Welcome to the Middle Ages: Part 2

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Many thanks to enigmaticblue  for the extra posting time! Here’s the next part!

-Rating: G, maybe PG-13 since there’s talk of kissing and stuff
-Medium: Fanfic
-Titles: Welcome to the Middle Ages
-Setting: S6 after “Once More with Feeling” (I have taken a brief liberty with the timeline relating to certain relationships)
-Summary: Buffy goes to a local SCA* event to stop a demon plot to turn Sunnydale into an actual kingdom and runs into Spike instead.

-Disclaimer: Neither the SCA nor the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are mine. I take no credit for any of that – just inspiration. ::grin::
-Author’s Note: The SCA is the Society for Creative Anachronism. It’s a world wide group that recreates the Middle Ages in modern times. There is a definite hierarchy within the group and, lately, a greater degree of authenticity from when it started in the 60s. For more information go to www.sca.org. As far as I know, there are no actual demons in the SCA. ;)

Previously in Part 1
“Either way, I need to follow up and get some intell. Just every time I try to ask questions, I get … stonewalled… or blank stares. I’m beginning to think this rumor is just a rumor,” she replied grumpily.


“Always possible, pet. Smoke doesn’t always mean fire… at least not on the Hellmouth.”

“Yeah, it could just mean some nasty green thing just horked up something gross,” Buffy replied flippantly.

A green scaled demon dressed in a full replica of Henry VIII’s Holbein portrait standing nearby overheard the comment. “Wasn’t me! Just because you humans don’t understand our kind, doesn’t mean you need to just assume that the steaming pile of goo next to you is from us!” he exclaimed before stomping off, the plume on his hat flouncing indignantly.

“What’s his deal…? Ew!” Buffy cried as she neatly side stepped the goo mentioned by the demon.

“Don’t worry about it, Slayer. He’s just touchy because he thinks he lost the A&S competition,” Spike explained.

“The what? No! Don’t bother. I don’t think I need to know. I do need to know if this rumor is accurate or not, though.”

Spike considered the crowd thoughtfully before arriving at a decision. “Tell you what. You wait for me in the hall while I change and I’ll introduce you around. We’re notoriously closed mouthed in this little group of ours when it comes to rumors. Havin’ me by your side, may give you just the extra something you need to get answers.”

Buffy looked at him in slight disbelief. “Why?”

“Why what? Why would I help you or why are we closed mouthed?”

“Both. It’s not like we’re friends. Not really.”

Spike winced slightly at her brutal honesty. “Ouch, Slayer. Careful with those barbs. Person could get hurt.”

“You’re not a person, Spike.”

“Look, you want my help or not?” His face held a mixed expression of exasperation and hurt.

Buffy ducked her head and examined the pattern of her brocade skirt. “As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help. I just don’t want you to think… after… you know…”

Spike inhaled sharply and peered down at her bent head. “Not about that. Okay? That was… well… I don’t know what that was, but we’ll talk about it… later. This is separate. It’s different. I can help you. You just need to trust me, yeah?”

Looking up at him, she thought a moment. Then she nodded her head briskly, just once, and agreed. “Fine. You’re right. I’ll meet you in the… hall.”

Decision made, she strode in the direction of the building she had come from a few minutes before. Spike watched her go with mixed parts of anticipation and anxiety.


As she strode off, Buffy could feel the heat of his eyes on her back. She knew the minute his attention turned elsewhere. She didn’t want to acknowledge the low hum of anticipation beginning to build in her gut, but couldn’t ignore it completely. Spike was here. Spike’s lips were here. Lips of Spike. As much as she had tried to forget about it, the kiss they shared a few nights ago kept replaying itself in her head. The heat, the passion, the sheer feeling of being consumed and yet not – she couldn’t let it go. That bugged her. To no end. It was Spike for God’s sake! Spike! Evil, undead, chipped-wonder, stupid Spike! And yet every time her mind wandered back to The Kiss, she was swamped with the maelstrom of emotions and sensations the memory alone surfaced. She didn’t know what would happen if she kissed him again. She’d just know it was a fluke. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe The Kiss was as amazing as she remembered it.

“Argh! I wish I could just kiss him again and remember exactly what it felt like! Just so I could get over it already!”

Across the list field, Lettice raised her head from the intense debate she was involved in with Willow about the magical properties of herbs mixed with wine. She tilted her head to the side and listened quietly. Then, touching the pendant hanging from a finely wrought chain around her neck, Lettice smiled slightly and murmured, “Wish granted.”

One more part to go!

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/247287.html