Part 5 – Drive Thru
Author: Saber ShadowKitten
Disclaimer:
I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.
Spike's
head was going to explode. Kerplow. Grey matter everywhere. He shut the book
with a loud thwack and tossed it onto the Giles's coffee table. He didn't even
know why he was helping out to begin with.
"Spike,
have you ever heard of the Box of Ramrona?" Willow asked from her place in
front of her laptop.
"Yeah,
it's some sort of Pandora's Box for the Sylvan," Spike replied. "They
store all their mistakes in it, which is a bloody stupid idea, if you ask
me."
"Thanks,"
Willow said, giving him a small smile. "You're better than the Occult
Dictionary."
Well,
maybe he did know. Smiling inwardly at the fact that at least someone realized
that he wasn't just all good looks, he stood and patted his breast pocket for
his cigarettes. He still needed to take a break before his brain liquified and
ran out his nose.
However,
he didn't want to just leave. Not that he really cared if they thought him
rude. It was more along the lines that he wanted to keep earning Brownie Points
from the Slayer, because the more he earned, the more quickly she'd hike up her
skirts for him. And there was nothing sweeter on the earth than the feel of her
hot quim.
Great,
now he was horny and brain-dead. He wished Buffy would get back already so he
could give her a quick seeing to out behind Giles's place. There was lovely
hedge that blocked the sight of them shagging back there, he knew that from
experience.
Sighing,
Spike decided he might as well be, yuck, nice and do a 'food run' for the
Slayer's chums. He was in the mood for some french fries smothered in ketchup
anyway. Grabbing the pad of paper and pen he'd been using to aid with the
research, he cleared his throat to get the others' attention.
"I'm
hungry and feelin' charitable, so who wants what from the drive-thru?"
Spike said.
"Ooh,
can I have a chocolate milkshake?" Willow said.
"Number
five, Coke," Xander said, raising his hand, though his eyes never left the
book he was looking at.
"Giles?"
Spike prompted.
"What?
Oh...ah, fries, if you please," Giles said. "I do believe I have
vinegar here."
"Got
it," Spike said, jotting down the orders. The things he did for a piece of
tail. "Well, I'm off. Try not to have too much fun without me."
Spike
grabbed his duster on his way out of the ex-Watcher's home and slid the
familiar leather over his arms. His newly stolen motor was parked next to the
dilapidated Citroen, some moron having left the keys in the ignition. A new
paint job and out of state plates insured that it would be a long time, if
ever, that the owner got it back.
The
trip to the drive-thru itself was uneventful. He smoked, listened to some good
shit on the radio, and further flattened an already-dead cat. The head made a
great sound when he ran over it, making him smile.
He
turned into the lot and pulled up behind a long line of cars going through the
drive-thru. He wasn't in a hurry, so he didn't care about the wait. It amused
him to realize that, at times, it took longer for people to go through the
drive-thru than it did to go inside and carry their supper out.
The
passenger door suddenly opened and a tiny blond jumped into his motor.
"Hi," Buffy greeted breathlessly, slamming the door shut behind her
and ducking down low in the seat.
"Hello,
pet," Spike said, glancing out the passenger window. He saw six, burly
linebacker-types come out from around the next building over. "Friends of
yours?"
"I
forgot I was suppose to be a girl and I sort of knocked one of their buddies
out," she replied sheepishly. "And they're all just plain ol' drunk
football players, too, so I figured I'd better just run away before I got the
lecture from Giles."
"Well,
they're gone now, luv," he told her. The car in front of him moved
forward, and he lifted his foot of the brake to move forward, too.
"Good,"
Buffy said, straightening in her seat. She double-checked out the side window,
then turned to lean back against the passenger door, tucking one booted foot
under her other knee. "So, what're you doing at the drive-thru?"
"I'm
knicking the Mona Lisa, what do you think I'm doing?" Spike replied.
Buffy
rolled her eyes. "I meant what are you doing here, and not
Xander? He's our resident go for munchies guy."
"I
was feelin' hospitable."
"You?"
Buffy started to laugh.
"Shut
up," Spike told her.
"Make
me," Buffy said between her laughs.
Spike
arched his brow as he looked at her, and grinned. "Okay," he said.
Then he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. He closed his eyes
against the pain in his head, but her muffled curses at him from her face now
being in his lap made it bearable.
"Say,
while you're down there, luv, be a dear and give us a blow," Spike said
casually.
Buffy
turned her head and glared up at his leering face. She was about to rip his
cock off and shove it in his mouth as she told him to give his own damn self a
blow when an idea hit her. Plus, she was kind of horny anyway and was going to
suggest they stop somewhere on the way back to Giles's for a quickie.
"Oh
fine," she said dramatically, then giggled when Spike's face reflected
surprise. She repositioned herself across the seat and used his thighs as props
in order to free the sudden bulge beneath the denim of his jeans. She glanced
up again to see him watching her with hunger in his eyes. "Watch the road,
dear."
Spike
raised his eyes from her delectable face near his crotch and saw that the car
in front of him had moved forward again. He let his foot off the brake and had
to abruptly slam it in order not to rear-end the motor ahead of him as Buffy
took his cock into her warm, wet mouth.
"Oh
hell, Slayer," he groaned softly, clenching and unclenching the steering
wheel with one hand as her tongue swirled over the sensitive head of his shaft.
His other hand brushed repeatedly over the back of her blond hair, and he
groaned again when she sucked down on him.
The
car ahead moved forward, he moved forward, then he dropped his eyes for a
moment to see her bobbing over his lap. It was an unbelievably carnal sight,
and his foot accidentally slipped off the brake. His foot jerked down and his
eyes jerked up, fearing an accident that would end this wonderful blow, but the
motor in front of him had moved forward again.
The
ordering screen was now two car-lengths away. He fumbled for the scrap of paper
with the orders he'd scribbled on it. He almost dropped it twice as her teeth
scraped along the underside of his cock. The other car moved forward and now he
was next.
"Slayer,"
Spike hissed, pushing the button for the automatic window. "I have to
order."
"So
order," Buffy replied, rubbing the tip of her tongue over the small slit
on the head of his cock. She looked up at him. "I want a Diet Coke,
please."
"You
need to fucking eat more than that, pet," he said, looking down at her.
She
gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, I plan to."
The
car ahead of him moved forward, he moved forward, she sucked down hard on his
cock until her nose was buried in the denim of his jeans. Spike let out a
strangled cry of pleasure.
"Hi,
welcome to McRonald's, can I interest you in one of our value meals?" the
speaker chirped at the vampire.
Spike
pried his jaw apart so he could speak. "Er, yeah, I want a number
fi-eeeve," he squealed, as Buffy nipped him. He cleared his throat.
"With a Coke. A medium Diet Coke. A, uh..."
He
tried to focus on the paper in his hand, but the pressure was building in his
balls at an unbelievable rate. Buffy's mouth slid over him with unrelenting
cruelness. He knew nothing short of him yanking her off his prick was going to
make her stop.
"Two
large fries," he said quickly between clenched teeth. "And a chohhhhh
damn you." His hips bucked up into her mouth as white-heat streaked up his
cock. The paper in his hand crackled as he crushed it, a deep growl rumbling in
the car as he orgasmed.
"I
got a number five with a Coke, a medium Diet, two large fries and a chocolate
shake. That'll be ten-ninety-three, first window please," the speaker
chirped.
Buffy
tucked Spike back away in his jeans, then sat up, sliding back over to her own
side of the car. She rubbed her stomach. "Yummy."
Spike
blinked several times to clear his vision, then took his foot off the brake.
Without a word, he stopped at the first window, handed over his money, got his
seven cents change, then pulled up to the second window.
"You
do realize I'm going to get you back, luv," he finally said. He accepted
the bag of food and passed it to the grinning Slayer.
"I
know," she said. She took the cardboard drink holder and carefully set it
on the floor by her feet, next to where she put the food bag. Then, as Spike
was pulling away from the drive-thru window, she laid back down again with her
cheek resting on his thigh. She sighed. "Guess I'll just have to
deal."
Spike
glanced at her as he got the car underway. The streetlights cast flickering
shadows across her cheek and jawline. He couldn't stop his right hand from
dropping to her head and brushing his fingers over her hair. She sighed again,
snuggling down on his thigh.
"Wake
me when we get there," Buffy said, marveling over the fact that the hard
muscle beneath the denim was so comfortable. She let her eyes drift shut and
relaxed to Spike's fingers stroking her hair.
And
at the same time they both thought, **I could get used to this.**
The End