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Tawdry Teen Lust

The Slayerettes were lounging around the Library, watching as Giles made various arcane preparations. Candles were lit, circles were made, and finally the ancient scroll which had the words to the spell they were trying to cast was produced.

"Everything ready now?"

Giles nodded a somewhat harried affirmative to Xander's question, and turned to Willow.

"Shall we begin?"

Willow nodded, slightly nervous, then as they watched, began to recite the strange Latin incantations from the scroll in front of her. They were trying to cast a spell that would forever revoke the visiting privileges of vampires who had once been invited into Buffy's and Willow's house; and of course, Cordelia's car. It was rather hit and miss though, since all such spells had been lost to antiquity, and so the one they were using had been adapted by Giles.

Unfortunately, about half-way through the complicated recital, Willow flubbed a phrase, stumbling over the unfamiliar words. She soon recovered though, finishing the spell. A brief blue glow rose out of the circle around her, most of it dissipating into the air surrounding Buffy and Cordelia; the rest shooting like fireworks through the closed library door and down the hallway...

The Factory

Spike scowled, sulking (although in a very attractive way). Bloody Angelus and Dru had vanished the previous night, saying they were going on a road trip to the neighbouring town- 'new blood' Angelus reasoned. Spike knew exactly what Angelus *really* meant though- that he and Dru would be spending 48 hours away from Spike, screwing non-stop. Spike was a little suprised Angel had wanted to go away with Dru- usually the bastard delighted in rubbing Spike's nose in the fact that he was bedding her. Luckily he didn't know Spike could walk. The wanker surely had some major vengeance coming his way soon...

Just then, an odd blue light zipped through the open bedroom door, startling Spike out of his musings.

"What the hell...?"

It hovered for a moment, as if confused. Then before he could move, it zoomed straight towards him. Spike felt a strange warmth pass through him, and then a bright flash of white light behind his eyes, as he passed out...

Meanwhile, back in the library:

"Do you think it worked?" Giles pondered, looking around a little dazedly.

Everyone seemed to be still in one piece, even though the blue light had been unexpected. Willow shook herself and stood up, out of the circle, her eyes decidedly glazed. She wandered over to Buffy and Cordelia, who were also looking rather out of it.

Ignoring the males in the room, Buffy looked at Willow, Willow looked at Cordy, Cordy looked at Buffy, Buffy looked at Willow again, and they spoke:

"I feel kinda funky...suddenly fluoro seems like a good fashion choice..."

"I wanna bleach my hair...maybe wear some really big earrings..."

"I feel like dancing with myseelff..." Willow sang.

Giles, Xander and Oz exchanged worried looks.

"Hey, are you girls alright..." Oz began.

The three girls looked up from their wordless communion. For some reason all three of them were of one mind, and all three were experiencing a bizarre craving to sing 'Rebel yell'. Exchanging glances with the other two, Willow cut off her rendition of 'Dancing with Myself', and spoke:

"Uh, yeah...we just...um...we just need some air. Come on Buffy, Cordelia..."

Buffy licked her lips, eyeing the guys uncomfortably, then both her and Cordy followed Willow; their 80's rock star radar working on overdrive, practically sprinting out the library doors.

"Oh my." Giles sighed, sitting down. "I have a feeling maybe that spell did backfire."

"Uh, G-Man," Xander said, "In that last verse, did it sound to you like Willow was saying something about 'Billy Idol'...?"

Back at the Factory:

Spike awoke, still lying on the canopied four poster bed he used to share with Dru. He felt groggy, his head spinning, and he had a sudden unholy desire to take off his shirt, and somehow procure some gold jewellery and tight leather pants...maybe quiff his hair up a bit...

*Wait! What the hell's going on? Where are these bloody stupid thoughts coming from?*

He tried to concentrate for a second, but the craving for tight leather was too strong. With a strangled curse, he leapt up off the bed and ran for Angel's room.

*Yeah!*

He thought as he rifled through the bastards wardrobe- no less than twenty-five pairs of identical black leather pants! Donning a pair, he felt immeasurably better. Something was still missing though... hmmm, no jewellery round here, but maybe he could fix his hair... Ah, yes! He tore off his shirt, leaving him naked from the waist up...that was better...he was interrupted in his thoughts by a loud crash downstairs.

*What the...?*

Momentarily ignoring the bizarre thoughts crashing round his head, he ran down the stairs.

The Library:

"Oh no!" Giles exclaimed, aghast, as he reviewed exactly what the mistakes Willow had made with the spell had done.

"What is it?" Xander and Oz asked simultaneously, both fearing the worst.

"According to this, instead of *un*inviting vampires from their *houses*, Willow's unintentionally *invited* Billy Idol into their *hearts*!"

Xander and Oz were silent for a minute, digesting this truly weird piece of information. Oz was tempted to ask Giles if magic was the only reason he burned incense in the library, but before he could ask, Xander spoke, bemused:

"But...that isn't all that bad, is it? I mean, it's not as if Billy Idol lives anywhere round here..." he trailed off as a truly hideous thought occurred to him.

Giles nodded grimly, while Oz stared wide-eyed.

"Yes Xander, I'm afraid it's true. We may have just let three lust-crazed girls out, into the arms of a vampire posessed by the essence of Billy Idol."

And all of them knew there was only one guy who came to mind when you mentioned 'vampires' and 'Billy Idol' in the same sentence...their screams were audible almost a mile away.

Moments before, on the streets of Sunnydale:

All three Slayerettes jogged down the street, driven by an unnatural homing instinct. At various points during their run from school to factory they had sung, in three part harmony, 'Sweet Sixteen', 'Cradle of Love', and 'Rebel Yell.'

Willow was really wishing she'd kept the bubblegum skirt she'd had when she was nine. Cordelia was wishing for her old 'jelly' shoes. Buffy was wishing for a boob tube, and *all* of them were wishing for a certain blonde vampire. And maybe some blue eyeshadow.

*Funny how I didn't notice how incredibly hot Spike was before* Buffy mused, then broke into the second round of 'Sweet Sixteen' that night, as they neared the Factory.

The factory:

Spike belted down the stairs, and froze, staring at the truly unforgettable scene before him. Willow, Buffy, and Cordelia stood, along with the splinters of the shattered door, and several folorn looking dustpiles on the floor, that were all that remained of the sentries. The 'Spike' part of Spike was rather glad that there'd be no witnesses to his uncharacteristically embarassing behaviour; and the part that was bringing these unfamiliar urges to the surface, screamed:

*Groupies!*

"Oh, Spi-ike...." Willow sing-songed, feeling quite unlike her usually timid self. Buffy licked her lips and grinned, a lust-filled, predatory grin. The smiles on Cordy and Willow's lips echoed it. All three of them walked slowly across the floor towards Spike, who was, by now, starting to get a little alarmed.

"Uh...Slayer?" the Spike-y part of him whispered, "What are you....doing...." his voice trailed off as he found himself being jumped by three enthusiastically horny young women.

The library:

Once the initial shock had worn off, the Watcher and two male Slayerettes were desperately trying to figure out a way to reverse the spell. Before it was too late...

They were having trouble thinking of how to do it, mainly because whenever the words 'before it's too late..' emerged in any of their minds, a freaksome and disturbing mental picture was formed (although secretly Oz thought Spike's butt looked rather cute in his version of it...until he quashed the thought, worried that the spell had effected him too...).

Finally Giles announced that he would repeat the spell, in the hope that performing it correctly would nix the effects of the previous recitation. Hurriedly, Xander and Oz helped him set things up, hoping against hope they'd finish, before it was too late.... there was that phrase again, and all three of them froze in their work for an instant, shivered, then continued.

Meanwhile...

Spike half-heartedly attempted to discourage their attentions, then gave up with a lust-filled groan, both parts of him in complete agreement, as Willow sucked on his earlobe.

All three of them giggled at the sound, then, eyes bright, abandoned their present occupations (Cordy licking at his chest, while Buffy plundered his mouth) as Willow whispered breathily:

"Wanna go someplace more... comfortable?"

Since he doubted he had a choice in the matter anyway, Spike grinned wickedly, fighting the urge to sing 'Flesh for Fantasy'. Willow and Buffy grabbed his hands, as Cordy skipped ahead of them grinning. Spike's last thought, as they threw him bodily onto the bed, clothes flying in all directions, was:

*Something strange is going on.* He thanked his lucky stars that he was a vampire, and so was neither morally obliged to prevent the three obviously posessed girls from ravishing him, nor bothered in the least by the fact that they were. *One of the perks of being a demon...* Just then he stifled a moan, as Buffy grasped his...

SELECTIVE SCENE EDITING- has been brought into effect at this point, to protect impressionable minds that may be reading this. As to what happened in this censored portion? Well, Willow, Buffy and Cordelia discovered the *other* perk of being a vampire, as well as the *real* reason Spike got his name, and they all had a damn good time doing so as well. Since this is a PG fic, I'll give you a clue as to the *other* benefit of bedding a vamp: Think Ever-Ready Bunny. Spike discovered that keeping three perpetually horny teenage girls satisfied tested even his stamina...it might even have been the death of him, if he weren't already dead. Plus a curiously kinky scene involving peanut butter, a goldfish, and the lyrics to 'Mony mony' occurred. Now, back to the action:

*Maybe it almost killed me-- but what a way to go...* Spike thought hours later, as Buffy, Willow and Cordy *finally* seemed to decide they needed some sleep, Willow pillowing her head on his chest, Buffy and Cordelia curling their bodies around his.

Back at the Library:

Giles spoke the final words of the spell, it having taken him hours to practise the pronunciation, and for the guys to set everything up amidst their disturbing thoughts (and indeed, they'd been taking 'disturbing thought breaks' every quarter hour for the last few hours).

A pinkish glow was rising from the circle, some of it settling into Xander and Oz, the rest zipping out the library door in a disturbingly familiar fashion.

"Uh oh..." Was Giles last conscious thought, along with the knowledge that maybe Xander *hadn't* looked up the proper pronunciations as stringently as he should've; as his eyes glazed, and an unnatural longing to sing 'It's not Unusual' overcame him. Then, before he knew it, he was racing out the door...

The Factory:

"Oh Spiiikke! Honey, I'm home!" Angel's voice rang out obnoxiously, and very very loudly.

*Shit, what a bloody terrible headache* Was Spike's first waking thought as he swam out of a deep sleep. Followed closely by, *What's that soft warm stuff?* He cracked an eye open, then shut it quickly.

Oh. Shit.

This was worse than the time he'd gone on a bender with Angelus a hundred years ago, and drunk from all those Opium addicts. That time he'd woken up in a paddyfield, just before dawn, with an old Chinese man licking his foot. This time, he seemed to be surrounded by three very naked Slayerettes.

*Look on the bright side, mate,* he told himself, the bright side being that, well, he was in bed with three very naked Slayerettes. He groaned again as the pain lanced through his head. Last night was coming back to him in terrible, lustfilled, full colour clarity. Especially the bit with the peanut butter...

"Spike, old boy!" Angel slammed the door open, then stood, mouth gaping, dumbfounded. Buffy, Cordelia and Willow, jerked upright in bed, woken by the noise. At that instant, a strange pinkish glow rushed through the open doorway, dissipating into Angel. His eyes rolled back in his head, but he didn't pass out. Instead he beamed widely, started to gyrate his hips and sing:

"My, my, my....Delilah..."

Spike and the Slayerettes were still frozen, staring at him. Angel winked flirtatiously, then fell forward as Giles barreled into him from behind, closely followed by Xander and Oz. Spike whispered, dumbfounded:

"But Tom Jones isn't Irish..."

That thought was soon forgotten as he realised he was the focus of three pairs of slightly confused eyes. Ignoring Angelus and the three males on the floor, he swallowed, the sight of three angry, beautiful women staring at him, arms crossed with identical 'there'd better be a *damn* good explanation for this' looks, enough to discomfit anyone. Tentatively he spoke, trying to keep a cocky grin off of his face, and failing miserably:

"Well, pets, maybe we should, uh...talk?"

So they talked, and eventually they ahem...*talked*, and all were happy.

Epilogue:

And so, the spell was removed from Spike and the girls, but, none of them could ever quite have the heart to kill each other after such an experience. Eventually they all moved to Florida and founded a commune based on the precepts of free-love.

Unfortunately, (or perhaps fortunately) no one could figure out how to reverse the spell on Angel (not that they tried very hard). He was signed to a contract to play clubs in Vegas as a Tom Jones impersonator, and was quite successful, mainly because of his uncanny ability to look good in leather pants, rather than his singing voice. Giles, Xander and Oz, became his backing-singers and groupies.

Everyone lived or un-lived, happily ever after, even Druscilla, who the author ignored, and who wasn't in this story anyway; who gave up pretending to be an insane five-year old, and wrote a bestselling book on dysfunctional relationships called: 'My Daddy and Me.' If all this sounds rather unlikely, well, what's the likelihood of 16 year old cheerleader slaying vampires, anyway?

The End

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