herself_nyc (herself_nyc) wrote in herself_nyc_fic, @ 2007-08-15 16:55:00 |
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Because he'd made a vow. To the memory of his Drusilla. To Love itself. Until he'd drunk deep from the Slayer, until he felt her heart slow and stop in his arms, he couldn't kill.
She would be his next kill, his great and glorious triumphant kill. But it had to be proper.
And it had to be soon.
Because he was hungry.
But that didn't mean he was gonna starve.
The boy thrashed. He was bigger than Spikeas big as Angelus. Young and strong. But he was crocked when he walked out of the Bronze, and he parted from his friends to go into the alley for a piss. That was a mistake, though it wouldn't be fatal.
He'd never seen Spike coming, and wouldn't see him going, either. In the morning he'd wonder how his neck got punctured.
The boy's skin was hot, his blood 70 proof. Spike ground his cheek into the brick as he sucked him down, listening for the moment when the breathing changed, the heart slowed. The moment of detachment. Dropped him then and walked away, back to his car.
The motel was by the beach, one town over. Slayer wouldn't find him hereshe might ransack all of Sunnydale but it would never occur to her to look any farther afield than that. For all her smarts and sass she could be a bit of a dullard sometimes.
He liked hearing the dull roar of the waves as he lay in bed through the sun-soaked day.
That morning, sated on frat boy, he didn't go to sleep. He'd seen her, and right, it hadn't gone exactly as he'd wanted it to, but ... he'd seen her. Said his piece and felt her anger and apprehension perfume the air. Stirred her up.
Maybe even scared her.
Good. Fear would force her to find her courage. When he fought her, he needed her to be fierce and righteous and strong.
Lying on his back in the air-conditioned room, eyes closed, he stretched and flexed, sighed and relaxed. Things weren't all bad. Yes, he was all alone, and full of vengeance. But his existence that had been pulled inside out was right again. He was Spike once more, all those ugly itchy feelings of guilt and remorse put back in their proper perspectivethe perspective of Who gives a fuck!
He smiled, wrapping his fist around his rising cock, putting himself back there, the rear seat of the car, the hot chirring night, Slayer's heat a knock-out, her heat and her wet needy cunt and breathless mouth. All for him, all her mighty desire and her power, delicious and perfect. He'd made her forget all about Angelus, he was sure of that. Made her forget everything she was supposed to do and be around him, opened her right up to her quivering essence.
She'd belonged to him.
That's how he'd tell it, later. Tell the story of the slayer he seduced, seduced to her marrow so she was all for him ... the story of how he let her go, and came back to kill her right and proper.
What a story it was going to be.
Ptuui. Life sucked. Faith had almost gotten her killed by that Kissy-Toes guy, and now she over to dinner again. This was the third time mom had invited her, and now her mother was actually making 'move in' noisestelling Faith that as long as she would be responsible for her own laundry and tidying her space, she was perfectly welcome to live in the guest room because that terrible motel down by the freeway was absolutely no place for a young girl, and she was giving her The Look now, the Agree With Me Enthusiastically look. Buffy stirred her salad around before she murmured, "Sure. You should do that." Mom liked her because she talked more than Buffy did anymore, and ate more too. She would probably break their food budget, but heyif Mom couldn't think of that herself, Buffy wasn't going to be the bad guy and tell her.
Later that night, while they were patrolling and Faith was peppering her with remarks about how slaying made her horny, it occurred to Buffy to wonder why she was set on disliking Faith.
After all, they had a lot in common, and wasn't she kind of taking some of the heat off? Maybe having Faith live in would distract Mom. Hell, she'd already distracted her friends, who followed her around any chance they had like goslings, and that stupid new watcher Wesley Wyndam-Whatever was more on Faith's case than on hers.
Come to think of it, they had pretty much the same attitude towards him, which was another point in common.
Buffy cut off Faith mid-stream. "Hey. Why do you keep talking about sex? Are you coming on to me?"
Well, didn't that shut her up? Faith's face went through some changes in the next few seconds, 'til it settled on a sly grin that reminded her of ... never mind who. "Why, B? You offerin'?"
Buffy hadn't been offering. She'd never thought about kissing girls, but now she focused on Faith's pouty plum-colored mouth, it looked like something that be interesting to try.
"Do you do that?" She asked more out of curiosity than as a next step.
Faith shrugged. "I could."
"But have you?"
Faith cocked her head. "You're refusin' to tell me any of the good stuff about you and this Angel character, but you want me to tell you if I fuck girls?"
"What? No!" Who said anything about fucking? "I just ... you act like ... I thought you ...."
"You thought everybody's gotta want some of you," Faith said, sidling closer. Then she was right up close, kissing her, and it was weird because they were the same height and Faith's mouth was soft, her face small, she smelled all wrong, and yet Buffy's body responded with that inner kick that made her want more. Despite that, she pulled back.
It was weird. It was weird because when she'd felt Faith's mouth on hers, her slipping tongue, it was Spike her mind fell against. His mouth, his body, she'd grown so used to them, but in that exciting gotta have more way, not in a bored way. And even though she hated him now and would be dusting him soon, all of that was still inside her, messing her around.
Faith was staring. Her eyes reflected the moonlight. "You haven't kissed anybody since Angel, huh?"
Buffy didn't know how to answer this question, until she realized she didn't have to answer it at all. Grasping Faith's face, she took another try. The second time was bettershe concentrated not on what wasn't there, but what was. Faith was all curvy and strong and her hair felt kind of great, and ....
"Yo, wait a mo'," Faith gasped. "Probably shouldn't just give the vamps a free show."
"Vamps where?" She fisted her stake. She hadn't felt the proximity of any vamps.
"Nah, just, any that might turn up." They'd killed a few earlier in the evening but here in Crestview anyhow it was quiet.
Now it was Buffy's turn to hand out the narrowed eye. "You didn't think I would, did you?"
Faith glanced away. "You gonna be one of those girls who's all tease, I'm not playin'. Otherwise, we know where we can go."
An hour later Buffy lay staring at the blinking fairy lights Faith had strung up around her motel room, listening to the gush of water in the bathroom. She was slightly stunned. To the extent she'd ever thought about what women did together in bed, she'd imagined it all soft sighing fluttery touches and gentle little gasps. Turned out thatwhy was it a surprise?Faith was pretty much just like her, only maybe even more so, because some of what Faith had just done to her wouldn't have ever crossed her mind even if she'd been locked in a room and told she had to write out a list of fifty filthy things to do to another girl before she'd be let out.
Faith reappeared then, wrapped in a towel, wet hair dangling. "Feel better now?"
Why was it no surprise that she didn't go in for cuddling?
Not like Spike. Spike had ... Buffy shoved that thought aside with a shudder she chose to assign to revulsion. "Yeah, I'm okay." She was sore and bruised but she'd sure worked off some tension. It was better than nothing. But now she wondered what Faith was thinking.
"Betcha never thought you'd fuck another slayer, right?"
"No, I never did." She was trying to think how she was going to get out of here. Her clothes were all the place and some of them were torn.
"Was all I thought about, soon's I found out there were two of us." Faith's grin was starry. "And now I know." Dropping the towel, she stepped forward, but Buffy put up a hand.
"Look, we"
Faith turned her back smoothly, as if she'd meant to all along, and began to root through one of the bureau drawers. "Whatevs."
"OK, so ... uh ...." Buffy got up, and began looking for her jeans. "Are you still planning to move into our guestroom?"
Suddenly Faith was laughing. "You're smart, B. Really smart."
"Iwhat?"
"Gettin' your Mom to invite me to live in your house. That was clever, all right."
"I had nothing to do withwait! You think I wanted"
Faith gave her a well, duh! look.
"Hey, I don't care what you do. As for this--it was all right but it's not like we're joined at the hip now."
It was clear from Faith's expression that Buffy had stolen her stance.
"Yeah, sure."
"So you can come to Revello or not, but it doesn't mean ...."
"Yeah. I got it. It's not like I'm gonna give up cock for you, get a grip."
"I'm not into anything heavy," Buffy pushed on. Her blouse was in two pieces. She reached over Faith's shoulder to snatch a tee-shirt out of her drawer. "You can lend me this, right?"
The air outside the stinky little motel room was cooler. Buffy took some deep breaths as she walked away. Okay, that was ... confusing. What did I just do? She couldn't even sort out who'd hit on whom, and then apart from all the brand-new sensations and the obscure sense of triumph that always suffused her when she'd come a few times in quick succession, Buffy was left feeling ... odd.
Like she'd done something sneaky. Like she'd cheated. Which made no sense, and God, the sooner she could stake Spike the better she'd feel.
Maybe she could find him now. Get it over with. Get it done.