Always On My Mind by spike_spetslayer

Chapter #1 - 1

Always On My Mind Driving. Driving. God, the miles just go on and on, no radio station in listening distance that isn’t playing some foreign language crap. Tape deck’s broke, ate my fave Buzzcocks tape before it died in a puff of smoke and sizzle of its electric soul outside Guadalajara, and now I’m bored. So I’m drinking some of the best tequila ever home-brewed, and thinking about that blond bint back in Sunnydale that’s beggin’ me to just drink her dry. Never in my unlife did I ever think she’d shag me. Hell, she’s the Slayer, bane of the undead and demon world, and here I am, a bleeding vampire, the Slayer of Slayers at that! Slayer and vampire don’t mix, although I did hear of a pair mating back about, oh, thirty years ago. Didn’t hear much about them after the Council of Wankers got ahold of ‘em. Guess they dusted the vamp and killed their Slayer. Wonder if she knows that’s what they do to bad little girls who disobey their watcher? Oh, well, that’s a moot point soon, as soon as I can sink my fangs in her neck. Have to shift in the seat to rearrange my danglies. My cock got rock-hard the minute I thought of biting her, and damned if it wasn’t because I fantasized about fucking her while I did it. She was a tasty piece, if I do say so, and wouldn’t mind a second go at that tight, wet hole. Other holes too, if you catch my meaning. Best not think like that. We don’t play with our food, William. Why can’t I think of her as food, then? Why do I start salivating at the thought of her naked? Bloody hell, she’s the Slayer, not your fucking mate. She wants to dust you, not shag you senseless. And Dru…Dru wouldn’t even let you touch her. Kept blathering on and on about how you stank of her, how she hovered around you, laughing. What a load of shite that was. I showered as soon as I got out of Sunnydale, and nearly every town in between, trying to keep Dru from sniffing her out. Still, Dru always did have the sight. Maybe she knows something. She always said she would lose me to the sunshine. I just thought she meant I would burn in the sun, not…. No, that can’t be right. Dru’s a sack of hammers anyway, crazy and daft as they come. She doesn’t know anything about me anymore. She’s too deep in her own world. With the damn pixies and Miss Edith. She never paid enough attention to know me. Mum always did tell me that I yearned for things above our station in life. Guess she was right. Cecily, Drusilla, now Buffy. I mean, the Slayer. God damn it all, anyway. Why can’t I just think of her as the Slayer anymore? Why does that bloody silly name stick in my head? Everywhere I go, I hear it echoing—Buf-fy, Buf-fy, Buf-fy, over and over, until I want to stick metal prongs into my ears to make it stop. I hear it in the slap of the wipers during the brief shower in the middle of the Mexican idea of spring when the desert blooms for three days and the sun hides for a moment behind cottonball clouds that fill the sky with thunderous rumblings. I hear it as my feet beat a well-trod path down empty streets in the middle of the night as I look for a meal with a spicy overtone in a slight female container with pert breasts, sloe eyes, and dark, wavy hair. I hear it in the heartbeats of my chosen one as I drink my fill, the thudding in her chest slowing as it whispers her name to me until it stops mid-syllable. I look down at the face of the unfortunate girl lying unmoving in my arms, and see her instead. Golden hair, hazel eyes, full lips mocking me with their color of blood and peaches. Disgusted, I toss my happy meal to the ground and step over her to hurry back to the DeSoto. Over the border and up the coast, and I’ll be home free. Back in that sodding hellhole where it all went wrong, and I’ll be able to silence that bint’s bleeding siren song. I sit behind the wheel, paralyzed with sensory memory. Her blood on my tongue. Her flavor in my nose. Shifting in the seat, I realize my cock’s harder than steel and pressing against my jeans in an uncomfortable way. Again. As always, I take the matter into my own hands. Rip the fly open, take it firmly in my grasp, and pull and tug while I watch blond hair whipping around in my mind’s eye. When I come, I shout her name, and it disgusts me, but it strangely feels right. I clean myself off with an old rag, and toss it out the window. Lighting a cigarette, drawing in the smoke, I feel somehow like this is my destiny. Chasing a dream across country, over hill and dale and borders, up the coast and to the mouth of hell itself. And in the whisper of the tires on the blacktop, I hear her name again. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I timed it to arrive right as I figured she’d be patrolling, and ran over the sign on my way into town, just so they’d know I was back. Tradition and all, you know? A little drunk and a whole lotta brassed, I was, I’ll tell ya. Planning on offing the bint as soon as I could sniff her out. Smelled her right off. She was patrolling, I thought as much. Dust drifted by me, light on the wind, and I knew she was close. Ducking behind a tree, I watch her dance with three fledges. All guts and grace, she is, twirling and snarking as she punched and jabbed. Not a one got even a kick in on my girl—she was poetry in motion. When the fledges were drifting on the wind beside me, she turns to look in my direction. Her arms are folded up over her pert little tits, and she’s tapping out a heartbeat with her toe. “Spike, come out. I know you’re there, I can feel you.” I burned a fag before I stepped out, blowing out smoke to hide the surprise and passion I felt on my face. When my mask is set, I let her see me fully, and something flared in her look, I swear. “Awright, Slayer. You caught me.” “Sneaking back into town? Thought you said you were never coming back. Promised, didn’t you?” Drag, blow. “From the sound of your voice, Slayer, I think you missed me.” She looked down to hide tears I already sniffed out. “Go away, Spike. Nothing good can come of this.” Huh? What is the bint talking about? Is she off her rocker? “Why not, Slayer? Innit what we’re s’posed to do? Dance?” She looked up, forgetting she was crying by the looks of it. “Is that what you want then? To kill me? Go ahead.” She dropped her stake on the ground, and even though I knew that she had to have more on her, it scared me for some reason. I took a step, and she laughed in my face. It sounded old and bitter. “Just like the rest, aren’t you, Spike? Find them, fuck them, forget them. Even undead, you’re the typical male. Only you like to add a few. Fight them. Fang them. Fracture them. Then forget them, knowing they’ll never forget you.” Now I have to stop and stare. “What are you talking about, Slayer?” Even with my good hearing I have to strain to hear her reply. “Nothing, Spike. Just do whatever you came to do.” I stepped toward her, and grabbed her, burying my nose in her hair. Her body goes stiff in my arms, then relaxes, and her tears are dripping down her cheeks onto me. Her arms come round me, and I can feel her lips pressing into my chest, even through our clothes. All thoughts of killing flew straight out of my head when all the blood ran into my cock and I knew I was forever lost. She felt me growing against her leg, and I backed up to look into her eyes. Her eyes always did hold her heart. You could look in them and see clear down, deep into places she’d rather were hidden away. Bloody wonder nobody else ever noticed, not like they ever looked for anything inside her. She was looking at me like I was the bleeding messiah, and I knew that I wasn’t the only lost one in this cemetery tonight. “Slayer. This is wrong.” If I thought that being blunt would change things, I was wrong. “Don’t you think I know that? It’s a millions kinds of wrong. But I can’t stop thinking about you and what we did and everything.” Didn’t need an explanation for the everything. It was rubbing against my leg, driving me to distraction with her heat. I tried again, swear I did. “Buffy, this is wrong.” Pushed her off my leg, and held her at arms length. “This is wrong. You’re the Slayer. I’m a vampire. Got no soul. You don’t want this.” “Yes, I do.” God help me, the lip came out, and she pouted so pretty like I could hardly bear it. I wanted to suck on that lip like a cherry, chew it like a penny candy and draw it deep in my mouth. Saliva pooled, and I swallowed hard, and she noticed. “You want it too, Spike. Admit it.” She poked me in the chest, and I staggered back, dropping my hold on her. Forgive me, I did want it. I wanted her and whatever it took to be with her, and she saw it all over me. Had me by the short hairs now. No! Irritating, annoying, blathering, sexy little bint. Beautiful bird. I fought my inner battles right there in front of her, and she watched me, fascinated by the sight, it seemed. She seemed to make a decision then, because she stepped up to me, nose to nose, and said calmly, “Either kill me or fuck me, because this dancing shit is getting really old, really fast.” I was frozen, shocked by her language and suggestions. Victorian ponce always pokes his head up at the wrong moment, because next thing I know she’s kissing me like she’s drowning and I’m the bloody lifeguard. Even worse, I’m kissing her back like I want to swallow her from the outside in, and it’s everything I can do to stop myself from taking her right there. I dragged her over to the edge of the boneyard, away from the dust whipping in the wind and the smell of moldy roses and pushed her back against a tree. I can smell her, like the wind off the ocean, salty fresh and promising, and I’m salivating like a dog promised a bone. Even as my cock slips inside her tight wet hole, even while my ballsack slaps her ass as I drive deep inside her over and over, my mind keeps telling me that I’m not here for this. I’m not here to shag her until she screams my name; I’m here to end this once and for all. I can hear Dru’s laughing, keening voice inside my head, blathering about sunshine and pixies and Angel’s voice telling me that you have to love this girl to kill her, and I understand them both now. I’m deep inside her, loving her and killing her with that love, and I understand what they both were trying to tell me. I’m trapped. While her mouth devours mine and her nails sink into my cold flesh, while we’re driving each other higher and higher and closer to that flashpoint of passion, while I’m drowning in her heartbeat as it pulses everywhere around me, she’s trapping me in her web of humanity. She is so alive she makes me wish for my heart to beat again, so hot she makes me crave warmth. Suddenly I’m pissed off, and I pull out and flip her over onto a tombstone next to the tree that’s broken and forgotten. I’ve had enough of gentle, now I need to be rough on her and make her realize that she doesn’t need a vampire, she needs a man. I rake my nails over the cheeks of her ass and spread her wide, then drive my cock into the tight little pucker of her asshole and listen to her gasping scream. I pull out partway, and don’t even let her get used to the invasion before I’m driving into her again and again. She grunts with every thrust, then her grunting becomes moaning and I feel her clench around me. I reach around her and down, my fingers finding the sweet little nubbin of flesh buried in her nethers, and touch it roughly. She’s not begging me to stop, she’s begging me not to, and something melts inside me that I thought I’d put away, so I start to talk to her instead. “Like this, huh? Buggered by the Big Bad in the boneyard. Didn’t know that you had such wild kinks, Slayer. Thought that you were all goodness and light, not a wild woman.” Her voice is breathy as it drifts back to me. “Not…wild…. Never…had…anyone…do…it…there….” “And you like it? Shocking. What would your Watcher say?” I feel her tense, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder. “He’ll never know. You’ll be dust before he ever finds out.” I grab her throat with my hand and bow her back until the only thing touching the headstone is her hips. “Sing me another one, Slayer. That song is pretty outdated at this stage, don’tcha think?” Her face turns red while I choke her with one hand and diddle her clit with the other and my hips never stop moving. Her hands scrabble for purchase on my fingers and never quite make it as I turn her head to the side and sink my fangs into her neck. Her orgasm hits her like a freight train rollicking down the track at breakneck speed, and just as she thinks she’s a goner I let her neck go, and she screams with her release. Her blood is so sweet as it pumps into my mouth, with a high note of fear and the aftertaste of lust and just the right amount of magic mingled in. It’s almost enough to make me high and gives me the boost I need to come as my hips jerk against her and my cock spews release into the depths of her bowels. I drink until I feel her come again around my spent cock, then I let her go, and her body falls over the tombstone, weak and weary. I walk around to stand in front of her and clean the blood from her ass off my cock and lick it up. It’s as sweet as the blood from her throat, and I get half-hard again from the taste of her. “Evil vampire, pet. Don’t underestimate me or you’ll regret it.” Understanding dawns in her eyes and I can tell that the pass I thought I had tonight was gone. “Get out of my sight, Spike, before I find the strength to get up and stake your sorry ass.” I’m laughing as I walk away and I can feel her eyes follow me. “You don’t stake a vampire’s ass to kill him, Slayer. Maybe that’s what you’re doing wrong. Staking the wrong place.” I go off to find me a hidey-hole to lay up in until the next time I see her. I know that I will. I’ll kill her after I play with her a bit. It’s only a matter of time.