CHANGE OF PACE
Part 2 First Impressions
Rated: R Summary: Spike has come to Kansas. Note; for the purposes of this AU story, Season 1 of Smallville is running at the same time as Season 5 of Buffy. I just moved them around a little. Disclaimer: Not mine, not a single one of them. ( Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
First Impressions
It was a really long, boring drive, and the only thing that bothered the hell out of me was that the Slayer would think I had left town because she had ordered it. Well, after I managed to get this chip out, I'd get right back to the bloody Hellmouth, and then I'd show her. Good and proper, I'd show her.
I spent the entire days-long drive trying to avoid State Police who might want to know why my car windows were blacked out, and the nights robbing places in sleepy towns, in an effort to amass enough cash to tempt Lex Luthor. I didn't think he would be really interested in cash, but if there was a chance that his wallet was being controlled by his loving father, then just maybe he would. The alternative; offer to turn him, so he could live his probably-fantastic life as a billionaire forever. If he allowed it, I could probably bite him, get a bit of the fresh stuff. Of course, I would have to be careful about that, skirt around the actual wording of the thing. I wouldn't want to be locked up in a LuthorCorp cell for scientific study. It might be even worse than the Initiative. I'd test the waters when I got there. No matter what, I couldn't go back to Sunnydale neutered. Not anymore.
I was driving through the middle of nowhere, gods-forsaken country devoid of anything but old farmhouses surrounded by fields of crops and livestock, when I finally saw the sign. Smallville. Nice enough as town signs go, I guess. I had to resist this sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to run the thing over and park the DeSoto on top of it, but common sense ruled. I didn't really want to announce my presence, now did I? I had to park deep into a treed area on a dirt road to wait for the sun to go down. I sucked down my last bag of blood out of the cooler in the back seat, and then headed to town.
It wasn't actually that different from Sunnydale, at that. High school, 'go, team, go' posters all over the place, business district closed except for a few bars and restaurants. People drove and walked slowly, mostly all of them giving me the once-over. I stuck out like a bleedin' sore thumb, here among the farmhands and such.
So, if I were a young male billionaire, stuck here in the back of beyond, where would I go at night? Being me, my first thought was of course alcohol and women. I hadn't seen any signs for women, so I hit up the bars. I knew what he looked like from television exposes and news reports. Certainly, there would be only one citizen in town that young who was bald.
I didn't want to ask for him straight out, so I cruised through about six bars, having a drink at each one, looking around. 'Just passing through,' I told the curious, even one time brushing off a woman who approached me, probably looking for free booze for the night. I had another, more important agenda, so I bought her a drink and took off.
No luck. I wandered the streets, deciding to get one of the locals at the next bar I hit liquored up enough to loosen his tongue. At least then I might be able to get an address, just take the bull by the horns (God, I was lapsing into farmboy talk) and go see the man.
It was the car that got my attention. I was heading down the street toward a neon beer sign, passing pick-ups and older model cars, when a silver Ferrari caught my attention. It had to be his, all flashy and extra expensive. Parked in front of a coffee shop?
I raised my scarred eyebrow a little and then just shrugged and sauntered idly in.
There were about fifteen customers in the place, most of them teens. It was nice, in a cutsey, low-brow ambient sort of way. Little lights around, nice little round tables, perfect for conversation. Also a counter at the far end of the establishment, with one or two mirrors behind it. I picked a seat near enough to one of the mirrors that I could scan most of the room sideways, but not directly in front of the reflective glass. Just in case anyone would happen to notice that my existence didn't extend to the looking glass.
A teenage girl with doe eyes and long straight brown hair all but bounced over to greet me.
"Hi," she gushed, all sweetness and light. "Welcome to the Talon! What can I get for you?"
God, I could practically smell the saccharine quality all around her. If I bit her I would probably go into a diabetic coma. I was starting to miss SunnyD.
"Bourbon?" I questioned hopefully.
Her smile got even bigger and sweeter, if that was possible. "Only coffee. Or a milkshake, if you'd like that better. Or a root beer float?"
I almost shuddered. "Coffee. Black and strong." I requested.
She was back with it almost immediately, setting it down carefully in front of me.
"New in town?" she chirped, holding out her hand in greeting. "I'm Lana Lang. I'm the manager here."
Another raised eyebrow. Very young to be a manager of anything, except maybe make-up and hair accessories.
"Just passing through," I intoned automatically. I felt compelled to reach out and shake her hand briefly. "This is your place?" I asked. "Very nice. You're doing a good job here." I took a sip of my coffee. Too strong.
She lowered her eyes demurely. "Actually, Lex owns the place with me, I just run it for him."
Ah, that explains the car out front. He must be there, keeping an eye on his investment. I needed to get rid of the little girl now.
"Have you got a newspaper? I haven't seen one today."
"Sure," she replied, reaching below the counter and handing me the daily edition of the Smallville rag. "I'll come back in a while to see if you need a refill. Enjoy your stay here."
Not bloody likely.
I scanned the room behind me in the mirror, under pretense of reading the newspaper. Some of the patrons had left while I was talking with the sugary Ms. Lang, and so Lex Luthor wasn't too hard to spot. He was sitting at a table behind me to my right, with two other people. One was a girl, another teen, with short blonde hair, looking about as bouncy as they come. The other person was a boy, also a teenager, but he looked like he was built a lot better than any other teen boys I had ever seen. I guess if you looked in the dictionary under 'big, strapping farmboy' you'd find a picture of him. I could see him and the girl in profile only, but I could see Lex Luthor's face, and I watched him.
He was wearing a very expensive-looking purple shirt and some black dress pants. He had long legs stretched out under the table, languidly crossed at the ankles. His hands rested lightly on the table around his cup. He seemed very laid back, obviously with friends. He was too much at ease to be having any kind of business discussion. He had coffee or something, the other two had what looked like ice cream floats, or something else disgustingly sweet.
Luthor was speaking with both of his companions, but mostly his attention was on the boy. I took another sip of coffee, trying to act naturally, and turned the page of the newspaper.
At my second study of the table behind me, I noticed that he was sitting closer to Farmboy than to Blondie. So, she wasn't his girlfriend then, although, even without knowing specific Kansas laws, I figured he was too old for her. So, three friends, then. Probably Farmboy and Blondie were the couple.
The blonde suddenly got up and left, waving bye to Lana behind the counter, with a cheery, 'see you tomorrow.' Farmboy didn't go with her, but now he turned to look at Lana behind the counter and I got a good look at his face. Too pretty. Billion-watt smile.
And now I had my third raised eyebrow for the night. While Farmboy was looking at the manager, Lex Luthor was looking at the Farmboy. Intensely.
Now, I know I can't feed as a vampire anymore, with this bloody chip, but it hasn't dulled any of my other vampirically enhanced senses, and let me tell you, there were waves of tension coming off that table. I could feel them all the way over at the counter. It could have been some kind of anger tension between them, or some jealousy because Lana Lang had favored Farmboy with a huge smile when he looked in her direction. That wasn't it. I could feel what it was, plain as the horn on a Thrombelus demon's face.
Lex Luthor wanted to fuck that kid.
Part 2 First Impressions
Rated: R Summary: Spike has come to Kansas. Note; for the purposes of this AU story, Season 1 of Smallville is running at the same time as Season 5 of Buffy. I just moved them around a little. Disclaimer: Not mine, not a single one of them. ( Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
First Impressions
It was a really long, boring drive, and the only thing that bothered the hell out of me was that the Slayer would think I had left town because she had ordered it. Well, after I managed to get this chip out, I'd get right back to the bloody Hellmouth, and then I'd show her. Good and proper, I'd show her.
I spent the entire days-long drive trying to avoid State Police who might want to know why my car windows were blacked out, and the nights robbing places in sleepy towns, in an effort to amass enough cash to tempt Lex Luthor. I didn't think he would be really interested in cash, but if there was a chance that his wallet was being controlled by his loving father, then just maybe he would. The alternative; offer to turn him, so he could live his probably-fantastic life as a billionaire forever. If he allowed it, I could probably bite him, get a bit of the fresh stuff. Of course, I would have to be careful about that, skirt around the actual wording of the thing. I wouldn't want to be locked up in a LuthorCorp cell for scientific study. It might be even worse than the Initiative. I'd test the waters when I got there. No matter what, I couldn't go back to Sunnydale neutered. Not anymore.
I was driving through the middle of nowhere, gods-forsaken country devoid of anything but old farmhouses surrounded by fields of crops and livestock, when I finally saw the sign. Smallville. Nice enough as town signs go, I guess. I had to resist this sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to run the thing over and park the DeSoto on top of it, but common sense ruled. I didn't really want to announce my presence, now did I? I had to park deep into a treed area on a dirt road to wait for the sun to go down. I sucked down my last bag of blood out of the cooler in the back seat, and then headed to town.
It wasn't actually that different from Sunnydale, at that. High school, 'go, team, go' posters all over the place, business district closed except for a few bars and restaurants. People drove and walked slowly, mostly all of them giving me the once-over. I stuck out like a bleedin' sore thumb, here among the farmhands and such.
So, if I were a young male billionaire, stuck here in the back of beyond, where would I go at night? Being me, my first thought was of course alcohol and women. I hadn't seen any signs for women, so I hit up the bars. I knew what he looked like from television exposes and news reports. Certainly, there would be only one citizen in town that young who was bald.
I didn't want to ask for him straight out, so I cruised through about six bars, having a drink at each one, looking around. 'Just passing through,' I told the curious, even one time brushing off a woman who approached me, probably looking for free booze for the night. I had another, more important agenda, so I bought her a drink and took off.
No luck. I wandered the streets, deciding to get one of the locals at the next bar I hit liquored up enough to loosen his tongue. At least then I might be able to get an address, just take the bull by the horns (God, I was lapsing into farmboy talk) and go see the man.
It was the car that got my attention. I was heading down the street toward a neon beer sign, passing pick-ups and older model cars, when a silver Ferrari caught my attention. It had to be his, all flashy and extra expensive. Parked in front of a coffee shop?
I raised my scarred eyebrow a little and then just shrugged and sauntered idly in.
There were about fifteen customers in the place, most of them teens. It was nice, in a cutsey, low-brow ambient sort of way. Little lights around, nice little round tables, perfect for conversation. Also a counter at the far end of the establishment, with one or two mirrors behind it. I picked a seat near enough to one of the mirrors that I could scan most of the room sideways, but not directly in front of the reflective glass. Just in case anyone would happen to notice that my existence didn't extend to the looking glass.
A teenage girl with doe eyes and long straight brown hair all but bounced over to greet me.
"Hi," she gushed, all sweetness and light. "Welcome to the Talon! What can I get for you?"
God, I could practically smell the saccharine quality all around her. If I bit her I would probably go into a diabetic coma. I was starting to miss SunnyD.
"Bourbon?" I questioned hopefully.
Her smile got even bigger and sweeter, if that was possible. "Only coffee. Or a milkshake, if you'd like that better. Or a root beer float?"
I almost shuddered. "Coffee. Black and strong." I requested.
She was back with it almost immediately, setting it down carefully in front of me.
"New in town?" she chirped, holding out her hand in greeting. "I'm Lana Lang. I'm the manager here."
Another raised eyebrow. Very young to be a manager of anything, except maybe make-up and hair accessories.
"Just passing through," I intoned automatically. I felt compelled to reach out and shake her hand briefly. "This is your place?" I asked. "Very nice. You're doing a good job here." I took a sip of my coffee. Too strong.
She lowered her eyes demurely. "Actually, Lex owns the place with me, I just run it for him."
Ah, that explains the car out front. He must be there, keeping an eye on his investment. I needed to get rid of the little girl now.
"Have you got a newspaper? I haven't seen one today."
"Sure," she replied, reaching below the counter and handing me the daily edition of the Smallville rag. "I'll come back in a while to see if you need a refill. Enjoy your stay here."
Not bloody likely.
I scanned the room behind me in the mirror, under pretense of reading the newspaper. Some of the patrons had left while I was talking with the sugary Ms. Lang, and so Lex Luthor wasn't too hard to spot. He was sitting at a table behind me to my right, with two other people. One was a girl, another teen, with short blonde hair, looking about as bouncy as they come. The other person was a boy, also a teenager, but he looked like he was built a lot better than any other teen boys I had ever seen. I guess if you looked in the dictionary under 'big, strapping farmboy' you'd find a picture of him. I could see him and the girl in profile only, but I could see Lex Luthor's face, and I watched him.
He was wearing a very expensive-looking purple shirt and some black dress pants. He had long legs stretched out under the table, languidly crossed at the ankles. His hands rested lightly on the table around his cup. He seemed very laid back, obviously with friends. He was too much at ease to be having any kind of business discussion. He had coffee or something, the other two had what looked like ice cream floats, or something else disgustingly sweet.
Luthor was speaking with both of his companions, but mostly his attention was on the boy. I took another sip of coffee, trying to act naturally, and turned the page of the newspaper.
At my second study of the table behind me, I noticed that he was sitting closer to Farmboy than to Blondie. So, she wasn't his girlfriend then, although, even without knowing specific Kansas laws, I figured he was too old for her. So, three friends, then. Probably Farmboy and Blondie were the couple.
The blonde suddenly got up and left, waving bye to Lana behind the counter, with a cheery, 'see you tomorrow.' Farmboy didn't go with her, but now he turned to look at Lana behind the counter and I got a good look at his face. Too pretty. Billion-watt smile.
And now I had my third raised eyebrow for the night. While Farmboy was looking at the manager, Lex Luthor was looking at the Farmboy. Intensely.
Now, I know I can't feed as a vampire anymore, with this bloody chip, but it hasn't dulled any of my other vampirically enhanced senses, and let me tell you, there were waves of tension coming off that table. I could feel them all the way over at the counter. It could have been some kind of anger tension between them, or some jealousy because Lana Lang had favored Farmboy with a huge smile when he looked in her direction. That wasn't it. I could feel what it was, plain as the horn on a Thrombelus demon's face.
Lex Luthor wanted to fuck that kid.