Author: silly_bint
Prompt: #10 Voyeurism
Part One: Curiosity didn’t really kill the cat… Did it?
Through dark images of torturous lovers
Spun gold melted the hunter green
Until it became seething jealous ivy
And the spun gold merely blue skies
She was meant to be patrolling. It was what Slayers did. They patrolled and they killed things.
End of Story.
But somehow none of that really registered as she walked away from the cemeteries and back into suburbia. Buffy knew it was her duty to be out there killing the newest minions and thus preoccupying herself with something besides the fate of Willow’s fish. It was the ‘right’ thing to do. She also knew with certainty that it was what Giles was expecting as he trundled himself off to bed. Her watcher didn’t believe that she could kill Angelus and was better off saving her strength. It was a common view, none of her friends thought that she could do it either. To be honest no one did.
Buffy glowered at the pavement below her feet as she slowly made her way along Crawford Street. She could try to deny it all she wanted but they all knew that she still loved him. The feelings simply didn’t turn off because his demon had made himself known and for that Buffy felt incredibly guilty.
Guilty enough to want to end the whole sordid affair tonight. Or at least that’s what she planned. Lately everything had been going to hell more than normal.
Gotta love the Hellmouth.
Xander had been the first with the accusations, saying that she must of known that this would happen. Her best friend seemed to think that being with a vampire instantly equaled death and destruction.
Hazel eyes had simply stared at him in shock before turning to look at her mentor. Sure the boy’s theory was looking pretty correct but did he really need to say that?
The reprimanding gaze of her Watcher had told her that indeed it was.
For a moment Buffy had thought that would be the end of it. Giles would figure out a plan of attack and her emotional turmoil could be relieved. Only it hadn’t. Between ireful gazes and condescending glares Willow was the only one who even whispered that it wasn’t her fault. Everyone else just continued on as before. The petite blonde had only been able to stay in the room for another minute after Cordelia’s outburst before her guilt forced her out into the school’s corridors. From there she had aimlessly wandered without purpose.
And it was all because of Angelus.
It was obvious that dealing with the now very dangerous vampire would only result in her dying, at the very least, but the petite slayer was beginning to realise that unless she faced him, her life wouldn’t be worth living. For three nights, vampires had been taunting her about Angelus’ infidelities even as they dusted. Where they were getting their information was obvious but still she didn’t want to believe it.
Not without proof.
Rationalizing going to the mansion had not been overly difficult, Buffy thinking that if she could just witness such betrayal, she would be able to finally banish any residual feelings of tenderness. She ignored the voice of reason which simply thought that she was going to get herself killed.
Listening to that voice was like talking to Giles.
Forcing herself to remain calm as the mansion came into sight Buffy considered her options. The safest one would be to move in the direction of Restfield Cemetery instead of the foreboding structure of concrete and forget this whole plan. The other…
Buffy raised her head boldly and began to silently move over the mansion’s grounds.
She had to know the truth.
The first sounds she heard were the normal scraping of chairs and raucous laughter. They filtered out into the night air unabashedly, conjuring images of a frat house party. It almost appeared normal except for the riot of shivers which rolled up and down Buffy’s back at the nearness of her prey. She may be here playing the role of a jealous spying ex girlfriend but her Slayer senses were still very much existent. The conversation was easy enough to make out, though as Buffy crept closer, she really wished that she couldn’t.
They were discussing her…
“Fifty bucks says that he kills her before the week’s over.” One snarling demon hurled the cash onto the table, odd notes flying everywhere.
Another snorted in contempt. “As if he could be bothered” he retorted. “Have you ever seen the Slayer? She’s all bones and blonde hair. Pure Valley Girl.”
“I love eating that type”, murmured one.
The most dominating vampire raised an eyebrow, his senses not picking up on the scent of Buffy as she moved closer to the wall. “You would.” His hands, gnarled and shadowy in the dark played with the edge of a dollar bill. “Angelus however has other tastes. Why shouldn’t he when Drusilla is hanging around?”
“He’s still going to kill her though… Isn’t he?”
Buffy held her breath as the other vampires stared at what was obviously the most dominate minion.
“Eventually he will. Right now all Angelus is interested in is Drusilla.” A growl of disgust sounded. “How he could ever abase himself with a revolting, breathing human is beyond me.”
A chorus of agreement instantly arose from the minions. Dru was obviously a favourite.
Clutching Mr. Pointy in one hand Buffy considered jumping over the wall and strangling at least one vampire with her hands. It wouldn’t take long before she could rip the head off and at least then she wouldn’t have to listen to Dru’s looney tune choir. It was bad enough reading about Spike’s eternal devotion for an entire century. She really didn’t need to know that everyone else loved the crazy ho bag also. Another heap of money fluttered into the air as again they began their betting. In the minions’ opinions she had at most a month to live.
If her luck kept running in the same fashion that it had, then they were being far too generous.
Bracing one hand on the wall, Buffy slowly began to move around the building, easily dispatching a guard as he leaned against the cold stone. The minion made a choking sound before dissolving into dust.
Buffy merely continued on.
The first window she came across was smudged completely in grease and dirt, making it impenetrable to the sun and her eyes. She lightly tapped a finger against it, shuddering when more laughter rang out. Ever since Angelus had returned the vampiric population had had a reason to celebrate. Buffy could only wonder how Spike was dealing with the change.
Interrogating minions during her patrols had only ever revealed Angelus as taking control, with no mention of Spike ever occurring. The odd feeling of kinship and empathy at first had surprised her but then, after much thinking during English, she realised that they were exactly the same. There was absolutely no reason she couldn’t identify with the bleached vampire after everything that happened. Both of them had lost their lovers and been rejected by their own kind. And both of them no longer had any options in how to fix the situation except for leaving, in his case, and in her’s, dusting the egotistical demon. Whilst Willow might still be able to look her in the eye, Buffy knew that her relationship with the other members of her group was irrevocably damaged. Add in the odd avoidance of anything related to Spike and you could call them twins. Or at least, people with similar circumstances, thought Buffy, remembering golden orbs and gleaming fangs. Maybe twin is too strong of a word.
She trudged on for several minutes longer, dusting as she went, until she found the telltale corner and scent of jasmine.
The protrusion of the mansion wall, coupled with the rough texture of the bricks was all she need for Buffy to realise that she was standing just outside of the courtyard. The odd lilting singing of one crazed vamp notified the frustrated Slayer of Drusilla’s presence; which also by default meant Angelus.
Almost like they are gift wrapped she thought sullenly. If only all evil adversaries were so easy to find.
Grasping the stake in her hand, Buffy stared up at the wall, knowing that just over the other side was the answer to all her worries and questions. Common sense told her that Angelus would be with the black haired ho bag, touching and loving her but the childish girl part of her still felt like it just might not be true. Climbing over that wall would mean seeing her first true love as he really was.
There was still a chance to turn back.
Screw it.
Facing the wall determinedly Buffy reached out one hand, wrenching on the thick vines which snaked along concrete and stone. Her first step nearly didn’t happen, the vines which covered thick brick not providing a strong enough hold. It took another three minutes of the Slayer resigning herself to completely scratching her expensive but fashionable designer shoes and newly painted nails before she reached halfway. The rest of the climb was spent cursing the Powers that be and Angelus alternatively.
Everyone else only got a passing mention.
When tired hands finally grasped the ledge, Buffy wanted to sigh in relief. It hadn’t been this hard to sneak in to a vampire’s home for a very long time. Was there something wrong with her?
Hazel eyes appeared anxious for a moment before dismissing the question. If Angelus had placed some magical enchantment over the mansion, it obviously wasn’t a very good one. She still had climbed over the wall without a rope or help from anyone else, thank you very much and no one had noticed.
Not even the twirling vampire which whirled around the courtyard.
Drusilla, pale as ever, was dressed in the usual Queen of the Damned attire, thick pieces of sheer white clothe covering her frame. It moved in the stillness of the night almost like a ball gown, fanning out in wide circles. She was beautiful, heavy thick ringlets of ebony hair falling just past her shoulders. However Buffy couldn’t help but be resentful. Drusilla had managed to snatch Angelus’ affections as well as keeping Spike’s. The big dirty ho.
The petite blonde also refused to recognise just why it was that she felt jealousy over Spike loving Dru.
That would have meant stepping out of the Nile. Not such a great decision when your whole life was spent living right next to it.
In an effort to distract herself Buffy’s eyes focused on the night blooming jasmine which had only recently opened their petals. In the cloying darkness they shone like white beacons, casting Dru and the courtyard in a less demonic glow. The cobblestone of the courtyard, odd and uneven in patches where time had not smoothed it, also gleamed unnaturally. Perhaps there was a spell covering the mansion.
Buffy forced her body lower, stretching along the surface in parallel to the dancing vampire. It was only a matter of time before Angelus appeared and then she would see whether all the rumors were true.
As if on cue Angelus entered, bare feet barely making a sound against the stone.
His shirt, a pale ashen grey, moved with the air, half unbuttoned and showing off every muscle. Tight black leather pants completed the ensemble, hugging his frame and allowing Buffy to glance once more at what had haunted her dreams. Part of her still loved him but seeing the smear of thick clotted blood alerted her to the reality of the situation.
He had been feeding.
Wanting to scoff at her stupidity for being surprised, Buffy slowly allowed her body to slip down the side of the wall and behind a marble statue. Angelus didn’t even notice the movement, reaching for Drusilla by the waist and then tugging her into his frame.
“The sun looks upon us this night.” Drusilla’s soft voice, haunting in its British nuances sounded out into the night air.
While Buffy cowered at the thought of being discovered, Angelus tsked in annoyance.
“For once Dru, please just shut up.” The tone came out with only a hint of anger but the female vampire trembled all the same. Her response was so instantaneous that Buffy couldn’t help but wonder whether she had been punished for speaking as such before. It made sense. Reading through the Watcher Diaries had shown the petite Slayer the exact nature of the demon. Angelus was irritable constantly, obsessive and most importantly cruel. There was nothing that he wouldn’t indulge himself in, particularly if the victim was a woman.
Buffy grimaced. Not even puppies had been safe. She was suddenly very glad that her mom had never agreed to the demands for a dog.
“She’s shining all over us.” Dru murmured quietly. “You may not want to listen to the pixies but I must. If I don’t speak, then the nasty sunshine will steal away Daddy and the prince.”
Angelus rolled his eyes, shifting into demonic visage. He wanted to rip the crazy whore’s head off but knew that it was a passing fancy. If he could just shut her up then they could call the boy out and have some real entertainment. Angelus wanted to have at least one proper bonding session before he dragged the Slayer’s corpse over cobbled stones. Beady yellow eyes surveyed the grounds surrounding them before Angelus placed his lips along the long dead artery. It was best to follow Spike’s actions when Drusilla kept talking. Whenever her so called ‘visions’ would come Spike would continue to ask questions until she had no more answers and only wanted ‘tea and cake’. Hopefully she would quiet if he responded properly, but if it did become an actual conversation Angelus could merely send her to her wayward childe. After a hundred years of utter madness, the boy was by far the best at soothing her.
“Who would you rather she have?”
Dru gasped as her sire bit into her throat, hands tugging his arms tighter around her waist. She loved her black knight but Daddy always came first, had always in her shell of a mind.
“Spike,” she whispered brokenly. “She could have Spike.” Even if she doesn’t deserve him.
Angelus snapped his head up at the mention of the errant child. Weren’t Dru’s words all rubbish? Products of a broken mind? The blood, thick and black dribbled down his chin as he considered the shuddering woman in his arms. She was a moving artwork that he had long cherished if only for the fact that Drusilla’s empty eyes paid testament to his abilities as a demon.
There was no way that she could be coherent enough to notice anything beyond him.
Tiring of the low moans that wept from Drusilla’s mouth, Angelus focused his attention to the lingering shadow by the doorway. Like a true childe the bleached vampire had come at the mere twinge of familial connections, not needing a proper beckoning. When the silver of the vampire’s hair reflected Angelus couldn’t help but ridicule the now crippled demon.
“There’s no need to lurk Wheels. We don’t mind if you interrupt.”
Spike’s snort of derision echoed in the courtyard. “As if I want anything to bloody well do with you lot. I’m just out here to get a little fresh air. The sodding mansion is worse than a coffin if you ask me.”
Angelus’ retort was scathing. “We didn’t.” The elder vampire released Drusilla slowly, letting her body pick up the slight weight as he turned to stare at Spike.
”Come here.”
Wide blue eyes, the colour of a summer storm flashed with gold for a moment as he regarded his sire and her lover. Their lover. “I bloody well will not. Come over here yourself.”
Angelus smiled at the open refusal. He had expected Spike to simply submit and let the punishment be easier on himself but this… fangs glimmered in the moonlight as his eyes roved over the other demon’s body. William would be crying for attention well and truly before the night was over if he had any say about it.
Instead of commanding him to come closer however, Angelus only shrugged. His grin of delight at Spike’s confused expression was hidden from the man as he tugged Drusilla against his chest. With only the two of them there, Angelus could play any game that he wanted. No one would ever know of it besides him and the cursed soul.
Or at least that’s what he thought.
Angelus’ normally strong senses had still not managed to pick up the scent of one terrified Slayer who peered from behind a statue of Aphrodite.
Buffy huddled closer to the cool marble, chest heaving as she struggled to hold back the tears which were certain to erupt. It had been a terrible mistake coming here. And now she was paying the price.
Hunter green eyes couldn’t help but watch as the dress Dru had worn before slowly fell onto stone, revealing a pale nude form. Hip bones caught what little light there was as Angelus’ hands rested just above the dark vampire’s crotch.
It was obvious what he planned.
Buffy noticed that rather than stay at the entrance Spike was slowly wheeling himself forward until he sat facing the statue she hid behind. Does he know that I’m here?
One hand pushing Drusilla’s face into Spike’s lap was all the answer that she needed.
Caught, Buffy found that she could not turn away from the scene which quickly evolved before her eyes. Disgust and shame warred with a terrible feeling of arousal as Spike’s red shirt was flung onto the back of his wheelchair and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.
Nor could she shield curious assessing eyes from the pleasure stricken face of Spike as Drusilla wrapped a sinuous hand around his already hard cock and began to pump.
Suddenly the woman screamed as Buffy’s attention turned to Angelus who’s leather jeans hung down around his knees. Thrusting into the vampire madly, her former lover’s hands scratched deep welts down her back, blood mingling with the thick strands of midnight colored hair.
Low growls were now pouring from Spike’s lips, blue eyes switching from blue to gold almost constantly. Dru’s hand still continued to slide over him, her thumb sweeping over the tip but slowly he began to move away, swinging his wheels until they directly faced the statue.
In a surreal moment hunter green eyes, shining with emotion met spun gold, Spike’s fangs now obvious as he pushed away Drusilla’s hand and began to pump if possible harder. He paid no attention to his sire’s cry of disappointment, focusing on the wide eyed expression of the Slayer as she watched him, the girl not knowing that with each sweep he imagined her instead.
IN the background he could hear Drusilla, screaming dead lungs as Angelus forced her to completion but it meant nothing. His family, twisted and more insane than before, didn’t even impede as a soft gasp escaped the Slayer’s pink lips.
She was enjoying it.
Spike growled, lips parting slightly as he finally came. Rather than lick up the spendings or even touch him Drusilla merely cooed in delight before brushing a kiss against Angelus’ now bare chest, a pleased expression obvious in hooded eyes.
“That’s my wicked boy” she said softly. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint her.” One hand grasped hold of Angelus’ as the two male demons locked gazes. “The sunshine needs to know that you’re still a bad dog. Made to bash and smash. Not being able to dance doesn’t mean you can’t move.”
“Silence Dru” barked Angelus. “You’ve done more than enough tonight alone.” He wasn't happy at all with Spike's actions. Never before had the vampire refused to be part of their couplings. For a creature, intent on murder and torture, this strange dissidence was horrifying.
Why would Spike refuse them?
It has to be Dru's fault. Spreading lies in the boy's head.
“Have I? Mummy’s only trying to keep Powers happy.” The vampire turned her pale back to Spike and licked a path up to Angelus’ throat. “Let’s go inside” she whispered. “There’s still plenty of dirty delicious things that we can do before sunrise and I want tea.”
Angelus fixed Spike with a final glare and then nodded grudgingly. There was something off about tonight’s events. Almost as if there had been someone else in the courtyard with them. But that was a foolish idea. The witch had said that the charm would bar anything that tried to enter the mansion that was pure. If Buffy was around he would’ve had to know about it.
Deciding that he needed a victim and maybe even the lash, Angelus walked back into the dark recesses of the mansion, Drusilla following behind like a dog.
The slamming of the doors made Buffy sigh in relief, limbs stuck in an odd feeling of paralysis.
She didn’t even realise as Spike fixed his zipper that the lean blonde vampire had seen her.
Nor that she would soon be discovered…