Disclaimer: I do not own Sarah Michelle Gellar. Let's be very clear on that point, 'cause she could totally kick my ass. I don't own Marti Noxon either, thanks. Nor do I own James Marsters, more's the pity. The characters of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are property of Mutant Enemy Productions (Grr, argh) and FOX Television, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is property of the author, and may not be reproduced, retransmitted, or posted anywhere without my expressed permission.
Warnings/Ratings: Rated PG-13 for nudity and four-letter words.
Spoilers: Mild spoilers for "BTVS" 6th-season episode "Wrecked"
Credit: Credit for this insane plot bunny goes to Siubhan. Blame her. It's not my fault. I swear.
Sarah Michelle Gellar strolled into the sound studio, slurping a decaf fat-free mochaccino. "Hey Marti," she said, "I got a message you needed me to re-dub some of my dialogue from the last episode."
"Hi Sarah!" said executive producer Marti Noxon, swiveling around in her chair to face the star of her show. "Yeah, thanks for coming in. Come have a look at this."
Sarah walked over behind Marti's chair and looked at the small TV screen displayed amongst the banks of controls and switches. Marti pushed a button. On the screen, Sarah (as Buffy) and James Marsters (as Spike) were kissing amid the ruins of their abandoned building. Then James turned Sarah around and laid her down on a conveniently placed pillow, kissing her all the while. As he pulled back to deliver his next line, Marti pressed the Pause button and turned again to look up at Sarah, who just stared blankly at her.
"Well, I'm sure you see the problem!" Marti exclaimed.
"Uh ... no?" Sarah replied, confused. Marti looked quite surprised.
"What? But it's obvious. Your moans of passion aren't, you know, passionate enough."
"Oh." Sarah frowned a little, not sure she agreed, but hey, Marti was the boss. "Okay, well, let's get to it."
"Great." Marti turned to the sound technician sitting nearby as Sarah moved over to sit on the little stool beside the recording mike. "Ready, Bruce?"
"Yes ma'am," Bruce nodded, flipping some switches. "Go ahead."
"Okay Sarah, now this is the part where you're lying down and Spike is kissing your neck. Really show me how turned on you are!" Marti exhorted.
Sarah thought this was pretty damn weird, but whatever. She turned to the mike and said, "ooh, ohh, ahh." Marti made a throat-cutting gesture at the technician.
"No, no!" Marti cried. "Sarah, come on, you barely even sound excited to be here. Put some life into it!"
"Okay, okay, sorry," said Sarah quickly. "Let's try again." She cleared her throat briefly and tried a low moan. "Ohhh!"
"Hmm ... not too bad," mused Marti. "Bruce?"
"Just a minute." Bruce fiddled with some controls, mixing the new sound track in with the video track, and then played it back.
"Ohhh!" said Buffy on the screen as Spike nuzzled her neck. Marti frowned critically at it.
"It's better, Sarah," Marti said, "but it's still not enough. I need more passion!"
Sarah was getting a little creeped out by now, but she shrugged it off. She thought back to her days on 'All My Children' and all the steamy love scenes she had participated in back then. Closing her eyes, she leaned toward the mike and purred, "Ohhh, Spike!" As she spoke, she heard the soft sound of the door opening and closing. She opened her eyes to see James Marsters walking in, buck naked. Sarah stared.
Marti turned from her consultation with the sound technician to see what was going on. "Oh, hi, James," she greeted cheerfully. James gave her a smile that looked quite fake to Sarah's eyes.
"Uh, Marti, what...?" Sarah stuttered. James rolled his eyes in her direction as if to say, 'don't ask.'
"Oh, don't mind him, Sarah," said Marti. "You know, since I decided to feature a lot more naked Spike in the upcoming episodes, I've asked James to just wander around the studio naked from time to time. You know, to help us all stay in the moment."
Stay in the moment? The naked Spike moment? Sarah wondered in utter bewilderment, but she prudently didn't comment. "Uh, so, how was that?" she asked hopefully. Marti scowled briefly.
"It was good, but I still think you can do better. Let's try a few more."
Sarah groaned inwardly and returned once again to the mike. Geez, how much more sex could she put into two seconds of moaning? "Ohhh! Spike!"
"No, no!" cried Marti as James stared in amazement. "Don't say his name! It's all wrong!"
"What? What's wrong with it?" Sarah couldn't believe this. She was supposed to be out shopping, dammit. She and Freddie still had to pick tile for their bathroom!
"Sarah, come on, you're aroused beyond all capacity for rational thought at this point," Marti was explaining, as poor Bruce the technician fidgeted in his chair, glad that he wouldn't be called upon to stand up any time soon. He *really* hoped his wife would be home on time tonight. "Seriously now," Marti went on, "I need to hear that you're so turned on you can't even form a coherent word. Let's try it again."
Sarah sighed deeply. But then an idea came to her. She thought about a porno movie that she and Freddie had watched the other night. Her lips curved a bit and she turned to the mike, took a deep breath, and let out a truly obscene moan of utter carnal pleasure, imitating the woman in the porn movie. There, she thought with satisfaction, that oughta show Marti how ridiculous she's being.
"Omigod! That was PERFECT!" screeched the producer, to Sarah's complete shock. "Bruce, cue that up right away!"
"You got it," said Bruce, sliding his chair closer to the controls so that his legs were hidden underneath the desktop. Sarah looked wide-eyed over at James, who was leaning against the wall watching the action with an expression of disbelief.
In another moment Bruce had done his magic and played the clip back. On the little screen, James kissed Sarah and leaned her back, and as he moved his head down to her neck, she let out the raunchiest porn-movie moan possible. Sarah cringed in embarrassment. Marti beamed.
"Great work, Sarah! Just wonderful!"
"Uh, but Marti, I was just-"
"-doing your absolute best! I know! Thanks very much, Sarah. You can go now."
Dazed, Sarah stood up and grabbed her purse. "Uh, um, thanks. See ya."
"Yeah, uh, I gotta go too," said James quickly, making his escape right behind Sarah.
In the hallway outside the sound studio, lying on the floor, Sarah found a small pile of clothing. James went over to it and immediately began pulling it on. "Freezing my huevos off," he griped under his breath.
"Uh, James?" Sarah said a little nervously, politely averting her eyes as he got dressed. "You knew that I was, like, kidding with that last moan there, right? I mean, you got that, right?"
"Well, duh," he said, straightening up and buttoning his shirt. "I thought it was pretty obvious. I mean, you sounded like a porn star, for Chrissake."
"Oh, good," Sarah sighed, relieved. "Is it me," she added, lowering her voice and glancing at the closed door, "or has Marti lately been kind of..."
"Going off the deep end?" James finished for her. "It's not just you. Hell, I thought it was a little over the top last year when she had you giving me a blow-job on screen, but that's Sesame Street compared to some of the stuff we've done this year."
"Yeah." Sarah frowned with concern. "I mean, I know she's excited about being on a network with no Standards And Practices department, but geez."
"Well, I say someone should tell Joss. It can't be healthy for her, she's a grown woman and all."
"I guess. But you know, if Joss steps in, it might mean the end of all those steamy sex scenes you and I have been doing," Sarah pointed out.
James shrugged. "It's probably for the best anyway. You're engaged, and I have a girlfriend." A faint high-pitched sound began to echo down the hallway.
"You have a girlfriend?" Sarah asked in surprise. "When did that happen?"
"Oh, a couple weeks ago. A friend introduced us. I'll bring her by the set one of these days." By the end of the last sentence James had to raise his voice to be heard, as the eerie sound got louder and louder. It was a sort of keening sound. James and Sarah stared at each other in confusion as the accumulated wails of all James's disappointed female fans washed over them and then Dopplered away down the hallway.
"What, what was that?" Sarah asked nervously, looking around with a slight shiver. James looked similarly anxious.
"Beats me," he replied. "This place gives me the creeps. Let's get outta here."
"Yeah," she agreed, following him toward the exit. "It's gotten really weird since they started filming 'Enterprise' down the hall. Maybe it's the ghost of Gene Roddenberry."
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