Secret Ingredient

Flashficathon entry, dedicated to marguerite_26. She asked for Giles/Wes/Spike. The word ‘bloody’ has to be used exactly thirteen times. Word limit 1000 approx.

Thanks to Green for kindly beta reading this for me.

Giles rubbed his forehead, gripping the phone tightly with his other hand. “So there’s no other way? The spell specifically calls for the...well, it has to be from a vampire?”

“Yes.” Wesley’s voice was tight. Giles sympathised.

“I know it’s a silly question, but Angel himself?”

“The soul is an unknown factor. We can’t take the chance that it will negate the efficacy of the...ingredient.”

“I suppose so. I still don’t quite understand why you’re calling me though. Or have you been so successful in your new career that Los Angeles is now vampire free?”

Wesley chuckled. “Not bloody likely! But can you imagine the logistics? No, we need a vampire willing to cooperate and Cordelia’s vision included a glimpse of someone she remembers very well, though I’ve not had the dubious honour of making his acquaintance. She thinks, with a little persuasion, he might fit the bill.”

Giles looked around for a wall to punch as the inescapable inevitability of it all overwhelmed him.

“So, do you have any idea where William the Bloody might be found these days?” Wesley finished, his voice determinedly bright.

Giles turned and looked at a closed door. “I think I can safely say that I have him on tap,” he said. “It’s a long story but he’s staying here with me.”

Wesley gasped and then rallied. “Is this one of those long stories that gets summarised in three words and everyone laughs?” he asked.

Giles considered that for a moment. “Possibly. Let me see. Riley, Initiative, chip.”

There was a thoughtful silence and he swore he could hear Wesley’s glasses being pushed firmly into place. “A long story. Right. Tell me when I arrive. I’m on my way.”


Spike stared up at the two men and shook his head. “Well, never thought I’d see the day when two Watchers -”

“Fired," said Giles tersely.

“Inactive. Well, yes, they bloody well fired me too," Wesley admitted.

“When two former Watchers then, stooped so low...”

“A young girl’s life is at stake, Spike, and this is no time to be bloody minded. You’ll be recompensed for your, umm, efforts and that should be sufficient incentive. I don’t expect you to care about the girl but –”

“Good. Because I don’t. An upgrade in living conditions as well as the dosh and maybe, just maybe, you’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Giles sighed. “We can talk about that later.”

“Can bloody well talk about it now.”

Giles leaned over the bath and got so close to Spike that their noses were almost touching. “I said ‘later’. What part of that do you not grasp, Spike?”

His voice was dangerous and Spike swallowed, his eyes wary. “Got to get me in a good mood, Rupert. Do you think that’s going to do it? Coming over all strong and manly?”

Giles pulled back and placed his hand strategically as he pushed himself to standing. Raising a sardonic eyebrow as his eyes locked with Spike’s he murmured, “Seems to have done the trick.”

Wesley cleared his throat and was startled when two heads turned to look at him with identical expressions of irritation. Pursing his lips he said mildly, “Perhaps we could move Mr, ah, Bloody, to a more comfortable location?”

“Spike’ll do, Wesley. No need to be formal, considering what we’re about to get up to.”

To his surprise Wesley smiled slowly rather than looking flustered. “Spike it is, then. Upstairs I think, don’t you Giles?”

“On my bed? Not bloody likely!” said Giles as he unfastened the last chain. “The spare room will do.” Spike reached out a hand and Giles took it, pulling him out of the bath with an ill tempered jerk. Spike stumbled and Giles found himself with an armful of vampire. Spike looked up at him curiously, his eyes full of a mocking amusement that faded as Giles showed no sign of releasing him. Wesley watched, his mouth suddenly dry, as Giles gripped Spike’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

“You’re hurting me you know,” Spike said through gritted teeth as Giles pushed him towards the stairs.

“Yes. I do. So?”

Spike leaned back and turned his head so that his mouth was brushing against Giles’ face. “So it’s getting you hot. Know what’s nice and cold? Me.”

Wesley had gone ahead to prepare and was out of sight. Giles forced Spike’s arm even further up his back until he winced with pain and then used his free hand to hold Spike’s face still as he kissed him, his lips hard and demanding. Pulling away, his breath catching in his throat, Giles held Spike’s gaze for a long moment before they began to move again.

Once in the bedroom Wesley held out a small pottery jar covered in ornate pictograms. “This will serve to keep the substance fresh until it’s needed. The markings form part of the spell.”

Giles released Spike who lay down on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, eyes gleaming. Wriggling himself into a comfortable position, totally at ease, he glanced down at the swell of his erection. “Don’t fight amongst yourselves, lads but get a bloody move on. Don’t want the golden moment to pass.”

Wesley frowned. “I was planning to leave you alone for a minute. Or two.  I don’t understand what you want.”

Spike smirked. “It’s simple, mate.” He glanced over at Giles. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“You’re not going to do it yourself,” said Giles in a voice stripped of emotion. “If we want you to come so we can collect your seed for the spell, we’re going to have to make you.”

Wesley gasped, his eyes wide with shock. “That’s not – I never meant - bloody hell!”

Giles never took his eyes off Spike as he answered Wesley. “I don’t think we have much choice, do we?”

Reluctantly, Wesley shook his head. “Time grows short. I need to get back to the city within the next few hours.”

“Give me the jar and wait downstairs.”

“No, I can’t let you –”

“Do as you’re bloody told!”

Wesley’s lips tightened but he held out the jar in silence. Spike waited until Giles’ fingers were wrapped around it and then said, “No. Not you. Him. Or I won’t do it.”

Wesley choked. “I beg your pardon? You expect me to jerk you off? I don’t bloody well think so!”

“Now isn’t that a laugh. Giles here can’t wait to wrap his hands around me and you’re all fluttering and shy. Am I giving you a hint as to why I want you, not him?”

“Because you’re evil? ” Wesley said with a resigned sigh.

“Give the man a bloody cigar.”

Giles turned on his heel wordlessly and left, shutting the door with a click so final that a ripple of unease passed over Spike’s face. He looked up to see Wesley rummaging through his bag. “What you after? Thought you just needed that jar thingie.”

“I do,” said Wesley. “I also need these.” He studied the bed, the handcuffs spilling out of his hand, and smiled. “I can see why Giles chose this room. The bed looks ...sturdy.”


An hour later the door opened and Spike watched Giles walk over to him, his face unreadable.

“He’s gone?”

“Some time ago, yes.”

“Come to say thanks and untie me then?”

“You got one correct.”

Spike bit his lip as Giles knelt beside him. “Well?”

Giles ran his finger along the cock Wesley hadn’t bothered to cover. Leaning forward, until his lips were close enough that his breath was a caress, he said simply, “Thank you, Spike.”

Spike bit down harder as Giles took him in his mouth. “You’re bloody welcome.”

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