Spider to the Fly
Spider to the FlyAuthor:
LisaStatus: 14/100Chapter List: Previous Chapters Rating:
BtVS/CSICharacter(s) and/or Pairing(s):
Buffy Summers/Nick StokesGenre:
He’d been crouched for almost an hour, watching as they
Prompt #005: Pets. Written for Spoilers/Warnings:
All seasons of Buffy and CSI are usedBeta
: Ava, any mistakes are my own. Thank you hun.Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon & ME. No infringement intended. CSI
and all related characters are copyright of Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television & CBS. No infringement intendedDistribution:
Not without permission from myself.AN:
Huge apologies for the delay. Real life along with motherhood has currently been kicking my butt. Thanks to those that are sticking it through!
Revulsion and lust danced together in the pit of his stomach, churned it uncomfortably. “Cops and their fucking kits,” he ground out the words in a quiet whisper. The sweet copper taste of life lingered on his tongue and burst into existence as he worried on the inside his cheek.
He’d been crouched for almost an hour, watching as they
collected evidence. Slowly, with the grace of a skilled hunter he stretched out his cramped leg without rustling a leaf. Blood began to flow through the limb and slowly it pushed away the numbness.
Logic or survival screamed at him to leave, to go before the cops found him hiding. He knew they’d brought hounds earlier to check the perimeter, so predictable they were. Still, what if one of them decided to venture into the woods? Take a piss or try to chase off one of the damn seagulls that kept swooping down. Scavengers, he hated them.
With a shake of his head he pushed that thought aside. He knew their procedures and methods; they’d focus on what remained of the girl. Wouldn’t dare containment the scene by reliving themselves. No, he was safe here.
His eyes drifted towards the corpse. Torn up like a present, his present. She tasted better then the last; thrilled him in way that none of the others had, so he’d taken his time. Held off the inner beast until his body hummed with delicious anticipation and her screams beckoned him. Spurred him to come once more as he relinquished control to his new friend. He remembered as he peaked that uncontrollable pain. The way his bones shifted and broke, he’d heard the cracking before the brilliant white pain cut through the pleasurable haze. His jaw had stretched and teeth, that could easily cut through flesh and muscle, bore down on her exposed throat. Her warm blood had spurted into his jaw while his long wet tongue lapped it up, eagerly.
A strong jolt of lust shot through him, he felt himself grow hard. The primal urge for release was strong, so tempting.
“Catherine! I’ve got what looks like a tooth.”
Narrowing his eyes he moved his hand away from his groin. The male CSI, the one who’d arrived an hour ago was bent a few feet from the body. He lifted his hand and yes, there was a tooth. His tongue moved over the bottom row of his teeth and found an empty space where his left canine should’ve been.
Fury stormed inside, his fingers curled into a tight fist and bit into the flesh of his palm. He’d always been so careful, so fucking careful.
Minutes passed as he watched the CSI-s systematically move about. The fucker who found his tooth snapped a few dozen pictures of it before he placed it in a plastic bag. The girl he’d been watching first jotted information down on some clipboard. She’d spent a lot of time surveying around the body. Bitch wouldn’t find anything. The tooth was their only find and that wasn’t a mistake he intended to make again.
There was nothing they could do with a tooth. He wasn’t in the system, no way for them to track him. He’d refrain from going to the dentist; find a way to fill the space. The Internet, there was sure to be a homemade way to make your own teeth. Hell, you could build a fucking bomb using Google.
Satisfied, he moved quietly through the woods the same way he came in. Ducking under branches and creeping through underbrush, it took him almost thirty minutes before he broke through into a secluded meadow.
A few deep breaths calmed him enough to feel the warmth of companionship. Cain was where he’d left him. A low whistle brought his wolf hybrid dog to his side. Its large tongue lolled to the side, panting from the heat.
Lacking the grace he’d used moments ago he flopped to the ground. Cain nuzzled his neck as his large fingers found Cain’s favorite spot behind his ear. “Good boy. Feel like going hunting tonight pal? I’m sure we can find some sweet young thing to ease this hunger. You hungry?”
Cain responded with a loud howl. His sour mood had lifted and standing once more he picked up the sturdy leash that was clipped to the collar.
The paths near the beach were filled with people. Girls covered in small pieces of fabric were sprawled on large colorful towels soaking up the sun while their skin slowly darkened. Men toss the pigskin around, trying to get the attention of those girls without looking like they cared.
He stifled the mocking laugh that begged to be released. They were all so simple and the metaphor of bees and flowers danced around his mind.
Cain tugged on the thick leash.
“Alright.” Bending down he unclipped the metal clasp from Cain’s collar. The hybrid jumped and raced around him for a few moments, relishing in the freedom before he dove off into the woods.
Patiently he waited and within a minute he was back, a large stick daggled from his mouth. Cain dropped it by his feet and he picked it up. It was the start of the ritual. Women couldn’t resist a man and his ‘dog’, despite the fact that Cain was more wolf than dog. It would only take five or ten minutes before a few of them would saunter over, curious about Cain and finding him endearing.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, anticipation began to build as he casually looked around and a streak of blonde zipped by on a watercraft. He grinned as watched her, she was both petite and lithe. She maneuvered the machine with perfect grace and in response he felt himself stir. She could be the one.
“What a beautiful dog!” The voice pulled him back and he turned. A brunette stood a few feet away. Her hip jutted out to the side, a delicate hand rested on it. Teal blue fabric covered her up and she flashed a smile.
His lips curled into a big smile. “Thanks, most women are scared of his size but really, he’s just a big doof.” He whistled and Cain came running back, dropping the stick at his feet.
“What’s his name?” She crouched down, her curved bottom and chest created a perfect silhouette.
“Uh… Cain.” A chuckle pushed through his lips. “Not the friendliest name, I picked him up at a shelter. He was going to be euthanized.” Her shocked and disgusted gasp was what he expected. He’d perfected this part of the hunt.~fin~
Completed: July 6, 2009