With Vampires Till Dawn
by J. M. Stoy
NOTES: Utterly without redemption PWP alt-u, I just wanted
to see this particular combo do the mambo Crossover.
Scully/Spike, X-F/BtVS crossover, NC-17, post-Bad Blood, probably
season 6 but nothing explicit, Buffy timeline is most likely
mid-season three, but we can't tell that for sure now, can we?
Children and shippers, run away.
I guess I can't claim I was drugged this time. This is going to be great. Just great. What the hell am I going to say? Something like this?
"Good morning, Mulder. I just had a close encounter with a vampire last night. I completely believe in them now. On all other counts involving the paranormal, you are still full of shit."
No. No way. I can't say that. But what else can I tell him? Last night, I take off without telling him, and this morning at seven thirty he gets a phone call that they found me bruised and apparently fazed in an alley. Of course he'll want a detailed itinerary, especially as I look a little beaten up. I am in so much trouble. I mean, oh, God-- what was I thinking?
"Scully? Are you okay?"
"Hi," I say bashfully. Mulder runs up and crushes me in his arms. He had the usual Mulder-action to my absence. Oh shit shit shit. There is no way I can tell him--
"Where were you?"
That's the question. I was sitting on my creaky-ass bed in this one-horse town, called Sunnydale. I was extremely irritated. Why doesn't the paranormal ever occur in, say, civilization? Why are the people who report events like Inca mummy girls and giant robots ever, um, sane? Anyway, we're in boring, no-resolution Sunnydale, and it's Tuesday night. The motel has free porno, which equalled me finding my own entertainment. About an hour into the NBC lineup, I flipped off the television, put on jeans and a t-shirt, and asked the desk clerk if there was anything to do in this godforsaken hellhole.
That's how I found myself in the Bronze, alone, nursing a dry martini. At least there were people and alcohol and music. I was also nursing a towering bitch-fit for Mulder when he came back from watching Debbie doing Dallas. That's when he showed up.
I was on my third martini, ogling anything that appeared to be over eighteen. I felt pathetic. I felt like upgrading to a stronger drink.
"A little old for the pimple squad here, aren't you, luv?" I heard him say. He sat down next to me without a by-your-leave or even an introduction. I didn't care.
"There's not much else for a bored tourist to do in Sunnydale," I replied honestly, hoping that I wasn't staring. He was gorgeous, in that Billy Idol, punk-rock-lad way. And he was much sexier than Billy Idol. My mouth went dry.
"No, I suppose not," he replied. "But why on earth would you holiday here, luv?"
Danger, danger, Dana Scully. I was being hit on by a gorgeous, sexual, dangerous-looking punk ten years younger than I was. I was enjoying it. I managed to smile.
"I'm not on a holiday. I'm FBI," I said laconically. "We're investigating some mysterious deaths."
He paused for just a second. "You? FBI? No offense, but I could knock you ass over ankles."
"Looks can be deceiving, Mister--"
"Spike. Just Spike. And what about you, FBI lady?" he asked, leaning in. I swear I got lightheaded.
"Scully," I replied. "So, Spike, didn't you hear Sid Vicious is dead?"
"Scully? That's no name for a beautiful woman. What's your name, really?" he replied, placing his hand over mine and stroking it with his thumb.
"Dana," I said. My tongue had gone limp. "So, tell me that you're not a really, really old-looking twelve-year-old, please."
"Someone's a little cranky," he teased, his breath tickling my earlobe. "What's wrong, Day, you and your man have a row?"
"I don't HAVE a man," I replied snippily. "My partner is engaged for the evening. I'm bored. I'm tipsy. My life is dull. My crankiness is justified."
Spike smiled widely. You know, besides the fact that all vampires are extremely charming-- that's very true-- they have a definite effect on women. On the sexual reponse. On arousal. I was definitely being affected.
Yeah, I wanted to jam my tongue down his throat. Happy?
"Oh, poor Day," he said softly, his thumb continuing to draw patterns on my hand and send shivers down my spine. "She's a beauty queen and nobody notices. Poor beauty. Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes are the most spectacular shade of blue?"
"You're Day, like a summer's day, like sunlight and afternoon. You're prettier than a summer's day."
I blushed like a fifteen-year-old. He grasped at my wrist then, trying to pull me up from the table.
"What?" I asked.
"Dance with me," he said. "Come on, Day luv. I bet you're a great dancer."
He helped me to my feet as I mumbled something idiotic like "ermokyea-uh" because I'd never heard the song or band before. Somehow, I fit into his arms just right, and the sharp exhale of my breathing sounded loud as he pulled me close and we started dancing slowly. I was on sensory overload. Spike was wearing a leather jacket, and the smell of leather, warm air, and stale air was making me spin. My one functioning brain cell informed me that it had been far too long since my last sexual encounter, and my body was adding it was horny.
Dancing is nothing more than socially sanctioned foreplay. That became extremely obvious extremely quickly. I do know how to dance, and I know that gyrating your hips against your dance partner's is not innocent, no matter what dances are popular these days.
Spike wasn't doing so bad, either. He had his face buried in my neck and his lips felt like fire moving against my throat. My one remaining brain cell burnt to a crisp, and its final message? Do him, Dana.
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" I managed to mutter just as his hands pulled my hips just a little closer. "Somewhere where the police won't stop our little party?"
"We're having a party?" he muttered, his tongue flicking my earlobe.
"Oh, God, yes," I whimpered. "Why can't I ever find nice boys like you at home?"
"I'm not nice, luv," he replied calmly. "My plans for you, pretty lady, have nothing to do with nice."
I pulled back from him with a grin. My eyes met his. His were glittering. I decided to do something impulsive. I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him.
No. It wasn't a kiss. It was an oral assault. It was my knees turning into water as his tongue duelled with mine, and his arms lifted me up so that we had a better grip on each other. Then he let me down.
"I didn't quite mean nice in the sense you were going to walk the dog for me," I replied. "Besides, my dog was eaten by an alligator. And nobody liked it anyway."
Spike laughed. "Come on, Day," he whispered into my ear. "You and me have plans."
We stumbled out of the Bronze. "Spike. Where are we going?" I whispered as his hand slid under my shirt. "Oh, God, that feels good."
"You talk so much, Day. Can't you just let things happen?" he asked, fingertips teasing my breast. "I never understood you middle-aged American women. So fucking neurotic about sex. It's got to be in a good relationship, people have to be careful--" he tugged then-- "Haven't you ever just wanted to just get off and enjoy it?"
"The last time I tried that," I growled, trembling with arousal, "The last time I tried that, I almost ended up getting fed to a fucking furnace."
"Someone would actually destroy something as beautiful as you?" he whispered, busying himself with licking a path from earlobe to the nape of my neck. The crotch of my jeans was soaking wet, and my irritation had nothing to do with Mulder now. "I think that I need to show you how much fun you can have with a very not-nice boy, Day. Turn right here. Third door. And be quiet. My-- housemates-- are rather particular. I'd rather they not know we're here."
"If you keep doing that, I won't be keeping too quiet," I replied. "But if you stop, I'll kill you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He closed the door behind us, and helped me up the stairs. We locked the bedroom door behind us, and he kissed me again, driving me up against the door. My head banged against the door and I saw stars. His body pinned me against the wood.
"Time for not-nice things, luv," he whispered, yanking my arms over my head. "I hope you're not fond of that shirt. I intend to rip it off you."
"I hope you're not fond of your jeans," I replied. "I intend to ruin the fly."
"And I thought that they had to have all-American types in the FBI," he said mockingly, holding my wrists with one hand and tearing off the shirt with the other. "You, my dear Day, are wicked."
I twisted my wrists free and pushed Spike to the ground. "I'm trying."
My lips found his, and my eager, naughty little hands helped him get his jacket and shirt off, and the proceeded to get rid of my bra, which was difficult as my fingers were busy scratching trails down Spike's chest and playing with his belt.
"Dana, behave," he whispered, whipping off his belt and pushing back so that I found myself on the floor, being tortured in the best possible way. His lips started trailing down my throat, nipping and tugging, down to the valley between my breasts, then up each incline, biting and snapping. I groaned.
"Let me up," I whimpered. "Spike, please."
"Shhhh. I promise you're going to enjoy this."
His fingers found the top button of my jeans, and I heard each steel rivet release from the fabric, and the friction as this divinely devilish blonde young man pulled the jeans away from my body. My hands, suddenly free to move, flopped bonelessly at my sides. I was a slut, and I was going to burn in hell for it but--
His tongue swirled in my belly button and my hips jerked up sharply. At least I'd get my money's worth.
"Don't stop," I whimpered.
"Stopping was the last thing I had on my mind, Day," he replied, stripping off my dripping underwear and driving a finger into me. I squealed.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm lots, oh God, lots better than all right," I moaned as he began pumping in and out, his warm mouth hovering around the swell of my stomach. I was almost afraid where his mouth would finally decide to end up. My hips would not stop moving, either.
"Mmm-hmm," he hummed into my stomach. I whimpered, and my heels started pounding against the hardwood floor. His fingers slammed into me with a brutal but extremely mind-numbing rhythm, and I couldn't help but writhe and whimper in delight.
His mouth finally decided to destroy me. It landed directly on my clit, and I howled.
"Don't stop, oh my God, OH my God, don't, don't, don't," I begged, grinding against him. "Oh God, please please please--"
I came then, hard. He laughed.
"Pleased?" he said.
"More than pleased," I said. "Is that a bed over there?"
"Yes, luv, I was just wondering if you'd like to use the bed."
"Mmmm-hmmm," I said dreamily. He picked me, actually threw me across his shoulder, and swatted my bottom for good measure. Like I said, my brain cells were all on vacation, so I didn't even feel the least bit of irritation when he threw me on the bed, and grinned at me like I was dinner.
"You can't go to sleep yet, Day. I haven't finished with you yet," he said, covering my face with his mouth and kissing.
"I'm not sleepy. Just glowing," I said, pushing my breasts into his chest. "What are we up to next, lover?"
"More sex. I think you and I will be up all night. In fact," he said, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth, "I know we will."
"Sounds like a proposition," I said, shifting beneath him restlessly. He was rock-hard and pressing into my belly. "Does someone need attention?"
"I'll show you attention," he growled, sucking hard on my breast again. He was trying to leave a mark, and a ghost of a thought dared pass through my mind.
"That'll show in the morning."
"No, really?" he asked. "Be a dear, Day, and get these pants off me."
"Your wish is my command," I replied smartly, pushing him back and opening the fly of his jeans. With my mouth. It's not as difficult as it sounds, the jeans were button fly. I moved my mouth up about six inches, and started nibbling and teasing as badly as he had teased me, while he and I rid him of those jeans.
I wasn't surprised to discover he wasn't wearing anything under them.
"Luv, I know you want to give as good as you get, but I'd rather get to the good part."
"The best things come to those who wait," I replied coyly, biting down on a nipple softly while my hand reached down and circled him. "I promise you're going to enjoy this."
He pulled my hand away. "Ah ah ah, Day. We're playing my games. I want inside of you."
I shimmied back and opened my legs for this absolute stranger. He laughed again and pounced, pausing a moment before driving into me.
"Oh God," he moaned, pulling back and then slamming into me again.. "You don't have any idea..."
I started moving with him then, quietly for once in this whole erotic escape. First slow, and then faster as we figured out each other's rhythms. He started pounding into me, his fingers grating across my back. I didn't care. I'd stopped caring the minute I'd smelled him. All I knew was that I was getting fucked but good and I didn't want it to stop.
I kept hearing a woman moaning and whimpering somewhere nearby. She was so loud, incredibly embarrassing to hear.
"Spike, Spike, Spike, oh, yes, just like that, I'm gonna come so hard, oh, please God, God don't stop oh God!"
She was going to get us caught, begging like that. I tried to move my head, figure out who was screaming like that.
"Day, God, you're wired tight, luv," he whispered in my ear suddenly. "Come on, you need to let go, just let it all go, I want everything. Give it to me--"
He jerked into me hard, and it hurt, but it rubbed my swollen clit just right and I realized the screaming woman was me and I came and came, the entire world splitting in half. Despite the fact I never came that way. Despite the fact I'd already gotten off. And still he didn't stop, he would kill me, I realized, gasping.
"I'm going to die," I whispered. "You're killing me."
He laughed again, a low dangerous chuckle, and flipped us over so that I was on top.
"I can't," I whimpered. "I can't keep going."
"I know you can. Come on, beauty, so what if you die?" he growled, moving his hands up and down my chest. "You know you want to do it again."
So help me God, I did. I started moving up and down, impaling myself over and over on his impossibly hard cock. Even though I was tired, even though my brain was swimming, I felt myself speeding up, trying with every last sensation in my wildly sinning subconscious to make him come as hard as he'd made me. I wanted to bring myself off one more time.
My throat ached from screaming so much. I simply whimpered, feeling my body tense up. I was going to come again. I was going to lose my mind.
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, baby, right there, just a little more," Spike growled. "Give it to me, I need it bad."
I impaled myself a few more times and felt him come, hot and fast and it triggered my third climax. I screamed wordlessly, just feeling the sensation of every bone in my body turning to water. I collapsed on him
"Oh my God," I whispered. That's when somebody knocked at the door.
"Spike, what in the hell are you doing in there? It sounds like you've killed her three times already!" a male voice yelled.
"Screw off," Spike yelled. He looked at me. "Day, get off me and look dead."
"Do it," he hissed at me, throwing me against the headboard. I scrambled back and flopped against the bed, staring as Spike rose, buck-naked, and stalked to the door. He threw it open and that's when I saw for myself there were such things as vampires, and they were ugly motherfuckers at that.
"She's not dead, Spike," the other one said. "What are you doing?"
"Haven't you ever heard of those American agents, the ones who investigate things like us, Trick?"
"Of course I have. Mulder and Scully-- oh. Ohhhh. Hey there, Agent Scully. Nice to meet you."
"Hi," I said, trying to keep my cool, even though the fact I was naked on a bed and frightened for my life made that impossible. "Are you going to kill me?"
"Kill you? Hell no," Trick replied. "I see you're enjoying yourself. I'll just be on my way, pretty lady. Keep up the good work."
With that, he left the room, and Spike spun around. He was a vampire, too. At that point, I fainted.
I woke up with a man's head between my legs, and all sorts of interesting sensations spinning through my body. I kept my eyes closed.
"Good morning, Day," Spike said, moving his head away from my crotch for a moment. "Sleep well?"
"Mmmmm-hmmm," I moaned. "This is a lot better than coffee."
"Think of it as repayment for not screaming when you saw me."
"Oh-- okay, okay, okay, oh GOD," I whimpered, as his mouth descended back onto my center. Vampire or not, he knew how to wake a woman right up. I jerked back against him, feeling every nerve in my body start keening with me. "Don't stop that, ever, please, oh yes!"
I came again, but instead of feeling limp and satiated, I felt awake, alive, and very glad to repay my erstwhile lover. I pulled his head up.
"Don't I still owe you for last night?" I asked. "How would you like it, lover?"
"I'd like it as far inside you as possible, Day," he replied glibly. "Take that to mean whatever you want."
I grinned devilishly and lowered my mouth. "Okay."
I circled him with my lips and then, taking a deep breath, took him in, and started bobbing up and down. Spike seemed to have a terrible time keeping control, especially when my hands decided to do secret doctor things to him. I must give him credit-- he didn't twist his hands in my hair. I hate that. Finally, he came with a shout, and I sucked him off.
"Better?" I asked, bringing my head up. He nodded.
"You have to go," he said. "People will start looking for you."
"Yeah. I don't need Mulder having a freak scene and ruining the best sex of my life. Maybe we can do it again sometime."
"Sunnydale is full of paranormal activity. It shouldn't be so hard to convince your erstwhile partner to investigate," Spike replied. "Day?"
I wandered out on my own, wearing a shirt of his, looking, well, like I'd just been fucked and beaten up. The police picked me up, and they wouldn't listen to anything until I pulled out my badge. Which is how I get back to now. In Mulder's arms, smelling like another man. I can't believe he hasn't screamed at me for what I feel is branded all over me.
"Where were you?"
"I went out last night. Some guy knocked me down. Fortunately, nothing worse happened," I lie. "I'm fine, Mulder."
"You look like--"
"Like what?" I ask. He doesn't reply. I smile up at him.
"Like nothing. You sure that's all that happened?"
"I'm sure, Mulder. So, I hear Sunnydale is a hot spot for all sorts of paranormal activity. Maybe one of these days, we'll have to come back."
Mulder looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Did you hit your head?"
"No, Mulder," I say, smiling mysteriously. "I just was suggesting a possibility."
A possibility I
really want to explore.