Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss Whedon.

A/N: Written as a part of Fag End's Halloween 2014 Zombie Uprising challenge for the prompt "Mesmeric Revelation."


"Is it working?" Buffy asks. She stands with her hands on her hips at stares down at Spike, waiting for him to change in some way or go all limp and floppy or maybe just cluck like a chicken or something.

"It—er—" Giles rubs at his eyes. "It should be. I felt some… something."

"Haven't you ever watched them use lie detectors on TV?" Xander asks. "You gotta ask him questions you know the answer to first, to figure it out. Then you build up to the real stuff."

"This isn't a polygraph, Xander," Giles sighs. "Nothing is going to light up or buzz. The spell forces him to tell the truth, it doesn't tell us when he's lying."

"So ask him something he'd lie about," says Xander. "Also there's a possibility we shouldn't be talking about how this works in front of him."

Spike just glares sulkily from the floor, but Buffy is ready to defend him. "It's not fair for us to just cut him out of the conversation," she points out. "This is about him, he deserves to be here."

She ignores the weird looks the Xander and Anya give her. They just don't understand.

"Xander may be right," says Giles. "I've never done this particular spell before." He crouches down next to Spike, steadying himself with one hand on the desk leg beside him which he has to grab at twice before he gets hold of. "Spike, how old are you?"

"Hundred twenty."

"How have you been spending your time here?"

"Watching my shows."

"What did you do before you were turned?"

"Unemployed."

Buffy watches as Spike's face contorts with the effort of his resistance. Poor thing. Giles is just going to humiliate him here, in front of her friends and everything. But if it works, it'll be worth it. Definitely.

"Giles, you have to ask him something he wouldn't answer," Anya sighs.

"Well, I am trying. He hasn't got any modesty."

"Damn right," Spike interjects.

"You try thinking of something."

Anya folds her arms and huffs.

Buffy tries to think of something embarrassing, but not too embarrassing, that wouldn't be fair at all. They need to hurry this up. She has questions. Important questions.

After a few moments, Xander snaps his fingers. "I've got it." He leaves Anya's side to stand closer to Giles and looks down at Spike. "Which of the Friends would you sleep with, but only counting the guy friends."

Giles rubs his eyes some more. "Xander, please."

She can't take this anymore.

"My turn." Buffy pushes Xander out of the way and drops down next to Spike, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Spike, this is very important. Do you understand?"

He nods, almost mesmerised but still undeniably Spike by the way he meets her gaze.

She speaks slowly and clearly. "What is your last name?"

No way in hell is she going to be Mrs. the Bloody.