Fic – Nocturnal Emissions – Chapter Eight

Fic: Nocturnal Emissions

Author: Miss Murchison

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Buffy thinks Spike has a problem. Spike thinks Buffy is jealous and needs a nap. As you can tell from the title, I have not been guilty of good taste.

No familiarity with the previous stories is needed, but this is set in the same ‘verse as Cubed, What’s in a Name?, If it’s Tuesday, this must be Sunnydale, and Giftless.

This is an alternative Season 6 where there is no angst. Assume Buffy didn’t die at the end of Season 5, or, if she did, she was glad to get back. Don’t go looking for any huge problems among the canon characters. They’re not there, although all is not sweetness and light. Which is good, because we all know how bad light is for Spike.

Length of completed story: About 9,000 words

Thanks: To my wonderful betas, keswindhover and revdorothyl, to enigmaticblues for the comm, and to my family for leaving me alone long enough to finish this story. Maybe they’ll repeat the favor so I can finally enjoy the other entries from this round.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine.

Two hours later, Buffy heard a knock on the bedroom door and, after making sure a blanket was thrown over Spike, she went to answer it. Tara and Willow were standing in the hall. Willow held a small bottle that had once held mayonnaise and was now full of misty blue stuff.

“Is that it?” Buffy stared at the potion.

“I hope so.” Willow passed it over. “Buffy, are you sure you want to do this? It’s not just the succuba. You’re going to be inside one of Spike’s dreams. A vampire dream. Who knows what that will be like?”

“I’m sure.” Buffy’s voice was firm even as the possibilities made her shiver. She’d save him. She might never speak to him again after she saw what was in his subconscious, but she’d save him.

Tara added earnestly, “Buffy, this should ensure that for you it’s a lucid dream, one where you know you’re dreaming and you can control what happens. But you’re going to have to be careful. If you die in that dreamworld, you’ll really be dead.”

Buffy watched the potion make pretty patterns in the jar. It was oddly soothing. “I’m more worried that she won’t really be dead if I kill her.”

“Well, the dreamworld is her real world, so, yeah, if you kill her, she stays dead.” Tara sounded positive.

Buffy assured them she’d be careful and shut the door. She set the potion down carefully on the table by the bed, then she pulled the covers off Spike. He’d been tossing and turning and had managed to wrap the blanket around one leg in the time she’d been talking to Tara and Willow.

“I’m sorry I’m late, mother,” he muttered. “I know I shouldn’t have talked to that girl. I could tell she was a pickpocket or worse, but then she bit my neck…”

Mother? Buffy wondered at this speech. His words and tone were absurdly at odds with his dissipated, not to mention kinky, appearance. Exhaustion had made him haggard and the belt…Buffy contemplated the black leather toy, its metal reinforced bindings restraining him tightly.

She untangled his leg from the blanket and let her fingers travel up his calf and thigh to run along edge of the thong. Unable to restrain her sense of mischief, she slipped one finger underneath to rub the pale skin and tug at a dark-blonde curl.

“Balls!” He was awake immediately, sitting up and grabbing at himself, at first confused by the belt, then, as he remembered why he wore it, angry.

“Ssh,” she pushed him down on the mattress. “I’m going to get that off you.”

“No!” He pushed her away. “Got to…you’re not Buffy.”

“Yes, I am.” She shoved his hands aside and reached for his waist again. “Stupid vampire.”

“You’re that Lily bitch! Showing up in my dream, pretending to be the Slayer, hiding in the one place where I can be–“

He drew back an arm to hit her, but she blocked his punch and landed one of her own squarely in his face. He landed flat on his back on the bed, holding his nose.

Be what? she wondered, as she undid the metal-reinforced straps before he could start fighting again.

But when he pulled a bloodied hand down from his face, he said, “It is you. My nose would recognize that fist anywhere.”

“Poor nose.” She wiped his hand and face with the sheet and undid the last of the buckles. He winced as she pulled the device away. She began stroking his sore skin. “Poor cock. Poor balls, trapped in that thing all day.”

He was lying back, watching her suspiciously. “You seem sorrier for my bits than the whole of me, love.”

She ran a finger along the underside of his cock, and it started to harden at the touch. “Well, I kind of liked the sight of all of you when you were wearing that thing. Maybe we should keep it after I get rid of Lady ‘Suck-Your-Bits’.”

“Controlling wench,” he said in a complaining tone, but with a smile. “And how are you going to get rid of her? By using me as bait?”

“Is it that obvious?” She wrapped her hand around his cock and bent down to give the head a lick. He bucked up and fell back, panting. She checked the result of her efforts and found it satisfactory.

“Mind letting me in on the next step in your plan, Slayer?”

“Now, you go to sleep.” Buffy reached over, picked up the jar by the side of the bed, and unscrewed the top.

“Yeah, because what you’ve been doing is so very soporific…” His voice trailed off as she waved the jar near his face and he inhaled some of the escaping blue mist.

Buffy screwed the lid back on the jar and watched him carefully for the signs Willow and Tara had described. It didn’t take long. Soon, Spike’s eyelids started to flutter, and his body went rigid.

Quickly, Buffy opened the jar again, inhaled the rest of the mist, made a face, and uttered the words of the spell, “Somnium tuo, somnium meo, somnium tuo, somnium meo.” I hope I got that ri…

Chapter Nine

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/259420.html