My far better half challenged the impure-l listers for fic:

>Here are the requirements:
>It has to be Buffy/Angelus. I don't care however many people show
>up as long as Buffy and Angelus are key.
>These 11 items must be included:
>A whip
>A leather corset
>A jewel-handled dagger (you can pick whatever gem you want)
>A silver goblet
>2 crimson silk scarves
>A fireplace
>A book of Victorian erotica (extra points if you actually quote a
>Black nylons
>A vanilla scented candle
>A red violin
>A dozen red and black satin pillows
>Smut is optional, though I'm pretty sure this practically screams
>'SEX!!!" And it really would make me very happy. I'm lacking in the
>happy department.

I had intended on writing my usual dark, violent, lust drenched erotica in response to this challenge...but I'm in a weird, weird mood.

So this happened instead.


TITLE: The Seduction





DISCLAIMER: I think we all pretty much understand by this point that the characters do not belong to me. Which saddens me greatly, but is a fact I must accept.

SYNOPSIS: Buffy comes home from patrolling to find a seduction scene waiting for her.

DEDICATED: To Tamara, who wanted fic...although probably not THIS fic, and to the ladies on the Cage, for understanding why I haven't written anything for them yet.

It was clearly the setting for one hell of a seduction, Buffy Summers mused as she strode, dirty, tired, and battle weary, into the mansion.

A fire was roaring in the fireplace, wood crackling cheerfully as the orange flames consumed everything in their path. A vanilla scented candle was lit on the mantle, next to a silver goblet filled to the brim with a red liquid. In front of the fireplace, laid out in a half circle, were a dozen red and black satin pillows just begging to be lounged upon.

Buffy's aching body was all for that.

She walked closer to the makeshift altar, noticing the book of Victorian erotica laid out next to a beautifully braided leather whip. Also nearby was a red violin, and a silver dagger with an onyx and ruby encrusted handle.

It was an interesting assortment of items, to say the least.

"Angelus?" she called out as she dropped her bag next to the pillows. "Baby? Where are you?"

Even though he had lost his soul again (and had she known that merely giving him a blowjob would have caused a moment of true happiness to occur, she probably would have abstained...well, then again...maybe not), he was behaving relatively normally. That was due largely in part to the massive doses of anti-psychotic medication he took on a daily basis. Whatever was in them worked miracles to control his desire to send the earth into hell. And she got the best of both worlds...Angel fighting beside her AND the leather pants.

Life was good.

It would be better, however, if she knew where he was.

"Sweetheart?" She tried calling him again, even as she resisted the urge to sink into the welcoming softness of the pillows.

"I'm here," his deep, dark voice called out, and she instinctively shuddered as she grew wet in response.

She turned towards her unholy lover.

Angelus stood before her, clad in a tightly laced leather corset, leather g-string, and black nylons held up with a leather garter belt. He had a crimson silk scarf in each hand and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed as she caught sight of him in all his cross-dressing, leather-wearing glory, "I think it's time to up your meds again."




I don't know what came over me. I just was accosted by the image...and I went with it. Besides, Tamara doesn't need me to write smut for her, 'cuz I give her happies in other ways.

And you all can take that however you want.