Shot in the Dark
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
2,174
Reviews:
62
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
46
Views:
2,174
Reviews:
62
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2: Waking Dreams
* * * * *
Chapter 2: Waking Dreams
* * * * *
After another sweep through the cemetery for a few more demon encounters, Spike returns to his crypt, bloody, shirt torn, but satisfied.
“Now, THAT was fun!” Spike flings himself into an armchair, lately acquired from the dump. “Slayer wouldn’t whine so much if she just took a little more pleasure in her work.” He stretches his arms out, yawning. “All this violence leaves a fella a bit knackered, though. Dawn must be coming, too.”
Spike squints at the wall of the crypt, as if he could peer through the stone and see the deadly sun creeping over the horizon. Regardless, he can feel the sunlight coming, sapping hiergyergy.
“Nothing for it then to sleep, then.” Using his duster as a pillow, he lies down on top of a sarcophagus. Before long, his unnecessary breathing stills completely as he slips into sleep.
* * * * *
Cupid, chin on his hand, finally perks up. “Heavens, I thought he would NEVER go to sleep.” He reaches for his bow and arrow again, now that his target has become more vulnerable. Bowstring pulled taut, Cupid lets the arrow fly at Spike’s undead heart. As it strikes, he calls to Psyche, “Love, do you want to see the vampire’s reaction? Should be interesting.” Psyche stirs from her nap and comes to perch next to her lover, peering into the still pool.
Spike jerks upright at the sudden pain in his chest. His hand goes to his heart and finds nothing. However, he immediately begins to breathe faster. “Cor, ‘s weird. Can’t bloody well have a heart attack without a beating heart...” Spike is distracted by the strange sensations beginning to radiate through his body, his undead heart the source.
A warmth trickles down his chest and he rips his shirt open, half-expecting to see blood. But no, the feeling is internal. He runs his hands down his abs, following the sensation. It reaches his cock, which immediately springs to life, straining against the constraint of his black jeans. He groans, the suddenness of his erection nearly painful. The warmth continues to flow through his body, causing him to twitch and moan. He quickly unzips his jeans, releasing his throbbing cock, wondering at this dramatic attraction to...nothing?
Just as quickly, images begin to flash through his mind. Taut, bronze skin stretched over a narrow back, the groove of the spine catching the light. Small, pert breasts glistening with sweat, the droplets running down the finely toned abs. Tiny fingers caressing his face, his neck. Blond hair swinging to cover a face as this phantom straddles him in his mind. Exquisite moans as she rises and falls over his naked torso. Faster and faster, he clutches for her in his vision as his hands slide over his cock more and more quickly. Finally, with one great yell, he comes as his imaginary sex kitten screams and claws his chest. She throws her hair back and...
“Buffy!” Spike sits bolt upright, shaking his head furiously. He stares at the disarray of his clothes, the sticky wetness covering his chest. More disturbing are the visions in his head. “The Slayer? What the hell?!” He quickly jumps up, zipping his jeans. Grabbing his nearby shirt, he wipes off his chest and throws it into the corner. As he does when he is agitated, Spike paces the crypt.
“Sex dreams ‘bout the Slayer? That’s just wrong. Want to kill her, not shag her...though she does have the tightest little.. NO!” He roars in frustration, running both hands through his short blond hair. “What is this? She was...I wonder if she really looks...oh god. This has to stop right bleedin’ now . I don’t want her stupid hair and short little legs and perfect breasts running through my... WHOA! Okay. Simmer down, Spike. Just a dream.” He turns in tighter circles, hands on hips as he tries to regain control. “Just a bloody dream. Sometimes violence makes me horny, that’s all. Yes, that’s it. Had the nice big fight after a long lay-off - saw her tonight - so, she was just convenient. Convenient. Yep. DAMMIT!!” With renewed vigor, Spike paces, trying to ignore his completely unnatural, but accelerated breathing.
* * * * *
Psyche jumps up, clapping her hands in excitement. “That is so great, sweetie! Look, he went from loathing her to fantasizing about her in no time. I think he still wants to help her, but it takes time, right?” Her curls bounce as she jumps to her feet.
“That’s right, my dear. The arrows are quite powerful, but of a limited duration. I will let them simmer in these feelings for a few days before I replenish. They won’t know what hit them.” Cupid reaches forward, waves his hand over the pool, blurring the image of the agitated vampire, still pacing.
* * * * *
Buffy’s House, Morning
Buffy stretches long and hard, feeling satisfied. The sunlight pours through her windows, warming her bare skin. Bare skin? She looks down, suddenly remembering why she feels so satisfied. Her pajama top is ripped open, her silky bottoms loosened and wrinkled.
“Ohhh crap.” Buffy covers her eyes as the memories come back in detail.
Images of the blond vampire she hates dance through her mind. His ripped abs under her hands, his muscular arms gripping her. His lips kissing her in many, many places. An unconscious shiver runs through her body at the thought. “Stupid dream. I mean, gross. So so not of the good.” Her hands go to button her pajama top and she discovers most of the buttons are gone from being forcibly rd opd open. “And I just bought these. Oooh, I hate him. Hate him, hate him, hate him! Him and his piercing blue eyes and tight little...ARGHHH!” She pounds her fists into the bed in frustration. “I am NOT attracted to that evil, bloodsucking thing. It’s just inconvenient that he has killer cheekbones. Truly truly inconvenient.” Buffy sighs. “Dammit.”
She struggles out of bed and heads for the bathroom. “Hot shower will wash away the bad. Just a fluke dream thing. I need a boyfriend. Yeah, that’s it. Boyfriend. A LIVE one.” Buffy turns on the water, making it a bit hotter than normal. She drops the pajamas to the floor and steps into the steamy shower. She soon realizes how hot her dream truly was. Her nipples are sore and her thighs covered in her own juices. With a gentle hand, she washes her sensitive breasts and works the washcloth between her legs. Buffy’s eyes slip closed as she massages the still swollen area. Unbidden, Spike’s glinting eyes appear in her mind. His naked body gleaming under the spray of water, bleached hair wet and curly. He reaches for her, pulling her closer, his hand goes down to her thigh, slowly sliding up to meet hers. His strong fingers work inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit in time. Buffy slumps against the cool tile wall, eyes closed, lips parted. Her fingers bring her closer to the edge, though her mind tells her it is him. Spike is holding her against the wall with one hand, the other driving her around the bend. His soft lips press against her neck, gently kissing his way down her jugular. She starts to shake, her breath catching as she comes closer and closer to orgasm. Finally, with a furious drive, she feels the ripples course through her pelvis and she cries out.
A knock at the door shatters the illusion. Spike disappears as her Mom’s voice carries through the door of the bathroom. “Buffy? Are you okay in there?”
Buffy scrambles for the water, turning it off. Still shaky, she calls back, “I’m fi-ine, Mom. Almost done.”
“I didn’t know you were staying over here last night ‘til I heard the shower. Everything okay at the dorm?”
Buffy stumbles out of the shower, reaching for a towel. “Oh yeah, I was just patrolling late and decided to crash here...it’s closer to the cemetery.” She peeks out the door and smiles at her Mom. “ ‘morning, by the way.”
Joyce smiles back. “Good morning, sweetie. Want some breakfast? I can make pancakes.”
“Sounds great. I’ll be down in two shakes.” Buffy clicks the door closed and leans against it, trying to slow her breathing to normal. “If that stupid vamp didn’t have a chip, I would stake him for making me feel this way. So so wrong.” She continues to dry herself off, forcing her mind to other topics beside Spike, completely unaware that the subject of her anger is across town fighting the same unwelcome lust with a vengeance.
Chapter 2: Waking Dreams
* * * * *
After another sweep through the cemetery for a few more demon encounters, Spike returns to his crypt, bloody, shirt torn, but satisfied.
“Now, THAT was fun!” Spike flings himself into an armchair, lately acquired from the dump. “Slayer wouldn’t whine so much if she just took a little more pleasure in her work.” He stretches his arms out, yawning. “All this violence leaves a fella a bit knackered, though. Dawn must be coming, too.”
Spike squints at the wall of the crypt, as if he could peer through the stone and see the deadly sun creeping over the horizon. Regardless, he can feel the sunlight coming, sapping hiergyergy.
“Nothing for it then to sleep, then.” Using his duster as a pillow, he lies down on top of a sarcophagus. Before long, his unnecessary breathing stills completely as he slips into sleep.
* * * * *
Cupid, chin on his hand, finally perks up. “Heavens, I thought he would NEVER go to sleep.” He reaches for his bow and arrow again, now that his target has become more vulnerable. Bowstring pulled taut, Cupid lets the arrow fly at Spike’s undead heart. As it strikes, he calls to Psyche, “Love, do you want to see the vampire’s reaction? Should be interesting.” Psyche stirs from her nap and comes to perch next to her lover, peering into the still pool.
Spike jerks upright at the sudden pain in his chest. His hand goes to his heart and finds nothing. However, he immediately begins to breathe faster. “Cor, ‘s weird. Can’t bloody well have a heart attack without a beating heart...” Spike is distracted by the strange sensations beginning to radiate through his body, his undead heart the source.
A warmth trickles down his chest and he rips his shirt open, half-expecting to see blood. But no, the feeling is internal. He runs his hands down his abs, following the sensation. It reaches his cock, which immediately springs to life, straining against the constraint of his black jeans. He groans, the suddenness of his erection nearly painful. The warmth continues to flow through his body, causing him to twitch and moan. He quickly unzips his jeans, releasing his throbbing cock, wondering at this dramatic attraction to...nothing?
Just as quickly, images begin to flash through his mind. Taut, bronze skin stretched over a narrow back, the groove of the spine catching the light. Small, pert breasts glistening with sweat, the droplets running down the finely toned abs. Tiny fingers caressing his face, his neck. Blond hair swinging to cover a face as this phantom straddles him in his mind. Exquisite moans as she rises and falls over his naked torso. Faster and faster, he clutches for her in his vision as his hands slide over his cock more and more quickly. Finally, with one great yell, he comes as his imaginary sex kitten screams and claws his chest. She throws her hair back and...
“Buffy!” Spike sits bolt upright, shaking his head furiously. He stares at the disarray of his clothes, the sticky wetness covering his chest. More disturbing are the visions in his head. “The Slayer? What the hell?!” He quickly jumps up, zipping his jeans. Grabbing his nearby shirt, he wipes off his chest and throws it into the corner. As he does when he is agitated, Spike paces the crypt.
“Sex dreams ‘bout the Slayer? That’s just wrong. Want to kill her, not shag her...though she does have the tightest little.. NO!” He roars in frustration, running both hands through his short blond hair. “What is this? She was...I wonder if she really looks...oh god. This has to stop right bleedin’ now . I don’t want her stupid hair and short little legs and perfect breasts running through my... WHOA! Okay. Simmer down, Spike. Just a dream.” He turns in tighter circles, hands on hips as he tries to regain control. “Just a bloody dream. Sometimes violence makes me horny, that’s all. Yes, that’s it. Had the nice big fight after a long lay-off - saw her tonight - so, she was just convenient. Convenient. Yep. DAMMIT!!” With renewed vigor, Spike paces, trying to ignore his completely unnatural, but accelerated breathing.
* * * * *
Psyche jumps up, clapping her hands in excitement. “That is so great, sweetie! Look, he went from loathing her to fantasizing about her in no time. I think he still wants to help her, but it takes time, right?” Her curls bounce as she jumps to her feet.
“That’s right, my dear. The arrows are quite powerful, but of a limited duration. I will let them simmer in these feelings for a few days before I replenish. They won’t know what hit them.” Cupid reaches forward, waves his hand over the pool, blurring the image of the agitated vampire, still pacing.
* * * * *
Buffy’s House, Morning
Buffy stretches long and hard, feeling satisfied. The sunlight pours through her windows, warming her bare skin. Bare skin? She looks down, suddenly remembering why she feels so satisfied. Her pajama top is ripped open, her silky bottoms loosened and wrinkled.
“Ohhh crap.” Buffy covers her eyes as the memories come back in detail.
Images of the blond vampire she hates dance through her mind. His ripped abs under her hands, his muscular arms gripping her. His lips kissing her in many, many places. An unconscious shiver runs through her body at the thought. “Stupid dream. I mean, gross. So so not of the good.” Her hands go to button her pajama top and she discovers most of the buttons are gone from being forcibly rd opd open. “And I just bought these. Oooh, I hate him. Hate him, hate him, hate him! Him and his piercing blue eyes and tight little...ARGHHH!” She pounds her fists into the bed in frustration. “I am NOT attracted to that evil, bloodsucking thing. It’s just inconvenient that he has killer cheekbones. Truly truly inconvenient.” Buffy sighs. “Dammit.”
She struggles out of bed and heads for the bathroom. “Hot shower will wash away the bad. Just a fluke dream thing. I need a boyfriend. Yeah, that’s it. Boyfriend. A LIVE one.” Buffy turns on the water, making it a bit hotter than normal. She drops the pajamas to the floor and steps into the steamy shower. She soon realizes how hot her dream truly was. Her nipples are sore and her thighs covered in her own juices. With a gentle hand, she washes her sensitive breasts and works the washcloth between her legs. Buffy’s eyes slip closed as she massages the still swollen area. Unbidden, Spike’s glinting eyes appear in her mind. His naked body gleaming under the spray of water, bleached hair wet and curly. He reaches for her, pulling her closer, his hand goes down to her thigh, slowly sliding up to meet hers. His strong fingers work inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit in time. Buffy slumps against the cool tile wall, eyes closed, lips parted. Her fingers bring her closer to the edge, though her mind tells her it is him. Spike is holding her against the wall with one hand, the other driving her around the bend. His soft lips press against her neck, gently kissing his way down her jugular. She starts to shake, her breath catching as she comes closer and closer to orgasm. Finally, with a furious drive, she feels the ripples course through her pelvis and she cries out.
A knock at the door shatters the illusion. Spike disappears as her Mom’s voice carries through the door of the bathroom. “Buffy? Are you okay in there?”
Buffy scrambles for the water, turning it off. Still shaky, she calls back, “I’m fi-ine, Mom. Almost done.”
“I didn’t know you were staying over here last night ‘til I heard the shower. Everything okay at the dorm?”
Buffy stumbles out of the shower, reaching for a towel. “Oh yeah, I was just patrolling late and decided to crash here...it’s closer to the cemetery.” She peeks out the door and smiles at her Mom. “ ‘morning, by the way.”
Joyce smiles back. “Good morning, sweetie. Want some breakfast? I can make pancakes.”
“Sounds great. I’ll be down in two shakes.” Buffy clicks the door closed and leans against it, trying to slow her breathing to normal. “If that stupid vamp didn’t have a chip, I would stake him for making me feel this way. So so wrong.” She continues to dry herself off, forcing her mind to other topics beside Spike, completely unaware that the subject of her anger is across town fighting the same unwelcome lust with a vengeance.