herself_nyc (herself_nyc) wrote in herself_nyc_fic, @ 2007-10-06 20:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | s/b fic, the proper slayer |
THE PROPER SLAYER (pt 17 of ?)
Buffy's on the road again with the Spike whose soul she both bestowed and took away again.
Love doesn't seem like enough to go on, but she can't bring herself to leave it a second time.
Fic set in an AU early season 3 time period. A coda, more than a sequel, to Let's Get Lost.
Previously ...
Then, with gentlemanly gentleness, he rolled her down again, until they were lying side by side, her leg hooked high around his flank, where they could fuck very slowly and she could taste the tang of her own blood as he kissed her.
In the cocktail lounge attached to the old motel, what lights there were, were dim and red, and the atmosphere was redolent of char-broiled meat, cigar smoke, and spilled liquor. When they entered, just after sundown, the place was nearly emptyjust a couple of lone men, one at each end of the bar, and the waitress who came out of the shadows to seat them in a booth.
The menus looked like they'd been printed in 1968, the prices updated with typed slips scotch-taped on. It was nearly too dark to make it out, but before she could start to read it, Spike plucked it out of her hand. "Know what you want."
"What?"
"Great big steak," he said, addressing not her but the waitress who had reappeared with her pad. "Two of 'em, rare. An' you can bring us a bottle of Jack Daniels."
When they were alone again, Spike rose and slipped into her side of the booth. "Can hear your belly rumbling."
"I am hungry. I haven't eaten since we left Sunnydale."
"Could ring up your mum while they're getting our supper."
She glanced at him. They'd been close all day, hugged up in the car, and for the last three hours, ferociously entwined in the room. But she was still glad to be in contact with him, her bare arm in contact with his sleeve, his hand curling now around hers. "Go on, saw a phone down by the loos."
"Not yet. Anyway, she's probably driving home from the gallery right now." She wondered if her mother had gone to work that day. Well, why not? She'd have seen the note before she left the house, and known there was no point running around trying to track her down. Not again.
"If you don't ring her, I will."
"You'll do no such thing."
"Did you tell her you'd gone with me?"
"... No." She paused. "Believe me, it wouldn't make her feel better."
"Miss Annedoesn't mean you need to cut her out altogether."
"Spike. How are you going to pay for our steaks? For the room?"
He rolled his eyes. "Pay for it. Like anyone. Not going to eat the desk clerk, if that's what you mean."
"But where do you get the money? You steal it."
"You seem pretty sure."
"I know you steal."
"Take what I want, yeah, have as good a time as I can, whenever I can. But when it comes to real money ... got a bit."
"What does that mean?"
"Been around a long time. There's places that clever old families ... an' clever old individuals ... keep their dosh."
"You have a bank account."
"You make it sound so suburban."
"Well, what are you talking about? Spell it out for me, I'm not old and clever."
"The Aurelian Clanthat goes back through Darla to the Master an' back before him though don't ask me where or howhas its resources. There's banking houses, private ones, ancient ones, that don't advertise, that deal in our sort of thing. Drusilla had her share doled out to her when she'd lasted twenty years, an' I got the same myself, in 1900. Now Dru's gone, I own her mite along with mine."
"Vampires have trust funds?"
"Aurelians have. An' when Dru an' I came into a bit of the shiny in our adventures, sometimesnot alwayswe'd chink some away for a rainy night. Mounts up, it does, over the decades. Mind you, it's not like we'd spend money for anything we couldn't get some other way. But even so, needed readies for some necessaries that don't come convenient on credit or fangs. Train tickets an' that sort."
"How much money do you have?"
"Enough to look after you comfortably."
"You really have no conscience, do you? I keep thinking that if you'd just try you'd develop one, but I guess that's like thinking if I just tried I could grow a tail."
"Convinced you can do anythin' you put your mind to, Slayer. But don't see what I need a bloody conscience for. I've already hung up my fangs for you."
"That's a lie."
"Haven't killed anybody since I fell for you."
"You know, that's a detail that really doesn't stand in for the whole." Twin jets of hostility and a weird relief flared up in her. In his grasp she was capable of forgetting everything but her love, but that condition wasn't permanent. She remembered herself now, that she was a slayer, that changed as she was since the end of Angel, she couldn't change enough to overlook certain facts.
This would make it easier, to do what she'd intended to, coming here with him.
Before Spike could answer, the waitress arrived with the steaks, swimming in buttery blood.
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