Fic – Nocturnal Emissions – Chapter Six

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.

 

 

Giles was late returning. When he finally arrived, Buffy and Dawn were still stationed on either side of Spike’s chair, and Willow and Tara were in the middle of their third attempt to cast a dream spell. “No luck?” he asked, dropping a large package on the couch.

Willow shook her head. “We send G-rated entertainment, and he switches the dial to triple-X.” As she spoke, Spike started smiling and snickering again, and Dawn kicked him in the shin. He snorted and blinked blearily at Giles.

“We need another solution.” Tara looked almost as tired as Spike.

“And we need it fast.” Xander peeked into the living room from the hall.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “I told you, Xander, he was just teasing when he acted like he thought you were the succuba. And it’s not like he hurt you.”

“There is such a thing as mental scars,” retorted Xander, keeping his distance.

“Well, Rupert?” Spike stood up. “Have you got some magic bullet?”

“Not exactly.” Instead of answering, Giles indulged in a vigorous session of glasses cleaning.

“Oooh, that is a good idea!” Anya was pulling things out of Giles’ shopping bag. She held up a leather thong with some odd accessories.

Spike’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell, Rupert, that’s your solution? Novelties from the porn shop?”

“They’re not novelties, they seem very well constructed.” Anya was examining one. “Especially this stainless steel one.”

“The stainless steel what?” Buffy was also going through the bag, and she held up a plastic device. “This looks like a mason jar with a padlock.”

“They’re male chastity belts,” said Anya in an indulgent tone. “I used to recommend them to some of my clients.” She pointed at the one Buffy held. “I’ve heard of that new kind. They’re all plastic so that they won’t set off the buzzers in the airport scanners.”

Buffy dropped the apparatus on the couch as if it had burned her.

Dawn peered curiously at the one Anya held. “Why would anyone need that? Is it really so hard for guys to keep it under control? I mean, I know they all say it is, but I thought that was just a guy lie.”

“A guy lie?” asked Giles.

“Yeah, one of those things guys say even though no one believes them. Like when they talk about having sex the night before when their best friend already told you they were playing Super Mario Brothers, or when they say they’re not scared when they’re hiding behind you, or when they tell you they’re about to get a really great new car, but just for now they have to take you out in their mom’s minivan with the baby car seats in back. Guy lies.”

Giles turned to his Slayer. “Buffy, where has your sister been getting this libelous view of my sex?”

“Come on, Giles, she’s had years to observe Xander and Spike.”

Xander had been lured into the living room by curiosity about Giles’ purchases. “Okay, I get the theory. But what if Spike has, like, a superstrong vampire wang, and it breaks through that thing?”

Anya considered this seriously. “Hmm, maybe he should use the stainless steel one.”

“That looks awfully uncomfortable.” But Buffy seemed reconciled to the idea. “I don’t want to make him that uncomfortable. How about we use the plastic one with the alarm attached? That way, if he gets hard enough to start breaking through…”

“I’m not going to wear any of them!” Spike protested.

But Buffy’s expression was firm and it was clear to everyone in the room who would win the argument. “Come on, Spike, it’s got to be done. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll help.”

Anya the ever-practical chimed in. “Should you? Wouldn’t your being there make it, uh, harder?”

After some predictable wrangling, Spike gave in, snarling, “I’ll do it. On my own.” He snatched up the leather device and climbed the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster. “Anything for a good night’s sleep at this point.”

“If it gets too excited, you might try some ice water,” Anya called after him. “Or–“

Upstairs, the bathroom door slammed.

 

Chapter Seven

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/258891.html