PAIRING: Spike/Buffy, Giles/ Drusilla, Angel/Cordelia
RATING: NC-17, folks.
SPOILERS: Season 6 through "Wrecked".
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
DEDICATION: For Kimberly. Without you, this would never have happened. Props to Kelly and Chris for the handholding.
AUTHOR"S NOTE: Previous chapters may be found at http://www.geocities.com/jodyorjen/slave.html
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s headed. All of my stories may be found at http://www.willingslave.com
FEEDBACK: I have no dance, sadly, so this is what I do for fun. Please feed my ego and send mail to email@example.com
And she says 'I've come to lighten this dark heart'
And she takes my wrist, I feel her imprint of fear
And I say 'I've never thought of finding you here'
- “Solitude Standing” by Suzanne Vega
I ran my hand gently alongside the long deep gash. "Do you not understand what 'dodge left' means, Slayer?"
"I dodged," she protested as she unfastened her bra.
"No, you rolled your eyes," I corrected. "And the Torloth took the opportunity to stab you with its talons."
"Talon not talons," she muttered.
I slid the tweezers into the wound and Buffy dug her nails into my thigh. "Right," I said dryly. "What was I thinking? He only skewered you a little." She mewled softly as I dug deep, pulling out a thin shard of black talon. "All done now, baby. I'll just clean it up a bit."
I poured alcohol onto a gauze pad and began cleaning the wound. She shivered. "That stings," she said softly. "Can you blow on it?"
I did as she asked, sending a steady warm stream across her skin. Casting the bloodied cotton aside, I ripped open a sterile bandage and pressed the adhesive to her skin, over the wound. I repeated the process three times before I covered the cut that slashed across her back.
She moved away, pulling off her pants and lying down on her side of the bed. I undressed and joined her, pressing a soft kiss above her bandage. I rested my head on her shoulder, listening to our heartbeats, pounding together in time.
Her life was such a fragile tenuous thing. One day, one horrible day, her heart would stop, and it would never beat again. These moments would be lost. I would never feel her touch again, never breathe in the lemony tang of her scent.
"Stop it," she said quietly.
"Stop what?" I asked.
"Worrying. I can hear the wheels whirring in your head. Stop. Worrying. I am fine."
She sighed deeply. "One day, I won't be fine. You know that, I know that. Stop dwelling on it."
The metallic taste of fear filled my mouth. "Can't."
She rolled over to face me, and rested her hand against my cheek. "You know this isn't helping anything." I stared into her eyes and swallowed hard. "You know this makes things harder for me."
"I don't mean to," I told her. "I want you to be happy, love."
"I am happy," she said, smiling wide. "Every minute that I'm with you, every morning we meet together, every patrol with you. It's my life, only better, because I have you. Every moment counts, every day we have is so precious to me." Her eyes filled with tears.
I'd made her cry, with my weakness, my fucking walking daymares. "I'm happy too," I said. "I just can't seem to stop worrying.”
She bit her lip. “You could talk to someone. Cordelia said Angel does the same things. The anxiety, the nightmares are the same. He’s afraid to let her out of his sight.”
“And did the poof go sprawl out on a couch somewhere, get his head examined?”
She laughed. “Mr. Chatty? No. He said he’d deal with it on his own.”
“And so shall I.” She frowned at my determined expression, then rolled on top of me in a fluid motion, pulling my wrists over my head with one hand. Her eyes gleamed with mischief and my body tightened in response. It knew what was coming next.
“Well, you know what I’ll have to do to help this process,” she said. She leaned forward and circled my ear with her tongue.
I shivered, arousal spilling through my bloodstream. “What’s that, love?”
“I’ll just have to fuck every last thought right out of your head,” she purred. She tightened her hold on my wrists until it was deliciously painful, and her head tipped down. She sucked my nipple between her lips and bit down hard. I cried out as she ground her teeth across my tender flesh, pulling and stretching. Her hand clenched around my cock and began to stroke. Everything she did was harsh and jagged, designed to smash down my defenses and sweep away all resistance. A dozen flicks of her wrist and painful bites later, I was lost.
“Oh, please,” I begged. “Please Buffy. Please Buffy.”
“Love you,” she said breathily as she slowly slid down on my stiff cock. Inch by inch she engulfed me in her warmness, clenching and tightening around me.
“Oh, fuck,” I cried out. “Oh, sweetheart. God.” She moved fast, shimmying up and down upon me.
I watched her face, pleasure washing over her features, her rosy mouth agape. “Spike. Spike. Spike.” She chanted my name like a mantra, the end of every syllable a pounding downstroke.
She let go of my wrists and I grabbed her ass in both hands, slamming her down hard on the base of my cock. “Talk. Talk to me.”
She tilted her head back. “Need you need you love you oh god hurt me please.” She whimpered and I took her wrist, biting down hard. The sweet spot, pushing her over. “Gotta come,” she said raggedly. "Oh, please now. Please. Now now now now.”
She leaned her head back, the telltale flush of building orgasm spreading across her chest. I pressed my thumb against her clit and stroked, and we both exploded.
She scratched her nails across my chest, still rambling. “Love you love you never so good oh my...”
I sizzled from my head to my feet, jolted by a cataclysmic release that left me breathless, my heart pounding. “Buffy!”
She collapsed on my chest, still panting. I wrapped my arms around her and she squealed with pain. “Owie back,” she reminded me.
"Sorry, baby,” I murmured.
Post coital twilight descended upon us both. I felt myself drifting into sleep. “I love you,” Buffy said.
“Until the end of the world,” I replied.
I woke up, my mind clear and alert. I turned and checked the clock. Three AM. With a sigh, I got out of bed, making sure to cover the Slayer with the quilt. I kissed her forehead gently and she smiled in her sleep.
Quickly I dressed and opened the door silently. I crept downstairs, pulling my duster off the banister and putting it on. The kitchen light was on, and I saw Dawn, sipping from a mug at the counter. She was fully dressed, her hair tangled.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked.
She startled, nearly spilling her drink. “First day of school tomorrow.” she said. “Too nervous.”
“Go on up to bed when you’re done,” I told her. She hugged me tight and kissed my cheek. A crumpling noise sounded, and she looked at me severely.
“Don’t let Buff catch you smoking,” she warned. “You’ll get the big black lung lecture again, with the slides and everything.”
“Yes, mum,” I said. I flicked her hair back from her neck, displaying a large purple hickey. “Don’t tattle on me, I won’t tattle on you.”
She blushed furiously, and I laughed as I walked out the door.
The moon was high in the sky, and the air was crisp. A slight wind rustled the trees, the only sound I heard. I was alone in all world, a wraith that walked alone in a world of darkness.
A streetlight burnt out with a buzz, a dog barked, and the illusion shattered. My footsteps rang loudly in my ears as I trod the pavement. I crossed the silent field, the swings of the playground twisting in the breeze. Under the familiar archway I strode, and arrived back in the world of the dead. A world that was no longer my home.
It was a slow night. I wandered the paths of the cemetery, but there was nothing stirring in the night. All the vamps and beasties were tucked away, except for me. Then again, now I was just another man who couldn't sleep.
I heard her singing before I saw her. Drusilla was lying on a blanket, looking up at the stars. “Salve Regina,” she sang. “Mater misercordiae. Vita dulcedo et spes nostra salve.” Dru’s soprano was light and clear, full of joy.
She shivered, and I noticed she was wearing only a cotton nightgown. "You have to take care of yourself," I scolded her, taking off my duster and covering her with it. "You don't want to get ill."
I sat down next to her, and she turned to me with a sweet smile. “Do you see her?” I looked up at the clear night sky, the stars twinkling in an indigo infinity.
“What do you see, petal?”
“The Queen,” she said. “Her eyes are so full of love, for she is our mother once more.”
I lay down beside her, crossing my hands underneath my head. “That’s a nice thought, love.”
“I don’t much like the son,” she said. “But his mother is lovely.”
I tried to see what she saw, to feel the love of something larger than me, a loving presence that watched over us all. But all the love I felt was from a girl, a strong sweet girl who had captured my soul.
“She breaks her leg badly. A snap and a crack, and it’s never the same. The lineage is passed to a new girl, and your champion wears a crown of laurel.” She turned to me, her eyes serene. “She will die in her bed, and so will you. Your-“
I pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her. “That’s more than enough, Dru. That’s more than enough to know.”
She looked back up at the stars. “Don’t tell Rupert I told you. He gets very testy about the voices.” She shook her pocket, the sound of pills rattling in a bottle. “He thinks all cures lie with the apothecary.”
Familiar anger rose through me. Pompous ass, unable to accept what he had. Unable to appreciate her gifts. "You deserve more," I argued. “You deserve someone who understands you, who isn’t ashamed of you.” I bit my lip.
"Let things lie, sweet William. Set aside your shield and scabbard. Some battles were never won, or even fought.” She sounded wistful, and I turned to see silver tears spilling over her cheeks.
I wiped them away with a fingertip. "I want you to be happy, Dru. Why stay with someone who refuses to let himself love you?"
Dru patted my hand. "He doesn't have to love me, Spike," she said. "He's not my minion, my possession. It never was the loving back I needed, you know."
“Not like me,” I said quietly. “That was always what I craved from you.”
“I’m sorry about Daddy,” she said. “But now you have your Slayer, and I have my Watcher. The bell rings true; all is as it was meant to be.”
“I love Buffy so much,” I said.
“And so it was destined,” she said happily. “Bound as one, eternally.”
“Not anymore,” I argued. “The bond is gone.”
She laughed loudly. “So very little he knows! He has earned one who is only his.” She claps her hands. “Well played! For Spike does hate to share.” She turned and waved vigorously. “My Angel!”
“Hello, Dru,” says a tired voice. Angel stood beside me, and I scooted over next to Drusilla. He sat down on the blanket with a soft sigh. "Can't sleep."
"We always do seem to wind up here," I replied.
"No rest for the wicked," Drusilla said with a grin.
I pulled out my flask and offered it to Angel. "How's your happily ever after working for you?"
Angel shrugged and took a swig. "Life- it's just as hard as before. Only in a million different ways."
“Of course it’s hard.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “We were all slaves. Slaves to our natures, bound to the roles that we had been forced by destiny to play. Now we are cut loose, our strings dangling. We are free to be what we can be, what we wish."
“The freedom to make mistakes, to fail, to lose,” Angel said bitterly.
"That is part of life," Drusilla observed. "There are no guarantees, no certainties." She pointed up at the sky. "Shifting, changing. But beautiful.”
I lay back on the blanket and looked up at the sky. Drusilla lay down beside me, and a minute later Angel did as well. The infinite stars shone down on us, flooding us with light.
I belonged. Just one man, one scrap of humanity, with a future and a past and a love that pulled it all together and gave it meaning. A love worth living for, no matter what happened next.
“Beautiful,” I agreed.