’t frying his brain acting as The Powers’ movie projector, Spike had only snorted in his inimitable fashion and opined that it was about time the Wankers That Be learned how to take care of their messenger boys. Angel simply looked relieved, and Oz knew that if there had been any risk in his visions, it would have been another burden on Angel’s soul.
Funny about souls, Oz reflected, stroking the back of Xander’s neck. Now that Angel’s was all right and tight, you’d think that the two vamps would be working on their interpersonal skills. Oz’s wolf senses told them that the only hands on those two bodies were their own, and it made him wonder. Spike and Angel were ready to spring, they were so wound. He wasn’t the only one noticing the tension between the two, and even Willow had muttered about some people needing to take a nice, long sex break. Spike had snarled at her for that, giving Angel a dark look that the dark vampire studiously ignored.
Xander found the whole situation incredibly funny. Oz had mentioned his puzzlement over their behavior, and Xander only laughed. The rich resonant sound captivated the werewolf and it had taken them several minutes of long languorous kisses before Xander could explain his amusement.
“See, it’s like this,” Xander told Oz. “They act like fifth graders, always sneaking glances at each other when they think nobody’s looking, sticking up for the other when anyone so much as drops a hint of mean, and making moon eyes at the sight of each other. But, they won’t just do the normal thing and get together. Angel’s thicker than wood about relationships, and Spike’s punishing them both. So, nothing’s going to happen unless Angel gets a clue shot or Spike decides that they’ve both paid for their crimes.”
So, the two vampires danced around each other. Willow and Faith were dancing too, but that was a quieter dance. Surprisingly, the two women seemed to have found a comfortable rhythm. Willow gave Faith a rock-solid foundation, and Faith stood steady for her witch. Nothing and no one got past Faith and her determination to protect Willow. It wasn’t just protection from things that go bump in the night, Oz knew. Faith protected Willow from herself as well, from the doubt and despair that dogged the witch’s steps.
Xander nibbled enticingly at Oz’s fingertips, and Oz traced the plump softness of Xander’s talented mouth. Yeah, everything was mildly okay. Of course, Hellmouth heritage rules dictated that right about now the doom would hit.
Willow came in, face pinched and eyes tired. Faith, strolling behind her, bellowed for Spike and Angel to get their undead asses downstairs. Xander, pulling away from his mate’s hands, sent Willow an inquisitive look. She waved him off, tapping her foot impatiently as Angel and Spike wandered down the stairs, caught up in another pointless debate. Oz wondered idly what they were bickering about now. He’d heard cowboys versus astronauts, Dracula versus The Master, and IRA versus Her Majesty’s Finest. Spike and Angel had their blatant bullshit honed to a razor sharp edge, Oz noticed with the fondness of an experienced bullshitter.
“Willow,” Angel said shortly, eyes shooting daggers at Spike.
“Oi! Red, listen to this. Angel’s got this crazy idea that…” Spike began, only to have Willow cut him off coldly.
“We’ve got bigger problems,” she said flatly.
Oz laid a hand on Xander’s shoulder, sensing his mate’s anxiety. They both cared a great deal for the redhead, and Oz knew that for all her issues, she wasn’t the panicky type. If something put that look on her face, they were in trouble.
“Spit it out, Wills,” Xander pleaded softly. “The suspense is killing me. Well, not actually killing me, in the dead way but killing me in the freaking me out way because right now? You’re not looking like this problem can be solved with a few accurate spear throws and some chocolate cake.”
Spike swiveled his head to give Xander a quizzical glance, “Chocolate cake? Don’t seem to recall using chocolate cake as a weapon.”
“Mischkail demon,” Faith informed him absently, rubbing a hand over Willow’s back. “Bitch to take down. Luckily Xander was on our team that night. Threw his Hostess Cupcake at it, and the thing started smoking and sputtering. Turns out, they’re deathly allergic to chocolate.”
“Huh,” Spike pondered. “I always wondered what in the buggerin’ hell those snack cakes were good for. Nice to know they’re lethal.”
“Not lethal,” Xander protested. “Well, not to most people. Just this one demon and it wasn’t the snack cake per se so much as the…”
“People,” Willow shrilled. “Could we get back to the crisis here? Snack cakes as weapons not so much with the important compared the fact that there’s no way I can reverse the Slayer spell.”
From mildly okay to doomsday in five minutes, Oz thought. Not quite a record breaker, though. The Buffy dying prophecy still held the all-around medal for that category. Still, a strong contender.
“Willow,” Angel approached the witch nervously, his voice low and soothing, “what do you mean that you can’t reverse the spell?”
“Well Angel, generally when someone says can’t, they mean not possible, no way in any dimension, not gonna happen,” Willow informed him irritably.
“Sure,” Spike agreed, “That’s what most people mean when they say can’t. But, “ Spike fixed Willow with a steely glare, “you ain’t most people, Red. You’re Miss Mojo, with a super scientist and a god for backup. Can’t takes on a different meaning for you.”
Willow goggled at Spike for a minute, and then her shoulders slumped. She shook her head, leaning back into Faith’s waiting arms. Spike flashed Angel a triumphant smile, and wiggled his fingers. Angel sighed, and reached into his pocket. Silently, he handed over a folded bill.
“So,” Spike continued, ignoring the warning look Faith flashed him. “How come you’re giving the Brood King a run for his money?”
“There’s no way to do it,” Willow repeated. “I can do the spell to reverse it all right. I worked it out. A few simple ingredients and a bit of Faith’s blood will call the power. But, I have to put it somewhere and there’s nowhere to put it.”
“Whoa,” Xander called, his hands forming a T. “Let’s take this step by step, okay? I’m not up on Project Doom. Why would you have to put the power anywhere? Doesn’t it belong inside the Slayer?”
Faith shook her head, taking over the explanation. “Nah, Patches, doesn’t work like that. See, Buffy coming back from the dead is what clued Willow in on how this all goes down. If the power came from an outside source, Buffy wouldn’t have been a Slayer when she was resurrected. The power’s inside, it just takes a bit of juice to get it going.”
“Like jumping a battery,” Xander asked.
“Sort of,” Faith grinned. “The spell Willow did back in Sunny D didn’t hand out the power, just woke it up in the people that had it in them already. When a Slayer dies, it isn’t the power itself that needs to go somewhere, but the…wake-up call or whatever it is that taps the next Slayer.”
“So when Buffy came back from her dirt nap, “ Xander continued, “she didn’t need the wake-up call, because she’d gotten it already. The power stayed in her body even after she died. And so what you need to do is put the other Slayer’s powers back to sleep.”
“Right,” Willow confirmed. “But, I have to have somewhere to put that force. Somewhere indestructible, because otherwise this will happen all over again. Or worse, the force will dissipate and no new Slayers will be called ever. And that Scythe is the only object I know of that is both indestructible and can hold the energy without going ka-blooie!”
“ ‘S not impossible than, “ Spike smiled. “Just need to find you an indestructible container.”
“Yeah, because that’s so easy, “ Willow scoffed. “I’ve been looking for months now. Nothing doing, Mister.”
“Why not make one,” Oz volunteered.
“What?”
“Why not make an indestructible container,” Oz asked again. “Not like it’s a weekend DIY, but if someone else did it before, can’t we do it now?”
“The power involved…and the necessary components…and make one?” Willow babbled. “Oz, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that. And even if I am, let’s not forget how bad the all-black vein-y look is on me.”
“Might clash with the blue streaks,” Spike offered.
“Watch it, Blondie,” Faith warned, her voice steady. “If she says she can’t do it, she can’t do it.”
“Not what she said, Slayer,” Spike observed. “Said she’s afraid to do it. Bit o’difference there.”
“Honey,” Faith hugged Willow close, stroking the blue streaks away from her face, “if you can do this, if you’re just afraid, you know I won’t let anything get my girl. Nothing we can’t do together. Super Witch and Slayer unite, right?”
“It’s not something you can protect me from,” Willow protested. “This is inside me, Faith. Faith…”
“Yeah, honey. I’m here,” Faith crooned, rocking Willow.
“No, not you. Well yes, you but not you you. Tara,” Willow smiled, hugging Faith tightly.
“Anyone else need that explained,” Xander asked. “ ‘Cause I just got lost in the Wonderful World of Willow.”
“And here I thought you were a happy citizen of the Wonderful World of Oz,” Spike snarked, smiling at the brunette.
“Ouch,” Oz clapped his hand to his chest. “I haven’t heard that pun since…last Thursday. Cuts deep, man.”
“Ignore him,” Xander insisted, stretching up for a swift kiss. “Spike’s incapable of resisting a bad pun.”
“ ‘S why you love me,” Spike nodded, wiggling his eyebrows.
“That and your massive…” Xander was cut off by another kiss from Oz. “What? I was going to say ego!”
“I know,” Oz tugged Xander’s hair. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh.”
“So, what about Glinda,” Spike redirected his attention to Willow.
“I had a dream, after the whole Illyria experience,” Willow told him excitedly. “She said that I needed Faith. I thought at first she meant the normal kind of faith, but after a while I figured out that she meant Faith Faith.”
“Abnormal Faith, that’s me,” the dark Slayer grinned, tapping Willow on the nose.
“So not what I meant, but we’ll save that discussion for bedtime,” Willow smiled flirtily, and returned to her explanation. “She also said something about roots that go all the way down.”
“A tree,” Xander guessed. “Nope, not a tree. Trees are pretty destructible.”
“No,” Willow confirmed. “I don’t think she meant a tree. I think she meant a place or a thing, because she said there was a hole in the world and the roots go all the way down.”
Angel and Spike tensed, visibly stiffening at Willow’s words.
“So maybe,” Willow hypothesized,” whatever I need is in this hole.”
“Guess we’re taking a trip to the Deeper Well,” Angel finally murmured, his eyes never leaving Spike.
“Least it’s not the same as last time,” Spike countered, stone-like expression not reaching his eyes.
Angel reached out a hand, and Spike took it gratefully. Angel pulled him into a crushing embrace, and they stood there, the group and the mission forgotten. Finally, Oz interrupted with a question.
“What’s the Deeper Well?”