Here are the first eleven.
Rating: PG13 overall (I think)
Spoilers: Spike is chipped, that's about it. Oh, and minor references to series 2 events. If you see anything else let me know.
For: Sunday 100 challenge. Tarot.
Xander studied the Tarot handbook in awe:
A new phase, a new path, expanding horizons, beginning an adventure. Heading into the unknown.
It fitted perfectly.
Living in the moment, doing the unexpected, acting on impulse, feeling uninhibited.
Fitted like a glove.
Accepting your choices, taking the 'foolish' path, taking a 'crazy' chance, trusting your heart's desire. Being true to yourself.
What's so wrong with being a Fool?
Trusting the flow, staying open, letting go of worry and fear, living in joy, recapturing innocence, believing.
Feeling protected and loved.
That's the best part of his new relationship... with Spike.
The Magician was the last resort. He was expensive and dangerous and highly unstable. But worse, he was mischievous, often following the letter of the request instead of the intent.
So Spike was careful: spent days rewording, reworking, until he knew exactly what he was going to ask for. Because this time he couldn't screw up. This time he had to get it right.
Last time he'd wanted rid of the chip and he'd ended up with a soul. This time he was taking no chances. He had to claim the boy before his Sire arrived and stole him away.
The High Priestess
She'd known it, from the second he was conceived. She'd worked it out once, when Spike was out hunting and she'd sent one of the minions out for a perpetual calendar. Worked back from the day she'd first seen him, right back to the time of his birth, and then further, remembering the dreams of chocolate-colored kittens, of puppies who made her Spike smile and laugh and forget her. And she'd been afraid, for a little while, until the stars sang to her of another love, another country, and a White Knight who would save her Sweet William from himself.
He didn't know why he'd kept the deck after Dru had ditched him.
He certainly couldn't read them like she could.
But he liked to look at them sometimes and see if he could identify people he knew.
This was one of his favorites, though it hurt to remember the hole she left in his heart.
Joyce had been like a mother to him, like a mother to all of them, and he missed her fiercely.
A key turned in the lock and Spike slid the card into his pocket.
This relationship was too new for shared pain.
Giles had seen it coming with all the inevitability of a train wreck, but he still hadn't been anywhere near ready for the night they turned up on his doorstep, waking him to hand him a bottle of his favorite single malt.
They wanted his blessing.
Oh, they'd made no secret of the fact that his disapproval wouldn't sway them from their path, but they respected him, they said, thought of him as the father figure of the group, and they wanted to do this right.
Spike respected him. Xander called him Dad.
The single malt was gone before breakfast.
Willow wanted to know everything. Why? How? When? Where?
She picked over every detail, each response bringing new questions.
Xander answered as honestly as he could, certain this was her reaction to being on the outside of a best friend's secret.
Spike offered to fill in a questionnaire so she wouldn't have to take notes.
She studied rituals and ceremonies, traditions and ancient rites, and every path led back to the same beginning.
Until he was 'officially' bitten by his very own vampire, the local demon magnet was broadcasting come-eat-me vibes on every available frequency.
Spike needed his bite back.
They loved before they ever shared a touch not born of anger.
Each denied, for his own reason, the involvement of his heart.
Even when that touch grew gentle and evolved into caress,
Still they kept, each one, their silence; clutched their love unto their chest.
The stolen moments, hid from friend and foe alike, encouraged kinship,
Formed a bond, a union, no one else could put aside.
And then in battle, in a graveyard, just outside that crypt, there came
The outcry of an angry lover, "Touch my Pet again and die!"
Later, words of love, exchanged:
It had carried him, triumphant, into Sunnydale, his dark princess at his side.
And it had carried him out again, Slayer nipping at his heels, his princess unconscious on the seat beside him.
And down through Mexico, into Brazil, where she had spit in his face and cast him aside.
Then north, then south, then north again, still his chariot, a little worn around the edges but still his.
Until the Initiative got him and the cops impounded it then lost it.
And now his bright, determined, loving, boy had given it back to him.
Xander had found his Desoto!
Buffy was... stunned. The few seconds she stood there openmouthed gave them time to straighten clothing, refasten flies, and brace for the explosion.
"What? You... Spike? Xander?!"
Mr Pointy was waved about with a menacing air as she stood between them and the door.
"What the hell is going on here? Xander, what's wrong with you? Is it a spell? Did Willow mess up again?"
"No, Buffy, we're in love. Have been for a while, actually. It just never seemed the time to tell you."
And the strong one stands there, her anchor to the normal world gone... with Spike.
Cordelia always opens the office mail, which means she gets to read the invitation first.
To the Master of the House of Aurelius, a request:
William the Bloody, of the House of Aurelius,
Wishes to Claim the Most Treasured Gift as Consort,
With rites and ceremony as befits such an occasion,
To be performed, as tradition demands, by the Master of the House.
Cordelia is amused when Angel explains who, and what, and how. And then she starts planning her packing. Her hermit-like boss in robes, joining Spike and Xander in vampiric marriage, is something she just has to see.
The Wheel of Fortune
Xander had always known, in some bound, gagged and locked in a dark basement part of his mind, that he was maybe not totally 100 percent heterosexual. He'd hidden it well, denied it, chased every strong woman he met in the hopes that they would claim him and stop him from wandering down that other path. But the faster he ran after them, the less he wanted to catch them, and finally he'd decided to give the wheel of fortune a spin and see if it pointed him in a new direction.
Who knew it would point him at Spike?
Now I'm going to bed in the hopes that I'll dream the other eleven.