Title: in the back of his car

Author: meagan <nutmeg@serv.net>

Summary: A couple of people go for a little drive. Any more would give too much away. I'm not sure there's much of a plot here.

Spoilers: Well, no, none, really. But let's just (more or less arbitrarily) say that it's after "Lovers Walk."

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. I could never come up with characters like this. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB (even though they *really* don't deserve these characters after this week), and anyone else I forgot.

Rating: NC-17, I hope. I'm not good at ratings.

Distribution: Please ask.

Feedback: Please. This is my third try at a smut-type fic. I'm still learning. I'm trying to sort out what the voices in my head want me to do. There are just so *many* of them, telling me all sorts of different things, and I'm not sure which ones to listen to. Feedback would probably help. So would therapy, but I can't afford that right now, so I'll just try to keep on writing.

Note: Lame, lame, lame. The title is from "the only time" by nine inch nails. It was a gorgeous day outside, and I was stuck inside at work, in an office building by myself since everyone else had taken the day off or left early. My mind started wandering, and here's the result. Lyric snippets are from various songs from the album _pretty hate machine_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car. Beautiful. The driver. Even more beautiful. I knew him, of course. He had tried to kill me many times, and I had returned the favor. We were mortal enemies even though only one of us was mortal.

But this was summer. Time to ignore the voices telling me to think before leaping into a situation. Then again, I usually ignored them. This tended to get me into trouble. But I never learned my lesson.

The album he was blasting contrasted with the vehicle but seemed to fit in perfectly with the mood. nine inch nails. "don't take it away from me/ i need someone to hold on to." The car came to a halt next to me.

"Do you think you're going to walk in this town?" Just a question. No threat.

I paused, trying to phrase the answer in a way that will appease him and make him forget me. I turned to look at him, and all words fled my head. "Would you like to give me a ride?" Oh, wonderful. Perfect choice of words.

His response was a chuckle and an open door. "Why don't you find out?"

Oh. My. I could have turned away. I could have climbed in the car and pretended I didn't know what he meant. Or I could have gone along to see how far things would go.

I'll go for what's behind door number three, Monty.

~~~~

We drove in silence for a while. Away from town. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes. It felt like months, but only two songs had consumed the silence, so I'm feeling pretty safe saying it was only ten minutes. Then he suddenly pulled onto a side road not visible from the main street. "She doesn't want me, you know." I nodded like one of those silly statues for your dashboard. What else *could* I do? "She wants *him*."

The cd player agreed with his comments. "she walks me through the nicest parts of hell." I could only sit there in silence, staring at the volume control, hoping he had forgotten who we were and that we were supposed to kill each other. For a bit, it seemed that he had forgotten that I was there. Hey, it kept me part of this world, so I was willing to keep up that ruse. Finally, he reached to the imaginary spot that had me transfixed, shutting the music off.

"But I know one thing that would distract me."

Deserted road, in car with someone who wants you dead. Well, I couldn't say this turn of events was unexpected. We're talking about Sunnydale, after all. And I *had* gotten in the car with him willingly. I should know better.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the strike that was sure to be next. Instead, the sound of a zipper being lowered broke the silence. *His* zipper, of course. At half mast. "Get in the back seat." A simple command. One that should have implied doom but for some reason didn't. I vaulted over the seat, crouching in the well behind the passenger seat before I could stop to ask myself why I was so eager to go along with his directive.

He followed me into the back with much more grace than I had displayed, a low chuckle making it clear that my actions were pleasing to him. He folded a blanket behind his neck and shoulders, leaning against the side panel, stretching out his body along the rest of the bench seat, and looking at me expectantly. My eyes were drawn to his semi-covered groin. And then my fingers followed, finishing the task he had begun moments earlier. I grasped the waistband of his pants, preparing to tell him --ask him -- to lift his hips up so the fabric could be pulled down, but his pelvis levitated before I had a chance. Confused, I looked up to his face. An amused grin greeted me. He was watching me. I was entertaining him. An unfamiliar emotion surged through me. Pride. *I* was putting that grin on his face. I moved, kneeling at the end of the bench seat, my knees between his legs.

Facing his erection, I wasn't sure where to start. There were so many options. Then a low rumbling came from his chest. Hands grasped my scalp, moving my mouth to his cock. I ran my tongue along the underside, tracing the path with my finger. The dim light played fascinating tricks with the saliva path left behind. I was taking my time, stroking and licking, varying speed and pressure, delighting in the vague animal sounds coming from the body under me and the movements that meant someone was about to get happy.

With no warning, he growled and flipped me around, leaning me over the front seat. My pants were quickly unzipped and yanked to the floor. Night air is very cool when it drifts unexpectedly across your bare ass. Especially when fingers apply lube. I reached forward, bracing my hands against the dashboard, preparing for the thrusting sure to follow.

Slowly, so slowly that I thought I was going to scream, he entered me. His fingernails danced along my spine. I was clearly just a body to be used for his pleasure. And, bizarrely, I didn't care.

"lay my hands on Heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars/ while the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car." With a start, I realized I had bumped the cd player's volume control. Sounds like the evening's theme song. I hoped. Except for the sun part, of course. One of us wouldn't survive too long if that happened.

Then the thrusts changed. They became rhythmic. And he began softly chanting along. "this is the only time i really feel alive." A slight change in the rhythm. "i swear i just found everything i need." And then, just when I had decided that this could go ahead and last forever, he came with an undistinguished grunt. "nothing like the feel of something new."

~~~~

He stopped at the end of my driveway. I couldn't decide whether to be nervous -- let's face it, afraid -- or flattered that he knew where I lived without asking. Either way, I was left alone and horny at the doorstep. I'm fairly certain he had deliberately denied my climax specifically so I would search him out another night. Because we both knew I would.

And I needed a drink. Or three. Or maybe just a whole bottle. Or three.

We were mortal enemies. Now I'm not sure.

I should have learned my lesson with Angelus. Brown hair and brown eyes only lead to trouble.

Now I had Xander Harris to get out of my mind, too.

~~~~ the end ~~~~