for outofthisworld

Merry Christmas, outofthisworld! I had a great time being your Cupid in February and now I have the pleasure of being your Santa! I hope you enjoyed your icons. Here is your final gift, a Spuffy story. I was pleasantly surprised to receive this plot bunny, especially since I'm not much of a Spuffy fan. Enjoy!


Title: Driveshaft
Author: queenofdenile
Setting: After "Lovers Walk"
Pairing: Spike/Buffy, mentions of Spike/Drusilla
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to play with them.
Rating: NC-17
Note: for outofthisworld for btvs_santa

"…I DID IT MYYYYYYYYYYY WAYYYYYY!"

Shouting the lyrics at the top of his scratched vocal chords, Spike punctuated the song's coda with a pumped fist in the air. The gesture in itself was enough to denote his triumph, but the bottle of bourbon enclosed in his grasp was the maraschino cherry on the top of the sundae. He tore the cap off with his teeth, leaned back, and chugged half of the bourbon in one gulp. After emitting a loud belch, he rested the bottle between his legs and continued to drive, chuckling at every mile.

"Hear that, Dru? I'm coming for you, baby. Your man is back and badder than ever!" He picked up the bottle and gave it another victorious swing through the air. "That's right, baby, I'm bad!" He leaned back to take a swig. "I'm ba....oh, bollocks," he muttered, realizing that he'd completely missed his mouth and just spilled the remainder of the bottle all over his pants and long leather coat. Grumbling obscenities under his breath, Spike tried to rip off his coat with one hand while trying to keep the other gripped on the steering wheel.

Honk! "WATCH IT, ASSHOLE!"

"FUCK OFF, WANKER!" Spike screamed in response to the driver who tried to cut him off. Flipping the bird, he realized that the black ink covering the car windows would probably prevent the asshole from appreciating this gesture. He slammed his foot on the gas, sped up to the driver on the right, and clipped him on the side with just enough pressure for the driver to lose control and flip the car over the side of the road. When he saw the other car burst into flames, Spike slipped to a much slower speed. Knowing he wouldn't be able to watch the fire consume the car and the driver inside, he could at least enjoy the screams of agony permeating through the air. When he was quite certain the man was dead, he grinned and let out a wild hoot. "Wait till I tell Dru about that one!"

Spike began singing the last few bars of "My Way" over again to celebrate his second victory of the day, when he realized that the song was finished and another one was playing. The melody was familiar to him, so he turned the volume and hummed along. He then recognized it almost instantly as his favorite song by The Cure.

"I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's great and Wednesday too
Thursday, I don't care about you
It's Friday I'm in love"

He felt a gentle smile tug at his lips as he fondly remembered dancing to this song with Drusilla under the moonlight in the 80s. It was a live, outdoor concert. He had just convinced Dru not to eat Robert Smith after the performance and look for some unsuspecting Billy Idol groupies instead. He couldn't wait to find his princess, to whisper sweet melodies in her ear, to tie her to the bedpost and shag her rotten until she screamed his name into his mouth and all thoughts of Angelus and the Slayer flew out of her head.

Spike growled and gripped the steering wheel harder as Drusilla's accusations came rushing back to him. Tell him he was obsessed with the Slayer? He never would've asked for her help at all if Dru hadn't mooned all over Angelus and helped him with his bloody genius end-of-the world scheme. And their problems never would've happened in the first place if the Slayer had just died when she was supposed to. Why was the Slayer so insistent on living, anyway? Why couldn't she just take it like a man like the first two, fight it to the death and leave a pretty corpse?

A new thought occurred to him, and he groaned when he realized what it meant: how would Drusilla react when he told her he had failed to kill the Slayer again? He would have to spin some fantastic story about a mind-controlling demon getting in the way, messing with his head and confusing him. Or he could tell her he did kill the Slayer this time.

"That's right, I killed her for you, baby. I bathed in her blood. Ate her eyeballs for dessert. I tried to save you the heart, but I didn't have a portable freezer."

No, that would never work with Dru. She'd see right through his lies and claim to "see the Slayer all around him" again. Or maybe she'd smell him this time. That was her new thing: smelling his aura. Her heightened senses were becoming bloody problematic.

Damn that Slayer, causing all these extra problems for him. Even when he tried to get rid of her, leave Sunny Hell forever, she was always in the back of his mind, ruining everything. Even when she was fake-dead and thousands of miles away, he couldn't escape her.

Well, at least he got to see her doe-eyed and sad before he left. And watching Angel get his ass kicked was quite a treat as well. He and the Slayer couldn't last much longer than that. Spike grinned to think of their eventual breakup. No doubt would it consist of much blather about soulmates and Romeo and Juliet – typical of Wonder Gel's style. He'd break her heart, and the Slayer would return home to her mother, vulnerable and crying, in a complete weakened state. Anyone could catch her off-guard, attack her, and kill her without so much as a fight.

Spike frowned and leaned back in his seat, slightly relaxing his hand on the steering wheel. The Slayer, weak and defenseless, getting killed in a heartbeat…the thought didn't appeal to him as much as it should. Not even if he was the one doing the killing. That wasn't how the Slayer worked, anyway. No, she wouldn't let her guard down even when her heart was broken. He'd seen her in action after Angel went bad. The pain gave her an extra fire, made her more determined to win.

Suddenly Spike felt overcome with the need to spin the car around and step hard on the gas all the way back to Sunnydale. Angel no doubt had dumped her by now, and the Slayer was gearing up to hide her pain, looking for the first demon to beat to a bloody pulp. Ripe for battle, the best challenge he would ever face…it was too much to resist.

He could taste her blood on his lips right now. He wouldn't get it right away, of course. He'd have to work for it. Perform their same tired dance yet again, as he baited her with his crude remarks about Angel and she fought back with the insults to his manhood. But this time, it would be more charged and angrier than ever, her coming off a heartbreak and him determined to claim the most important victory of his life.

It was only a matter of time before one of them slipped and made a wrong move, and it wouldn't be him. The Slayer, overcharged on anger and hurt like a small blonde Energizer bunny, would make a sweeping attack and wind up in his arms, her hands pinned down to her sides. Then he would slip into his game face and lean down to her neck.

But this is an important win for him. It can't be over with one quick plunge and a promise to call her in the morning. This is a prime kill, one he has to savor. He grips her arms around her waist and presses himself against her back as he slowly scrapes his fangs along her throbbing, yielding neck. The blood arises and he dabs the tip of his tongue along the thin red stream. She moans softly and tries to struggle out of his grasp, but he grips her body harder and sinks his teeth a little deeper. Blood flows more rapidly now, filling his mouth with a taste both sweet and bitter, and her efforts to free herself from his power are fruitless, her squirming body reminding him of a baby becoming restless in her crib during a nightmare. As her body becomes weaker, her moans grow louder in desperation, driving him mad with hunger and need. His hand around her waist crawls up to her plump breasts ready to burst from her tight top. He slides down her shirt, beneath the fabric of her bra, and grips one breast in his sinewy hand, stroking the nipple with his finger. Her cries are even louder now as he bends her body to curve against him, and he joins in the moaning, muffled because of his mouth still caressing her neck. He releases his other hand to slide down her torso and unbuckle the top of her pants. Her cries grow into screams as he shoves his fingers into the wells of her cunt, and he pushes in and out and even forgets to feed because his head is thrown back and groaning along with her, the rush of ecstasy going right down to his cock, ready to burst…

"Thank you for listening to KBRL, the home of the best mix of 70s and 80s rock! We'll be back with more hits after this brief commercial message."

Spike woke himself with a jolt. Looking down at his hands, he realized they were gripping the steering wheel so hard that one more minute of his fantasy would've ripped it right from the car. He quickly lifted one hand from the wheel and rubbed it across his head, which was drenched in sweat.

How long had he been in that dream, anyway? That song only went a little over three minutes. Had he worked himself up into that state, dreaming of the Slayer, in only three minutes?

Spike shuddered. No, there was definitely no going back to Sunnydale now. He couldn't face the Slayer after that. Hell, he was barely sure he could face Dru after that. She would definitely be able to "sense his aura" after that.

He grabbed the bottle of bourbon lying next to him and chugged the rest of it down, spraying some of the liquor over his clothes again. For once he didn't mind. The booze could hide the Slayer's scent, make it harder for Dru to find her.

Come on, Spike. Think of Drusilla and be the man she wants you to be. A man who wouldn't have dreams of shagging the Slayer when he was supposed to kill her.

"And we're back from our brief commercial break!"

Oh, good. The music could drive all these thoughts out of his head, provide a decent distraction on the way back to Dru.

"Coming up in our next commercial-free hour, we'll have more songs from The Cure, Squeeze, and a little from Slayer. First up, The Guess Who's 'American Woman.'"

Spike groaned and banged his forehead on the steering wheel. It was going to be a long ride.