Or, he could just stay where he was, waiting for Buffy to figure out that she wants to be with him. “Right,” he chuckled disdainfully, taking one of the bottles of alcohol and cracking it open.
He couldn't believe he was back to drinking himself to oblivion over another bint.
Buffy knew exactly where she was going and she had no intention of stopping, even though Angel was following her. For someone who was so used to walking away – even when he shouldn't – Angel had been sort of slow on the uptake lately. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe or accept that someone could actually like Spike. Or maybe even love him.
“He's probably left Sunnydale by now,” Angel insisted, quickening his steps to keep up with her as they walked down Revello Drive.
Buffy only let out at exasperated sigh and grimaced at Angel's attempt to make her stop going after what she wanted. He should have learned by now, after everything they'd been through, that no one could really stop her when she was determined. Plus, Spike had never done anything other people told him to do and he sure wasn't going to start now. She was certain he'd still be in Sunnydale. It had only been a few hours after he'd left the Summers' home and it wasn't like he was in a hurry or anything, right? Buffy shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts of doubts and hesitations. He does like me.
Finally giving up, Angel stopped traipsing after Buffy. He huffed and dropped his arms at his sides, shaking his head at the sight of Buffy walking away from him and even worse, that she was leaving him to go after Spike.
“He's not going to be there,” Angel called out again, hoping that Buffy would just stop, because this – it didn't make any sort of sense.
Despite the little voice in her head, making her have second thoughts, Buffy only continued walking and tossed her hair, emphasizing to the dumb vamp that he was being ignored. She had enough of everyone trying to control her. It was her life, she needed to do what she wanted, and she had a plan to do just that.
After walking all the way and finally arriving at the abandoned factory where she was hoping Spike was, she crept in and descended the staircase carefully. She saw Spike lying on the bed and she smiled.
She sauntered closer and tried waking him up. “Spike,” she said, poking him with her index finger repeatedly. She finally gave up and figured if two minutes of poking and screaming wouldn’t wake Spike up, then nothing would. Well, except maybe for hard things thrown at him or hitting him really hard, but she was over the hurting-Spike phase.
Buffy groused, “Ugh! What kind of vampire sleeps at night?” She sighed and shook her head, and then noticed the bottles of bourbon. She rolled her eyes, slipped her hands inside the back pocket of her jeans and worried her lip in contemplation. She stared at the sleeping, possibly drunk vampire. while a sly grin slowly spread across her face..
Spike roused to the sounds of several car horns blaring, people cursing and shouting, and tires screeching. Upon realizing that he was in his car – his fast moving, Buffy-driven car – his eyes flew open and he jerked up straight. “Hoollyyyy sssshh--” Spike grabbed onto the dashboard as the car swerved. If he'd been hammered, he sure was fully awake and very sober now. He turned, eyes wide and mouth agape, to the very determined Slayer in the driver’s seat. She was leaning forward, peering out into the street through the un-blackened part of the windshield, and gripping onto the steering wheel.
Keeping his voice very calm to get her attention without startling her, Spike began, “Slayer... Buffy...” His voice abruptly rose to a shout, “What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?”
Buffy turned to him and distractedly answered, “Driving your car?”
“And why, pray tell, are you doing that?” Spike did his best to mimic his “completely calm” voice.
“I... I needed to get out of Sunnydale,” Buffy explained, and turned to Spike fully, as if completely forgetting she was driving.
Spike's eyes widened and he frantically pointed towards the windshield. “Wa-wa-watch where you're going!” he screamed. He wasn’t a Nancy boy. It was just one thing to be a daredevil and drive fast; get the adrenaline pumping, get a few kicks out of it. He enjoyed that. It was a very different thing to drive fast when one was lunatic enough to drive like Buffy.
“It's hard to 'watch where I'm going' when almost every part of the windshield's painted black!” Buffy retorted, doing as he instructed. “Oh my God, a kitten!” she exclaimed, and swerved the car to avoid said cat.
“Stop! Stop the bleeding car!” Spike shouted again, a little more high-pitched than he wanted, still holding on to the dashboard for dear life. Buffy obliged him and hastily stomped on the brake, which brought the car to a screeching halt. At the sudden stop, Spike was thrown forward and hit his head on the windshield.
“Oopsie,” Buffy said with an impish grin.
Spike clenched his jaw, one hand holdig onto his aching head, and righted himself. “You,” he pointed a finger at Buffy. “You gave me a fucking heart attack.” Buffy gave him a pointed stare and he clarified, “Figure of speech.”
“I thought you'd like that I came for you,” she pouted.
“Oh, I do love you cumming for me, kitten,” he said saucily, and smirked at the double entendre. At Buffy's straight face, he rolled his eyes and continued seriously, “I do like it, pet. Grand gesture of love and all that rot.” Buffy opened her mouth but he quickly spoke up. “Right. Not love. Anyway, the idea of getting killed together in a tragic car accident doesn't necessarily appeal that much to me.”
Buffy opened her mouth again to object, but Spike held up a hand and beat her to it. “I was exaggerating.” He peered through the small transparent part of the windshield. “Where are we, anyway?”
“L.A.” She bowed her head and said somberly, “I just want some time away from them. All of them. All of Sunnydale.” She raised her head and looked into Spike's sympathetic eyes.
They gazed at each other and without any words, like they still had a connection even without the claim, Spike understood. “Okay.” He nodded, carefully, once.
Buffy smiled and turned from him happily. She placed her hand on the key in the ignition to start up the car, but Spike chuckled and she turned back to him with her brows furrowed.
“I don't think so,” Spike snorted, shaking his head.
Buffy raised her brows and asked, “What?”
“You're never driving my,” he emphasized by pointing to himself, “car again.”
Buffy scoffed. “Why the hell not?” At Spike's 'do you really need to ask' look, one of his eyebrows arched and a frown tugging at his lips, Buffy continued. “We can't exchange places; it's day,” she pointed out.
“Sure, we can. Just... ” Spike did some pointing and waving things with his hands, which Buffy supposed was what he wanted her to do.
“Fine,” she huffed. Spike barely slid towards the driver's side as Buffy maneuvered over to the passenger's side, moving almost as if she was going to straddle Spike.
And she did. Spike grabbed her hips and pressed her against him. “Spike, stop it!” Buffy scolded, though she couldn't suppress a smile.
“But I missed you...” he said as he pouted, caressing the hips that, God, he’d missed so bloody much. It wasn't that long ago that they'd shagged, but thinking he'd lost her just made him miss her more.
Bright red colored Buffy's cheeks at Spike's adorable pout and the way his fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her top. But really, it was more from what he said – it didn't matter whether he meant it or not. She relaxed, and tried to ignore the hard on that was poking her just at the right spot. “We need to find a motel. We can't stay all day or sleep in this hunk of junk.”
Vampire strength plus slayer strength equals hours and hours of rough, dangerous, addictive, amazing sex. She'd never felt this sore and this good. And what made it better? Knowing Spike actually wanted it, wanted her.
There had been no confession of feelings or talk about the things that had happened the past few weeks, and she didn't really know where they stood or what they were. Sure, they knew they wanted each other, but did want or desire really make them a couple?
Spike stroked her cheek gently and snapped her out of her musings. “What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?”
She drowned in those beautiful blue eyes of his and then realized that it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was making her happy. “Nothing,” she said while gazing at him, and then she yawned.
Spike caressed her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “You should get some rest.”
Buffy rolled over and grabbed a handful of the blanket, and tucked it under her chin, her lips stretching into a contented smile. But at the thought of Sunnydale, her smile faded. She knew she was going back. She just hoped Spike would go back with her. Buffy turned to the vampire beside her and looked into his soft, blue eyes, and she knew he would.