The theory was simple: torture a human then turn them and
use them to rule the world. Buffy smiled as Angelus sprinkled the cheerful
yellow concoction over Willow and around her in a wide circle while chanting the
spell to release her magick. Ironic, wasn’t it that they had used a spell to
deter such spells? Willow was going to be her first childe, and quite possibly,
her greatest one.
At first nothing happened and Buffy noticed Spike start to
relax. Silly boy, he had no idea. Suddenly Willow began screaming, the power, so
long harnessed and confined, once again free and all at once, flowing through
her.
Spike was horrified; sure he had seen Willow use her magick
for things he never would have guessed she had in her, but he had been away when
she had gone all dark side I’m going to destroy the world on them. And by the
time he had returned, and been – quite tentatively but necessarily –
accepted back into their little group, her magicks had already been bound. Now
he knew.
And in knowing, wished for the blessed ignorance of
yesterday.
His soul, so newly restored, made him cringe from the
sparks emanating from the limply hanging woman. The demon began stirring, too
long suppressed and hungry for the power that flowed out from her.
The moment the glow began to dissipate, Angelus nodded to
Buffy, signaling her. Smiling, Buffy walked up to her friend and immediately and
without fanfare, drained her almost completely before offering Willow her wrist.
At once, the dying woman began to feed, taking great gulps
before passing out to again hang limply on the wall.
Spike had said not a word the entire time; he couldn’t.
His horror at knowing what was to happen was too great.
Angelus smirked, “Don’t worry, Childe. Your turn is
coming soon enough.” And knocked him out cold.
~~~~~~~~
“And she’ll be a bit more…rational than the last
time?”
Spike was going to be out for a while and Willow wasn’t
due to rise for at least another day or so, leaving them with nothing to do but
indulge in each other. Whoever said sex waned after the first weeks obviously
didn’t know what he was talking about. For them it kept getting better and
better. Familiarity breeding fiercer passion instead of contempt.
“Hmm, yes. Last time she was grieving for Tara, making
her unbalanced, foolish almost. If she had been thinking properly, she’d have
realized that destroying the world is much more fun after you’ve subjugated
it. Besides, the power was always within her, but for that kind of incantation
she needed more power all at once than was possible to contain.”
Buffy shifted, bringing her wet core inches closer to his
erection. They had taken their time this morning, tasting, touching, breathing
in every nuance of scent the other aroused. Basking in each other to the point
where they didn’t know where one ended and the other began.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Buffy lowered herself onto Angelus,
both releasing a sigh of satisfaction at their ultimate completion. “So as
long as she doesn’t drain others of their magicks then we’ll be okay?”
Struggling to stay focused on the conversation and not what
Buffy’s strong inner muscles were doing to him, not to mention her claws
raking his chest, Angelus agreed. “One or two won’t matter; draining energy
is much like draining blood…ahhhh, yes, harder.”
Where was he? Oh, right. “Energy is a matter of life to a
witch, dark or no. Willow will need to regulate her intake of course, alternate
between blood and energy, but I think it’ll be fine.”
And with that, he grasped her hips, urging her to move
faster and harder until they were a blur of motion, two entwined bodies forming
one, the bed rattling against its frame. Angelus’ last thought before he
emptied himself into his waiting lover was that they’d need a sturdier bed
before this one broke.
Then he was shouting her name, coming hard and fast into
her, growling as her inner walls clamped tight around him, milking his very
essence. Her fangs sank into his neck, always the same spot though she left no
scar. It was as though she instinctively knew where her mark would be and sought
it each and every time.
His own fangs found the scar on her neck, drawing deeply
from her, tasting her affection and love, her passion and need and want that
went on and on. And it was all for him.
As they lay tangled together, slowly regaining their
ability to move, Buffy asked the question that had plagued her since his sudden
arrival in the underground mansion several weeks before.
“You won’t leave me, will you?”
Tightening his grip around her, pulling her closer to him,
if that were possible, Angelus vowed, “No, never, my love. Not even death can
separate us.”
~~~~~~~~
Despite the fact she was starving.
“Wakey, wakey, Willow.” Buffy sang from her perch on
the chair. She was becoming quite attached to the chair and more than a little
curious as to how to get Angelus in it for what was always mind-blowing sex
between them.
“Ow. What happened?” Her words were slurred as she
tried to get her bearings.
“Simple, dear, I made you immortal. Couldn’t very well
leave my best friend to die when we win this little war and take over the
world.”
“Huh?” And then it all came rushing back to her, the
war, Spike, Buffy’s death, Xander’s disappearance, being kidnapped by a
soulless Buffy and Angelus, Buffy draining her. “Oh.”
“Let me tell you, Will, you were delicious. All that
pent-up power flowing through you, charging your very blood.” Buffy shuddered
in remembered ecstasy. “It was delightful, absolutely delightful.”
“I’m hungry.” She’d think of the rest later, right
now she wanted food.
“I thought you might be.” Turning to the door, she
called out, “Angelus, love, are you ready?” She was going to feed Willow
first, gage her reaction to the change and then untie her. Buffy’s sire may
have been an idiot, but Buffy was not.
Scant moments later her lover walked through the door, two
frightened twenty-something women – dressed for a night out – in tow. They
were bound and gagged, their wrists held in front of them by a chain Angelus
pulled along. “As promised, darling, food for our new childe.”
The girls tried to scream around their gags when they saw
Spike bleeding, unconscious and chained to the wall and Willow vamped out and
similarly chained. It was all to no avail. Pausing a moment to select between
the two, Angelus shoved the second girl towards Buffy to hold for later.
Propelling the frightened girl towards Willow he said,
“Go ahead, scream. It makes the blood taste all the better. Adds that certain
something to the flavor. Plus, no one who hears you…will care.”
Angling the girl’s head to the side to allow unobstructed
access, he watched in pure joy as his lover’s childe consumed her first meal.
It was a sight to behold, this corruption of the so-called Scooby gang, some of
the purest warriors the Light ever had and a long held dream of his. Too bad
they were all going to die, one way or another.
Shaking his head as Willow finished, Angelus said in a
fatherly manner, “You spilled some, Willow. Next time, be more careful with
your food.” Training new family always took time and a definite degree of
patience, Angelus reminded himself, best to take things slow.
Buffy laughed as the now dead girl’s friend sobbed all
the louder at that. Tears streaked down her face, causing her mascara to run in
a wonderful tableau of misery and fear. Whispering in her ear, “Tears also
make the blood sweeter, tears of sorrow, of fright…they’re luscious.”
Dragging the terrified girl to Willow, Buffy asked her
friend, “Promise not to destroy the world until we’re finished with it?”
Thinking about it for a moment, Willow nodded. It would be
more fun to take it over first, indulge in some fun and then destroy it.
Besides, there was so much she had yet to experience. “What have you
planned?”
“Simple, really. Capture the rest of our friends, destroy
Wolfram & Hart, demolish the light, and take over everything. Ever been to
Ireland? I hear their magicks are among the most powerful in the world.”
“Where do I fit into all this?” She was still hungry,
true, and that struggling girl smelled appetizing, but she wanted to hear what
Buffy and Angelus had in mind.
“As my best friend, I need you. Whom else would I entrust
with overseeing half the world?”
Still in vamp form, fangs glistening with blood, Willow
smiled. “Excellent. I’d love to help, you know me.”
The two friends shared a smile at that and it was almost as
if nothing had changed between them since their first years together when the
world was still full of hope and they knew the bad guys would always be
defeated.
Angelus took that as his cue to release Willow and he did
so, all the while keeping a predatory eye on Spike. He chanted a few words in
Mayan and Basque over her chains, unlocking them as he did so. He couldn’t
wait to start on his childe.
Once she was released, Willow attacked the remaining girl,
drinking her quickly before turning to Buffy. “Appreciate the gift, but I
think I need more than these two paltry girls. They’re just so skinny, I
swear. Don’t people eat anymore?”
Laughing, a sound that was both happy and malicious, Buffy
slipped her arm through Willow’s. Leaning over she hungrily met Angelus’
lips before promising, “We won’t be long, love, enjoy yourself while I’m
gone.”
Smiling at her, Angelus turned back to Spike. “Oh, I’m
sure I shall.”
********
Slating their appetites, Buffy asked, “So, Will, I’m
dying to know, you and Spike? How long has this been going on?”
“A few months now. I meant to tell you, but you were too
caught up in the battles and I didn’t want to distract you or anything, then
you were dead and all…. Plus, he being your ex or whatever made it kind of
weird. Strangely enough, I don’t think it is any longer.”
“See what happens when you no longer have a soul?
Everything changes, becomes clearer. Less white and more black. It’s really
wonderful, actually.”
“So I’m learning. What about the rest of the gang? Were
you the ones to take Xander?”
“Hmm, yes. Sorry,” She said, not sounding the least bit
so, “He had to die. After everything he did, everything he just didn’t
understand, it was inevitable. Plus Angelus really wanted to torture him. Made
him feel better.”
Pausing a moment to reflect on this Willow shrugged,
“Could have at least saved a little for me.”
“Next time, promise.”
“You know,” Willow commented as they walked together,
two friends out for an evening stroll, “I think I’m so much more in control
of my powers this time because there isn’t that emotional catalyst there was
with Tara.”
“You still feel the magick flowing through you, right?”
It was weird to hear her and Angelus’ conversation being played through
Willow. Still, it was nice to know that the other vampire was indeed more in
control.
“Yeah, but last time I had also stolen a lot of power to
continue, I never rested to refuel, I just kept recharging. This time I think
it’s the power I always possessed that I’m feeling. It’s not as intense,
true, but I know I can still do a lot of damage.” Willow smiled, watching the
sparks fly from her fingertips.
“Speaking of damage, what’s planned for the rest of the
gang?”
“Angelus wants Spike; he has this thing about other men
and me. You don’t even want to know what he has planned for Riley, although I
may need your help in locating soldier boy. Giles, I want, can’t imagine
spending eternity without him. Dawn, I think with her burgeoning powers, you and
she will make an excellent team, don’t you?”
Willow’s eyes sparkled with red and blue light. “Oh, yes, I’m sure we will. She’s a strong one, are you sure you can turn her?”
“I thought of that and she still is human underneath
everything. I think we’ll be fine.”
“If not,” Willow asked, a sudden idea striking her,
“Can I feed off her power?”
Not really caring one way or the other, Buffy agreed.
“Only if you won’t go all world-destruction again. We want to play with it,
first. Now, then where was I? Ah, yes, Wesley; Angelus wants him dead, something
about betraying him a few years ago with Connor. Cordelia is some ‘higher
being,’ we need to figure out how to get around that. I really want to torture
her; she and Angel had sex therefore she has to die. Hmm, am I missing
anyone?”
They were on their way back to the mansion by this time;
Willow was new, after all, she didn’t have Buffy’s slayer stamina and tired
easily. Plus, Buffy wanted not one more minute away from her lover. She was
getting antsy; this separation thing just wasn’t good for her.
“Connor?”
“Ah, right, Angelus’ son. He’s still deciding on
that. What do you think of him as a playmate for Dawn?”
“Intriguing idea,” Willow agreed as they spotted a
couple walking hand in hand through a deserted park. “Have people no brains?
Don’t they know what lurks in the darkness?”
“Let’s go show them. A snack for the road.”
~~~~~~
Angelus was having one of the best times of his long life.
He was right when he thought Spike would be able to
withstand more torture than average. His childe was proving to be able to endure
several hours of his, Angelus’, most creative methods. Probably because Spike
had been on the receiving end of many of them before, though Angelus had learned
a thing or two in hell.
The dark green powder still lay in a circle around Spike,
turning a sickly color as his blood ran freely onto it. His childe was no longer
in possession of his soul and while the demon rejoiced at this freedom, Spike
himself had little time for rejoicing his change in anything. The pain radiating
throughout his being was taking most of his concentration. And the fact that he
enjoyed some of the pain Angelus inflicted...well at least at first, just added
to his problems.
“Now Spike, my boy, remember what I taught you?” At his
childe’s blank yet wonderfully pain-filled stare, he continued. “Never take
what is mine. Buffy is mine; you know this. What made you think you could have
her?”
“As I recall, mate,” Spike slurred through a bloody
mouth, “You were a hundred miles away boffing the seer. Having a son with
Darla, or some such. You left her.”
The whip flew through the air, striking Spike across his
mouth. “That wasn’t me!”
Angelus raged before getting control of himself once again. “You should know
the difference between soul boy and myself, Spike.” He let the whip sail out
again and again, taking his frustration at not being understood on this one
important topic out on his childe.
“Still, mate, you weren’t around, I was.” The thought
that he was only prolonging his own death did cross Spike’s mind, but he
couldn’t seem to stop the words escaping his bloodied mouth. “Let me tell
you, she was wild. Don’t know why you didn’t take her that first time
around.”
Angelus saw red: the red of fury and blood. Spike was about
to die. After that little speech, there was no way Angelus was going to let him
live. Roaring in pure unadulterated rage, Angelus picked up the stake lying
beside the holy water, decided on acid instead and dipping the point in the jar,
paced towards his errant childe.
He stabbed the pointed wood through both of Spikes thighs
and his stomach before raising it to his heart. Waiting for the younger vampire
to quiet his pain-filled screams, Angelus stated, “You never did know when to
keep your mouth shut, William.”
Buffy walked through the door just then, the young couple
from the park trailing behind her. Pouting she asked, “You’re killing him
already? It’s only been a few hours, baby. You can’t be done yet.”
Scowling at the intrusion, Angelus turned to his lover and
said quite clearly, “It’s simple. He touched you. He dies for that. Just be
glad he never drank from you.” His eyes narrowed at the thought and Spike was
suddenly extraordinarily glad that he hadn’t. At least his death was imminent.
“You,” Angelus pointed the rapidly disappearing acid eaten stake towards
her, “I’ll deal with next.”
Brightening, she smiled. “Really? Promise?” He may have
really enjoyed the pain aspect of their relationship, but it was always towards
great pleasurable sex. Even if it sometimes did hurt like hell. “Oh, right,
almost forgot,” She said as the man renewed his struggles for freedom. “I
brought you a snack, I know how inflicting so much pain hungers you.”
Pushing the tied couple towards him, she walked up to
Spike, “Let me guess, William, you had to rub it in his face.” She shook her
head in mock sympathy. “Too bad, I’d have enjoyed a go at you.”
Angelus drained the couple in short order and heard
Buffy’s last comment. “Forget it, lover, he’s all mine. And you go no
where near him.”
Dropping the woman next to her husband, he pulled Buffy to
him in a lightening quick move that had Spike’s head spinning. Or was that
from the torture? Bending to her neck, he licked her mark, enjoying the shivers
that raced through her. “In fact, I think we need to start your lessons right
now. Spike, enjoy your last day on earth.”
***********
Namely subjecting Buffy to as much physical and mental
anguish as he could in an effort to undermine her will enough to turn her. Dru
preferred the classic forms: whips, chains, holy water, she really wasn’t much
into change and, as with any other lover he had taken during those months, had
paled in comparison with the constant lust he felt for the goddess beside him.
No, he had really been too busy to truly appreciate all the changes in society
during the last hundred years or so.
For instance, many of the sexual toys around today
weren’t when he ruled Europe.
Damn shame that, too, he could have had so much fun. But
now he was back and had all these interesting devices to test. And the perfect
subject on which to test them; they had been too busy indulging in their mutual
unquenchable passion to try them before. Buffy was always exquisite in her pain
as a human, her slayer constitution allowing her to endure many times the normal
conditioning. Her anguish making him crave her all the more.
He could taste her tears as she cried, feel her sorrow and
grief when she thought of Angel but looked into his face. It aroused him to the
point of pain and yet he had still refused to slate that hunger with her.
Thinking that by breaking her he’d release the hold she had over him.
He thought again, as they climbed the winding staircase to
the master suite, that he had been irrational in his desire to purge this, her,
from his being. That by denying himself the pleasures of her flesh, her blood,
her very essence he had denied something that was irrefutable.
No matter, he was himself again and she was here, his, and
eternity lay before them, full of infinite possibilities: erotic, powerful,
desirable possibilities.
They reached the suite, and Angelus guided Buffy through
the large double doors, directing her to the bedroom while he set the wooden box
he carried on the bedspread. For long moments he stared at her, his eyes raking
her exquisite body as he contemplated the possibilities for this night.
As quite possibly the first slayer turned vampire, she was
able to endure that much more; more pain, more blood, more everything. Her
appetite was insatiable, for the hunt, for the kill, for him. Most especially
for him. And Angelus, thanks to the ingestion of her blood too many times to
count, also possessed some of that strength. And the wonderful new ability to
read her emotions as surely as if they were his own.
So while it was true that he could sense her total devotion
to him, Angelus, and Spike was a long distant memory not even worth bothering
with, it didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this little exercise; the
point was that at one time she had had sex with Spike. His childe had touched,
tasted, and fucked what was his,
Angelus’, alone.
It may have been a typically characteristic display, this
show of dominance and joining, but Angelus felt it was necessary. Not only to
reinforce their bond, but to also vent some of his anger at Spike’s ultimate
betrayal. Simply put, the younger vampire should have known better.
Instead of chaining Buffy spread eagle and vulnerable as
was their wont, he forced her to stand perfectly still by the foot of their
gigantic bed, her back to him. “Don’t move, love. And don’t say a
word…but feel free to scream all you want.” He reiterated as she turned her
head to see what he was doing behind her.
Buffy stood there, somewhat patiently, awaiting his next
instruction. She had never known until Spike, and even that paled in comparison
with Angelus, that pain could be used so liberally to enhance her pleasure,
never knew that pain in itself was pleasure. She had come to look forward to it,
to enjoy everything Angelus did to her more than willing body.
But this, she instinctively knew, was something different.
Though she was sure her pleasure would be seen to, eventually maybe, she was
equally sure that this wasn’t about teaching her the finer points of the
pleasure/pain principle, but of truly inflicting pain upon her.
For something she had done years ago and in another state
of being. On some level she understood Angelus’ need to mete out this
punishment, to discipline her for sleeping with Spike. On another level, there
was the increasingly strong desire to punish him for Darla, Drusilla, Cordelia
and countless others who had seen to his needs, who had sated his desires. But
that could wait, at least a little while.
And then there was the fact that she knew, absolutely, that
this was going to hurt. And that if he refused to take blame for Angel, then she
didn’t see why he should condemn her for things done while ensouled. Angelus
may be saving the true torture for Spike and the rest of their former friends,
but he was beyond angry over the fact that her past lovers saw what he
considered to be his and his alone.
How many of his past lovers were still alive? And how many
could she find and eviscerate before she grew bored? The answers, she was
willing to bet, were quite a few and never.
Possession, control, dominance, these were things he felt
in abundance towards her. Love was there, she had no doubt of that, but it was
almost equal to his need to if not control her exactly, then to reaffirm that
she was totally and completely his.
The first stroke of the braided whip lashed out, surprising
her from her musings, raising a small welt on the soft skin of her buttocks. She
may have understood that this was necessary to Angelus, but she wouldn’t give
him the satisfaction of voicing it.
Again and again, over the same spot, flaying flesh and
drawing blood, he rained the whip until he was pleased with the marks. Slightly
disappointed that she had yet to make a sound, but in complete understanding as
to why – touched with a tinge of pride – he moved closer, running a cool
soothing hand over her back and the handle of the whip over the puckered hole of
her anus. They had indulged in anal sex several times, but were usually in too
much of a rush towards completion for it.
Maybe it was time he used that as a tool as well.
Smiling, he tilted her head back, taking her lips in a deep
hungry kiss. He had only just begun and already he was hard and aching for her.
“Now, love, you know why I have to do this, right?”
Still she said nothing; then, “You think that because I
had sex with Spike several years and literally another lifetime ago that it
makes a difference.”
“Wrong, lover, but close. He saw you. Touched what is
mine and mine alone. Spike knew this and yet he still had the sheer audacity to
try and tame you. Only I am allowed that pleasure. As my childe he may have once
had occasion to do so, but never without my permission.”
He let the whip fly again and continued. “And
you…Buffy, you knew you belong to me, knew that only I had the right to see
your passions assuaged, see you scream in pleasure, cry out in delicious
pain.”
Buffy said nothing, trying to understand why it mattered so
much. And then she got it. As his long fingered hand continued to caress her
swollen core, bringing his drenched fingers back to insert into her ass, moving
in and out in an almost soothing rhythm, as she climbed higher and higher
towards the peak only he could help her reach, she understood what she had been
struggling with earlier.
Possession to Angelus was as much about love as it was
anything else. He may have truly loved her, and Buffy believed he did, but he
also wanted to dominate her. Not in the way he had others in the past, using
them until they broke, like Drusilla, or died from too much pleasurable pain as
she was sure countless humans – and a not few vampires – had done. But to
show her that she was his, irrevocably. Suddenly she smiled. It was so easy to
see, now, Buffy wondered why she hadn’t before. No matter, pain was pleasure,
too.
“I understand, Angelus.” Was all she said, since he
clearly required an answer, as he grabbed the lubricant from the bedside table,
liberally rubbing it over his painfully hard shaft before plunging into her ass.
Her scream, pain mixed only slightly with pleasure at this first intrusion,
reverberated around him making him smile.
He draped himself over her as she clutched the bed sheets in tight fists, the pleasure outweighing the pain now…or perhaps the pain becoming pleasure now. Quickly he thrust in and out of her, hands moving around her hips to circling her distended bundle of nerves making her come even as he felt his own release wash over him.
Withdrawing from her, pleased that she had been so accommodating despite the
lack of initial preparation, Angelus stood her back up and kissed her hungrily.
As their tongues mated, each unwilling to surrender control to the other,
Angelus tossed the whip aside. And readied her next lesson.
Angelus didn’t completely ignore her needs. In fact, he
used the exact opposite technique – he never did what she expected, anyway.
Bringing her to orgasm so many times that Buffy was hoarse form screaming and
sore from the intrusion of not only his cock, but the whip handle, and a
vibrator – where on earth had gotten that? – too.
Early on he had opened the wooden box, revealing several
sexual toys he intended to use on her. The butterfly clamp was attached to her
swollen clit, making her come almost immediately. A butt plug was inserted even
as Angelus moved in and out of her wetness, growling at her as she screamed for
him again and again. He decided to forgo the nipple clamps, the box had fallen
off the bed at some point and he was enjoying himself too much to look for them.
As the sun set behind the thick curtains protecting the
inhabitants, Angelus finally allowed Buffy to collapse on the bed, too exhausted
to move further. Numerous lacerations bled profusely and dark almost black
bruises formed on her hips from where he had grabbed her. He ran a hot bath in
the monstrous tub, taking the final items out of the box.
Picking her up, he said, “See, my love. You should never
have been disloyal to me. It may have been Angel who left you, but even he
didn’t take it well when he found out about your other lovers.”
Buffy whimpered as he walked into the bathroom, setting her
on her still sore bottom on the steps leading down. “Stay here, love, I’ll
be right back.”
If her life depended on it, Buffy doubted she could have
moved much beyond leaning back against the tiled wall and allowing her eyes to
flutter closed. True, her healing powers far exceeded her normal Slayer powers,
but Angelus had been relentless, beating her and pleasuring her all during the
long daylight hours. Even she needed time to recover from that.
He came back to see her in the exact same spot, eyes
closed, swaying with the movements of the jet-propelled water. Entering the tub,
though small pool would be a better term, and kneeling to face her, he said,
“Darling, open our eyes…” When she did so, he pulled the necklace from the
box on the ledge, holding it up for her to see.
The bright bathroom lights sparkled through the emerald,
the very large emerald, hanging by the top only from a long white gold chain.
Buffy gasped, at a loss for words. It was exquisite; there really wasn’t any
other word to describe it. “Angelus…it’s lovely. Where did you find it?”
Grinning, pleased she enjoyed her gift, he answered,
“I’ve had it a while, now. Angel was always too much a pansy to take
advantage of the wealth I acquired over the years.”
Frowning she asked, “The wealth you still have? Hasn’t
it been an awfully long time? And vampires aren’t exactly known as creatures
of their words.”
“Didn’t say I left it in the care of vampires, love. A
nice little demon bank of which even the Watcher’s Council are unaware. And
where, unless you know the proper code, no one can gain access to your vault and
accounts. It stays there until you either return, or proof of death is given
with three separate witnesses interrogated by telepaths.”
Buffy chuckled softly, “Paranoid lot. Demons really do
think of everything, don’t they.” Then gasped again as he slipped a ring on
her third finger, left hand. She hadn’t noticed him holding the circle of
white gold and emeralds, so intent on the grand one dangling in front of her.
“In the eyes of the vampire and demon world we’re
already mated, your mark is enough for that and our union will soon be known as
well. But I want everyone to know you’re taken, even in the human world
we’re about to take over.”
Could vampires cry from happiness? Buffy wondered as she
looked at his left hand, noticing a band of white gold circling his third
finger. “Angelus…” She had no idea what to say. For as long as she could
remember, Buffy had wanted Angel, in any incarnation she could get him. Now he
was all hers…and she was speechless.
It wasn’t a claddagh, true, but maybe that was just as well. The claddagh symbolized a different time in their lives, people they no longer were. Connected as they still were.
Moving forward, the pain forgotten, she pressed his lips with hers, and said,
“It’s beautiful, thank you.” And then, before either could change their
minds, “I love you. I don’t care if anyone says it’s impossible, I’ve
always loved you. You are mine and that’s never changed.”
“Yes, my love, and you are mine. I’ll never let you
go.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but Buffy knew that he felt
for her the way she did for him. No matter, she really didn’t need words, she
had him. And that was all she ever wanted.
Slipping the pendant over her head, he was satisfied when
the jewel rested snugly between her breasts. “Perfect, my love,” he
whispered as he kissed her ring finger and pulled her further into the water,
cradling her in his strong arms.
“I intend to shower you with such gifts, love. As my
mate, you deserve nothing less.” He reached behind her to the blood filled
goblet also sitting on the ledge. “Now drink, Buffy, and we’ll go hunting
before finishing Spike.”
~~~~~~~
Buffy watched the lamplight shine on her ring as she lay
comfortably cushioned in her lover’s arms. Though they lay heavily across her
chest, there was a comfort there that had been missing much of her life. After
the bath, Angelus had taken her back to bed, making love to her, for the first
time, slowly. Their joinings had always been thorough, but never
so…affectionate, so…loving.
She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, smiling as
he purred and tightened his grip on her. When they rose and after they fed,
Angelus would finish Spike then they’d move on to Giles and Dawn before
traveling to Russia and the remnants of Angel’s army.
A stray thought struck Buffy as she lay on the verge of
sleep; if they were to complete their union, they’d need some of Angelus’
progeny as well as hers. Maybe they should keep Spike around for a day or two
longer, then dust him.
It was going to be a truly wonderful eternity.
**********
Maybe she’d keep him around for a while, someone to ease
her boredom as they conquered the world. It was a thought but Willow needed to
judge his reaction to the situation. If he decided to side against Buffy and
Angelus, Willow would kill him herself – even if it meant suffering the wrath
of Angelus as he’d be most upset being denied that little pleasure. She had
much more control over her powers this time around, even if she was still a
trifle unsure why that was, and was looking forward to experimenting with them.
But, on the other hand, if he decided to join them, oh, the
fun they could have.
Cupping his battered face in her hands, Willow raised it to
hers. “Spike, wake up.” After a few moments the other vampire slowly opened
his eyes. And groaned as consciousness returned and with it, pain.
“Willow? Love, what happened?” Why was her hair pitch
black…oh. Everything rushed back to him in that moment making the pain ten
fold as he remembered. “Ah, never mind then.”
Continuing to stroke his face, small flashes of light
jumped from her to him, cleaning and healing any damage Angelus had done to his
handsome features. “There, Spike, feel better?” At his croaked affirmative
answer, she smiled. “Good, now then, I’m pretty sure that when Angelus
removed your soul he also removed that pesky chip. That means you’re a free
vampire, able to feed off any living being again.”
It took a moment to process everything; his face may have
been healed, but the rest of his body was still in pain, added to that he
hadn’t had any nourishment and his blood was congealing all over the
floor…he wasn’t in the best shape to fully appreciate the news. “About
bloody time!” His voice was still hoarse, but the meaning was clear enough and
Willow smiled. “Wait a minute,” Spike said, narrowing his eyes, “Why are
you here? Don’t tell me Angelus’ gone soft in his old age and isn’t going
to finish what he so happily started?”
Her cheerful laugh, so like the old Willow, echoed around
the room and was so at odds with her current appearance that he shuddered.
“No, no of course not, whatever were you thinking? I’m here of my own will,
to ask you a simple question.”
Suspicious, not really having a choice he continued to look
at his lover. What was going on here? “What’s that?”
“If I can convince Angelus to let you live, will you try
to betray him and Buffy?” Since it was unlikely he’d succeed, Willow felt no
need to mention that.
His fondest wish, since those damn gypsies, had been to
have his sire returned to him. Well, that and Drusilla by his side always. The
latter hadn’t worked out when he had prevented the world from being sucked
into hell and had then chosen Buffy over her, the former…well, when the soul
that was Angel left and Angelus returned, it wasn’t a happy day in Spike’s
book.
Maybe this time, now that his sire had his mate by his
side…and didn’t seem quite as crazed as he had when last they met. The two
had to be connected Spike was sure. He just couldn’t think why at the moment.
“What do I get out of this?”
“Why me of course.” She smiled, leaning forward to kiss
his lips hungrily. “And the chance to rule half the world by my side.”
Spike had few options: die slowly and painfully by his
sire’s hands, or join Willow. Well, he and Willow had had some fun times and
the sex was great. She was very inventive and passionate and knew what she
liked…and knew how to please him beyond his wildest dreams. But to go back to
obeying Angelus…?
“I know what you’re thinking, Spike, and it’s very
simple. I know you have it in you, to listen to your sire again. When you talk
about the past with him, I hear the wistful note in your voice. I can leave you
here, or I can ask Angelus if he’d spare you. I’d do it myself, but I gave
my word to Buffy.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “Can’t destroy the
world until we’re done conquering it.”
“Okay, love. I’m with you.” What other choice did he
have? Besides, Willow was saner than Drusilla and who knew what kind of lover
she’d be now? Ah, the possibilities.
~~~~~~
Angelus walked into the basement to finish what he had
started to his childe. Seeing that Spike’s face had been healed, he
immediately knew who had done so. No matter, Spike’s healing would make him
that much more able to withstand the new pain.
“Spike, Spike, Spike…I think this is to be your final
lesson.” And proceeded to teach him that lesson as harshly as he could.
But in the end Angelus’ fun was cut short; Willow had
decided that she wanted Spike as her companion. Sorely tempted to ignore the
request from the now black-haired vampire, Angelus had eventually given in. The
catalyst had been, ironically enough, Spike himself.
Bleeding profusely from wrists and chest, an eye swollen
shut, his left leg hanging at an odd angle, Spike had abruptly begun to laugh.
“What do you find so amusing, boy?” It was a growl, so
typically Angelus of old, that Spike couldn’t help but grinned all the more.
“Ah, but it’s good to have you back, Sire. Let me tell
you, the last time you made an appearance, you were so obsessed with the slayer
and your little revenge, that you barely had time for any fun.” He coughed,
then, spitting out a glob of blood and spittle, “So, now that she’s yours,
are we all back to the way things were?”
Angelus was flabbergasted. This wasn’t at all how he had
expected things to go. Ahh, the best laid plans of mice and men…. Still, this
could be fun. “So let me get this straight, William,
you want to go back to obeying me as Master?”
“No, not really, I’ve enjoyed this freedom, being the
one in charge. But, one, it’s better than being tortured for the next twenty
years or so until you tire of keeping me alive. Two, when we worked together it
was always better than when I was on my own; things were destroyed much
more…inventively. And finally, I know you. And I know Buffy. You don’t play
small. So I’m thinking, since sucking the world into hell didn’t work last
time, this time it’s ruling the world. I like that better, still could have my
fun; I’d like to be in on that. Hate to miss a good fight.”
Folding his arms over his chest, Angelus continued to stare
at his childe. They had had great fun, back in the day, hunting and pillaging
and carousing to their dead heart’s content. Things had changed after the soul
and when he had made his appearance in Sunnydale all those years ago, nothing
had been the same for a variety of reasons not the least of which had been his
hundred-year absence.
“Interesting.” Was all Angelus said before continuing
his fun with the branding irons and acid.
He had to think about it. So few of his offspring had a
mind of their own; then again, so few – as far as he knew – were still
alive. They’d need to build their army, assemble their base for world
domination. Spike might just be able to help with that. Plus, as Buffy had
pointed out, they needed to complete their union.
It was later that night as the moon completed her descent
and the sun colored the sky with the first rays of dawn, when he and Buffy were
lying in their bed, exhausted from hours of intimately satisfying sex that he
told her about his conversation – such as it was – with Spike.
“What are you going to do about it?” Personally, she
found it an intriguing concept, but she wasn’t the one making the decision.
“Not sure. It’s interesting, how he jumps back in line
like this. But after everything I’m just not sure I can trust him. Plus I
really want to torture him.” He moved his head slightly to lick the closing
puncture marks on her neck, purring softly.
“Trust? Darling, really, how many people do you trust?”
Angelus paused, “You…” He couldn’t think of anyone
else. “Okay I see your point, but my
point is that I used to be able to trust him.
Now…too much has changed.”
“Maybe not that much. He’s weaker than you and he
follows the strongest leader. Plus there’s Willow, don’t forget. Who, I
almost did forget, wants him back.”
“She does?” Shock colored his voice, making him
momentarily forget his pleasure.
“Yeah, now that she’s back to being all evil witch of
the west, she thinks having Spike back, sans soul, would be great. And since you
already took care of his soul, and that annoying little chip, it kind of works
out. Plus, don’t forget our union. Unless you plan on making more, we should
stick with the childe that’s here.”
“Hmm, maybe,” He agreed, going back to her neck.
“Still, I’m just not sure; he’s caused me no end of problems.”
Bringing a hand up to caress the side of his face, Buffy
grinned. “Don’t worry, baby. He isn’t going anywhere.”
Shifting downwards, she trailed her tongue over his chest
and stomach, encircling his rapidly hardening penis. “Just relax, now. We’ll
figure out what to do about Spike later.”
********
“You have one warning, Spike. Do anything to piss me off
and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I’m letting you live only because
Willow wants you. Understand?”
Spike could barely move his head to an upright position, so
settled for a ragged verbal, “Yes, Sire,” Before falling back into
semi-consciousness, glad for the quiet and relief it brought with it.
“Good. Willow!” Angelus called, as he finished cleaning
his instruments – they really needed some minions for this task. When she
entered, he looked at her; power or no, he was the Master of this group, not her
and what he said, went. “He’s your responsibility, one wrong move and he’s
dust. Keep him in line, I know you can.” He turned to leave. “Oh, and should
you tire of him, find someone else, whatever, let me know, I’m sure he’s
good for another few years of torture.”
Whistling off key, he left Willow and her lover alone and
went in search of his own lover. He was starved, true, but maybe they’d head
to the opera after feeding; Buffy had said how she’d love to see one and Aida
was playing this weekend.
A few calls, some reminders of the past and threats and
promises for the future and Angelus had secured a limo and driver to pick them
up thirty minutes before the show. And guaranteed him his name would spread
among the demon community like wildfire. A few more calls, these more pleasant
and less threatening, ensured the arrival of their eveningwear. Their attire had
heretofore consisted of the clothes they had arrived in and had subsequently
burned and leather and silks completely inappropriate for a night at the opera.
One last call guaranteed them a large private box at this
evening’s one night only sold out presentation of Aida.
Money, power, and history also ensured them that no one
would question anything. And that everything Angelus had planed would go off
smoothly.
~~~~~~~
The box at the opera house was indeed large and private,
allowing the couple to indulge themselves before the show started. They decided
to forego that pleasure in favor of watching the mingling masses below
them…and maybe finding a tasty meal of two for after the show.
The rich had absolutely no idea that the world as they knew
it was soon to end.
As the personal waiter came round serving vintage wine in
Waterford crystal flutes, Buffy leaned over and kissed Angelus. “Even if I
hate it, thank you for doing this.”
“If you find you like it, love, we’ll get season tickets. It’s not like expense is a consideration.” Angelus offered as he sipped his wine. Excellent. Then again, he expected nothing else.
Angelus picked up their entwined fingers and kissed the back of her hand,
lightly nibbling on her knuckles. Their attire was simple and classic, a tuxedo
for him, and a floor length, dark blue silk dress with spaghetti straps for
Buffy. He couldn’t wait until afterwards to take the dress off her, exposing
her creamy skin inch by delicious inch.
He was about to do much more than kiss her hand when the
lights dimmed and the orchestra began the overture. Sighing in mild frustration,
Angelus leaned back, laying their still entwined hands on his lap, and prepared
to enjoy the show. It had been too long since he indulged in this particular
pastime and he was looking forward to the evening.
The story fascinated Buffy and while she couldn’t really
understand the songs – everything was in Italian no Elton John songs for
Angelus– the concept was clear enough. The captain of the guard was in love
with a slave girl of the people the Egyptians were about to go to war with –
Ethiopia according to the booklet. Jealously ensued when the Pharaoh’s
daughter, who was also in love with the captain, discovered her rival.
Battles were fought and won and the girl’s father –
coincidentally the king – was captured. A marriage was announced between the
captain and the Pharaoh’s daughter, but it was obviously not a happy one to
the captain and his slave lover, Aida.
Intermission jarred Buffy out of her trance, reminding her
of the outside world and her amused lover next to her. Smiling at him, she said,
“About those season tickets…”
“Enjoying yourself, my dear?” He traced a finger down
her cheek, smiling at her obvious interest. He had stopped watching the scene
before him and concentrated solely on her ten minutes into the story, when her
attention had been so decidedly grabbed.
“More than I thought actually. It’s an…interesting story; I look forward to the next act.” She replied quite honestly. Never had she actually seen an opera, not even a play that wasn’t performed by high schoolers. Duties and lack of interest always held her back, but now that she had the time…and a willing teacher…Buffy thought that all about to change.
Angelus had been her instructor in many things these past weeks, sexual and
otherwise. He had insisted that, ‘My Dark Queen must be learned in a variety
of topics. Alliances will be essential in the beginning they will, of course, be
broken later, but for now, a necessary evil. As such, you’ll be required to
converse on an assortment of subjects.’
It was when they covered the music of the nineteenth
century that Buffy took an active interest in what Angelus taught. Not that she
hadn’t early in their lessons discovered what she had always assumed was a
latent talent for her studies, but the music was what really caught her
attention. As they had lain in bed one day, idly discussing the great composers
of the 1800s, a conversation neither ever thought they’d have together, Buffy
had casually mentioned that she’d like to see one of the operas she had been
studying.
To say Angelus was thrilled at the prospect of her interest
in one of his favorite diversions was an understatement. He had eagerly agreed
but it wasn’t until recently that they had looked into their options. Their
priority had been finding their friends then torturing said friends; Verdi
wasn’t in their plans.
Now they made their way around the lobby, aimlessly
watching the couples and groups mingling, out for an evening of pleasure, never
knowing what walked in their midst. Buffy’s hand was pulled through his arm in
a very old-fashioned display that she found charming. She was about to ask him
about someone she thought she recognized from the program when she noticed
Angelus looking over her head as though he heard or saw something she had not.
“Angelus?” When he looked at her, eyes unfocused, she
added, “Are you okay? You look a little…preoccupied.”
“I thought I saw someone I knew…a very long time
ago.” He was about to add more when they heard someone calling him.
Squeezing her hand tighter than necessary, they turned to
find themselves face to face with a man – vampire if Buffy’s sense of these
things was to be believed and she saw no reason why it shouldn’t be –
several inches shorter and wider than Angelus. His faced was creased along the
brow and mouth as though he frowned often had he been human…or had been
wounded somehow and had recovered only to a certain point. Long ugly scars
marred each cheek and a small ‘A’ could be seen in the juncture between jaw
and ear.
His hair was a
shock of white blonde that would have made Spike jealous and currently waved
about his head and over his shoulders. Buffy could smell the stench of blood and
sewers from him, but doubted anyone else – other than Angelus – could.
Obviously he didn’t take an interest in daily hygiene. His voice was accented,
Germany Buffy thought but couldn’t have possibly recognized the Middle Ages
Prussian connotation.
The feelings projecting themselves from Angelus to her made
Buffy uncomfortable. There was something there she was missing, of that there
was no doubt. But it was the sheer volume of emotions that he broadcasted that
caused her the most concern. Whatever the other man had once been to Angelus, it
clearly was something not of the good.
“Damon.” He replied, making no move to shake the
politely outstretched hand. “I never expected to see you in LA.” Which was
evidently not what he really wanted to say, but the point was made clearly
enough.
With a smile that could only be described as serpent-like
and eyes as flat and cold as one, Damon laughed, low and sly, as he said,
“Thought you’d never see me again, is more like it, eh, Angelus?” Then he
turned to Buffy and his smile changed to one of covetous, “Ah, but look at the
pretty you have this fine evening. Wherever did you find her?”
The growl that rumbled in Angelus’ chest caused several
people standing nearby to look at them with curiosity…and not a little fear.
Ignoring them, Angelus words were calm enough, while his eyes and body language
screamed the need to kill, to defend his mate. “This is my wife, Buffy.”
His emphasis was not on ‘wife’, but on 'Buffy.’ Yet
Damon clearly had no idea whom he was ogling, the name meaning nothing to him as
he leered, “Wife, eh? She’s exquisite. Never thought Darla would go for
that.”
“Obviously, Damon, you’ve been out of the loop for a
good long while. You really need to pay more attention to what’s going on
around you and not who’s going around you.” Angelus’ voice held a faintly
amused mocking tone.
Buffy had no idea who he was or what his relationship to
Angelus was, but she wouldn’t tolerate being spoken to by this creep as though
she were nothing more than a fresh body to feed from. She tilted her head to the
left and traced the mark Angel had long ago given her with a fingertip.
“Darla’s dead; long dead. And I guess you’ve never heard of me. I must
say, I’m surprised.”
She looked up at Angelus a seductive smile on her face.
It’d been a while since she hadn’t had instant recognition and at his nod of
approval, continued, “Must have been losing my touch, love, why hadn’t you
ever told me? Most recognize me right away.” Turning back to the still leering
but now curious and surprised vampire, she confided, “I’m the Slayer.”
Pause; let it sink in…“Or rather…I was.”
Damon jerked back clearly shocked at her revelation and
Angelus smiled as the scent of fear momentarily surrounded him. Covering it
quickly enough, he regained his composure but couldn’t stop his jaw from
dropping in a most unbecoming manner as Buffy raised her free hand to Angelus’
cheek, looking adoringly at him. Angelus, knowing what she was doing, smiled at
her. With his left hand, he brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the ring he
had given her several days ago.
Turning back to a still shocked Damon, he said, “I think
the third act is about to begin, darling. Shall we return?” Then, almost as an
afterthought though it was clearly meant as an insult, “Oh, Damon. So good to
see you alive and…well…again.”
They walked up the stairs, conscious of the other
vampire’s eyes boring into their backs, but refusing to give him the
satisfaction of acknowledging it. Looking down from the top of the steps,
Angelus noticed a woman walk up to a still shocked Damon, winding her arm
through the now seething vampire’s, drawing him away.
As they resettled themselves back in their box, Buffy
asked, “Who was he?”
“Someone I thought I had taken care of a very long time
ago. Damon was one of the master’s kin, didn’t take too well to being
overthrown as favorite by Darla. When Darla left Nest for me, things didn’t go
back to the way they were and he lost all standing in the community. Didn’t
take that too well, either, and came after me.”
He was lost in memories. Not of his time with Darla, but in
the clash that had resulted between himself and the older vampire. It was long
and bloody and had involved the death of several of Angelus’ children, an
action he did not easily forgive. “Arrogance was Damon’s downfall; he
overestimated his worth and skills and underestimated mine. Thought that because
I was younger I was also weaker. He was wrong. I left him alive, so much more
humiliating that way, but severely beaten; it took him months to recover and
even then some of the scars never faded. Later he ran afoul of Spike and Dru.
Things, or so I had thought, didn’t go at all well for him.” He’d have to
ask Spike about it…
The third act began, a temple scene by what was obviously meant to be the River
Nile, but neither noticed. Buffy kneeled in front of Angelus, resting between
his spread legs, drawing his attention back to the present and to her. “You
think he’s trouble?”
Shaking his head free of the past, he smiled at her. “I
can’t say for sure, but probably. I’ve been out of everything a while now, I
just don’t know. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to regain some
standing after Nest’s death. He’s Old World, likes the palaces and castles
of Europe, the snobbery; I don’t know what he’s doing here. Unless he’s
trying out a new base of operations with this war going on. ”
Leaning up to lightly touch her lips to his, Buffy smiled. “Don’t worry
about it. Whatever it is, whatever power he thinks he has now, he can’t defeat
the two of us. When we’re together we’re strong, undefeatable. Nothing can
change that. Now relax, watch the final scenes with me.”
He ran his hands down her silk clothed sides, cupping her
bottom and pulled her closer. He could smell her arousal and hardened at the
scent of the exquisite bouquet. “Have I ever told you that I love it when
you’re submissive?”
Pleased his mood had been broken, though she knew him well
enough to know it was only temporary, Buffy let her head fall to the side,
revealing the mark that had been of such interest earlier. “Well, if you’re
really good, maybe later tonight I’ll let you be Mr. Dominance.”
“Let me?” He asked as his tongue played with the raised
and scared skin, one hand caressing her soft mound through the dress. She had
forgone panties, preferring the freedom and easy access the lack of underwear
provided. The other hand gently pulled a strap off her shoulder as he trailed
his mouth over the rounded slope.
Buffy shivered at the contact. “You know what I mean, lover. Anything you want, it’s yours. Always.”
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