AB/BtVS fic: NIghtmares in Waking Life 1/?
TITLE: Nightmares in Waking Life
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
RATING: en.sea.xvii overall
PAIRINGS: All the pairings from the previous two stories---and some new ones, too
SPOILERS: Up until Micah for AB; the whole TV series for the Buffyverse; Alive at Last and Living Underground.
WARNINGS: A little bit of fur… bdsm… the usuals for Anita’s world.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anyone---except for any original characters that I whip up to do my bidding ;)
NOTE: This story is a sequel to Living Underground.
PART ONE
Willow smoothed her hands over her skirt and she looked around the room. It wasn’t familiar. None of it was familiar---her clothes, the lighting, the music, the crowd… Still, she felt very comfortable there and she couldn’t explain why she wasn’t reacting.
“Mon colibri.”
She turned and saw Asher standing almost ten feet away from her. A quick look to his side told her that Jean-Claude was there as well. They were wearing clothes similar to hers, but male---and similar to those they wore for public functions. They wore ruffles and lace, pins at their throats, and pants that ended at their ankles, to be finished with fancy white socks and buckled, heeled shoes. They weren’t wearing hats; their hair shone in the firelight.
“You look lovely, ma chérie,” Jean-Claude said quietly.
Willow felt her cheeks flush. “Thanks, Jean-Claude,” she murmured in reply. “Where are we?”
“A banquet,” Asher told her as he approached and took her hand in his. He bowed gracefully before kissing her knuckles. When, he rose to his full height, he said, “We were honouring the petit dauphin’s birthday.” He paused and said, “Juliana was with us. But you are here now.”
“So, I’m dreaming.”
“Oui,” he replied.
“Cool.” She grinned as Jean-Claude took her other hand and kissed its knuckles after a bow. “So, do I look spiffy in my poofy dress?”
“’Poofy?’” Jean-Claude inquired with an eyebrow arched. “It is an elegant construction of many delicate layers of fabric and sturdy whalebone. You are a masterpiece.”
“And you’re not just saying that because of the corset?” Willow asked teasingly.
Asher smirked. His face was free of scars. Willow hadn’t noticed it at first, because she was so used to loving Asher the way he was in the present day. He leaned in close to her and said, “I am saying that because of the corset.” He licked his lips and Willow caught a glimpse of his fangs. “I cannot wait to sink my fangs into you, mon colibri.”
Willow knew she was flushing even more than she had been a few moments ago. “And what will Jean-Claude be doing? Watching?”
“To start,” Asher replied. “This is your dream.”
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Of course not---it is still daylight where we are,” he reminded her.
Willow nodded. “So, it’s my dream.” She frowned. “But, I’m dreaming about the prince’s birthday.”
“It is not important,” Asher said with a wave of his hand. “What matters is that we are together.”
“Good point,” she agreed quietly. She smiled again. “So, how long do we have to hang out here?”
Jean-Claude grinned. He looked so much younger than he did to her, normally. “We have already paid our respects to the prince, ma chérie,” he told her. “Perhaps we should dance once or twice before disappearing into the night.”
“I like that suggestion,” Willow murmured.
Without direction, Asher drew her into his arms. No one seemed to mind that Jean-Claude came up behind Willow, or that his hands were teasing her body and Asher’s hands as they moved to the music. No one seemed to notice them at all---and if it were really happening, Willow probably would have wondered if the vampires were using their powers on the crowd---but since it was only a dream, she did not let their mindlessness bother them.
It was like she was Juliana in the dream. She was what brought them together. She could feel their anticipation and their arousal; their feelings stirred her own until she wasn’t sure whose pulse she was feeling in her throat.
The music changed. The atmosphere changed. Willow didn’t notice that their clothes changed until she looked around and really processed what she was seeing.
They were at Narcissus in Chains. There were crowds of people around them, focused on one thing---dancing to the beat. Asher rocked in front of her, moving as he did when they went on dates together to dance clubs around the city. Jean-Claude, much to Willow’s surprise, could dance to modern music as well as he could to the well-tempered clavichord.
The three of them groped and swayed and dipped, lost in their own world as the music washed over them. Jean-Claude pressed his body behind her and playfully bit at the cords of her neck with his dull teeth.
“Don’t do it unless you mean it,” Willow croaked, her voice nearly drowned by the loud bass beat.
Jean-Claude shuddered against her as Asher pulled them both closer to him. She could feel him mirroring Jean-Claude’s actions and she knew they were both going to bite her. Jean-Claude had never rolled her and Asher couldn’t roll her completely because of their shared bond, but Willow was beginning to wonder if she would survive if they used their powers on her at the same time.
She wasn’t sure what would happen if she died in the middle of her dream.
Before either of them could pierce her neck, though, she was yanked away.
In the abruptness of the movement, the music and lights disappeared. She hit the ground; her back connected with something cold. She looked around the dimly lit space and saw that she was lying on a large slab of stone.
“Who… ow,” she moaned as she tried to move and found that her head did not appreciate being moved.
Anita loomed over her. “I told you to stay away from him!” she hollered.
Willow frowned. “Actually… no. I don’t think you ever told me that.” She looked up into Anita’s angry face and felt the stirrings of fear in her gut chasing away the desire from only moments ago. “Anita, what the---“
She stopped talking when she saw Anita’s long machete blade in the necromancer’s hands, raised high above the woman’s head.
The knife was usually used for her animation rituals. Somehow, though, Willow didn’t think it was raised like that for anything pertaining to the petite woman’s ‘day job.’
“Why are you holding that knife?” Willow asked quietly.
“Oh, this? I’m going to use it to kill you,” Anita said before bringing the blade down, tip heading straight for Willow’s heart.
AUTHOR: 38gnihsurc
RATING: en.sea.xvii overall
PAIRINGS: All the pairings from the previous two stories---and some new ones, too
SPOILERS: Up until Micah for AB; the whole TV series for the Buffyverse; Alive at Last and Living Underground.
WARNINGS: A little bit of fur… bdsm… the usuals for Anita’s world.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anyone---except for any original characters that I whip up to do my bidding ;)
NOTE: This story is a sequel to Living Underground.
PART ONE
Willow smoothed her hands over her skirt and she looked around the room. It wasn’t familiar. None of it was familiar---her clothes, the lighting, the music, the crowd… Still, she felt very comfortable there and she couldn’t explain why she wasn’t reacting.
“Mon colibri.”
She turned and saw Asher standing almost ten feet away from her. A quick look to his side told her that Jean-Claude was there as well. They were wearing clothes similar to hers, but male---and similar to those they wore for public functions. They wore ruffles and lace, pins at their throats, and pants that ended at their ankles, to be finished with fancy white socks and buckled, heeled shoes. They weren’t wearing hats; their hair shone in the firelight.
“You look lovely, ma chérie,” Jean-Claude said quietly.
Willow felt her cheeks flush. “Thanks, Jean-Claude,” she murmured in reply. “Where are we?”
“A banquet,” Asher told her as he approached and took her hand in his. He bowed gracefully before kissing her knuckles. When, he rose to his full height, he said, “We were honouring the petit dauphin’s birthday.” He paused and said, “Juliana was with us. But you are here now.”
“So, I’m dreaming.”
“Oui,” he replied.
“Cool.” She grinned as Jean-Claude took her other hand and kissed its knuckles after a bow. “So, do I look spiffy in my poofy dress?”
“’Poofy?’” Jean-Claude inquired with an eyebrow arched. “It is an elegant construction of many delicate layers of fabric and sturdy whalebone. You are a masterpiece.”
“And you’re not just saying that because of the corset?” Willow asked teasingly.
Asher smirked. His face was free of scars. Willow hadn’t noticed it at first, because she was so used to loving Asher the way he was in the present day. He leaned in close to her and said, “I am saying that because of the corset.” He licked his lips and Willow caught a glimpse of his fangs. “I cannot wait to sink my fangs into you, mon colibri.”
Willow knew she was flushing even more than she had been a few moments ago. “And what will Jean-Claude be doing? Watching?”
“To start,” Asher replied. “This is your dream.”
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Of course not---it is still daylight where we are,” he reminded her.
Willow nodded. “So, it’s my dream.” She frowned. “But, I’m dreaming about the prince’s birthday.”
“It is not important,” Asher said with a wave of his hand. “What matters is that we are together.”
“Good point,” she agreed quietly. She smiled again. “So, how long do we have to hang out here?”
Jean-Claude grinned. He looked so much younger than he did to her, normally. “We have already paid our respects to the prince, ma chérie,” he told her. “Perhaps we should dance once or twice before disappearing into the night.”
“I like that suggestion,” Willow murmured.
Without direction, Asher drew her into his arms. No one seemed to mind that Jean-Claude came up behind Willow, or that his hands were teasing her body and Asher’s hands as they moved to the music. No one seemed to notice them at all---and if it were really happening, Willow probably would have wondered if the vampires were using their powers on the crowd---but since it was only a dream, she did not let their mindlessness bother them.
It was like she was Juliana in the dream. She was what brought them together. She could feel their anticipation and their arousal; their feelings stirred her own until she wasn’t sure whose pulse she was feeling in her throat.
The music changed. The atmosphere changed. Willow didn’t notice that their clothes changed until she looked around and really processed what she was seeing.
They were at Narcissus in Chains. There were crowds of people around them, focused on one thing---dancing to the beat. Asher rocked in front of her, moving as he did when they went on dates together to dance clubs around the city. Jean-Claude, much to Willow’s surprise, could dance to modern music as well as he could to the well-tempered clavichord.
The three of them groped and swayed and dipped, lost in their own world as the music washed over them. Jean-Claude pressed his body behind her and playfully bit at the cords of her neck with his dull teeth.
“Don’t do it unless you mean it,” Willow croaked, her voice nearly drowned by the loud bass beat.
Jean-Claude shuddered against her as Asher pulled them both closer to him. She could feel him mirroring Jean-Claude’s actions and she knew they were both going to bite her. Jean-Claude had never rolled her and Asher couldn’t roll her completely because of their shared bond, but Willow was beginning to wonder if she would survive if they used their powers on her at the same time.
She wasn’t sure what would happen if she died in the middle of her dream.
Before either of them could pierce her neck, though, she was yanked away.
In the abruptness of the movement, the music and lights disappeared. She hit the ground; her back connected with something cold. She looked around the dimly lit space and saw that she was lying on a large slab of stone.
“Who… ow,” she moaned as she tried to move and found that her head did not appreciate being moved.
Anita loomed over her. “I told you to stay away from him!” she hollered.
Willow frowned. “Actually… no. I don’t think you ever told me that.” She looked up into Anita’s angry face and felt the stirrings of fear in her gut chasing away the desire from only moments ago. “Anita, what the---“
She stopped talking when she saw Anita’s long machete blade in the necromancer’s hands, raised high above the woman’s head.
The knife was usually used for her animation rituals. Somehow, though, Willow didn’t think it was raised like that for anything pertaining to the petite woman’s ‘day job.’
“Why are you holding that knife?” Willow asked quietly.
“Oh, this? I’m going to use it to kill you,” Anita said before bringing the blade down, tip heading straight for Willow’s heart.