First Fic
Title: Hidden Down Below
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Summary: Buffy can relate with Spike concerning dreams of self-realization in regards to romance.... (A missing scene set somewhere in season 4--official college life--before Buffy started dating Riley--bleh--while she was still irritated by playboy Parker--a plain ol' jerk--after Oz and Willow broke up--sniff--but before Tara entered the scene.)
Rating: T
Pairing: Buffy/Willow, of course
Notes: My first--and only, thus far--BtVS fic; inspired by the ending Spuffy scene of season 5's "Out of My Mind". (Hopefully how that episode inspires will be clear in the tale.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer obviously, nor Harry Potter.
"Buffy?"
Her ears weren't quite sluggish enough not to hear Willow's concerned call, so the Slayer's head rose from the pile of books and papers it had rested upon, sheets of honey blonde hair clouding her face and muffling her breathing a little. Buffy smiled behind her natural veil as she heard the Wicca's giggle, who as a matter of fact could only be seen as a red head from her vantage point; the Slayer wondered for a moment if she was seeing a purely distilled Will--
"Any idea how long you were taking your nap there?" Buffy leaned back in her chair, arms folding beneath her head, keeping her face covered just to annoy the Wicca a bit; the Slayer could feel the smirk spreading on Willow's dry lips that were in need of some chapstick, which was still being ignored. Will always got so single-mindedly wrapped up in her studies, especially when in this library...
"No, I'm afraid losing track of time is one of the side-effects of taking a nap," replied Buffy smoothly in a tone mocking the lecture voice of Professor Walsh; it wasn't that the young Summers disliked Walsh, not at all...she rather liked her, it was just in the Slayer's nature to mock generally everything beneath the sun, and occasionally the things above it too, including the huge burning star itself.
"Well, if you're Willow Rosenberg, losing track of time is a side-effect of studying," said the Wicca, a vague depression present in her voice, and a detached part of Buffy--a part of herself she was ever fearful that would one day consume her--marveled at how her friend had apparently picked up her own train of thought from before. Viciously shoving detachment away, the Slayer stopped leaning in her chair and sat up, leaning this time forward and toward Will...although the thought of uncovering her face had actually and truly slipped her mind.
"True, but you know, that just means you're really into it all, which consequentially leads to good grades. Me, on the other hand...well, my earlier snoozing number speaks for itself." When the Wicca giggled again, Buffy found a few small giggles escaping her own lips as well.
"Throwing everything into perspective, aren't you," Will replied as her hands gently began sweeping away the hair from Buffy's face, and pleasant electrical currents danced across the Slayer's flesh. As more of her hair was swept back, more of the Wicca was revealed in all her warm familiarity, with her trademark shock of crimson hair trimmed short, her eyes painted a welcoming ivy green, her lips still looking as dry as ever, practically crying out for chapstick, something moist... As more of her hair was swept back, Buffy silently hoped with such a fervor unknown to her that each of Willow's touches would last longer than the one before, that tell-tale fingerprints of the Wicca would be left behind upon her own skin as if it were a trail of tattoos....
Will's task complete, the Slayer's face bare, there was a frozen moment that dangled between them before it was finally broken by a wimper from Buffy, a whimper which immediately preceded the kiss she bestowed upon the Wicca in crushing passion. The Slayer's kiss was fierce and unrelenting in gentleness, its focus narrowing in on its target; a bubble of joy popped into existence within her as she felt Willow's lips become soft beneath her ravaging touch. Although Buffy was not truly aware of Will being surprisingly numb to the kiss, she instantly knew when the Wicca began returning it, such a momentous event signaled not only by the sweet pleasure of sucking lips against her own, but a tongue slipping into her mouth and tickling its ridged roof. The mutual smacking sounds of kissing were pure music to the Slayer's ears, and soon the pair not only embraced each other in mouth but in body as well, although in only the smallest of steps; they hugged, which wasn't as foreign to them as their kiss, but still....
"I love you," was the repetitive message Buffy managed to get out in between the kissing, and each time she said it, Will sank closer and closer to her, acting as a nice incentive for the Slayer to continue voicing that truth.... Their hair was mixing, crimson and gold melting into a swirl, and Buffy kept saying "I love you" over and over again....
The dream faded away in a scream that wretched itself free from the Slayer's throat, her head practically bouncing off the pile of books and papers it had rested upon, none of her honey blonde hair masking her face, which happened to be dripping with sweat, its lime green eyes wide in their sockets.
"Buffy!"
Will's voice was even more concerned, and her arm quickly rested upon her friend's shoulder, who instinctively trembled beneath her, although it certainly wasn't negative shaking.... Buffy hesitantly looked at the Wicca, green meeting green as their eyes connected each other in their sights; Willow looked not only worried, but confused as well; the Slayer just looked so embarassed, and her cheeks were steadily growing hot and turning red.
Then the reminder that they weren't the only ones in the library spun Buffy's head around, and indeed she whimpered as she saw that each and every person was gawking at her without shame, which was only fitting since she had screeched without shame. The Slayer swore she could feel her insides shriveling up and dying within her body, and when she spotted people she actually knew in the college crowd--Riley Finn and that Parker bastard--she was certain that her exterior was beginning to shrivel up too. And then there were the tell-tale stomping sounds of the librarian approaching, intent on verbally chewing out the young Summers no doubt. The detached part of Buffy recalled how the Wicca had once remarked that UC Sunnydale's librarian was awfully similiar to the librarian at Hogwarts, a literary allusion that still flew over the Slayer's head since she had not picked up the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, despite all of Will's pestering suggestions. Hastily shoving detachment away and stifling another scream--this time one of pure horror--the young Summers broke out into a run, impulsively bringing forth her Slayer strength to escape the library as quickly as demonically possible; regardless of whether or not UC Sunnydale's librarian was like the one in Hogwarts, Buffy was terrified of her.
When Buffy finally halted her mad run, she found that her muddled brain couldn't immediately pinpoint where she was exactly, only that there were a lot of trees wherever she was. Resting against one of said trees, the Slayer gave an exhausted sigh as she tiredly bowed her head, which only sprang back up in alarm as Buffy realized she had left without saying a word to Willow. Buffy gave a moan as she exasperatedly smacked her head, thinking for about the 100th time how she lead a very complicated life....
Fin
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Summary: Buffy can relate with Spike concerning dreams of self-realization in regards to romance.... (A missing scene set somewhere in season 4--official college life--before Buffy started dating Riley--bleh--while she was still irritated by playboy Parker--a plain ol' jerk--after Oz and Willow broke up--sniff--but before Tara entered the scene.)
Rating: T
Pairing: Buffy/Willow, of course
Notes: My first--and only, thus far--BtVS fic; inspired by the ending Spuffy scene of season 5's "Out of My Mind". (Hopefully how that episode inspires will be clear in the tale.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer obviously, nor Harry Potter.
"Buffy?"
Her ears weren't quite sluggish enough not to hear Willow's concerned call, so the Slayer's head rose from the pile of books and papers it had rested upon, sheets of honey blonde hair clouding her face and muffling her breathing a little. Buffy smiled behind her natural veil as she heard the Wicca's giggle, who as a matter of fact could only be seen as a red head from her vantage point; the Slayer wondered for a moment if she was seeing a purely distilled Will--
"Any idea how long you were taking your nap there?" Buffy leaned back in her chair, arms folding beneath her head, keeping her face covered just to annoy the Wicca a bit; the Slayer could feel the smirk spreading on Willow's dry lips that were in need of some chapstick, which was still being ignored. Will always got so single-mindedly wrapped up in her studies, especially when in this library...
"No, I'm afraid losing track of time is one of the side-effects of taking a nap," replied Buffy smoothly in a tone mocking the lecture voice of Professor Walsh; it wasn't that the young Summers disliked Walsh, not at all...she rather liked her, it was just in the Slayer's nature to mock generally everything beneath the sun, and occasionally the things above it too, including the huge burning star itself.
"Well, if you're Willow Rosenberg, losing track of time is a side-effect of studying," said the Wicca, a vague depression present in her voice, and a detached part of Buffy--a part of herself she was ever fearful that would one day consume her--marveled at how her friend had apparently picked up her own train of thought from before. Viciously shoving detachment away, the Slayer stopped leaning in her chair and sat up, leaning this time forward and toward Will...although the thought of uncovering her face had actually and truly slipped her mind.
"True, but you know, that just means you're really into it all, which consequentially leads to good grades. Me, on the other hand...well, my earlier snoozing number speaks for itself." When the Wicca giggled again, Buffy found a few small giggles escaping her own lips as well.
"Throwing everything into perspective, aren't you," Will replied as her hands gently began sweeping away the hair from Buffy's face, and pleasant electrical currents danced across the Slayer's flesh. As more of her hair was swept back, more of the Wicca was revealed in all her warm familiarity, with her trademark shock of crimson hair trimmed short, her eyes painted a welcoming ivy green, her lips still looking as dry as ever, practically crying out for chapstick, something moist... As more of her hair was swept back, Buffy silently hoped with such a fervor unknown to her that each of Willow's touches would last longer than the one before, that tell-tale fingerprints of the Wicca would be left behind upon her own skin as if it were a trail of tattoos....
Will's task complete, the Slayer's face bare, there was a frozen moment that dangled between them before it was finally broken by a wimper from Buffy, a whimper which immediately preceded the kiss she bestowed upon the Wicca in crushing passion. The Slayer's kiss was fierce and unrelenting in gentleness, its focus narrowing in on its target; a bubble of joy popped into existence within her as she felt Willow's lips become soft beneath her ravaging touch. Although Buffy was not truly aware of Will being surprisingly numb to the kiss, she instantly knew when the Wicca began returning it, such a momentous event signaled not only by the sweet pleasure of sucking lips against her own, but a tongue slipping into her mouth and tickling its ridged roof. The mutual smacking sounds of kissing were pure music to the Slayer's ears, and soon the pair not only embraced each other in mouth but in body as well, although in only the smallest of steps; they hugged, which wasn't as foreign to them as their kiss, but still....
"I love you," was the repetitive message Buffy managed to get out in between the kissing, and each time she said it, Will sank closer and closer to her, acting as a nice incentive for the Slayer to continue voicing that truth.... Their hair was mixing, crimson and gold melting into a swirl, and Buffy kept saying "I love you" over and over again....
The dream faded away in a scream that wretched itself free from the Slayer's throat, her head practically bouncing off the pile of books and papers it had rested upon, none of her honey blonde hair masking her face, which happened to be dripping with sweat, its lime green eyes wide in their sockets.
"Buffy!"
Will's voice was even more concerned, and her arm quickly rested upon her friend's shoulder, who instinctively trembled beneath her, although it certainly wasn't negative shaking.... Buffy hesitantly looked at the Wicca, green meeting green as their eyes connected each other in their sights; Willow looked not only worried, but confused as well; the Slayer just looked so embarassed, and her cheeks were steadily growing hot and turning red.
Then the reminder that they weren't the only ones in the library spun Buffy's head around, and indeed she whimpered as she saw that each and every person was gawking at her without shame, which was only fitting since she had screeched without shame. The Slayer swore she could feel her insides shriveling up and dying within her body, and when she spotted people she actually knew in the college crowd--Riley Finn and that Parker bastard--she was certain that her exterior was beginning to shrivel up too. And then there were the tell-tale stomping sounds of the librarian approaching, intent on verbally chewing out the young Summers no doubt. The detached part of Buffy recalled how the Wicca had once remarked that UC Sunnydale's librarian was awfully similiar to the librarian at Hogwarts, a literary allusion that still flew over the Slayer's head since she had not picked up the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, despite all of Will's pestering suggestions. Hastily shoving detachment away and stifling another scream--this time one of pure horror--the young Summers broke out into a run, impulsively bringing forth her Slayer strength to escape the library as quickly as demonically possible; regardless of whether or not UC Sunnydale's librarian was like the one in Hogwarts, Buffy was terrified of her.
When Buffy finally halted her mad run, she found that her muddled brain couldn't immediately pinpoint where she was exactly, only that there were a lot of trees wherever she was. Resting against one of said trees, the Slayer gave an exhausted sigh as she tiredly bowed her head, which only sprang back up in alarm as Buffy realized she had left without saying a word to Willow. Buffy gave a moan as she exasperatedly smacked her head, thinking for about the 100th time how she lead a very complicated life....
Fin