TITLE         : Rude Awakening.
AUTHOR        : Black Widow
EMAIL         : bw@l...
FEEDBACK      : Whatever.
SUMMARY       : Vengeance. But for whom?
SPOILERS      : Somewhere in the middle of S4, 
RATING        : NC-17
PAIRING       : Joyce/Anya
DISCLAIMER    : The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
                Enemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, and Greenwolf Productions, 20th
                Century Fox, the WB Network, and whoever else may have a
                hold on them. The situation is wholly mine, and I do
                not mean to infringe upon any copyrights.
ARCHIVE/DIST  : List archives only. No exceptions.
NOTES         : Set in the middle of S4. This started out as a one-off
                short smut-fic but it's kinda growing. There will be a
                smuttier sequel at some point.

*

The insistent knocking at the door woke her. Joyce looked at her
watch: still not yet midnight and she'd only just managed to get to
sleep. The knocking became louder and she knew she couldn't ignore it.
She never could; not answering was just so rude. Slipping on a robe
she rushed downstairs to open the door.

"Hi, I'm Anya," and the young girl breezed past a startled Joyce into
the house.

Joyce stared after her. She'd been told about Anya: one-time demon
stuck in a girl's body. "Yes. Ah..."

"Close the door, it's cold out there!" Anya shivered; she was wearing
only jeans and a flimsy T-shirt.

Closing the door without thinking Joyce looked at her. "Anya. It's
late. What, ah, can I do for you?" She was always ready to help
Buffy's friends. Even annoying, rude ones.

"Good. That's alright then."

Anya looked relieved but Joyce was taken aback and didn't have a
clue. "I'm sorry Anya, it's late, I'm tired. What on Earth are you
talking about?"

"Sex."

"Sex?" This was going way too fast for her.

"Yes, sex. I want to have sex with you."

Joyce stared at the girl in disbelief. She'd heard she was blunt - Mr.
Giles often complained about her, occasionally wishing Cordelia hadn't
left - but... "Anya, even if I was inclined to have... what am I
telling you this for? I think you've made a big mistake." Pulling her
robe closer about her Joyce went to open the door but Anya stopped
her.

"Oh. I thought you would. Buffy said you were repressed and needed..."

"Buffy said what?!" Joyce stood there amazed.

"She said you were repressed. On account of Giles and some robot -
which I really didn't understand - and not having had a man for years
and..."

"What makes you think I..." and damn Buffy's mouth.

"Oh, you weren't my first choice. Willow insisted she wasn't gay
but... so I asked Tara - even though she's fat and whines a lot - but
she said she was waiting for Willow. So I asked Buffy because it's
obvious she's got a thing for Willow and she said I'd be better off
asking you."

Joyce listened to the words but they didn't make any sense. Who was
Tara? And how could Buffy have a thing for Willow? And why was she
still listening?

"So, do you want to have sex?"

"Anya, you're..."

"I've brought toys." Joyce noticed the bag slung over her shoulder.

Still incredulous at the girl's cheek she was totally stunned when
Anya pulled her into her arms and kissed her full on the lips. Worse,
her mouth opened automatically and before she knew it Anya's tongue
was licking at hers and... she managed to pull away gasping for
breath.

"See? I'm not bad at kissing."

Before Joyce could say anything Anya's lips were on hers again, her
tongue probing, and Joyce found herself putting her arms around Anya
and returning the kiss.

As they broke apart Joyce looked at Anya wondering how she could
have... Buffy knew, but she *never* talked about it. The idea of...
whatever she was thinking was lost as Anya pulled her close again and
started to kiss her neck and caress her body.

She was too tired to think and too surprised to make sense of what was
happening. Her arms were still around Anya, unconsciously stroking her
back as... the way Anya was making her feel was so... yet...  she was
torn between pushing her away or... or?

She felt Anya lift the bag off her shoulder and lower it to the floor.
Now she could pull away and... but far too quickly her robe was being
pushed off her shoulders and Anya's hands were all over her. She
imagined Buffy laughing as she told Anya what she was like and... what
Anya was doing felt so good and... she didn't repress, it was just...

*

Joyce opened her eyes and saw Anya looking down at her. Trying to sit
up Anya shook her head and held her down. Feeling a pain in the back
of her head she reached up and felt a small bump.

Vaguely she remembered Anya kissing her and... somehow she was lying
on her bed with Anya sitting beside her. She looked at Anya, confused.
"What happened?"

"You fell over." Seeing that Joyce was expecting something more, she
continued. "We were kissing, I touched you there," Joyce gasped as
Anya put a finger inside her, "and you fell over. You bumped your head
on the coffee table."

Joyce shook her head and winced at the ache. Slowly reaching down she
took Anya's hand and removed her finger. Her head hurt, the  girl was
impossible and, "I think you'd better leave," her touch felt good but
she was just too confused.

Anya shook her head and just sat looking at her. Not looking at her
face, but looking at her body. Joyce tried to sit up far too quickly
and felt dizzy. As her head hit the pillow she groaned at the pain.

"It's not my fault that you got hurt," Anya told her. "If you can't
stand up when someone kisses you, you should have told me." Joyce
frowned at the girl's logic. "But for some reason I don't understand I
feel guilty and I should stay with you. You probably have a concussion
- that's where people hit their heads and pass out - and George
Clooney says you shouldn't move. I saw that on Xander's television."

With her head throbbing, Joyce didn't feel like moving at all, but she
could do without Anya being there. And she could do with something to
cover her as well.

"Anya, please, I'm alright. You don't have to..."

"Oh, good." Quick as a flash she was off the bed, out the door and
running down the stairs.

Surprised at her sudden exit, Joyce thanked heaven and started to get
under the covers. Then she realised she didn't hear the door close as
Anya left. Struggling to sit up, thinking she'd have to do it herself,
she heard Anya's footsteps on the stairs. Leaning on her elbows, she
looked in wonder as Anya appeared in the doorway with her bag.

Seeing Joyce not lying down, Anya frowned at her. "Didn't I say George
Clooney says you shouldn't move?" dropping the bag next to her head,
making her wince, Anya gently pushed on Joyce shoulders to make her
lie down. Joyce could see Anya thinking. Then, softly, she ran her
fingers through her hair. "There, there. Lie still." Seeing Joyce
frown, "It's supposed to be comforting," she added.

"Anya, please..." Joyce pleaded.

"You see? I was right; you're not frigid."

***

"Buffy, how could you?!"

"All I said was 'you've got more chance of laying my Mom than you have
of getting me into bed'."

"But to Anya?"

"I know, but I wasn't thinking. She spooked me."

"You're sure that's all you said?"

"Well, not exactly, no."

"Buffy?!"

"Well, I might - don't look at me like that Will, it's my mother you
know - I might have said she repressed a little bit."

Willow frowned at the word.

"Will, I wasn't thinking! I was scared. I mean, icky much." Buffy saw
the annoyed look in Willow's face. "It's not my fault; she came on to
me!"

"So now Anya thinks your mother is an easier lay than you, who
represses her feelings towards other women?" Willow felt herself blush
at the thought. And she hadn't intended to make it sound like Buffy
was easy.

"Well, not exactly, no." 

"No?"

"Actually, I think I said she might need warming up first." Willow
glared at her.

***

To Joyce's befuddled mind Anya's thought processes were a complete
mystery. "Frigid?"

Extracting a bottle from her bag, she showed it to Joyce. "Buffy said
it might take a bottle of wine to get you going, warm you up a bit.
But since you want to anyway..." 

"I want to?" Joyce wondered how Anya worked that one out?

"You see? I was right." Gleefully Anya pulled her T-shirt over her
head and wriggled out of her jeans.

"I meant..."

"Yes, I know," pulling off her bra and panties.

"Anya!" Joyce was exasperated at trying to get through to the girl.

"Joyce," climbing on top and pinning Joyce to the bed so she couldn't
move. "This is going to be fun."

Whatever she said was being taken the wrong way. "No, Anya, stop,"
trying to be more direct. The girl had a one track mind.

Instead of stopping she just grinned at her. "Hey, you've played this
game before!"

As Anya tried to kiss her Joyce tried to remain calm and still. She
wasn't going to give her any encouragement to carry on. She hoped.
With Anya licking at her lips and teasing her, gently nibbling at her,
Joyce tried to ignore the excitement rising within her. Her heart was
beating faster and her head was hurting more as the blood pounded
through it. Being still just made Anya try harder, so she tried to
struggle against her; only this just made Anya - and her - even more
excited.

Holding her down with one hand Anya reached into the bag. "I'm glad
you like this," Anya told her, "cos it's my favorite too. Well,
Xander's pretty boring actually, but these help." Seeing the handcuffs
Joyce began to wonder if Anya wasn't wrong. She watched in silence as
the cold metal bracelets enclosed her wrists, feeling a tingle of
excitement as her arms were pulled to the bedposts.

When the cuffs clicked shut around the posts Joyce felt such a thrill
run through her she couldn't believe it. Staring at Anya's lips she
waited to be kissed.

***

"So?"

"So it's late."

"Well, yes but Anya only ever thinks of the sex. Time of day is
irrelevant to her."

"But Mom can look after herself. She knows better than to open the
door this late at night."

"Don't you think you should check though?" Buffy saw the concern in
Willow's face. She cared so much about everyone else. "At least call?"

"Will! It's one in the morning. What if I wake her up? 'Hi Mom, I
don't suppose you've been attacked by a 1000 year-old lesbian demon in
an 18 year-old girl's body?' Anya's harmless enough. If she does go
see Mom, she'll either be ignored or have the door shut in her face."

"If you say so, Buff. But I'm still worried."

"She'll be safe. You worry too much. I'll go see her in the morning,
okay? Now go to sleep."

Buffy switched off the lights. After a few minutes she turned on her
side to look at Willow, watching the rise and fall of her chest,
imagining. If only Will felt the same way about her. Anya would have
been a poor substitute, but she really didn't want to freak Will. And
her Mom was clever enough to look after herself. Still, she'd check in
the morning anyway.

***

Joyce woke up with Anya still lying underneath her. She had no idea
how she'd finally got to sleep. The last thing she remembered was
laying down over Anya, arms and legs wide and taking her from behind
with a vibrating dildo. The memory brought a wicked smile to her face
which was broadened by the pain of the cuffs digging into her wrists
and ankles.

Anya's pretty face was inches away from hers. Eyes closed, sleeping
peacefully. Careful not to wake her Joyce moved closer and started to
lick her lips, the way Anya had, then starting gently biting as her
lips twitched in response.

As her eyes started to flicker open Joyce stretched her arms and
legs wide, pulling Anya's with her. When Anya's mouth opened in
surprise Joyce attacked it with hers. She couldn't remember whose idea
it was to cuff their wrists and ankles together, but as long as they
were joined together Anya was going nowhere and her mouth was at her
mercy.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Joyce asked her, pausing to get
her breath back. She already knew, but she wanted Anya to tell her.
Wriggling wildly, Anya pulled Joyce's arms down to the dildo still
strapped to her, and struggled to her knees.

"Okay, baby," Joyce whispered into her ear, as the vibrator started to
hum softly. Pulling Anya's arms up behind her back, forcing her head
into the pillows enjoying her muffled complaints, Joyce went to work
on Anya's pretty, white backside.

She hadn't exactly repressed - more like 'once bitten' - and neither
was she frigid. Still, she had to wonder why Buffy had pointed Anya in
her direction. Not that she was complaining. Anya was squirming
appreciatively beneath her, and the head inside her was working quite
well too. And Anya was so persistent - and perceptive - too.

"Wriggle for me, baby," she told her. Her mind had wandered and she
didn't want to miss out. She was enjoying the power she had over Anya,
forcing her arms higher and higher up her back, getting a buzz out of
her complaints, then wondering what else was in her bag. She could
feel herself on the verge of climaxing and she could see Anya start to
shake. Yet it felt so hollow, meaningless. Still, she waited for Anya
to come, smiling at her curses, sensing a kind of irony at her
predicament, understanding why she found Xander boring.

With a final push Anya fell forward and Joyce followed, making sure
the dildo never left her.

"Ow, Joyce, it's hurting."

"Yes, baby," letting Anya's body take all her weight, forcing the
dildo even higher up her. She'd figured out now how her mind worked.
As Anya wriggled she pushed harder to make her stop. It was obvious
now. Closing her eyes and opening her legs wide she kept on pushing,
higher and higher, feeding off Anya's discomfort, finally enjoying her
orgasm fully.

***

Buffy was wide awake, watching Willow as she slept. She looked so
peaceful and she enjoyed watching her smile in her sleep. With Oz gone
she was coping so well. Still, she was concerned about that girl from
her Wicca group who always seemed to be watching her. At least Will
had her studies to keep her occupied when she went on patrol; even
though it was still way too early for all-night cram sessions.

As Willow stirred Buffy jumped out of bed and collected her robe and
dashed to the wash room. She was still pissed at Riley and, starting
the shower, she needed to get Willow out of her mind.

*

"Hey, Buff." Will's smile made her feel awkward as she returned to the
room. "Feeling anxious about your Mom?"

Grateful for the cover she nodded. "I'll go check."

"I'll come with. I've got some free time."

Buffy looked at Will's smiling face. "Making sure I'll go?"

"Buffy! No, of course not. It's just been a couple of weeks since I've been
to the gallery and I want to say hi."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. It'd been nearly a month since she'd seen her
Mom. "You go to the gallery?" Since she'd been preoccupied with Riley
she'd never thought about what Will got up to.

"Yeah. It's a nice place to chill. And your Mom has some of my
favorite tea. Let me get ready; I won't be long."

Mulling the thought over in her mind, she wondered at how much time
Will had for absolutely everybody, even her Mom. Then watching her run
out the door, thinking of her taking a shower, she wondered how many
people knew what Will was really like. Under all those fluffy sweaters
and baggy pants and long skirts was the body of an athlete...

"You okay?"

"Sorry?" Buffy jumped as Will shook her. "Miles away."

"Come on then, let's go check on your Mom. You really shouldn't have
waited if you're that worried."

Buffy shivered at Willow's touch as she pushed her out the door. It
was still early morning and the hall was empty. "Come on, race you,"
and she watched Willows' bottom as she ran down the hall. Shaking her
head, she took off after her. She always let Will win. Only Will
didn't know the real reason why.

As they left the campus, Buffy spotted the Wicca girl in the distance,
shuffling along, watching them. As they made eye contact the girl
looked very sad and turned away, shoulders slumped. Confused now, she
followed Will silently as she set a brisk pace into town. Thinking
about it she wondered if the girl was watching her or Will. She'd just
assumed it was Will cos of the Wicca thing, but maybe it was her. She
always looked so sad, and she always turned away when their eyes met.
She wondered if it was that obvious to everyone apart from Will.
Looking around, to see if anyone else was watching her, she marched
straight into Willow.

"Buffy?!"

"Sorry, Will. Distracted. What?" She looked across the street where
Will was pointing. Punctuality was, like, her Mom's eleventh
commandment. The gallery's lights were still on their overnight
setting and it was obvious it was closed. "Now I'm seriously worried."
Setting off at a run she didn't bother to see if Will followed.

***

"Go on, eat." Joyce watched Anya squirm in her seat. Perhaps she'd
been a bit too hard on her, but when the orgasm hit...

Anya nibbled on a slice of toast, watching Joyce watch her.

"Swallow," Joyce told her, watching the collar at her throat intently,
smiling at the red marks as the collar moved.

"Too tight," Anya stated and Joyce nodded. They understood each other
now.

Filling her mouth with juice, Joyce put her lips to Anya's, relishing
the smile on her face as she drank from her. Buffy, in her own silly
way, had given her back something she missed. Something she'd taken
from her. And she'd helped Anya too. And Anya was a darn sight
cleverer than everyone gave her credit for. Her mind was sharp - like
her tongue - and if people really listened to what she said...

Picking up the last slice of toast, Joyce folded it and put it in
Anya's mouth. She watched the girl chew then twisted her collar as she
swallowed. Anya winced but didn't complain. Joyce took another swig of
the juice to help Anya wash it down but didn't take her lips away.
Sharing the juice they let the kiss develop, holding each other close,
watching each other until Anya finally averted her eyes.

Joyce knew what she wanted and clipped the leash to the collar.
Sliding gracefully from the chair, Anya fell to her hands and knees.
With a sharp tug Joyce led her around the table. Once, twice, three
times before leading her into the sitting room, stopping her in front
of the armchair.

"Stay," Joyce commanded, letting the leash trail down her back,
leaving the handle swinging annoyingly between her legs. Returning to
the kitchen she cleared away the dishes, keeping an eye on Anya to see
if she moved. Everything tidied she poured herself a coffee, picked up
the handcuffs and returned to the armchair.

She'd have to do something to protect the furniture later, but today
she'd make do with a couple of small cloths. Deliberately snapping the
bracelets tight she cuffed Anya's wrists to the legs of the chair.

Sliding into the chair, Joyce positioned herself in front of Anya's
face and rested her feet on her back and waited. She knew Anya was
just as anxious to start as she was. Taking a sip of the coffee -
extra strong - she regarded Anya. Her nose was inches from her. Joyce
knew her scent would be driving her to distraction yet she stayed
perfectly still; her nipples, erect on her small breasts, would soon
be demanding attention. And her own sweet sex would be aching.

Knowing the wait would make it so much better she kept them both still
while she sipped slowly at the coffee. Buffy had made a mess of her
life in more ways than the obvious. Anya was just what she needed, and
with Buffy out of the house...

Finally, setting the cup aside, she lifted a foot off Anya's back and
hooked it in the handle of the leash, letting it take the weight of
her leg and smiling as Anya tried to keep her head still. Pulling
gently she let the chain swing against Anya's mound, testing her.
Seeing her hips move she pulled sharply, yanking her head up and
making her cry out. The sparkle in her eyes amazed Joyce as she looked
up at her before lowering her head, gasping as the chain rubbed
against her.

Resting a hand on her head and wrapping her fingers in her hair she
let Anya lick her. As her head moved so did the chain; as her hips
moved so Joyce pulled. Satisfied with what Anya was doing to her,
Joyce closed her eyes and settled comfortably back in the chair,
stroking her hair and letting her foot swing. As Anya's tongue began
to work it's magic Joyce began playing with her own breasts, teasing
at her nipples and let her mind drift. 

***

Buffy saw the Jeep still in the drive. Not that its presence meant
anything. Stopping to get her breath back she heard Will running to
catch up. Looking back she watched the red-head: her short her
flopping about; her small breasts bouncing slightly under her fluffy
sweater, face flushed with the exercise. Only Buffy imagined a
different kind of exertion as Will came to a stop and leaned on her. 

As Buffy looked away Will took her hand. "Come on, then," she pulled
the Slayer to the door. "I'll use magick on the lock, it'll be quieter
than your key, so if your Mom... um, we'll have surprise on our side."
Willow stood looking at her. "Um, I'll need both hands."

Buffy blinked. "Oh, sorry," not letting go.

"Don't be so worried, Buff," giving her hand a comforting squeeze and
pulling it free.

Eyes closed, Willow waved her hands in front of the lock and muttered
some words Buffy didn't understand. Slowly the door pushed itself
open.

*

Sighing contentedly Joyce was in heaven, smiling to herself at the
little purring sounds as Anya's tongue continued to work it's magic.
Anya's hips were wriggling happily but Joyce didn't mind, the pleasure
would perfectly complement the discomfort she was in.

"What the?!"

Joyce was far too relaxed to care at the surprise, and actually got a
thrill at the sound of her daughter's voice. Being caught. Again.

"Hi, Honey," Joyce opened her eyes and smiled at Buffy. Except this
time she wasn't going to panic. "Hi Willow, how are you?" she asked
the deeply blushing girl who was staring fixedly at the ceiling. They
could discuss their own definition of repression later. For now, she
was enjoying the look on Buffy's face as Anya continued to lick her.
"We weren't expecting to see you."

The shock on her face was a delight, and the way she stared at Anya...
Joyce shivered with pleasure. "Honey?" Buffy looked up. "Would you
mind waiting in your room for a few minutes?"

Mutely shaking her head Buffy reached out for Will's hand. She was
still staring at the ceiling and her face was a gorgeous crimson
color.

"No, Honey, I need a quick word with Willow first." Buffy glanced at
Willow then at Anya and Joyce laughed. "Don't worry, Honey, we're not
going to hurt her."

"Mom?!" Seeing her just stare back, trying to ignore the sighing,
Buffy shook her head and marched up the stairs.

"Be a sweetie, Willow, and fetch the key that's on the kitchen table."

"But..."

"Key?" Joyce watched Willow wander off, looking over her shoulder.

"I think you should stop now, Baby," she whispered to Anya, who looked
up disappointed.

"If you wouldn't mind?" she asked Willow, indicating the cuffs. "Just
the bracelets around the chair," smiling at Anya. They were both
enjoying Willow's discomfort now as she blushed so sweetly.

Getting to her feet carefully, Anya stood naked before Willow, daring
her not to be interested. "Robes," Joyce told her, smiling as she
sulked off up the stairs.

"Won't you sit down Willow? Please?" Joyce watched her try to find
somewhere to look. "I have to explain this to you before I tell
Buffy.

"Anya isn't the most tactful person in the world, but she is rather
perceptive. And I can guess why you're here; you've come to save me?"

"Yes, but..."

"Let me finish, then you can get Buffy. I'm sorry you caught us like
this. I maybe expected Buffy to show eventually, but not so soon."
Willow looked apologetic. "Ah, you went to the gallery first?

"Mmm. I haven't been in a couple of weeks."

"You're a smart girl, Willow..."

Anya laughed. Willow watched her come down the stairs and raised an
eyebrow. 

"Anya!" Joyce didn't have to look, she could see Willow's wide-eyed
stare.

"Oh, come on Joyce! It's not as if... oh, okay." She made a play of
putting her robe on for Willow before sitting on the arm of Joyce's
chair.

"As I was saying," Joyce slipped into her own robe, "you're smart, and
you'll understand better than Buffy did." Anya laughed again. "And
Anya, as I said, is perceptive. 

"She wouldn't have asked you or Tara if she didn't have good reason.
However..." Joyce waited for Willow to put two and two together.

"Oh! You're not repressed! Buffy is!" shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I
didn't mean it to sound... Oh, dear."

Joyce laughed. "Something like that. Only Buffy never came to terms
with... I think you can work it out?"

Willow nodded. "Your sexuality. Oh! You, um... and she..."

"Has the hots for you."

Willow was stunned. 

"Thank you, Anya, but I think Willow was going to say that because of
me Buffy is confused about herself." Willow nodded. "Now, as for what
you saw. I'm not going to pry, and we're not going to say anything to
Buffy. You and Tara are still very young; you have your needs. Anya
and I are much older and, let's just say, what Anya and I want is
slightly different; we both have a past..."

Willow looked at both of them and nodded. Although she'd rather not
think about what they were doing, Anya definitely had a past...

"Now, if you go get Buffy, you can tell her we just apologized to you.
Okay?"

*

Willow knocked on Buffy's door and almost fell in the room as Buffy
opened it so quickly.

"Um," as Buffy rushed past her, "don't be angry with them, Buffy," she
called out after her.

Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs, saw her mother with her arm
around Anya, and stopped, looking back up at Willow.

"Honey, I'm sorry you both saw us like that. It must be terribly
embarrassing for you."

"For me?! What about Willow?!"

"Um, Buffy. It's okay." Willow stood firm as Buffy glared at her.
"Your Mom apologized, and I'll never mention it. It never happened,
okay? If I hadn't been so worried..."

"What?!" Buffy looked at her mother and Anya, arms around each other,
then at Willow. She knew there was some conspiracy, but she couldn't
figure it out. "But, Will, they were..."

"Doing something private that we shouldn't have intruded upon."

"Oh, great! Now you're taking the responsibility for their...
whatever."

"Buffy?"

"No, Mother, I'm sorry. I... need to think." Shaking her head, Buffy
turned and ran out the house.

"I should..." Willow looked concerned.

"No, dear, give her time. Let her run. If you don't say anything
neither will she. She'll get over it." Joyce looked at Anya.

"You think?" Anya muttered with a grin.

***

"Oh my," Joyce said finally as Willow left. "What now?"

"Indeed." Anya held out her arms, with the handcuffs still locked in
place on her wrists.

"I mean..."

"I know."

"Poor Willow..."

"Not yet."

Joyce looked at Anya. She needed something to take her mind off Buffy.
It was bad enough that she was always worried about something nasty
happening to her. And now Buffy had walked in on her again. And it was
so easy to blame Anya. But then, that was what Anya wanted.