Intro Notes: I was in the middle of this piece when "Seeing Red" aired, and I was, of course, highly traumatized. So I'm going to take this series even further away from the events on "Buffy" and then try for a happy smutty resolution, once I get all my angst and sex in.
Title: Senses Must Compete: Version 3.0
Author: Dear Cheetoh Breath
Email: [email protected]
Summary: The third installment of my Spike/Tara series � the sequel to �From the Heart Down�
Spoilers: Most of Season Six
Pairing: Spike/Tara
Rating: NC-17 � het sex and a bit of the bloody stuff
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are the property of Mutant Enemy and it�s not my fault that I found them lying around, just waiting to be tossed into some cheesy porn.
Thanks to my wonderful beta readers: C. Romer, Lovesbitca, and Ddevil.
He�d spent the relatively short years of his human life learning that thinking with his head was never going to do much for him. So, upon his elevation into his new life, he�d let himself be guided solely by the two strongest, purest forces within him - his heart and his penis. And for more than a century, it worked better than any organized religion could even try to claim. But as donned his black duster, the most socially acceptable equivalent to a cape one could wear these days, he found himself travelling again to Buffy�s house, even though he knew she was just as likely to greet him with Mr. Pointy as she was to simply pound him. He smiled bitterly to himself; even Dru had never gone so far as to name a piece of wood. But all the same, he was unable to alter his path, his trajectory. Somewhere between his heart and his cock he�d gotten very, very lost.
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The date had gone well, Tara thought, though with her tiny amount of experience, anything that didn�t end in death or depression was almost too good to hope for. Chloe kissed her good-bye in the car after she parked in front of her dorm. Tara relaxed into the light pleasure and leaned out of the embrace with a soft sigh. In that instant she could see herself with this new girl, see the two of them together for weeks, months, years. She saw hours of pleasant trivial conversation interrupted by hours of mellow indulgent sex, all punctuated by those soft sighs.
She watched the brunette walk up to the front door in the afternoon sunlight, yet another girl who managed that light, springy posture, taking up as much space as she wanted to, feeling entitled to exist wherever she happened to be. During the previous years of her life, Tara�s main goal had been to go unnoticed, or with as little notice as possible. It was like learning to walk in high heels, or underwater, this strange business of welcoming, even striving for attention.
When she first left home she�d had to accustom herself to pushing herself alone into situations, talking to strangers, being looked at by people who could be thinking anything. She had mapped out a daily circuit, only leaving the sanctity of her dorm room, finally a home entirely of her own, for a few absolute necessities, classes, meals, the occasional study session. She�d considered attending the Wicca group meetings to be a necessary evil, the only way to find a coven in this new town.
Willow had been like a flashlight in a sea of lighters. She gratefully followed in her wake, for once thrilled to be seen. She�d spent more than a year as a part of Willow�s background, a nearly silent attendee of the scooby meetings. After Buffy died, she�d slowly moved into a sort of foreground. She was the one who took care of anything that might be forgotten, who played something close to parent to Dawn, who tried to keep Willow from self-destructing. Now, suddenly, she was expected to play an actual role, people were looking at her other dimensions, seeing her as an entire separate person. Tara turned the radio to blaring as she drove the car back to Buffy�s.
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Spike was nearly a century and a half old, but his actual dating experience was dwarfed by the pathetic love lives of most of all Buffy�s friends, even that of her little sister. The years he had spent with Dru had conditioned him to her, his urges matched her cravings, his thoughts still ran at the frequencies of his lover�s screams and laughter. His attempts to translate himself into Buffy�s fast plastic dialect had resulted in little more than increasing the variations of pain they�d been feeling.
Still, he was once again on his way to her house. He rationalised the trip, he was testing out a new route that used a different sewer way and let him take advantage of the heavily wooded yards of several families on Buffy�s block. It left him in her backyard, right by the garage that she never remembered to lock.
As he entered, the odd combination of the smells of gasoline and demon blood hit him. Buffy had on occasion brought back some identifying piece of a kill for Giles to identify, and had kept them overnight in the old packing crates that lined the back wall. He had images of Buffy; younger, dark-faced and sweaty, holding some bit of claw or head or tentacle at arm�s length. Buffy, before she�d died that second time. The Buffy he had fallen in love with. The Buffy who would swear and joke and had once chased Xander for blocks, wielding some oozing jagged scrap, nearly screaming with laughter.
He felt the hood of the car, it was still warm. Buffy must be just home. He considered waiting here a bit - let her have a minute to whinge to Red and the platelet, to change into something with easier access, to maybe start thinking that he�d be fun thing to have around.
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This was the part of the day when she would have been starting dinner, or reminding someone else to do it. Dawn would sit in the dining room trying to guilt someone into doing her homework for her, a ploy that frequently worked with Willow, as incorrect equations and misspellings were like fingernails on a chalkboard to her. Even though it wasn�t her home anymore, and she knew that she had to stop thinking of it that way - for now at least - she let herself fall into beginning the rudiments of dinner, putting up a recipe, setting out the pots and pans, pre-heating the oven, even though the odds were that all these things would go untouched until the next time she stopped by, except for maybe something from Wong Chung�s being spilled on the pan.
Tara found a note on the kitchen table from Buffy that said she was doing a double shift at the Double Meat Palace, and wouldn�t need to be picked up until after midnight. That left her with a few options. She could just wait around the house until that time, make sure Dawn had something to eat other than fast food, help her with her homework, maybe do a load of laundry as she was the only one in the house who knew that the instructions on clothing tags were more than just short bad haiku. That would be the most conscience-pleasing choice, especially since she had used her might-be-girlfriend�s best friend�s car to take out another girl after errands she�d run for Buffy that morning. But staying could mean being around Willow, for hours. Seeing her, hearing her, feeling the way a room changed when she entered, and all with the residue of another girl on her. She paused, realizing that she felt more guilt about a kiss, well, honestly several kisses, with another girl than she�d even considered feeling about actual white-knuckled all-body making-Baby-Jesus-cry sex with Spike.
She recalled the last night she had spent with him, how he had accused her of using him because he didn�t count as person to her. Maybe her guilt stemmed from the fact that she could care for Chloe, possibly love her. She represented a life entirely apart from Willow. Spike was more an exercise for her hormones, like a vibrator, but man-sized, and undead, and non-vibrating.
After her second...encounter, she had thought of maybe testing whether she was still as gay as she thought she was. Willow had considered herself entirely straight before their relationship. Maybe she had some strange secret heterosexual self that had just taken twenty-one years and a bleached blond vampire who reminded her entirely too much of Billy Idol sometimes to bring out. She and Dawn had accompanied Xander on his trip to the tux rental store in the mall for the exterior purpose of buying dyable shoes for their bridesmaid dresses, and the ulterior one of spending some time watching young men in formal wear, which was supposed to magnify their attractiveness more than tenfold.
Sitting on chairs just outside the dressing room, she saw Xander try on numerous tuxedoes before deciding on a plain black set. Then she discovered that from her seat, if she looked carefully, she could see Xander in his Mighty Mouse boxers being measured in the outer section of the dressing room. Her and Dawn�s attention was quickly drawn to a small group of teenage boys looking for formal wear for some school dance. Dawn blushed and giggled and pretended to be in a deep conversation with Tara and not noticing the fact that the boys were goofing around for their benefit. They had mock sword fights with the decorative canes on display, did James Bond impressions, and pretended to accidentally wander out of the dressing room sans shirts or pants.
They were very clearly having an effect on Dawn, who whispered her admiration for their smiles and chests to Tara, hoping beyond hope that maybe they were all going to some wonderful high school dance stag and now that they�d seen her would ask if she�d been their date. And then maybe she could ask if she could invited Janice to come too, because two girls and five boys would be more fair, and it still meant she�d get to dance every dance and not have to stand around the walls with a crowd of girls drinking bland punch and gossiping about which of the lucky girls with dates was stuffing her bra. But at least two of them seemed very focused on Tara, making obvious attempts to get her to openly acknowledge their stunning cuteness.
However Tara felt more like she was watching a live-action episode of South Park. They were very good looking, for boys, but they only reminded her of watching the penguins play at the zoo, except that the penguins had yet to master the art of purposefully annoying tailors and applying profane words to all types of fabric. Her later experiments had the same result - there was nothing about the swim team, or the streaking fraternity pledges, or the visiting Chilean physical therapy students who gave out free massages on Wednesday afternoons that could even compare to the effect that her first girlfriend�s earlobe alone had on her. She wondered if it were something unique to vampires, if maybe she�d be better off starting some Dykes for Spike support group, like Jews for Jesus, but with dirty wrongness instead of religion.
Chloe had been in her English class, sitting directly in front of her, usually twisting her dark curls up in a loose bun or French twist, leaving a few tendrils to lie just above the exposed nape of her neck. It seemed an innocent bit of skin to stare at, just the back of her neck, nothing anyone else would even notice. But then her attention had wandered. One day her shirt rode up as she sat in the desk, showing a bit of her lower back and her underwear. With the current fashions, it was something Tara was used to seeing, those stripes of bright cotton or shiny florals, an occasional inch of something usually secret. But a bit of the fabric on Chloe�s panties had separated from the elastic, leaving a hole barely the size of a quarter. Such a small area, but captivating. The professor, whom she�d chosen especially because of his famous discussions, faded like a radio commercial in another room. Just an extra bit of skin, a tiny invitation to sin, it was an event.
They had shared notes, read the drafts of each other�s papers, brainstormed essay ideas together, and all the while Tara had told herself not to notice anything from the girl�s attention. They were classmates. Chloe was interested because Tara was doing well, and she was doing well because simply being around Willow had made school somehow easier, had given information hooks to stick in her brain. But then, after the end of the semester, Chloe had stayed interested. And it had resulted in Chloe asking her out, just for lunch and an afternoon in the art museum, but still a date. Hours when she�d been something other than Willow�s.
She checked her watch. She�d done everything she could in fifteen minutes that she thought might make things a bit better for at least the evening. She stared at the ring she�d just put on. While she�d been loading the dishwasher, she found it almost entirely hidden under a layer of dust and a number of little things from game pieces to Mexican coins all in a forgotten jumble on the windowsill. As she twisted the doorknob of the garage door, she remembered slipping it off and leaving it there one hot morning in September. Xander and Anya had taken Dawn to Disneyland, largely because the Six Flags roller coaster parks all seemed to have those seven-foot tall Bugs Bunnies that terrified Anya. The giant mice only made her slightly unnerved. They were due to drop her home that morning - she and Willow had tried to make the most of their time and as they made breakfast, she had disrobed her hands quickly, then backed Willow up against a counter and took advantage of the short hemline of her nightshirt.
Her heartbeat sped up with the memory, the fact that she could still easily recall the feeling of Willow�s thighs trembling, the mingled smells of coffee and arousal, tripping over steel-toed boots... She was startled out of her trip down lesbian-porno memory lane as she nearly fell in a heap on the cold concrete floor. She instantly recognized the cold hands that caught her and pulled her up against his chest. �Hi, Sp-Spike,� she managed to squeak out. �You can let go of me now.�
�You sure? Gravity does not seem to be your friend, lamb.� He relaxed his hold on her, but didn�t let go all the way. �That girl could walk right into the Hellmouth if no one stopped her,� he thought.
Tara tried to calm herself in Spike�s grip, before remembering that that was pretty much impossible. �So were you planning on cutting Buffy�s brakes, or is this just your typical purposeless skulking?� She asked, wondering why it was that she kept finding herself alone with and in close proximity to Spike.
Spike released her with a slight shove, enough to cause her to stumble a little and have to catch herself on a crate. He watched her as she straightened up, digging car keys out of her pocket. She seemed to see him the way the other scooby brats did, as something annoying and around but no real danger. And there was something else in her eyes, the kind of look a class outcast might give the bullies� current choice target. �I could ask you what you were doing here, but that might give you the delusion that I actually cared about your pathetic little fruit fly lives,� he said sardonically.
�I was running errands for Buffy this morning, since she�s been working night shifts,� Tara informed him, more to hear herself say it than to convince him of anything. �The bank, post office, hardware store - she�s been running low on wood for stakes and Xander�s plastering right now so he can�t bring home any from work.� She walked around the back of the car to the driver side door, the keys a comforting metal weight in her hand.
�Why do you do this?� Spike asked, still standing in the corner near the door.
Tara stopped, startled. �What?�
�This whole less-damned-than-thou act. I�m a vampire, therefore I�m just something to do when you�re feeling pathetic, and then when the sun comes up, you�re too good for it again,� Spike said with a touch of a snarl, enjoying the somewhat hurt look on her face.
�Maybe I am. Too g-good. M-Maybe everyone is,� she replied. She let go of the keys and crossed her arms in front of her chest. �I do....I�ve done...things I shouldn�t have. And I regret them. And I try not to let them happen again. You don�t. I know you can be hurt, but you don�t have a conscience.�
�What could you have possibly done? Aside from our, what you might call indiscretions, you don�t strike me as the type who�d even have the bollix to park illegally,� Spike criticized her as he walked over to stand just behind the back of the jeep.
�I don�t strike anyone as much of anything,� she responded. �I don�t usually. Sometimes that helps. It took you half a year and a horrible spell to notice me.� She narrowed her eyes in a combination of uneasiness and trying to see clearly despite only one dim light. �And I looked up what that word means. Maybe it�s just because I don�t play with boys, but I don't get what testicles have to do with parking.�
�It�s just an ex....bloody hell.� Spike grimaced. Every day it became more obvious that none of the scoobs would be able to survive on their wits, or conversation skills, alone. �You humans really hold your grudges.� He switched to a whiny American accent. �You hit me with a microscope. You tried to kill me. You sold us out to some military conspiracy. You spilled blood on my tribble.� He went back to his own ghetto British. �Wankers.�
�Grudges do tend to help us humans from doing the same stupid thing twice...or thrice,� Tara said deferentially.
�So you�re completely past that whole, �I�m part evil demon, behold my silent angst� drama?� Spike questioned.
�Well, it does have its benefits. Like me not having to be afraid of you,� she quipped tartly.
In a matter of milliseconds Spike crossed the distance between them and backed Tara up against the car. In contrast to her comments, her body responded drastically, every hair standing on end even though the rest of her body felt entirely too warm. �You wanted me to able to hurt you. You wanted what they said to be true. It kills you that you�re only human, that that�s all you�ve ever been.� He ran his hand down the side of her cheek, stopping under her chin where he tilted her face up to look at him. �You wanted something that would give your suffering some meaning. That would let you explain away the way they treated you, and still think of yourself as fundamentally different.�
Her eyes blazing, she grabbed her keys out of her skirt pocket trying to remember how they were supposed to be used a weapon. She supposed that she could drop them and while he was bending down to pick them up she could try to kick him, but she doubted that he�d bother to retrieve them for her. She knew he couldn�t hit her or bite her, but he was perfectly capable of trapping her in this small space for as long as he wanted. His words had hit something unexpectedly painful and resonating, leaving her only wanting to escape. She�d done enough crying in front of vampires for several lifetimes. She took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the fact that it simply brought her chest in contact with his, and staring at his chin, said meekly, �I really need to be going now. Buffy�s at work, but I could drop you off somewhere else, if you don�t want to have to go out under some old tarp.�
Spike looked down at her, then decided against his first considered reply and nodded businesslike, �Fair enough. I could use a lift over to Willie�s.�
�Okay then,� she replied. She turned to open the door and realized that Spike had yet to move. She felt him lean against her, all hard muscle and rough fabrics. The shirt on her back suddenly felt thinner than tissue paper, as if he were only a breath away from her skin. She opened the door with a quick jerk that made him jump back a bit, and by the time she�d climbed into the driver�s seat, he was well ensconced in the passenger seat next to her.
As he watched her settle herself, he took a moment to look her over thoroughly. Unlike her usual style of deluded gypsy, her current clothing choices were much more flattering. Her a-line skirt emphasized her small waist and round hips while her close-fitting vee-necked blouse neatly showed a figure other women might wear wonder-bras to obtain. The dark red silk of her sleeve was cold between his fingers as he ran his hand up her arm.
�Spike, d-don�t. This is turning into some b-bad habit. I can write off the first time as just a fluke, maybe just experimentation. And the second time...I wasn�t drunk, but I was drinking, we both were drinking. But there�s no excuse for this. Spike, no!� she gasped as he started to slip his hand up her sleeve.
�No doesn�t seem to mean no with you. You keep it saying it, but all it seems to mean is that you want me to convince you a bit more,� he said in a strange mixture of sarcasm and seduction as he concentrated on her right hand. He stroked the back of her hand with his fingers until she relaxed her grip on the armrest.
She turned to face him, the anger replaced by something that wavered between self-pity and apprehension. �What? Is this supposed to be some s-sex for insights exchange to keep the two of us sane while the people we love self-destruct? Or is this your way of trying to hurt Willow and Buffy with the one talent you still have?�
�This wasn�t supposed to happen in the first place. I was just planning on getting to see what you looked like all mad and disgusted. Didn�t think you�d take me on," Spike replied evenly.
�So this is my fault? I raised the stakes on your bluff and you were forced to keep the game going?� she asked incredulously.
�Oh good, we�re on poker analogies now. This sport I know. And yes, I was fucking bluffing. Maybe I just wanted to see what you had,� he said lazily running a finger down the exposed part of her chest.
�Maybe you�d better find something to hide under, Spike,� she said coldly as she picked up the garage door opener.
�Seems I�m just hitting nerve after nerve today. Look, Willow�s got her dark magic, Xander�s got his marriage fear, Dawn�s got her stealing, Buffy�s got pretty much everything she does these days...and it just turns out that your method of self-destruction is one of the fun ones,� Spike spoke with his common tone of cynical edification. As he talked he moved his finger up and slid it back and forth across her collarbones and up and down her neck.
His touch echoed the way Chloe had dreamily brushed her fingertips along her neck and shoulders while they stared at the Liechtenstein prints earlier that afternoon. She gripped the steering wheel and gritted her teeth. �Just shut up, Spike.�
�You fucked a vampire. It�s not like you committed genocide or molested a girl scout,� Spike said matter-of-factly. He settled back into his seat. �Hell, it�s getting to be like a rite of passage around here. No one was killed, no apocalypses triggered, nobody even lost a soul.�
�But Willow...� Tara breathed.
�So now you want your amok-running witch back. And you think she�s going to be absolutely crushed to find out you had a little fun on your own? I�ve seen how she�s been. I saw how she was after her were-boy chased after something furry. I sincerely doubt she�d stop loving you just because you had yourself a taste of the big bad,� he elucidated, trying to find a position to look unearthly wise and evil in a jeep.
Tara couldn�t help laughing at his last remark. �I�m sorry, it�s just �taste of the big bad� - it sounds like a case of food poisoning.�
�Don�t-� Spike began.
�I said I was sorry,� Tara replied.
Spike took her chin in his hand and pressed his thumb against her lips. �Don�t apologize for laughing. As if you didn�t have the right to make your own responses. Go ahead and laugh. Makes your eyes bright. Makes your chest shake,� he let his voice fall husky and enjoyed the blush the pinked her cheeks visible to his undead eyes even in the low light of the room. He took advantage of the moment of stillness and let his hand drift back along her jaw until his fingers were slipping through her hair, cupping the back of her head. Before she could even think of protesting his lips were against hers. Her mouth opened easily and her tongue responded ardently to his.
He leaned her towards him and transferred his attentions to her ear to allow her some time for all that necessary breathing and gasping. He inhaled deeply taking in all of her scents, and a new one. �So you�ve found yourself a new partner in crime already?� he asked, amused and a bit surprised.
Tara shrunk back with a look of guilt and apprehension. �I c-c-can�t....not now....it�s t-too much. There�s so much,� she whispered anguished.
�You�re only being human, luv, nothing to damn yourself over,� he admonished her. He moved his lips over the paths of the tears on her face, thinking that maybe it might be nice to try something other than women who all seemed to have to go through every emotion in their repertoire every hour. At least he knew of one diversion that seemed to stop the tears in this one. He kissed her again, sucking on her quivering lower lip as his hands ventured downward to unbutton her blouse.
She responded by putting her hands on his legs and stroking his thighs through the denim. Hearing him moan, she slid her hands upward and under his shirt, raking her blunt fingernails along the cool skin of his chest, paying special attention to his nipples. He ducked his head forward to enable her to pull his shirt off. She held the cotton up to her face and inhaled the odors of smoke and dirt and that strange sharp smell she associated only with Spike before tossing it to the floor.
Spike could have sworn there was something at least distantly related to a smile on her face when she climbed over to sit in his lap. She had her knickers off and lying on the next seat much more quickly than he would have expected from a girl who frequently couldn�t manage consonants on the first try. His hands began the voyage up under her skirt, but were distracted when she placed them on her chest as she straddled his thighs. He felt Tara unzipping his jeans and wrapping her hot hands around his cock. She squeezed him lightly as her hands moved up and down. He leaned the seat back as far as it would go and relaxed into her touch. He opened the clasp of her front-hook bra and stroked her breasts drawing spidery patterns on her skin with his fingers.
When her breathing became raspy he transferred attention to her nipples, pinching and tugging as her grip on him tightened. His strong fingers increased their in their savagery with the volume of her moans until he felt the faint tingles that warned that the chip might kick in. When he slid his hands down to her waist, she stopped pumping him and moved up on his lap until she�d positioned herself right above his erect cock. He ran his fingers along her cleft, only feeling the slightest beginnings of moisture. �This will be a lot more fun for both of us if...� he began as he started to slip a finger between her outer lips.
Tara silenced him with a savage kiss, scraping her teeth over his tongue, squeezing his lip hard between hers. She broke the kiss to say breathily, �The first time I got fisted I bled. I came so hard. Hurt so hard. There was so much...I screamed and I bled.� She punctuated her phrases with sharp nips along the side of his face to his neck.
The tiny assaults made his groin throb. When she nicked the skin just above a vein on his neck, he growled and clutched her hips so tightly his head buzzed with electric impulses and surges of every sort of hunger he knew. He struggled for some sort of control, over himself, over the situation. �Don�t think you -� Spike was cut off.
�You can�t hurt me,� Tara whispered huskily in his ear. �But I think I need you to,� she added as she lowered herself down on him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in the side of his neck. Though he had no heartbeat that she could feel through his chest pressed up against hers, she felt the muscles and tendons in his neck and shoulders tightening every time she moved downward or clenched her inner muscles on him.
Spike could never get used to the intensity of sex with the living, though he did wish that he�d have many future opportunities in which to do so. There was so much concentrated heat and moisture that it was nearly as primevally enjoyable as the feel of the first rush of hot blood from a still-fighting human gushing through his mouth. And aside from his dick, a world he could barely remember existing, there were the sounds of frenzied panting, a heart beating like running footsteps, and the hot sweat that ran down her chest and dampened his own. Seeing the expressions of pain and yearning on her face he took her hips in his hands and moved her, trying to change the angle to put some friction on a certain place. The new position resulted in her taking him in even deeper, and as he felt her muscles constrict around him, he knew that despite his decades of experience he wouldn�t last much longer. He slipped one hand away from her hip headed for her clit, but before he reached his important destination Tara grabbed the hand and pulled it up to her face. He ran a finger over her full lips before she took his fingers into her mouth. She raised herself up until just the tip of his cock remained inside her, then fell back down and bit his fingers. At the double sensation of her hot wet cunt and hot hard teeth Spike came feeling that everything in his body was spurting out of him.
Feeling him soften within her, Tara gingerly crawled over to the driver seat and felt around with her feet for her shoes, staring at the steering wheel to avoid Spike�s gaze. Every sensitive part of her body felt sore, as if she�d been scoured clean. She winced at the tenderness of her nipples as she pulled the cups of her bra over them. As she hooked it, she felt Spike put his hand over hers.
�Leaving already, lamb?� he asked as he moved her hands down to her lap. Reaching beyond her he found the lever and lowered the seat down and as far backwards as it would go. He climbed into the well and knelt leaning forward with his elbows resting on either side of her legs. Thanks to his compact size, he was perfectly comfortable in the small space between the half-naked witch and the dashboard. Before she could try anything crazy like leaving the car, he braced her legs just hard enough to keep her from moving without doing anything to trigger the chip. He smiled at her wolfishly, and enjoyed the fact after all that had happened, his touch could still make her shiver. �So we�ve been playing it the way you want, now we�re going by my rules.�
Her heartbeat felt like a constant avalanche in her chest. She gulped air and tried to focus on everything else, the jeep that was entirely unnecessary for a family that rarely got closer to the wilderness than the trees in the cemetery, the panties had apparently slipped into some other dimension, how soon Chloe would probably find someone else if she went back to Willow, everything but the fact that there were cool hands spreading her legs apart, that a blond head was following the progress of her skirt as it rid up her thighs. His breath was cold on her cunt, freezing her up her spine from her tailbone to top of her skull. �Spike, I have to g-go. I�ll be late,� she made a token protest.
Spike pulled himself up to her eye level. �There�ll be no talking, young miss, unless you�re screaming my name.� He quickly retrieved his shirt from the floor and twisted it into a short rope. �Hands up, witch.� She complied without another word, and he placed her hands just behind the headrest. He quickly bound her wrists together, just tightly enough to keep her from being able to do more than twist them. He descended slowly down her body, his mouth and fingertips taking a leisurely tour down to her waist. He felt the muscles in her flanks and stomach strain at his touch, showing that she was at that lovely stage when prey were caught between terror and desire.
He returned to his kneeling position to find that she�d parted her legs even farther. He dipped his head and took in the mingled inviting scents of sweat and feminine secretions, along with smell of his own emission and something sharp and feverish. His thumbs caressed the sensitive skin where her legs met her groin as he ran his tongue along her outer lips in slow laps, opening her up to his ministrations. He heard her whimper softly as he took her clit in his lips. Her volume increased significantly when he applied his tongue, upping the pleasurable tension with each fluttery motion. He licked downward and entered her with his tongue. He imbibed her moisture, tasting again traces of blood inside her. His face changed with the realization, and as instinct took over, he plunged his tongue in deeper and began to suck.
Tara looked down when she felt Spike�s face suddenly get larger and harder. The ridges pressed against her, radiating startling bursts of sensation throughout her body. Her whimpers turned to yelps as she bucked against his face. She was tied up and there was a monster devouring her, it was the stuff nightmares were made of but it only intensified the throb of everything inside her. As she squirmed she could feel the fangs that he was trying to keep from harming her. She writhed and rocked her hips upward, taking him by surprise and gasped and came as they pierced the skin of her outer lips. He growled, sending a thrilling vibration up through her. The pain was intense, but it only seemed to accentuate her orgasm, like black velvet under diamonds. She recalled that he�d told her about the magic of vampire saliva when he pulled back to lick the two tiny puncture wounds. She wanted to squeeze her legs together, lock his head down there until he�d drained her of blood and longing and uncertainty, until she was simply a limp mass of satisfied. But as the pleasure ebbed, she saw simply a creature caught between the monster and the man who was just throwing himself in whatever direction seemed the most inviting at the time.
When the cuts had closed, Spike�s face slowly fell back into the human fashion he usually wore and crawled over to the passenger seat so she could put her legs down and let the circulation return. As he reached over to untie her hands, he saw that she looked incredibly calm for someone who�d just committed at least three of the more fun mortal sins. He pulled the shirt on, noticing that she was neither mesmerized by his abs, nor about to cry. Before he could ask about her bizarre state of mind she startled him by picking up the garage door opener in between attempts to button and slightly de-wrinkle her blouse.
Tara glanced over to the side door, and saw that the bit of sunlight that usually crept under it was long gone. �Spike, it�s after sunset. I don�t care where you go or what you do, but you have to get out of this car.� She was a bit shocked by how forceful and determined she was managing to sound, and continued, �This was fun and traumatic while it lasted, but I�m ending it now. This isn�t just a good-bye for now, let�s have sex the next time we�re alone together if there�s nothing good on tv kind of thing. Thanks for the creepy sympathy these past few weeks, really, but don�t ever try anything like this again or you�ll wish you were dust. Okay?� she asked, oddly brightly as she clicked the button.
Spike stared at her for an eternal minute, then stepped out of the jeep with as much dignity as a mostly gay wiccan�s former undead fuckbuddy could be expected to manage. He was just about to begin a series of witty cutting remarks when she started the engine and rolled down the windows. Every time a woman ended it with him she managed to find a new way of ejecting him from her life. Tara�s odd purposeful cheerfulness cut off any dramatic response, leaving him just staring at her, processing the rapid turnaround in her emotional state.
She smiled that odd little half-smile she was prone to and said, �And if it makes you feel any better, you can think that it is because of that time you hit my nose,� before she pulled out into the driveway, and drove home to change clothes and shower off the smell of Spike sex before she met up with Buffy.
She relaxed in that way unique to those who'd faced their demons and fucked their brains out. Along the way she let happy images of Willow and Chloe click through her brain like a slideshow, or poker chips between her fingers, and figured that she could put off all other momentous decisions for the next day.
The End
On the titles: The titles to parts 2 and 3 come from the Pretenders song "From the Heart Down" which was a great push in finding where to start the second part, and how to finish the third. However while writing it I worked on a musical diet of Depeche Mode and Violent Femmes for Spike, and Nirvana Unplugged and Diana Krall for Tara, so it really doesn't matter if you haven't heard or hate the song.
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