sinandcinnamon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sinandcinnamon) wrote2006-11-17 02:24 pm
sinandcinnamon) wrote2006-11-17 02:24 pm
Entry tags:
And Hijinks Ensued, Ch 4: It Loses Something in the Translation
Title: And Hijinks Ensued (or, How Spike Lost His Mind, and Most of His Hair), Ch 4
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sinandcinnamon and xanfan27
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Pairing: Xander/Fred/George, with possible subpairings
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 eventually
Words:
A/N: This is our first combined effort written for the express purpose of launching the new fanfic archive site The Crossroads of Fan Fiction, http://www.thecroff.com
________________________________________________________________________
Xander leaned forward and snagged another of the buttery shortbread things. He'd been a little irked when they'd told him dinner would have to wait until after their meeting with this Dumbledore guy, because hey, growing boy with an appetite, you know? But they'd been immediately offered tea (and what was with English people and their tea?) and biscuits, which was some weird English-person code for cookies.
Xander had learned long ago that accepting tea was the easiest way to mellow Giles out, and so he'd jumped right in and done his usual 'add sugar until you can't tell it's tea' routine. Really, lukewarm tan Koolaid wasn't bad; you developed a taste for it. He watched as Dawn took another reluctant sip of her tea and figured he should clue her in. Later, of course. He wasn't paying much attention, but the old guy in the pink, red, and turquoise robes looked like he was saying something important, and it would be rude to interrupt with 'making tea drinkable' advice.
It wasn't really his fault he couldn't pay attention. It wasn't that he didn't want to. It's just that his body had been well trained by the California public school system, and sitting in the principal's office automatically started his body's subroutine of looking interested and nodding appropriately while his mind wandered. He couldn't help it! Judging by the glazed look on Dawn's face, she was experiencing something similar. At least Spike seemed to be following, wearing his usual 'I hate you all and wish I didn't have this chip so I could rip out your intestines and decorate my crypt with them' look. He could brief them later if the old guy was saying anything important. Xander grabbed one of the little strawberry jam sandwich cookies.
**********
“So... anything important we should know?” Xander asked casually as they followed the werewolves to the Great Hall for dinner.
Spike looked at him sharply. “Why're you askin' me? Those two are the ones who'll know the dirt on this place,” he said, lifting his chin to where Remus and Oz were walking, talking and chuckling quietly. “I don't think ol' Dumbledork left anything out, though. Pretty sure he told us all the important bits.”
Xander squirmed a little, but forged ahead. “Right. And those bits would be...?” he trailed off questioningly.
“Oh, thank god,” Dawn said. “I thought I was the only one falling asleep in there.”
Spike stopped cold and fixed them with a look that was equal parts anger and disbelief. “We are here in this bloody castle full of mojo, which was your idea, by the way, in order to save Dawn's life, and you two didn't think it was important to listen when the headmaster was warning you about the bloody vicious willow tree or the nightmare things prowling about the fucking forest? Did you listen to any of it? What could possibly have made you think... well, obviously, you didn't bloody think... I can't believe...” Spike was turning purple, which Xander hadn't even realized vampires could do. His diatribe splintered into increasingly short sentence fragments, growly noises, and curse words until he finally clenched his teeth and his fists and spun away to catch up with Oz and Remus.
Xander turned to Dawn, who was looking a little shell-shocked. He gave her a weak smile.
“So... I guess some of it was important, huh?”
***********
After dinner (and hadn't that been weird, being introduced to a bunch of kids and teenagers as “muggle guests” and then stared at and whispered about while they ate a bunch of food that had magically appeared and pretended not to notice), the three of them were shown to their quarters. The rooms so far didn't show a lot of creativity, being pretty much a continuance of the “old English castle” theme, with stone walls and antique-y looking wood furniture, but they were nice. Remus had a long but important talk with a painting in the corridor, which turned out to be a kind of door that they were supposed to give a password to.
The painting swung aside to reveal a little sitting room, with three doors leading to bedrooms. Bedrooms with stone walls and antique-y looking dressers and big beds with posts and canopies and curtains. At least they were bulky flat canopies and thick curtains, so the beds didn't end up looking like the lacy pink and white thing Willow had when she was six and still wanted to be a ballerina princess when she grew up. Xander wasn't sure he could sleep in a pretty princess bed.
Spike had finally calmed down enough to fill them in on the stuff they'd missed in Dumbledore's office. Even though he hadn't had any blood (they were keeping his vampire nature a secret from the children – for now at least), just having dinner seemed to have turned his stress dial back down from the red zone. Xander wondered if it was all the weird English food, making Spike feel at home. Stealing Giles' imported stuff had always made Spike happy too, but Xander had figured it was the stealing and grossing them out by adding it to blood part. Maybe the truth was that even Big Bads got homesick.
“So that's everything you would've already known about if you'd been listening like you should. Reckon I'll still have to keep an eye on you, since you seem to attract trouble like a magnet and you seem to sneak off and find it on your own.” Spike glared at each of them in turn, as if they had chosen to be the demon equivalent of catnip and a Hellgod's key to freedom on purpose, just to make Spike's life more difficult. “You think next time the headmaster tells you about lethally dangerous stuff you can pay attention? I didn't sign on to be your message service in addition to your babysitter.”
“I was okay during dinner,” Xander said, slightly annoyed. “We told you, it's just the whole principal's office thing. Good American kids like us can't be expected to focus in a situation like that. It goes against the laws of nature or something. And you can call him a headmaster if you want to, but Dawnie and I know a principal when we see one.” Dawn nodded supportively when Xander paused. “Your weird British code doesn't work on us, pal. You might as well give up now and start speaking English.”
Spike sputtered in frustration. “English is what us 'weird British' speak! Look at the etymology of the word – English, as in England? I know you're not that bright, but even you can't miss that connection.”
“Whoa, whoa... did you just say etymology?” Xander's eyes danced with glee. “That's it, buddy, we're revoking your uneducated punk-rock slacker club membership. You might as well start wearing tweed. We're onto you.” Dawn's coughing/snorting fit sounded suspiciously like a cover for laughter, and Spike shot her a look before returning his glare to Xander.
“Right, 'cause you're in charge of deciding who's cool? Please. I've seen lepers more popular than you. Better fashion sense, too.”
Xander was about to defend his clothing choices by comparing them to Dumbledore's eye-gougingly colorful robes (conveniently forgetting that he had at least one shirt with a similar color scheme), but there was a strange popping sound to the side. All three whirled to find an ugly little creature standing beside them.
“Fuck!” Spike exclaimed, snagging Dawn and pushing her behind them. “Thought we were supposed to be safe!”
“We were! I mean, we are. Supposed to be,” Xander replied, equally panicked. “They swore Glory couldn't get in here, that the wards would keep her out.”
“Apparently the wards don't work on her minions,” Spike scowled, looking determined. “At least there's only one this time.” After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face, and the foul little minion began to back away nervously, eyes wide. “Come to think of it,” Spike said slowly, “I think I'm due a little payback from my last visit.”
And he began to advance on the short, wrinkled thing as it backed fearfully away on stubby, spindly legs.
On to Ch 5
Authors:
sinandcinnamon and xanfan27Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter
Pairing: Xander/Fred/George, with possible subpairings
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 eventually
Words:
A/N: This is our first combined effort written for the express purpose of launching the new fanfic archive site The Crossroads of Fan Fiction, http://www.thecroff.com
________________________________________________________________________
Xander leaned forward and snagged another of the buttery shortbread things. He'd been a little irked when they'd told him dinner would have to wait until after their meeting with this Dumbledore guy, because hey, growing boy with an appetite, you know? But they'd been immediately offered tea (and what was with English people and their tea?) and biscuits, which was some weird English-person code for cookies.
Xander had learned long ago that accepting tea was the easiest way to mellow Giles out, and so he'd jumped right in and done his usual 'add sugar until you can't tell it's tea' routine. Really, lukewarm tan Koolaid wasn't bad; you developed a taste for it. He watched as Dawn took another reluctant sip of her tea and figured he should clue her in. Later, of course. He wasn't paying much attention, but the old guy in the pink, red, and turquoise robes looked like he was saying something important, and it would be rude to interrupt with 'making tea drinkable' advice.
It wasn't really his fault he couldn't pay attention. It wasn't that he didn't want to. It's just that his body had been well trained by the California public school system, and sitting in the principal's office automatically started his body's subroutine of looking interested and nodding appropriately while his mind wandered. He couldn't help it! Judging by the glazed look on Dawn's face, she was experiencing something similar. At least Spike seemed to be following, wearing his usual 'I hate you all and wish I didn't have this chip so I could rip out your intestines and decorate my crypt with them' look. He could brief them later if the old guy was saying anything important. Xander grabbed one of the little strawberry jam sandwich cookies.
**********
“So... anything important we should know?” Xander asked casually as they followed the werewolves to the Great Hall for dinner.
Spike looked at him sharply. “Why're you askin' me? Those two are the ones who'll know the dirt on this place,” he said, lifting his chin to where Remus and Oz were walking, talking and chuckling quietly. “I don't think ol' Dumbledork left anything out, though. Pretty sure he told us all the important bits.”
Xander squirmed a little, but forged ahead. “Right. And those bits would be...?” he trailed off questioningly.
“Oh, thank god,” Dawn said. “I thought I was the only one falling asleep in there.”
Spike stopped cold and fixed them with a look that was equal parts anger and disbelief. “We are here in this bloody castle full of mojo, which was your idea, by the way, in order to save Dawn's life, and you two didn't think it was important to listen when the headmaster was warning you about the bloody vicious willow tree or the nightmare things prowling about the fucking forest? Did you listen to any of it? What could possibly have made you think... well, obviously, you didn't bloody think... I can't believe...” Spike was turning purple, which Xander hadn't even realized vampires could do. His diatribe splintered into increasingly short sentence fragments, growly noises, and curse words until he finally clenched his teeth and his fists and spun away to catch up with Oz and Remus.
Xander turned to Dawn, who was looking a little shell-shocked. He gave her a weak smile.
“So... I guess some of it was important, huh?”
***********
After dinner (and hadn't that been weird, being introduced to a bunch of kids and teenagers as “muggle guests” and then stared at and whispered about while they ate a bunch of food that had magically appeared and pretended not to notice), the three of them were shown to their quarters. The rooms so far didn't show a lot of creativity, being pretty much a continuance of the “old English castle” theme, with stone walls and antique-y looking wood furniture, but they were nice. Remus had a long but important talk with a painting in the corridor, which turned out to be a kind of door that they were supposed to give a password to.
The painting swung aside to reveal a little sitting room, with three doors leading to bedrooms. Bedrooms with stone walls and antique-y looking dressers and big beds with posts and canopies and curtains. At least they were bulky flat canopies and thick curtains, so the beds didn't end up looking like the lacy pink and white thing Willow had when she was six and still wanted to be a ballerina princess when she grew up. Xander wasn't sure he could sleep in a pretty princess bed.
Spike had finally calmed down enough to fill them in on the stuff they'd missed in Dumbledore's office. Even though he hadn't had any blood (they were keeping his vampire nature a secret from the children – for now at least), just having dinner seemed to have turned his stress dial back down from the red zone. Xander wondered if it was all the weird English food, making Spike feel at home. Stealing Giles' imported stuff had always made Spike happy too, but Xander had figured it was the stealing and grossing them out by adding it to blood part. Maybe the truth was that even Big Bads got homesick.
“So that's everything you would've already known about if you'd been listening like you should. Reckon I'll still have to keep an eye on you, since you seem to attract trouble like a magnet and you seem to sneak off and find it on your own.” Spike glared at each of them in turn, as if they had chosen to be the demon equivalent of catnip and a Hellgod's key to freedom on purpose, just to make Spike's life more difficult. “You think next time the headmaster tells you about lethally dangerous stuff you can pay attention? I didn't sign on to be your message service in addition to your babysitter.”
“I was okay during dinner,” Xander said, slightly annoyed. “We told you, it's just the whole principal's office thing. Good American kids like us can't be expected to focus in a situation like that. It goes against the laws of nature or something. And you can call him a headmaster if you want to, but Dawnie and I know a principal when we see one.” Dawn nodded supportively when Xander paused. “Your weird British code doesn't work on us, pal. You might as well give up now and start speaking English.”
Spike sputtered in frustration. “English is what us 'weird British' speak! Look at the etymology of the word – English, as in England? I know you're not that bright, but even you can't miss that connection.”
“Whoa, whoa... did you just say etymology?” Xander's eyes danced with glee. “That's it, buddy, we're revoking your uneducated punk-rock slacker club membership. You might as well start wearing tweed. We're onto you.” Dawn's coughing/snorting fit sounded suspiciously like a cover for laughter, and Spike shot her a look before returning his glare to Xander.
“Right, 'cause you're in charge of deciding who's cool? Please. I've seen lepers more popular than you. Better fashion sense, too.”
Xander was about to defend his clothing choices by comparing them to Dumbledore's eye-gougingly colorful robes (conveniently forgetting that he had at least one shirt with a similar color scheme), but there was a strange popping sound to the side. All three whirled to find an ugly little creature standing beside them.
“Fuck!” Spike exclaimed, snagging Dawn and pushing her behind them. “Thought we were supposed to be safe!”
“We were! I mean, we are. Supposed to be,” Xander replied, equally panicked. “They swore Glory couldn't get in here, that the wards would keep her out.”
“Apparently the wards don't work on her minions,” Spike scowled, looking determined. “At least there's only one this time.” After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face, and the foul little minion began to back away nervously, eyes wide. “Come to think of it,” Spike said slowly, “I think I'm due a little payback from my last visit.”
And he began to advance on the short, wrinkled thing as it backed fearfully away on stubby, spindly legs.
On to Ch 5