Wrong. In her comments to my crazy recent fic “The Island” trepkos challenged me to write a Fairy!Spike/Rupert the Bear crossover. And I’ve done it.
Rupert the Bear is a children’s cartoon strip that has been running in the ‘Daily Express’ newspaper since the 1920s. I don’t know if it’s currently running, but it certainly was as recently as 2003, and it’s hardly changed at all in all those years. Traditionally the story is told in rhyming couplets accompanying the picture frames, with a section of conventional prose following each set of pictures. I’ve followed the same style, although of course without the pictures, and I make no apologies for the quality of my couplets because they were pretty dire in the originals. Those not familiar with the cartoon strip itself may have seen Paul McCartney’s video “The Frog Song” (aka “Rupert and the Frog Chorus”).
3,600 words; rating at least R. Maybe NC-17, although I don’t think so. Read at your own risk.
Rupert and the Fairy Spike
One day in Buffy Season Six
Willow was up to magic tricks.
While researching for information
She found a spell of transformation
It seemed to offer her the chance
To fix Buffy up with a romance
And so she went to see the Slayer
Who’d never be a vampire layer.
Willow said “Hey, Buffy, I can
Turn Spike back into a man
Because I know you fancy Spike
Then you can boink him all you like
Without disapproval from Xander.
I just need mint and coriander
Then I will cast my special spell
You know that it will turn out well.”
Buffy gave in to temptation
And approved of Willow’s incantation
But although Willow’s powers are strong
Her witchy spells often go wrong.
She gathered all the herbs she’d need
Like nicotine and burba weed
Some other things to help her focus
As she went through her hocus-pocus
A crystal gem, a boiling pan,
A picture of a handsome man
For that she took from Dawnie’s room
A photo of Orlando Bloom
She knew Spike had a fine taut ass
And so, of course, had Legolas
Alas, it proved a slight distraction
As the red witch performed her action
Her thoughts had strayed to Elvish races
And fairy tales, and far-off places
The spell did make a change in Spike
But not as the Slayer would like …
In a dark crypt a figure stirred
Small and with wings; was it a bird?
Spike woke and felt something was wrong
Somehow he didn’t feel that strong
The bed seemed huge. Or had he shrunk?
Or was he merely very drunk?
Upon his back there were strange things
Had he somehow sprouted wings?
He soon discovered how to fly
But still was baffled as to why
Was it the work of man or devil?
He flew up to the upper level
He stopped in front of the TV
Amazed at what he now could see
He was reflected by the glass
From little head to little ass
“I thought I didn’t feel myself
I’ve been transformed into an elf.
And not one from ‘Lord of the Rings’;
A weedy little wimp with wings!”
He knew someone whose spells went wrong
It didn’t take him very long
To blame Willow for his new state
He clenched his tiny fists with hate
Straight to the Magic Box he flew
What spells had done, spells could undo
Alas, Anya was little help
And neither was his foe the Whelp
He thought Spike’s plight was a big joke
Spike wished that he could drain the bloke
Willow and Buffy turned up soon
Buffy was grinning like a loon
But when she saw her lover’s case
The smile was soon wiped from her face
“Willow!” she cried. “This is too scary
You’ve turned my Spike into a fairy!”
Willow was full of remorse
This didn’t help cure Spike, of course
She tried and failed to break the curse
She couldn’t seem to find reverse
How could they fix this? That’s the question
Then Anya made a smart suggestion
“The spell comes from this magic book
I think it’s worth a closer look
There might be a reversal there –
That’s strange! A picture of a bear!”
A strange and wondrous tale unfurled
The spell came from another world
A world where animals could talk
And dress in clothes, and drive, and walk
The place, it seemed, was called Nutwood
Spike thought this wasn't sounding good
A Chinese conjuror lived there
With powers quite beyond compare
The wily Oriental’s spell
In his hands would have turned out well
Willow, of course, had done it badly
And so, for Spike, it turned out sadly.
The conjuror could set things right
Buffy smiled with sheer delight
Yet Spike saw a flaw in the plan
How would they get him to this man?
Willow said she’d do a spell
Spike exclaimed, “Oh, bloody hell!
Forget your plan, you dozy cow
I know you’ll screw it up somehow.”
Spike stood firm, he would not give in
Till Xander gave an evil grin
“I’ll call up Angel on the phone
And tell him of how Spike has flown
I’m sure he’d laugh in utter glee
To hear of Fairy Spike the Wee.”
“You bastard, Harris!” Spike did swear
And gave Xander a vicious glare.
“Okay, I’ll go to see this Wiz
But not if Willow does the biz
She’d balls it up, the stupid bitch
You’d better get the other witch.”
So Buffy gave Tara a call
And told her how Spike had turned small
Tara rushed to lend a hand
And send Spike to that other land
She drew a circle on the floor
And opened up a magic door
Though Spike was scared, what could he do
But spread his wings and flutter through?
Spike emerged from the portal in the middle of a field in broad daylight. He yelled in panic and flew towards a nearby hedge as fast as he could; it only took a moment, however, for him to realise that he wasn’t catching fire.
“Phew!” he sighed, wiping his brow. “Looks like fairies don’t combust in sunlight. Unless it’s because I’m in another dimension. Red said something once about Angel going to another dimension where he could go out in the sun. Either way, I seem to be safe.”
He spoke too soon. A strange creature reared up from the hedge and seized him in a furry hand. “Look what I’ve caught, Ferdy,” the creature chortled joyfully. “A fairy. Should I pull its wings off?”
Spike squirmed in the monster’s grasp but could not free himself. He did manage to turn far enough to get a good look at his captor; an anthropomorphic fox the size of a human, standing on two legs, and wearing jeans and a T-shirt bearing the legend ‘Rupert sucks’. “Freddie sodding Fox!” he swore. “Thought you wore short trousers and a blazer.”
“What am I, twelve?” the fox replied. “Your information’s a bit out of date, fairy.”
Spike could see the sense in that. The Rupert Bear books had first appeared in the nineteen-twenties, and had been serialised as a comic strip in the ‘Daily Express’ right up to the twenty-first century, and the characters had been frozen in a time-warp as regards dress and apparent age for the whole time. If they were actually portrayals of a real alternate dimension, it was entirely feasible that, although time moved differently in that dimension, there had been some progress over more than three quarters of a century. “Let us go, mate,” Spike pleaded. “On an important mission here, ain’t I? Got to see a conjuror about a vampire.”
“Why should I care? You must have got me mixed up with that do-gooding prig Rupert Bear,” Freddie Fox grinned. “Ferdy! I’ve got a good one here.”
“Brilliant!” Ferdy exclaimed, pushing his way through the hedge to join his brother. “Do you think it will scream when we pull its wings off?”
“Only one way to find out,” Freddie grinned. “If that doesn’t work, we can always try its legs.”
“Bugger this for a game of soldiers!” Spike growled. Rage filled him, and suddenly, rather to his surprise, he vamped out. His strength increased dramatically; he was so small that he was still way under human strength, but with the proportionate strength of a vampire he was able to make some headway against Freddie’s grip. He plunged his fangs into the fox’s thumb and bit hard. Freddie yelped and released his hold. “Man bites fox,” Spike grinned, and flew away at top speed.
The two foxes chased after him. Ferdy snatched up something from the ground before beginning his pursuit, and to his horror Spike saw that it was a butterfly net. “Oh, bollocks!” he swore, and tried to gain height; however one of his wings had been crumpled in the fox’s grip, and hadn’t yet returned to its proper shape. He couldn’t get higher than about eight feet from the ground, well within the range of the net, and his flying speed was seriously reduced. The foxes were disturbingly fleet of foot, and capture and hideous death seemed to loom large in his immediate future. Only a miracle could save him.
The foxes chased our Fairy Spike
Then Rupert appeared on his bike
His trews were check, his jumper red
A chequered scarf below his head
“You leave that poor fairy alone
Or I will use my mobile phone
And PC Growler I will call
He’ll catch you, and you’ll take a fall.”
The foxes snarled at Rupert Bear
But disobey they didn’t dare
They turned around and ran away
To seek mischief another day.
Spike resumed his human face
And thanked Rupert Bear with good grace.
“Ta, mate,” Spike said unto Rupert
“Thought that I’d get bloody hurt.
Now, can you tell me where I am?
Nutwood, I guess, not Birmingham.
A Chinese Conjuror I seek
For I am not a fairy weak
I’ve been transformed by a bodged spell
I’d like it sorted. Can you tell
Me where I’ll find the Chinese guy?
My wings are knackered, I can’t fly.”
“Indeed, I’ll point you on your way
But I can’t go with you today.
I can take you to his grand-daughter
She’s waiting by that stretch of water
And she’ll take you to her grand-dad
Her chatter, though, might drive you mad.”
Spike smiled, and gladly thanked the bear
And ran his fingers through his hair
He landed on Rupert Bear’s scarf
The colours nearly made him barf
The bear then cycled off at speed
Assisting Spike in his great need
Rupert rode to the river banks
And Spike dismounted with much thanks
He thought that he would meet a kid
But she’d grown older, as girls did
Like Rupert Bear and Freddie Fox
She’d outgrown shorts and ankle socks
Her lips were full, her figure trim
Her cheongsam made that plain to him
Her hair was sleek and raven-black
And long, hanging right down her back
She was a veritable queen
He’d guess her age at seventeen
‘If only,’ Spike thought with regret
‘I wasn’t still the Slayer’s pet
Oh, and there is that other thing
I’m a fairy with a knackered wing.’
Rupert introduced Spike to Tiger-Lily, the conjuror’s grand-daughter, and then hastened away, for he was running an errand for his mother and didn’t want to be late home.
“So, fairy,” Tiger-Lily addressed him, “you wish to see my grandfather?”
“’M not really a fairy,” Spike told her. “I’m a vampire. Got changed into a fairy by a daft witch who was trying to change me into a human, but she cocked the spell up. They reckon your granddad can change me back.”
“You want to be a vampire again? Why should we help you?”
“I’m reformed,” Spike said reluctantly. “Been helping out the Slayer – you got Slayers in this world? Protecting humans from vampires and demons.” He decided not to mention the chip; in this world of sentient anthropomorphic animals who socialised with humans on an equal basis, a device that prevented him from feeding on only one sector of the population was of little relevance.
“The decision can be my grandfather’s,” Tiger-Lily said. “I will guide you to his home. Follow me.” She set off at a fast pace.
Spike couldn’t keep up with her on the wing, and was forced to land and trot after her as fast as his little legs could carry him. His pride kept him from asking for assistance at first; and then, just as he was about to give up and swallow his pride, he realised that his lowly position had certain advantages and he shut his mouth and kept on trotting.
He could see right up her cheongsam.
“So, you desire your former state
But claim to have reformed of late.
And you want back your former size
Tell me, if I grant you this prize
Will you use it for good or ill?”
The conjuror was stern and still.
“I’ve given up on human blood
I find other ways to get food
Not sure I’m good, but I’m not bad
I’m really quite a decent lad
I’ve saved the world a time or two
I will not turn my fangs on you.”
“All right,” the conjuror agreed
“For you I will perform this deed.
My services do not come free
And so I want from you a fee.
You must complete a certain task
And then I will do as you ask
My home is overrun by rats
They are too tough for normal cats
They are resistant to my spells
And warfarin-immune as well.
It is by clearing out these vermin
That the reversal you’ll be earning.”
Rats were Spike’s especial fear
As Frimfram recently made clear
Yet he wanted to impress the girl
And so said “I’ll give it a whirl”.
Into the tunnels dark and grim
Went Spike, and terror went with him
Inside the burrows, dimly lit,
The rats they scratched, the rats they bit
Rodents fought, and rodents bled
The fairy left the rodents dead
At last he cleared the vermin out
And gave a great triumphant shout
“Okay, I’ve done my part of the deal
So turn me back, so I can heal.”
“Very well, you’ve done your part
Oh fairy with a warrior’s heart
Once more human size you’ll be
With vampire strength, no more fairy.”
Spike didn’t heed the choice of words
He was thinking of the bird
He really fancied Tiger-Lily
Would trying to win her be silly?
And so, when back at five foot eight
He just said “Smashing! Thank you, mate.”
To return to Sunnydale, apparently, he had to go back to the point at which he had first entered the world of Nutwood. Spike was in no immediate hurry to do so; he wanted to explore this strange world, meet some of the other talking animals, punch Freddie and Ferdy Fox’s faces in, that sort of thing. And, especially, to woo Tiger-Lily, and perhaps stay in this dimension long-term if his advances were successful. However the conjuror pointed out to him that time ran at only one twenty-fifth of the speed in the Nutwood dimension as it did in Spike’s home, and that he had already been away from Sunnydale for weeks.
Reluctantly, therefore, Spike prepared to set off for the field in which he had appeared, guided once more by the beautiful Chinese girl. He gingerly extended his hand into the sunlight, prepared to snatch it back at the first hint of burning, but he proved to be as immune to its ill effects as he had been in fairy form. “Must be ‘cos it’s another dimension,” he muttered, and he failed to see the conjuror’s enigmatic smile.
He spent the return journey trying to chat up Tiger-Lily, but with little success. She was apparently wary of him and, although he did bring a few smiles to her face, most of his comments fell flat. Eventually they reached the area of his arrival. Spike wasn’t absolutely certain which field it was, as there were three fairly similar fields in the area that could be the one in question, and he thought of seeking out Rupert Bear to aid with the identification, but Tiger-Lily told him that he could simply try them one after the other. There were words to be spoken, but they could be repeated in each of the fields until he reached the right one and was transported home.
Spike reluctantly said goodbye and watched as she walked away, hoping that she would express some sorrow at his impending departure and give him some excuse for hanging on. No such gesture materialised, however, and so he walked into the nearest of the three fields.
Once inside he became fairly sure that it was the wrong one. The hedge didn’t quite look like the one from which Freddie Fox had emerged. He walked out into the centre of the field anyway, and spoke the magic words, and was not disappointed when they didn’t work. He set off back to the road to try the next field, walking slowly, but then a scream reached his ears and he accelerated to a desperate sprint.
He raced along the road, saw a place where a hedge had been disturbed, and burst through it. In the field beyond Tiger-Lily was struggling fiercely but futilely against several attackers.
Three were grappling with her, overcoming her resistance with ease. A hulking humanoid wart-hog, a bipedal baboon, and a genuine human. Freddie and Ferdy Fox were there too, but taking no active part in the assault. They were hopping up and down, looking nervous, and squeaking out comments like “Cool it, cool it, you’re going too far, man. The conjuror’s going to do his nut, and what about the cops?”
Spike ignored the foxes. He saw the human sticking his hand down the front of Tiger-Lily’s cheongsam, saw the warthog forcing its hideous face upon the pretty girl for a slobbering kiss, and a red mist descended over him. He hurtled into action.
The warthog was seized, pulled away, and hurled twenty feet through the air before it even realised that it was under attack. The baboon reacted quickly, baring its immense fangs and biting at Spike whilst simultaneously throwing punches. Spike didn’t bother parrying; he simply whipped into a dragon-kick so fast and powerful that it broke the baboon’s jaw and sent it sprawling limply to the ground.
The wart-hog picked itself up and gathered itself for a charge. The human released Tiger-Lily and pulled out a flick-knife from his pocket. Before he could open it Tiger-Lily chopped down across his wrist, kicked him hard behind the knees, and drove her elbow viciously into his face as he stumbled off-balance from the kick. He went down hard.
The wart-hog was three times Spike’s weight and it charged with head down and tusks hooking. Spike gave way before the charge, allowing himself to fall back under the creature, and brought his legs up hard in a sacrifice throw. The wart-hog was hurled high into the air, turned over through a hundred and eighty degrees, and crashed down heavily on its back. The breath was driven from its lungs and it lay helpless for long enough for Spike to regain his feet and administer a good kicking. Tiger-Lily had delivered a kicking to the human once he was down, and all three of the attackers lay unconscious.
Spike turned cold eyes on Freddie and Ferdy Fox. “Friends of yours?” he growled.
The foxes quailed. “Uh, more sort of acquaintances,” they stammered out. “They, uh, let us hang out with them sometimes.”
“See to them,” Spike ordered. “Patch them up. Get them out of here. And tell them that if I ever see them within a hundred yards of Tiger-Lily again they’re dead. Get it?”
“Yes, sir, yes sir,” the foxes quavered. They had no idea that they’d ever encountered Spike before, but they hastened to obey this terrifying stranger.
“Come on, pet, I’ll see you home,” Spike said to Tiger-Lily.
“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Don’t you want to get home?”
“You’re more important to me, pet,” he told her.
“Really?” Tiger-Lily asked, blushing. “You like me?”
“Well, yeah,” Spike said. “Not blind here, love.”
They walked back towards the conjuror’s dwelling together, and Tiger-Lily’s attitude was considerably warmer than it had been before. Not just because of the dramatic rescue; it transpired that she had indeed found Spike attractive all along, and had failed to respond to his advances only because she was unwilling to get involved with someone who would be departing shortly. Once Spike revealed that he had been considering staying in Nutwood, Tiger-Lily was much more responsive. Very much so.
“You know, I really fancy you
Are you old enough to screw?”
A blush came to the young girl’s cheek
“My eighteenth birthday was last week.”
“Then don’t just stand there, get undressed
For I’m the one who shags the best.
And though I still can’t speak Chinese
I’ll do my very best to please.”
Spike shagged her for an hour or more
She had an orgasm or four
Then as she gave a final squirm
Spike filled her pussy up with sperm
“Oh dear!” she cried, “What have you done?
In my oven there’ll be a bun.”
Spike told her, “You’ve no need to fear,
For vampire sperm is thin and clear.”
“I really hope that you are right
But this seems very thick and white.”
“Bugger!” Spike said. “It is indeed.
That’s not my usual cold dead seed.
I might have got you up the duff
I can’t apologise enough.
Your grandfather’s brought me to life!
Perhaps you’d better be my wife.”
Spike asked the conjuror for her hand
It was the custom in his land.
“All right, you can wed my grand-daughter,
As long as you abstain from slaughter.”
Spike and Tiger-Lily were wed
And spent the next six weeks in bed.
She wasn’t pregnant after all
And so they shagged and had a ball
Spike hadn’t just regained his length
He’d also kept his vampire strength.
He was like a Slayer for the town
And kept the Nutwood vampires down
It was a fairly useful job
And so they paid him a few bob
And they lived happily ever after
With lots and lots of sex and laughter.
The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only and all rights remain with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the writers of the original episodes, and the TV and production companies responsible for the original television shows. BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER ©2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer trademark is used without express permission from Fox. To the best of my knowledge Rupert Bear is copyright Express Newspapers.