We're just like dynamite...blowin' up all night
[Continued from here]
The way he fills me, presses into me and stops this aching that I have inside me. Even if it's for a moment it's just what I need, what I crave right now.
"God... yeah, like that..." I rock my hips slowly and with determined movements against his hips, feeling him gasp and arch with each circle of my hips. Nothing about this ( Read more... )
The way he fills me, presses into me and stops this aching that I have inside me. Even if it's for a moment it's just what I need, what I crave right now.
"God... yeah, like that..." I rock my hips slowly and with determined movements against his hips, feeling him gasp and arch with each circle of my hips. Nothing about this ( Read more... )
She leans into my touch, and for a moment, I don't remember how to react. Since I left Wolfram & Hart, shedding the suits and legalese lingo, I've become much more of an animal than I would've liked to believe. I can fight, and I can fuck, and I can keep myself alive. But this gentle intimacy leaves me helpless and lost. When did the game change? I concentrate on rinsing the last of the blood out of her hair and not letting her slip to the floor, as her murmured monologue turns quietly frantic again.
"D-don't...don't make me w-want to count on you just f-for you to... move back to your life..."
My laugh is abrupt and humorless as I reach for a towel. "My life," I chuckle dryly, wrapping the thick cotton around her shoulders. I shake my head. "Haven't got much in the way of a life at the moment."
My fairly depressing train of thought is brought to a halt when I notice that she's... changing. There's a shimmer around her like a mirage on heated asphalt, and then there are scars. I've got enough of my own to know how to read them and these weren't accidental. Someone did this to her.
Fortunately, I also know enough about scars to know that exclaiming over them would probably make her feel like shit. I brush a strand of wet hair off her face and help her out of the shower again without a word. I don't even want to know why I feel like hunting down the son of a bitch who did this to her. Don't want to know why I can look into her eyes and hear... music? Okay, what the fuck?
"Oh, for the love of... my phone's ringing and I'm not leaving you in here with this mess," I explain, tugging her towards the door with me as my cell continues to chirp in the other room. She looks like a deer in the headlights, suddenly terrified. "Don't worry, it's Lorne. He's the only one who has my number. He's probably phoning to tell me I left with a vampire," I add with a wry smile, shutting the bathroom door behind us. Out of sight, out of mind. I'd rather not have her go dusty on me before I've got this figured out.
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"You have a heartbeat." I speak flatly, feeling jealousness fill my viens at the sound and feel of his heartbeat. He had one and it seemed by all of his actions tonight were on a path for distruction, like he didn't care about his life. Maybe this would make him change his mind, think about what he has. A heartbeat is a gift.
Thankfully he doesn't say anything about the scars, I know he'll ask later but for the moment he keeps quiet, leaving me to my quiet murmurs and contimplation over what I've lost. I feel his body warm against mine and I just let him manipulate me into whatever he needed done, leaving me standing there as he reached for a towel, wrapping it around me and I pulled my long hair out from under it, letting it fall down my back and shoulders when I heard ringing.
"Oh, for the love of... my phone's ringing and I'm not leaving you in here with this mess...Don't worry, it's Lorne. He's the only one who has my number. He's probably phoning to tell me I left with a vampire,"
The ringing startled me and I stiffened up, my eyes wide as I looked at him, wondering if he had friends that were going to come and stake me or worse. I let him drag me into the room again, the light coming from the window's making me want to cower and hide.
I watched as he walked over to where some of his change and other things fell out of his pocket the night before, his phone churping loudly when he picked it up. I glanced around and moved over to the side of the room by the door, my mind flashing back to the way he pressed me hard against him when we walked in last night.
It was dark there and I didn't care about anything else, I didn't want to get burned, I was hurting enough. What was scaring me was the craving I was getting again for blood...
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"Hello?"
"Crumbcake! Oh, I'm so glad you're alive!"
"No thanks to you," I counter, "What the hell happened to my early warning system, huh?"
"Uh-uh, no way, José. You're not pinning this on my pretty horned head, buster. Damien said you two took off faster than the speed of common sense."
I snort, dragging my fingers through my hair. "Damien has a big mouth. Next time, maybe he ought to use it to, I don't know, warn me?" I glance over at Tara, who's watching me, her eyes glinting from the shadows. She looks like she's starting to shiver... probably with hunger. She lost a lot of blood in the bathroom, and vampires don't get cold. "Doesn't matter. It turned out all right."
"All's well that ends with a pile of dust," Lorne quips.
"Um," I remark eloquently. "Listen, I was wondering if I could get a couple bags of blood from the bar. You can take it out of my wages." I can practically hear Lorne clue in to what's going on.
"Make my night and tell me you've suddenly developed a taste for authentic Bloody Marys, Lindsey."
"It's not... she's not... there are extenuating circumstances," I plead. I don't bother lowering my voice to a whisper, knowing damn well she'll hear it either way. "She never lost her soul, Lorne. It's hurting her."
"This has trouble written all over it. In big, neon, block letters. Highlighted. And underlined, with a bunch of little..."
"Lorne..."
"Okay, okay. Swing by with your bloodsucking sweetie and I'll see what I can do." I can tell by his tone that he's not at all happy with this turn of events, but I'm grateful just the same, and the thought of having an objective party in this is reassuring.
"Thank you. I owe you, Lorne. See you in a bit." Ending the call, I turn back to Tara, who's taken up residence in the corner, her towel pulled tight around her like a Salvation Army model. I go over to her, offering her a hand up and trying not to think too hard about Lorne's dire attitude. Mostly because he's got this annoying way of knowing just when things are going to go belly-up.
"Hungry?"
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What was really getting to me is the images that flooded my mind, the images of those I loved and cared about dead at my hand, Spike twisting my mind so much that I ended up killing for him because the chip wouldn't let him.
"Hungry?"
I nodded, not realizing till then that I was crying, images flooding my mind of what I did to him and what nearly happened. I nearly killed him, the only person that's been nice to me and I nearly killed him.
Taking his hand I stand up, forgetting the towel as I stand, moving my hair off my face and swallowing hard before looking down at my feet. "I-I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry for what..." I shook my head and whimpered, feeling torn inside again. "I'm sorry." I felt myself shaking and I quickly tried to brush everything - including him - off and I made my way to the closet, pulling it open and trying to find something to wear.
"Whore." I spat at myself, realizing that everything that I had packed was all the things Spike picked out for me. Nothing was there that I would wear, that I remember wearing. It all felt like halloween and this was like some sort of joke.
Wiping my eyes I pulled out a pair of jeans - very low-cut but flared out at the bottom - and a tank-top. I slipped the tank-top on and looked down, crossing my arms over myself and feeling self-concious. I felt too exposed and I didn't like it, I didn't like any of this. I wished things would get easy for a little while.
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Well. Twice burned, if you count Darla. Maybe I’m not as smart as I’d like to believe.
"Whore."
I take an automatic step towards her, shocked at the sudden loathing in her voice. “Hey…” But she’s not listening to me, busy finding something to wear. Slipping the small crucifix into the waistband of my jeans, I give her some privacy as I retrieve my shirt, chucked somewhere between the wall and the bed.
It’s funny, how far she let me go. I mean, considering I was just a meal…
It makes me wonder.
Turning back, she looks like the All-American girl-next-door in jeans and a tank top. And she really does look earnestly uncomfortable. Picking up my jacket, I offer it to her without a word, waiting until she’s slipped it on to start heading for the door.
“Come on, Tara. Let’s see about getting you something to eat that won’t bite back.”
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Licking my lips I move over and pick up my brush, quickly running it through my hair and letting it fall in waves down my back before running my fingers through it and looking over at Lindsey who kept stealing glances at me; almost like he was trying to study me.
“Come on, Tara. Let’s see about getting you something to eat that won’t bite back.”
I nod and pick up the room key and slip the card in my back pocket. "Ok," Licking my lips I close the door behind us and wrap my arms around myself as we head down the hotel elevator and onto the lobby. I pick up the pace, trying to make my way through as fast as I can, too many mirrors for me to cast no reflection in.
We make it outside and I take a deep breath, sighing heavily and feeling like I could breathe for the first time. Which is ironic if you think about it.
He walks in step next to me and I glance over at him, knowing his mind is filled with questions. "I'll answer a-anything you ask me. Just ask already." I muttered, tucking my hair behind my ear and following him back down to the club.
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Priorities, Lindsey, priorities. Like the big damn mirrors that don't show a reflection as Tara hurries past them. My god, but I'm off my game not to have noticed those on the way in. I scramble to catch up with her, hesitant to let her out of my sight.
I won't screw up like I did with Darla. This girl I'm gonna keep safe.
"I'll answer a-anything you ask me. Just ask already," she offers quietly. I glance at her in surprise. Now why would she offer a thing like that to a guy who'd been, until recently, no more than a walking talking meal?
"Baby, you could talk for hours and I'd still have questions." Here's the streetlight where I let my guard fall on the promise of one wild night to make me forget. And there's the shop where I realized how cold she was, and didn't pay a bit of attention. Idiot.
"Why me?" The question slips out before I can register just how pathetic it sounds. I shove my hands into my pockets, falling into step beside her. "I mean, if I've got some 'please bite me' vibe going on, I should probably do something about that."
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"I don't talk for h-hours, Lindsey." I murmured, my hands digging into my pockets as I followed him back to the club. My eyes were down and I watched the street as we walked, taking small glances at Lindsey as we walked.
"Why me?"
His question slips from his lips and I find myself laughing. Running my fingers through my hair I shook my head and slowed my laugh down. "I-I'm sorry," I sighed and looked over at him. "That w-wasn't pathetic it's just out of everything that's the heavy loaded question to ask." My hands dug further into my pockets and I sighed, shaking my head and looking up ahead. "I don't know..."
Well, I actually did. But the reasons in my mind sounded stupid and like some bad pick-up line. It's not like I have anything to lose though.
"You looked like I felt," I spoke finally, my eyes meeting his for a moment. "Lost. You seemed like you were trying to hard to hide and blend in at the same time...I feel like that." We turned down the street towards the club and I looked ahead, feeling his eyes on me. "You don't h-have to help me or anything you know; I'll be ok..." I think, I should be right? I mean it's not long till Spike finds me.
I don't want him to find me.
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Despite the situation, it makes me smile. "Yeah, I'm picking up on that."
I glance over when she laughs, startled, but she apologizes quickly and the answer that eventually finds its way out... leaves me breathless with the truth of it. See? This is exactly why I never get my palms read or fool with that tarot stuff. Somebody might hit as close to home as she just landed. I stay quiet, not sure what to say to an insight like that.
"You don't h-have to help me or anything you know; I'll be ok..."
"I know I don't have to," I interrupt her quietly, before glancing over to meet her eyes. "But I'm going to." The confusion in her expression makes me look away, on the pretense of fumbling through my pockets for the after-hours key Lorne gave me.
"Besides, you need me to let you in," I add pragmatically, with a lopsided smile. I swing the door open and wait for her to make her choice.
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"I know I don't have to...But I'm going to."
Why? That's the only clear thought in my mind is why. Why was this man who had obvious issues and was so determined to hide in the most exposed city willing to help me? It started to make me panic a bit and worry exactly what his motives were.
Panic turned to fear and I watch as he smiles and holds the door for me, leaving me standing there and chewing my bottom lip and wondering what was going on, what was happening and what I was going to do about it.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced around and stepped inside, not feeling safe outside with the over exposed feeling it gave me. "Why?" I murmured softly, digging my hands in my pockets and slouching my shoulders as if to hide. I turned my eyes to him and kept my eyes with his when I finally spoke. "Why me? Why am I not ash Lindsey? I should be."
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"Why?"
I turn to face her, confused. "Why me? Why am I not ash Lindsey? I should be," she continues, the vulnerability clear in her voice, despite the fact that she could probably snap my neck if she was so inclined. I'm still weak, and even that short walk took it out of me more than I'd like to admit.
"Plenty of vampires that should be ash who aren't," I reply. "And some who are ash that..." I break off with a shrug
The fact of the matter is, she should be living and breathing and, from the look of her, signing up for some great college that she can write home about. She should be falling in love, or looking after a little sister, or getting a suntan just for the hell of it.
Nobody ever said the world was fair.
"I think you could use a friend about now," I tell her. "We don't have to both be lost. Now come on... let's get you a drink."
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"I know." I start to speak more but a look comes over his face and it makes me hurt, it's sadness and helplessness that I see in his eyes and I know that what I said before is true. He's as lost as I felt and that's why we gravitated towards each other, maybe we had something the other needed.
"I think you could use a friend about now...We don't have to both be lost. Now come on... let's get you a drink."
His words feel like a ton of bricks and a breath of fresh air all at once. I look into his eyes for a moment and smile slightly, reaching my hand out I ghost my fingers over his arm and kiss his cheek. "I don't want to be lost anymore," I whisper against his skin. "I'll let you come find me." Ducking my head down I pull away and walk over to the bar, sitting in the corner at the stool I was at last night and waiting for him.
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Her fingers are cool against my skin, sending goosebumps racing up my arm, and when she tilts her head up to kiss my cheek... (No sudden movements, Lindsey.)... it shouldn't feel so damn comfortable. So sweet. "I'll let you come find me."
I'm not sure what I'm going to do exactly, but the urge to take her by the arms and kiss her mouth comes to mind. But she walks away before I get up the nerve to make that move. Safer that way. I swallow hard, trying to pull myself together.
I shouldn't want her this much. It would be like falling for the Titanic.
I don't really feel like waking Lorne up from his beauty sleep, so I hop over the counter and start sorting through the various bottles on the shelves.
"I, uh, don't really know where anything is back here," I admit, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, every chance I get. The low lights still on from the evening put that ironic halo around her blond hair again, the one that caught my attention our first time around. "My job's more in the way of bouncer duty, you could say..."
Lindsey, you moron. You're looking for blood. Which would be in the fridge.
I hastily open the little fridge under the bar, not sure why I'm trying so hard to impress her. Or to keep from looking like an idiot anyway. I've still got the knack of pouring blood smoothly... thanks, Darla.
"I'll warm it up for you," I murmur, making sure there aren't any nasty lumps in her drink. Probably bad enough that it's not human. "And then we'll talk."
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