bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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Carnivale Mystique

Title: Carnivale Mystique
24/42
Author: BmblBee
Rating: NC17
Paring: S/X
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or products named in this
story and make no profit from it.

Summary: A mysterious carnival appears on the outskirts of Sunnydale.
Despite the sudden disappearance of townspeople and pets, Xander is
intrigued and wants a closer look. What he gets is more than he could
have imagined.

This story is based on a suggested story idea from the lovely Mystic Oblivion.




As always, thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the banners that put the perfect
visual to my words.


Buffy checked herself again in the mirror. Her neckline was dangerously
low and her hemline obscenely high. It had taken hours to find the fine line
that bordered between teenage fashion and street walker slut.
She glided down that line like a circus tightrope walker, landing fully on
neither side.

She had decided, along with Giles that the best thing to do, was to wait
till sun up and go to the carnival then. With her watcher at her side,
Buffy would find the vampire's sleeping nest and kill them all before they
had the chance to rise again.

Which gave her tonight free.

With her Mother tied up at a meeting at the art gallery, Buffy had given her
solemn word that she would stay in, doors locked and windows closed.
As the Slayer, Buffy was above such silly promises. She could not be held
to petty, human expectations. She was who she was and could not be
ordered about.

And with that in mind, Buffy's thoughts were on a certain older, dark
haired stranger. "Angel" She watched herself whisper the name into the
mirror on her vanity. She liked the way her red, painted lips looked when
it slightly puckered on the last syllable.

He was so different from the immature high school boys she saw every day.
Tall, filled out and muscular, she just knew he would be the perfect one to
see her into womanhood. And kind. Buffy prided herself on being an excellent
judge of character and there was no doubt that Angel was a gentle man.

'Oh, yes.' She thought. 'He is all man.' She was certain that he was the one who
would fill and complete that yawning need inside her. That place that nothing with
batteries could really reach and satisfy.

When the last of the sun finally disappeared from the flat horizon, Buffy knew it
was time. She suddenly developed a severe case of the butterflies and her
palms felt damp. Before she had the chance to talk herself out of it, she rushed
down the steps and out the front door.

10th and Martin. That was the street corner where she had seen him and that
was the only place she knew to go. She wished she had gotten a bit more
information from him. Like, what was his last name? Where did he work?
Who were the friends he was here to visit? The question of whether or not there
was a wife or even a girlfriend was moot. She didn't want to marry him, just bed
him. And it wasn't like he could be faithful to someone else or resist her. After all,
she was the Slayer. The one in the world, and that gave her certain privileges.

Within minutes, she had arrived. The street was deserted, dark and looked
for all the world as if the town had been abandoned. She knew Larry's
disappearance had everyone spooked. Even the priests at St. Mary's were
double locking the stained glass windows.

Slowly, Buffy began pacing, from the corner of Martin, down 10th to the
corner of Lawrence and back again. It gave her time to think and decide
what to do next to find him. After hitting Lawrence on the second pass,
a car pulled up along side her and the driver inside rolled down the window.

Assuming the man was looking for directions, Buffy walked over and leaned
in the passenger's side window. It was a move that gave an unobstructed view
of her small but perky breasts.

"Hi. You looking for something?"

The man glanced all around her before licking his lips nervously.
"Yeah. I wondered if you wanted a date."

Buffy blinked in confusion.
"Actually, yeah, I am out here hoping for a date."

The small man with the bald head and glasses grinned.
"How much?"

"How much what?"

The driver felt nervous and twitchy. He knew this was a delicate game
of verbal chess. If she was a decoy and he said the wrong thing, his
wife Mable would be using her cookie jar money to bail him out of jail.

But, if this was legit, and he had the chance at this piece of sweet young
meat, those red, painted lips wrapped around the shaft of his full 3 inches,
maybe a poke at her ass hole, it just might be worth it.

"Everything. I want all of it."
"What? All of what?"

With his frustration growing, the man hit the wall moment of a total what the
fuck. As his grammy used to say, in for a penny, in for a dime and he went for it.

"How much for a blow job? I'll pay extra if you let me taste your pussy first.
You got a room around here? I don't mind fucking you in my backseat but this
is Mable's car and she might smell you, especially if you let me prick your ass.
Mable don't like it up the ass, so I guess that is what I really want. So how
much? Do you take credit cards? Checks?"

Finally the light bulb in her dim brain switched on and Buffy let out a screech
of outrage. She dove through the half opened window, her french manicured
nails scratching and clawing in an attempt to reach and rip him to shreds.

At the last second, his life and cahoonas were saved when, from out of
nowhere, two strong arms wrapped around her waist and jerked her back.
With a loud squeal of the tires, the car sped off into the night, the driver
feeling lucky to still be alive with his short manhood still safely tucked
in his Dockers.

Angelus had watched the whole thing from across the street, rolling with
laughter. This had to be the stupidest slayer he had ever encountered.
She held no resemblance to the earlier slayers who were strong, determined,
self assured, focused and had a bit of personal pride.

This slayer was a twit. Which, for Angelus, worked out just fine.

"Let me go! God damn you son of a bitch!"
Buffy continued to struggle, kick and try to pry the man's hands from around
her waist. It never occurred to her that a mortal man should not have been
able to confine or control her so easily. The second he set her down, she
whirled around, fists raised. When she recognized him, her hands dropped
and her demeanor flipped like a toggle switch.

"Oh, Angel, thank God it was you. That mean man tried to kidnap me. He
tried to pull me through the car window and have his way with me. Oh, I was
so frightened. You saved me. What can I possibly do to show my gratitude?"

Angelus swooped his arm around her small waist and slammed their bodies
together. He was tired of this game. He had been dreaming of fucking and
drinking the blood of a slayer all day. He would have her tonight.

"Take me somewhere. Invite me into your home and your body and you
can show me just how grateful you really are."

Buffy swooned at the pure romance of his words and together they
hurried off towards her home. It amazed her how much the sexual charge
that ran through her felt so akin to her vampire warning bell.
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