|Getting Off by Angearia|
|Chapter #1 - Getting Off|
|Buffy groaned. She rubbed the throbbing knot on the back of her head. Her eyes opened painfully and she grimaced at the faint red light illuminating the dark room.|
“What the…?” Rolling to her knees, she looked in bewilderment at the deserted control room. She heard a strange creaking sound followed by disturbing echoes running along the iron walls of the room. She spied a…what do you call it? That thing sailors looked through before yelling ‘target acquired!’ Scope something. Kaleidoscope. No, periscope. Gripping the handles on each side of the periscope, she bent down to look through it. Nothing. Just darkness.
The hull of what she now knew to be a submarine groaned. Buffy imagined the water pressing down on her and shivered. But how did she get down here and why? Searching the room for answers, she resisted the urge to start pushing buttons at random. With her luck, she’d shoot off a torpedo or something. Or hit the self-detonate button. Did submarines have self-detonate buttons? She hoped not. Hands held aloft and away from any buttons, Buffy turned and spotted a note hanging from the back side of the periscope. Huh, how’d she miss that? Ripping it down, she opened it and read:
To whom it may concern –
Well, obviously if you’re reading this you have cause for concern. You’re trapped thousands of feet deep under the ocean’s surface. But have no fear. You’re riding a magical submarine. No, it’s not yellow. Everyone thinks it’s yellow.
It’s magical because this submarine needs no crew to run it. Notice how you’re alone? Well sort of. You’re not completely alone. That would defeat the purpose of the submarine entirely. The submarine doesn’t run on fuel, it runs on magic. Sex magic, to be precise. Yes, that’s right. Sex magic. Which means if you want to get out of here, you’re going to have to…yes, stop shaking your head. There’s no use denying it. It’s the only way out. No, you cannot somehow figure out how to drive the submarine all on your own. It’s a magical, non-yellow submarine that is fueled only through sex magic. And no, masturbating isn’t going to get it done so you can forget that, too. Not that the idea is without merits. As an aperitif perhaps, but you’re still going to need the big finish if you want to see land, ho!
Good luck with the sexing and may you reach your intended destination safely,
“What the hell? Sub elves? And I’m supposed to have sex with who exactly?”
A thump made her turn in time to see a boot sticking out from behind the communications panel. “Ow. Bloody hell.”
Buffy closed her eyes in chagrin. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. She walked around the control panel to find Spike sprawled on the floor, looking blearily up at her and rubbing his head. Bending down, she grabbed him by the coat and lifted him up against the control panel to their left.
“Hey! Watch it now.” Spike brushed off her hands, standing on his own feet.
“I’ve got one question for you, Spike. Did you do this?”
“This. Did you put me here so that we could...? Is this your idea of a way for us to get back together? ‘Cause you might have tried calling me instead. Letting me know you were back from the land of dustville. Just a thought.”
Spike blinked and looked around the room for the first time. “Huh? And where the hell are we?”
Buffy snapped her fingers to gain his attention. “Magical submarine. Underwater. You. Me. Ringing any bells here?”
Spike squinted at her. “Were you always this crazy?”
Buffy pursed her lips, her jaw working from left to right. After a prolonged silence, she squared her shoulders and nodded. “Fine. Take off your pants.”
“I said take off your pants. Now.”
Spike looked at her like she’d lost her mind, then pinched his right arm and shook his head. “Never had one of these dreams on a submarine before,” he muttered to himself.
“Spike, I don’t have time for this. Not that you’d know because you haven’t been around or a part of my life for the past year, but I have people counting on me. And responsibilities. I can’t just stay here and twiddle my thumbs.” Buffy waved the letter in Spike’s face. “There’s only one way off this boat and if it means getting my hands dirty, well it’s not like I haven’t done it before. So I’ll say it one more time – take off your pants or I’ll take them off for you.”
Spike smirked. “I love it when you’re bossy, pet.” His gaze devoured her body and finished by staring at her lips hungrily. “Since this is my dream, I think I’ll opt for you taking my pants off for me. With your teeth. I’m sure you’re up for the challenge.” Mouth open, she could see his tongue curling against his teeth. “I know I am.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, reaching down to unbuckle Spike’s belt. The sound of his jeans unsnapping made her pause and she backed away slowly, shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Buffy’s eyes began to water. “I didn’t mean to…” Use you. Unable to speak, Buffy shot Spike a helpless look.
Spike absorbed her desperate look. She could see the wheels turning in his head. “Buffy?”
“What?” she said hoarsely.
“Are we really in a submarine?”
“Duh. Where else could we be?”
“Heh. Haven’t been in one of these since WWII.” He looked at her suspiciously then down at his unbuttoned jeans. “What’s with the grabbing, then? You under some kind of spell or something?”
Buffy laughed with a twinge of hysteria. “Or something.”
“Buffy. Slayer. What’s going on?” Buffy handed the letter over to Spike. He glanced over it quickly, his eyebrows rising in astonishment. “Ah. So you fancy shagging up against the control panel there or on the floor? I could lay out my jacket. Make it a little more cozy.”
Buffy shook her head. “We’re not doing this. We just have to find another way to get out of here.”
“Right. Sorry. Didn’t realize the thought of sleeping with me was still…what’s the word? Abhorrent? Disgusting?”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m not gonna have sex with you just because some snap, crackle and pop elves say ‘just do it.’ And it’s not like you’ve been begging for another go with me either. You couldn’t even bother to call me when you came back from the dead.”
“So Andrew told you?”
“Is that a surprise? Andrew couldn’t keep a secret if he had amnesia.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the floor. “So you’re back and you didn’t want me to know. Why? Why wouldn’t you tell me? Do you hate me that much?”
“Are you serious? You think I hate you?”
“Okay, maybe not hate. But if you cared at all you wouldn’t have not said anything.”
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d care.”
“I wouldn’t care that you were alive again? Are you brain damaged? I told you I loved you and then you died. You died. So of course that means when you come back to life that you shouldn’t tell me or contact me, because how could I ever care about you.” Buffy shook her head. “This is a waste of time. We’re getting nowhere and getting nowhere means we’re stuck on this stupid sub.” Buffy glared at the control panel and smashed her fist against the buttons. A speaker crackled and then music began to play over the submarine’s intercom:
I've been really tryin', baby. Tryin' to hold back this feelin' for so long ...
Buffy and Spike shared a look of mutual horror before hitting buttons on the control panel at random. They both breathed a sigh of relief as the song stopped only to shudder as another song started playing through the speakers:
When I get that feeling I want sexual healing, sexual healing, oh baby…
“Oh god, make it stop,” Buffy groaned, covering her ears and closing her eyes. She heard Spike cursing as he continued fiddling with the buttons and then finally there was blissful silence. Gentle hands gripped her wrists, pulling her arms down.
“It’s over. No more death by musical torture, okay?”
Buffy’s shoulders slumped. “I just want to go home,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I know,” Spike said softly. He glanced down at her feet then gave her a rueful look. “Too bad you’re not wearing your ruby slippers.”
Buffy almost smiled. “I was this close to wearing them tonight, too.” She looked down at his hands still encircling her wrists, noting how his thumbs were gently rubbing circles around the beat of her pulse. “Spike? Why would you think I wouldn’t care if you were back? I don’t understand why…”
Spike dropped her hands and stepped back. “Let’s just leave it. No reason to go rehashing everything. You’ve moved on. I’m moving on.”
“Buffy, just drop it.”
“No. Rehash what, Spike?”
“I don’t wanna get into this. Let it be,” he entreated.
“Oh, we’re into it. We’re so into it there’s no getting out of it. Literally. I’m sick of this run around. Just tell me.”
Spike avoided her gaze. “You didn’t mean it, is all. You said…you said you loved me ‘cause I was going up in a blaze of glory. You tossed me a crumb. You were being kind. I get it. I don’t have any expectations. Know it’s never gonna work between us.”
“You didn’t believe me,” Buffy said slowly. “You didn’t believe me when I said I loved you.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you said it. But coming back, well, I still knew my place.” Spike quirked his mouth. “I’m beneath you.”
“Is that such a bad place to be?”
Spike’s confused look was quickly replaced by growing shock as Buffy started unbuttoning her blouse. She kicked off her shoes and looked at him boldly, challenging him. Shrugging her shoulders, she let her blue shirt fall to her feet, reaching down to unsnap her trousers and step out of the pile they made on the floor. She stood before him in her matching bra and panties, the lacy fabric teasing at what lay beneath without revealing. Tantalizing hints of soft curves and womanly flesh. But of course he'd remember already. He’d touched every inch of her before. He had to remember. Just as she did.
Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra and let it fall as she bent to slip her panties down her legs. She swallowed, bracing herself before standing up again. Spike stood frozen, watching her like she was about to vanish before his eyes. She resisted the urge to smile. “Spike?” Her voice sounded raw, her gaze stripped bare, as naked as her body trembling before him. “Do you trust me?” she asked, reaching out a hand to him.
Spike shook his head, dazed. “You don’t have to do this. We’ll find another way out.”
“This has nothing to do with us getting off.” Spike smirked at her choice of words. “I mean, this is about us. I’m not here to lie to you. And you’re not about to die to save the world, so there’s no reason for you not to believe me.” Buffy looked down at her naked body before meeting Spike’s eyes. “I’m not hiding any secrets. This is just me.” She raised her hand out to him again, eyes soft and vulnerable. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he answered, mesmerized.
Buffy swallowed visibly before asking, “Do you want me?”
Biting her lip, she wavered. Breathing in shakily, her voice broke slightly as she asked, “Do you love me?”
“Always.” Spike’s eyes glowed. That look she remembered so well. The one that told her she was adored. She’d forgotten how it felt to have him look at her like that. Her belly tingled, her nipples tightening as she watched his eyes worshipping every inch of her.
“Spike?” His gaze rose to meet hers. “Take off your pants,” she rasped.
Spike grinned. “In a minute, love.” Stepping forward, he dropped to his knees, gripping her hips and nuzzling her, his tongue homing in on her clit. She gasped, head falling back as she clutched at his hair, urging him closer. His hands palmed her buttocks, holding her still while massaging the taut flesh. Each expert lick made her legs shiver, the tension in her abdomen tightening more and more till she ripped his head back by the hair.
“Stop. I need…” She panted for breath, unable to express what she wanted.
Spike stuck his tongue out at her, grinning. “Looks like I was right about knowing my place.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Beneath you, yeah.”
Panting for breath, Buffy shoved Spike by the shoulders. Gentleness be damned. He could take it. What's more, she knew he liked it when she was rough. He landed on his back with a thud only to find himself covered by a very naked and needy Slayer.
“Beneath me sounds just right,” Buffy purred, pulling his shirt up over his shoulders as he shrugged out of his coat. Buffy ran her hands over his naked chest and down, following the trail of fine hair to his groin. Too excited to be coy, she slipped one hand inside his jeans and stroked his cock while the other pushed his pants down his hips. Spike groaned, eyes closed.
“Ah Christ, your hands are so hot. Yeah, do it. Do me good.”
Buffy hummed in response, shifting her hips as she angled his cock and slid down, taking him inside her. No time to wait. Oh god. The shock of him filling her made them pause, staring at each other silently, both gasping for breath. She looked at his lips and suddenly her mouth was there, sucking and kissing and demanding more as she began to gyrate on top of him. He moaned, his hands cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples.
Her hips rose with each push against the cold floor that bit into her soft flesh. Not that she cared. All she wanted was him inside her, bringing her closer to the edge. She needed it. Him. More. Now. It didn’t hurt. It felt too damned good for her to notice if it hurt. Breaking away from his lips, she rose up on top him, hands sliding along his rock hard abs as she pushed up only to fall down again, taking him deeper. Up. Down. Again and again. He watched her rise and fall, the way her breasts swayed with each move of her hips. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, bracing her hands on his upper thighs as she arched her lower back and clenched her pussy around his cock, holding him tightly until he cursed and gripped her hips. Her hands covered his and loosened his hold so that she could swivel her hips, not up or down, but simply around him, taking him with her as she moved like a wanton belly dancer.
“Fuck,” Spike bit out. “Fuck me.”
Buffy chuckled deep in her throat. “That’s the idea.” Leaning forward, she sucked on his left nipple while her hand played with his right, tweaking it to a hard nub, her hips continuing to dance atop him. The pressure continued to tighten and coil inside her until she couldn’t stand to play anymore, lifting up to grip his shoulders as she rode him in earnest. Hard and fast, her hips banging against his as she panted. His hips strained up to meet hers, matching her desperate rhythm. They didn’t speak. They just looked at each other, eyes intense and naked, need bleeding between them and something soft underneath all the desperation. Her climax surprised her, her eyes jerking closed involuntarily as her body shook atop his. Her toes curled and her mouth opened wide. She let out a long, choking gasp of pleasure before collapsing onto his chest, her limbs loose and weightless.
“Uh guh,” Buffy muttered unintelligibly.
“You said it, love,” Spike chuckled, his hands holding her hips in place.
Buffy pressed her forehead into the crook of Spike’s neck, sighing into him as she fought to regain her senses. The world finally came back to her, pushing away the cotton-whipped fog that clouded her ability to think and speak. Happy and satisfied and completely blissed out, Buffy kissed Spike’s neck where she imagined his pulse would beat if he had one.
“Was it good for you, baby?”
“Mmmm.” She kissed his neck again, sucking it for a few moments before murmuring, “I love you.”
“Yeah, I think I’m finally getting that.” He playfully slapped her ass. "You're damned needy. Looks like I've got a lot to make up for."
The grated floor biting into her knees slowly pulled her mind into focus and she realized they were still on the submarine. “Hey, shouldn’t we have poofed by now? The whole sex magic thing getting us off the sub.” In response, Spike clenched his hands over her hips and pulled her closer, his cock still hard inside her. “Oh, so that means you didn’t…?”
“I think you would have noticed if I had. Figured we shouldn’t be in such a hurry. Well, one of us shouldn’t be in such a hurry.”
“What do you think happens when you…?”
“We go back to wherever we were before.”
“How long can you hold off on…?”
“Coming? Shooting my wad? Fucking you blind?” Buffy bit his neck to stop his teasing. He laughed. “As long as it takes.”
“Good,” Buffy answered, kissing the bruised flesh from her love bite. “Let’s make this last.”
“That’s the plan, love.”
“It’s a good plan…” Her voice trailed off as she felt him thumbing her clit. “Oh. Best plan ever.”