Loose Ends
Chapter 5 of several
by Lynne C.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: It's all Joss' - I worship at the altar of his genius, and acknowledge that he owns all these folks and everything that they do and say.
Setting/Spoilers: AtS Season 5, generally - and, Spike's "semi-canon" past (London, mid-1970s)
Summary: An unexpected epilogue to an incident in Spike's past, inspired by a throwaway line from Buffy 7.8
Misc: You can look in my ff.net profile for my website, and check there for updates to this story, or to read this part with its proper formatting (italics and such).
Loose Ends
The chief object of Spike's desire had always been, and, he expected, would always be, his Dark Princess. She had introduced him to sexual pleasure, after all, and between his gratitude at the thoroughness of her schooling, and his intense love for her, he could not imagine wanting anyone with the all-consuming passion that she elicited.
And yet, there were times when he craved the physical heat of an encounter with a live girl. Dru had taught him this as well, so that neither of them looked at sex with a victim as an infidelity -- as long as it was in the context of the kill. Nevertheless, Spike tended not to indulge himself this way very frequently, thinking it was all the better for the anticipation.
And anticipate he did. As he drew the girl deep into the alley behind the club, he was already uncomfortably hard, his sexual and predatory hungers warring for primacy. They had still not exchanged a word, as he pushed her roughly against the brick wall, her hands taking her weight as he positioned himself behind her.
Her heartbeat was a triphammer, and her breath was short, speaking to him of her own anticipation, though the earthy scent of her arousal had already done as much. He could almost recall the feeling of his own heart banging against his ribs, though never under such circumstances as these.
Bloody wanker! William'd 'ave passed out by now. Couldna 'ave imagined what he was missin'.
[Naughty bits have been deleted here, so as not to violate the guidelines of this posting board. To] [read the un-Bowlderized version, go to my author profile and link to my website. Sorry for the ] [inconvenience! ]
In little more than a moment, she cooled in his arms, slumped back against him, and her heart failed.
He had stopped drinking, but held her for a moment yet, his muscles not yet capable of relaxing. Slowly, he released her, and her body slid down his, into a crumpled heap at his feet.
Spike stared at her, staring sightlessly up at him, as he tucked himself back inside his jeans, and zipped them up.
"Mighty good fuck, pet..." The sound of his own voice startled him, sounding much too loud in the stillness that had filled the alley after the echoes of their copulation had faded away.
He turned, drawing his forearm across his mouth, the better to lick up the last traces of her blood. He froze, however, when he saw a figure silhouetted at the end of the alley, some 50 or more yards away, seemingly rooted to the spot.
"Fuck!" Perfectly good shag-'n'-shant buzz gonna go ta waste...Bloody witness!
Spike advanced slowly, and the young man began to back away, scrambling towards the brick wall on the far side of the alley. He paused by the wall, his shoulders shaking, evidently relieving himself of his dinner. Spike smirked, still stalking him coolly and unhurriedly. This would just take a minute, and then he could get back to savoring the evening's recreation. But the kid recovered himself, and lit out running, taking Spike by surprise.
He set off in pursuit, rounding the corner out of the alley, in time to see the kid swing into the driver's seat of a Ford transit van parked nearby. Bloody, soddin' hell... In a flash, Spike was alongside the van, which was just beginning to pull away from the curb. His arm shot through the driver's side window, causing the kid to pull the wheel sharply away and to the right. The back end of the van slid sideways, the impetus knocking Spike off his feet.
He slid a short distance on the pavement, the asphalt enhancing the distressed condition of Spike's jeans. The gears of the van were grinding frantically as he pulled himself to his feet and threw himself back in the direction of the van. Reaching it, he paused, his hands planted on the hood, and they regarded each other in the glow of the streetlamp. Spike grinned, his yellow eyes glittering. He recognized the boy in the leather jacket he'd seen inside the club earlier and could see individual drops of sweat standing out on his terrified face. Spike threw back his head and howled, kicking a hole into the grillework of the van, and bracing a boot in it for a frontal assault through the windshield, at just about the same time as the kid found reverse. The van shot out from under Spike, backing all the way to the intersection, where he changed direction again and merged into the traffic on the main road.
Spike watched from his hands and knees, not even bothering to take the chase up again. He knew there was no point. Besides, he was feeling a bit sluggish. So, the kid would have an interesting story to tell his mates, who would proceed to disbelieve and mock him, and hold him up as an extraordinary pratt.
So, he'd returned to the lair, to curl up around Drusilla, where they'd whispered their night's adventures to each other.
To be continued….
Chapter 5 of several
by Lynne C.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: It's all Joss' - I worship at the altar of his genius, and acknowledge that he owns all these folks and everything that they do and say.
Setting/Spoilers: AtS Season 5, generally - and, Spike's "semi-canon" past (London, mid-1970s)
Summary: An unexpected epilogue to an incident in Spike's past, inspired by a throwaway line from Buffy 7.8
Misc: You can look in my ff.net profile for my website, and check there for updates to this story, or to read this part with its proper formatting (italics and such).
Loose Ends
The chief object of Spike's desire had always been, and, he expected, would always be, his Dark Princess. She had introduced him to sexual pleasure, after all, and between his gratitude at the thoroughness of her schooling, and his intense love for her, he could not imagine wanting anyone with the all-consuming passion that she elicited.
And yet, there were times when he craved the physical heat of an encounter with a live girl. Dru had taught him this as well, so that neither of them looked at sex with a victim as an infidelity -- as long as it was in the context of the kill. Nevertheless, Spike tended not to indulge himself this way very frequently, thinking it was all the better for the anticipation.
And anticipate he did. As he drew the girl deep into the alley behind the club, he was already uncomfortably hard, his sexual and predatory hungers warring for primacy. They had still not exchanged a word, as he pushed her roughly against the brick wall, her hands taking her weight as he positioned himself behind her.
Her heartbeat was a triphammer, and her breath was short, speaking to him of her own anticipation, though the earthy scent of her arousal had already done as much. He could almost recall the feeling of his own heart banging against his ribs, though never under such circumstances as these.
Bloody wanker! William'd 'ave passed out by now. Couldna 'ave imagined what he was missin'.
[Naughty bits have been deleted here, so as not to violate the guidelines of this posting board. To] [read the un-Bowlderized version, go to my author profile and link to my website. Sorry for the ] [inconvenience! ]
In little more than a moment, she cooled in his arms, slumped back against him, and her heart failed.
He had stopped drinking, but held her for a moment yet, his muscles not yet capable of relaxing. Slowly, he released her, and her body slid down his, into a crumpled heap at his feet.
Spike stared at her, staring sightlessly up at him, as he tucked himself back inside his jeans, and zipped them up.
"Mighty good fuck, pet..." The sound of his own voice startled him, sounding much too loud in the stillness that had filled the alley after the echoes of their copulation had faded away.
He turned, drawing his forearm across his mouth, the better to lick up the last traces of her blood. He froze, however, when he saw a figure silhouetted at the end of the alley, some 50 or more yards away, seemingly rooted to the spot.
"Fuck!" Perfectly good shag-'n'-shant buzz gonna go ta waste...Bloody witness!
Spike advanced slowly, and the young man began to back away, scrambling towards the brick wall on the far side of the alley. He paused by the wall, his shoulders shaking, evidently relieving himself of his dinner. Spike smirked, still stalking him coolly and unhurriedly. This would just take a minute, and then he could get back to savoring the evening's recreation. But the kid recovered himself, and lit out running, taking Spike by surprise.
He set off in pursuit, rounding the corner out of the alley, in time to see the kid swing into the driver's seat of a Ford transit van parked nearby. Bloody, soddin' hell... In a flash, Spike was alongside the van, which was just beginning to pull away from the curb. His arm shot through the driver's side window, causing the kid to pull the wheel sharply away and to the right. The back end of the van slid sideways, the impetus knocking Spike off his feet.
He slid a short distance on the pavement, the asphalt enhancing the distressed condition of Spike's jeans. The gears of the van were grinding frantically as he pulled himself to his feet and threw himself back in the direction of the van. Reaching it, he paused, his hands planted on the hood, and they regarded each other in the glow of the streetlamp. Spike grinned, his yellow eyes glittering. He recognized the boy in the leather jacket he'd seen inside the club earlier and could see individual drops of sweat standing out on his terrified face. Spike threw back his head and howled, kicking a hole into the grillework of the van, and bracing a boot in it for a frontal assault through the windshield, at just about the same time as the kid found reverse. The van shot out from under Spike, backing all the way to the intersection, where he changed direction again and merged into the traffic on the main road.
Spike watched from his hands and knees, not even bothering to take the chase up again. He knew there was no point. Besides, he was feeling a bit sluggish. So, the kid would have an interesting story to tell his mates, who would proceed to disbelieve and mock him, and hold him up as an extraordinary pratt.
So, he'd returned to the lair, to curl up around Drusilla, where they'd whispered their night's adventures to each other.
To be continued….