Wednesday Morning

Buffy wearily dragged herself from bed and headed to the shower.  While standing under the hot spray, she explored the fresh marks marring her body, fighting back the shivers waiting to erupt and run along her skin.
 
The past three nights came and went in a lusty haze, and Buffy greeted each morning with a deep aching, damp panties, and dozens of bruises.  These weren’t routine bruises from a night patrolling, fighting off the things going bump in the night.  Oh, no.  These were from a night of totally succumbing to the thing bumping her in the night.

Ugh, bad pun.

As she traced each one, they elicited flashes in her mind.  From the three large half-dollar-sized love bites across her belly where he’d spent an endless period of time teasing her, to the two matching rows of fingertip-sized bruises on her inner thighs where he’d held her open while his mouth greedily incited another earth-shattering climax. 

Each mark separately scorched her brain with equal intensity, yet there was one affecting her like no other, the purplish raised mark covering her pulse point. 

With the water now running cold, she turned off the taps and stepped out.  As she dried off and dressed, she actively avoided these overly sensitive areas.  She was doing a pretty good job of it too, until she tied a scarf around her throat.  The silk rubbing against this mark, made every breath, every swallow, send bolts of lust straight to her sex. 

After taking a few moments to steady herself, with shaky legs and fortitude, she headed off to school.  There the day passed slowly, with only the mundane keeping her grounded between the flashes of intense dreamlike memories. 

Deep down, she knew every touch; every taste was real, not just a figment of an excessively x-rated imagination.  Yet she wasn’t willing to accept the blaring reality, which was she was indeed getting groiny with another vampire, especially Spike. 

True, they hadn’t actually done it.  Technically, he hadn’t gotten any further than third base (outside the clothes only).  Well, with the exception of last night when…Focus! 

Still she couldn’t deny, even while backstroking in the bracing water of De Nile, what she wanted, no, craved and from whom.

Argh!

All these ricocheting thoughts were giving her a major league headache.  Finally able to break from the tedium with the day’s ending bell, she rushed to the library, hoping the mindless beating the stuffing outta something might do the trick to still all these thoughts.

“The upside down tepee looking thing is an L, right?  Guys, I seriously think my head is gonna explode, and it’ll start raining Ouzo candies!”  Xander was surrounded by several piles of books and staring intently at the page laid out in front of him, his head in his hands.

“Yes, it’s an L and called a lambda, Xander.  Hey, how do you know about Ouzo candies?”  Willow looked up from her own page in curiosity.

“Call me crazy, but I thought all this research stuff would be easier if I got my Greek on.  So I said to myself, “Self, where’s the best place to start?”  And that was totally an easy answer, sugary substances.”  Xander stuffed another homemade loukoumade, courtesy of Willow, in his mouth and chewed while maintaining a content smile.     

“Hey guys, still making with the translating?”  Buffy placed her bag down, eyeing the dozens of books stacked high on every available surface.

“Yeah, but every day we’re getting closer.  Besides the blobby areas, Xander and I have the whole thing almost done.”  Willow beamed a proud smile.

“Cool.  Guys, I just wanna say again I’m really sorry I’ve been all spacey girl lately.”  Buffy sat in the empty chair next to Willow, absently playing with the pages of a book.

“No apologies needed, Buffy.  That’s our job in battling evil.  We make with the research, and you make with the physical part—”

Buffy arched into his mouth, her entire body shaking with pleasure while she held him to task roughly, her hands fisted in his hair.

Boldly, for the first time, she dominated the moment, tugging him upward by the hair toward her mouth.  With their lips locked, she rolled them.  With him on the bottom, she explored his neck and chest, her mouth descending until it was met by denim, inches from his—”

“Earth to Buffy, come in Buffy!” 

Buffy was torn from her thoughts by Willow’s raised voice and a hand waving in front of her face.

“Huh?  Oh, sorry—again.”

“Hey, no worries.  Well, there are worries, but we’re going to fix them, okay?”  Willow smiled softly, attempting to reassure.

“Yeah, okay.” 

In spite of the mirrored smile she offered Willow, Buffy knew she had a difficult battle ahead of her.  Even though her body and raging libido demanded her to anticipate night number four, she had to be strong and shut them both down.  She realized she needed to end this.  Now, the biggest question was, “How?”

 

Spike listened to Angel brooding and stalking around the mansion.  For the last three days he’d been researching a way to “cure” his girl. 

It took all of Spike’s self-control not pull himself from the chains and wave his fingers under the Poof’s nose, letting him get a first hand sniff of “his girl’s” dried cream on Spike’s fingers. 

Since Sunday night, Spike had been in a suspended state of arousal just thinking of the Slayer in all her primal glory—writhing on her bed, shaking under his hands and mouth.  In spite of her overall prim and proper behavior, he wasn’t surprised she was so receptive, so raw.  She took to this hunger like a duck to water, and he couldn’t wait to finally sink deep into her depths.

He tried not to linger on the fact he hadn’t fucked the girl yet.  True, he’d tasted her a dozen times over, yet never in the flesh.  A barrier of fabric always remained in the way. 

That was until last night, when he was rewarded for his patience by an unencumbered, glorious eye and mouthfuls of her rosy-tipped tits and being two knuckles deep in her quim.  Then upping the sexual ante even more was her hot little hand gripping his straining erection through his jeans.  The friction of the denim and her heat nearly had him going off in his trousers like a schoolboy. 

Patience—how this virtue had wormed its way into his interactions with the Slayer, he hadn’t a clue.  All the times he dealt with her in the past, each time was swift and instinctive.  At first, all his thoughts lay with their macabre dance, ending with him tearing out her throat, feasting on her heady blood.  More recently, he thought about them dancing another way, with him being cock and fangs deep, draining every ounce of sweetness from her.    

It had to be the bloody spell everyone was researching.  That was the only explanation as to why he was tender and giving, not roughly taking what he hungered for.  By the way the hot little Slayer was writhing like a bitch in heat; she definitely craved this as well.

“Here.” 

Spike was pulled from his thoughts by Angel shoving a steaming cup of rancid mug-o-blood under his nose.

“Brilliant.  Ta,” Spike scoffed, taking the cup in hand.  He downed the foulness in one go and handed the mug back, trading Angel for another full one.

“Look, I’m heading to LA for a night, two at the most.  This should tide you over till I get back.”  Angel placed the now two empty mugs on the floor and slid into his leather jacket, looking at Spike expectantly.
 
“What?  You want a good-bye kiss or something?  Sorry, you’re not my type, even though that never stopped you before,” Spike deadpanned. 

Without another word, Angel exited the room and ascended the garden stairs.  The roaring engine of his Bat mobile was his only form of good-bye.

Spike listened as it headed down the street before pulling his arms from the chains.  He rolled his shoulders, sat on the couch, and lit up a much-needed cigarette while biding his time until Peaches was well outside Sunnyhell’s city limits, and the Slayer was tucked away in her beddy-bye.

 

“—after scouring my library, I’ve finally found this ‘golden ichor’ Angel referred to—Oh, Buffy, how are you feeling?” 

Head in the pages of his book while leaving his office, it appeared Giles hadn’t noticed her until he was midway into the room.  Reaching the table, he laid the hefty tome down and faced her, his look of concern clearly evident.

“I’m doing all right. Well, besides the obvious.  So do I really want to ask what’s a golden ick whore?”  Buffy frowned, eyeing Giles’ book.

“No, it’s golden ichor, with a ‘c-h-o-r’, no ‘w’.  This, for lack of a better explanation, is the blood of a god or an immortal.  Its gold in coloring, hence the name, and just as Angel had stated, it is lethal to mortals.”  When he was done reading, Giles removed his glasses and started cleaning them with brisk strokes before replacing them to their rightful place.
  
“Do you think I was exposed to this ick stuff?  Is this what’s causing all the weirdness?  Am I poisoned?”  Buffy stood from the table and started pacing nervously.
  
“We believe this, as well as the spell Xander and Willow are translating are the causes, either together or separately, for your difficulties.”  Giles moved into Buffy’s path, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I’ve got it!”  Xander jumped up from his seat and waved his paper excitedly, resembling a golden ticket winner.
 
“Are you certain?”  Giles hurried over to Xander and plucked the page from his hand, then grabbed the page Willow was translating off the table.

“Vulcans never bluff.”
 
“Pardon?”  Giles looked up from the translations in confusion.

“You know, Vulcans?  Spock?  Never mind, you stuffy English never have any fun,” Xander huffed as he plopped himself back into his chair.
    
“What does it say, Giles?”  Buffy nervously approached the absorbed Watcher.
 
“Based on Willow and Xander’s translations, it reads as such: “Oh, Soul, goddess.  To bind essence.  Please hear my plea.  Pure of heart.  From harm.  Please Soul–” Now, even though we are unable to translate the full text, I believe this gives us some clear insight to the spell she was performing.

“Get to the chewy center, Giles.  Are you saying somehow this witch’s spell messed with my soul?”  Buffy resumed her pacing, her steps more erratic, fueled by rising distress.
 
“I don’t believe that is the case, Buffy.”
 
“But it might be, right?  So never mind vampires and demons.  Now I have to worry about people too?”  Buffy threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“Buffy, this was not intended for you.  Unfortunately with the turn of events you were affected.  I assure you, we’re all actively working on solving this problem.”
 
Buffy knew Giles was trying to put her at ease.  With a heavy sigh, she finally stopped abruptly and faced him.

“I trust you guys, you know that.  It’s just so frustrating!  I feel like I’m being jerked around like a puppet on a string, and it totally sucks, that’s all.  Okay, since I’m not much help here, I’m going to head out to patrol.  Evil doesn’t take a break just ‘cause the Slayer is all outta whack.”  Buffy grabbed her bag and started for the door.  She stopped and turned when she felt Willow’s presence behind her.

“Buffy, you look really tired, why don’t you skip patrol, go home, and sleep.  The baddies can wait till tomorrow.”   Willow’s concern resonated through her words and expression.

“Sounds like a plan, Wills, but I haven’t been sleeping lately.  Um, really intense dreams.”  Buffy fiddled with the scarf on her neck, tamping down the rising lusties.

“Well, do what I do.  Drink some warm milk, and when you think you’re going to have a nightmare, turn on the light.  The light always chases away the baddies!”  Willow smiled softly, her sympathy evident.
 
“Thanks for the tips.”  Buffy leaned over and hugged Willow tightly then turned and headed out of the library.

Willow headed back to the table and the group resumed researching.  Several moments later an unexpected voice came from the stacks.
 
“So the witch was trying to bind her soul?”  Angel stealthily moved from the shadows.

“That is what it appears.  Unfortunately, the text was compromised, so we are unable to know the full extent of the spell.”  Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
 
“Last night I came across the full list of ingredients she used and this—” Angel descended the stairs and handed Giles a yellow sheet of paper.
 
“—a receipt for the golden ichor she’d purchased from a well known warlock in LA.  I’m heading there now to find out what he knows.  I’m certain with the right persuasion, Larry will tell me all I need to know about a spell requiring an immortal’s blood and binding of souls.”  With that said, Angel collected the receipt from Giles and headed back the way he came.
 
The Scoobies remained silent, appearing to process everything that just transpired, until Willow’s brow furrowed and she looked toward the others.
 
“Um, did anyone else notice both Buffy and Angel were here at the same time, and overall Buffy seemed okay?  Do you think the spell might be wearing off?” 

 

 

   

 

Author’s Notes:

Hope all my fellow Americans had a wonderful and safe 4th!  I like to take this moment to thank Sanityfair for her amazing editing skills and more importantly being an amazing person and friend.  Love ya lady! Also thanks to Spikesterolic for the lovely banner.

 Ouzo candies http://www.greekinternetmarket.com/0503-01002.html

Loukoumade is a “kind of fried-dough pastry made of deep fried dough soaked in sugar syrup or honey and cinnamon, and sometimes sprinkled with sesame.”  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loukoumades

Golden tickets were referencing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_and_the_Chocolate_Factory

“Vulcans never bluff.”  Quote from Spock from Star Trek http://greatsayings.blogspot.com/2009/05/great-star-trek-quotes.html