Happy 10th Anniversary, Seasonal Spuffy!!! And a very sincere thank you to everyone who keeps this community going!
I have one entry for today. Please, enjoy!
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Title: Dancing at la Bibliothèque
Summary: In yet another desperate attempt to pay the bills, Buffy gets a job at the Sunnydale Public Library. When Spike shows up with a stolen library card, expecting to be serviced, Buffy tries to turn him away, but Spike won’t take no for an answer. Season 6. Set between “Gone” and “Doublemeat Palace.”
Author’s Notes: I very much wanted to write something for the theme this round, but the story I intended to write would have been multi-chaptered and I knew I wouldn’t have time to finish it. Instead, I decided to finish a little ficlet that I started over ten years ago. It’s nice to finally be able to share it.
Disclaimer: Nope. I don’t own Spike or Buffy. Everything belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and whoever else has a legal right to it.
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“Zap books in, put books on cart. Zap books in, put books on cart,” Buffy chanted to herself rhythmically in a sing-song voice as she ran some recently returned books through the re-sensitizing machine and then dumped them unceremoniously on a nearby cart. She picked up the final stack of picture books – some Dr. Seuss, some Eric Carle, a couple of Maurice Sendaks – and ran them through the zapper, still lost in her mindless chant. “Zap books in…” As Buffy turned to place the last pile on the small rolling cart, she caught a glimpse of one of her fellow clerks out of the corner of her eye. Although there wasn’t any actual tsking, Buffy could hear it as clearly as if the woman had actually made the god-awful sound. Oh, big surprise, heaping mounds of disapproval for Buffy. As soon as the woman turned away, her censorious stare coming to an end, Buffy shoved the books on the cart and ended her song with a very deflated, “put books on cart.”
It had been a week since Buffy had started working at the Sunnydale Public Library. It wasn’t her dream job, but it was certainly better than working at the Doublemeat Palace. If this job didn’t work out, that’s exactly where she’d end up, so she was going to do her best not to get fired. Even though this job was mind numbingly boring, she didn’t have to wear a uniform, she didn’t have to go home smelling like mystery-meat, and she didn’t have to service people like…”
“Oh, God,” Buffy groaned as she saw Spike approaching the circulation desk. Why, why, why? Why did he have to follow her everywhere she went? What the hell was he doing in the public library? He had no right being there. It was the middle of the afternoon, he should be home, in his crypt, sleeping or, at the very least, doing evil vampire things. Vampires didn’t go to the public library, it was one of the reasons Buffy had taken the job in the first place.
Buffy looked around, hoping that one of her coworkers would take him, but both women were suddenly MIA. Buffy turned back to the counter just in time to see Spike drop a large stack of books down in front of her. There was a sly smile on his lips, as if he knew he was getting away with something and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“Hello . . .” he leaned over the counter as if pretending to read her badge, “Miss Summers. Isn’t it a lovely day?”
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest defensively and cocked her head to the side. She couldn’t help it, Spike brought out the worst in her. “It’s cloudy.”
“Yeah, I know.” His smile widened. “A perfect day for taking a walk, don’t ya think?”
Of course, Spike would love cloudy days. On cloudy days, he could go out during daylight hours, the cloud coverage keeping him from bursting into flames. It was hardly ever anything but sunny in Sunnydale, but today was Buffy’s lucky day.
“What do you want, Spike?”
His tongue played with the back of his teeth, sending an unconscious shiver down her spine. The things he could do with that tongue. Buffy shook herself, refusing to fall under his spell.
“I think you know what I want,” he said softly, seductively, and Buffy’s whole body flushed warmly.
She focused on the stack of books he had dropped in front of her, determined to look at anything but Spike and his stupid sexiness. Lying on top of the pile was a library card. “Who’d you steal this from?” Buffy asked as she picked it up and looked for the name, answering her own question. She looked up at Spike, skewering him with her eyes. “Xander?”
Spike shrugged. “What? I just borrowed it. The whelp wasn’t usin’ it anyway. Spends too much time watchin’ porn to be interested in reading.”
“I’m just gonna take this,” Buffy said as she stuck the card into the pocket of her sweater. “And you’re going to take these,” she said, pushing the stack of books toward him, “and put them all back.”
Spike snickered. “No, I’m not. And I’d like my library card back, please.”
“It’s not your library card.”
“Yes, it is. I stole it. That makes it mine.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Put them back.”
Spike grinned in challenge. “Make me.”
Buffy picked up the books and shoved them at Spike, slamming them against his chest. When she let go, she expected him to grab them, but he didn’t, and they all went crashing onto the countertop.
There were more looks of disapproval for Buffy as everyone within hearing distance turned and glared at her.
“I think it’s your job to clean that up,” he said with infuriating nonchalance.
Buffy started stacking up the books under the watchful eye of her coworkers who had somehow magically returned just in time to scowl at her. When the books were all neat again, she glared up at Spike with murder in her eyes. He looked perfectly pleased with himself and she was ready to stake him.
“Now,” Buffy said in a low, quiet voice, “take them back before I grab one of those pencils over there,” she nodded to the cup sitting on the edge of the desk, “and use it to turn you into a big, annoying pile of dust.”
Mrs. Carter, one of the other clerks, came forward and asked, “Is there something wrong?”
“No,” Buffy said quietly. “We’re all done here.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, dear. I was talking to Mr. Harris.”
Spike cocked an eyebrow at Buffy and she wanted to slap him. Then, he turned to Mrs. Carter and said, “Everything’s okay, Mitsy. Miss Summers was just going to help me put these books back.”
“That’s not really her job—”
“Yes, but she’s agreed to help me anyway. Isn’t that nice of her?”
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt this one time. Buffy,” Mrs. Carter finally addressed her, “please help Mr. Harris put these books back. It’s the least you can do after the commotion you caused.”
Without answering, Buffy grabbed the stack of books and stormed out from behind the circulation desk. She headed toward the stairs leading down to the lower level, not waiting for Spike to catch up. When she reached the fiction section, she finally looked down at the books: Dickens, Elliot, Thackeray. They were all classic Victorian literature. Buffy was a bit taken aback, so much so, in fact, that she didn’t even realize it when Spike came up behind her, peering over her shoulder.
“Anything interesting, pet?”
Buffy swung around, nearly dropping the books. “How did you do that?”
“Get Mrs. Carter to agree with you and send me off on this ridiculous errand? You know, I’m not ever supposed to leave that counter, right? This is not my job.”
Spike smirked. “Yeah, but Mitsy and I go way back.”
“”Course. Been comin’ here for years, ever since I got this bloody chip. What else am I supposed to do at night when I can’t be out hunting living things like every other self-respecting vampire? I read. A lot.”
Buffy held up a volume of Dickens and looked at it skeptically. “Dickens? Really? I was expecting something a little more Reading Rainbow and a little less Masterpiece Theatre.”
“What? Just ‘cause I’m evil doesn’t mean I’m not literate. Bet I’ve read more of the classics than you,” he said with genuine bravado.
Buffy shook her head and turned around. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” she mumbled.
She moved to the Ds and shoved the copy of Bleak House back on the shelf. Then, she continued on to the Es. By the time she reached T for Thackery, they were all alone in the back of the stacks. Buffy realized, too late, just what Spike’s game was. When she turned around after shelving Vanity Fair, she found Spike standing mere inches away, his blue eyes already dark with need.
Buffy groaned. This wasn’t what she wanted. She had given in to Spike far too many times already and she had no intention of doing it again. No, she was going to be strong this time. Strong, stalwart Buffy. Not, weak, quivering mass-of-jelly Buffy.
“Wanna help me find a book, luv? Somethin’ educational, like the Kama Sutra or the Marquis de Sade?”
Buffy rolled her eyes and tried to step around him, but he moved in front of her just as quickly, putting his hands on the bookshelf behind her, on either side of her head.
Buffy sighed. “I don’t have time for this, Spike. I have work to do.”
“Yeah, real important work. Zap books in, put books on cart. The whole, bloody world would fall apart if you didn’t do your job.”
Buffy put her hands on his chest and pushed him out of the way. He stumbled back, but quickly regained his footing. She made it all the way to the end of the aisle before he caught up with her.
She turned around and glared at him. “What now, Spike?” She knew she should have kept walking, but the truth was, she had very little desire to return to the desk. At least listening to Spike beg for sex was more interesting than running books through the zapper.
“You don’t really wanna be doin’ this, do ya? It’s beneath you.”
“Well, the bills aren’t just going to pay themselves, now, are they?”
“Well, I might be able to help you out with that. Could nick a few quid off Xander—”
Buffy’s eyes went wide and Spike thankfully shut his mouth. “I don’t need your help. I need you to leave.”
Spike shrugged. “It’s a public place. I can stay here ‘til closin’, if I like.”
She shook her head. “Do whatever you want, Spike.”
“Really?” And before Buffy could respond, he moved in and kissed her.
Buffy was so stunned that she couldn’t even protest. A second later, Spiked pushed her up against the bookcase behind her and Buffy’s arms were instantly around his neck. She didn’t want this again, she really didn’t, and yet her body wouldn’t listen to her. She felt so dead inside, all the time. Having Spike touch her, his lips devouring her mouth, made her feel alive. It was the only thing that lit a spark in her. On days when he didn’t touch her, she felt as if she hadn’t lived at all.
Buffy opened her mouth, letting him taste her, tasting him in turn. She knew they shouldn’t be doing this. If they got caught, she’d be fired from yet another job, but she didn’t care. She hated working. She was the Slayer! She wasn’t supposed to have to worry about paying bills and making ends meet and being on time for work. Those were things that ordinary people worried about. Not the Slayer. She was supposed to worry about killing vampires, saving the world. It wasn’t fair that she had to worry about both. It was just another sucky part of her sucky life.
Spike slid his hand beneath her skirt and, for a split second, Buffy was tempted to protest. If she was going to give in to Spike, she’d prefer not to do it so easily. She wished she could fight him, at least for a little while. Push him away, punch him in the face, let him know that she really didn’t want this. But she couldn’t. They were in a public library. They couldn’t make any noise. And despite herself, Buffy found the challenge of having to stay deathly quiet while Spike brought her to ecstasy, impossibly thrilling. Normally, they brought down buildings when they had sex. Keeping the library standing and not getting shushed by the librarians was going to pose a bit of a challenge.
Buffy let Spike slide his hand upward. He slipped his fingers beneath her panties as his lips moved to her neck. Despite her best efforts to stay quiet, Buffy gasped. Spike slipped one finger insider her, and then another. Buffy gripped the back of his duster, digging her fingernails into the soft leather. She buried her head against his shoulder, biting the fabric of his coat to keep from crying out.
Desperate to have all of him inside her, she tore herself away and reached for the zipper on his jeans. Spike’s fingers stilled and their eyes locked as she pulled the zipper down. In an instant, she had his cock in her hand, hot and hard and throbbing.
Spike slid his fingers from within her and gripped her hips. Buffy released him and, a second later, he thrust his cock deep inside her.
Buffy bit her lip to keep from crying out. A rivulet of blood trickled into her mouth, landing on the tip of her tongue. Without any warning, Spike captured her mouth again, this time, sweeping his tongue inside and tasting her blood. A savage groan escaped the back of his throat and it almost made Buffy come.
Spike had never tasted her blood before. It was a dangerous thing to let a vampire taste your blood. But in that moment, Buffy didn’t care. She was glad, glad Spike had tasted her. At that moment, if he had tried to bite her neck, open up a vein, and suck her dry, she would have let him. She wanted him to taste her. It made their coupling so much more complete.
Spike ground his hips against her in a slow, steady rhythm. Buffy knew he was holding back, knew he was trying to keep them from getting caught. It was one of the most erotic experiences of her life, so much more thrilling than being able to scream at the top of her lungs. She pulled back again, biting her lip just hard enough to keep herself from crying. She was so close, she wanted to come so desperately. She hooked one leg around Spike’s waist to draw him in deeper. Spike took the hint and hoisted her up so that both her legs were wrapped around him, lost beneath his voluminous duster.
“Just a little more, pet,” he whispered. “You can do it. I know you can.”
Spike skimmed the blunt edge of his front teeth against the bare skin of her neck and Buffy instantly shuttered around him. He captured her mouth again, swallowing her cry of ecstasy. Then, a moment later, he came inside her, filling her deep with his cold, dead seed.
It took Buffy a moment to come back to reality. It wasn’t until her feet hit the floor again that she finally opened her eyes. Spike was staring down at her with such a look of love and wonder that it made her heart ache. Sometimes, she wished she was the girl he believed her to be. And sometimes, she wished that anyone but Spike was looking at her like that. She had never seen such love in any other man’s eyes. Not even Angel’s. Buffy wished things were different, a lot different. She wished Spike wasn’t the only person in the world who could make her feel alive.
“Nice work, luv,” he whispered softly. “Thought you were gonna give us away with your screamin’.”
Buffy was crashing back to reality. The endorphins were wearing off and she was just about ready to be rid of Spike. She tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Now, that’s no way to treat a bloke after just getting his rocks off. Is it, luv?”
“Next time, get your own rocks off.” She pushed harder this time and she was just strong enough to dislodge his hold on her. Buffy stormed away, but Spike followed.
“Don’t be so mad, pet. I just wanted to cuddle a little.”
She swung around, skewering him with her eyes. “Get out, Spike. Now.”
He shrugged. “All right, then. Got what I came for.” His eyes skimmed the entire length of her body. “Always do.”
Buffy took one step forward and punched him square in the face.
Spike flew back, hitting the bookcase behind him. Luckily, the books didn’t come crashing to the ground.
Buffy looked around, afraid someone might have heard, but no one came running. “Get out,” she repeated, her voice thick with warning. “Now.”
Spike cradled his nose, making sure Buffy hadn’t broken it. “I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” He took one long, last look at her, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “See ya around, luv.” Then, he turned around and sauntered back toward the stairs, his long, black coat billowing behind him in smug satisfaction.
Buffy collapsed against the stack of books behind her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get Spike out of her head, but the second her eyes were closed, she could feel his hands upon her again.
Buffy opened her eyes and pushed herself away from the bookcase. She still had three hours left on her shift. She was going to go back upstairs, forget all about Spike, and earn her minimum wage in peace.
She stuck her hands in the pockets of her sweater, to fortify her determination, and it was then that she realized they were empty. Buffy’s fingers curled into a tight fist. Xander’s library card was gone.
Damn, Spike. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted and what had she gotten? The chance to feel alive for a few, brief moments?
Despite herself, a small smile tugged at the corner of Buffy’s lips. No matter how much she hated Spike, the truth was, he had given her something today, something much more precious than what he had taken. He had given her life, for one, shining, glorious moment. And that one moment was going to have to see her through the long, lonely days ahead because, the next time Spike came sniffing around, she wasn’t going to give in to him. Never again.
So, Buffy made her way upstairs, a smile on her lips, the spark of life Spike had ignited in her still burning softly inside her. She knew with each passing moment that it would fade more and more, but she was determined to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/535858.html