Summary: Spike drags Illyria to see 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'. Hilarity ensues. Humorous Spike/Illyria. *COMPLETED, July 2004* PG13

Author's Note: This story is all Mirax's fault. Seriously. She made me do it with her cute fuzzy!book pictures and her clever knowledge of my obsession with forked!tongue!Illyria. Truly, she's wicked for giving me this idea and causing me to pee my pants laughing while writing it. *smooches Mirax* ~_^ Also, this fic does contain some very vague spoilers for 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'. Mostly just some stuff that happens at the beginning of the movie. But a bunch of jokes probably won't make much sense to anyone who hasn't seen it...

"I still do not understand the point of this activity," Illyria insisted, casting occasional looks at various individuals in the crowd of humans. She had learned something of what clothing was customary in this era, and Spike's assessment that she would not stand out in this crowd had been surprisingly accurate. Although perhaps a cloak would have been more appropriate than her body armor...

"The point," he explained patiently, barely managing to maintain his balance – and his popcorn – as swarms of kiddies ran all around him, "is to get away from Peaches' endless, woe-laden speeches 'bout how the entire bloody world rests on our shoulders." An especially fat kid crashed right into his knees, and they buckled.

Fortunately, Illyria was right behind him and caught him without fanfare, pushing him lightly back up to his feet. Only a few popcorn kernels spilled. "Wading through nests of human larvae is preferable?" she inquired skeptically.

"The 'larvae' will thin out once we get past the concession stands," he assured her, taking her hand so that they wouldn't get separated in the crowd and guiding her to the theater.

"Awesome costume!" A teenager across the room shouted to Illyria.

"What are you?" asked her date.

"She's a grindylow," Spike shouted back before Illyria could open her mouth and make matters worse.

"Way cool." They got the thumb's up sign.

"I do not understand this 'grindylow'," Illyria said, puzzled. "And that pupa just gestured as if to poke our eyes out. Was that not a threat?"

Spike just rolled his eyes and muttered to himself. He should've known it was a mistake bringing her. But some part of his ego just wouldn't let him go to the movies alone, and the Blue Bully was the easiest of Angel's somber lot to convince.

"Was a peaceable pupa," he couldn't help but be amused by her terminology despite himself. With a breath of relief, they managed to squeeze past a grumpy father who was yelling at his wife on his cell-phone, and slipped into the cool darkness of the theater.

"Humans fear the night, yet they make day into darkness," Illyria commented philosophically.

"Otherwise they wouldn't be able to see a damn thing," Spike retorted, searching for empty seats.

Damn, the only ones unavailable that didn't require you to turn your head upside-down and sideways just to get a good look at the screen were at the very back. And already the teenagers who'd managed to dump their squawking younger brothers and sisters were pairing up to turn the entire back half of the theater into a sickeningly sweet orgy of teen angst and hormones...

But then again, when they saw the two adults approaching, they straightened up and pretended to be wholesome. It would've been more effective if that brunette's blouse wasn't on backward. And the movie hadn't even started yet. Yeesh.

"Those three prepubescent females are studying you and scenting the air with pheromones," Illyria informed him as he pulled her in front of her seat and shoved down on her shoulders until she complied and sat down.

"Oh?" Sitting down himself, Spike spotted the three giggling teenage blondes. Gave them a little smirk and wink. It set them off giggling and blushing even harder. Oh yeah. Still got it...

"Do you intend to initiate mating rituals?" she asked curiously. A bit hopefully, as well. She was quite eager to study his physical technique during copulation. This human form of insemination was becoming increasingly intriguing to her, and he'd indicated more than once that he was the ideal specimen for further investigation.

He had the decency to look sheepish at that. "Just flirtin' a bit," he promised her. "'S a bit tacky, I guess. Sorry 'bout that, blue."

She frowned, puzzling over his words. "Tacky?" she repeated, head tilted to one side.

"Well, yeah. Flirtin' with random strangers right in front of my date..."

"Date. You have used this term for me before. Are we dating?" she inquired.

He gulped, Adam's apple bobbing at the rather unique corner he'd gotten himself trapped in. Thankfully, the theater seemed to be on his side. The lights dimmed and the previews began playing. "Can't talk now," he whispered hastily, studying the coming attractions intently...and trying desperately not to insult the pieces of shite being advertised.

Illyria held her tongue but only because he's stressed repeatedly on the way over that once the projected illusions started playing on the screen, speaking would be punishable by the theater staff playing recordings of Angel singing 'Mandy' in the shower. Sometimes she thought she'd underestimated the humans and their Draconian punishments...

"Here." Feeling guilty about cutting her off so rudely, Spike handed her the popcorn. He figured she'd come up with the right thing to do with it. After all, if she couldn't figure something out, it usually ended up going right into her mouth for analysis. One of these days, he was tempted to give her a peek down his trousers just to see if she'd... He shook the thought off. Neither the time nor the place to get himself riled up.

Illyria blinked large blue eyes down at the bag of white starches that had been placed in her lap. Curiously, she reached in and pulled out one cloud-shaped piece. Grains of sodium clung to its exterior, shimmering in the flashing lights of the movie projection.

Intrigued by the phenomenon, she popped the kernel into her mouth. Not unpleasant. Spike didn't react by shaking his head at her or rolling his eyes. She noticed that the male larvae before her was also inserting the white substance into his mouth and concluded she'd properly solved the mystery of 'popcorn'.

She continued to eat and watch the flickering images before her. A man with thick proud metallic tentacles massacring another man in red body armor. A box of popcorn much like hers, brought magically to life and dancing across the screen, demanding that she venture to the 'lobby'. Herds of buffalo fleeing at the sound of a telephone. Obviously, they feared listening to Angel sing as well.

Yet, before long, she felt compelled to tempt that very same fate. "I have lost the man with the fine tentacles," she whispered in Spike's ear, confused.

He sighed, whispered back. "That was just a preview. Plot hasn't started yet, luv."

"Then the gyrating popcorn is not part of the alien conspiracy to ruin the yellow-furred girl's prom night?"

He winced. "No. Although that'd probably be better than the actual movie..." He couldn't help but grin.

"Ah."

"'ll tell you when we're starting," he assured her.

She nodded and continued to study these 'previews'. Odd, that. If they were viewing them now, then how could they be previews? She was tempted to ask him again, but this question was not worth Angel's off-pitch caterwauling.

"Here we go," Spike whispered to her as digital images of text flashed across the screen, accompanied by booming music.

Illyria noticed that all the humans quieted down. Perhaps this began the portion where disruption was punishable by the mortals' cruelest weapon.

She studied the children on the screen. They appeared to be accomplished sorcerers, much like her advisors once had been. Only odd thin rods were now apparently vital to the wizarding art. And British accents. This last part puzzled her. It fit the pattern in that Wesley had also possessed magical abilities; yet Spike used the same magical 'Briticisms', and he seemed to possess no magical skills whatsoever. Perhaps he was merely concealing his true powers. Her respect for her companion grew at that.

Her attention turned from the inflatable woman onscreen and the two 'horny little brats' in the row ahead. Spike had taken to intentionally kicking the back of their seat at regular intervals. The human pair remained oblivious, and Illyria studied them intently. Their mortal mating rituals were fascinating to her. Strange gestures and interactions that so consumed the consciousness of so many beings, even when generating more larvae of their species wasn't the aim...

"Movie's on the screen," Spike whispered in her ear when she'd leaned so far forward in her seat that her eyeballs were literally inches away from the kissing pre-teens' lips. He tugged on her shoulders, pulling her back into her seat beside him.

She frowned when she noticed his actions had led to his left arm being left neatly wrapped around her shoulders. She considered for a moment, then concluded that if he could whisper in her ear without retaliation from the theater, that she could do the same.

She leaned in precisely so that her lips were only millimeters from his ear, and he shivered, puzzled at what she thought she was doing.

"You leave one appendage around me much like the young mortal did to the blonde woman in the 'previews'. Do you wish to engage in fornication?"

Belatedly, Spike realized he'd been slow in retracting his arm. He did so now at lightning-quick speed, causing her to sit back and blink at him in confusion.

"Watch the movie," he hissed in a low voice, twitching nervously.

Puzzled by his behavior and somewhat disappointed that her efforts to further her exploration of this new sexuality had failed, Illyria reluctantly returned her attention to the screen. Mortals were truly foolish creatures. Everything of interest was occurring within the throng of humanity watching the screen, yet they all remained transfixed by a large gray canvas and the tricks of light that played upon it.

Head cocked to one side, Illyria stared at the images, trying to decipher what hypnotic powers they held that so many were trapped within their spell. An angry boy stalking through the streets at night. Odd. Spike had given her a brief lecture on this series of movies on the way over. They apparently consisted of 'boarding school pricks buggering each other'. Illyria searched in vain for any buggering since that was yet another aspect of mortal interaction that intrigued her.

She remained confused and formulated a theory that, perhaps, the flashing lights were more magical than she had suspected. Perhaps they appeared differently to each mortal who observed them. That would explain how Spike saw buggery, while she observed...

Almost as if to confirm her theory, a large purple bus suddenly appeared onscreen. Illyria watched in fascination as it warped space and time. Yes, this she understood. The movie was clearly adapting off of her own consciousness, making use of her old ability to manipulate time. She watched, awestruck, as the world as she had once seen it flashed across the screen.

This was what held the mortals entranced. Everything she lacked and longed for brought back to life in this simulated medium. It was a pleasant illusion, indeed.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief when Her Holiness finally settled herself down and started watching the movie. Maybe this wouldn't turn out to be as big a disaster as he'd suspected. He never could predict how she'd react to anything. Made it quite a lot of fun to pit her against the great world out there and see what amusement shook loose.

That, and he couldn't have let anyone else know he wanted to see this flick without taking a major hit to his Big Bad image. Not that he wasn't half convinced that that image was already destroyed beyond repair...

Shaking the thoughts off, he snagged a handful of popcorn from the box in Illyria's lap and sat back to enjoy himself. Good move ditching that Chris Columbus bloke. No more kiddies with their mouths and eyes open wide like they'd just taken it from behind. Bloody poofter...

Of course, the brief peace was doomed to end. Really, what were the odds? A vampire, a demon goddess, and a kid's movie all in one place. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Spike chuckled when that Potter brat's book took a snap at him and dove under the bed.

So did most of the audience.

Illyria, on the other hand, was living in her own special brand of reality. "My army lives..." she suddenly said aloud, rising to her feet as if in a trance.

Several of their seat neighbors gave her odd looks and pointed scowls, but she remained oblivious to them all.

"The noble tentacles, the proud forked tongue... Clearly, that 'book' is of divine heritage," she announced aloud for all the theater to hear.

Now she was getting pointed hisses to be quiet.

Swearing vigorously in his head, Spike got up and tried to get her to sit back down in her seat. She merely threw off his hands on her shoulders, however, and he fell forward, landing neatly in the middle of the pre-teen love-nest in front of them.

"Blue," he hissed in a low voice, getting right back up and trying to maneuver her back into her seat, "remember that discussion we had about talking and 's horrifying consequences?"

Onscreen, the book scuttled across the floor, further exciting the former god. "My people live." She shook him off again. "I will gather them to me, and we will rise anew. Look!" She turned him roughly so that he could see the little book wreak havoc.

OK, so the tongue was kind of cute. In a weird monstrous way that he severely doubted any non-demons in the audience would sympathize with. Still, this was the sort of behavior that had to be nipped in the bud before the theater staff tried to boot them and Illyria splattered the walls with usher remains. No good at all, that.

"'S not real," he tried to soothe her, keeping his voice low in a vain hope that she'd imitate him. "Just a prop they ran a li'l CGI over and—"

"Once we were giants, masters of this domain," Illyria continued, ignoring his explanations. "Our kind has been reduced to miniscule size, but we survive." As if to demonstrate their common ancestry, she stuck out her tongue.

Spike blinked in surprise. Well, what did you know? It did look a bit like that book, after all. Forked right at the tip like a dragon's. A rather intriguing prospect, actually. Wonder what a tongue like that would feel like wrapped around my—Oh, right. Blue Meltdown to avert. Mind back on track.

"OK, luv, we're gonna take a quick trip to the loo where 'll explain all the details of modern cinematic marvels and—"

His impassioned and hoarsely whispered plea was cut off by the horrified ululating cry that escaped Illyria's lips. He turned back to the screen in time to see Potter tackle the book and tie its mouth shut with a good belt. Right. Like that little ponce wasn't into bondage...

"Infidel!" she exclaimed, blue eyes flashing. "Your subjugation will be avenged and—"

"He's just an actor!" Spike hissed, placing himself between Illyria and the screen. It was a bit tight with the narrow aisles, but he figured it best to block the source of her irritation.

"Then whoever is responsible for this movie," she insisted stubbornly.

"Warner Brothers?" Spike couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes. I will find these brothers Warner and drench the streets with their blood. The Old Race will rise once more and—"

Small projectiles were now being thrown at them to shut up. Angry glares and hissed insults. Suspicious, authoritative looking people were appearing near the entrance, obviously sent to quiet the disturbance. It had the potential to turn rapidly into very violent bloodshed, and Spike had only seconds to stop Illyria's Holy War.

So, in an impulsive fit, he did the only thing he could think of that would shut her up. He captured her mouth in a deep, breathtaking kiss.

A surprised little squeak escaped Illyria's lips when his mouth covered hers, but then she gave in to her curiosity, moving her lips and tongue as he moved his, letting him guide her. What had begun as a scientific interest in this bizarre element of human behavior, quickly turned to an enjoyable experience, and she held him closer to her, wishing to explore more of this kissing.

He guided her back into her seat, and this time she didn't fight him. Pulled him down with her, actually, until they were both tangled uncomfortably around each other, sprawled over both their seats. Spike let out a pained little hiss before he managed to put up the armrest. There. That was right comfy. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the theater personnel see that the problem had solved itself and leave. He breathed a sigh of relief...

...And suddenly realized that he'd actually kissed Illyria. Bugger. So much for his not-so-brief existence...

Illyria observed as her body responded favorably to being in close contact with his. She put aside all thoughts of the war she and her warrior-book race would wage against the Warner brothers. Such concerns could be dealt with at a later date. Right now, her half-breed pet had finally offered himself as a suitable partner with which to explore mortal sexuality. It was not an opportunity to be missed...

Gonna die. Gonna be dust any minute and... Hey! Did she just put her hand on my—? Ooh...quite nice... Spike's horrified mental flailing came to a halt when he realized that, rather than take offense at his rather presumptuous means of distraction, she was returning his kiss whole-heartedly. That deft little forked tongue was in his mouth right now, merrily tasting every inch of him. And those little hands of hers seemed to have quite the instincts for how to get a man hot. Must have been all those daytime talk shows she watched.

Of course, she's still a haughty little strumpet with an ego bigger than...mine, and metaphors are failing now, and yeah... This isn't so bad after all...

Truly, this half-breed is a fool for visiting dark rooms with mortals and moving pictures when such a satisfactory form of entertainment was available all along. A simple mind, like all these primitive beasts. Although not an...unpleasant body. If only he had a few more tentacles...

And, soft sighs trailing off beneath the soundtrack of the movie, they settled themselves in for the duration like a couple of horny teenagers. After all, it was for the good of all concerned, right? If the movie followed the book, those magic books would be making reappearance, and she'd blow her stack when she saw them all imprisoned. Or at least that was Spike's official defense if anyone called him on his prattish behavior.

After all, it's not like any of them had even bagged themselves a goddess.

And, sacrificing himself completely to Her Royal Blueness' lust, one last pleasant thought struck him:

Missed most of this flick. Guess that means we'll have to come back to see it again.

He had a feeling Illyria would find that arrangement most acceptable.

*giggles uncontrollably* Nope. Absolutely no clue what I was on when I wrote this. *giggles some more*