Angel Moon
Title: Behind Blue Eyes
Rating: R
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Spike
Timeline/Spoilers:: NRP/ Anythings fair game.
Genre: Humor, General
A/N: Unbeta'd and actually quite random.. >.>;;;
Sky blue, that was the last thing he could remember before the roar of the thunder awoke him from his sleep, or more like afternoon nap while the rays on the sun beat down on the top of his mobile heater, the bloody thing was hotter then being unable to take off your leather jacket for fearing of 'loosing' it at Mosh Nite at the Bronze. An excuse for horny teenagers to ru- fuck through their clothing on a dance floor about 20 people over packed considering it's size, eck. As if they needed any excuse to molest each other in public, a hand down the front of your dance partner's pants was all fine and dandy, but a unknown sweaty body pressed up against your back, panting with bad breath in your ear sounded to much like a bad horror movie.
The heat threaten to strangling the breath out of him, as for a spilt second the master vampire could swear that his heart was beating again while he half expected the see a carriage pull up beside him, but instead it was a police car that had seen definitely seen better days, while the cop had seen a few too many doughnuts.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you move your car. This area is a rest stop, not a camp ground." Ha ha ha, so this arse-hole thought he was a comedian, his only reply was to roll the window down just enough so that his middle finger was clearly displayed to the over weight enforcer of the law. The man was less then amused, much to the blonde's delight.
"Sir, Please don't make me ask you again or I will be forced to take you in due to incompliance." The only thing that statement brought to mind were a mental image of metal hand-cuffs, then of Angelus using those hand-cuffs to his advantage in the fullest possible measures. He still wasn't sure if he had been able to sit down for the next week with out wincing and shifting all and all leading to a very proud sire. Refusing to even acknowledge the officer, the only movement was for him to lift his foot and press down the nearest automatic lock, effectively closing off the entire car as the cop reached with one pudgy hand in hopes of opening the door. In hopes he could waddle back to his sorry excuse of a scrap heap and speeding toward the nearest Krispy Kreme’s to miss the afternoon rush.
Close to drifting off again, rapid knocking on the on the outside of his car stopped and destroyed all hope of him being able to peacefully pass out again. Growling under his breath, the sunlight and ever pending threat of being exposed to a serve amount of skin cancer and dislike for the smell of charcoal were the only things holding him back from bursting through the window and twisting the doughnut addict's neck. All it would take would be one quick flick of the wrist and the world would be rid of one last dumb-arse, they should pay him for raising the world's IQ but no, one of the most powerful creatures on the planet running from the sun.
Sitting up and turning to direct his glare through the tinted window at the man, if only looks could kill. Placing one pale hand on the key and cranking up the engine as be blew out of the pit stop not even trying to abide my the speed limit and by the looks of it no one was going to bother to stop him. Both a blessing and a curse, with the sun setting behind him it would be a half and hour at the most before all the bad little boys and girls could come out to play. Not a chance was Spyke going to make it The Kingdom of Neon Lights and False Promises with out a packet of cigs and wallet full of cash, both able to supply at the closest gas station. Reaching down to flip on the radio, completely slipping his mind that the stations changed as he pulled over the state border. What was once old 80's rock of the British invasion was transformed in Celine Dion belting out some past hit. The shock nearly caused him to run of the side of the road, swerving heavily and skidding across the paved road and scaring the piss out of a jack-rabbit chillin' on the side of the road.
Regaining his balance, the next rapid movement was to bang the radio off his the hell of his boot with the use of unnecessary force to shut it off, not even going to risk just changing it to another channel. He could feel his ears bleeding at what a few seconds of that poison had managed to accomplish. The only time that he has heard the strains of that song was the day he decided it would be a good idea to chance a nap in the back of a empty theater showing some movie called Titanic. Not only did he loose his lunch during the first half of the movie, but after finally falling asleep he was awaken with a painful hard on at the sound of terror filled screams. Safe to say, by the time the movie was over Spyke was stuck dealing with a woody in the little boy's room. One of his more pleasant encounters was when the local girl scouts decided that selling cookies after dark was a good way to boost profits. The cookies were pretty delicious as well. After five years, he still had figured out where the sudden craving came from after spotting a box of Thin Mints, damn things were filled with blood or cocaine, maybe a mixture of both. Yes, that had to be it!
Pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal, flooring it with ice blue eyes focused on the road. Spyke took no notice of the desert scenery flying past him at warp speeds after he caught sight of a sign advertising the next rest stop, complete with gas station. A evil smirk took over his thin lips as one hand reached up to removed the sun glasses, eye glinting gold as they immediately adjusted to the darkness. Removing them from his face, a pleasant surprise landed in him lap in the form of a hidden cig tucked behind his ear. Placing it between his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other reached over in the glove compartment and dug another. Fingertips brushing again the hard metal surface of her Zippo, he pulled it out and with a flick of the wrist opened it and lit the end of his cig. Dropping the small metal possession onto the pocket of his leather jacket, before swapping hands on the steering wheel and used it to roll open the window. Leaning back and enjoying as the wind rushed into the cab of his car, the master vampire blew down the road at top speeds to reach what ever lay at the end of the yellow brick road in the emerald city that never sleeps.
