The Lateralus Duet - 1 - Schism
by Valyssia
The Mirror of the Sun
[reviews]
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so we cannot see to reach an end, crippling our communication.
Buffy snarled as she dodged the knife. Her arm went out, catching the flat of the blade and sending it spinning to stick harmlessly in the wall. "I don't get it, Giles," she spat, bouncing aside to avoid a thrown axe. "Why am I the only one that sees it!" she raged.
Giles picked up another knife from the pile and hurled it at the slayer, offering, "Perhaps it's because you're the only one who doesn't appreciate exactly what that young man represented."
As Buffy easily slapped the knife aside, she commented angrily, "Your mouth's moving, Giles, but the only word that meant a damn thing to me was 'man.' " She smacked the next blade away, then tumbled across the floor, rising to her feet in front of the watcher. After mocking a blow to his neck, she heatedly remarked, "You're dead, Giles, and so is Warren Mears."
Without comment, Giles made his way over to a pommel horse and sat down.
Buffy flopped down on the mat. "I wish I understood. I really wish I could, but you English people...it's like someone put your brains in backwards" — an annoyed sigh broke up the rant — "I'm doing what I should be doing, stopping the world from ending, again; the council sweeps in and makes my life miserable" — she snickered resentfully — "I kill a guy? I mean totally, 'kick him when he's down' fuck him up? You should be leading me off in chains." Her gaze fixed on the floor as a bitter smile twisted her features. "What's the mighty council do? They investigate. Their verdict? He was a bad guy. He deserved to die. Pretty much the same thing the cops said, but for different reasons." She dropped her head in her hand, then added, "It's like no one really sees me—what I did."
His gaze fixed on the sullen slayer and Giles replied with a wry smile, "I see you, Buffy." He stood up and started to pace. "The thing I don't believe you appreciate is that your response is what's key in these matters. The Council looks at the events and the histories of those involved. Then they look at the reaction of the slayer." He sighed. "Accidents occur, Buffy—miscalculations, if you prefer. They are far more common than any of us would like."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "So what you're saying is—all that supposed wisdom and whatever... What it comes down to is they're happy if I'm miserable?"
Giles couldn't restrain a chuckle. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I hadn't quite looked at it that way." She does have an uncanny knack for boiling matters down to their root. He approached the slayer and presented his hand to her. His tone reflected concern as he offered, "Come now, Buffy, Willow tells me you haven't been eating. Allow me to buy you dinner?"
***********
It had been a week since Spike had broken the slayer's spirit. In the past, nothing would've made him happier than what he had now, but he kept finding himself hoping she would snap out of it. Not a single word since I shagged her in the barn. She won't even look at me. His gaze leveled on the naked blonde in his bed.
He snapped his fingers and Buffy rose from where she lay. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor as she dragged the heavy leash behind her, making her way to his feet. She ignored the collar, refusing to show any sign that she cared one way or the other. At least I can use the bathroom and bathe. My hands are free. Took days for that.
Spike pointed at his crotch and the blonde responded by dropping to her knees. She's actually better than the bot. Why's this so bleeding empty, then?
It's empty because you wanted someone to challenge you, stupid git. This girl's just a pretty, little, human slave. There's no passion. At least the bloody bot would talk to you—tell you what a man you were. Look at her eyes, the spark's gone out. She barely even screams when you hit her now.
Buffy unfastened the vampire's pants and took him into her mouth. It was no mystery what he wanted; all men have a few basic needs. The vampire laced his fingered through her hair. She allowed him control, putting up no resistance. This was the need she was destined to fulfill, like it or not. At least he pretty much stopped trying to talk to me. Easier this way. I could care less what he thinks. He can hit me all he wants, I'm not afraid anymore. If he kills me: freedom. It's my fault anyway. I'm the one that let him build his little fantasy. Should've killed him when I had the chance.
***********
Willow couldn't help but smile when she heard the door open. Glancing over from her seat on the couch, she made her expression evaporate by sheer will. Buffy wants someone to blame, someone to punish. She needs to wallow. 'Happy' is the last thing she wants to see. Her heart leapt, but her face was utterly impassive when the slayer made her way into the living room. She met the morose gaze, not knowing quite what to say.
After a moment of just silently staring at the witch, hoping she would say something, Buffy took a seat next to her on the couch. Eventually, just to hear someone say something, Buffy ruefully hissed, "No one, Will, not a single soul seems to give a shit."
"That's not entirely true, Buffy. I understand how you feel. I totally get the 'why.' " Willow took a deep sigh and collected the slayer's hand. "I'm not going to say I'm not grateful they were lenient, though. What good would be served by hauling you away for 'reconditioning'? I'm not sure I even want to imagine what that means. Would you like it if they had? Would it make you happy?"
Buffy looked at the hand the witch held. "I'm not sure 'happy' is the word, but I'd feel justice had been done."
Letting the remark rest, Willow caressed the hand she held as she matter-of-factly commented, "Giles called to make sure you ate. I've been instructed to feed you if I have to." She rose from the couch and clutched the hand, pulling the slayer to her feet. She made her way to the kitchen and began to look through the cabinets. "Soup, I think. You haven't been eating much, so...," she thought out loud, pulling down a can of chicken noodle to heat up. She didn't even look back to get an opinion about this; she just assumed that she would make it and Buffy would eat. While she prepared the soup, she asked, "Did you know they had a working mind-control device, Buffy?"
Buffy sat at the counter, putting her head in her hands. "Yeah... Travers called him a 'dark warlock.' That's the label he used. Not that Warren had an ounce of magick."
"No, but he did have some pretty sophisticated skills. That invisibility ray was amazing stuff. The mind-control thingy was just scary. Imagine what you could do with that?" Willow reflected as she stirred the soup on the stove. A giggle slipped out and she added, "Course, they were probably just gonna use it to..." Her voice fell off as she realized exactly how disturbing the thought actually was. Do what I did, she filled in silently.
"Pick up girls," Buffy offered, filling in the blank with the first thing that came to mind.
"Commit rape," Willow translated quickly. Glancing over her shoulder, she quirked an eyebrow at the slayer.
Buffy took a second to reflect and react, then replied, "Point taken."
"Good," Willow stated frankly as she walked around to take a seat next to the slayer. Once seated, she remarked, "Patrol tonight, with me. You've been slacking." A subtle smile curved the corners of her mouth before she added, "I'm not sure I really thanked you for talking to Giles."
Buffy turned into the embrace when the witch caught her up. Placing her head on Willow's shoulder, she replied, "I'm just surprised it was so easy to convince him. Amazing what a little guilt can do."
"Isn't it?" Willow reflected sardonically, then released the slayer to retrieve her soup. Once the bowl, crackers, napkin, and spoon were in front of the blonde, she returned to her place and commented in a stern tone, "I was serious about the feeding."
Buffy grudgingly picked up the spoon and started to stir it through the soup, watching the noodles move around the bowl. She took a spoonful when Willow's glare became too much to stand. "So where's Dawn? I thought she'd be here," she asked between dutiful bites.
"Janice's, studying. I checked, she is actually there," Willow replied distantly, then rose from the chair. Her hands went to the slayer's shoulders. She soothingly started to caress them while she remarked, "Y'know, all things considered, Giles isn't a bad teacher. He shared something with me. We both got this awhile back, but just hearing it again was helpful. 'Purpose' is what really matters, Buffy. The reason you did what you did," she sighed, "I'd like to think I know you pretty well. My instincts tell me that, on some level that night, you understood exactly what he was. Something inside you said he was destined to really hurt someone. If your goal was to stop that..." she trailed off and put her arms around the blonde.
Buffy relaxed despite herself under the tender touch. I did think he was bad news—headed for something... But part of it was selfish too. I wanted him to stop hurting me. She mechanically spooned bites of soup while the redhead caressed her stomach.
The soup was nearly gone when Willow took her seat again. "If you really think you deserve punishment, I can think of a few things." She glanced at the blonde, giving her a wicked grin.
Oh boy...there it is again. Buffy paled a little as she quietly took the last couple spoonfuls of soup. The reaction was instantaneous, but she refused to show an outward sign that anything was different. Instead, she got up, took her dishes to the sink, and began to wash them. What is it about her? All it takes is a look and I'm running to the bathroom to change my underwear. Maybe it's the waiting—being responsible? Painful...but it's the right thing. The real weirdness is that part of—she scares the crap out of me. Well, maybe that's a bit much, but...umm...wow. Big question is: how long? 'Cause, been a week—the week from hell, actually—and I'm about to strip and let her do...whatever. I'm not even sure what to expect. For someone who's clueless about subtle flirting, she sure has sexual innuendo down to a science.
Willow smirked as the slayer made her way wordlessly from the kitchen.
***********
Her posture indicated that she was absolutely in her element when Willow leaned casually against a tombstone.
Buffy stood next to the witch, taking in all the subtle movements and sensations. Funny what you can get used to. Finally, she commented offhandedly, "I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon. It's not much, but it beats nothing."
"Oh?" Willow prompted, appearing interested.
Buffy shrugged and ignored the approaching vampires, more interested in what the redhead had to say. "Yeah...clothing store downtown," she commented dryly.
"Y'know, I saw the perfect job in the paper today. At least, I think it's perfect," Willow remarked, taking the slayer's hands when she moved to face her. "Campus security guard," she offered. A slight smile tugged at her lips when Buffy's expression reflected disbelief. "Now hear me out, Buffy. I know you're having career day flashbacks: bad polyester uniforms, that sorta thing," she sighed, "Thing is, you'd be getting paid to patrol. Trouble is getting it. People look at you and see—"
Buffy raised an eyebrow as the redhead quirked a grin and waved over her shoulder.
"We're not interrupting you girls, are we?" a burly looking vampire asked in an amused tone.
Buffy exhaled an extended, annoyed-sounding sigh and turned to face the four vampires. "Actually, yes. Would you mind coming back in, like, half an hour?" she snarked, looking down at her watch.
Willow curled her fingers to inspect her nails. Her expression reflected the epitome of boredom as the slayer spun into the largest vampire. The first one was dust in less time than it took for her to look over her shoulder and say, "You really don't wanna do that," to the fifth. He thought he'd be sneaky. She focused for an instant and he fell to dust. A soft sigh slipped out as she turned back to watch the fight. Buffy needs this. 'Kay, so...maybe not that... She winced when the blonde took a hard kick to the stomach.
Buffy's focus melted when she heard the witch's voice. She turned to watch the vampire just erupt, untouched, into a cloud of dust and ember. What the hell? She took another blow, this one a hard right to the chin and spun to the ground. "Hey, Will—" she sprung to her feet, sweeping the closing vampire's legs from under him "—if you can do that—" she plunged the stake in "—why am I over here sweating?" She concluded as the vampire combusted into ash.
"It's good for you," Willow observed amusedly. The final two vampires were closing on the slayer and she had a sudden urge for popcorn.
Buffy swept into a high kick, sending one of the vampires crashing into a headstone. While she leveled on the second, she asked, "So what was that?"
"Nothing," Willow responded innocently, then cringed when the second one took a hard forearm to the face and fell to his knees. "Remember in biology class when we had to pith fr..." she faded off unable to say the word.
One of the two vampires wrapped his arms around the slayer and she stooped, sending him over her shoulders. "Frogs?" she filled in while she blocked a punch, then sent the vampire flying with a kick to the chest.
"Yeah," Willow replied with a disgusted look and a shudder. Then her expression turned thoughtful again while she reflected, "It just seemed to me that simpler was better. So...what's decapitation anyway? Simpled up, it's cutting the spine from the brain."
Both vampires glanced up from the ground in dismay and gasped at the witch.
Buffy plunged a stake into one of them while Willow focused and dusted the other.
"It's not much harder than floating a pencil, really. No muss...no fuss..." Willow remarked casually as she bounced to her feet.
Buffy wrapped her arm around the witch's waist. "'Kay, so...I'm about to replay my first comment."
Willow started for the entrance with the slayer at her side. "Why? I'd just say the same thing." A smile lit her face when Buffy flashed a playful annoyed glance. "It's true. I don't even need to ask. I can tell you feel better."
"Security guard, huh?" Buffy reflected while she considered the idea.
Willow nodded. "I think it's a good call. Good money too." She pulled the slayer to a stop and draped her arms around her neck. "You could mix patrolling and work—more time for me," she purred, then gave the blonde a gentle kiss. She combed her fingers through Buffy's short hair. "And the uniform...it'll look better and better—" she gave the slayer another soft kiss "—when you realize—" her lips brushed over the blonde's suggestively "—that all I want to do—"
Buffy gasped, "Yeah?" A subtle moan followed when soft hands trailed down her back and groped her ass.
"Is take it off of you," Willow finished the thought and seized the slayer in a lingering passionate kiss.
Long, delicate fingers massaged through the thick fabric of her jeans while their tongues caressed. Buffy was so sensitive, her entire body felt like one over-stimulated nerve. The movement and the pressure finally pushed her over the edge. Her eyes spotted behind their lids and she stood trembling. She withdrew from the kiss just enough to groan, then hungrily reclaimed the redhead's lips. Moisture flowed between her thighs. Her hands moved over the witch's body with reckless abandon. She paused to massage the redhead's breasts through the fabrics of her bra and blouse, wanting nothing more than to tear the offensive garments away.
Then the voice of reason broke through the haze.
Willow withdrew from the embrace just enough to ask, "Is this really what you want?" cursing herself immediately for speaking.
The slayer pulled back and blinked at her for moment.
She looked at the damp glistening skin of the blonde's brow under the moonlight and suddenly understood what Buffy had tried to explain to her. There was something purely instinctual about her reactions. It wasn't the higher brain that was guiding this encounter. In fact, she felt that first glimpse had been of the primal spirit that lay at the heart of the slayer.
Gently pulling out of the redhead's grasp, Buffy shook herself off and replied nervously, "Umm...wow. No, we should go home." After offering a hand, she headed purposefully toward the front entrance of the cemetery.
Matching pace with the blonde, Willow gently prompted, "That what you meant?"
Buffy nodded and tried to press down the feelings of guilt that started to surface. Finally she glanced at the redhead. Seeing the expectant expression on her face, she cleared her throat and hesitantly murmured, "It's been getting worse." Her head bowed to stare at the ground directly in front of her as they moved. After a few moments of silence she managed to sort through the clutter enough to tentatively voice, "I'm not even sure I get this well enough to—it's not something—" she paused, appearing frustrated. "I don't exactly understand it, Will."
Willow gave the blonde a concerned glance, then offered in a hushed sympathetic tone, "Just tell me what you feel."
"What I feel?" Buffy repeated, trying again to find a way to put the sensations into words. Her hand went up to wipe her brow, then she tried again, "It didn't used to be this way. I had more control," she sighed, sounding more annoyed than wistful, "I guess, as I've gotten older, the slayer's—I dunno...maybe gotten stronger? Like the thing that happens with vamps: they get older and they get more bumps on their forehead. They get more powerful—the demon. The slayer's not a demon though, is it?"
"I don't think so. I mean—not an expert—but you'd think... Giles said it was a primal spirit. Though, Buffy, the word demon is from the Greek word, 'daimon.' What it actually means is 'guiding spirit' or 'lesser deity,' so...the terms are sorta mixy-matchy," Willow replied pensively.
Buffy gave the redhead a bewildered sideways glance.
Having just reached their home, Willow guided the slayer to sit next to her on the porch. "So when the slayer takes over—like when you're fighting—when it's closer to the surface...you have trouble controlling it?" she offered cautiously.
Her brow creased and Buffy let out a deep sigh. "No, but yes... I mean, it's me. I control the fighting. It's other stuff—more emotional stuff. It's like the two things aren't mixy. Like drinking and driving."
A look of comprehension washed over the witch's features. "Ahh... So what you're saying is that the slayer takes control, the animal—like you said before."
"Yeah...pretty much; but it's not just that, it's more. It's like it got a taste and when it sees a chance...like with you that first night. It felt the attraction and suddenly..." Buffy commented, trailing off at the end in embarrassment.
"Does this happen with—" Willow suppressed a cringe, not sure she wanted to know the answer. Her voice cracked as she completed the thought, "With other people?"
"Depends—it's like it has some concept of—" Buffy offered, breaking off to fish for the right word. Finally, she added, "Mate? I mean, I guess that's right." Her head dropped into her hands and she stared at the concrete step. "If I'm dating someone, it's actually better. When I'm not...it picks up on attraction and..." Seeming utterly perturbed, she growled, "Badness."
It hadn't really occurred to her that Buffy might be attracted to Spike. Another light went on and Willow spoke without really thinking, "So that's what happened with Spike?"
Buffy nodded. Her head sagged deeper into her hands to hide the returning humiliation. It made the effect even more pronounced when she spoke softly through her hands, "Thing is, I've not exactly been with someone that was just human since Parker. I'm not sure—it scares me. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I may've hurt him—wasn't much for caring at the time. Not after—" A tear slipped out, fueled by the frustration and shame. She growled, wiping her face furiously.
Willow placed a hand on the slayer's back and started to soothingly rub it. She whispered, "Do you trust me, Buffy?"
"What?" Buffy turned to meet the witch's gaze and replied, "Yeah...of course I do, Will... Why?"
"Then believe me when I say you won't hurt me," Willow stated with certainty. She rose to her feet and offered a hand down. "Come on, let's go check on Dawnie." Once the slayer was standing, she whispered, "Then bed." After fishing the key out of her pocket, she opened the front door and ushered Buffy inside. "Was that part of the waiting?" she asked while she shut the door and locked it.
Buffy nodded and started quietly up the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she replied honestly, "I was serious about the distance, but part of it was." At the landing she fell utterly silent. After cracking the door and peeking into Dawn's room, she made her way to her room to get ready for bed. After a quick pass through the bathroom, she curled up next to the redhead.
Willow reached over and turned off the lamp. "So is it ever just you?" she asked pensively as she turned toward the slayer, naturally settling into the curve of her shoulder.
"Of course," Buffy replied, sounding as though she was shocked by the question. Her hand automatically rested on the redhead's temple. She started to stroke her hair as she whispered, "Gentle is me. The rougher it gets—if we're fighting...but unless it's really bad, I'll remember and be able to control. Like with the arguing." Her voice strained as she admitted, "If it's really, really violent I...well, I don't remember much." A deep sigh crept out as she debated whether to continue. Finally, she just said it, "And that's what happened. I woke up in the basement of an abandoned house staring up through a hole in the floor."
A soft gasp slipped out before the witch managed to control it. "A hole? Like one you made, or—?"
Buffy didn't want to answer, but she knew that Willow would be eternally curious if she didn't have all the pieces. It was part of what she loved about her. At the same time, it could be damned inconvenient. Shame sullied her features again when she responded in a soft, distant manner, "Dunno, Will. I guess so. The house was completely trashed: holes in the walls, broken wood, and crumbled plaster all over. I mean, I remember fighting. I sorta remember the kiss...then not so much after that." She cleared her throat again, hoping her voice would stop cracking. "It was horrible. I've never been so—" She fell silent, uncertain which adjective fit best.
Willow lay quietly for a few minutes, reflecting on the details of the conversation, then she whispered, "So this 'mate' thing?"
"Regular, violent sex, Will—the more, the better," Buffy replied in a soft, flat voice, turning her head away from the witch. Her gaze fixed on an empty spot on the wall and she continued, her voice drenched in sarcasm, "Riley wigged when I bit him. Otherwise, he was fine with fucking my brains out. Gotta hand it to Maggie Walsh, bitch knew a how to build a monster." Then her eyes welled up with tears. "Course—go figure—what I want is gentle...hopelessly normal." She laughed mirthlessly. "Tastes differ a little." She started to pull away and leave, but Willow held her in place. "Will, I can't—" she gasped through the tears. "You don't get it. It's getting worse, not better," she pleaded as she tried to pull away.
Willow wrapped around the writhing blonde, then offered patiently, "I don't care, Buffy."
"I'm not—a human lover was... It's a bad idea, Will," Buffy stumbled over the words, still trying desperately to flee. I was stupid to want something for myself. Not wanting to hurt WIllow, she kept the slayer in check.
Then her body froze. She struggled, using all of her strength to break free, but she couldn't move.
"You won't hurt me," Willow replied in the same patient tone while she rolled away from the blonde to make her point. When she felt the slayer finally relax, she turned back and asked, "You gonna be good?"
Buffy was still panicked, but she grudgingly answered, "Yes."
"Good 'cause I'm tired," Willow replied with a grin. She nestled her head in the curve of the slayer's shoulder and moved her arms so they were wrapped around the blonde.
Her brow wrinkled when the witch posed her, then Buffy asked sheepishly, "Will, are you gonna—?" I'm glad she loves me. This is pretty sick.
"Huh?" Willow gasped, feigning forgetfulness. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, giving her away.
Buffy couldn't quite make out the word the witch next muttered under her breath, but she was grateful to be able to move just the same. Solvah? Solvo? Something like that. Her hand went back to smoothing the soft red hair as she comment through the smirk, "That was mean." Strange, but it's good to have her back. This feels like Willow. I kinda thought I'd wig over the magick, but she seems okay.
"You said you trusted me," Willow whispered sleepily.
***********
Her body crashed through the rickety bedside table, sending pieces of wood flying across the dingy little bedroom. Just kill me and get it over with!
Spike watched the blonde as she lay on the floor bleeding. Not a bloody whimper. "You'll talk if I have to..." He trailed off, walking over and picking Buffy up by her hair. There was a slight wince, but her mouth remained clamped shut. In frustration, he spat, "Look, you thick little bint, all you have to say is 'stop.' " He threw her against the far wall, watching her slide down into the floor. "I can't bloody believe you. One sodding word, that's all."
Fuck you, Spike! Buffy tensed her jaw muscles, biting back the pain. Her gaze fell on the floor at his feet. She watched with one good eye as his boots paced furiously back and forth. It was so funny that she had to stifle a smile and a laugh. She'd defeated the mighty William the Bloody by effectively doing nothing. One-quarter of The Scourge of Europe and he was putty in her hands. If he kills me, I've won, she reflected as the boots drew nearer.
Spike looked down at the pitiful mess at his feet. Better than half her body would be bruised by morning. Her eye was already swollen shut and an angry looking split ran the length of her cheek. Pity, that. She'll have a scar when it heals. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up, then tossed her on the bed.
Buffy bounced off the old mattress and slammed into the headboard. After a moment, she curled up in a fetal position, waiting for his next move. He seized her ankle and dragged her over the edge of the bed. Her feet hit the floor and she almost sighed. Great, so his brilliant solution is to fuck me again. She heard his belt slide through the loops and felt the first lash seconds later. No, he's gonna beat me then fuck me. He needs new material. She winced as the belt cut into her flesh and she clamped her jaws tight again. It didn't last long, only twenty or so lashes, then he pressed inside. She wasn't surprised when he pulled out and, without a word, started to sodomize her. It had become a way of life. Anything to get a rise and nothing worked. Just when she thought it was all the same, all predictable, something new happened and she was delighted. Her body jerked upright and pain shot through her neck. This is it. I've won. Blackness came so quickly and she was grateful.
I'll get a rise outta the bitch. Not even bothering to pull out, Spike bit his wrist and shoved it in the blonde's mouth. Make her a demon, she'll talk to me then. May curse the ground I walk on, but the bitch'll talk. A wicked grin twisted his features when Buffy started to drink. Doubtful, that...most young worship their sires. Pissed about enough, I'm due a little worship. He moved back, pulling his cock almost out, then thrust back inside her. His body tensed and he moaned, starting to pump against her again while she drank. As her body clenched in the throws of death, he tensed and seized in one of the best orgasms of his unlife. I'll show her.
***********
Buffy startled awake, unable to breathe. Her heart crashed in her chest and she couldn't move. The spell! But she ended it? She wanted desperately to laugh when Willow rubbed her nose and mumbled something nonsensical about peacocks. Suddenly she felt lighter than air. Peacocks? She blinked furiously, trying to clear her eyes as she drifted up over the bed. She brought her hands up to stare at them. A gasp slipped out when she looked right through them at the two bodies in the bed below her.
"Oh...hell, no!" Buffy muttered, peering around the room. This is bullshit. Stroke, heart attack...brain aneurism, my luck... Human body's a delicate thing. Alright, where's this light we always hear about? Was there a light last time? After a second or two, it dawned on her, Willow. I've gotta wake her. Then she can revive me and... She drifted down closer to the bed and tried tapping on the witch's shoulder. Her hand passed right through. Aren't the living supposed to feel something cold when a ghost passes through them? She stuck her hand through the redhead's shoulder and held it there. Am I really a ghost? Willow didn't move, so she tried moving her hand just a little careful just to pass through muscle tissue. I'm afraid I'll hurt her. There was no response at all. Where's the annoying little brat that can see dead people when you need him? She snapped her fingers in front of the witch's face futilely.
Dawn. She moved to the door, grasping uselessly for the door knob. A frustrated growl slipped out then she passed through the door and down the hall. Once she entered Dawn's room, an urge struck her to simply walk through the sleeping teen. Didn't do crap to Will. Might as well. Maybe it's a shock thing. After making three passes through her sleeping sister, Buffy was about fit to be tied. She stood square in the middle of Dawn's body and bounced up and down. Fuck! She looked at the clock. It's been more than five minutes now. Even if she could get me back...
In disgust, she passed right through the wall and both beds. Making her way across the room, she drifted to the floor and stood with her arms crossed. A feeling of helplessness consumed her as she stared at the redhead wrapped around her body in the bed. This is gonna kill her. We were just starting, trying to get it figured. I didn't even get to touch her. It's not fucking fair. Not going anywhere. They'll have to drag me off. She wanted to cry, but found she couldn't.
***********
It was nearly light out when Buffy came to. Fuck! That piece of shit! He's so fucking dead! The collar and leash were still in place and, when she moved, she became aware of some supplements to the bondage package. She looked at the manacles on her wrists, then carefully rubbed the tender side of her face. This is gonna suck.
Spike leaned forward in an old chair—one of the few unbroken pieces of furniture in the shabby little room—and remarked, "Couldn't have you just wandering free, pet. Not till I know."
Buffy considered this for a moment. If I'm ever gonna—I gotta play. She bit back the bile that rose in her throat and turned toward him. "S'okay, Spike, I get that," she said in her sexiest purr. The look on his face was priceless. He swallowed the hook; need to reel him in now.
The voice was like music to his ears, but Spike was leery. She's still pretty banged up...bound to be brassed off...or is she?
After a brief struggle, Buffy managed to sit up. The chain between her ankles was way too short for her to do much more than shuffle if she tried to walk. She rose to her feet as gracefully as she could under the circumstances. Every inch of her still ached, but she struggled across the room and kneeled at his feet, laying her head in his lap. I may puke. "I'm hungry, Spike," she whined pitifully. Yup...gonna barf. I need to be stronger. Know the game, time to play.
"Right. There's blood in the fridge," Spike replied cheerfully as he carefully moved the blonde aside and rose to his feet.
***********
Buffy woke up feeling like she'd been kicked by a mule. No, not a mule; Glory or that creepy Adam. Damn, my head hurts. Was that a dream? Gonna take a stab and say 'no.' No clue how I got back here, but I'm glad to be. Her fingers smoothed the silky red hair of her sleeping witch. Very glad to be. A tear slipped out and she mopped it away. Do I tell her? It'll scare the hell outta her. No, I may tell Giles, but not Willow. I can't...she'd totally wig. Her hand slipped down under the covers to caress the redhead's back through the thin nightgown. She gently drew the garment up. This is stupid. I died last night—like, really—had to be—without knowing. Every muscle ached as she caressed the witch's soft skin, but she didn't care. Let's see if we can sneak this in before I die again for no good reason.
Willow stirred awake with a quiet moan as she became acutely aware that someone was fondling her left nipple. Her eyes blinked open to meet a subtle grin on the slayer's face and she rolled invitingly onto her back.
Morning breath—and I still don't care. Buffy turned on top of the redhead and gave her a gentle, tentative kiss. She doesn't care either. The kiss deepened, tongues massaging, lips caressing and drifting. She raised herself up on her arms. Ow! Her lips glided over the surface of her lover's cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw. Her balance was a little off when she sat up on her knees and whipped the flannel pajama top over her head, but she ignored it. Reaching down, she seized the collar of the thin gown the witch wore and tore it down the center. My god, she's gorgeous. Lucky me, she's been wearing less and less to bed.
Still a little groggy from sleep, Willow wasn't sure what to think. So, now seems like a good time? 'Kay...I'd sorta hoped for more candle-light and the sappy stuff, but...this works... Before she knew it, she had a naked blonde pinning her to the bed. S'pose this'll do. Good way to wake up. A throaty groan slipped out when the slayer lightly nibbled at her neck. Yeah...this works. She ran her nails down the blonde's back.
Buffy shivered and the skin on her back tingled under the witch's touch. Her muscles twitched, sending a mix of pleasure and pain, when the redhead seized her ass and raised a thigh into her sex, grinding against the tender flesh. She was completely unfazed. I have to know. She ran her tongue along the witch's collarbone, leaving a line of kisses in her wake.
Her body arched when the slayer pressed against her, seizing her right nipple. Willow relented, allowing her lover to have her way. A moan drifted lazily through her parted lips when the blonde moved hastily on. Before she knew it, the same eager mouth was drawing a line down her stomach. Her body quivered as the slayer parted her thighs and traced the length of her center.
God yes! Buffy pressed her lover's thighs into the mattress, spreading her open like a flower. Every bit as good as she smells. I've been dying to know. Her tongue pressed greedily inside and her witch moaned. Music. She withdrew, coming to rest on the little nerve bundle. Her hands pressed against the sensitive flesh, gently parting it like a curtain. She pulled back for just a second to look and Willow shivered in protest. Every inch of her—just perfect. She nestled back into the silky pink folds and started to lovingly caress the tiny nub with her tongue. Her lips tensed to shield the tender skin from her teeth, then she pressed down, carefully pulling the delicate flesh into her mouth. When her tongue flicked over the engorged cluster, her witch shook, seizing the headboard. Hands clamping over the wood surface actually made an audible clap and Buffy had to restrain a smile. Her lover's stomach muscles tensed, pressing the neat mound of auburn curls into her nose. A chuckle almost slipped out, but she bit it back.
Willow's back muscles trembled when her lover pressed gently inside. The rhythm was sweet and tender at first, escalating as the seconds ticked by.
Each stroke increased in intensity and Buffy carefully curled her fingers slightly to brush, then tap the most sensitive spots. She clamped her lips down, applying more pressure with her tongue as the cadence hastened. She's done. A harsh flick of her tongue and the prediction came true when Willow cried her name. The bed shook and Buffy basked in the glow of passion cascading from her witch. Her fingers pressed against the knurled flesh, massaging to draw the orgasm out. Her touch lightened, becoming tender again, then she withdrew, leaving her lover gently quivering. A moment of orneriness prompted her to exhale a stream of warm breath across the moist, tender flesh. She chuckled softly when Willow shuddered.
Willow reached down and bodily pulled the blonde up to face her. Seizing her in a passionate kiss, she tasted herself on her lover's lips.
Buffy drifted off as her witch kissed her. It was perfect. When she was finally released, she smiled and whispered, "Morning." So far...so good...trembling redhead...and I'm in pain, so...still alive.
"Umm..." Willow replied vacantly. Her mind was running like three rats in a maze, all trying to get to the same piece of cheese. Umm? Well, that was...I may need notes to catch up, but I'm guessing the waiting got old? Finally, she rolled the slayer off of her and sat up to discard the remains of her nightgown over the edge of the bed. Settling against her lover's body, she managed, "Waiting?"
"Wait over," Buffy whispered with a subtle smile.
"'Kay...catching up... But where? Umm...how? I mean, Buffy..." Willow babbled, trying to make sense of what she'd just experienced. The feeling that she'd just been run over reflected on her features. I sorta expected some nice fumbling...warm up stuff. Her body tingled when the slayer ran her nails over the surface of her back.
Having Willow just tucked up against her felt so good that Buffy really didn't care whether things went any further or not. It was nice to just be together in the moment. She slipped her hand behind her head, propping herself up slightly, then offered good-naturedly, "I told you, Will, my first lover was a woman. Didn't plan it—just worked that way."
Her brow furrowed as Willow studied her lover's face. "'Kay...but I thought it was just teenage experimentation when you told me," she remarked in a tentative voice.
Her muscles still ached, but Buffy continued to caress her witch's back in spite of the pain. A soft, sentimental smile played at the corners of her mouth as she reflected, "It was, but then it wasn't. I loved her, Will. Actually, I still love her. Always will, I guess...like Angel."
"Did Angel know?" Willow queried curiously. This is so weird. I thought the Hellmouth was all full of strangeness and surprises; it's got nothing on Buffy.
Buffy snickered. "Of course not. Why would I tell him? He had the impression he was my first. That's like a huge deal for guys. And he was, really. I mean, I'd never been with a guy, so...not an unreasonable assumption." As she spoke, her mood grew more serious, then she sighed. "Her name was Cassandra. She's the reason I didn't fail history at Hemery. Sensing a theme?" An amused grin appeared then vanished and she anticipated the next question, simply answering, "No, no one else knows. I'm not so much for gossiping about my love life." She pulled her hand from behind her head and suppressed a wince while she moved it to her lover's waist. I'm wondering if they make enough aspirin. "I get the 'curious'—really do—but this should be about us," she whispered.
Willow came within inches of apologizing and stopped herself. No, no need. Funny, you look at her and see one thing... Instead, she silently slid her body on top of the slayer's and seized her lips in a hungry kiss. Her hand traced her lover's side. Time to see another.
Her body clenched and the pain evaporated when the redhead pressed her fingers inside. Oh god! The tempo was instantly ravenous; there was no pretense, no romance, just raw desire. Buffy trembled and pulled away from the kiss. Her legs wrapped around her lover's waist and she ground into the source of this sudden pleasure, pressing the hand deeper. A guttural groan erupted from her while her back arched and her head pressed hard into the pillow.
Willow's expression turned impish as she watched the reaction. Her lover was utterly drenched and so ready it wouldn't take much. She slowed the pace just enough to slip a third finger inside and her partner moaned her approval. Instant reciprocation was her only goal as she built the intensity of her movement. Soft hands seized her shoulders, trailing nails down her back. Their progress halted when they cupped her ass. She relinquished control, allowing her partner to guide the movement. Goddess, she's perfect. She studied the face of her mate as they moved together, the look of strained concentration gently twisted by extreme pleasure. Her free hand traveled up to caress the soft blonde hair and supple, tanned skin.
Buffy slowed the cadence enough to simply enjoy the sensation, dragging the experience out. Her hand traveled the length of her lover's back then she coaxed a tender kiss from the mesmerized witch between her own heavy gasps.
The hand that had strayed returned and Willow relented completely while she studied her lover's body. So close, she reflected, ignoring the temptation to manipulate the energy flow. She's enjoying just being...in the moment. I can see it on her face. Just existing, here, on the cusp, teetering at the edge...ready to fall... Very Buffy. The exchange was suddenly demanding: harsh thrusts instead of the languid rhythm. She closed her eyes and felt the surge build. Then, as it peaked, she guided the energy flow, holding it, altering its course, guiding it to change her own. Her body clenched and writhed in harmony with her lover's. She stifled her own cries by seizing the slayer in a passionate kiss. She shoved her arm around the slayer's back, crushing their bodies together.
Buffy followed the example and instinctively her arms wrapped tightly around the witch. She was utterly lost, consumed by the exchange. As her lover's orgasm ended, she was ensnared by another. Her body clenched and shuddered completely outside her control. She heard her own involuntary cries but was unsure which one of them was making the sound.
Willow continued to move their bodies together at a gentle pace to feed the exchange. She channeled the energies through another complete circuit, supplementing them as they coursed. As the next orgasm seized hold of her, she dropped her head onto the pillow next to Buffy's. It was as much as she could take. Spasms wracked her form. The last ounce of remaining strength went to forcing the flow back to its source.
OH GOD! Buffy felt like she might be pulled apart, but in a good way. Her witch lay wilted on top of her as the cascade crashed over her. Suddenly overcome with the sensation she might drown, she reflexively gulped for air. Every muscle tensed and locked when she sensed her witch slipping her fingers free. Her hands shot up to the headboard to steady the violent tremors. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. She fell utterly limp and useless underneath her lover. I may never move again.
After a moment, Willow found the energy to roll off the slayer. Their bodies were completely drenched and the gentle air flow felt good against her sweaty, puckered skin. She absently raised her shriveled, sticky, and very-nearly-crushed fingers to her lips, breathing in the musky scent. Her finger slipped between her parted lips and she savored the taste.
Buffy was afraid to move. Instead she lay utterly still and quipped, "'Kay, so...got that it might be a little different with you, but there should be a label or something. Caution: sex with witch may lead to paralysis."
"Yeah, yeah... I tore it off 'cause it itched," Willow replied with a wry grin and a soft snicker.
***********
The heavy manacles collided with his head a second time and his vision went fuzzy. Spike mumbled "Bugger," then fell on his face in the middle of the floor. When his eyes opened again, he was stuck by the immediate sensation that many things were very wrong with his world. The first was the severe anguish from the two collarbones that had just been snapped like twigs.
Buffy smiled from the chair in the corner of the room. Spike's clothes fit her rather poorly, but she planned to fix that as soon as it grew dark out. Until then, simply occupying the time by repeatedly breaking bones and watching them heal would be sufficient.
Spike looked down at his battered form. If he could move his arms, it would do him little good. The blonde had chained them looped around his right leg, then shackled his ankles together. I'm done up like a kipper. What now, William? Beg the lady's forgiveness? Maybe move on? He screamed when his pelvis snapped under another brutal blow. His head lolled back and the world around him went dim again.
***********
I'm coming down firmly against ever standing again. It's bad and wrong. Buffy fell back onto the bed. The muscles aches hadn't improved and she felt decidedly sick.
Willow put on her robe and glanced back at the blonde. "Showers can be good," she prodded, trying to motivate her partner to get up.
"Showers involve standing. Right now, standing...not so much a good," Buffy replied. So, what now? Can't exactly tell her I'm sick—what with the... After a few moments of internal debate she tried to rise again and immediately fell back. 'I'm sick' always means research too. Major badness. She growled in frustration and tried again with the same results. "You sure we can't just stay in bed? I'll make it worth your while." A glance up yielded the effect she expected. Willow was standing at the door watching her with one of those priceless expressions of concern and interest plastered over her face.
Willow quirked an eyebrow and muttered, "Spill."
Shit! "Umm...well?" Buffy stuttered, searching desperately for a workable fabrication or some other way out of her current predicament. She focused and tried to stand again. This time she swayed back and forth for a few moments before she got too dizzy to stand.
Willow rolled her eyes and moved back across the room.
Willow's face reflected tolerance, amusement, and mild exasperation, all the same time. Buffy wondered how she could manage all that at once as the witch pushed her back into bed and pulled the covers over her. The back of a soft hand pressed against her cheek then across her forehead.
"No fever," Willow remarked distantly then took a seat on the bed. "So you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?"
"Will," Buffy whined. The appearance of the witch's face shifted with annoyance. Well, can I really it make worse? She considered this for a moment. Umm...yes. Absolutely. Gifted in that department. A frustrated sigh slipped out and she remarked, "I just don't want you upset," she grinned awkwardly, "Bit late?" The redhead raised her eyebrow again and Buffy reflected, Yup, got the talent. She glanced down at the bedcover as she whispered sheepishly, "I kinda died last night."
"What?" Willow spat and sprung out of bed, starting to pace and fume. "Y-you w-what?" she stuttered nervously.
Buffy winced then commented in a small voice, "Heart stopped, I floated out of my body. I tried to wake you, but, well...what with the 'ghost' thing..." Yup clearly worse.
"And the—?" Willow stumbled as she motioned at the bed.
Buffy answered by appearing shamefaced.
Willow stopped dead in her tracks and turned toward the bed then she seethed, "So, you wanted me to kill you again? Channeling energies...playing with your chakras—"
"It was umm...wow," Buffy gasped and averted her gaze. She couldn't bear to look at the redhead. Oh boy...way worse. "It was the one thing I wanted most," she mumbled. Her muscles ached a little more from the exertion of trying to stand, but she pushed it aside and moved a hand from under the covers. As she fidgeted with the bedspread, she remarked guiltily, "It wasn't normal. I mean a normal, human type of thing."
"What makes you say that?" Willow asked with curiosity, reclaiming her place on the bed. Her breathing grew deeper and more purposeful as she tried to press the severe anxiety down.
Buffy heard the change and looked up to meet her witch's gaze. "It's pretty simple, Will. I was out of my body long enough I should be more brain dead than usual. Pretty much the same old...'cept for the muscle aches, headache, and lack of balance."
Willow prompted patiently, "How long?"
"Hour and a half, two hours...something like that... I was bored out of my mind...along with the angry and scared. I've had better nights. Then I woke up. No clue how I got back," Buffy sighed, appearing aggravated herself. "Imagine for a sec, hanging around, looking at your own—" a tear slipped out "—c-corpse in the arms of—" She started to weep and Willow pulled her into a tight embrace. Finally, she gathered enough strength to choke through the tears, "It was a gift, Will—a chance—so I took it."
A wave of guilt stole over Willow. "I get it," she replied soothingly as she caressed the slayer's back. After taking a deep breath she sighed and offered, "I'm sorry. I just—if I'd hurt you—"
Buffy forced herself calm. "You didn't hurt me." She sighed and wiped her face. "I'm hoping this'll just go away. By this afternoon might be useful."
"Why?" Willow pulled back to meet the slayer's gaze, "Oh, job interview."
Buffy nodded, appearing slightly irritated again. "Nothing can be just simple."
Willow offered her partner a sympathetic gaze, then suggested, "How about we get you up—hot bath and breakfast—see if that helps? I'll change the sheets while you soak. Might make for less achey...and less-icky sheets are always good."
Her expression relaxed, then Buffy nodded again in agreement.
*****WARNING: VIOLENT CONTENT BELOW*****
Spike woke with his face hanging through the doorway to the bedroom. His chest was over some sort of shallow, thick-black-plastic box that was sitting on top a larger box. He'd been bent over the couch which had been pushed up against the doorframe. Every once in a while, something brushed against his chest and it tickled. He bit back the urge to laugh; whatever was going on was decidedly not funny. Tentatively, he tried to move a leg and it felt like he had attempted to rip his own arms off. He looked down and, sure enough, two thick pieces of chain ran from his wrists, disappearing under the couch where they were obviously secured to his ankles, holding them tight against the back of the couch. He heard someone pacing in the room the couch and most of his body was still in. He tensed.
Nightmares ran through his mind about what Buffy might be up to. Spike could guess from his position, nakedness, and the sound whirring behind him, what part of it might be. Then his body twitched when the belt snapped across his thighs, catching his scrotum and sending pain coursing through him. He screamed in agony. His shoulders and ankles were painfully wrenched when his hands involuntarily tried to move to protect his jewels. The second blow wasn't nearly so bad—at least, he didn't feel as much. After another twenty blows, he could smell the blood and feel it running down the backs of his legs. There was a loud crashing noise and Buffy stepped in front of him, brushing the broken plaster off her leather jacket and pants.
A warm smile lit her face, then she commented, "Now, Spike, all you have to do is ask me to stop. It's just one little word."
"Bollocks. Right then, please stop," Spike pleaded in a strained voice. As he took in the harness and substantial dildo the small blonde wore over her pants, his mouth gaped open. Bloody hell!
"That I'll completely ignore." Buffy crammed the bulky phallus into Spike's mouth and listened to him gag. She extracted it before he had a chance to bite down. Stepping back through the hole she'd just made in the wall, she lined up behind him and thrust the dildo inside.
Spike screamed when she shoved the exaggerated piece of silicone into him. Eventually, after untold amounts of thrashing, his body mercifully gave out. When he woke up, Buffy had moved the bed in front of him and was laying there nude, casually masturbating, just out of reach. He started to enjoy the show, but there was little he could do about it.
Buffy purred, "I gotta hand it to you, pet. Thanks for the clarity. All I give a shit about now is killing vamps and getting off. Pretty much in that order." Plunging three fingers inside, she began a harsh rhythm, ignoring the vampire as he drooled mere inches away. Her cries soon filled the room.
When she rose, Spike noticed that she still had on the collar, though the D-rings were gone.
Not bothering to dress, Buffy walked through the hole in the wall. She crossed the room to the kitchen table and put a foot up on one of the chairs. A soft gasp issued from her as she pressed a small vibrator inside herself and grabbed the remote, flipping it on low. Her body clenched with appreciation. She picked up a long, serrated knife. "Y'know, I was never much for school," she commented offhandedly while she buckled the harness back in place. She drove the stout phallus into the other vampire again.
Spike cried out again and Buffy grinned. "Like that?" she purred seductively as she pulled out, looking at the faint traces of blood. She pushed into him and began a sluggish tempo. "We had to read this book: 1984. Course I didn't do it—no time, y'know... 'Cause of you and a hundred other tragedies, I rented the movie. I made it to the scene with the rats. Know the one?" When Spike didn't answer save for a grunt, she increased the speed and severity of the pounding. She gulped in heavy breaths through her mouth for a moment as the gentle vibration and crushing against her sex started to feel good, then she pushed the sensation down. "Did you know that rats love blood? They're like little vampires. Nasty things." She drove the blade into his back, through his heart, and out his chest. She twisted it and pulled it back out. His screams were like music to her, so she stuck the knife in again, dragging it slowly against a rib on its way out. "Rats will chew through anything to escape a prison. They'll even cut through thin pieces of steel." She stopped moving mid-thought and waited for the fun to begin. Glancing at the knife, she shrugged and stuck it into his thigh. Another choked scream brought a bright sunny smile to her face. "You and me...we're gonna have such good times, pet," she said in a silky voice.
Spike felt the first bite into his bleeding chest and tried to move away. Noticing that the shallow box moved with him, he felt the pull of wide nylon straps on his back for the first time. Jesus suffering fuck! She tied the bleeding thing to me.
It became more than hopeless when Buffy kicked his feet apart, spreading his ass cheeks, so she could drive further in. She gave a good firm push and moaned contentedly. Then she clicked each of the three ratchet straps one more half-rotation to seal the box tightly to his chest. Leaning against him, she pushed the lower support box away.
Spike drooped over the couch and heard a furious scraping noise emit from inside of the shallow plastic trough. The rats were frenzied by the shift in position. They immediately began to claw and bite.
"So, I have this little bet going—with myself, of course; no one else here means a shit," she remarked nonchalantly as she began to pump leisurely against him again. "Shame, y'know... Wish you had a nice head of hair to run my fingers through. This'll have to do." Her hand reached down to casually grab Spike's throat and raise him up. "Anyway...I think I'll be able to fuck you till you turn to dust, without the annoying 'passing out,' if I'm careful. It's a rough call, though. I mean..." She flipped the vibrator to medium and an approving groan escaped her parted lips. She started to gasp as she moved into a rough, temperate pace. He was screaming in terror when the second orgasm surged through her. It was perfect.