Updates and Outtakes
Oct. 12th, 2004 01:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Well, I finally got an all-in-one-page version of Dirty Back Road up and formatted on the Just Stake Me site; the fanfiction section there also has a couple of
toysdream's ficlets and some of my older stuff. One of these days, I'll get myself motivated to format Bad Trip and work with Toys on the DVD commentary track. Be good motivation for getting back to working on Bad Eurotrip.
Meanwhile, here's a little outtake ficlet from "Dirty Back Road," taken from an earlier version of the ending in which I was planning to go a little heavier into the cheerless sex of Season 6. I was originally going to post this for
magista's birthday, but tech troubles have kept me from doing much by way of file moving and big posts. Sigh.
Anyway, rated R, set during "DoubleMeat Palace."
Buffy got a job. She couldn't really avoid it anymore, not with her money situation. Took the first thing she could get, in no mood for even trying to bluff her way through a real interview, making up qualifications she knew she didn't have. So, fast food. After all, Xander had gotten plenty of those jobs. How hard could it be?
Plus she got a free uniform. And free food, while she was working. Bonus.
It was honest work. Good, honest work. Boring, sure, but honest. There was a certain amout of general creepiness and grease, but hey, that was why she was getting paid.
Her feet hurt a lot.
Her friends stopped by, on her second day, all big with the support. That was nice, really--even with the balancing factor of them seeing her standing behind a counter in her dorky polyester clothes. It was just... good to have someone to talk to that she knew. Who understood why she needed to do this.
Except for... oh, speak of the devil.
Spike found out where she was working. It took him no more than two days, which made her wonder about how much he was still following her, or her friends, or whether Dawn still talked to him--she'd have to ask about that. But however he'd managed to find out, obviously he had to make an appearance too, smirking and smiling and asking about the menu while wearing a nice sweater, just what she didn't need. Apparently, this was what she got for agreeing to work night hours. The universe probably figured it served her right.
So, sure, even Spike had to see her wearing this dumb uniform. Worse, because it was him, he didn't even bother trying to put a nice shine on the job sitch like the others had, but went straight for the puppy dog eyes and a argument of what are you doing here, you're better than this. Again, just what she didn't need. Although he would know, wouldn't he, having seen better days himself. And now he wasn't the only one on the decline anymore, was he? God knew her next epitaph probably wasn't going to be as good as her last one.
She sold french fries a lot.
Hearing him say it, though--you're better than this--that kinda made it worse.
So she told him to leave. Made him go away.
Only he stopped by again later that night. Stopped by and... looked at her.
She nearly tripped over herself rushing to meet him out back.
She was just so... bored with everything--herself, the place, and he was there. He was Spike, all that was huge and important in her life in one package. How could she not want that, not want something that made her feel, if only for a moment, like she was better than this.
And he was so willing--god, was he ever, willing to let her fumble with his clothes and her own, and then do her right there in the back alley, pressed up against the wall like their first time, the rough bricks scraping against her bare ass. At least like this she was worth something. Something to him, anyway.
But she wasn't getting off. Not this time. Because he was right, she was better than this, they both were. It wasn't the place or the moment, the fifteen-minute rush or the grease smell that clung to her skin, it was...
They were better than this.
This wasn't them. Not... sad and miserable and quiet. They should be... loud and passionate and rough, because that way was strong, that way was fighting, that was... being alive.
This wasn't... this wasn't what she needed from him.
Her break time was up. She loosened her legs around his waist, tried to slip away.
Spike tightened his grip. He'd been distant for the last few mintues, silent. Not looking at her--inside her, but still faraway. She hadn't been able to look at him either, just clung to his shoulders and hid inside the folds of his coat, feeling tiny and somehow safe.
"Not yet," he whispered, a low rumble like a growl. He slipped a hand between them, and she wriggled.
"Not now--I have to go," she whispered. "Fifteen minutes... my break--"
"Not yet," he said again, one hand pressed between their bodies, one hand cupped under her, holding her up. His fingers caressed her, ruthlessly.
"I have to go," she insisted.
"No." His fingers, stroking. Lips on her neck now. "You're not ready yet."
"I--I'm--I can't--" And then he sucked on her neck hard, like he had that other night, and she clutched at his shoulders harder, feeling something leap inside her. He had her pinned, against the wall, mouth at her throat, and she... oh god...
She felt like the victim in some cheesy vampire movie, in thrall. Her clit burned.
"D-Don't--" she said weakly. He didn't answer. Just pressed against her harder, her body completely hidden behind his, only her white face visible over his shoulder. She looked up at the sky, shuddering, her heartbeat hammering rapid, a tense pulsebeat in her throat.
When she came back to herself, there were sparks in front of her eyes. These slowly faded into stars--she was still looking upward, at the sky. Her toes were curled inside her shoes, and her thighs were trembling, drenched and slick.
Feeling dazed and numb, she uncoiled her legs and lowered her feet to the ground.
"Come see me later," Spike whispered then, lips at her ear. He was close to her now, no longer far away, liquid eyes staring right into hers. His thumbs brushed her cheeks. "Come to me, Buffy," he murmured. "Come see me. We'll finish this right." Soft kisses on her eyelids--first one, then the other. "Come see me."
"I--I--" Buffy panted, caught her breath. Wet trails were running down her legs. Little disadvantage to the whole experience of having sex standing up. She tried fruitlessly to smooth her wrinkled pants, plotted an immediate course to the bathroom once she was back inside.
God, what am I doing out here?
It still shocked her, the intensity he could bring out in her, even a quick, dirty little encounter like this. She had no idea how it was even possible, the way she could just let herself go...
"Come see me, Buffy," Spike said again. Pulled her close, kissed her breathless. The rough scrape of polyester against her skin faded as a sensation; only the press of his body against hers mattered. Her skin felt hot.
She clung to his arms, hands shaking, let him kiss her.
"I'll be there," she whispered when he pulled back from her. She got her hands in between them, made him give her some distance, smoothed her hair with trembling fingers.
Yes, she wanted to finish this. Yes. Lay down on his bed and feel the rest of him, feel his tongue, kiss that mouth some more. The silk of his skin and the softness of sheets.... oh yes, she wanted it. And... she'd already told Dawn and Willow she'd be working overtime. They wouldn't expect her home until late.
She pushed at him then, with her hands, made him back away. "Go on, go home. Just go. Go. I'll see you at--at your place. Later."
"Later, alright. See you then," he said softly, and melted back into the shadows just beyond the tacky motivational poster pasted to the wall, ironically right above the dumpster. Teamwork.
With a tired sigh, a warm glow in her belly at the thought of what they'd do together later, she turned around and went inside.
The door slammed behind her with a metallic clang, sealing her in.
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Meanwhile, here's a little outtake ficlet from "Dirty Back Road," taken from an earlier version of the ending in which I was planning to go a little heavier into the cheerless sex of Season 6. I was originally going to post this for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Anyway, rated R, set during "DoubleMeat Palace."
Buffy got a job. She couldn't really avoid it anymore, not with her money situation. Took the first thing she could get, in no mood for even trying to bluff her way through a real interview, making up qualifications she knew she didn't have. So, fast food. After all, Xander had gotten plenty of those jobs. How hard could it be?
Plus she got a free uniform. And free food, while she was working. Bonus.
It was honest work. Good, honest work. Boring, sure, but honest. There was a certain amout of general creepiness and grease, but hey, that was why she was getting paid.
Her feet hurt a lot.
Her friends stopped by, on her second day, all big with the support. That was nice, really--even with the balancing factor of them seeing her standing behind a counter in her dorky polyester clothes. It was just... good to have someone to talk to that she knew. Who understood why she needed to do this.
Except for... oh, speak of the devil.
Spike found out where she was working. It took him no more than two days, which made her wonder about how much he was still following her, or her friends, or whether Dawn still talked to him--she'd have to ask about that. But however he'd managed to find out, obviously he had to make an appearance too, smirking and smiling and asking about the menu while wearing a nice sweater, just what she didn't need. Apparently, this was what she got for agreeing to work night hours. The universe probably figured it served her right.
So, sure, even Spike had to see her wearing this dumb uniform. Worse, because it was him, he didn't even bother trying to put a nice shine on the job sitch like the others had, but went straight for the puppy dog eyes and a argument of what are you doing here, you're better than this. Again, just what she didn't need. Although he would know, wouldn't he, having seen better days himself. And now he wasn't the only one on the decline anymore, was he? God knew her next epitaph probably wasn't going to be as good as her last one.
She sold french fries a lot.
Hearing him say it, though--you're better than this--that kinda made it worse.
So she told him to leave. Made him go away.
Only he stopped by again later that night. Stopped by and... looked at her.
She nearly tripped over herself rushing to meet him out back.
She was just so... bored with everything--herself, the place, and he was there. He was Spike, all that was huge and important in her life in one package. How could she not want that, not want something that made her feel, if only for a moment, like she was better than this.
And he was so willing--god, was he ever, willing to let her fumble with his clothes and her own, and then do her right there in the back alley, pressed up against the wall like their first time, the rough bricks scraping against her bare ass. At least like this she was worth something. Something to him, anyway.
But she wasn't getting off. Not this time. Because he was right, she was better than this, they both were. It wasn't the place or the moment, the fifteen-minute rush or the grease smell that clung to her skin, it was...
They were better than this.
This wasn't them. Not... sad and miserable and quiet. They should be... loud and passionate and rough, because that way was strong, that way was fighting, that was... being alive.
This wasn't... this wasn't what she needed from him.
Her break time was up. She loosened her legs around his waist, tried to slip away.
Spike tightened his grip. He'd been distant for the last few mintues, silent. Not looking at her--inside her, but still faraway. She hadn't been able to look at him either, just clung to his shoulders and hid inside the folds of his coat, feeling tiny and somehow safe.
"Not yet," he whispered, a low rumble like a growl. He slipped a hand between them, and she wriggled.
"Not now--I have to go," she whispered. "Fifteen minutes... my break--"
"Not yet," he said again, one hand pressed between their bodies, one hand cupped under her, holding her up. His fingers caressed her, ruthlessly.
"I have to go," she insisted.
"No." His fingers, stroking. Lips on her neck now. "You're not ready yet."
"I--I'm--I can't--" And then he sucked on her neck hard, like he had that other night, and she clutched at his shoulders harder, feeling something leap inside her. He had her pinned, against the wall, mouth at her throat, and she... oh god...
She felt like the victim in some cheesy vampire movie, in thrall. Her clit burned.
"D-Don't--" she said weakly. He didn't answer. Just pressed against her harder, her body completely hidden behind his, only her white face visible over his shoulder. She looked up at the sky, shuddering, her heartbeat hammering rapid, a tense pulsebeat in her throat.
When she came back to herself, there were sparks in front of her eyes. These slowly faded into stars--she was still looking upward, at the sky. Her toes were curled inside her shoes, and her thighs were trembling, drenched and slick.
Feeling dazed and numb, she uncoiled her legs and lowered her feet to the ground.
"Come see me later," Spike whispered then, lips at her ear. He was close to her now, no longer far away, liquid eyes staring right into hers. His thumbs brushed her cheeks. "Come to me, Buffy," he murmured. "Come see me. We'll finish this right." Soft kisses on her eyelids--first one, then the other. "Come see me."
"I--I--" Buffy panted, caught her breath. Wet trails were running down her legs. Little disadvantage to the whole experience of having sex standing up. She tried fruitlessly to smooth her wrinkled pants, plotted an immediate course to the bathroom once she was back inside.
God, what am I doing out here?
It still shocked her, the intensity he could bring out in her, even a quick, dirty little encounter like this. She had no idea how it was even possible, the way she could just let herself go...
"Come see me, Buffy," Spike said again. Pulled her close, kissed her breathless. The rough scrape of polyester against her skin faded as a sensation; only the press of his body against hers mattered. Her skin felt hot.
She clung to his arms, hands shaking, let him kiss her.
"I'll be there," she whispered when he pulled back from her. She got her hands in between them, made him give her some distance, smoothed her hair with trembling fingers.
Yes, she wanted to finish this. Yes. Lay down on his bed and feel the rest of him, feel his tongue, kiss that mouth some more. The silk of his skin and the softness of sheets.... oh yes, she wanted it. And... she'd already told Dawn and Willow she'd be working overtime. They wouldn't expect her home until late.
She pushed at him then, with her hands, made him back away. "Go on, go home. Just go. Go. I'll see you at--at your place. Later."
"Later, alright. See you then," he said softly, and melted back into the shadows just beyond the tacky motivational poster pasted to the wall, ironically right above the dumpster. Teamwork.
With a tired sigh, a warm glow in her belly at the thought of what they'd do together later, she turned around and went inside.
The door slammed behind her with a metallic clang, sealing her in.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-12 09:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:35 am (UTC)Thank you. : )
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:39 am (UTC)Thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-12 09:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-12 10:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-12 10:43 pm (UTC)Makes me feel you're not so down on S/B in canon after all -- I know you, like many of us, found the ``love story'' of season 7 awfully disappointing, leading you to saying you wouldn't want to write post-finale S/B.... but look at your last chapter of Dirty Back Roads! You haven't given up on them. ; }
This is lovely, powerful writing. You really do both of them justice and it takes a lot for me to say that these days!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:49 am (UTC)I'll never be able to keep up my street cred as a cranky old complainer at this rate, will I? ; )
But thanks for your lovely praise... you really make it sound better than I thought it was when I posted it. I hadn't even really noticed the repeating phrases, although obviously I did them that way on purpose, had something in mind for the effect... maybe writing really is a sort of possession by creative forces.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-12 10:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 03:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-13 05:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 09:03 am (UTC)This is great - I think you've really got inside their relationship. You've really pinned the dichotomy within Spike - is he solely there for Buffy, for her pleasure, to make her feel better about herself beyond anything else or is he just completely selfish and unaware of her life and the demands on her?
You can't tell if he's making her stay for her or for him - and I think that's what underpins their relationship in S6.
Congrats!!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 02:08 am (UTC)Glad you liked!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 01:13 pm (UTC)Exactly!
This wasn't them. Not... sad and miserable and quiet. They should be... loud and passionate and rough, because that way was strong, that way was fighting, that was... being alive. Yes and Spike was the anchor that kept her going day by day.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 02:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 07:36 pm (UTC)It has that power that makes me love season 6 so fervently...
Oh, my word power is failing miserably. I'll just go and add it to my memories.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 02:15 am (UTC)Because this is the Spike who talked to Buffy in 'Dead Things' on the balcony, but also the one who waited for her later in his crypt and didn't understand why she left.
It's those kind of contradictions that I love.
Thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-16 06:45 am (UTC)[...]he didn't even bother trying to put a nice shine on the job sitch like the others had, but went straight for the puppy dog eyes and a argument of what are you doing here, you're better than this. Again, just what she didn't need. Although he would know, wouldn't he, having seen better days himself.
How you view Spike's earlier visit and motivations really depends on whether you agree with Buffy's POV here. You could read Spike's motivation as "I'm going downhill and you're coming with me." The reason I put the more positive spin on Spike is that I do not believe Buffy here. I'm not even sure if Buffy really believes what she's telling herself. It wouldn't be the first time.
On the other hand, he did return when she told him to stay away, he wouldn't let her go when she needed to return to work, and you could argue that he ignores what she wants when she says "no". Spike could be seen as reeling her in with the one (and maybe only) thing he knew would work--sex. The other question in my mind was when Buffy's "no" means "no", and whether Spike really knows what she needs better than she does.
something that made her feel, if only for a moment, like she was better than this.
This told us a lot. I'm not hearing the Buffy who said she felt degraded by her first night with Spike. This also doesn't fit with my impression of the alley scene in the episode, when she looked to me as if she was wishing she would just die and get it over with.
Only he stopped by again later that night.[...] She nearly tripped over herself rushing to meet him out back.
It sounds like Spike does have a better idea of what she wants--or what she says she wants--than she does. It sounds like anything but "no".
"Come see me. We'll finish this right." Soft kisses on her eyelids--first one, then the other. "Come see me."
This did it for me. This may be what he wants, but it's also about what he wants for her and that doesn't fit with the selfish view of Spike. (To me, this affected everything else in the scene.)
I always felt that the alley scene added a terrible note of despair to the episode. Buffy seemed to be at a new low--yielding to temptation in the alley but seeming to hate herself for it. What I loved about your story is that it filled in the blanks in a way that made the entire situation more hopeful and life-affirming, as another person put it. And I loved the small details like this one:
"Later, alright. See you then," he said softly, and melted back into the shadows just beyond the tacky motivational poster pasted to the wall, ironically right above the dumpster. Teamwork.
I really enjoyed your story and I'm impressed on how seamlessly it fits the actual episode. I'd love to see more Fill in the Blank fic from you.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-17 04:01 pm (UTC)My general take on Spike tends to be from the operates-on-instinct school - it's why I have a hard time with the "evil tempter" model, because I don't see him as setting out to do that sort of thing on purpose. Doing it, sure - like we see in "Dead Things," he's perfectly capable of playing the you-want-this-don't-you-dirty-girl? card, but to me that's just Spike flying on gut instinct the way he always does. He adjusts to situations based on what his senses tell him; when he makes actual thought-out plans, he tends to get distracted or bored, can't stick to them. So I almost never can view Spuffy in any situation as calculated, because I simply don't think that's the way Spike is. Or Buffy either, for that matter.
So on the balcony in "Dead Things"? My read is he's there already, probably watching her with her pals. Sees her come up, start doing exactly what he was doing, watching her pals from above. Starts commenting on how they're alike, how she belongs in the darkness with him. Then getting with the sexy sex, 'cause obviously Buffy is there, with him, hello... but I think he's really trying to respond to her cues there, the way her actions and words don't match up. So yeah, you guessed it, I was trying to evoke a bit of that same sort of thing in this little fic.
I may see what I can do about a few more fill in the blanks; I'm pleased as punch you'd want to see more. I hadn't really thought of doing such a thing before until you mentioned it - I've been working on these long sagas lately. Thanks for the suggest!