Author's Notes: Life In The Fast Lane is a one-part story that was written
as an answer to a challenge. The challenge was called "It's what I do in
the middle of the day' and basically wanted us to write about what some of
the characters do in the middle of the day, since the bulk of stories are
written about their nighttime activities. I chose to write it in Spike's
POV (point of view). I have another story that is written in Dru's POV for
the same challenge, although it's not really connected to this story in any
other way.
This story is rated R. Please be careful while reading. There is light sexual content in the story, which makes it rated R.
As far as spoilers go, this story takes place before "Intervention" in season five. Also, this is most definitely not my world or characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
// // denotes internal thoughts.
Enjoy! **~**
His lips curled into a smile as his mind wandered to the possibilities. //It's dark enough to hide a person. A small person. Like Buffy. If she had a mind to hide in the corner and watch me.//
He drew his knees up so he could rest his arms on them, his eyes never leaving the darkened corner. He slowly brought his cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. He let the smoke curl around in his lungs for a while before he let it out. It was another game he played. Not having to breathe made it easy to hold the smoke into his lungs as long as he wanted to. Sometimes he would hold it in, and sometimes he would just stop breathing and let the smoke escape wherever it had an avenue. But he never took his eyes off the dark corner across the crypt.
//Maybe she's there right now. Maybe she's waiting to see what I'm going to do. Maybe we're staring each other down. Don't blink. Don't let her see a weakness.// He took another drag on the cigarette, his movements slow and deliberate.
//I wonder if she'd blink? I wonder who would break? I wonder if after staring at each other all afternoon if she'd make the first move? If I made a move, what would it be?//
Spike grounded out the cigarette beside him, keeping his eyes focused on the darkness.
//I know what I'd have done about two years ago.// He smiled a dangerous smile and touched his tongue to his lips in memory of his badder self.
//First of all I'd get up off my arse and light me a fag.// He slowly stood up, still not letting his eyes travel as his right hand instinctively trailed up to his breast pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. His index finger expertly flicked the top of the box open and his lips pulled out a single cigarette as his finger closed the box and his hand brought the pack to his pocket, letting them drop inside. He let his fingers curl around his lighter and lit the cigarette while his legs got used to the standing position. He had no idea how long he had been sitting, but he knew it was quite a while. He took a drag on his cigarette letting the smoke escape lazily from his mouth. Even the complex swirls the smoke billowed into couldn't make his eyes stray from the dark area where he imagined a now scared, trembling Buffy sat in hiding.
//Then I'd slowly walk to the corner, stopping just in front.// He took his time, letting one foot fall with a clunk and his weight completely shift to that foot before taking another step. His cheekbones jutted out as his lips pursed together in the familiar smile of conquest. He had her now. Now it was just a matter of retrieving her. This was his favorite part. //Fuck the chase. Fuck the feed, although that was a close second to this. It was all about this moment. The moment when I know I have my prey, and she knows it too. The fear mixes in the air and it's the sweetest smell this planet has ever held. Could make a man down right aroused if were of a mind to enjoy those sorts of things.// Spike could feel the familiar stirring of his groin and the tightening of his jeans, but he continued until he could stop directly in front of the darkness. The toes of his boots not quite immersed in the shadows beyond.
//Then with one quick movement I would grab her and yank her out of her hiding place.// He reached down with lighting quick accuracy, his hand grabbing air while his arm yanked back on his imaginary prey. He could feel his arousal seriously begin to swell. He flicked his cigarette off to the side with his free hand and looked right into the eyes of his prey. Or where her eyes would be, if she were Buffy.
//Then I'd pin her against the wall.// He flung his body against the wall, catching himself with his forearms. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against the cool crypt wall, imagining himself looking down into the frightened eyes of Buffy.
//Then I'd lick her neck like some delicious candy and let myself slip into game face. I'd let her feel every ripple on my face. Let her feel the heightened fear.// Unconsciously, Spike's face transformed from the usual smoothness to the ridges and valleys that made his gruesome vampire image all the more scarier.
//I'd sink my teeth into her so slowly; it would be like taking my first virgin. To hear her little gasp, to feel her life flowing into me. I'd take my time with this one. No wham bam you're dead now ma'am. No way. I'd make it slow, painful, and deliberate. I'd make stop when I felt she was passing out and I'd make her scream for me as I made a new place to feed from.// Spike's right hand quickly went down to his jeans, ripping the button fly open and releasing him from his tight prison. His cold hand enveloped him as a light sheen of sweat slicked him down, making friction not a problem. His hand expertly worked his body as his mind still played with the fantasy of feeding off of a scared Buffy. His mind wandering to a time when he could bite without fear, and feed to contentment every time, every night.
//Then I'd turn her. Oh yeah, I'd keep her around so I could play with her tight little body as often as I wanted. She'd be my toy. My childe. I'd slit my wrist and let her suck the blood from me. Her blood. My blood. Oh yeah.// Spike's hand quickened its pace until finally he could feel his seed leave him in one final tug, a groan following closely behind it as he completed what was real, and what was not, together.
Spike slowly moved away from the wall and tucked himself back into his clothes. He lit another cigarette and went to the stone slab that was his bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling.
He didn't even move when the door was kicked open. He knew who it was. His senses were so heightened now he could smell her coming towards the door before she even made a move to kick it.
"What, do you just lie around all day long, or what?"
Spike looked at her as she came closer to where he lay. It was so tempting to grab her. But he was good now. Wasn't allowed.
"Well, yeah, I'm a vampire. Not like I can go frolic in the park during the day." Spike rolled his eyes as he turned them back to the ceiling.
"Yeah, but to lay here and do nothing?" She seemed to be passing judgment on his pathetic life.
He sat up and let his legs dangle over the side of the slab and made eye contact with her.
"It's what I do in the middle of the day."
~The End
This story is rated R. Please be careful while reading. There is light sexual content in the story, which makes it rated R.
As far as spoilers go, this story takes place before "Intervention" in season five. Also, this is most definitely not my world or characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
// // denotes internal thoughts.
Enjoy! **~**
His lips curled into a smile as his mind wandered to the possibilities. //It's dark enough to hide a person. A small person. Like Buffy. If she had a mind to hide in the corner and watch me.//
He drew his knees up so he could rest his arms on them, his eyes never leaving the darkened corner. He slowly brought his cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. He let the smoke curl around in his lungs for a while before he let it out. It was another game he played. Not having to breathe made it easy to hold the smoke into his lungs as long as he wanted to. Sometimes he would hold it in, and sometimes he would just stop breathing and let the smoke escape wherever it had an avenue. But he never took his eyes off the dark corner across the crypt.
//Maybe she's there right now. Maybe she's waiting to see what I'm going to do. Maybe we're staring each other down. Don't blink. Don't let her see a weakness.// He took another drag on the cigarette, his movements slow and deliberate.
//I wonder if she'd blink? I wonder who would break? I wonder if after staring at each other all afternoon if she'd make the first move? If I made a move, what would it be?//
Spike grounded out the cigarette beside him, keeping his eyes focused on the darkness.
//I know what I'd have done about two years ago.// He smiled a dangerous smile and touched his tongue to his lips in memory of his badder self.
//First of all I'd get up off my arse and light me a fag.// He slowly stood up, still not letting his eyes travel as his right hand instinctively trailed up to his breast pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. His index finger expertly flicked the top of the box open and his lips pulled out a single cigarette as his finger closed the box and his hand brought the pack to his pocket, letting them drop inside. He let his fingers curl around his lighter and lit the cigarette while his legs got used to the standing position. He had no idea how long he had been sitting, but he knew it was quite a while. He took a drag on his cigarette letting the smoke escape lazily from his mouth. Even the complex swirls the smoke billowed into couldn't make his eyes stray from the dark area where he imagined a now scared, trembling Buffy sat in hiding.
//Then I'd slowly walk to the corner, stopping just in front.// He took his time, letting one foot fall with a clunk and his weight completely shift to that foot before taking another step. His cheekbones jutted out as his lips pursed together in the familiar smile of conquest. He had her now. Now it was just a matter of retrieving her. This was his favorite part. //Fuck the chase. Fuck the feed, although that was a close second to this. It was all about this moment. The moment when I know I have my prey, and she knows it too. The fear mixes in the air and it's the sweetest smell this planet has ever held. Could make a man down right aroused if were of a mind to enjoy those sorts of things.// Spike could feel the familiar stirring of his groin and the tightening of his jeans, but he continued until he could stop directly in front of the darkness. The toes of his boots not quite immersed in the shadows beyond.
//Then with one quick movement I would grab her and yank her out of her hiding place.// He reached down with lighting quick accuracy, his hand grabbing air while his arm yanked back on his imaginary prey. He could feel his arousal seriously begin to swell. He flicked his cigarette off to the side with his free hand and looked right into the eyes of his prey. Or where her eyes would be, if she were Buffy.
//Then I'd pin her against the wall.// He flung his body against the wall, catching himself with his forearms. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against the cool crypt wall, imagining himself looking down into the frightened eyes of Buffy.
//Then I'd lick her neck like some delicious candy and let myself slip into game face. I'd let her feel every ripple on my face. Let her feel the heightened fear.// Unconsciously, Spike's face transformed from the usual smoothness to the ridges and valleys that made his gruesome vampire image all the more scarier.
//I'd sink my teeth into her so slowly; it would be like taking my first virgin. To hear her little gasp, to feel her life flowing into me. I'd take my time with this one. No wham bam you're dead now ma'am. No way. I'd make it slow, painful, and deliberate. I'd make stop when I felt she was passing out and I'd make her scream for me as I made a new place to feed from.// Spike's right hand quickly went down to his jeans, ripping the button fly open and releasing him from his tight prison. His cold hand enveloped him as a light sheen of sweat slicked him down, making friction not a problem. His hand expertly worked his body as his mind still played with the fantasy of feeding off of a scared Buffy. His mind wandering to a time when he could bite without fear, and feed to contentment every time, every night.
//Then I'd turn her. Oh yeah, I'd keep her around so I could play with her tight little body as often as I wanted. She'd be my toy. My childe. I'd slit my wrist and let her suck the blood from me. Her blood. My blood. Oh yeah.// Spike's hand quickened its pace until finally he could feel his seed leave him in one final tug, a groan following closely behind it as he completed what was real, and what was not, together.
Spike slowly moved away from the wall and tucked himself back into his clothes. He lit another cigarette and went to the stone slab that was his bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling.
He didn't even move when the door was kicked open. He knew who it was. His senses were so heightened now he could smell her coming towards the door before she even made a move to kick it.
"What, do you just lie around all day long, or what?"
Spike looked at her as she came closer to where he lay. It was so tempting to grab her. But he was good now. Wasn't allowed.
"Well, yeah, I'm a vampire. Not like I can go frolic in the park during the day." Spike rolled his eyes as he turned them back to the ceiling.
"Yeah, but to lay here and do nothing?" She seemed to be passing judgment on his pathetic life.
He sat up and let his legs dangle over the side of the slab and made eye contact with her.
"It's what I do in the middle of the day."
~The End