§ PROFILE   § LIBRARY   § PARTNERS   § RESEARCH   § MISCELLANIA   § HOME [cover art by Laura Shapiro] Looking at You by Lu RATING: NC-17 PAIRING: Lindsey/Spike SUMMARY: Lindsey goes to Sunnydale in search of Darla and meets up with a different blond vampire. SPOILERS: Up to the end season 5 of Buffy and season 2 of Angel FEEDBACK: lousli@yahoo.com DISCLAIMER: Never have owned 'em, never will. Sigh. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: My thanks to Ace, Kim, and Jesse. My love and appreciation to Justin and Laura. ----- When she left, all I wanted was to follow her. I mean, I knew it wouldn't matter, wouldn't make any difference at all. Even if I could talk to her. She didn't want to be in LA, didn't want to be near him. She wasn't thinking of me. Drusilla had gone to Sunnydale, to spy on her ex. Or try to get him back or something. Not sure who would want to date Drusilla in the first place. Crazy vampire bitch. Maybe Darla had gone there too. To pick up Drusilla before disappearing into the night again? Yeah, not much of a lead, I know, but it was all I had. It was stupid for me to go there. I didn't even know where to start. Its not like vampires are walking around in broad daylight wearing buttons that say, 'Ask me about Darla.' And after the third day in my ratty hotel room (can't put stuff on the company account now) I was starting to get pretty damn bored. And I needed something to drink. I had consumed the entire contents of the mini refrigerator, and didn't even have the beginning of an idea where a decent bar was in this town, so I just went out walking around. I came across a place that looked like a college hangout. Lots of loud music (which wasn't very good), dancing, drinking. It looked like a vampire buffet to me, but there didn't seem to be any of them hanging around. I know when we hooked up with Faith, she had told us about the Slayer. The other one I mean. And it sure as hell looked like she was doing a good job. No vamps, not even in the alley outside. I left the club after two drinks, when I felt like possibly the oldest person that had ever been inside. What kind of stupid name is ' The Bronze' anyway? The bronze what? I wandered back towards my hotel, thinking about her. Of course, I got lost, because hey, could this night get any worse? I came across another bar; this one was a little on the dingy side. But I figured, at least I could maybe get some directions. I walked inside and it was pretty packed. It smelled a little rank, but I wasn't there for the ambiance. I stood near the door, looking for the bartender. And then something hit me. It was weird in there. There was something distinctly *not right* about the atmosphere in this place. Apart from the smell. Oh fuck. Vampires. And demons. Of course, I should know better than to think, even in jest, 'can it get any worse' because it will, ten times over. But as I looked around I noticed the humans scattered throughout the crowd. Some looked a little on edge, as if they weren't comfortable there, but they were still hanging out. Some looked unfazed, used to it. Maybe it's like Caritas. Anyway, no one has tried to kill me yet, I reasoned, and I headed for the nearest barstool. At one end of the bar, there was someone who looked human. A little bit punk rock, with bleached hair and dressed in leather, but far more acceptable than the slimy bluish creature sitting about six seats down. I looked him over again, just to be on the safe side before I sat down. No, not vamp, he didn't have the look. I can usually spot them. It took me a while to get used to seeing beyond their human face, but usually now I can. They have this predatory look, like they're thinking about jumping you at any minute, and just sucking you dry. Angel doesn't look like that, but then, he's kind of a freak in the vampire world. Which is saying something if you think about it for a minute. Darla didn't look at me that way either, but I think she's been practicing that innocent look for centuries. She lied to me about everything else, why not about wanting to eat me for dinner? I still didn't know why I was here. What would I even say to her if I found her? It's not like I could have gone back to LA anyway, not after the whole 'evil hand' incident. I grinned inwardly, despite my bad mood. Evil hand. That was great. One of the best moments of my life, really. Just *walking away* from Wolfram & Hart. And knowing that they weren't going to come after me. I still needed another drink, so I motioned the bartender over and ordered a beer, not trusting the quality of the harder liquor in a sleaze-bag place like this. He brought it, and at least it was cold. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the blond punk had lit a cigarette, and my palms started itching. I gave up smoking after defending a big tobacco corporation in a lawsuit a couple of years ago. The pictures of black lungs and the litigant's emphysema were enough to give me nightmares. But I still ached to feel the burning smoke filling my mouth and lungs with its insistent nicotine rush. It was hard to keep from caving in, especially when I was drinking. "Hey. Could I have one of those?" The guy looked up at me, and I swear I could feel my stomach jumping into the back of my throat. He had intensely blue eyes and chiseled features, the kind of cheekbones you could shave with. Very hot. He said nothing as he handed the pack out to me, just looked me over, then away again. I took the offered cigarette and mumbled, "Thanks," but he didn't look at me again, just stared into his drink. I realized suddenly that I had neither lighter nor matches, so I sat for a moment, flipping the cigarette back and forth between my fingers, fiddling with it. He must have noticed, because he looked up again, and said, "You need a light?" I nodded wordlessly. His voice was smooth, but had this rough edge to it. And he had an English accent. A low class sort of Sex Pistols English accent. My mouth went dry as I thought about the way he would talk if I was fucking him. I could feel my cock start to harden at the thought. He was near enough to me to be in my personal space now, and his eyes never left mine. He leaned in to light my cigarette. I wanted to keep his attention, so I asked, "Can I buy you a drink?" "Bourbon." "I'll have one too." I told the bartender. "You're not from here." It was not a question, but I answered it anyway. "No. I'm from LA. Well, recently that is." "Why are you here?" "I'm looking for someone. A friend of mine." // I didn't say a woman. A *vampire*. // "You think she's here?" He raised his eyebrow and tilted his head to one side. "I don't know. I don't know where else to look. She had a friend here once..." It sounded lame, even to me. "What are you going to say to her when you find her?" He looked at me searchingly. He wasn't mocking me, but it was evident he sympathized with me, it was written on his face. He looked like he was going through some pretty messed up shit right now too. And yet, I was so shocked at his words that my mouth just fell open. It was as if he had gotten inside me in just a few minutes, and discovered my thoughts. My fears. I shook my head and stammered, "I'm going to...I don't know." "Yeah. I know how it is. You want to know what's really pathetic? Mine, she's right here in good old Sunnyhell. Probably about four blocks from here. I know where she is, and I still don't know what to say to her." He downed the bourbon and looked into the now empty glass. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't sound trite, so I just nodded, and ordered him another drink. We sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking, and he handed the cigarettes back to me. I took one and as he lit it, he brushed his hand against mine. I would have thought it was an accident, but he looked at me with a sort of hopeful expression. It could have been a drunken, glazed-over expression, but it looked hopeful to me. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've pity-fucked more than one acquaintance and this one was pretty enough that I didn't even take the time to think about it. He wanted it, I was there. I grabbed for the hand that had grazed mine, and I pulled it into my lap. Not quite up against my cock, but close enough. I met his eyes with a challenge and an unmistakable invitation, and he accepted. He got up silently, and threw some money on the bar. He looked over his shoulder to see that I was behind him, and walked out the door. As soon as we were outside, he shoved me against the wall and ground his mouth into mine. I don't generally like to be swallowed whole, but there was an insistence in his kiss. He tasted every part of my mouth, never stopping for air. His hand was clenching a fist in my hair, pulling me so tight I had to struggle away to breathe. I looked at him; his pupils had gone so wide that his eyes were indigo, his pouting mouth was begging for more. I leaned in, and trying to slow it down a little, ran my tongue teasingly across his lower lip before I pressed in a little deeper. He tasted, unsurprisingly, of bourbon and cigarettes, but also a little bit like a good Bordeaux that hasn't had time to breathe. What was that word? Tannic. I could not resist running my thumb across his sculpted cheekbone as I explored his mouth. I moved my hand down toward his throat, that soft pulse spot below the ear that makes me gasp whenever someone touches it. The spot I used to dream that Darla would sink her teeth into and then would wake up in a cold sweat, shaking. And hard. He reached out and caught my hand so quickly that I froze. //I must be pretty fucking drunk if his reflexes seem that sharp to me. // "Not here," he hissed in that same pretty punk accent, "It isn't safe." "I have a place we can go," I offered. "It's close." //And God, I'm glad it's close. // I swallowed hard as I let my eyes wander down his lean, muscled frame. I could imagine the hot sweet slick of his cock in my fist, and felt a surge of heat to my own in response. I hoped I could find the hotel without too much trouble, and fortunately, it was easier than I expected. As I traced my way back, I noticed little landmarks that I had seen on the way there. It took way too long to walk the six blocks, fighting with my hard-on the entire time and trying to get a better look at what was hidden underneath that long leather coat of his. I led the way into the building, then stepped into the elevator with him right by my side. When the doors slid shut, he was on me again, pressing against me hard. I ran my hands up and down his arms, and kissed down from his mouth to his jaw. He tilted his head back and let out a low moan that was almost a growl. My cock was so stiff it ached. The doors opened, and we staggered out into the hall. I fumbled with the key for a minute before I was able to get the door open, but he pulled me against the doorjamb, kissing me, thrusting against me. "Oh, fuck." "Do you want it?" he muttered, nuzzling into my neck. "Oh yeah. Yeah, I want it." His mouth was brushing softly against that sweet spot as he whispered. He must have felt the way I moved up into his mouth and realized what he had done to me. Or maybe he thought it was the talking, because he kept on, though it was getting more and more difficult for me to make intelligent replies. "You going to let me suck you, baby? Is that what you want?" He asked me. "Not if I...mmm...get you first." He laughed low and licked a little at my neck. "Can I come in there and get those clothes off of you?" He sucked in, and I could feel the blood pounding just under the skin. "Yeah, get in here." I mumbled, grabbing at his jacket and pulling him into the room, almost on top of me. I wasted no time in getting us to the bed, sinking down on it as I began to peel off his layers off clothing. He explored my mouth, ran his hands over my arms, down my back. He reached under my shirt, petting the small of my back, dipping sometimes into the waistband of my jeans. His hands were slender, cool against my heated flesh. I got his shirt off, and stroked his smooth chest, feeling the nipples tightening under my hands. And I had been right about his body, fucking flawless. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, rolling the other between my fingers, and felt his hardness pressing up into my belly. I wanted to taste him. I pulled my own tee over my head, then worked open his button fly jeans, yanking a little in my impatience. He touched my face, almost stroking me as I eased the pants over his hips. He pushed his cold fingertips into my mouth a little, and I sucked at them greedily. When I took his index and middle finger deep into my throat and then pulled back, scraping with my teeth, he made that growling noise again. I wanted to draw it out a little, make him want it. I wanted to hear him pleading those little inarticulate fuck noises, and I wanted to hear that almost-scream as I thrust my cock deep inside him. God. So fucking hot. He was spread out for me on the bed, and I just wanted to dive in. I licked at his thighs, coaxing him to open them wider for me. I reached up with one hand to twist his nipple, and at the same time, pinched softly inside his thigh. "Does it hurt?" "Just enough." I cupped his balls, stroking slow. They were pulled up against him, but not tight. Not yet. I bent closer and licked softly, drawing a path up the inside of each leg. I licked his balls, pressing the flat of my hand against his dripping cock. I moved my hand, but just slightly, not curving my fingers around, not giving him enough friction. He thrust against me. I pressed my mouth lower, to the spot just above his asshole, waiting a little to see what his reaction would be. Some guys love it, beg for it. I hoped he would be one of those. "Oh, yeah." He opened his legs wider. Nice. I worked my mouth down, licking at him until he was arching off the bed, moaning. Then I pressed my tongue in, and at the same time, wrapped my hand around his cock. He growled again, it vibrated through his body. I was practically dry-fucking the mattress as I worked my hand around him. I wanted to taste his cock, so I slid my hand off of him and swiftly replaced it with my mouth. He groaned sex words from up above. "Oh fuck, just like that..." I ran my tongue along the head of his cock, tasting the salt at the tip, sucking him in further. I set up a rhythm with my mouth, which he matched. But when he tried to make it faster, I slowed down. No way I was going to let him come until I was inside him. I slid a finger into his spit-wet hole, crooking it forward just a little. I pushed in and out to match the tempo of my mouth and was rewarded with a strangled moan from up above, and he was no longer making words now, just sounds. His hands were clutching at my shoulders. I looked up at him, and his eyes glinted strangely in the light, almost yellow. It was time. I couldn't wait anymore to feel that slick tightness around me. I fumbled in the pocket of my jeans, finding the foil packet. Then I tugged until I got the pants off, in a tangled heap, onto the floor. My hand was around him again, stroking. I sought his eyes for permission, and found it there, along with desire. Squeezing his cock, I slicked my hand with his wetness, and added my saliva. I wet myself as much as possible before I pressed the head of my cock to his opening. Holding his knees propped up over my arms for leverage, I thrust in. He pressed back, groaning, "Do it hard." He didn't have to ask me twice, I had waited long enough. I let one of his legs go so that I could feel the heavy slickness of his cock in my hand again, and I pumped in time with our fucking. His eyes were closed and his head was shoved back against the pillow, showing his pale throat to me. I thought about the salt sweat taste I would find there, if I kissed him now. //So...good. So *tight*. // I felt myself getting close, my balls pulling up against me, my muscles straining. It was dark behind my closed eyes, then white suddenly, as my body tensed all over and I came. I lost my rhythm, fucking erratically but hard, pulling his body against me. As if he were waiting for me, moments later he cried out, bucking hard into my hand before I'd even gone soft inside him. I opened my eyes to watch, to see his pretty face twist into that pleasure-pain grimace. I felt him coming into my hand and his face...shifted. Just a few flickering moments, but long enough for me to see. For a second, I was frozen. Terrified, I could feel the bile rising in my throat and I had an instinct to run for my life. But I could only manage to back away, still watching him. Then the anger came. This vampire, this *fucking* vampire... was sucking on my neck, got me to invite him in. He must have thought I was one stupid trick, find 'em, fuck 'em, and eat 'em. // Not me asshole. I'm not your goddam dinner! // Acting quickly, I shoved him against the wall. He was surprisingly small, light, and I could hear him connect with an audible thud. I really laid into him, pounding him. "Son of a bitch! You're a vampire!" I swung with both fists, seeing flashes. Red, white hot. Red again. And Angel was there, could have been there, in front of me. //He fucked her. He *fucked* her. // Heard something crunch, sound of something giving way and felt the blood on my hand. I didn't care. It felt good to be hitting him. All the rage that I felt for Angel was pouring into my frenzied blows. He didn't love her, he just fucking used her. I thought about them together. It made me sick with jealousy. I saw Darla up against that wall. //Bitch. How could you do this to me? // I hardly breathed. I wouldn't have stopped except for that gasping snide remark, "Christ, just like Angelus. First he buggers you, then he hits you." I froze. "What did you say?" I felt the blood drain from my face. The anger began to recede and the nausea returned. He was startled at the effect his words had on me, staring openly at my face, looking for the expression that would break it wide open. He casually wiped his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand as he watched me. The corner of his mouth turned up in a cold smirk as he read the answer in my eyes. "So. You know Angelus then, do you?" There was no need for me to answer; I couldn't look at him. I heard the triumph in his voice as he continued, "Yeah. Angelus always did have a taste for the pretty ones." "Stop it," I whispered. Out of all the vampires in this hellhole, I found a vampire that knows Angel. Hell, a vampire that fucks Angel. Fucked Angelus. Knew *Angelus*. //Darla. He knows Darla. // "I...You know somebody." "Who might that be?" "Darla. You know her." I didn't need to ask, I knew. "It sounds as though we have many friends in common," he sneered. The pleasant buzz had worn off and my head was hurting. I didn't understand. How did he know them? Why hadn't he killed me? "Who the hell are you?" "Spike. You heard of me, too?" My brain ran like a rat on a wheel. Spinning, trying to process. I reached back, trying to remember. How did I know his name? Drusilla. What had she said? Something about Spike...she called him 'poor Spike'. Why? "You know Drusilla too." He laughed outright at this. "Know her? I should bloody well hope so, I shagged her for more than a century!" It all fell into place. Drusilla's fucking ex. She had said, 'can't bite'. He can't bite. "I need to know. Where is she? Is Darla with her? Do you know?" "Why the fuck should I tell you?" He had a point. Beating someone to a pulp is not always the way to make them most cooperative. I had the feeling he wasn't the type to spill his guts under pressure. Maybe if I had something he wanted. Well, too late for that. "Is she the one you're looking for? Darla?" he asked, curiosity gleaming maliciously from his grin. I didn't want to answer, but I had to know. If he knew where she went, I had to know. I had to find her. "Yes." "You *are* a lot like Angelus then, aren't you?" The anger began to well up again, but I choked it down. I had to keep calm, see what he knew. "I'll pay you. I can give you..." "I want more than just your money, " he interrupted. "What do you want then? Please, I have to find her." I heard my voice starting to break. He leaned his head to one side and just looked at me. Sizing me up. "What do you have that I want? Hmm, think about it, pretty boy. You're a human, I'm a vampire..." "Blood?! But you can't bite." "I can't hurt. I can't *kill*. But if you're willing, I can bite." My stomach turned. I used to imagine Darla, but in my dreams there was never any fear, any pain. I thought about the blood oozing out of a wound in my throat. Maybe it wouldn't stop. Maybe he wouldn't stop. I could die, right here on the floor of this sleazy hotel room. He moved closer to me, his human face looking almost gentle. He reached up and touched my cheek, looked into my eyes. "I can't do it if you're afraid. I can't hurt you." He began to caress my face gently. He cupped my chin in his hand and pulled me in. He kissed me, just brushing his lips against mine. "Relax. Come on baby, give me a kiss." Maybe it was the way his mouth curled around the word 'baby' that did it. I leaned toward him, and started to kiss back. His hands had moved from my face and were now petting me, my arms, my chest. I started to calm down and I could feel my body begin to relax in spite of myself. I pulled him closer to me, and when he felt me pressing against him, he sighed, and closed his eyes. Once again, we explored each other's mouths hungrily. His still-blunt teeth nipped at my lips. His hand was trailing a cool path up my thigh. "So pretty," he whispered. "I want to watch you when you come." He leaned back to see my face. I let my head fall back and found that his other hand was there, supporting it. He twisted his fingers in my hair, toying with the strands. His mouth was on my jaw, kissing up to my ear. He licked my earlobe, then took it into his mouth. I shuddered. "You like that?" "Yes." "What else do you like? Tell me." "Lower," I gasped. He moved his mouth just over my pulse point and whispered, "Here?" My cock grew hard as I felt his mouth on my throat. I groaned and pressed up against him. He wrapped his hand around my cock and began to stroke me. He kissed my neck softly, and tightened his hand around me. I was getting harder every second, thinking about how good he had tasted, the feel of him in my mouth. Thinking of the way he had asked to suck me, hissing in my ear. His hand was slick, pulling with an insistent rhythm. I thrust awkwardly up into his hand, wanting his mouth on me. My back arched and I could feel the hard wet slide of my cock against his palm. He mouthed the spot softly, licking. I tried to thrust faster, and he responded, speeding up the motion with his hand. He sucked a little at my neck, like a teenager giving a hickey. "Yeah. Right there." "Do you want to come for me?" His hand wasn't enough; I needed something else to push me over the edge. I wanted him to drink from me. I had to know what it would feel like. I felt the muscles in my stomach tighten as I pictured the pain. My hips jerked up hard, pushing my cock into his tight fist. "When you..when you bite." He purred then, a long low sound, and I could feel the vibration through me, in the pit of my stomach. I could feel it getting closer, sweet tension building, his hand a blur on my cock. His mouth closed over my throat, and then fire. Searing heat, pain, "Oh God, *yes*" I came into his hand, screaming. Felt the cool wet of something against my thigh; realized only vaguely that it must be his. Sound of blood rushing getting fainter in my ears. Sinking to the floor with him still on me. And as I grew faint, he stopped. Pulled back with a snarl on his face and a hand pressed to his forehead. He stood up, looking down on me. His face morphed back into a human's. He walked away from me, pulled on his jeans, searched for his shirt. Finding it, he tugged it over his head. He moved around the room, gathering his things while I lay slumped on the floor, exhausted, the wounds in my throat burning, but already starting to close. He had his leather duster in his hand, was fumbling in the pocket. It took all the energy I had to croak, "Tell me. Darla. Where is she?" He pulled out the pack of cigarettes, took one out slowly. Glanced at me on the floor, said nothing. He picked up my discarded jeans, found my wallet. I watched as he took out all the cash. I didn't care; I just wanted one thing. "Please. Where is she?" He lit the cigarette, took a long drag, and as he walked out the door he said, "I never said I knew."