Season 5. Begins with
‘Spiral’ in the abandoned gas station, and goes far off-canon almost
When Dawn makes the ultimate
sacrifice to save her sister, friends, and the world, Buffy’s mind
snaps. When Buffy's friends give up hope of her ever recovering, and become
afraid that she’ll turn violent and uncontrollable, they call in the Council to help.
Fearing what the Council will do, Spike, forgotten and ignored by her
friends, steps in. Will he be able to reach the Slayer when no one else could?
Will he be able to keep her out of the hands of the Council and away
from her ‘helpful’ friends? How much heartbreak, guilt, and failure can
one girl stand before her indestructible spirit finally resigns the
fight and gives up hope?
YOU for reading and especially to those of you who take the time to
email me feedback! Love hearing from everyone!
Thanks also to Paganbaby
for taking time out of her hectic life to beta this for me! Her
thanks to Dark Heart for his suggestions, encouragement, and acting as a
sounding board when I got stuck. If not for him, this chapter would
still be languishing and floundering around in the depths of my muse's
sometimes stubborn brain.
are mine because I can't stop fiddling right up to the last moment.
Rating / Warnings:
It's new and important!!
contains a threesome, as well as girl on girl slash. I've broken this
chapter into two parts. The first part (this chapter) actually does not
contain any of the threesome or the slash, but has some plot and
character development that will be necessary for the story's plot to
this part of the chapter has no real warning on it, BUT if you have any
issue with a threesome or girl on girl slash, DO NOT READ THE SECOND
HALF. There is no plot development in the second half; it is not
necessary to the story line, it's just smutty goodness.
You have been
Content is only suitable for mature adults.
Contains explicit language, sex, adult themes, and other adult situations that
some people may find objectionable. If you are under the age of 17 or
find any of these themes objectionable – GO AWAY.
The next day …
Spike smirked as he sat back in the rocker on the porch and
propped his feet up on the railing. Buffy and Joan were in the sunny driveway in
front of him in their bikinis washing his car. He’d never seen a lovelier sight.
Two of the most beautiful women in the world, clad in bikinis, bending,
stretching, reaching, flexing, moving with all the grace and agility of Slayers
… and getting the DeSoto sparkling at the same time – it was a dream come true.
Hot cars and hot women, was there anything better?
He rarely felt left out by not being able to go into the
sun, but right this minute he did. He’d love to go out there and … well … errrr
… do some things that would be illegal to do in broad daylight in the front
“Now I know Spike loves this car more than he does
us,” Buffy whined as she leaned over the hood and swirled the sudsy sponge
across the black paint of the DeSoto.
“It seems the only plausible explanation,” Joan agreed as
she vigorously scrubbed the hub-cabs and white-walls with a scrub-brush.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” India asked, walking up the
driveway to where Joan and Buffy were working.
Joan brightened visibly as the dark-haired woman approached
them. The artist was wearing a pair of cut-off, paint-spattered, blue jean
shorts, cut really short, showing off her shapely legs. Above the shorts
she had on a snug, white, ‘Austin City Limits’ tank top that highlighted her
olive complexion. A pink string bikini top was visible beneath the light fabric
of the top. Her long hair was pulled into a high pony tail on the back of her
head, and swung freely as she walked up the drive. On her feet she had on
sparkling gold, strappy sandals, which showed off her bubble-gum pink toenails.
Buffy stood back from the newly scrubbed hood and picked up
the hose to rinse it off. “We owed Spike a reward … this was his choice,” Buffy
told India as she began rinsing the soap off. “Wash and wax the outside, and
full detailing on the inside.”
“We believe Spike loves his car more than he does us,” Joan
interjected, standing up from where she’d been working.
“Oi!” Spike called from where he was watching them from the
porch. “Don’t let the soap dry on them hub-caps, Summers.”
Buffy stiffened and tried to just breathe as his voice
grated on her spine. “God grant me patience, ‘cos if He grants me more strength,
He better send bail money along with it, 'cos I'm gonna kill that man.”
“Spike has gotten on Buffy’s last nerve. ‘Mr. Bossy-Pants’
is in danger of having Buffy’s foot shoved up his ass cross-ways,” Joan
explained to India. “I am not entirely certain his rectum would accommodate her
foot in that manner.”
India laughed and waved at Spike, who was just taking a
long draft of his beer as he enjoyed the show. The babies, she assumed, must be
down for their afternoon nap. She looked back at Buffy and Joan, who had both
gone back to washing and rinsing and scrubbing the car.
“Can I help?” the artist asked, moving over to Joan and
retrieving a large, yellow sponge from a bucket of soapy water.
Joan smiled brightly. “Yes. That would be extremely
pleasant. Would you like to work with me on the tedious, yet rewarding, task of
cleaning the tires and wheels, or with Buffy on…”
“You,” India interrupted, kicking her shoes off, flinging
them away from the ‘splash zone’, and kneeling down near Joan and the next dirty
tire to be tackled.
“Don’t forget t’ get the gravel and bits o’ rubbish outta
the treads,” Spike called to them.
Joan frowned. “I am becoming more curious about the
capacity of Spike’s rectum. Do you believe it could accommodate both Buffy’s
foot as well as my own?”
India laughed and shook her head as she leaned in close to
Joan and began scrubbing the tire. “I think ‘Mr. Bossy-Pants’ is on the fast
track to finding out,” the dark-haired woman joked.
Joan started and her unneeded breath hitched in her chest
as the end of India’s long ponytail grazed her bare shoulder. The contact sent
Joan’s sensory perceptors blasting off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
India turned to face Joan – the two women only inches apart
as they knelt on the ground by the car. For a moment, they were both frozen in
place, then they both began to lean in tentatively, each one’s eyes locked on
the other’s mouth. Tongues darted out, wetting their lips, as sensory perceptors
sibilated, sentient drives whirled, and lips tingled in anticipation. Slowly …
so slowly … they moved, as if drawn by an unseen, external force, neither
entirely sure of themselves or what would happen if they continued to yield to
In the next moment, water was raining down on them as
Buffy, who was on the other side of the DeSoto, began to rinse off the roof of
the car. Both women shrieked as the cold water hit them and jumped up from their
kneeling position behind the fender.
“Oh, God! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were…” Buffy began,
but before she could even finish the thought, Joan had picked up a bucket of
sudsy water and heaved the contents at Buffy, drowning her in the cold, soapy
water, and India had hurtled the wet sponge in her hand at the Slayer.
Buffy shrieked and retaliated with more spray from the
hose, and before long, the whole scene devolved into little more than a water
Spike smirked as he sat back and feasted on the three
beautiful, scantily clad, drenched women laughing and running around the car.
Each combatant was giving as good as they got. Time and again, the hose was
wrenched free and turned back on the original wielder of it, only to be pulled
free and turned on the next victim. Not that anyone was holding onto it all that
strongly, of course, amidst the laughter and joviality. Their giggles and
gleeful shrieks filled the air; the poor car, still partially covered with
quickly-drying soapsuds, being utterly ignored.
Spike couldn’t even bring himself to bark at them about the
suds drying on ‘his precious’ as he watched the mêlée. Despite the
abandoned ‘mission’, he was suddenly quite pleased with his choice of reward for
not killing Captain Cardboard. Quite pleased indeed.
That night …
After spending a hot, wet, exhausting, but fun afternoon in
the sun, Buffy called dibs on the upstairs shower and Joan on the downstairs,
leaving Spike last in the line to get cleaned up that night.
He opened the door to the master bedroom, still drying the
water from his hair. Droplets rained down from his still-wet curls, running over
his shoulders, and down his chest and back as he rubbed at his thick locks with
the towel. The moment he stepped into the master bedroom, however, his hands
A sudden feeling of déjà vu washed over Spike as he took in
the scene that greeted him: Buffy and Joan had … started without him. He
absently dropped the towel, his hair still dripping, as he stared at the scene
laid out before him: strong, feminine arms wrapped around supple curves; lean,
graceful legs twined around their mirror image; smooth, soft, sweat-soaked skin
slid against the same.
Buffy and Joan hadn’t done this since … well, since the eve
of their wedding – well, not to his knowledge anyway.
Spike was only slightly less surprised this time than the
first time he’d walked in on such a tableau between his two Slayers, but that
slight bit made all the difference in the world. Spike pulled the door closed
behind him gently, trying to not make a sound to interrupt the women. With his
cock suddenly rock hard, he leaned his back against the door and simply drank in
the grace and splendor of it … ok, yeah, and it was pretty hot too.
A little while earlier …
Buffy and Joan both collapsed on the big, king bed in the
master bedroom after their showers. Buffy’s skin was pink from the sun she’d
gotten during the afternoon spent washing the DeSoto and having the water fight.
Joan turned onto her side, supporting her head with one
hand, and poked a finger down on Buffy’s arm, then lifted it up, making the skin
turn white a moment, but then fade back to reddish-pink. Joan repeated the
procedure several more times in different spots, as if performing a scientific
study of the phenomenon.
Buffy turned onto her side, mirroring her twin, with her
arm bent and her head resting in her hand. “So,” she began. “You and India ….
how’s that going?”
Joan furrowed her brow slightly. “We are friends.”
“Yeah, I get that … but she … tingles your … sibalators,
Joan’s frown deepened. “There are no sibalators contained
in my strong, yet shapely, form. However, in her company, my pleasure sensors
sibilate at an inordinately rapid pace.”
“That’s what I said,” Buffy pouted.
“No. In fact, what you said is…” Joan began to argue.
Buffy raised a hand to stop her. “Here’s the point. Do you
want to … be with her?”
“I am often with India. We spend many days painting,
Buffy waved a hand again. “Do you want to BE with her …
“I am with you and Spike,” Joan pointed out, holding up her
right hand and the ring there that matched Buffy’s and Spike’s.
“I know, sweetie … but … well, if you wanted to be … ‘Aunt
Joan’ and just be with us … as our friend – as my sister, that would be okay. I
mean … if you wanted to try with India,” Buffy offered gently.
Joan blinked sudden moisture from her eyes. “You … do not
wish me to be your companion any longer?”
“No! No, no … it’s not that,” Buffy assured her, shaking
her head adamantly. “I just … well, you’ve done so much for us, I thought you
might like a chance to … you know … have a life that you choose. It
doesn’t mean we don’t love you, it’s just … well, you’ve grown and … sometimes
things change when people – or bots – grow. Maybe it’s time to, you know, test
your wings – metaphorical wings – at bit … on your own, if you wanted to,
with someone else … like India.”
Joan bit her lip and furrowed her brow as she considered
this a few moments. “I would still be part of our family?”
“Yes, always,” Buffy assured her.
“You would still love me?”
“Honey, yes, always … and Spike too … we’d both still love
you – and we’d miss you, but we thought … you deserved this chance. India really
likes you and … she’s a lovely, if rather strang… errr … eccentric, person and
so are you.”
“And if … my metaphorical wings were metaphorically
insufficient to support my metaphorical body weight, may I return to the
metaphorical nest?” Joan wondered worriedly.
Buffy laughed and nodded. “Un-metaphorically.”
Joan suddenly turned shy, her voice low and slightly
unsure. “You are my very best friend. I love you, Buffy. I would not want to do
anything to jeopardize…”
Buffy pressed a finger over her friend’s lips, silencing
her. “I love you too, Joan,” Buffy replied just as softly. “Nothing’s in
jeopardy.” Buffy slid her hand down to Joan’s shoulder as she slowly leaned in
and touched her lips to her friend’s in a gentle kiss.
When the kiss broke, Joan’s brows furrowed in worry. “I
love you and I love Spike and I love Jade and I love Will. Do you believe it is
possible for me to love India, as well? What are the size constraints on
sentient emotions such as love?” Joan wondered. “I do not wish to lead her to
believe I could love her, but then be incapable of fulfilling that promise.”
Buffy smiled and shook her head. “There are no size
constraints on love, honey,” Buffy assured her.
Joan smiled, clearly relieved. “Then, yes, I believe I
would enjoy exploring romantic opportunities with India. She’s very beautiful,
don’t you think? And intelligent and talented and amusing?”
Buffy nodded. “Very.”
“My pleasure sensors are sibilating quite rapidly with the
contemplation of such an exploration,” Joan divulged, her words coming out
breathily in the quiet room.
“Mine too,” Buffy replied in a hushed whisper. “But I have
a different exploration in mind. Could we have one more … adventure
together before you … commit to someone else?”
Joan swallowed and nodded. “I would find much satisfaction
Continued in Part 2.
If you have an issue with threesomes or girl on girl slash/femslash, STOP NOW!
Breakaway, Kelly Clarkson
Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreaming of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray (I would pray)
Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could break away
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes til' I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get onboard a fast train
Travel on a jet plane, far away (I will)
Buildings with a hundred floors
Swinging around revolving doors
Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but
Gotta keep moving on, moving on
Fly away, breakaway
I'll spread my wings
And I'll learn how to fly
Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye
I gotta take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget the place I come from
I gotta take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway, breakaway, breakaway
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