A Separate Universe (PG13)
Title A Separate Universe
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG13
Pairing Spike/Buffy
Words c320
Setting Post-series, possibly in the Rulesverse, or some other world with a Slayer Council and Spuffy
Prompt Oligarchical collectivism (if you don't know why, see wiki. I reckon this covers War Is Peace as well as Ignorance is Strength. And the title is from the same work.) And sexy schmoop, because really, who doesn't want to schmoop a prompt like that? *g*
"This is wrong." She says it idly, undistressed. They're a long way from Sunnydale, in time and space and emotion.
But she's frowning a little, and he can't be having with that.
"What's up, Slayer?" Presses warm lips to her warmer brow, enjoying the effect of hot summer inside shady rooms. She's been sweating. Tastes salty against his mouth. Not quite blood, but a sweet start.
"We're at war. People are dying. I shouldn't be-"
He shushes her before she can even put words to their afternoon delight. "Rubbish, love. You know better. Can't live on a war footing all day, every day. Would break you, and the others."
He pauses, because she's not following him, he can see. Find better words. "Remember being fourteen and a Slayer and alone in the fight?" She nods, of course. "Remember finding your friends, and taking nights off to go dancing?"
They share a brief moment of eye-locked, Remember when we first met, on a dancing night, when danger came looking for you and stayed for the long haul? No need to spell that out. They both remember that feeling, that inner pulse, deep and electric recognition, even all these years on, through enmity and reluctant comradeship, to this: a warm and loving bed in wartime.
Buffy smiles. "Yeah. I remember. Okay, let the Slayerettes take a break. Have some fun."
"And us," he urges, needlessly. Fun has already been had, more than once, as the state of the sheets and the glorious reek of her and him in the air attest.
"Oh yeah," she grins. "And us. But they don't need to know that."
He smiles back, invisibly, mouth already on her shoulder, descending with intent. "That's right, love. Ignorance is strength, and all that."
He suspects she misses that allusion, muffled as it was, and parlous as her literary knowledge remains. But he's a mouthful and a double-handful of loving Slayer, and Eric Blair can go fuck himself. He's not needed here.
***
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG13
Pairing Spike/Buffy
Words c320
Setting Post-series, possibly in the Rulesverse, or some other world with a Slayer Council and Spuffy
Prompt Oligarchical collectivism (if you don't know why, see wiki. I reckon this covers War Is Peace as well as Ignorance is Strength. And the title is from the same work.) And sexy schmoop, because really, who doesn't want to schmoop a prompt like that? *g*
"This is wrong." She says it idly, undistressed. They're a long way from Sunnydale, in time and space and emotion.
But she's frowning a little, and he can't be having with that.
"What's up, Slayer?" Presses warm lips to her warmer brow, enjoying the effect of hot summer inside shady rooms. She's been sweating. Tastes salty against his mouth. Not quite blood, but a sweet start.
"We're at war. People are dying. I shouldn't be-"
He shushes her before she can even put words to their afternoon delight. "Rubbish, love. You know better. Can't live on a war footing all day, every day. Would break you, and the others."
He pauses, because she's not following him, he can see. Find better words. "Remember being fourteen and a Slayer and alone in the fight?" She nods, of course. "Remember finding your friends, and taking nights off to go dancing?"
They share a brief moment of eye-locked, Remember when we first met, on a dancing night, when danger came looking for you and stayed for the long haul? No need to spell that out. They both remember that feeling, that inner pulse, deep and electric recognition, even all these years on, through enmity and reluctant comradeship, to this: a warm and loving bed in wartime.
Buffy smiles. "Yeah. I remember. Okay, let the Slayerettes take a break. Have some fun."
"And us," he urges, needlessly. Fun has already been had, more than once, as the state of the sheets and the glorious reek of her and him in the air attest.
"Oh yeah," she grins. "And us. But they don't need to know that."
He smiles back, invisibly, mouth already on her shoulder, descending with intent. "That's right, love. Ignorance is strength, and all that."
He suspects she misses that allusion, muffled as it was, and parlous as her literary knowledge remains. But he's a mouthful and a double-handful of loving Slayer, and Eric Blair can go fuck himself. He's not needed here.
***