Bedtime
“Luv?” Spike’s voice broke through her tumultuous thoughts. The little Spikes, having been discovered, were now almost trying to make as much noise as possible – or so it seemed to Willow. She was still trying – in vain – to figure out what had gone wrong with the spell. “Red?” Spike asked again, almost worriedly. The hesitation in his eyes faded to a cocky sparkle as she looked up at him wearily. “Much as I like the compliment of having 10 ickle naked mes running around, how are you planning on getting rid of them? I don’t fancy getting my ankles bit every time I take off my boots."
“I’m trying, Spike, now hush!” she pouted, and he felt guilty for teasing her. He sat down and put his arms around her waist.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He apologized. She growled and he fell silent, along with the little Spikes. Then Willow slammed the heavy book shut, making them all jump.
“I'm going to go get more supplies. I’ll make Xander come over, help you watch these guys…” She thought for a moment. “Wait, no, too many questions. Well…”
“I can deal with them!” Spike protested.
“Shut your hole!” one of them responded in his tinny little voice. “We can take care of ourselves!” Willow sighed and left, slamming the door behind her.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Spike grumbled.
“You’re bloody pathetic, in love with a human.”
“You’re one to talk, 6 inches tall and all.” He retorted. “Shut the hell up.”
Willow heard Spike growl in rage as she walked away and sighed again, quickening her pace.
“Aw, fuck, you bit me!” Spike cried out, his eyes flashing golden in anger. “Which one of you little buggers was it?!”
The tiny bleached-blonde vampires smiled smugly but remained silent. “Bloody hell.” Spike muttered, getting up to bandage his hand.
Willow grabbed her supplies and counted to three, taking deep breaths, before starting to run back. At this point, she figured, Spike would be ready to kill them. And she didn’t know if their deaths would destroy some natural order, or quite what it might do.
Spike sat down on the bed, taking a drink from the bottle of alcohol in his hand as he did so. “Bloody hell.” He repeated as he looked at his now bandaged hand. The wound had ripped the webbing between his thumb and index finger, and was quite painful.
“Hey, mate. Share an’ share alike, y’know.” One of the little ones piped up. He sighed, gave them a capful of alcohol, and hoped for the best. In the meantime, he hoped to get gloriously drunk.
Willow burst into the room, afraid she’d find smushed little Spikes, or Spike, toothpick in hand, gloating over a covering of dust. Instead she found several empty bottles – and Spikes, sleeping all around her normal-sized lover. He opened sleepy, incoherent eyes and smiled.
“’llo, luv. They’s all sleepin’.” He slurred. She laughed.
“They certainly are.” He nodded, closed his eyes, and joined them in dreamland. Willow smiled indulgently, suddenly aware that she, too, was tired. She kissed his forehead tenderly, then decided the spell could wait. After moving a few little Spikes, she curled up next to her Spike, and fell asleep as well.
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