Chapter3

Buffy

No matter how many times I tell myself I shouldn’t go, here I am, standing in front of the mirror, clothes all over the bed wondering what you wear on a date with a vampire.

What would Spike like? Do I dress to please him, or do I dress to please myself and show him who’s still in charge of all this?

Truth is, I’ve already been shopping. Bought some stuff then I came home and shoved it in the back of the closet. But now, it’s here on the bed and I can’t resist. Just for tonight I want to be something other than Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

My hair isn’t even the same colour. I’ve sprayed it mouse brown, because tonight I want to disappear into the crowd and have no one notice me except for Spike. I have this crazy plan, you see and I don’t know if he’s going to go for it, but it’s always been a fantasy of mine. So here goes. Let’s start with the basics.

Underwear. Silky, satiny, lacy, of course. Sheer, see-through, hardly there. Black or red? Couldn’t decide so I tossed a coin and red it was. The brightest scarlet. Push up bra, front opener. A thong so brief I don’t know why I’m bothering to wear it.

Garter belt. Too trashy? Good, on it goes along with the black stockings. Yeah, now I’m looking the part. Almost starting to feel the part.

Nice little blouse, demure almost, all buttoned up but you can see right through it, cost me a lot, that bra. Gotta show it off. And a lycra skirt that I have to lie down get into and that barely covers the stocking tops. And that’s good too. A pair of red stilettos to finish off and I can’t believe I’ve just blown my savings to dress sexy for Spike.

But here’s your surprise, Spike. Got to make you work for this. You’re not having it all your way, and as I said, it’s fantasy time all round.

I twist my hair into a knot and secure it at the back of my head. Then I put on a pair of spectacles. Cost me a bomb all this, but it’s going to be so worth it to see his face. I just love it when my snarky boy is lost for words. It’s a weird effect, part librarian, part tramp. Need to lose the shoes or they’ll spoil the surprise. They go in my bag and instead I slip on a pair of trainers. It’s all finished off with an old brown coat that I’ve had for years and never really found a reason to wear, until now.

I’m not wearing make-up. Yet. It’s with my shoes, in my bag for later.

And my responsibilities as a daughter, sister and vampire slayer? The news from the hospital was better today, mom’s operation went well. It’s just a wait and see now, and there’s nothing I can do. Dawn is sleeping over with a friend, and the vampire population of Sunnydale will still be there tomorrow and the next day and the next. Tonight is their lucky night and my night off. And if that sounds cynical, and as if I’m not doing my job, then I can’t help it. If I tried to save everyone who needs saving, knowing that I couldn’t possibly, then I’d go mad. Sometimes I feel as if my life sucks me dry, always taking and never replacing. Tonight I’m going to put something back. It’s strange, but doing this makes me feel strong. Tomorrow, back to the killing. Tonight I’m going out to play.

I pick up my bag and take one last look in the mirror.

Perfect. This is exactly how you dress when you’re going out to have sex in a public place, with a vampire.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike

It’d be just like her not to show. She’s always going to keep me dangling on a leash, waiting around just in case. I’ve been here half an hour already. Where the bloody hell is she?

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the sex in public thing? Maybe I misread the signals? Maybe this isn’t what she needs when her mum’s lying ill in the hospital?

Someone’s coming and I look up eagerly, but it’s not her. Wrong hair and definitely not dressed for a date with a vampire. Stupid bint. Doesn’t she know how dangerous it is out here after dark? Look at that body language, practically begging me to eat her for dinner. I can’t oblige love, but someone will. She’s standing on the corner all huddled up in a terrible coat. All prim and proper. I look closer. Something familiar but I can’t place it. She’s looking at her watch, waiting for someone and I look again, screw up my eyes and it’s her. Buffy.

Hell, I did misread it. Look at her. But then I look again. Kind of cute really. Always loved the vulnerable look. Sweet little victim look. Standing there all nervous while I cruise by in my big black Cadillac and offer her candy.

“Buffy?” I say as I wind down the window.

“Spike?”

I get out and open the door for her. She gives me a very small smile and slides into the car.

“Didn’t know you wore glasses love, and what’s with the hair?” I say starting the engine.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she replies arranging her awful coat around her, and clipping herself into the seatbelt. Seems funny that. Going on a date with a vampire, to a sex club and still she buckles up.

Driving in a car’s going to be the safest thing you’ll be doing tonight, love. Or at least it was going to be. Not sure now. Thrown me for a loop this has.

“Er, you do know where we’re going tonight, don’t you? You did read the note?”

“Yes,” she replies, peering at me over the top of her glasses. “You said we were going out to have sex in public. So, what are you waiting for?”

“You got the message?”

“Yes, I got the message.”

“We’ll go then shall we?”

“Anytime you’re ready.”

So I drive and she crosses her legs and leans back and I just happen to notice that they’re clad in something black and sheer and her hand is running absently over her knee where the coat is open. She sees me looking and closes the coat, pulling it down to cover herself, and that’s when I notice that her nails are painted a bright shiny red. She inspects them, all innocent – like, then leaves them to rest on her lap, right over the place that I was kissing only yesterday.

And if I had a heartbeat it would be starting that slow steady thumping just about now. Remember it from my human days. Glimpse of stocking, lace petticoat, whiff of perfume or even better, sweaty armpits and whoosh, the heart would start up, the fingers would be trembling, the poetry forming in my brain. Sad git, wasn’t I? It’s almost as if she knows what gets my motor revving.

I see the game now. She wants to be seduced, even after all we’ve done, and yeah I can do that. I’m an expert at that.

“So,” I ask her, joining in, “What’s your name, love.”

“Joan,” she says without hesitation, and I almost laugh out loud. But luckily, I don’t. Can’t spoil this, it’s bloody exciting.

“What’s yours?” She says in an innocent, lisping voice.

“Randy,” I reply. Cos I am, but I don’t know if she gets the joke.

“I don’t usually do this sort of thing,” she says wrapping her arms around herself and huddling back into the seat. “I don’t usually get into cars with strange men.”

“You want to watch it, girl,” I tell her sternly. “Can’t be too careful these days, don’t know who you’re going to meet.”

“But you’ll take care of me, Randy. Won’t you? You look kind of nice.”

“Appearances can be deceptive, love. You shouldn’t trust them.”

“But I can trust you?” she says, her eyes huge. And she’s almost cowering now. That gets me the hottest of all. Brings back memories I’ve had to crush since the chip. My demons screaming to be let loose, but I squash him down. Enjoying this tease far too much.

“You look like a good girl, Joan,” I tell her. “What are you doing out on a night like this? Don’t you know there are things out here just waiting to swallow you whole?”

“Really?” She looks nervously around her. “What kind of things?”

“Ever heard of vampires, love? Werewolves, demons?”

“Not real,” she says looking out of the window then back at me. “Stories made up to frighten children.”

“And sweet young things like you?”

“I’m not scared,” she says lifting her chin.

“Then you should be, look, I’ll take you home. Tuck you up in your nice little bed where you’ll be safe. Do you want me to do that?”

“I should,” she says letting the coat fall open once more. Her hands rest lightly on her knees then she draws them slowly up her thighs, pushing her legs open as she does it. Then the coat’s closed again and she’s looking at me.

“Vampires, did you say?”

“And werewolves and demons. But you trust me, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Do you want to come for a drink with me, then?” I say.

She huddles back into the coat. “Oh no, I should get home.”

“Someone’s waiting for you? Boyfriend, perhaps?”

She looks sad. “No,” she says. “No one waiting for me. I’m all alone.”

“Doesn’t seem right,” I tell her. “Come on, just one drink, promise I’ll take you straight home after that.”

She sighs and bites her lip. I’m having trouble not crashing the car. Not easy, driving and seducing at the same time. Okay for her. She’s only seducing.

“Okay,” she says at last. “But just one and then you’ll take me home? You’ll look after me, won’t you?”

“I sure will, miss” I say. “You can count on that.”

-------------------------------------------------------
Buffy

We’re going to get pulled over by the police if he doesn’t start driving straight. And I’m so ready for him that I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up before I jump him. Didn’t know librarian - school-marm could feel so sexy.

We drive for a long time without talking. Every now and then I give him my wide-eyed innocent look and he gives me his macho look. Playing the concerned protector suits him. And for once in a while I can let it all go and just let him take me to wherever.

He pulls up outside a dark building in the middle of nowhere. The door opens and there’s a shaft of light, the sound of pumping music and laughter, then a couple stagger out into the night. They stop for a heated kiss, his hands roam all over her. Her leg’s wrapped around his waist. They know we’re watching. Well, I’m watching. Spike, or Randy, as I should call him, is watching me, watching them.

“Does it excite you?” he asks me. “Watching them.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Makes me feel…”

“Feel what?” he says leaning over to me. His finger hooks under my chin and he turns my face to him. “You’ve very beautiful,” he says looking deep into my eyes. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“No,” I say.

“Then you should,” he says splaying out his fingers across my cheek to hold me in place.

I don’t know why this is so exciting. Why, when I’ve done virtually everything I can with this man, him doing something so plain and simple as touching my face and telling me I’m beautiful gets to me like nothing else. It’s as if we missed this stage out somewhere along the line and now we need to go back and fill in the gaps. Good old fashioned courting. Starting at the beginning, getting to first base. Looking kissing touching. Asking nicely. Guess we just kind of jumped straight in the deep end before.

“May I kiss you, Joan,” he asks.

“We’ve only just met,” I say.

“Just a small one,” he says, his hand tightening on my cheek, pulling me towards him.

I put up a very token resistance, but even as I do my lips are puckering for the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had. Just his mouth on mine, nothing demanding. Just enough to tell me that I’ll definitely be wanting more. He pulls away, and I’m left hovering in mid air, wondering where he’s gone. I sit up and primly adjust my coat, flash him a confused look. Almost a reproachful look. He cocks his head.

“Did you like that?” he asks.

I place two fingers on my lips and can still feel them tingling. “Yes,” I say quietly. “Would you like to do it again?”

“Hell yes,” he says. Then he grabs me and drags me across the seat towards him. “God, woman, you make me feel like a sixteen year old again,” he says, passionately this time, and his mouth takes mine again in a kiss that couldn’t be more different from the last one.

This time he leaves me dizzy and gasping for air. He leaves me groping for him in the darkness as he pulls away and slams his hands down on the steering wheel.

“I want to touch you,” he says. His eyes are dark now, his gaze piercing me with its intensity and I shiver. The way he says it. It’s a command I can’t ignore.

“Where,” I ask him.

“All over,” he says his voice low. “Everywhere. Will you let me do that?”

“I shouldn’t,” I say.

“But you will?” he replies. His hand reaches across and settles on my knee. “I won’t hurt you,” he says. “I’d never do that.”

“I know,” I say struggling now to keep my hands still. To stop myself from grabbing his and pushing it between my legs where I want him to be. But I’m Joan tonight. Prim, proper little Joan who has a wild side she doesn’t even know about, but which, I suspect, she’s going to find out pretty soon.

His hand squeezes my knee very lightly and then works its way into the folds of the coat. His fingers curl around my thigh and slowly, agonizingly it works its way upwards. When he gets to the garter belt he stops and looks at me, his eyes wide, and even amidst this sensual haze that he seems to have trapped me in, I find myself having to check the laughter that wants to bubble out. His face is a picture. Looks as if he’s just found buried treasure. He looks surprised and pleased at the same time.

I let out a small moan as his hand reaches the front of my panties, palm flat, fingers spread and his gaze catches mine.

Then his fingers close as he bunches up the material, and pulls it away from me. A feather- light touch of fingertips across my already over-sensitised skin has me jumping out of my seat again.

He makes a deep, growling sound in the back of his throat.

“You really should be more careful who you accept lifts from, little girl,” he says leaning very close again.

By now my nerves are on fire for him. Screaming for him to touch me, so I shift my hips upward so his fingers are doing what they’re supposed to be doing, but still he doesn’t move them. I slide myself back and forth, trying to get the friction I need, rapidly forgetting that I’m supposed to be Joan.

“You like that, don’t you?” he says letting his finger twitch just a little.

I nod, not really listening to what he’s saying because all I can feel is his hand moving on me now, filling me with a sweet ache.

“Well, well,” he says with a chuckle. Seems like there’s more to this package than meets the eye, my sweet little Joan. He hooks his fingers over the waistband of the panties and starts to slide them down.

“Don’t think you’ll be needing these tonight, love,” he says. “Take them off for me, will you?”

tbc…





You must login (register) to review.