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Fifteen for Ficcing

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Summary: 15 ficlets to exercise my rusty muse.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Multiple Pairings > Ficlet Collections - OtherechoFR131610,99802612,03918 Jan 0928 Dec 09Yes

Two by Two Hands of Blue

disclaimer: Joss Whedon’s creations here.
summary: Spike discovers something life-altering after an accident while zombie fighting.
AN: for velvetwhip


He was beginning to like her having his back when fighting, and that was dangerous. She was as different form every other woman he’d been with as she could be. Hell, she was not even of this dimension. He should be helping, but all of his were dead. Spike stopped to marvel as Illyria fought the zombies surrounding her. His terrible crush on her was unfortunate.

He was trying to deny it as he had his attraction to Buffy. It was less wrong than that had been, but wrong nonetheless. Illyria was a colleague of sorts. Spike had already learned that it complicated things when you dallied where you worked.

“You staring at me when I fight is irksome.”

He smirked at her. “Well, I like to annoy you, Smurfette.”

He would have said more, but Illyria grabbed him and threw him aside with great force just as a wave of magic hit her. It was the necromancer who’d raised all the dead they’d just disposed of. He didn’t look happy. He turned his hand to Spike, and as if he were on strings, the blond vamp shot to his feet.

“Oh bugger.”

“What… where…”

That didn’t sound like Illyria. It sounded like Fred. Spike could not turn his head, but he moved his eyes. She was trying to sit up and looked very confused.

Then Spike sagged. He looked up to see the necromancer’s head rolling away from the spasming body. Connor stood behind him with a rather large ax.

“Does your father know you’re here,” Spike spat.

“You’re welcome,” Connor snapped back, looking just as annoyed.

“Spike, where am I? Where’s Wesley? The last thing I remember was the mummy dust and being sick.”

Both Spike and Connor turned in horror. That was definitely Fred. Most definitely not Illyria.

“And what in the heck am I wearing?”


“Yes, silly. What in the heck is going on? Where is everyone? Why are there dead zombies all around me?”

Connor threw down his ax and rushed in to hug her.

“Oh Connor, hi. Um…” Suddenly she twitched. “I did not give you permission to touch my person, son of vampires.”

Connor stepped back and looked at Spike. “That was weird, right? You saw that that was weird.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, still reeling from the fact that he was pretty damned sure he’d been talking to Fred and not Illyria for a moment there. “Get gone, junior. I’m taking Blue home.”

Connor nodded once as Spike grabbed Illyria’s arm and pulled her away. He tried not to be disturbed by the fact that she did not yank away like she usually did.

He watched with disturbing knowing as she acted strangely. Well, strange for Illyria. It was as if Fred were somehow bleeding through. Which was impossible because Fred’s soul had been destroyed. Yet, he’d walked in on Illyria eating tacos twice now. When he saw her not wearing her armor but a dress and had her blue-tinged hair parted and into braids, Spike finally snapped.

“What are you doing?”

“I do not know and it frightens me. Her memories are stronger. I had thought they faded over time, but they have not. She knows of Wesley and is deeply saddened.”

“She?” But Spike knew very well who. He’d seen it in Illyria’s mannerisms over the last few days, in her word choices.

“The human you called Winifred Burkle. She is in this body with me.”

Spike jerked as if he’d been slapped. He’d made his peace with losing Fred years ago. It was also quite impossible for her to be in there too. Unless somehow Illyria’s psyche had been fractured somehow by the necromancer. After all, the body she was in had been dead once.

Suddenly she twitched and threw herself to the floor in some kind of fit.


Her body was spasming. Spike grabbed her shoulders. When she blinked at him, the eyes were no longer tinged blue – they were Fred’s comforting brown.

“Fred,” he whispered.

“Spike,” she said, sitting up and throwing herself into his embrace.

He was at a complete loss. Her hair and parts of her skin were still blue. She smelled both like Fred and Illyria to him. It was odd and disconcerting.

“I got lost again.”

Spike hugged her tightly.

“It is strange being in here with you, human girl.”

Spike pulled back in fear. That had definitely been Illyria speaking.

“That’s correct, vampire. We are both within this body now.”

“Don’t call him vampire like he’s a thing. His name is Spike.”

Spike was certain his mouth was hanging open. Fred-Illyria was arguing with herself.

“Is this too weird?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, but that’s alright. Lots of things are going to be weird now, I think.”

Spike was still in shock. He did not know what had happened, how it had happened or what, if anything, he should do about it. Though, if anyone might know what was going on, Willow and Giles would probably know. The problem was they had not spoken to Spike in years and were rebuilding the Watcher’s Council in England.

“I see you are thinking, “ Illyria commented. “Are you forming a plan?”

“I think we need to figure out what happened,” Spike said. “Then go from there.”

“I died and there was nothing,” Fred said. “I don’t want to go back to being nothing.”

Spike hugged her. “We won’t let you go back to nothing.”

“No,” Illyria replied. “This one cares for you, and I care for that which he cares for. You shall not be nothing again. If I must co-inhabit this body, then it shall be endured.”

Spike pulled back to look at her, fairly certain that was the most human thing Illyria had ever done around him. He needed to find the brains, get them on this, but he would do that after he slept. The sun was rising. It was definitely a new day.

The End

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