Chapter 11
~*~*~*~*~
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
The
foursome strolled in the darkness of Sunnydale, masters of their territory.
Spike led, holding Buffy by the hand, his leather swirling out behind him
as he strode towards Ripper’s pad. His
eyes swept over Buffy’s outfit appreciatively, the leather pants clinging to
her like a second skin, her nipples clearly outlined under the flimsy top.
“Nice
togs, pet. Tryin’ to get me
going?”
“I
have to try? I’m crushed!”
Playful Buffy was a delight; her enjoyment of her new status had
transformed her. Gone was the
whiny, self-centered girl, submerged completely by the hedonistic and vicious
vampire who loved and killed with a passion that eclipsed many older vampires he
knew.
He
laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, and swept her up to spin her round before
kissing her and setting her back on her feet.
Drusilla looked on with dark, downcast eyes. The pairs’ obvious and deepening affection for each other
was beginning to wear on her. She’d
been prepared to give him time to raise his Childe, break her to the vampire
way, before reasserting her claim on him. But
instead of a cowering and obedient demon, Buffy was an equal, Spike’s equal.
A rival. She began to sing
softly to herself to keep at bay the visions that crowded her head, visions of
Spike wrapped in golden hair, eyes full of adoration.
That
look should be hers. It would be
again; she’d bide her time but he would be her Spike.
The stars whispered…
Xander
looked around him with enhanced eyesight; everything looked new, sharper, more
defined. He could hear heartbeats,
breathing, as they passed through the main street and he struggled to restrain
himself from rushing into the crowds and tearing them apart.
He wasn’t in full control of his demon yet, but Spike had taken over
his instruction in place of his absent Sire and he could at least now repress
his vampire features until he wanted them to show.
Still, with all that warm, pumping blood so near, it wasn’t easy…
Spike
turned to check on Xander. He knew
this would be a big challenge for the new vampire, the first time he’d been
among so much humanity. He flashed
his adopted Childe a reassuring glance, nodding slightly in approval as the
youngster had managed to retain his human façade.
He frowned as he noticed Drusilla muttering to herself, her head down.
She was off, his Princess; something was bothering her.
He knew what it was…he just didn’t want to do anything about it.
He still cared for her; she was his Sire after all, his savior, but what
he had with Buffy was different, more intense.
Buffy matched him in everything; they were a perfect pair.
And just as Spike had always come second to Angelus with Drusilla,
Drusilla would have to learn to come second to Buffy with him.
He’d deal with it, later, after he’d dealt with Angel.
He
stopped suddenly, eyes closed, head back as he sniffed the air.
Angel was near; they should change direction in order to be waiting for
him. He upped the pace, the others
following.
~*~*~*~*~
“Giles!
Giles! It’s Angel…open
up, I need to talk to you.”
He
was hammering on the door, his fist almost bloody with the impact.
“Yes,
yes…I’m here…hold on.”
Ripper
turned back to check that his four visitors were hidden from view before turning
on the light and opening the door. He
affected a flustered look, his hair ruffled, his spectacles awry.
“What
on earth is it, Angel? What’s
happened?”
“Giles,
I don’t know how to tell you this…maybe you should sit down.
Hell, I know I need to.”
“What
is it? Come on, man, you’re
scaring me now.”
Ripper
had to keep tight hold of his mocking laughter as Angel’s heavy brow crinkled
with concern, his brown eyes full of tears and empathy, the struggle to speak
evident.
“It’s
Buffy,” he whispered. “Spike
and Drusilla…they…she’s gone, Giles.”
“She’s
dead?” Ripper tried to inject as
much incredulity into his voice as he could, struggling to stifle the building
laughter. For added effect, he hung
his head and whipped off the spectacles to dangle from his fingers.
“Worse.
She’s a vampire.”
Ripper
stood, turning his back on the hunched form of Angel and walking towards the
kitchen. He allowed his mouth to
curve into a wide smile as he met up with his allies. They were all enjoying the show and Angel’s grief was
clouding his senses to their presence, for now.
Ripper
grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses before slipping his Giles mask back
in place as he returned to the living room.
He even allowed a tear or two to slip down his cheeks.
“Angel,
are you absolutely certain? Tell me
what happened.”
He
handed him a glass and Angel gratefully downed the fiery liquid before relating
his experiences in the factory. Ripper
listened, shocked concern and grief etched on his features.
“I
don’t know what to say, Angel. I’m
just devastated. I can’t believe
this has happened. I don’t know
what I’m going to tell her mother.”
“Yeah,
poor Joyce; I don’t know how she’ll cope with…wait…”
Angel
was looking at Ripper quizzically. “You
said she was out of town with her mom.”
“Hmm,
yes, but obviously she came back.”
“But,
you said Joyce called you, told you Buffy was with her..….”
“Bugger.”
Ripper stood up then tossing the glass he held away from him.
Angel was backing away, taking stock.
“Giles…what
is this, what’s going on?”
Angel
flared his nostrils as he picked up a familiar scent. He growled, fists balled, as Spike came to stand behind
Ripper.
“So
the game’s up, mate. Well, it was
fun while it lasted. What’s up,
Angel? You seem a bit upset?
Eaten someone that didn’t agree with you?
Or maybe it’s just…this.”
Spike
beckoned to Buffy to come to him. She
sauntered to stand beside him, twining her fingers in his and meeting his
passionate kiss with equal fervor. She
looked at her first love and felt only a vague connection to him, a link of
blood through her Sire. He was
nothing to her.
“See,
it seems that Buffy here’s traded up. She’s
mine now, Angel, all mine.
You don’t get to lay a finger on her.
Isn’t that right, pet?”
Spike
turned to Buffy, grabbing her flush against his body as he allowed his fangs to
descend. She looked up at him with
worship in her eyes, tilting her head in acquiescence as he bit down hard on her
exposed neck. Her fingers crushed
his shoulders, her own fangs elongating as he suckled and licked at the wound
he’d made.
The
two were becoming oblivious to the other occupants of the room as they lost
themselves in each other again. Angel’s
roar of anger as he vamped out and rushed at them brought them back to reality.
He
was no match for the pair, though, and they restrained him easily, Buffy
laughing at his discomfort and his pain. This
was so much fun!
At
Spike’s nod to her unspoken question, she pushed Angel flat on his back and
straddled his waist. Ripper held on
to one clenched fist, Spike the other. Buffy
wriggled in an effort to arouse him, her small, pink tongue darting out from
between her fangs as she leant towards his mouth.
She stopped, inches away; as Spike growled a warning, Buffy flashing her
Sire a sidelong look.
“What’s
the matter, Angel? You don’t like
me this way? I don’t believe
you…ah, there we are…you’re packing some equipment below the belt…pity I
have my own toy…and mine’s a whopper!”
She grinned, delighted at her taunts.
Spike rolled his eyes; her punning abilities hadn’t made the leap from
slayer to vampire.
“Get
off of him, honey. Drusilla…come
play with Daddy.”
Drusilla
stepped out of the kitchen, her long dress sweeping the floor.
She knelt beside Angel, cooing softly, “Bad Daddy to run off like that!
Miss Edith was very cross with you.
I had games to play….”
Spike
released Angel, leaving him to Dru’s mad ministrations.
He swept Buffy up into his arms and strode out, needing to get inside her
to wipe from his mind the memory of her almost kissing Angel and his reaction to
it.
As
Spike and Buffy left, the sounds of Angel’s anguished screams and Ripper’s
maniacal laughter followed them.
~*~*~*~*~
“He
fucking got away? But you had him
at your mercy, Dru? You gone
soft?”
Spike
was enraged, kicking at minions in his way and laying waste to glassware as he
rampaged through the factory.
“He
took me by surprise, my Spike. Daddy’s
tricky…he slipped away through my fingers…”
Drusilla
was swaying as she spoke, lost in the madness of her own mind again.
“Oh
I give up, you stupid bint. Xander,
what happened?”
“He
just overpowered her, Spike. I
couldn’t do anything, he was too strong.
And Ripper was knocked out cold when Angel threw him at the wall.
I tried…”
Spike’s
incandescent fury wasn’t abating. The
only way to work this off was fighting and fucking. Grabbing Buffy’s hand and dragging her along he set off
into the night to slaughter innocents.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike
and Buffy were becoming obsessed with each other to the exclusion of all else.
Each day was the same; come sunrise the vampire and the former slayer
would roll back into the factory, their bloodlust sated but their lust for each
other out of control. Before the
door had closed behind them they were clawing at each other, clothing ripped
away in haste as their need to feel flesh on flesh overwhelmed their senses.
Tonight
was no different. Drusilla watched
from the shadows as the two blondes pawed at each other, skin flushed from their
recent feeding and the waves of arousal assaulting her senses.
She slid further back against the wall as they passed, cradling Miss
Edith to her bony chest and keening softly as she felt her Spike drifting
further away out of her reach. “Burning
baby fishes, all covered with Slayer…my Spike…bad dog…”
She
was rocking herself, eyes closed, as her mind drifted off in an attempt to block
the sound and smell of her lover fucking her until she screamed. Her
movements were becoming more frantic, her head shaking from side to side as she
hummed along to her own inner symphony.
A warm hand stroking her cheek stilled her movements.
“Drusilla…shh,
shhh now…don’t fret. Come with
me.”
Blue
eyes met green, the vampire content to be led away by the witch, intrigued by
the veiled promise hidden in her gaze.
“Pretty
witch…all black inside…are your entrails black too? Can I see them?”
Willow
dragged Drusilla away from the sounds of breaking furniture and rapture,
intending to distract her before she lost control. But as she caressed the cool skin, her green eyes were
eclipsed by black, the baby-faced innocence replaced by wanton lust as the
darkness inside her craved the kiss of the demon inside the vampire.
She
pressed the dark-haired woman up against the wall, crushing her lips in a
bruising kiss and darting her warm tongue into the cool cavern of her mouth.
Drusilla responded in kind, wrapping her tongue around the warmth and
sucking it further in. Her delicate
hands snaked into Willow’s hair, fingers twirling the silken strands as she
pulled the girl closer against her. It
felt good to be held, even if the body heat and gender was wrong.
But sometimes soft, warm flesh and the swell of a breast felt just a good
under the tongue.
The
sounds of frenzied fucking provided arousing accompaniment to the scene now
taking place between the two females. Willow
had initiated the kiss, but Drusilla was the teacher, Willow very much the
student in this heated embrace. The
feel of another woman’s body pressed against her made her innocent flesh
tingle in places she never even knew existed. Drusilla drew her cold hand around to the front of the
girl’s neck, allowing the skein of hair she held to fall back to settle on
Willow’s shoulder. The redhead
gasped, open-mouthed, as desire coursed through her veins. Slowly she felt the front of the constraining corset give as
Drusilla unhitched the laces, felt the delicious delirium thrum through her as
the vampire’s experienced and oh so clever hands kneaded and flicked the
tender breasts. As chilled fingers
tweaked her nipples to throbbing points, her skin flushed hot in response.
Willow
moaned into her mentor’s mouth. Drusilla
giggled in response and renewed her attentions to the witch’s ample bosom,
while biting down on the other’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
The demon inside her wanted out, and her fangs lowered as she sucked on
the tender morsel of flesh between her teeth.
She drew back to look into dark and hungry eyes, lapping the remaining
virgin blood from her mouth.
Willow’s
chest was heaving with her efforts to control her breathing and her pale cheeks
were flushed. Licking at her gashed
lip, she held the vampire’s gaze. The
moment stretched until she held out her hand, wanting to take this new
experience further, wanting completion for the ache she felt between her thighs.
Drusilla began to snake out her slender hand – then stilled as she
heard the loud, orgasmic cry of the Slayer.
Suddenly,
the assured sexual creature that was initiating Willow into the ways of the
Sapphic sisterhood was gone, replaced by the frightened and confused child who
took comfort in insanity and dolls. She
softly uttered two words, “My Spike.”