Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry


Title: Adaptable
Rating: R (for language)
Setting: Summer post S3
Prompt: Shag now or die trying!
Words: 1000

        He approaches her at a kind of shambling run, and Buffy would have figured him for a zombie if he wasn’t already a vampire.  The look of desperation in his eyes is not terribly zombie-like, either.  Without witty repartee or foreplay of any kind, he dives straight for her throat, before she can get her stake up – except it isn’t her throat he latches onto but her earlobe.
        “Thank Christ,” he moans, hips beginning a slow, sinuous roll, and Buffy stands un-Slayer-ly frozen before she shoves him off, hands batting his questing ones away.
        “Spike?” she squeaks.  He’s dropped down, away from her stiff arms and onto her leg, humping her calf like a toy poodle.  The vampire had been weird enough last time she’d seen him, crying to her mother over hot chocolate like a normal person instead of the mass murdering fiend he is, but this is beyond strange.
        She tries to shake him off, but he clings to her with vampire strength, fingers probing into places Spike fingers should never go.  “Sorry!”  His eyes roll wildly, alternating between anger and despair, overlaid with lust.  “Can’t help it, it’s the bloody spell.  You think you’re disgusted, try being me, Slayer.”  His semi-explanation startles her so much she forgets to fend him off, and he slides up her body, thrusting into her ass now, leaving no doubt that ‘toy’ is the wrong adjective for Spike.
        A sharp elbow to the chest sends him sprawling.  “You have however long it takes me to stake you to explain.  Better talk real fast.”
        “Dru.  Hexed me with a lust spell for the Slayer.  Fucking bitch.”
        “I’m not the only Slayer.  Go hump Faith’s leg.”  Not that she’d actually let him.  Faith is in a coma, and even she doesn’t hate the other Slayer that much.
        Spike shakes his head.  “Slayer-specific, sweets.  Got the hots for you, and nothing else will do.  Makes me want to heave.”
        “Buffy Summers, accept no substitute?  Great.  Why am I the lucky one?”  She dances away from hands trying to caress her ankles.
        “Damned if I know.  The bint’s as loony as they come, isn’t she?  Suppose she thought it’d be funny.”  His gaze slides left, over her shoulder, but Buffy decides she really doesn’t care what he’s hiding from her as much as she cares about trying to stop his lust-addled attack.  For a vampire imitating a zombie, he’s still fast.  And sly.  He has her pinned before she can retort, and up close, he looks awful.  As though he’s gone days without feeding or sleeping.  Good thing she isn’t concerned with Spike’s health – she feels no guilt getting a hard knee between his legs.
        He grunts and topples off.  “Only one way to end the compulsion.  Gotta let me in, Slayer.  Sodding hex makes it so I can’t do anything until we’ve shagged.  Shag or die trying.”  Buffy is dismayed to find the revulsion that crosses his face when he mentions shagging her kinda hurts.  Who is he to be disgusted by the idea?  He’s the icky demon, not her. 
        “Now there’s a thought.  I vote die trying.  Let me help you out with that.”  She backs her statement with a well-aimed stake, but Spike rolls out of the way, apparently not so disgusted as to choose death. 
        “No can do, love.  Admit I don’t relish the thought, but it’s still preferable to dusting.  Anyhow, never can tell with black magic voodoo – what if death doesn’t stop the compulsion?  You fancy my dust following you around, trying to get in your knickers for all eternity?”  He grins as if the idea appeals to him.
        “New plan.”  Creepy as lusty Spike is, the remote but real possibility of lusty Spike-dust is worse.  Lusty dust wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to have happened to her.  “How do we end the hex?”
        “Already told you.  It’s the only way.”
        They are circling each other now, Buffy keeping a stone monument between them.  “Over my dead body.”
        “That can be arranged.  Don’t think the spell cares much if you’re cold.  Way Angelus tells it, you’re as good a lay as a corpse anyhow.”
        Buffy gasps.  She can’t help it.  Why she’s surprised an evil creature would stoop so low is beyond her, but there it is.  Even more surprising is the contrite look on Spike’s face.
        “Angelus always was a ruddy wanker.  Bet you’re a real firecracker in the sack, Slayer.” 
            Without warning, he changes tactic, flashing a seductive smile, tongue curling around his teeth.  “Care to prove him wrong?  Come on.  Doesn’t have to be so awful.  I can make it so you won’t regret it.”  His words drip with silken promise that is reflected in his heavy-lidded eyes.  Buffy finds herself backed against the wall of a mausoleum, breathless as his fingers skate under her top, wondering if Dru’s hex is contagious when she holds motionless under his caress. 
       “What happened to wanting to heave?”
       “I adapt.  It’s why I’ve lived so long.  ‘Sides, haven’t you ever wondered what it’d be like, you and me?”  His fingers do something that erases all rational thought. 
       “Nope.  Never.”  No way, no how, and if her dreams make her a liar, well, that’s between her and Mr. Freud.  Not her  fault her subconscious is a twisted place.  His hips begin that slow roll once more as his mouth lowers to hers, and nobody is more surprised than Buffy when she lets him worm one of his thighs between hers. 
      “It’s really the only way to end the spell?” she asks faintly, once more weighing the likelihood of lusty dust.  She also wonders if she could stop him should he become desperate enough to go the necrophilia route, and decides she doesn’t like her chances.
        “Only way.”  The rough timbre of his voice suggests this is a blessing, not a curse.
       Buffy is adaptable as well.  A survivor, like Spike.  Come morning, she’ll tell herself it’s why she kissed him back.


( 14 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 11th, 2013 08:46 am (UTC)
HEE! You already know I love it ofc, but I have to comment and say so, too :P This is awesome and you're awesome!

I especially love Spike's little lie, the reference to Buffy's (canon damnit!) dreams about Spike, the nod to Freud and the idea of Spike's dust following Buffy around forever more to get into her pants ♥
Apr. 11th, 2013 09:46 am (UTC)

Lusty dust may be my new favorite thing randomly to say.

And much thanks for helping me cut words and reorganize. *smooshy hugs*
Apr. 11th, 2013 11:28 am (UTC)
Great fun, and I can see why Buffy prefers the real thing to the lusty dust. :)
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:23 pm (UTC)
LOL, who wouldn't? :) Thank you!
Apr. 11th, 2013 02:06 pm (UTC)
Hmmm... uncomfortable... but unquestionably Spuffy.

Loved the "between her and Dr Freud."
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:26 pm (UTC)
The magically induced sex trope is pretty disturbing anytime you think carefully about it. Thanks!
Apr. 11th, 2013 02:17 pm (UTC)
Hee, love it!
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:26 pm (UTC)
Thank you!
Apr. 12th, 2013 11:13 am (UTC)
Generally I don't like magic-sex-thing, but your fic is hilarious and I love how Spike slowly works with it. Sexy!
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:27 pm (UTC)
There's a fine line between creepy magically induced sex and funny magically induced sex. Glad I fell on the funny side for you. :)
Apr. 12th, 2013 11:51 am (UTC)
ROFL - well done. :)
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:28 pm (UTC)
Thank you! :)
Apr. 12th, 2013 03:55 pm (UTC)
Apr. 14th, 2013 08:28 pm (UTC)
( 14 comments — Leave a comment )


The Spike/Buffy Shorty Challenge Community

Latest Month

March 2017


Copy and paste the text into a comment to show your appreciation!

This is Smokin'... - Buffy holds her hands to the flames in OMWF.

this is smokin' xx - Buffy and Spike's hands set alight in Chosen.

THIS IS SMOKIN' - Spike dressed as Randy Giles in Tabula Rasa, looking singed.


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Teresa Jones