CHANGE OF SPACE
6
By Annie
Summary: Interlude: Spike reflects on the mess of his life. Rated: R Spoilers: General Season 5 Buffy Disclaimer: So not mine. Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
I had enough to deal with as it was, and when I felt the approach of the hairless whelp I had to double the amount of whiskey I was pouring into my glass of blood. Between this thing with the Slayer, my humiliating bruising at the hands of Glory and the totally frustrating loss of my 'bot, I wasn't in the mood for any Luthor nonsense. I figured I'd end up throwing him out, which I finally did the next morning, headache be damned. I hurt so much in other places it didn't much matter anyway.
When he came back in the morning, though, it was hard to resist his offer. First off, I started salivating at the sight and scent of him, instinctual memory trying to lengthen my all-but-obsolete fangs. He paused in the doorway a second, taking in my posh estate in the daylight, wearing a long-sleeved lavender T-shirt and soft black pants. He looked..good. Delicious, in fact. My cock was hard before it knew what hit it.
I was operating on the ragged edges of sanity anyway, and felt like his presence would be enough to push me right over one of those bloody edges soon. The thought of fresh blood, willingly offered, was almost too much to give up, but there were Buffy and Niblet to consider, and as I had gone this far, risked unlife and limb for them, it didn't seem like this would be the best time to abandon them. Perhaps, if I survived the Glory problem, but in the meantime, throwing him out and suffering the resultant headache would have to suffice.
The memory of that night washed over me quite often since I had returned to the Hellmouth; the taste and warmth of his rich blood, made even more incredible by the feel of his hand on my hard flesh. It made me angry, most times, to think about that part of it. Sometimes, though, at the very edges of sleeping and waking, the memory made my cock come to life, aching for the return of his hand and the feel of the hot blood in my mouth again. Especially the hot blood in my mouth part. Maybe I should go back to Smallville, if the world survived this latest Apocalypse, and I could be unchipped. Luthor was right about one thing; a year was nothing to me. Up until a mere few months ago, being chip-free had been my fondest wish. Now it seemed my priorities had rearranged themselves, whether I wanted them to or not.
There was a big showdown coming soon, and if I managed to walk away from it, I'd have to test the Summers' waters then, see if my selfless acts would have done anything to soften the Slayer's opinion of me even more.
Maybe I'd be heading East after all.
6
By Annie
Summary: Interlude: Spike reflects on the mess of his life. Rated: R Spoilers: General Season 5 Buffy Disclaimer: So not mine. Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
I had enough to deal with as it was, and when I felt the approach of the hairless whelp I had to double the amount of whiskey I was pouring into my glass of blood. Between this thing with the Slayer, my humiliating bruising at the hands of Glory and the totally frustrating loss of my 'bot, I wasn't in the mood for any Luthor nonsense. I figured I'd end up throwing him out, which I finally did the next morning, headache be damned. I hurt so much in other places it didn't much matter anyway.
When he came back in the morning, though, it was hard to resist his offer. First off, I started salivating at the sight and scent of him, instinctual memory trying to lengthen my all-but-obsolete fangs. He paused in the doorway a second, taking in my posh estate in the daylight, wearing a long-sleeved lavender T-shirt and soft black pants. He looked..good. Delicious, in fact. My cock was hard before it knew what hit it.
I was operating on the ragged edges of sanity anyway, and felt like his presence would be enough to push me right over one of those bloody edges soon. The thought of fresh blood, willingly offered, was almost too much to give up, but there were Buffy and Niblet to consider, and as I had gone this far, risked unlife and limb for them, it didn't seem like this would be the best time to abandon them. Perhaps, if I survived the Glory problem, but in the meantime, throwing him out and suffering the resultant headache would have to suffice.
The memory of that night washed over me quite often since I had returned to the Hellmouth; the taste and warmth of his rich blood, made even more incredible by the feel of his hand on my hard flesh. It made me angry, most times, to think about that part of it. Sometimes, though, at the very edges of sleeping and waking, the memory made my cock come to life, aching for the return of his hand and the feel of the hot blood in my mouth again. Especially the hot blood in my mouth part. Maybe I should go back to Smallville, if the world survived this latest Apocalypse, and I could be unchipped. Luthor was right about one thing; a year was nothing to me. Up until a mere few months ago, being chip-free had been my fondest wish. Now it seemed my priorities had rearranged themselves, whether I wanted them to or not.
There was a big showdown coming soon, and if I managed to walk away from it, I'd have to test the Summers' waters then, see if my selfless acts would have done anything to soften the Slayer's opinion of me even more.
Maybe I'd be heading East after all.
