This little ficlet was inspired by this comment by the ubiquitous elisi: "Also Spike points out that he's been driving since before her [Buffy's] grandparents were born, and that doesn't go down well either..." . 304 words, Spike/Drusilla, rated 12.
Learning to drive
“Ooh. It purrs like a big kitten!”
“That’d be the engine, love.”
“It makes my insides tingle, it does. But it smells like death.”
“No, that’s not the car you’re smelling, it’s the dead body on the back seat. I thought I asked you to get rid of it?”
Drusilla whimpered plaintively, “But I might get hungry again!”
He just managed to stop the sigh escaping his lips. “We can get you another one. With this little beauty, we can go anywhere we choose. Always assuming I can get the bloody thing to work...”
Once again, Spike struggled with the incomprehensible tangle of levers, buttons and pedals. With a nonchalance that was almost entirely feigned, he pushed a combination he hadn’t tried yet – and almost jumped clean out of the car as the engine started to make a hideous loud grinding noise, accompanied by the hot smell of tortured metal. He hastily returned the controls to their previous position and hit the steering wheel hard enough to dent its rim.
Then he felt Drusilla tap his left leg, and point down at something. “I think the kitty’s clutching too hard. You’ve got to push it or it won’t run away.”
Spike regarded her dubiously; but one thing he’d learned over the last 20 years was that the less sense Dru made, the more likely she was to be right. So he followed her instructions…
…and barely managed to turn the wheel and dodge an oncoming coal wagon as the car shot off down the street, faster than a horse could gallop. The wind tousled his hair, and beside him Dru was bouncing up and down in her seat, excitedly chanting “Faster! Faster!” He threw back his head and whooped in wild exultation.
Oh, he just knew the 20th century was going to be fun!