so shocking where's your sense

[lockless_key]

The bath I take as soon as I get home must've lasted for hours. I keep draining the tub partially and filling it up again so the water wouldn't get cold. I think I fell asleep at one point, so I climb out and head to bed so I wouldn't drown, 'cause this would be a bad time in my life to drown. But once in bed, I can't sleep. I just lay there,

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[sired1880spike]

"Is that right?" I say, tilting my head to the side and smirking at her as she takes me in. She's startled, I can tell that... And I also know she's pleased. She's not seen me like this before. Been a long time since I did this. It feels good, to forget who I am - who I've become - for a bit.

"Want to dance, pet?" I ask, and without looking to see if she'll follow I move through the crowd so I'm in the thick of it, hot bodies on either side of me, and I let myself go.

Haven't danced, not really, in a long time. Back in the 70s I'd get my nose and fist bloody moshing at gigs, then go to late night clubs and dance and dance, and then I'd kill. It was bloody beautiful. When did I stop having fun? I've turned into someone's grandpa. Just cos I'm over 100 doesn't mean I have to act like it?

Dawn's next to me now, and I dance close to her, letting my hips nudge hers, my fingertips grazing the small of her back. Dancing at the bloody Bronze, who'd have thought it?

Perhaps I should have done, long ago.

I skim my finger along her exposed collarbone, admiring the way the halterneck slinks around her curves.

"Nice shirt, love," I whisper in her ear, letting my lips touch her earlobe.

[lockless_key]

It's a different look, but it works - oh boy does it work. It makes him look more dangerous, in that 'to hell with it all' way. It's timeless, doesn't look out of place at all, because of the way he wears it. Like he belongs.

He moves off into the crowd and I follow. Forget Janice, she's probably found herself another boy toy to grind all over. Of all people, she'll understand. I smile, dancing over to Spike, and his fingers brush my skin. It brings to mind other touches, his hands on my arms, bruising, his palm pressing my shoulder into the bed... the dance floor is warm as it is, but a wave of heat surges through me when I think about it. Last night.

"Thanks," I whisper back as he compliments me. His lips graze my ear, but there's no breath, and it makes a shiver run down my back and my muscles tighten. I move closer to him, just a bit, and trace one finger down the line of his body, coming to rest on his hip, and curl my fingers through the belt loop on the side of his jeans.

The other arm slides around his shoulders, slowly, tentatively as if every touch is the first, and I pull his hips closer to me gently. Shaking back my hair, I tilt my face up to him. My cheek brushes his, and I know he can feel my breath on his skin.

"Why haven't I seen you here before?" I murmur, moving slowly against him, hips swaying, the rough material of his jeans brushing against my hipbones.

[sired1880spike]

Dawn traces her finger down my body. The feel of it makes me shiver. The delicacy of it makes it more tantalising, especially when I know what such touches can lead to. Like they did last night.

She moves her arm around my shoulders, and she sways against me. I'm sure she can feel my hardness through the line of my jeans. Her thighs are pressed against mine, and I remember the soft whiteness of them, and the marks I left there. I let my arm circle her, managing not to pull her to me roughly, as I would like to. That's not part of tonight's game. Tonight she's just a girl I've met. There's no past, no strings... Just this.

"Why haven't I seen you here before?" she asks.

"New in town," I say, my fingers moving down her back. I let my fingers stroke just underneath the hem of her shirt, a teasing movement. "Been in New York, mostly. Sunnydale seems like the sort of town I might like, though," I add, letting my fingers move a little higher underneath the back of her shirt. "All sorts of...diversions."

We dance for a little while. The warmth of her makes my whole body strain with tension - but in a bloody nice way. God, it's been years since anyone made me feel anything like this. I've been missing out, I reckon.

"So, pet," I said. "Do I need to buy you a drink, or shall we just skip that part and move on to the next?" I quirk my eyebrow at her, smiling, my hands stroking the smooth skin of her back.

[lockless_key]

I raise my eyebrows slightly, looking up at Spike as his hands trace over my back, and I feel safe, strangely enough, and comfortable in my own body like I haven't felt in a while. Being with him makes me feel awake, like I'm not waiting for something to happen, as I have been for such a long time. Now I can just relax and enjoy the moment.

"What kind of a girl do you think I am?" I whisper softly, but I'm smiling, tilting my head to the side to shake out my hair. But what kind of a girl am I? Would I go home with someone who's gorgeous and dangerous and whose touch lights me on fire like nobody's done for so long? Even if he's a stranger?

Because this isn't really Spike, at least not the Spike that I know. This is a younger Spike, a big city vampire, free and unrestrained as he was before he came to Sunnydale, met Buffy, before all of this happened. But then again, I'm an older Dawn.

My hips brush against his and I can feel him hardening against me, and that totally excites me, encourages me. I'm tired of going home with random boys, but I feel like I have a connection with this one, and it might be worth a try. Besides, the way he makes me feel... I wouldn't pass it up for a million bucks.

"What is the next step?" I ask softly, looking up at him and watching his blue eyes burn.

[sired1880spike]

"What kind of a girl do you think I am?" she says in response to my cheeky comment, but she's smiling at me, her hair falling down her back.

"What kind of girl do you want to be, pet?" I ask, settling my hands on her hips, my thumbs hooking under the waistband of her skirt.

"What is the next step?" she asks, looking straight up at me.

"In this case," I say, "I reckon the lady gets to choose. You look," I add, touching my lips to her throat for a moment, "like a girl who knows what sort of things she likes to pass the time." I look back up at her, pulling her closer to me. "All you have to do is... ask."

I can feel the heat rising between our two bodies as we look at each other. Last night I took Dawn in the way I wanted. Now I want to know what she wants, detached from our past and future and whatever bloody else there is. Just want to know what she wants now, and how she wants it.

I've always quite liked a girl who'll be upfront about things, after all.

[lockless_key]

As Spike pulls me closer to him, I can feel my skin tingle under the silky cloth, only thin layers of fabric separating our skin, and it seems like there's nothing. The way he makes me feel, I'd do it on the dance floor, but I'm not like that. I never was, no matter how bad I ever got. I like privacy, and I like sweetness, too, as much as the roughness.

If he was just a boy that I liked, that made me feel good and looked worthwhile, what would I do with him? I don't know - it doesn't really compare, because even if he's a stranger to me, he's so much more than all those guys out there that I've never really met and never will. It's obvious.

I slide my fingers up his side and then run my hands down his arms, amazed at the smoothness of his pale skin and the hard muscle underneath. I don't think it'll ever cease to amaze me - I was just as attracted to it when I was fourteen, only now I can do something about it.

"All you have to do is... ask."

I smile. Dawn Summers, being the younger sister, knows how to get what she wants. My hands slide over Spike's arms, coming to rest on his shoulders, then slip to the back of his neck to touch his platinum hair.

"I'd like to get to know you better."

Yeah, I'm just that kind of a girl.

[sired1880spike]

I shiver as Dawn rubs her fingers over my skin. Her hands feel hot against me. She reaches around the back of my neck, and I smile in pleasure. My skin there has always been sensitive. She touches my hair, and I'm pleased, if a little surprised. No one ever touches my hair. I guess it looks more touchable now it's messy, instead of slicked back hard.

"I'd like to get to know you better," says Dawn, a little suggestively, but there's a touch of something real there, too. Something vulnerable hidden behind the smoky eyeliner.

I lead her off the dancefloor to the bar, where I order us drinks. I like the ritual aspect of it - guy meets girl, buys her a drink, they talk in a way that's like dancing, words colliding and caressing, knowing that their bodies will do the same later.

"Know me better?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. I tug gently on the collar of my t-shirt, giving her a glimpse of the skin below, letting her see what things she can get to know better later. "Ask a question then, love - but any answers I give will mean you have to forfeit something," I say, smiling slightly, the corner of my mouth turning up as I look brazenly across her body.

[lockless_key]

The music swirls around me as I wrap my fingers around my drink. I don't know what Spike ordered, and honestly, I don't care. It's not important. What's important is the place, the time, the way his voice rises over the noise and carries over to me. A guy and a girl at the Bronze, it's all so ordinary. So weird, like, this is not my life.

His eyes skim my body, and I'd be annoyed if it was anyone else, but I'm doing the same, watching the flash of pale skin underneath the ripped shirt. And as much as I want to touch him, and have him touch me, this is nice, this weird normality, the talking, the tension.

"Forfeit?" I raise my eyebrows, looking up at him, and lick my lips. The more I gain, the more I lose, is that what it's like? Fine. "I'll play."

Leaning against the bar, I trace patterns over the glass, shake back my hair and bite my lip lightly. "What do you look for in a girl?"

Tricky question. Drusilla, Buffy, different as night and day, and now me, if I even count... but I'd like to know. What he sees in me, what he saw in them, what he looks for in everyone.

[sired1880spike]

Dawn leans back against the bar, her finger tracing the top of her glass, and her white teeth touch her lip. Each move is seductive.

"What do you look for in a girl?" she asks, and again there is that hint of vulnerability. I think for a moment and shrug.

"Dunno. I like... I like a woman with strength of mind." Alright, Dru had been crazy, but she was strong-willed about it. And Buffy had always been so determined, her mind flying straight like an arrow. Dawn, I think, is less like that. Her mind coils and loops. But there's strength there. "I want her to be able to see something in me that other people don't," I say quietly. Dru had seen it. Had found me in an alleyway and plucked something out of the air and made me. Buffy didn't see it, I don't reckon. I wish she had. Dawn, at least, didn't treat me like a monster. "I want someone I can be lost for a while in."

The conversation is taking a decidedly serious tone, and I'm not sure I want that. I scrabble in my pocket and pull out my cigarettes. Lighting one, I add:
"'Course, a good rack and a loose attitude towards the wearing of underwear also helps."

[lockless_key]

For several silent moments I think on what he'd just said. I think about it, and look for each of those things in Buffy, in Drusilla, whom he'd loved the longest. In me.

But I don't even know where I stand. What kind of a relationship is this? We both want each other, and we both care for each other, but there's no love... is there? He's my childhood protector turned undead lover, but what am I to him? I never stopped wanting him, not since I was like, fourteen, but he never felt that way about me until now... Everything's so fucking weird.

"I want someone I can be lost for a while in."

Spike doesn't usually talk about his feelings, doesn't open up easily, so that surprises me. And I agree, too, because I've tried to lose myself in many boys, but it only brought me back around to being too aware of myself.

Then he covers up that moment of clarity with some stupid shallow comment, and the small smile on my face turns into a smirk. "Of course," I agree, how just like Spike.

Moving forward, I pull a cigarette out of the pack and hold it between two fingers, waiting for him to light it for me. "So, what's your plan?" I ask, and smile. What I really want to ask is 'why me?' but I think it's a little too serious for Spike's taste right now, and probably mine as well.

[sired1880spike]

I bend and light Dawn's cigarette with my own still in my mouth. Neat trick if you can pull it off, and of course I can. I straighten up. I'm glad she hasn't pushed me about what I've said. She doesn't get on my case, and I'm grateful. I feel like with Dawn I can just "be", whatever the hell that means.

"So what's your plan?" she asks, smiling at me.

"My plan, love, is to make you think it's a good idea to go home with me," I say, tracing a finger along the curve of her jaw. "How long d'you reckon it'll take?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and letting my hand settle on her hip, my thumb gently rubbing the skin between her shirt and skirt.

[lockless_key]

Spike lights my cigarette and I take a deep drag, feeling the smoke flood my mouth. It tastes like him to me, now, whatever brand he smokes, because I know how he tastes. It's a thrilling thought.

"It's never a good idea to go home with strangers," I say softly, feeling the cool weight of his hand on my hip. Raising my eyes to his face, I take in his appearance again - the messy hair, the dark-lined eyes, the ripped shirt and the silver spikes around his wrist. And I know I want him, but I also want to know him, the Spike that he was before Sunnydale and Buffy and all of that happened. I want to know how things would've been between us if he hadn't been my caretaker. If we were just two perfect strangers.

"But then again," I say, shrugging, "I've never been a very sensible girl."

[sired1880spike]

"It's never a good idea to go home with strangers," she says, looking at me, her eyes thoughtful.

"'S right, pet," I say. "Sunnydale's full of bad things, and how are you to know I'm not one of them?"

"I've never been a very sensible girl," she says with a graceful shrug, and I smile.

"I'm not a very sensible boy, either," I say. "Got me in trouble more than once. But I won't hurt you tonight. Not in a way you don't want, anyway," I add softly, my mouth close to her ear, and I can feel the heat of her desire.

I step back and take her hand.

"Walk with me," I say, and it's more of a request than a command. "I'm fed up of being around other people tonight." I look down at her, straight into her eyes, and my next words are warm and low. "All I want right now is you." I straighten up. "And if you don't trust me, we can go to your place," I add lightly, as if I were just some bloke picking up a girl and doing his best to make her feel comfortable. At least it can be that simple tonight.

[lockless_key]

I like how he calls himself a boy. He's what, a hundred and thirty now, and yet I swear, sometimes it's like he's still on my mental level. There were times before he left, and we were together, he'd act like one of my classmates. It was refreshing, then, an adult who didn't treat me like I was five and didn't act so much older and wiser.

I could be myself around him, comfortable. I hope he can feel that way around me.

He takes my hand and I lace my fingers through his, feeling his skin warm up slowly against mine. My cheeks flush as he mentions hurting me. Yeah, I've got bite marks all over to prove that true. It's weird, I never used to be into that, I mean, not really, but with Spike, it's different. With him, pain is hard to avoid, and you don't really want to avoid it anyway.

I glance down for a moment, then back up at him. "I don't trust you," I say with a small smile, because it's true, I don't, I don't trust anyone, not even myself, "don't take it personally. But I've got a roommate that's not all there, so maybe we should avoid her."

Squeezing his hand lightly, I take a step towards him. "Let's go."

[sired1880spike]

It's funny, this not-knowing game we're playing. It can let Dawn say that Willow's just some weird roomie. Pretend that's all she is.

"Don't take it personally, love. I don't really trust myself, either," and I frown slightly, even though the line was meant to come out lightly. I don't trust myself with her, and that's the truth, and maybe that's why this game appeals to me, cos it's taking me away from having to trust myself, to think of what's best even though it's against my nature.

We walk out into the dark, and the air is crisp. Her fingers are hot pressed against my palm, and she smells of smoke and salt and flowers.

I think about taking her back to my crypt, but it occurs to me that if Dawn didn't really know me, the idea of being shagged in a tomb would probably be disturbing. And if we go back there, all I'll think about is last night. I want tonight to feel different.

So I lead her down a narrow street to a darker part of town, to a place lit with a red neon light. The kind of hotel that rents by the hour, and the clerk asks no questions of a couple who smell of a nightclub and bring no luggage. We don't even talk. I just hand him a furl of bills and he gives me a key. The fob is of a ceramic heart, and we find out why when we reach the room. The bed is heart shaped too.

"Lovely," I say, raising my eyebrows at Dawn. Still, I like the place's anonymity... and the bundle of goods by the bed. Handcuffs and the like, all vaccuum sealed in plastic. It makes me laugh slightly, these sordid things so hygienically wrapped, and then I turn and kiss Dawn lightly, lightly on the lips.

[lockless_key]

As we walk I think about Spike's words. "I don't really trust myself either." I trust him not to hurt me, physically, or at least not too much, but I don't trust him when it comes to depending on him. I did once and he left. I trust his hands on me, but I don't trust his presence in my life. It's weird, isn't it? And wrong. Weird and wrong.

Story of my life.

We walk down the street, hand in hand, the punk and his club-kid girlfriend. My hand in his feels weird because it's so ordinary. Normal people hold hands. We fuck and destroy.

He leads me to a shady hotel, lit up all dim in an attempt to be dramatic. I can't help but giggle as we pay the clerk and get the key. That guy knows exactly what happens in this place and he's never in on the action. I toss my hair at him as we walk away, it's mean but I can't help but taunt him.

I laugh outright when I see the room. It's kind of cute, in a terribly cliche way. So damn tragic, the heart-shaped bed and all. And there's a bunch of things at the bedside which make me blush. This should be interesting. Spike turns and kisses me softly, and I kiss him back. Sliding my hands up his arms to wrap around his shoulders, I press my body against his and think that this is how these things should happen, gently and shyly, exploring and tasting.