![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
For a fellow teacher
Nov. 11th, 2003 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essene_backupBecause I know exactly what it feels like to snap in the middle of the workday surrounded by those you are supposed to be the model of behaviour and other good stuff for. Because I sooo get the underappreciated and sideswipe compliment thing, I did a bit of something that's been nagging at me for awhile.
For you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wisteria_, oh goddess of screencaps, superb fic and great icons I give you
“Here vampy, vampy, vampy.” Buffy was sure she looked utterly ridiculous, but she was utterly bored and didn’t care. She had to stay busy and sane and fulfilling those needs currently meant staying as far away from Revello drive as possible. The little slayerettes were beginning to drive her crazy. If she didn’t find other ways to occupy herself that didn’t involve talking to them or training with them, she imagined that one day they’d find her hopping around ala pogo-stick Daffy duck, making those nutty hooting sounds.
She’d come to the cemetery hoping for a distraction. A demon. A fledgling. A scary sound. Anything. And what had all her hard searchiness been rewarded with? Nothing. It was ridiculous, you’d think that with something like this First Evil thing about there’d be block parties of demons and ghouls to have a rumble with.
Sighing, she shrugged and started for home, dreading walking in that door… and then she was grasped from behind and something cloying was pressed to her nose and then there was….nothing.
**************
She awakened slowly to a monotonous humming and a smooth, rolling feeling. Mmm…car ride. She slid back down for a few seconds, enjoying the cradled sensation until the actual thought registered. Car ride! Sitting up suddenly she was rewarded with a muzzy sensation and a sharp digging pain in her temple.
“Ow!” She tried to focus as she heard chuckling.
Sensations began to register. Alcohol. Spice. Smoke. Musk. “Spike!”
“Hey! Keep it down Slayer! ‘s not like I’m on the other side of the world.”
She turned her aching head and focused on him. One hand on the wheel, the other being pulled in from the window to raise a cigarette to his lips.
“What are you doing Spike?” She ground out with as much menace as she could muster. Unfortunately it came out less menacey and more whiney.
“Roadtrip.”
She shook her head, “I’m sorry, what?” He couldn’t have just said…
“Roadtrip. Me, you, car, driving.” He flashed her a cocky grin, as if he’d hit upon the most brilliant thing in the world.
“Stop the car Spike. Stop right now.”
“Or what? You’ll use your giant fuzzy head to bob me to death?”
Damn him. How dare he know that her head felt just like one of those startlingly over-balanced bobble-head thingies. She propped her arm on the door and leaned her giant head over to it for balance.
“Where are you taking me?” She was going to try reason now that violence was definitely out of the question.
“Surprise, pet.” Another drag, another cocky grin. Did he have to look so good while he was being so evil?
“Just close your eyes and go back to sleep for a bit. Be there before you know it.”
Actually that sounded reasonable. Her eyelids were preposterously heavy anyway, and that lovely drone of the car running throughout her body. She drifted off.
*************
“Wake up, pet.” He was nudging her thigh. Stretching and giving a jaw-cracking yawn she focused on him again.
He was grinning like an idiot. Total, unabashed joy. She crinkled her brows a bit and then smiled in spite of herself. “What?”
“We’re here.”
Her window was rolled up and since most of the windshield and all the passenger windows were smudged with black stuff she rolled it down and sucked in her breath when she saw…
Lights, everywhere, twinkly, sparkly, moving lights. Thousands of them, millions of them. “Woah.”
And then she hit him. “Vegas? You brought me to Las Vegas?”
He shied away from her, “Yeah, figured you hadn’t been here before, thought you ought to see it.”
She just stared at him. “You brought me to Las Vegas.”
She looked out the window again. It was kind of pretty in a strangely garish way. Buildings mimicking pyramids and the Eiffel Tower, a glittery plastic hot air balloon, a giant sandcastle, shining mirrored casinos everywhere. And the air was so warm, and the streets were filled with such life: economy cars and luxury cars, limos and taxis, and pedestrians everywhere.
At a lengthy light she asked, “Why?”
“Told you pet. Thought you ought to see it.” He studied her as he flicked the stub of his cigarette out the window.
“Why now?”
“Seemed right.”
Shaking her head she went back to her observation of her surroundings.
After a few passes up and down the strip of beguiling gaudiness, Spike pulled into a parking garage, and they twisted their way up. He finally pulled into an empty spot, shut off the car, opened the door and got out, calling, “Coming, pet?”
Buffy rolled through every carefully catalogued curse she’d ever picked up from every demon language she’d heard, not a few of which had come from Anya or…Spike. Sighing, she opened up the door and got out.
“What choice do I have?”
He curved his lip and lifted a brow, “None, really.” He held a hand out to her.
Resolved to her situation, Buffy placed her hand in his.
**********
They had stood in line for an hour. And she found it shockingly easy. They talked. About…stuff. Willow and her new girlfriend, Dawn’s progress in school, Anya and Xander, how her job was going, why he didn’t paint his nails anymore, why she gave up skirts, how there were no good cartoons anymore and the merits of Christina Aguleria vs. Britney Spears.
And now she was devouring what was possibly the best if not the biggest meal of her life. She’d started with a tossed-to-order Caesar salad, then moved onto the peeled shrimp and crab legs, followed by portions of prime rib, clam chowder, chicken piccatta, mashed potatoes, pasta salad, fried shrimp, fried scallops, Korean ribs, dilled potatoes, Mandarin grill, calamari, fried rice, more crab legs and finally 3 plates filled with assorted desserts.
Spike had sat back and watched her eat with an amused eye. And later an astonished one. He’d always suspected that the Slayer could pack it away, but this was unlike anything he’d ever imagined. The server must have taken away at least 6 plates, each of them nearly scraped clean. She moaned delightedly over the crab and he could feel her pulse race when she bit into the ribs, her eyes had turned to him with something akin to lust when she’d put the spoonful of chocolate mousse in her mouth. Needless to say, he was pleased with her reactions.
And then her tiny foot had wormed its way into his crotch, rubbing over him with the same movements she was using on the scoop of pistachio ice-cream she’d raced back to the dessert bar for. Her eyes never left his as she licked and rubbed. She knew precisely what she was doing to him and he’d never been gladder of a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Then her hand was on his and she was dragging him out of the booth. He dumped a fistful of crumpled money on the table as she pulled him out of the buffet. She wound her way through the crowds and the maze of slot machines as if she’d been in and out of casinos all her life. Down a short flight of stairs and then a quiet escalator. Back into a secluded bathroom where she finally turned and threw herself on him at a bench of sinks, capturing his mouth with a fervor he hadn’t experienced in far too long.
Moaning he clutched the back of her head, winding her soft hair around his fist, latching him to her. Her mouth was wet and silken, a mass of flavors and hot breath. She sucked his tongue into his mouth even as her hand stole down to stroke him through his jeans. She moved her hips away from his long enough to undo his fly and sneak in to grasp him in her tiny, strong hand.
“God, Buffy.”
“Shhhhhh.”
He let his hands wander down to her breasts, small and full, the nipples jutting through the thin fabric of her blouse, his lips soon followed leaving wet patches where he suckled and mouthed her.
She let go of his shaft suddenly and with a quick wriggle was out of her own pants. Grabbing him by the shirt she hopped up onto the bank of sinks and spread her thighs. He moved between them, and finding her wet and ready for him, just like she always was, he slid home.
When she moaned and hitched her hips forward to meet his he lost control and began to thrust hard and fast. She leaned back, placing her hands behind her for support. He heard a sink rush on and she gave a little squeal and then giggled. Unable to resist he ran his hands up her sides as he held on to her, peeling her shirt up until her bouncing breasts were exposed to him. He bent and reclaimed them for his own even as she increased the tilt of her hips until he felt her clit brushing over his abdomen. They didn’t have to work for long until they were both shouting their release into the brightly shining brass and marble. He slumped against her as she lolled against the mirror and clasped his head to her stomach.
“Mmmmm. Full.” She sounded completely and utterly sated.
He laughed and his soul finally freed a bit when she laughed with him.
For you
wisteria_, oh goddess of screencaps, superb fic and great icons I give you “Here vampy, vampy, vampy.” Buffy was sure she looked utterly ridiculous, but she was utterly bored and didn’t care. She had to stay busy and sane and fulfilling those needs currently meant staying as far away from Revello drive as possible. The little slayerettes were beginning to drive her crazy. If she didn’t find other ways to occupy herself that didn’t involve talking to them or training with them, she imagined that one day they’d find her hopping around ala pogo-stick Daffy duck, making those nutty hooting sounds.
She’d come to the cemetery hoping for a distraction. A demon. A fledgling. A scary sound. Anything. And what had all her hard searchiness been rewarded with? Nothing. It was ridiculous, you’d think that with something like this First Evil thing about there’d be block parties of demons and ghouls to have a rumble with.
Sighing, she shrugged and started for home, dreading walking in that door… and then she was grasped from behind and something cloying was pressed to her nose and then there was….nothing.
**************
She awakened slowly to a monotonous humming and a smooth, rolling feeling. Mmm…car ride. She slid back down for a few seconds, enjoying the cradled sensation until the actual thought registered. Car ride! Sitting up suddenly she was rewarded with a muzzy sensation and a sharp digging pain in her temple.
“Ow!” She tried to focus as she heard chuckling.
Sensations began to register. Alcohol. Spice. Smoke. Musk. “Spike!”
“Hey! Keep it down Slayer! ‘s not like I’m on the other side of the world.”
She turned her aching head and focused on him. One hand on the wheel, the other being pulled in from the window to raise a cigarette to his lips.
“What are you doing Spike?” She ground out with as much menace as she could muster. Unfortunately it came out less menacey and more whiney.
“Roadtrip.”
She shook her head, “I’m sorry, what?” He couldn’t have just said…
“Roadtrip. Me, you, car, driving.” He flashed her a cocky grin, as if he’d hit upon the most brilliant thing in the world.
“Stop the car Spike. Stop right now.”
“Or what? You’ll use your giant fuzzy head to bob me to death?”
Damn him. How dare he know that her head felt just like one of those startlingly over-balanced bobble-head thingies. She propped her arm on the door and leaned her giant head over to it for balance.
“Where are you taking me?” She was going to try reason now that violence was definitely out of the question.
“Surprise, pet.” Another drag, another cocky grin. Did he have to look so good while he was being so evil?
“Just close your eyes and go back to sleep for a bit. Be there before you know it.”
Actually that sounded reasonable. Her eyelids were preposterously heavy anyway, and that lovely drone of the car running throughout her body. She drifted off.
*************
“Wake up, pet.” He was nudging her thigh. Stretching and giving a jaw-cracking yawn she focused on him again.
He was grinning like an idiot. Total, unabashed joy. She crinkled her brows a bit and then smiled in spite of herself. “What?”
“We’re here.”
Her window was rolled up and since most of the windshield and all the passenger windows were smudged with black stuff she rolled it down and sucked in her breath when she saw…
Lights, everywhere, twinkly, sparkly, moving lights. Thousands of them, millions of them. “Woah.”
And then she hit him. “Vegas? You brought me to Las Vegas?”
He shied away from her, “Yeah, figured you hadn’t been here before, thought you ought to see it.”
She just stared at him. “You brought me to Las Vegas.”
She looked out the window again. It was kind of pretty in a strangely garish way. Buildings mimicking pyramids and the Eiffel Tower, a glittery plastic hot air balloon, a giant sandcastle, shining mirrored casinos everywhere. And the air was so warm, and the streets were filled with such life: economy cars and luxury cars, limos and taxis, and pedestrians everywhere.
At a lengthy light she asked, “Why?”
“Told you pet. Thought you ought to see it.” He studied her as he flicked the stub of his cigarette out the window.
“Why now?”
“Seemed right.”
Shaking her head she went back to her observation of her surroundings.
After a few passes up and down the strip of beguiling gaudiness, Spike pulled into a parking garage, and they twisted their way up. He finally pulled into an empty spot, shut off the car, opened the door and got out, calling, “Coming, pet?”
Buffy rolled through every carefully catalogued curse she’d ever picked up from every demon language she’d heard, not a few of which had come from Anya or…Spike. Sighing, she opened up the door and got out.
“What choice do I have?”
He curved his lip and lifted a brow, “None, really.” He held a hand out to her.
Resolved to her situation, Buffy placed her hand in his.
**********
They had stood in line for an hour. And she found it shockingly easy. They talked. About…stuff. Willow and her new girlfriend, Dawn’s progress in school, Anya and Xander, how her job was going, why he didn’t paint his nails anymore, why she gave up skirts, how there were no good cartoons anymore and the merits of Christina Aguleria vs. Britney Spears.
And now she was devouring what was possibly the best if not the biggest meal of her life. She’d started with a tossed-to-order Caesar salad, then moved onto the peeled shrimp and crab legs, followed by portions of prime rib, clam chowder, chicken piccatta, mashed potatoes, pasta salad, fried shrimp, fried scallops, Korean ribs, dilled potatoes, Mandarin grill, calamari, fried rice, more crab legs and finally 3 plates filled with assorted desserts.
Spike had sat back and watched her eat with an amused eye. And later an astonished one. He’d always suspected that the Slayer could pack it away, but this was unlike anything he’d ever imagined. The server must have taken away at least 6 plates, each of them nearly scraped clean. She moaned delightedly over the crab and he could feel her pulse race when she bit into the ribs, her eyes had turned to him with something akin to lust when she’d put the spoonful of chocolate mousse in her mouth. Needless to say, he was pleased with her reactions.
And then her tiny foot had wormed its way into his crotch, rubbing over him with the same movements she was using on the scoop of pistachio ice-cream she’d raced back to the dessert bar for. Her eyes never left his as she licked and rubbed. She knew precisely what she was doing to him and he’d never been gladder of a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Then her hand was on his and she was dragging him out of the booth. He dumped a fistful of crumpled money on the table as she pulled him out of the buffet. She wound her way through the crowds and the maze of slot machines as if she’d been in and out of casinos all her life. Down a short flight of stairs and then a quiet escalator. Back into a secluded bathroom where she finally turned and threw herself on him at a bench of sinks, capturing his mouth with a fervor he hadn’t experienced in far too long.
Moaning he clutched the back of her head, winding her soft hair around his fist, latching him to her. Her mouth was wet and silken, a mass of flavors and hot breath. She sucked his tongue into his mouth even as her hand stole down to stroke him through his jeans. She moved her hips away from his long enough to undo his fly and sneak in to grasp him in her tiny, strong hand.
“God, Buffy.”
“Shhhhhh.”
He let his hands wander down to her breasts, small and full, the nipples jutting through the thin fabric of her blouse, his lips soon followed leaving wet patches where he suckled and mouthed her.
She let go of his shaft suddenly and with a quick wriggle was out of her own pants. Grabbing him by the shirt she hopped up onto the bank of sinks and spread her thighs. He moved between them, and finding her wet and ready for him, just like she always was, he slid home.
When she moaned and hitched her hips forward to meet his he lost control and began to thrust hard and fast. She leaned back, placing her hands behind her for support. He heard a sink rush on and she gave a little squeal and then giggled. Unable to resist he ran his hands up her sides as he held on to her, peeling her shirt up until her bouncing breasts were exposed to him. He bent and reclaimed them for his own even as she increased the tilt of her hips until he felt her clit brushing over his abdomen. They didn’t have to work for long until they were both shouting their release into the brightly shining brass and marble. He slumped against her as she lolled against the mirror and clasped his head to her stomach.
“Mmmmm. Full.” She sounded completely and utterly sated.
He laughed and his soul finally freed a bit when she laughed with him.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 05:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 05:55 am (UTC)If I have a bad day will you write me fic like this? Porn's always good for a pick-me-up.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 06:57 am (UTC)Now I'm off to study up on what Freud says about Road Trip fetishes!
Hee.
(And I love my pretty new icon!)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 09:09 am (UTC)Bravo, dear!
:)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 11:26 am (UTC)Huh. I do seem to be having a thing with travel don't I? Actually, this one came to me while I was partaking of an actual buffet. Yum.
::smooshes you::
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 11:30 am (UTC)Kidding. I'd be happy to write you a little something to brighten your mood...though it's my wish that you never need it.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-11 11:46 am (UTC)They're so yummy together. It could be like this all the time if only damn Buffy would cooperate. ::sigh::
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 11:58 pm (UTC)and
SQUEE!
I *totally* missed this when you posted it. I only just saw it because I was randomly browsing through your LJ page after I got your reply about using the mood theme. OOH! I adore the heck out of you. Not only did you write me mushy S/B, but you wrote me... roadtrip fic! My favorite kind of fic! I really need to get to sleep, but I'm gonna be having lovely dreams now. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-13 12:31 am (UTC)I must sleep too. It's beyond late, Conan's going to start and Brendan Frasiers on and then I'm REALLY going to be in trouble.