If it’s Tuesday, this must be Sunnydale: Epilogue

If it’s Tuesday, this must be Sunnydale

The story begins here.

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

Notes: Set in version of S6 that is so AU it’s nearly angst-free. Buffy either didn’t die at the end of S5 or was happy to come back. Everyone gets along, more or less, at least until someone gets a really nifty notion.

Rating: R, barely

Thanks: to keswindhover and revdorothyl for the beta, not to mention coming up with the plot bunny in the first place. I am wholly to blame for any errors. And thanks to itmustbetuesday for the comm, and because her name prompted me to think of a title at last.

I forgot to acknowledge Katharine Briggs’ Abbey Lubbers, Banshees & Boggarts in some earlier posts. (Wow, look at that price on a new copy! It looks like you can get used ones for a song, though.) I have several of her books of folktales, and after browsing through some of the stories in this one for the first time in many years, I’m tempted to reread the others. Several of the “demons” in my story are stolen borrowed from Briggs’ collection, although I’ve changed their habits, physical characteristics, and even their names to suit my purposes.

For a very different treatment of selkies, see also The Secret of Roan Inish.

 

Wednesday night

“Say you’re sorry again.” Buffy’s voice was stern.

“I’m sorry,” said Spike obediently.

“Because I deserve a really good apology.”

“That you do.”

“Good boy.” Buffy kissed him. “Would you like some more champagne?”

“No, thanks, love.”

“More for me, then.” She reached over the side of his bed and picked up her glass and the bottle from the floor. Then she plumped up some pillows and lay next to him, smiling contentedly. “I like this much better than that stuff in your flask. It was nice of you to get me this and the chocolates.” She reached down again and found a gold box. She frowned. “More than half gone now.”

“I’ll get you another box if—” Spike found himself trying to talk around a square of chocolate.

“These will do.” She kept poking at the contents of the box. “You have no idea how angry I was with you.”

“I’m getting the idea.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d invited half the cast of Lord of the Rings to prowl all over Sunnydale when you knew I was chasing a shapeshifter. Not to mention letting my little sister babysit them and using a magic map to track my movements.”

“Slayer, I told you, I didn’t think there was anything out there. How many times have those wankers on the Watcher’s Council been wrong?”

She picked out a dark chocolate and sat up again. “You mean like the time they told me there was a hell god on the loose?”

He was getting desperate. “I couldn’t tell you. I promised the Little Bit!”

“And because you promised Dawn something, you lied and lied and lied to me. Was that fair?”

Before he could bluster out an answer to that, she sat astride his hips and popped another dark brown square into his mouth. “Do you like that?”

“Mmmm.”

She licked a smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

“Like that even better. But, uh, love?”

“Yes? Mmmm.” She was kissing the side of his neck and rubbing her whole torso against his now.

“I’ve done the apology twenty times over, and I bought the chocolates and champagne without being asked, and I gave you all of my share of the money from the tour, barring what I needed to buy the bloody chocolates and champagne, and I’ve been apologizing in other ways for going on three hours now.”

“Yes, you have.” Kisses, nips and licks were being bestowed liberally on his neck and chest. “Those are all good things.” Gentle fingertips trailed down from his neck to his hip.

“So, I was wondering, love— Ah! Do that again.”

“Mmm?”

“I was wondering if you’d take the shackles off now.”

Her first response was a nip that made him tighten his grip on the chains anchoring him to the head of the bed.

“Absolutely—” said Buffy between licks.

“Ah—”

More nips and touches, a bit lower now. His back arched, his legs straining against the leather bands strapped to his ankles.

“—not!”

He gave a moan that wasn’t entirely motivated by her refusal. “Buffy! You said last time, that there was just one more thing—”

“Unless I came up with another thing.” For a representative of the forces of Good, Buffy could produce a very wicked grin. “And I have. Since I missed out on most of your adventures this week, I thought I’d take my own little tour of some of the evil that lurks in heart of Sunnydale.”

Spike gave up. After all, this was one tour he was likely to enjoy.

Thank you for reading!

 

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/168801.html