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JAG'd and Spiked II

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Summary: Spike has unexpected visitors. In response to a quote by James Marsters. W/S, H/M

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > JAGspikedluvFR1512,906021,62318 May 0318 May 03Yes
Title: JAG’d and Spiked II (Sequel to ‘JAG’d and Spiked’) (1/1)

Author: Spikedluv

Rating: PG13 (for language mostly, if you can watch the show, you can read this!)

Pairing: Willow/Spike and Harm/Mac

Spoilers: None, really, though Dawn exists, so season 5 to be safe.

Summary: Spike receives some unexpected, and unwelcome, visitors.

Notes: JAG’d and Spiked was supposed to be a one-off, but you know me, I couldn’t resist a sequel!

Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.


Distribution: The Seduction of Spike, Soulmates, Willow’s Lil’ Secret, Shades of Gray, The BatPack Archive, Wacky Witch Willow, Rapture, and Shippers United. If anyone else wants it, please take it, just let me know.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really belong to, although I wouldn’t mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? I don't own anyone from 'JAG' either, and I don't know who does! The story is mine, though.

Thanks: Amanda, beta and grasshopper extraordinaire, and to Wic, Tammy, Laurie, and Karen for the early-preview feedback!

Dedication: To James, of course!!

But isn't that annoying for him as an actor, working on a series that mainstream audiences find hard to take seriously? He shrugs off the stigma, believing that viewers have the intelligence to decide for themselves. "I think that that's the beautiful thing about the name of the show. Joss is such a rebel! He is daring you to be stupid not to check it out when he called it Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You know? I'm serious! Unless you have an open mind, go watch Jag!"

From The Spike Who Loved Me
an interview of James Marsters by Jayne Dearsley
for SFX #77, April 2001


Spike jerked awake and sat up, looking around his crypt. He had been sleeping on the hard stone slab of the tomb that served as his bed when something woke him. He thought he’d heard a thud from just outside the door, but all was quiet now. However...he did notice a heartbeat. That was strange. It was almost dawn, and people usually weren’t up and about at this hour. Probably a drunk.

There! A thump! And another heartbeat. And...voices? Spike strained to hear what was going on just outside his front door, as he slid off of the tomb and picked up his jeans, slipping into them. Didn’t want to be caught naked, just in case.

“Uh!” Spike heard a grunt, and then a male voice hissed, “Ow!” just after Spike heard the thump. “Your elbow...,”

“Sorry, I just...,” a female voice spoke softly.

“Get off of me,” the male voice interrupted. “And watch your knee!” There was a moment of silence. “Why aren’t you moving?”

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know. Can’t see much from down here.”

“Oh, sorry.” Spike heard someone scrambling to their feet.

“Hey, knees!”

“Sorry. Hand up?” the female offered.

“Thanks,” the male voice responded wryly.

“Okay,” the female voice was sounding a little stronger now. “Where are we?”

“Well, at a guess, I’d say...cemetery?”

“Very funny. I can see that it’s a cemetery! But where?” There was silence and Spike made his way quietly to the front door.

“Well,” the male finally spoke again, “this notice says ‘no trespassing by order of the Sunnydale Town Council’.”

“Sunnydale?” the female voice sounded disbelieving. “Sunnydale? You brought us to *Sunnydale*?”

“Hey, why are you blaming me? I didn’t take us *anywhere*!”

“Who was it that said ‘I wish I was anywhere but here right now, even Sunnydale would be better than this’?” the woman sounded irate.

“Uh, well, yeah, I did say that. But you can’t possibly believe that a wish brought us here!”

“Well, we’re here, aren’t we?”

“Seems so, but there must be some other explanation.”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Spike threw the door open and looked at the two people at his door. “Can’t a bloke get a decent day’s sleep around here?”

“Spike?” the man almost squealed.

“I told you!” The woman slapped the man’s arm.


“Oh, bugger! What are *you* two doing here?”


“It’s Harm’s fault!” Mac pointed at the tall man standing beside her.

“It is not!” Harm denied all culpability.

“Is too!”

“Is not.”

“Oh, sod this!” Spike shut the door and turned back towards his bed. There was a tentative knock on the door. “Go away!” Spike yelled. “Sleeping vampire, do not disturb!”

‘I have to be dreaming,’ he said to himself. “But why in hell would I dream about *them*?” he wondered aloud.

“Uh, Spike?” Spike froze when he heard the door open and Mac’s tentative voice.

“Go ‘way.” He climbed onto the tomb and lay down.

“Can we come in?” she asked.

“No. Go ‘way.”

“Uh, please? We really need to figure out why we’re here and, well, so far you’re the only person, er, vampire, we’ve met that we recognize.”

“So? I’m the only person, er, vamp, that you’ve met. Go meet someone else.”

“Hey,” Mac whispered to Harm. “He’s acting all snarky and mean, just like on the show. Do you think we could be dreaming?”

“I’m evil,” Spike said, “not ‘snarky and mean’, and yes, you’re dreaming, so go away! Uh, hey,” Spike had a sudden thought and sat up. “What do you mean ‘show’? You’re the ones on a show, and I’m the one dreaming, and in that case, I don’t like this dream and I want it to *stop*!” he yelled at the ceiling of his crypt.

When he looked back down, Mac and Harm were still standing in his open door.

“Oh...sod all!” Spike rolled over onto his stomach and covered his head with his hands. He heard Mac and Harm move into the crypt and close the door behind them. “I said, go ‘way,” Spike said, but his voice wasn’t nearly as certain. He wondered what in bloody hell was going on.

“We’ll just wait here until you wake up,” Mac suggested. “On the single chair you’ve got in here.” She looked around.

“Oh, hey!” Harm pointed to the corner. “Beanbag chairs.”

“Oh, bugger,” Spike moaned. Why wouldn’t they just go away? He climbed off of his tomb and rummaged through his duster pocket. When he found what he was looking for, he stepped outside. He’d have to hurry, the sun was almost up.

He dialed the phone in his hand, and then stuck it against his ear, holding it in place with his shoulder. While it rang, he lit a cigarette and drew on it deeply.

“Red!” he almost cried when the machine finally picked up. “Get over here, now. Please. Something I gotta show you. And hurry,” he almost whimpered. He stayed outside long enough to finish his cigarette, and then slipped inside when the sun started to rise. Although, he had given serious consideration to staying right where he was.


“Uh, where’d you go?” Mac asked, when Spike finally returned.

“Phone call,” he replied shortly. He looked at his two visitors. Mac was perched on the edge of his one chair, her hat in her hand, her legs together in a ladylike manner, her skirt pulled down as far as it would go. Harm was lounging on the two beanbag chairs, his hat sitting on the stomach of his white uniform, his arms folded behind his head.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Spike said sarcastically. He stuck the phone back in his pocket and lay down on the tomb. He closed his eyes and hoped Willow got here soon.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Mac hissed at Harm.

“Think of what?”

“Phone! You’ve got a cell phone, call someone!” Mac replied.

“Call who? We don’t even know where we are!”

“Just try it, see if it works,” Mac prodded.

“Oh, fine.” Harm struggled out of the beanbag chairs, finally accepting a hand from Mac, and stomped towards the door. He pulled it open wide and prepared to walk out into the sunlight.

“Hey! Bloody hell, mate, watch the sun!” Spike yelled, as he rolled off of the tomb. “Close the bleedin’ door!”

“Oh, sorry,” Harm said, quickly stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind him. Spike stood up and walked to the back of the crypt where he could hide in the shadows. He was shaking from his near brush with death. He’d almost been dusted. In his own home!

Well, that often happened when the Slayer came to visit, but these...strangers! Who had invaded his home! And made themselves comfortable on *his* chair and Harris’ bleedin’ beanbag chairs. Told the stupid git not to leave them here! He wanted to cry. These people were driving him nuts, and they’d only been here for...oh, hell, only thirty minutes!

What was he going to do with them in here all day? Please hurry, Red! He crouched down, his back against the wall, and held his head in his hands. He was getting a headache.


An hour later, a breathless Willow knocked on the door to Spike’s crypt, and then pushed it open a crack until she could squeeze through. Spike, who had recognized her heartbeat, was waiting for her by the door. He scooped her up into a big hug and buried his face in her neck.

“Thank hell you’re here!” he cried.

“Hey, Harm.” Mac kicked Harm’s leg to get his attention.

“What?” He opened bleary eyes and looked up at Mac.

“Isn’t that...?” She pointed at the redhead in Spike’s arms.

“Willow?” Harm breathed.

“Uh, Spike.” Willow’s arms were trapped at her side and her feet dangled off of the ground. “Spike, need to breathe,” she got out, her voice strangled.

“Oh, sorry,” Spike loosened his grip, but refused to let her go.

“Uh, Spike, what’s going on?” she asked.

“Them!” Spike turned his body so that Willow could see his two visitors. Mac and Harm both waved.

“Uh, hi.” Willow waved her hand from down by her leg. “Spike, can you put me down?”

“No!” he cried. “Can you make them go away?” he whined.

“Uh, I thought you liked watching ‘JAG’,” Willow said.

“I do!” Spike groaned. “But these people...they woke me up, and then *he* tried to burn me!”

“We didn’t do it on purpose,” Mac said.

“What do you mean?” Harm asked, sitting up.

“Mean about what?” Willow asked.

“About the, he likes watching ‘JAG’,” Harm clarified.

“Oh, well,” Willow explained from her position, “it’s a television show, about the Judge Advocate General’s office and the lawyers that work there, including yourselves.” She tried to point at them.

“Wait, *we’re* not a television show!” Harm said, as he struggled out of the beanbag chairs once more. “*You’re* a television show!”

“What’s he talking about?” Willow whispered to Spike.

“I don’t know,” he moaned. “Can you just make them go away?”

“How’d they get here?”

“I don’t know. I think *he* made a wish!” Spike morphed and growled at the man in question.

“I didn’t...well, I did...but there’s no way my wish brought us here. Wherever here is.”

“Then how do you think we got here?” Mac resumed her earlier, forgotten argument.

“Well...I just...I don’t know!” Harm retorted. “But there has to be a logical explanation.”

“Please,” Spike whimpered in Willow’s ear. The feel of his lips and breath on her ear almost made Willow forget what she was there for.

“Please what?” she asked breathlessly, as she felt tingles in her belly.

“Get rid of them, what else?” Spike yelled, and then caught scent of Willow’s arousal. “Of course, once we’re alone,” he recovered quickly and smirked down at her, “we can do anything you want.”

“Uh, maybe you’d better let me go,” Willow said. “I can’t do much from here.” She kicked her feet a little.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Spike said, parts of him recovering *very* quickly.

“Do you want to get rid of them?” Willow arched an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” Spike pouted. Now he wanted to do other stuff. But, he guessed he couldn’t do the other stuff with them still there, so, first things first. He set Willow on her feet, but kept hold of her hand, kind of like a security blanket.

The demon raged. Okay, not like a security blanket. More like, to force her to do his bidding! Yeah, that’s it. The demon rolled over and purred, thinking of all the things he could make Willow do to him, er, for him.


“So, let me get this straight,” Willow said. She and Spike were sitting on the tomb he usually slept on. Her hand was held tightly between his two and her legs were swinging, her heels kicking into the side of the tomb as she thought. “You were in the office, arguing about, well, your relationship...”

“We don’t have a relationship,” Mac insisted quietly.

“That’s the whole point!” Harm yelled.

Willow stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. The two visitors stopped their arguing and all three individuals in the crypt with her turned to look at her in surprise. “Stop arguing! Goddess. Now, the fact of the matter is, you both love each other, so why *aren’t* you in a relationship?”

Neither one responded.

“Well? What’s the problem?” Willow prodded.

“One of us would have to leave JAG,” Harm finally said.

“And neither one of you wants to do that?” Willow nodded in understanding. “Well, what if no one knew about your relationship?” she asked.

They both just stared at her blankly.

“I think they need more of an explanation.” Spike nudged Willow’s leg with his.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Willow leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially.

“You want us to lie?” Mac asked. “We can’t do that!”

“You wouldn’t be lying, exactly,” Willow hedged. “Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?” She smiled brilliantly.

“Yeah, but that’s with...,” Harm began.

“Enough!” Spike slid from the tomb and yelled. “Go home. Snog. Shag. Do whatever it takes to be happy. Just don’t come back here, okay?”

Everyone stared at him in shocked surprise.

“What?” he asked, staring them all down. Willow just smiled.

“What he said,” she agreed with a nod.

“Yeah?” Spike looked at her, surprised that she had agreed with him.

“Yeah.” She shrugged and blushed. Spike leaned towards her, and Mac and Harm held their breaths. Would they? Spike froze, and they both groaned. Both Willow and Spike turned their heads to look at them.

“What?” they both asked.

“Nothing,” Mac and Harm quickly replied.

“Get rid of them,” Spike whispered huskily. Willow blushed.

“Okay,” she said, “where were we? Oh, yeah, you were arguing about your relationship and Harm made a wish.”

“Oh, please, you can’t seriously...”

Willow held her hand up for silence. “Wishes are very powerful,” she said simply. “Okay,” she continued, slapping her hand against her thigh, “you need to kiss, and then Harm makes a wish for you to go home.” Mac and Harm just stared at her, their mouths dropped open in disbelief.

“What?” Willow asked them.

“Uh, why do we have to kiss?” Mac asked, swallowing hard.

“Because, when Harm made the wish before, there were strong emotions swirling around you,” Willow waved her hand about. “You need strong emotions now, so he can wish you back.”

“Uh, can’t we just...argue some more?” Harm suggested.

“Sure!” Willow nodded. “Go ahead, argue.”

Mac and Harm just stared at each other. “ big jerk,” Mac said without any heat.

“Who’re you calling a big jerk?” Harm asked softly.

“See? You can’t argue now. You have to build up to it. And we don’t have time for that...”

“Why not?” Mac asked. “We don’t have to leave right this second.” She glanced at Harm, who was staring at her. “Just give me a couple of minutes and I'm sure he'll do something to piss me off.”


“Yes, you do!” Spike insisted.

“Yeah, actually, you, uh, do,” Willow agreed.

“Why?” Harm asked.

“Well, uh...” Willow blushed. “There’s a time limit on these things!” she lied. “If you stay too long you might not be able to go back at all.”

“Good one,” Spike whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Cor, he couldn’t wait for these people to leave! He had a witch he wanted to snog.

“Oh, god!” Mac stood up quickly. “Come on!” she held her hand down to Harm to help him out of the beanbag chairs again. Harm reached up and grabbed her hand, and pulled her down on top of him.

“Harm!” she squealed.

“Shut up,” he replied softly. He pulled her head down to his and kissed her. Mac stiffened, and then melted into the kiss, letting her body flow into his. Harm placed one hand at the back of her head, the other around her back, and pressed her more firmly against him.

“Wow,” Willow said.

“Bloody hell!” Spike cried, scenting Willow’s increased arousal. “I wish they were bleeding gone already!” he yelled.


“What just happened?” Willow waved her hands to dispel the smoke so she could breathe.

“I don’t know,” Spike said, waving his hands to dispel the smoke so he could see.

When the smoke cleared, they looked over at the beanbag chairs. Which were empty.

“They’re gone,” Willow said. “You made them leave!”

“If only I’d known it was that easy before!” Spike slammed the heel of his hand into his forehead.


Harm and Mac landed in a heap on the floor of her office, right where they’d been standing when they were arguing before their trip to Sunnydale. They froze, and stared at each other. Then Mac reached between them and pulled Harm’s crushed hat out, and tossed it, and hers, onto the floor beside them.

She ran her fingers into his hair, and lowered her head and kissed him.


“Well,” Willow slid off of the tomb. “They, uh, they’re gone now. I should probably get going myself.” She backed towards the door.

Spike just smirked at her. “You’re not going anywhere, Red.” He stalked after her.

“I, um, well, I just...” Willow moaned, as Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her against him.

“Just what?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh, Goddess,” she groaned, as she ran her hands over his naked stomach and chest.

“Bloody hell, Red,” he swore, as her warm fingers made his body tighten. He placed his hands on her back, spread his fingers, and then lowered his head to hers and kissed her.


The End

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