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Chapter Three

"I've gotta pee," Buffy finally blurted out after wriggling and squeezing her thighs together for the past half hour.

Spike made a face but kept his eyes on the road. He’d been moodily quiet since she’d cast her aspersions on Drusilla’s fidelity. Buffy wasn’t sure which was worse; the insanely cheerful prattling or the little boy pout that did such interesting things to that full bottom lip.

Her eyes lingered on said lower lip, and in spite of her full bladder, she felt something stir and slither around in her lower belly. Her reaction had her whipping her head back to face the front and slamming her eyes closed.

“Spike…” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll stop at the next quickie mart.” He shot her an assessing look. “Unless you’d rather just go along the side of the road.”

She was practically snarling by now. “I can wait long enough to find a real bathroom,” she assured him coldly.

The raging silence between them was made all the more obvious by the desecrated radio. Spike kept casting resentful glances between the smashed console and her. Buffy was ready to call him on it when he whipped the car without warning into the brightly lit parking lot of a twenty-four hour convenience store. She was practically bouncing as she waited for him to exit his side and come around to let her out.

“Uhh…Spike? Kind of limited with my hands here, so you wanna come let me out?”

“Something I gotta do first, luv,” he said calmly. Before she could blink, he had her off the seat and sitting sideways on his lap.

“Spike! Cut it out, I really, really have to go, dammit!” Buffy protested, trying not to notice exactly what she was sitting on. “What the hell are you doing?”

He took his time replying, an unreadable expression on his face as he pushed her hair back over her shoulders and bared her neck. His thumb circled lazily over the scab from his earlier bite and he smirked when she shuddered involuntarily in response. Hmm. Slayer had a fang fetish. Why was he not surprised?

“Need to make sure you don’t get any stupid ideas, pet. Like maybe trying to run or doing something to draw attention to us.” His features shifted, bringing his demon to the fore to clarify his point.

Buffy jerked away, fighting against his iron grip on her upper arms. He wouldn’t! “If you think you’re gonna use me as some sort o-of chew toy, you better think again, buster!” she shrilled.

Spike laughed in her face. “And you’re going to stop me…how, exactly?” He leaned forward and trailed a cool tongue over the heated flesh of her throat, savoring the light sheen of her sweat like a connoisseur of the finest wines.

“Spike, don’t you dare…” Her warning was cut off by a yip of pain as he sank his fangs into the same marks that had quite effectively obliterated those of Angel and The Master.

It amused him that every bit of fight went out of her the second his teeth slid into her fragrant flesh. She wilted against him; soft, kittenish whimpers clawing from her throat as he took long, leisurely pulls of her sweet nectar. Spike took his time, careful to take only enough to weaken her.

She moaned in protest as he lifted his head and laved the twin punctures closed with his tongue. Her eyes drifted open to meet his and she had to struggle to focus on his smugly smiling face.

“What… What did you do?” Buffy demanded. She felt more than a little woozy and a strange lassitude weighed her extremities.

“Just took a little off the top, luv. Makes for a more biddable Buffy, at least physically.” He pushed her back into her seat and lifted her feet into his lap to undo the bindings. “Not that it has any effect on that large-sized mouth of yours. I don’t have to tell you what’ll happen if you scream for help, do I?”

Buffy scowled at him and shook her head. She lacked the strength to even get to her feet when he came around to open the door for her and was forced to accept his help out of the car. She swayed along beside him as he led her over to the bathrooms, realizing that he had probably picked this place for the outside access to the facilities. The parking lot was deserted at this time of night, so there was no one to hear her even if she did try to draw attention to them. He had her right where he wanted her and it infuriated her.

He ignored her very loud and indignant protests as he followed her inside, laughing at the look on her face as she hopped up and down in front of the stall.

“Come on, Spike, this isn’t funny! Untie my hands right the fuck now so I can go!”

“Nope. C’mere and I’ll undo your pants and pull ‘em down for you.” He moved to stand between her and the single stall, arms folded across his chest and not giving an inch in spite of her pleading looks.

Seething, she stood before him and glared into his smirking face the whole time he worked at the front of her jeans. She flinched as his cool fingers slipped under the edge of her panties and drew them and her pants down to her knees. Shouldering past him with her nose in the air, she nudged the door closed and quickly sat down.

Nothing.

Buffy wanted to cry with frustration. In spite of her now painfully brimming bladder, the presence of the annoying vampire inhibited her from letting go.

“Well?” Spike prodded. “Let’s go, slayer. Time’s a-wastin’.”

Her face was so red by now she was sure her skin was bubbling. “I- I can’t.”

“Say what?”

“I can’t go, dammit!” she exploded. “You’re standing there and you’ll hear me and I can’t go!”

Spike gawked at the closed door. “You’re having me on, right?” When a pained sob was his only answer, he rolled his eyes and stomped over to the sink. With a vicious twist he cranked both faucets on full blast. “That help with your delicate sensibilities, your highness?” he shouted over the rush of water.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” She heard him laughing at her blissful moan, but Buffy was past caring. It was such a huge relief that she couldn’t hold it in.

When she was done she was faced with yet another dilemma, but she’d cut out her tongue before she’s ask the bleached menace to wipe her ass. It took some doing- and thank God for slayer flexibility!- but she managed to bring her hands around enough to pull off some toilet paper and then contort herself into a back bend to get the job done. Feeling rather smug, she stood up and called for Spike.

“All done?” he asked with forced patience as he held the door open for her to hobble out.

She didn’t deign to answer, simply stood there with her eyes fixed on the far wall while he dragged her panties and jeans back up her legs and fastened them. He huffed impatiently when she insisted on washing her hands, but helped her none the less

Back in the car, Spike wasted no time in getting them back on the road. Dawn was fast approaching and he wanted to find a cheap motel so he could get some sleep.

With no radio to distract him and the slayer pointedly ignoring him, his thoughts turned to Drusilla. He wondered if she had missed him yet. Probably not, he thought bitterly. Faithless bint was no doubt being shagged stupid by her slimy new lover in Spike’s own bed!

He’d get her back, though. His plan was simple. Feed her the slayer and it would prove to her once and for all that he wasn’t ‘covered’ in the sanctimonious little bitch. Bloody brilliant plan, he congratulated himself, casting a glance at the Slayer’s flawless profile.

So why did he feel a twinge of unease at the thought of his lover sinking her fangs into the slayers oh-so-bitable neck?

TBC





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