Title: "Dream Lover"
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Content: M/F, some NC, starring Buffy & Willow (with featured appearances by Xander, Giles, and Oz, and a cameo by Joyce)
This story contains profanity, suggestive language, and scenes of autoerotica and sexual activity that may not be suitable for younger or more sensitive readers. I advise you to use discretion in choosing whether to read this story.
The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and the good folks over at "Mutant Enemy" Productions, not to me. I am merely borrowing them for the entertainment of myself and my online friends. No copyright infringement is intended, and no monetary compensation is desired for my use of these characters.
(C) February 23, 1998, Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, firstname.lastname@example.org
Please send all comments and constructive criticism to this address.
a very special episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
by Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Down tree-lined streets, quiet houses stood in neat rows, lit only by streetlamps. All was still.
Except over there, at the Harris house, where Xander, finally having retired after a fitful attempt to read Siddhartha, frequently interrupted by long stretches of daydreaming and the occasional air guitar solo, stared at the ceiling. His hand crept beneath the covers and gently grasped his penis. He conjured up a mental picture of Cordelia in silk stockings and a gartered merrywidow, closing his eyes and succumbing to the pumping of his wrist. In his mind's eye, Cordelia posed on all fours, waiting for his eager attention, when she happened to glance over her shoulder. At that moment, Xander noticed that her hair was no longer long and dark, but bleached ash blonde and grazing her collarbone. Her face suddenly changed, and instead of Cordelia crouching before him, it was Buffy, licking her lips and, improbably, her fangs. He felt himself go soft, and tossing aside the covers, jumped out of bed and reached for the lamp. Maybe Siddhartha wasn't so bad...
Except at Joyce Summers' house, where a small upstairs window was lit from within. Buffy couldn't really call it patrol, since she was wearing a bathrobe and socks that didn't match, and sitting up in bed staring at the window. But her attention was just as focused, so that she didn't notice the smell of the bunches of garlic hanging in her curtains. Every time she tried closing her eyes, Angel's face floated before her, smiling and kind one minute, snarling and cruel the next.
Except at the Giles place, where Rupert tore furiously through a bureau drawer. He scrambled into clean pajamas, and back into bed, desperately trying to avoid the damp spot. Back to bed, where just moments before, he had been dreaming about an ordinary training session, where Buffy had kicked and spun and flailed as always. Except that this time, her heel had caught in a seam in the wood floor, and she pitched sideways. Rupert had dove to catch her, just in time to keep her from cracking her head on the library table. He clutched her in his arms, their hearts pounding in unison, and she looked up at him with eyes at once submissive and demanding. She plunged her tongue into his startled, yet receptive mouth. He had lifted her off the floor, laid her taut, glistening body on the table, shoving books aside onto the floor... No--best not to think about that, he thought, shaking his head. Something else... French verbs! Je suis, tu es, il est...
Especially over at the Rosenbergs', where Willow snuggled more deeply under the comforter as she rolled over onto her back, smiling. She gasped and sighed, and settled back into her pillow.
Morning came, as mornings tend to do. California sunbeams filtered through the leaves, leaving spring shadows on the walls of Sunnydale High. Buffy slumped on a bench in the schoolyard, staring at the notebook in her lap as if the words were written on the ground two feet beneath it. Xander slunk across the lawn up to her bench.
"Hi." She jumped about a foot, not noticing his involuntary flinch. "Hey, sorry! I didn't know you'd be so touchy today."
"Sorry. I didn't sleep very well last night." She settled onto the bench and gestured for him to join her. "How about you?"
Xander yawned. "Oh, you know that Herman Hesse... Couldn't put it down!"
"You stayed up all night reading your class assignment? What happened? Did a community college rep threaten to recommend you for the remedial everything program?"
A rusty Citroen screeched into the parking lot, and Mr. Giles scurried out, making a beeline for the library. "Could that be our Rupert Giles?" she asked, looking at her watch. "He must have overslept. He's a full twelve seconds late!"
Willow came racing up the terrace to the bench where they sat. "Hey, guys! Isn't it a glorious day?" She plopped down on the ground in front of them, beaming.
"I've seen gloriouser," murmured Buffy. "I think somebody's been doing intravenous coffee..."
"Yeah," protested Xander, "why are we grumpy, sleepy, and several other dwarves, and you're revved up like a motorcycle?"
"I dunno," answered Willow, "but I'd better get to gym class, or I'll be late. C'mon, Buff!" She bolted up and sprinted off for the gym building.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," Buffy mumbled. "Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd suspect that Willow's in love..."
Xander stared after her. "Well, there's always Oz..."
Buffy looked puzzled for a moment, then got up to follow Willow. "Oh, yeah,... Oz."
After gym class, Buffy and Willow dawdled in the shower, as they always did on the days when library study hall followed gym. Buffy leaned against the stall wall, letting the cool water do its best to wake her up.
"Buffy?" Willow called from the next stall. "Could you come here a minute?"
Buffy grabbed a towel and peeked around the corner. "Everything okay?"
Willow stood with a towel wrapped around her hips, looking at herself in the mirror. "I dunno. What's that?" She pointed to a strange bruise mark on the underside of her left breast.
Buffy crouched down to get a better view. "I'd definitely say that you have come down with a bad hickey."
"A hickey? But, but..." stammered Willow.
"Tell Oz that discretion is the better part of valor, and that you appreciate his not leaving it on your neck where everyone would talk about it."
"But Oz has never even kissed me there! He's barely kissed me anywhere! You're sure it's not a bruise or anything ordinary?"
"Unless you're a lot clumsier at carrying your books than I gave you credit for, somebody's definitely been suckling at the old Willow teat."
Willow brightened momentarily. "That's it! Vampires! I've been bitten! Haven't I?"
"Nope, sorry," answered Buffy, standing up to look her in the eye. "No fang markings. Dead giveaway... Ooh, sorry about the pun," she countered, trying to cheer up the obviously crestfallen girl.
"That's okay," shrugged Willow. "Just don't tell anybody about this, okay? Especially Oz."
"Especially Oz," agreed Buffy, starting to dress for class, leaving Willow tracing the outline of the mark tenderly with her fingers.
That night, Willow lay in her bed, listening. The only sound was a branch scraping intermittently on her windowpane. She had relocked the patio door three times before turning off the light, and gotten up twice more to check it since then. Her eyelids drooped for a moment, then flew open. There *was* something there.
"Mom?" she called out, hopefully, but not loud enough to call her from across the house. There was no sound.
"Oz?" she tried, peering into the dark corners like a child checking for tigers.
She gulped. "Angel?" she whispered, recalling that she had once invited him in, hoping that he had forgotten about that.
Her pulse began to slow to a normal speed at the lack of response, and she started to relax. She began to say, "Good, no one's there," except all that came out was a "guh" sound before a hand was clamped over her mouth. At least it felt like a hand, but her eyes were still wide open, and they perceived nothing that hadn't been in the room since the lights had gone out. Then there was another hand, only this one traced a line with hot fingertips down the side of her neck, along her throat, and pausing briefly to cup her left breast, making her wince as it touched the purpling mark. She grunted in pain, causing her mouth to be even more tightly muffled. The fingers moved on from her breast down across her stomach, and directly to her clitoris, where they felt like fire. A third appendage, decidedly non-fingerlike, was suddenly thrust into her vagina. With that, she fainted from pain and terror.
Buffy lingered before her closet, trying to select the perfect Saturday morning outfit. The phone rang next to her bed. Before she had a chance to say hello, she could hear Willow raving on the other end. The only words she could make out between the sobbing and the gasping were "Buffy", "hands", and "There's blood". The connection was quickly broken.
Buffy grabbed some jeans and a sweater off the closet floor and pulled them on as she darted down the stairs and out the front door.
"Good morning to you, too," muttered Joyce to the front door, as she emerged from the kitchen.
Buffy sprinted to Willow's house on a hunch, and dashed around to her patio. She looked into the room, where Willow lay sprawled face down on the bed. Buffy summoned her strength and yanked open the door, leaving the metal latch gnarled and useless. "Willow!" she screamed.
Much to her surprise, Willow leaped up from the bed and flung herself at Buffy. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Buffy hugged her friend, stealing glances at her neck for bite marks as best she could through the wildly tossed red hair. "Blood?" she asked.
"Yeah," blurted Willow, pulling herself away and pointing at the bedsheets. "There!"
Buffy hopped onto the bed on her knees, scanning the sheets carefully, until she spotted a small smudge of red in the middle of the bed. "That's it? No vamps?"
"No!" Willow barked angrily, then dissolved into tears, collapsing with her head buried in her arms on the corner of the mattress.
Comprehension slowly dawned on Buffy. "You were raped?" An agonized yelp from Willow was the only answer she received, or needed. She clambered down to the floor and cradled Willow in her arms, rocking her gently. "Oh my God... Who did this? We have to call the police."
"No," wailed Willow, "please, don't tell anybody! I can't..."
"Don't be silly. You have to press charges. Did you get a good look at the guy?"
"No. I couldn't see..."
"Was it too dark? Did he blindfold you?"
"No. It was like there was nobody there. I couldn't see anybody, but I could feel him. There were hands, and, uh, other things..." She lowered her eyes as tears ran down her face.
"You're sure that this wasn't a flesh-and-blood man?"
"Pretty sure. I never unlocked the door..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the door latch dangling from its frame.
"Don't panic. That was me, right now. An invisible rapist, huh?" Willow nodded. "Well, I think it's time we talked to Giles."
"No! I don't want anybody to know!"
"No, Will. We've gotta tell somebody, and maybe Giles will be able to find something in one of his books that will help us. Is that okay?" She grabbed Willow's shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.
"Okay," demurred Willow, trying to look away. "Only, don't..."
"I know," said Buffy, reassuringly, "I'll make Giles promise not to tell Oz."
"No," offered Willow, staring at the floor, "don't tell Xander."
"'Incubus'," read Giles out of a book on ghosts and spirits. "'An evil spirit who preys upon sleepers, often young women, and often for sexual purposes.' So, perhaps you're right, Willow. You don't need to see a doctor."
"Ah," sighed Buffy, "no demon diseases out there... No chance of little baby spirits, huh?"
Willow, who had composed herself enough to sit upright in a library chair, considered the idea that she could have been pregnant, and crumpled onto the table before her.
"Sorry, sweetie," Buffy murmured to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively. "You're not in any danger. You're gonna be okay..."
"No, I'm not. What if he comes back?" she asked, not lifting her head. "He's already been there twice!"
"Twice? Oh yeah, the hickey," Buffy recalled. Willow nodded, which was only visible as a small shudder in the pool of red hair on the table.
Giles looked up from his book. "Are you up for an exorcism, Buffy? That looks like the only way to deal with this thing, unless..."
Buffy looked up at him under a wrinkled brow. "Unless what?"
He struggled to recall where he'd seen her look at him like that before. He had a sudden flash of his dream of her, then buried his gaze once again into the safety of his book. "Er, unless you 'pair it with one who has consorted with a demon', which I think means..."
"Do him myself?" she finished. "I don't know about that..."
Willow raised her head and gave her a frightened, imploring look.
"Well, maybe, but only because I don't want you to be hurt anymore. We could make it a little sleepover. Would that be okay with you?"
"Yeah, I guess so. You'd do that for me?" asked Willow.
"Sure. Go call your mom and see if it's okay for me to stay over tonight." Willow headed out into the hall. Buffy turned back to Giles. "You think my feminine wiles could do this creep in, huh Giles?" She flashed him a determined, winning smile.
He gave her a brave half-smile in return. "They've done in a vampire," he replied, leaving mention of his own surrender unspoken. "I do warn you to be careful. Rape isn't any fun, you know."
"Hey, who said I wasn't doing this willingly? It might be good for me: you know, help wipe away the memory of Angel."
"You may be right. I just, um,... Don't forget that I care about what happens to you, Buffy..."
"Yeah, I know," she answered. "But I care about what happens to Willow, too., and if I can do anything to help, I'm there. Don't worry about me; I'm sure I'll be fine," she asserted, gathering up her things and swinging out the door into the hall.
I'm sure you'll be more than fine, Rupert thought. I'm just sorry I won't be there to watch...
That night, Buffy and Willow sat up late in the patio room, whose door latch had been hastily repaired. They talked about any topic that might take their minds off of the night ahead. Finally, they settled into Willow's bed (after Buffy vetoed Willow's original idea to let her guest have it while she made herself comfortable in the closet), and turned out the light.
"There! That isn't so bad," said Buffy, as calmly as she could muster.
"I guess not," answered Willow, "but can I ask you a big favor?"
"Probably. Try me."
Buffy smiled. "Yeah, I think I can handle that." She gathered the frightened girl into her arms, and they fell asleep snuggled together.
About an hour later, Buffy was awakened by a peculiar sensation. Slowly she whispered, "Will, do you have a dog?"
"No," she replied, half asleep.
"Well, then could you please stop licking my ear?"
"But, I'm not-- Oh my God! If you need me, I'll be in the closet!" Willow jumped out of bed and ran across the room, shutting the closet door behind her, but leaving a small crack from which to keep an eye on the situation.
"Hi, gorgeous," Buffy said to the rest of the room in her sultriest voice. "I've been waiting for you."
She could see no creature and hear no one's breathing except her own, but definitely felt as if there were someone else present. Her face was soon covered with soft kisses, followed by a firm one on her mouth. Invisible hands held her head firmly as an unseen tongue courted hers. The mouth moved down her neck, licking and nibbling her skin as it went. It paused at her breast, and Buffy felt her temperature rise as it teased her nipples beneath her pajama top.
"Hey, don't leave any marks, willya? I've got swim class on Monday." At the outburst, Buffy felt a hand reach for her mouth as if to clamp it shut. Instead, she slyly took a few of the fingers between her lips and began to suck and lick at them. The mouth at her breast paused, seemingly startled, and she took that opportunity to reach for what must be the top of its head, assuming that the rest of its form was human, and push it gently toward her waist. The mouth eagerly followed her lead, and left a line of kisses along her ribcage, pausing to trace her navel with its tongue. The hands left her mouth and settled, one on each breast, to maintain the erection of her nipples.
"Go on. Go down on me. You know you want to. You know I want it," she murmured sexily. The mouth complied slowly, nipping at her pubic hair as it passed. Buffy closed her eyes as she felt warm muscle blanket her clit. There was no breath or saliva, but the touch made the hair on top of her head shudder with pleasure. It darted back and forth, sliding on her juices, as she felt tiny beads of sweat between her breasts.
This activity was not enough to vanquish the evil spirit, so Buffy played her last card. "I wanna come, big boy, but if I'm gonna come, I'm gonna need you inside me. Fuck me. Fuck me now, and fuck me hard!"
The tongue quickly made one last slurp at her clit, and broke away. One of the hands pried apart her labia, and something solid and warm plunged deep into her darkness. Again and again the ghostly penis slid within her sex, until her fingers clawed at the bedclothes, her back arched, and her pleasure came over her like a wave crashing on a beach.
For a moment, she was able to see a brilliant light through her tightly-shut eyes, which suddenly vanished, and all of the appendages disappeared at once. The extra presence in the room was gone.
Willow shyly emerged from the closet. "Uh, are you okay?"
Buffy lay back against the pillow and stretched. "Ohhhhh, yeah," she sighed.
"That was pretty cool!" exclaimed Willow. "All I could see was you on the bed until you, uh..."
"Came?" suggested Buffy.
"Yeah, that's it. Then I could see him, just for a second, all glowing on top of you, and then he sort of blew up and was gone."
"That figures. Put out for a guy, and then he takes off. I bet he'll never call or anything..." Buffy slowly sat up to face Willow, who sat on the edge of the bed wearing a very disgruntled expression.
"You're kidding, right?"
"Yes, of course I'm kidding. Can I use your shower? I'm a little, uh, wrung out here."
"Oh, sure!" Willow answered. "There are extra towels in there already... Oh, and I guess I had better thank you for your help!"
"No problem," replied Buffy, climbing out of bed and giving her friend a hug. "It was my pleasure..." Willow couldn't help noticing the wicked grin on Buffy's face as she brushed past her.
Monday morning Buffy and Willow sat whispering excitedly in the library, waiting for Giles to arrive. At precisely eight twenty-nine, he came breezing in the door, and smiled at the girls.
"Good morning, ladies!" he called out.
"Good morning, Mr. Giles!" they sang back.
"So, I'm assuming that your weekend activities went as planned? All your demons exorcised?"
"Yup," answered Buffy. "I even think I shook out some of the Angel nightmares."
"Yeah," responded Willow. "You slept for about sixteen hours straight yesterday!"
"True, and no critters came calling on you last night, either," teased Buffy. "Though I might have enjoyed an encore performance!"
Willow thumped her on the head with a pencil. "NO THANK YOU!" she chanted, "I think there's been quite enough incubus activity in my room for a long time to come!"
"Uh, maybe I should come back later..." said the person who had just entered the library, who happened to be Oz.
"Oh my God..." Willow's voice trailed off.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked.
"Not really," began Buffy. "As a matter of fact, there's something I think you should know..."
"NO!" stage-whispered Willow.
Buffy calmly whispered back to her, "Face it. He cares about you, too. I'm pretty sure that he can help you over this much better than I can."
"I don't know..." Willow rebutted, querulously.
"What's all this about? I heard something about an incubus..." Oz said to Willow.
Buffy nudged Willow out of her seat towards Oz. "Go on, tell him..."
"Well," she began hesitantly, "I had been saving myself for you, and, well..."
"So, you've still got yourself, haven't you?" Oz asked.
"Um,... yeah, but..."
"So you can save it for me and give it to me when you're ready, okay?", he said, kissing her on the forehead.
"Okay," she replied, beginning to smile confusedly.
"C'mon. I'll walk you to class." He led her out the door, and she shrugged over her shoulder at Buffy before they disappeared into the now-bustling hallway.
Giles turned back to look at Buffy. "So, I'm sorry if I left you with a task that was too hard for you..."
"Naaah," retorted Buffy. "It was just right."
"Oh... Good," a flustered Giles answered.
"Training right after school, right?" Buffy reminded him, collecting her books and heading for her first class.
"Oh, right," replied Giles, not letting her see him swallow hard.
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