Cretian Escape
folder
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
3,721
Reviews:
85
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
3,721
Reviews:
85
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Cretian Escape
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, it's all owned by Joss Wheldon and Mutant Enemy. I own nothing and don’t profit. Yada, Yada :)
Summary: (WIP) S-B My entry to the post-Chosen club. This also includes some Angel characters but none of S5. Spike is back, but then Buffy is gone. The rest is summed up in two words, Cretian Escape.
Rating: R, Will be NC-17
Chapter 1
July 12, 2004
Two men, who looked to be in their twenties, sat at a dining room table so engrossed in their argument, too wrapped up to pay attention to the result of the summons spell they had just preformed. Too engrossed with each other to pay attention to the demon they had summoned standing just five feet away. Too engrossed to pay attention to a demon that wasn’t used to being ignored. Manuel reached across a large, red scarf laid across the end of the table and thumped his partner, Peter, hard on the side the head. “You screwed it up, genius. Oh, I am so sorry. Not. I should have said…*imbecile*. Those cricket legs you ordered through ingredients-n-magic.com must have been too old. They ripped you, man. You should have used magicpluss.net instead.”
Peter’s pale complexion quickly turned red with anger; he could even feel the heat radiating from his face. “Ow, you jerk, that hurt, and no, they weren’t too old. It was entirely your fault. You put the candles in the wrong arrangement.”
“Did not.”
“Did to.”
“Did not. You got the summoning spell wrong.” Motioning to an old volume of Pestrok, Manuel glared at his friend.
“It’s you fault times ten.” After making a nanny, nanny face, Peter held up the said volume and pointed to a specific diagram. “See. Look at this. The candle closest to *you* is off by a couple of inches, and the one to your right is *way* too far away from the rest.”
“You are so full of dog poopy. I can’t believe your trying to blame me. If I wasn’t sitting down, I’d come over there and kick your butt.” To prove his point, Manuel made a show of balling his fists and holding them up as if he were going to box by the Marquis of Queensbury Rules instead of a good, nasty brawl.
Trying to look like he didn’t take his partner seriously, Peter shrugged nonchalantly, “I would fight you, but I hurt myself the other day picking up the ShoShen vessel.
A few minutes ago, Spike had abruptly appeared naked in front of the pair that summoned him. Naked or not in front of two nit wits, he was glad to escape the medallion and be back on terra firma. Escape, escape, escape. The words sounded as if sung by angels. Before he had time to ask them a question, the immature argument between them had started. Listening to the pair, who talked and acted like they could have been brothers to Andrew or Jonathan, Spike laughed and then walked around the room, getting his bearings. The house had white walls with black furniture and whatever was not black, was glass. Judging from the size of the room Spike could see, the house must be large. The two geeks must have some money. When he made it back to the idiots with their pissing and moaning, he closely looked them over. Judging from Manuel’s accent, he must be Spanish, but Peter sounded American. They looked to be in the mid-twenties and were just as lousy at magic as their taste in decorations, science fiction memorabilia placed in a display cabinet behind the table.
Finishing his inspection of them, Spike decided to get the two bickering children’s attention. Easy. He hit them with a two foot doll from the sci fi shrine. Both screamed and then screeched when they saw the club. “Bloody fantastic. I am gone for no telling how long, and the first people I see are you tossers.” Spike rolled his eyes, instead of hitting them again. Nay, he went for hitting them again. The screams were actually comforting. “Look, it was the medallion, you fucking idiots that cocked things up with your spell, not candles, books, or the fucking ozone for that matter.”
Peter stood up, holding his head and stuttering. “I can’t believe you hit us with Ka D’Argo. You can hardly find those anymore since that stupid SciFi channel cancelled Farscape.”
Spike rolled his eyes, “Shut you gob, unless I ask you a question. And then shut your gob unless you know what you are talking about.” He pointed at Peter. “You look to be about my size. Go me me some clothes. If you run, I am going to destroy all those little goodies behind glass. GO NOW!” The last two words were a lion’s roar. Then he turned his attention to Manuel. “You…Who the bloody hell are you two gits?”
Manuel wanted to just stay sitting and cowering from the blonde, but instead, he stood up so he could step back away form the furious demon before answering the question. “We are internet magic artifact dealers, and we are getting way rich, man. But we wanted a little payback on one of our competitors that screwed us on a deal.” As Manuel warmed up to the subject, he started relaxing. “So we bought this medallion from one of our sources for artifacts. He wouldn’t say where he got the medallion, but he did say it would summon this powerful warrior, an Ingeas demon, that would take out our problem. So the frelling…uh…uh…frelling guy lied to us. We’re going to…”
“Enough.” Idiot couldn’t even curse properly. Spike growled in frustration until Peter made it back with some clothes. Blue jeans and a Terminator Four t-shirt. Peter shrugged, “If you haven’t seen it, T-4 was much better than T-3.” The tennis shoes were tight but would do until he could find others. As he dressed, he talked. “You bleedin’ ninnies, there was no way that medallion was going to summon an Ingeas demon. Only demon in there was me. And believe me, I should know; I’ve been in there a good long while.”
“Oh, wow. That’s so way cool.”
Manuel shoved his friend, “No, damn cool.”
“Way was a much better word because…”
A new argument broke out concerning the medallion, which reminded Spike of his time “away.” He remembered burning up in the fight against the First Evil. Unexpectedly, he ended up in the medallion which over time reconstructed him. First his body was brought from his ashes, but the burns all over his body mained, a testament of his sacrifice. So in the beginning, the pain over took any thoughts he may have had as he healed. Once healed and healthy again, Spike had what felt like all the time in the world to think. He missed his coat that had burned up, he thought with a laugh, but even more and not surprisingly, he missed Buffy. He had often dreamed about retuning to her. Those were the best dreams. However, when Spike pictured all types of scenarios of returning to his slayer, arriving via a mucked up spell wasn’t one of those possibilities. So now he was back, feet firmly planted on the ground, but the down side was he was in the company with two nit wits. “Ok, Abbot and Costello. I don’t give your bloody left nut to know who’s on first, second, or third. What I want to know is where the bloody hell I am? So someone better spill. Pronto!”
Manuel and Peter looked at each other, not sure how to answer Spike’s last question. Finally, Peter shrugged and looked back at Spike. “Greetings. Welcome to Earth.” Then he reached out to shake Spike’s hand.
“Boy, if you lay a hand on me, I’ll knock you on your arse. This is no petting zoo.” Again Spike’s growl had the pair taking another step back. “Bloody hell, I’ll have patience, which is not my strong suit, and wait to knock you out later. But for now, could you kick start your small brains and tell me where on Earth I am?”
Trying to pacify the angry demon, Manuel found his voice. “Peter’s an idiot…”
“Am not.” Peter was turning red again.
“Are to.” Manuel turned his attention back to Spike. “Anyway, you’re in a house on the outss ofs of Madrid. This is our international headquarters for our antique magical objects.” He finished with a smile while Spike didn’t buy the international headquarters rot.
Confirming the small size of his brain, Peter’s curiosity got the better of him. “And what was up with the nakedness?”
“Zip it. That’s all the share time I can take.” Spike’s eyes landed on the medallion lying on table. So he was bec because two twits wanted a powerful warrior, specifically an Ingeason, on, and they had used the medallion to do the summoning. Well, they got the powerful warrior, but he had no intention of telling this incompetent pair that they actually had conjured up Spike, William the Bloody. If he had a plan to get out of that sodding trinket from getting roasted, this certainly would not have been it. But what was a cock up for them was a stroke of bloody luck for Spike. “Right. I need to go shopping for some new clothes. So kiddies, where’s your money?”
“But we…But you are supposed to do our bidding. The book said that when we conjured you that you would do our bidding…”
Manuel quickly shut up, when Spike’s face shifted into his game face. “The book was wrong, and besides, I don’t hire out. I’m my own vamp. Now, let’s stay focused here. Money.”
After the pair opened their safe for him, Spike stepped up to Peter. “Which side?”
However, Peter had no idea what the vre wre was asking. “Which side what?”
Before the would-be conjurer knew what was coming, Spike punched him on the right side of his chin, and Peter the entrepreneur was out before he hit the ground. Spike immediately turned to Manuel. “Which side?”
“Uh…I guess the right side.”
“Good choice since I’m left handed.” With one punch, Manuel joined his friend in La La Land.
“I told you wankers that I was going to knock you out. Pfft, amateurs.” Taking the medallion, the money, one of their cars at dusk, Spike headed into Madrid to buy some essentials.
**TBC
A short chapter but this was a natural break. So what do you think? I would love some feedback.
Thanks!!
Dana
Summary: (WIP) S-B My entry to the post-Chosen club. This also includes some Angel characters but none of S5. Spike is back, but then Buffy is gone. The rest is summed up in two words, Cretian Escape.
Rating: R, Will be NC-17
Chapter 1
July 12, 2004
Two men, who looked to be in their twenties, sat at a dining room table so engrossed in their argument, too wrapped up to pay attention to the result of the summons spell they had just preformed. Too engrossed with each other to pay attention to the demon they had summoned standing just five feet away. Too engrossed to pay attention to a demon that wasn’t used to being ignored. Manuel reached across a large, red scarf laid across the end of the table and thumped his partner, Peter, hard on the side the head. “You screwed it up, genius. Oh, I am so sorry. Not. I should have said…*imbecile*. Those cricket legs you ordered through ingredients-n-magic.com must have been too old. They ripped you, man. You should have used magicpluss.net instead.”
Peter’s pale complexion quickly turned red with anger; he could even feel the heat radiating from his face. “Ow, you jerk, that hurt, and no, they weren’t too old. It was entirely your fault. You put the candles in the wrong arrangement.”
“Did not.”
“Did to.”
“Did not. You got the summoning spell wrong.” Motioning to an old volume of Pestrok, Manuel glared at his friend.
“It’s you fault times ten.” After making a nanny, nanny face, Peter held up the said volume and pointed to a specific diagram. “See. Look at this. The candle closest to *you* is off by a couple of inches, and the one to your right is *way* too far away from the rest.”
“You are so full of dog poopy. I can’t believe your trying to blame me. If I wasn’t sitting down, I’d come over there and kick your butt.” To prove his point, Manuel made a show of balling his fists and holding them up as if he were going to box by the Marquis of Queensbury Rules instead of a good, nasty brawl.
Trying to look like he didn’t take his partner seriously, Peter shrugged nonchalantly, “I would fight you, but I hurt myself the other day picking up the ShoShen vessel.
A few minutes ago, Spike had abruptly appeared naked in front of the pair that summoned him. Naked or not in front of two nit wits, he was glad to escape the medallion and be back on terra firma. Escape, escape, escape. The words sounded as if sung by angels. Before he had time to ask them a question, the immature argument between them had started. Listening to the pair, who talked and acted like they could have been brothers to Andrew or Jonathan, Spike laughed and then walked around the room, getting his bearings. The house had white walls with black furniture and whatever was not black, was glass. Judging from the size of the room Spike could see, the house must be large. The two geeks must have some money. When he made it back to the idiots with their pissing and moaning, he closely looked them over. Judging from Manuel’s accent, he must be Spanish, but Peter sounded American. They looked to be in the mid-twenties and were just as lousy at magic as their taste in decorations, science fiction memorabilia placed in a display cabinet behind the table.
Finishing his inspection of them, Spike decided to get the two bickering children’s attention. Easy. He hit them with a two foot doll from the sci fi shrine. Both screamed and then screeched when they saw the club. “Bloody fantastic. I am gone for no telling how long, and the first people I see are you tossers.” Spike rolled his eyes, instead of hitting them again. Nay, he went for hitting them again. The screams were actually comforting. “Look, it was the medallion, you fucking idiots that cocked things up with your spell, not candles, books, or the fucking ozone for that matter.”
Peter stood up, holding his head and stuttering. “I can’t believe you hit us with Ka D’Argo. You can hardly find those anymore since that stupid SciFi channel cancelled Farscape.”
Spike rolled his eyes, “Shut you gob, unless I ask you a question. And then shut your gob unless you know what you are talking about.” He pointed at Peter. “You look to be about my size. Go me me some clothes. If you run, I am going to destroy all those little goodies behind glass. GO NOW!” The last two words were a lion’s roar. Then he turned his attention to Manuel. “You…Who the bloody hell are you two gits?”
Manuel wanted to just stay sitting and cowering from the blonde, but instead, he stood up so he could step back away form the furious demon before answering the question. “We are internet magic artifact dealers, and we are getting way rich, man. But we wanted a little payback on one of our competitors that screwed us on a deal.” As Manuel warmed up to the subject, he started relaxing. “So we bought this medallion from one of our sources for artifacts. He wouldn’t say where he got the medallion, but he did say it would summon this powerful warrior, an Ingeas demon, that would take out our problem. So the frelling…uh…uh…frelling guy lied to us. We’re going to…”
“Enough.” Idiot couldn’t even curse properly. Spike growled in frustration until Peter made it back with some clothes. Blue jeans and a Terminator Four t-shirt. Peter shrugged, “If you haven’t seen it, T-4 was much better than T-3.” The tennis shoes were tight but would do until he could find others. As he dressed, he talked. “You bleedin’ ninnies, there was no way that medallion was going to summon an Ingeas demon. Only demon in there was me. And believe me, I should know; I’ve been in there a good long while.”
“Oh, wow. That’s so way cool.”
Manuel shoved his friend, “No, damn cool.”
“Way was a much better word because…”
A new argument broke out concerning the medallion, which reminded Spike of his time “away.” He remembered burning up in the fight against the First Evil. Unexpectedly, he ended up in the medallion which over time reconstructed him. First his body was brought from his ashes, but the burns all over his body mained, a testament of his sacrifice. So in the beginning, the pain over took any thoughts he may have had as he healed. Once healed and healthy again, Spike had what felt like all the time in the world to think. He missed his coat that had burned up, he thought with a laugh, but even more and not surprisingly, he missed Buffy. He had often dreamed about retuning to her. Those were the best dreams. However, when Spike pictured all types of scenarios of returning to his slayer, arriving via a mucked up spell wasn’t one of those possibilities. So now he was back, feet firmly planted on the ground, but the down side was he was in the company with two nit wits. “Ok, Abbot and Costello. I don’t give your bloody left nut to know who’s on first, second, or third. What I want to know is where the bloody hell I am? So someone better spill. Pronto!”
Manuel and Peter looked at each other, not sure how to answer Spike’s last question. Finally, Peter shrugged and looked back at Spike. “Greetings. Welcome to Earth.” Then he reached out to shake Spike’s hand.
“Boy, if you lay a hand on me, I’ll knock you on your arse. This is no petting zoo.” Again Spike’s growl had the pair taking another step back. “Bloody hell, I’ll have patience, which is not my strong suit, and wait to knock you out later. But for now, could you kick start your small brains and tell me where on Earth I am?”
Trying to pacify the angry demon, Manuel found his voice. “Peter’s an idiot…”
“Am not.” Peter was turning red again.
“Are to.” Manuel turned his attention back to Spike. “Anyway, you’re in a house on the outss ofs of Madrid. This is our international headquarters for our antique magical objects.” He finished with a smile while Spike didn’t buy the international headquarters rot.
Confirming the small size of his brain, Peter’s curiosity got the better of him. “And what was up with the nakedness?”
“Zip it. That’s all the share time I can take.” Spike’s eyes landed on the medallion lying on table. So he was bec because two twits wanted a powerful warrior, specifically an Ingeason, on, and they had used the medallion to do the summoning. Well, they got the powerful warrior, but he had no intention of telling this incompetent pair that they actually had conjured up Spike, William the Bloody. If he had a plan to get out of that sodding trinket from getting roasted, this certainly would not have been it. But what was a cock up for them was a stroke of bloody luck for Spike. “Right. I need to go shopping for some new clothes. So kiddies, where’s your money?”
“But we…But you are supposed to do our bidding. The book said that when we conjured you that you would do our bidding…”
Manuel quickly shut up, when Spike’s face shifted into his game face. “The book was wrong, and besides, I don’t hire out. I’m my own vamp. Now, let’s stay focused here. Money.”
After the pair opened their safe for him, Spike stepped up to Peter. “Which side?”
However, Peter had no idea what the vre wre was asking. “Which side what?”
Before the would-be conjurer knew what was coming, Spike punched him on the right side of his chin, and Peter the entrepreneur was out before he hit the ground. Spike immediately turned to Manuel. “Which side?”
“Uh…I guess the right side.”
“Good choice since I’m left handed.” With one punch, Manuel joined his friend in La La Land.
“I told you wankers that I was going to knock you out. Pfft, amateurs.” Taking the medallion, the money, one of their cars at dusk, Spike headed into Madrid to buy some essentials.
**TBC
A short chapter but this was a natural break. So what do you think? I would love some feedback.
Thanks!!
Dana