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The Spell
By Danii Debrabant



_The Spell_
_Category:_ TV Shows ? Buffy: The Vampire Slayer _Censor:_ G
_Genre:_ Humor/Action/Adventure _Reviews:_ 2 StoryID: 284898
_Author_: DeBrabant Font Size: Bigger (+) - Smaller (-)

More Than It Doesn't
0 6 pt 6 pt 0

More Than It Doesn't

by Danii

Insane little plot bunny that wouldn't go away. Just read it.


I own none of them, even though I want them all!

Take it, please!!!

A must!

And now:

Autolycus sighed, and stroked his tiny beard with one hand.

This was going to be tricky.

True, he was the King of Thieves, but for every amazing caper he
pulled off, some wise guy somewhere figured out a new way to make his
life into more trouble.
But, he knew, that was what came of being the best.

Not that the gigantic diamond that was sitting in the small box
before him wasn't a payback for all the trouble.
Hades, he lived for this stuff; the work, and the pay.
And what gorgeous pay it was.

But he couldn't dwell on that.
He had to get the jewel before he could really admire it because, as
he always said, a jewel in the pocket was worth...whatever Akbar the
merchant was willing to pay.
And for this beauty, the greedy little peddler would give him top
As soon as it was IN his pocket.

With a twist of his chin, the self-proclaimed King of Thieves decided
that the best way to grab the diamond would be to replace it with a
bag of sand just as he pulled it away.
So, watching the room carefully just in case, Autolycus grabbed the
bag of sand from his waist and ever so gently plucked the diamond
from it's place just as he put in the bag.
Then he waited.


No moving sounds, no readying arrows, no guards stomping towards him
with murder in their hearts and peanuts for their brains.
Just the silence of the room and the singing in his heart at the cold
hard shiny weight in his hand.

"Haha!" he exclaimed in joy at his success.
"The King of Thieves has claimed a new jewel for his crown!"

And that's when the grinding sound started.

"Aw crap..."


Robin Hood, his band of merry men standing at the ready all
throughout the surrounding forest, watched the approaching caravan
with a well-practiced eye and a slight sense of worry.

Sure, he had had scouts out the night before and all during the day
to make sure that nothing would go wrong.
And of course, he had personally checked the timing of the caravan.
And, as always, all the weapons had been checked before the men had
taken their positions.
But for some reason, Robin couldn't help himself from feeling a tinge
of anxiety as the first wagon in line passed by the Wil.

"Anything the problem, Robin?" asked Little John from behind him in a
careful whisper as he continued to glance around.

Robin wished for the entire world that he could say 'yes' and have
the whole thing forgotten, but he had no concrete evidence that
anything was going to happen so couldn't.
Besides, such a call would undermine his leadership, which was
something he did NOT need.
It had taken too much work to mold the peasants and woodsmen of
Sherwood into a force for good for him to wreck it now because of his
His nerves that were already a bit flaky from his last experience
with Maid Marian which had set his head ringing.

Sure, he'd been a little bit too honest about the dress, but she
didn't have to deck him for it.

Or send the guard after him.

"Ah, love..." Robin whispered wistfully with a smile before returning
his attention to the caravan, which was just a second or two from
being right where it should be.

"Wait for it...wait for it..." Robin cautioned himself and the others.
Then, just as it was at just the right spot, he gave a quick
bird-like whistle to signal the others.

Then he jumped out.


Shocked and amazed, Robin looked around to where the other men were
supposed to, only to find them tied to the very trees that had hidden
Quickly, he turned around to find his own very dear friend Little
John being held back by several men, his mouth gagged with an old rag.

Then he saw the rest of the guards...not to mention the Sheriff.
And only two words came to his mind.

"Aw crap..."


"Percy..." Andrew hissed from the back of the cart, "Percy!"

"Oh, hush..." Sir Percy Blakenley answered quickly with just a hint of
He did trust young Andrew, but the man did have a habit of getting
nervous rather easily, and while this trait would not have normally
been a problem for the noble Englishman, in this particular
situation, it might be deadly.

"But Percy-"

"HUSH, Monsieur Porie!"
Percy said more forcefully, using the name in hope of reminding his
helper that they were SUPPOSED to be a couple of French wine
True, they were but minutes away from the 'Daydream', but he had
learned from experience that any plan, no matter how close to
completion, could be fuddled by one person's carelessness.
He hoped that for tonight, there would be no fuddling, and certainly
none by Andrew.
He quite liked Andrew.

"Sorry, Per-"


"D?sol?, monsieur..." Andrew finished glumly.

The leader smiled at his helper, then began urging the horses of the
cart they were on to go faster.

Just a little farther, Percy thought to himself, and the Marquis and
his family will be safe and sound.
Just as importantly, I'LL be safe and sound, not to mention young Sir
This night will be over, and I will have another day or so to spend
with Marguerite before I return to this God-forsaken nest of vipers
and cutthroats.

However, just as he got within a mile of the yacht which would bring
them back to their safe homes, Percy was cut off by several men on
horseback riding right in front of him.
Immediately, he pulled back the reins to stop the horses before they
collided with the riders.
The armed riders.
The armed riders in uniforms who were headed by a familiar black-clad

Percy blanked for a moment, then felt the need to say something about
this turn of events.
He was thinking 'sink me', but then he said in a tired tone,

"Aw crap..."


Rick O'Connel was doing reasonably well, or at least he thought so.

He had a beautiful wife who loved him just as much as he loved her, a
gigantic house paid for with gold he'd earned with sweat and blood if
not time, and a wonderful blonde little boy who would smile at him in
that special way that made even his insides go to mush.
And he never ever got mushy.

Things were going pretty well for him, even considering that at the
moment, he was standing in the middle of a tomb that hadn't seen
human life in the last three thousand years.
Then again, he'd been in scarier places.

Like two inches from a rampaging mummy that wanted to kill his then

And a foot away from thousands of man-eating scarabs.

Not to mention sitting in a plane, spinning in the middle of a raging
dust devil.

So, considering what he'd dealt with, it wasn't a horrible thing to
be sitting in the tomb as his wife dusted away the centuries of grim
and dirt from the hieroglyphics.
Hell, he'd done this hundreds of times.
In fact, he was actually getting a little bored as Evie read.
And so, not wanting to get tired early on in the dig, Rick found an
empty and relatively clean spot and sat down with a manly plop.

However, this plop turned into a rather unmanly-shriek as the stone
block he had sat upon sunk down in the ground accompanied by the
sound of metallic items moving.
Unfortunately for them, yet fortunately for Rick's pride, his wife
missed the whole thing.
But he didn't feel the need to tell her about it.

"Um, Evie?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I think we need to get out of her now, honey..."

Now, she turned from her work, frustrated, covered with dirt, and yet
completely beautiful.
It was lucky she did, because just as she moved, a large knife went
flying out from a crack in the wall, aimed at where she had stood
moments ago.
Immediately, Rick grabbed her hand and began to run as he heard more
metallic sounds.

"Aw crap..."




There was silence.


Immediately, Xander jumped up from his seat on the floor next to his
best friend, shocked out of the spell he had been in.
However, the lingering magic still glistened in his eyes as Willow
put her hand on his shoulder to stabilize him.

"Jeez Xander...had me worried there for a moment." The witch told him,
"You were gone for, what, ten minutes...and the spell says that most
people only experience the effects for a minute or so..."

"Who says I'm most people?" replied the young man with a sly smile,
"As you well know, I am uniquely Xander..."

"Yeah, Xan..." Willow agreed with a silly grin at the person who
probably knew her best in all the world, "But still..."

"Still what?" Xander asked testily, "It was just a harmless spell.
Didn't actually do anything, did it?
I just got to see my past lives..."

"Really?" the red-headed witch exclaimed, "It worked!?
That's so cool!
What did you see!?
What did you see!?"

In response, the dark-haired young man just gave her an impish smile.
"Some stuff..."

"What stuff!?" Willow begged desperately, "Come on!
Did you have a really past life?"


"Lives?" the young witch asked in wonder, "You mean you saw more than
one of them..."

"Yup..." Xander answered simply.

"Oh, that is just so...neat!" Willow exclaimed, nearly bursting with
excitement, "Who were you!?"

"Well," Xander began with a huge grin, "I started out as-"

However, the young man was interrupted by the sound of the door
opening quickly, followed by the stomping of a rather angry
ex-Watcher storekeeper.

Giles made his way in, then looked around the room with a raptor
gaze, taking in all the spell-casting equipment and the two young
people sitting on the floor.
But before he could begin his rant concerning spells, the danger of
doing them, and the necessity of telling him when they were going to
be cast, Xander interrupted him.

"Before you start yelling at us as I'm sure you're going to, I just
have one thing to say..."


Xander looked to Willow.

"Aw crap."

The End.

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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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