Sequel to Easier Said
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to my fic "Easier Said."
Betas: The Wonderful Colleen and the Amazing Mezz (Action figures sold separately. :-)
Disclaimer: Joss is God. The characters are his. I'm merely having fun with them.
Summary: Spike takes off for places unknown only to find an unwelcome passenger along for the ride.
Road Tripp'n Part Three
Spike looked at the seat next to him, seeing his golden queen, his lover, his divine paramour... God! He felt like William again--trying to find the perfect word to describe the luminescence of her skin, the pearl of her teeth, the hue of her eyes. Eyes like the sun. Scorching, blisteringly beautiful eyes.
"I need you," she said, worrying a strand of hair between her teeth.
"I need you too, love."
His reply caused an impish smile to cross her face. She leaned towards him and ran her hands down his neck and chest, her small, deft fingers unbuttoning his shirt. He smiled.
"What are you doing?"
She answered by teasing his ear with her tongue and gently biting his earlobe. He was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on driving. Luckily, the night's traffic was sparse and the road mostly straight.
When Buffy kissed him, he pulled back, trying to see the road ahead.
"Buffy, we can't, love. I can't see when you do that," Spike reproached her softly.
"I want you now," she said huskily, undoing his belt. Spike leaned back a little to give her access. She freed his cock with her small hands, grinning at him. He smiled back.
Has she ever been more beautiful? Spike thought.
Then all thought left him as she put her mouth to work on his exposed member.
"Mmm..Spike? I need you inside me," she said, crawling over his lap and lifting her dress. He craned his neck to watch the road, shuddering slightly when she lowered herself onto him. He felt the hot, wet heat of her decend upon his shaft. He steadied her with his right arm, his hand flat against her back, while his left hand was locked firmly on the wheel. He looked over her shoulder as she began to move slowly, inch by inch, slipping him deep, then almost out, then deeper still. She licked her lips sensuously and moaned.
"I love how your cock feels inside me," she whispered in his ear. He shivered in pleasure. He spared a glance and saw a strange, unexpected look on her face.
"Do you know how to break someone?"
"What?" He looked at her confused. She was still moving on him, now rolling her hips, grinding against him almost painfully, while inside her wonderful muscles clenched rhythmically around him.
"Break someone," she continued. "Make it hurt so bad they can't function. Can't live anymore."
"I'm not bloody Angelus," Spike gritted out. Why the fuck was she asking this? But his reply only made her grin.
"No, you're William the Bloody." She laughed and he felt cold. Deathly cold.
"What's your point, love?" he asked, a terrible feeling rising in him. A truck passed on the other side of the road, its lights on bright, nearly blinding him as flashes of green and red exploded behind his eyes.
"You already know the point, William. It's simple. You break people by giving them what they want." Suddenly, his cock was being squeezed by her inner muscles--tight. So fucking tight. He gasped and thrust deep, unable to stop pumping into her as he unleashed himself.
He saw her, smiling at him as he convulsed. Her brilliant, white smile filled his vision. So bright. So incredibly bright. Her teeth gleaming like stars.
No, not stars. Like...like...
The impact ripped Spike from his seat and sent him smashing through the windshield. His body bounced and scraped to a halt several feet from the twisted metal wreck. He briefly felt something hot and wet against his side, then blacked out.
"Dawn, Spike could be anywhere," Buffy replied, feeling a small hole form in her gut.
"We have to find him! Now!" Dawn cried, nearly hysterical. "It's your fault! You let him leave!"
"I'm not the one that gave him the blood!"
That was low, beneath her, and Buffy regretted the words even as they tumbled out of her mouth. But she was afraid for Spike now. Dawn had made her afraid. Now he was gone *and* in danger, and there was nothing she could do about it. The hole in her gut felt like it was expanding to her chest, making it hard to breathe.
"I'm...I'm sorry, Dawn. I didn't mean it..." But Dawn collapsed on the couch weeping uncontrollably while the rest of the Scoobies shot Buffy angry glances.
Can I mess things up any more? Buffy thought, sighing.
"Maybe it isn't this guy. How do we know it's this guy?" Xander asked.
Good, Buffy thought. Hope. Give me...no Dawn, hope.
"Only one way to find out," Buffy stated, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door.
"You want backup?" Xander managed to get out just as Buffy slammed the door behind her.
"Guess not," Willow said with a small frown, while Tara held Dawn and whispered every word of comfort she could think of.
"I can't find a pulse. And he's cold."
"Damn, he's messed up real bad..."
"Holy shit! He's moving. We've got a live one!"
"Start chest compressions. Watch the blood."
"Damn... How much is in this guy? It's everywhere."
"He's lost a lot of blood. I'm still not getting a pulse, but he's moving. Must be faint. What about the other guy?"
"Where the hell are the cops?"
"Should we go?"
"Let's get him loaded. Call County. We can't wait. This guy could go any minute."
Darkness. In the dark. Cold. So cold.
Spike awoke wondering how long he had his eyes open. Even his vampire vision couldn't penetrate the dark. He dimly realized he was lying on metal, a thin sheet half covering him. He reached out and found walls close, all around him. The memory of scraping his way out of his grave burst in Spike's mind, and he scratched at the cold walls in a panic.
"Calm down you bloody idiot!" Spike said to himself, trying to think, regain control.
He remembered driving. Escaping from...Buffy. Buffy. Having sex with Buffy while...
Do you know how to break someone?
I'm not bloody Angelus.
Lights. Blinding lights and...and Buffy. Laughing.
More lights, red this time.
Voices crushing and poking him.
"Bloody hell," Spike muttered. He reached above and pushed. The door wouldn't open. He slammed his fist hard against the metal and heard a small latch give.
Spike winced as the door flung open, the bright fluorescent lights stinging his eyes. He climbed out of his metal coffin far from amused. He was in a hospital morgue.
"Must've finally given up on me," Spike said, looking around. "Fuck, what did they do with my clothes?"
He felt a sharp pain in his side and found a long curling line of stitches traveling up to his armpit.
"At least they sewed me up first." Spike grimaced as he gingerly pressed his fingers to his side. It would heal. His vamp body was already working overtime on it. At least he was in a hospital. Shouldn't be too hard to nick some blood, he thought.
Spike found his clothes in the next room under the label "John Doe." He quickly got dressed, afraid of being discovered by hospital personnel. His shirt was a mess of holes and small tears. His pants hadn't fared much better.
"My car!" Spike groaned, suddenly remembering the wreck.
But it was the next thought that terrified him more than any other.
Buffy waited until the last customers left, hanging back, eyeing the rows of sausage and steaks and hamburger with a slight feeling of nausea. The short, burly man behind the counter was definitely the man in the picture Willow had showed them. When he smiled, handing the white paper wrapped steaks to a customer, she wanted to snap his neck.
This guy was selling poisoned blood to her...vampires? Buffy didn't complete that thought. Instead, she fumed, and waited until they were alone.
"Can I help you, miss?"
Buffy smiled. "Sure. I heard this is the place to buy rare stuff...I don't know, like blood for example?" She noticed him blanch a little, but he quickly covered it by going to the door and putting up a "closed" sign.
"I told your kind to wait 'till I was closed," he muttered, starting to head to the back of the shop. Buffy stepped in front of him.
"I'm not a vampire."
He looked surprised. "You're not..."
"No. But I have friend that..."
"A f..friend?" he rasped, as if the word pained him. "A boyfriend?"
Buffy was taken aback. "Uh, well..."
Suddenly he grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, a wild look in his eyes.
"Who is he? It's him isn't it!" Buffy broke his grip with some effort, but he continued to speak, his voice rising.
"You can't trust him! He's evil, don't you understand? They're all evil. They can't love, no matter what they tell you." He spat out the last part with such bitterness that Buffy stepped back, her mind reeling.
How does he know about...?
But he was there, blocking her way, his manic eyes boring into hers.
"Listen to me, little girl. Run away while you can. He's lying to you. Just like he lied to my..." Finally, he stopped and broke down into tears.
Buffy looked at the man in horror and sympathy, finally beginning to understand. She looked around the room and saw a picture of a pretty, blonde haired girl on top of the register. She walked over and picked it up.
"Your daughter?" Buffy asked.
He nodded. "Ellee."
"What...what happened to her?"
"She started to see him, snuck out at night. I tried to stop her, but she...she wouldn't listen. He told her he loved her, and she believed him. She was my little girl..." He started to cry again. Buffy patted him on the shoulder awkwardly, her anger dissolving with his grief.
"That night..." Buffy began.
"She was going to see him. I know it. He did this to her. She wouldn't have gotten in that car wreck otherwise," he said, his eyes flashing with anger.
"Merle. It's Merle, right?" He nodded. "I know what you're doing...with the blood. And the poison. I need you to stop." He looked a bit guilty, but his eyes still burned with anger.
"They're going to pay for what they did to my Ellee," he said firmly.
"Merle, they will pay. I make them pay." He looked at her in confusion.
"I...hunt them. Kill them. It's what I do." Merle looked at her, surprise and hope crossing his face.
"Just a minute!" he exclaimed, then ran to the back of the shop. Buffy waited, idly looking at the picture of Merle's daughter. She looked somewhat familiar, but Buffy couldn't place her. Abruptly, Merle returned with a rolled up paper and a brown envelope.
"She made a drawing of him. I found it in her room," he said excitedly, handing her the paper. Buffy unrolled it, finding a portrait done in pencil of a handsome, young man with piercing eyes.
"She had talent," Buffy murmured.
"Will you do it?" Merle asked. He shoved the envelope eagerly into her hand. She noticed briefly that it was stained with small drops of blood. Buffy looked inside and found money. Lots of money.
"Do what?" Buffy asked, confused.
"Kill him! Find him and kill him. Is that enough money? I can get more."
"No, Mr. Hansen. I can't take..." Buffy started.
"Please? He killed my baby." He started to choke up again as Buffy stared at the money. She needed money. But this...
Buffy looked at the portrait again and something clicked. She knew this vampire. In the crypt. In Spike's crypt. He had been there with another vamp--a young girl with blonde hair...
No, please! I love her! We'll leave town. You'll never see us again! Please!
He had turned her. Made it look like an accident, Buffy thought dully.
"Please, take it."
Buffy looked at Merle, barely hearing what he was saying, an icy numbness crashing through her.
"You'll need money," he pleaded. "To track him down, right? I can get more."
Track him down? But she had already found him in Spike's crypt. Found him with Merle's undead little girl. She had beat them and staked them.
At least their ashes were together, Buffy thought wildly, crushing down the urge to burst out laughing. At least she thought it was laughter.
They can't love, no matter what they tell you.
Spike. I need to find Spike.
"Take it, please?"
Please! I love her!
Buffy stuffed the envelope inside her jacket and turned to go. Merle sighed in relief.
"No more...with the blood. Okay?" Buffy said, pausing at the door. He nodded, tears streaming down to the corners of his beatific smile.
Two blocks away, Buffy stumbled into an alley and threw up, emptying her stomach on the cold, hard asphalt.
Continued in Road Tripp'n Part Four