Pairing: Xander/Spike (don’t be fooled by the Willow beginning)
Rating: Mature Audiences – for content and themes
Summary: There was a spell and a book and then... it all pear shaped and he ended up on paper!
Spoilers: Canon is Post S7 BtVS and S5 AtS.
Warnings: M/M – if you don't like boys together, don't play here!
Harsh circumstances and difficult start as always with Daisy the muse....
He should have known… it had only been a trifle, a simple spell to get him a ‘partner’ for the afternoon - All Hallow's Eve dance, he’d only been in England two weeks when the message came via Email – but it did say ‘and friend’ on the card. There was an expectation. He 'faked it' to the newly returned Willow and new friend Arial when he visited. He promised to be there, asked to use the library and said he would be back in a couple of days.
He had indeed used the library and was in the 'Ancient texts' section as he attempted to conjure a 'friend'. Instead a flash occured when he read the strange Latin words aloud.
Suddenly it was him looking at her, who was now whole, from the book that she slammed shut in disgust and thrust back onto the shelf and took off into the night. She was free at last from her curse. And so… he was as she had been, illustrated, nude, leaning half turned against a settee in an eighteenth century boudoir, with a permanent semi smirk.
When the book was closed he could relax, fall to the floor, his sepia toned form able to rest for a time but each time the book opened he found himself back in ‘his pose’ instantly (and sometimes painfully).
And for the past eighteen months the senior girls and boys of the coven had opened the page and ‘added’ to his illustration. It was so easy to do – and the page became quite well worn as the ‘nude dude’ was admired and ‘enhanced'.
He watched sadly as his private parts were wreathed in badly drawn flowers, then strapped tight with leather by a pair of giggling wiccans and the previous ‘nipple rings’ somebody had given him were enlarged and now had a large ‘stone’ hanging on each of them. His hair had been lengthened until it was cascading down his back and over his eyes in bunches of rich curls, and he had a thick earring added. Some week or so later another student drew in a collar and the boy’s best mate had enthusiastically added in cuffs on Xander’s wrists and ankles and thick chains between them all.
It made his ‘down times’ when the book was closed humiliating. The flowers were silly but there permanently; the leather cock ring way too tight; the collar and cuffs all joined by the chains so now stretching out was no longer an option; and the nipple weights were just… well they hurt!
The final straw for Xander, however, was the tail someone added, a very long horse like one that hung from somewhere at the base of his spine, and added to that, a crudely drawn sign at his feet reading ‘ready for riding’. The bit and bridle on his face meant nothing after that and the illustration looked out at its readers with pleading eyes from that day on. If they would just rip out and burn the page...
Spike was still reeling from his loss of Angel and too many others after the Black Thorn incident. He ended up back in England and had been recuperating at the coven Willow had attended. It seemed logical – and he had a standing invitation – in itself unusual, but after the Black Thorn fight and the demise of all he loved, he had chosen to head ‘home’ and was surprised to find Willow too had returned to England (sans Kennedy – their parting company never discussed).
A vampire at a coven was unconventional to say the least, but Spike actually came to enjoy teaching ‘the bloody white hats’ a spot or two of sparring technique and occasionally had to ‘fill in’ for the staff in a couple of magic classes.
It was in just such a class that he saw *the* picture.
*Harris* it was unmistakeable – sure a little on the ‘modified by juvenile fetish’ side but strangely him! He didn't mention it to Willow, instead grabbed the book, shoved it in his duster and headed for his room – well the barn really but it was *his* space for now.
Spike was no slouch at Latin and read the spell, then knew. Knew enough not to read the spell aloud! Or he would be the one being graffiti-ed by Willow’s would be acolytes.
Under the cover of numerous bales of hay, he whispered a counter spell. After a hundred and close on fifty years he was actually quite good at magic, and his own classical studies helped no end, plus there had been lessons under Angelus...
Seconds later the illustration was gone, and a very in-full-colour, very real ex Scoobie… the ‘Slayer’s Boy’ knelt in front of him, confused and breathing hard, and with… ‘enhancements’ (as per illustration).