SERIES: Nobility

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: Joss owns everyone you know from TV... all others belong to either me or themselves.

RATING: NC-17 for the series... probably R-ish for this part.

PAIRINGS: Dawn/S; W/A; Anya/Ben...

DISTRIBUTION: ask, take, have... and if I said yes already, then have at it!!!*giggle*

FEEDBACK: is my friend... and gets you a dedi...*G*

DEDICATIONS: for Mystra, cuz she listened to me ramble on and on... to Di and Nat for getting me excited about this pairing in the first place... also to: Kim (yup, she's been at it again... and you remembered!!!*G*), Monica, Angel N., Angel S., Jerri, Katie, Whitewolf Alpha, and Marie-Claude (sorry, M-C... forgot you last time...*sigh*)-- thanks for the feedback, luvs...*G*

NOTES: Six years in the future, the Hellmouth has been permanently closed for quite a while, and pretty much everyone's left Sunnyhell. And * *=
emphasis.

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

He barely held in yet another bored sigh as he tried to pry some conversation out of the woman who'd been foolish enough to marry the Watcher.
And that was a surprise in and of itself... he'd thought Giles would still be hung up on Dawn's dead mother, but obviously he'd been wrong. Not that he blamed the man for marrying the woman who was still fluttering about the kitchen... she was certainly attractive enough, but she didn't seem to be terribly interesting. She'd met his every conversational gambit with a short, mono-syllabic answer, and... he was bored. He never should have left Dawn's room; at least there he could have tried to sleep, or-- more likely-- counted the cracks in the paint on the ceiling. He sipped again at the surprisingly good cocoa the woman had made him, and jumped suddenly from his chair when he heard the sound of the front door opening. The girl had certainly been gone long enough, and he was actually looking forward to giving her a bit of a hard time over it.

He groaned and sank into his chair once more when he saw who it actually was coming down the hall. "Watcher." he said flatly, his eyes returning
to the mug in front of him.

Giles stared at the now black-haired vampire, not sure of what to say. On the one hand, he was a vampire, but... on the other, he'd been a part of
the group towards the end of things in Sunnydale, and he was bound to Dawn, of all things, by a God! "Uh, yes... well..." he finally said, then
"Spike." He turned from the vampire who was apparently ignoring him, and smiled slightly at his wife. "Gabriella," he said softly, crossing to her and kissing her cheek gently, one arm winding around her waist.

The dark-haired woman smiled, returning his gentle hug. "And why are ya home so early?" she asked softly, "Am I gonna be hearin about this from Tomas?"

Giles shook his head slowly. "No... I don't think so. I'm expecting a phone call, though, so..."

Gabriella nodded decisively. "So you'll be in your office." She turned and pulled the pot from the stove before turning back to face him. "I'll come
with ya, why don't I? Ya can tell me all about it..."

Spike smirked to himself. Trust the Watcher to find a woman who thought the doubtless dry and dreary details of his life were fascinating! Besides, if she went off with Giles, then *he* could actually be *alone*. And so what if he'd only rehash the last five, almost six, years in his mind? It wasn't like there was anything *else* to do, anyway. He ignored the woman and the Watcher as they said their goodbyes, and settled in with his cocoa for a nice, long think.

Fortunately for him, he'd only gotten about a twentieth of the way through his usual blame-fest before he again heard the sounds of someone
entering the house, and he flew from his chair at the muffled curse coming from the entry. He dashed down the hall, only to stop suddenly, fighting
a loud laugh at the sight before him. "Here, pet," he finally managed to choke out as he stepped forward and relieved her of most of the bags she
was trying to carry, "Why don't you let me help you with that?" He started back towards her room, smiling at the obscenities she was muttering
under her breath. "And what the hell *is* all this, anyway?" he demanded, placing the bags he'd carried on the bed, and moving aside so she could do the same.

Dawn giggled slightly, despite her annoyance at how unwieldy the many bags had proven to be in the tight confines of the house. "Well, I *did* say I was going shopping..." she began, laughing louder at the look of dismay on his face. "Oh, come on, Spike! You didn't think I was gonna just get you one outfit, did you? I mean, if you're gonna be staying here, you can't *always* wear the same thing! The neighbors would talk, for one, and *then* where would I be?" She continued to chuckle as she started removing things from the bags.

He knew his eyes were wide, and getting wider still, as stack after stack of clothing was revealed to him. He actually *had* thought that she'd just
get him some jeans and a t-shirt, but... obviously, he told himself as he gazed lustfully at the rainbow of silks and velvets she was showing him,
he'd been *wrong*! He wasn't sure of exactly why the girl would get all of that for him, though, and as he opened his mouth to ask, he stopped,
the rest of what she'd said finally registering on him. "Uh, Dawn..." he spoke tentatively, "Wha... what do you mean I'm going to be staying... here?"
 

The blonde girl turned surprised eyes on him, truly shocked that he hadn't understood before. "I mean exactly what I said," she replied, trying hard
not to sound bewildered. She sighed at the confusion in his eyes, and swept two of the empty bags from the bed, sitting down in the spot they'd
occupied. "Look, Spike," she finally said quietly, bending down and pulling a slightly gray and ragged stuffed toy from its spot beneath the bed,
"You... you're my friend, ya know? And, OK, we haven't really seen each other-- or even talked-- since we were still in Sunnydale, but..." She
sighed, hugging the stuffed animal tighter. "I... I can see that you're going through something, and... whatever it is, I don't want to lose you again,
so... You're staying *here*, until you work through whatever it is that had you sitting in the dark, alone, drunk off your ass!" She stopped then, and
glared angrily at him. "And don't even *try* to leave, mister!" she added, her eyes boring into his, "Because I have connections in this t
own that you've never even *dreamed* of, so you won't get *far*!"

Spike almost laughed at the girl's delusions of power. As if *she* could stop him from doing whatever he wanted to! But... she seemed to be
sincere, and she'd called him... *friend*? He'd let her sister die, and she said he was her friend. He didn't understand it; not at all! By rights, she
should hate him even more than he hated himself, but... It had been so *long*... so long since *anyone* had given a damn about him; had actually
*wanted* to see him and be near him; had cared whether he lived or died, that... "But where will I sleep?" he asked her, his mind spinning from the unexpected situation.

Dawn grinned and stood up, her death-grip on the poor stuffed pig loosening. "You'll sleep right *here*, Spike!"

He shook his head, ignoring the part of him that was jumping up and down with glee at the thought of sharing the small room with her. "I can't *do*
that, Dawn," he said softly, "This is *your* room..."

She laughed softly, and rolled her eyes. "I have another room upstairs, Spikey," she explained quietly, holding the pig tightly again. "I only use this
one when I'm too tired to go up all those steps. And besides," she rushed on, seeing the objection still in his eyes, "This is the only room that never gets any direct sunlight. It's the only one that'll keep you Spike-shaped, as opposed to big-pile-of-dust-shaped." She nodded then, as acceptance flowed over his features, and she glanced around the room quickly, trying to figure out what she absolutely *needed* to take upstairs with her. Her mental list made after a few minutes, she turned back to the still-silent vampire, her heart beating just a bit faster, the way it always did when she looked at him. She wasn't sure if it was the cheekbones, or maybe the eyes, but... whatever it was, she'd told Giles the truth when she'd said she found Spike 'attractive'. But it didn't matter, she reminded herself, as she covered her flustered-ness by passing him the anim
al she'd been holding on to. "Here," she said, as she began gathering up some of her things, "Hold Mr. Gordo..."

She was busily pulling various items of clothing from the drawers of the bureau, so she didn't notice his eyes flying wide open, or the way he stared down at the stuffed pig. She didn't see the tears starting to well up in his eyes, or the way his hands delicately cradled the stuffed toy. She didn't see the way his shoulders slumped, or the slight shaking that stared in his back, but... she heard it when the sobs broke free from his throat, and her own eyes filled with tears as she realized what she'd done. "Oh... oh, Gods, Spike," she said softly as she stepped in close to him and wrapped her arms around his miserable form, "Gods, Spike... I'm so *sorry*..."

He held to her like a life-line, the sadly shabby little pig crushed between their bodies as his arms returned her embrace and he cried, for the first
time, for the Slayer who had once owned it. Her hands were trailing comfortingly up and down his back, and he knew she was saying *something*, but he for damned sure didn't know what it was. He only knew that as long as she was there, he'd somehow manage to be OK... She soothed him, man and demon both, and... he didn't know why he hadn't seen it sooner. She was the best friend he'd never known he had, and now that he *did* know, he'd do everything in his power to become the vampire she'd become friends with in the first place! Of course, *that* Spike wouldn't have been sobbing into her hair like a little girl, but... He'd become his old self later, he decided, and relaxed against her as he cried still more tears, although now they were an almost even mix of sadness for the Slayer who was gone, and joy at finding the friend he'd always needed.

She rubbed his back gently, glad that he was actually experiencing some sort of emotion because the little bit of feeling he'd displayed since she'd found him had been worrisome at best. She didn't know if he'd ever allowed himself to cry for Buffy... didn't know if he'd ever admitted to himself just how much he missed her, but... he was doing it *now*, and she was glad! Maybe, she thought, and she continued to stroke his back, maybe now he'd be able to *heal*. Of course, it wouldn't be an easy or quick process, but... it was a start. "Hush... hush, baby," she murmured against the side of his head as his bloody tears soaked into her hair, "It's gonna be all right... Hush... It'll all be fine soon, dearest..." She sighed when she felt him relax, even though he was still sobbing, and slowly moved backwards toward the bed, pulling him with her. She kept her arms around him as she sat down, and smiled as he sat beside her, still locked in her embrace. She shifted her arms, and began to slowly rock him, smiling w hen he disengaged one arm from her to push the clothes she'd bought him to the floor. She'd never felt so... protective of anyone before, but she *would* protect him, regardless of what it would mean to her performance of the duty she'd taken upon herself when she and Giles had first arrived in New Orleans. After all, she could hardly go out hunting vampires when she had a vampire of her own to fix. And she *would* fix him! She would protect him, and nurture him, and somehow find a way to make him whole again, and then? She frowned slightly to herself and continued to rock him comfortingly. Then, she'd let him go back to whatever it was he was *supposed* to be doing, because that was her role. The Gods wouldn't have interfered if they didn't have some sort of plan for him, and she seriously doubted that she had any part in it, beyond the repairing she'd promised to do. "It'll be OK, Spike," she murmured into his ear, sighing when he relaxed even further, and she realized he'd fallen asleep against her.
She carefully maneuvered them until he was laying on the bed, and slowly began to pull away from him, smiling slightly when his arms tightened aroundher. Apparently, she decided after a moment or three, it was time for her to take a nap, and she relaxed beside him, her arms still around him, justas his were around her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Giles stared disbelievingly at his wife for a moment. "So you're telling me that... Spike..."

Gabriella nodded decisively. "He's been bewitched, Rupert. Someone somewhere slapped a doozy of a curse on him. I think that's what changed him."

The Watcher's brow furrowed for a moment. "A curse... All right," he said, after another moment's thought, "But what *kind* of a curse, Gabby? I
mean, what would they have hoped to accomplish? In Angel's case, it made *sense*, but... Spike hasn't been given his soul back; he's just... fallen apart! So what would be the point?"

The voodoo priestess shook her head. "I can't tell ya that, my love... But whatever it is, *who*ever did it..." She sighed and looked away from him.
"They'd better hope that Dawn never finds out about it. But she's gonna, you know. They're bound."

Giles stared at the woman who wouldn't meet his eyes. "What aren't you telling me, Gabriella..."

The woman sighed deeply, not really wanting to answer him, but... She loved him, and Dawn really was like a daughter to her, so... "They were
already connected, even before the God bound them... I can't tell ya exactly what that's gonna mean for them, but..." She sighed again, her brown
eyes meeting her husband's. "I don't think the bond will ever be dissolved. I think it's gonna grow stronger and stronger, until ya maybe can't tell
which one of 'em yer talkin to, and..." she sighed again, at the look in his eyes, "And I think they're... destined. For what, and why, I have *no*
idea, but... the God did this for a reason, *that* much I'm *sure* of..."

He could feel the part of himself that was still Ripper raging against whatever being had decided to mess with *his* little girl. Granted, she hadn't
been his child to start with, but once he'd adopted her after both Joyce and Buffy were dead, and Hank couldn't be found anywhere, she had slowly but surely taken a place in his heart that any child of his blood would have been lucky to have. Also granted, he'd tried to make her into a slightly younger version of her dead sister, but... that was irrelevant. "So what am I supposed to do, huh? I can't interfere with her... *relationship* with Spike, I can't break this *bond* they have, and... What about this curse?" His voice became a touch more academic than it had been as he pried for information. "What does it *look* like; how does it *feel*?"

Gabriella closed her eyes, concentrating on the memory of what she'd seen when she'd first looked at the vampire. "It..." she began slowly,
gathering speed as the impressions swamped her mind again, "It looks like... a net of blackest misery wrapped around him-- head and heart; and it feels..." She paused for a moment, puzzled. "It *feels* like... dark vengeance? And.. love that isn't... love..." She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. "It's like... someone's warped idea of what love is, but... twisted further askew than anything I could ever imagine... possession... a desire to *own*... No need to give, but only take, and... destroy? No... no, not exactly, but... pervert? YES! It feels like a love that wants to *twist* things... make them different than they ever should be, and I... I don't understand it; it makes no *sense*!" Her eyes flew open then, and she began to shake, the shuddering passing through her body in waves. "It's a dark and dangerous thing that's cursed our Spike, Rupert," she managed to say, her teeth chattering a bit as she hugged herself tightly, "And whatever it is, whoever it is..." She backed away from him as he approached her. "No!" she cried, wide-eyed, "Don't ya touch me now!" She shivered some more, still stepping back towards the door. "Whatever power's behind this thing, it isn't my loa, or your Powers That Be..." she explained tightly. "And it's... infected me. Just by opening myself to read it, it's... gotten a hold in me, and..." Her voice fell to a hushed whisper. "I can feel it Rupert; it's *inside* me now, growing. I need to go to my people; have them do a cleansing on me..." She nodded quickly at the shock in his eyes. "It's pernicious, love... I don't want it to get to you, too, and... it would, if you touched me right now." She stepped back into the hallway, still holding his eyes with her own. "Whoever cursed him is a danger to everyone, Rupert... they don't know their craft; they didn't take *any* safeguards, and... I doubt that I'm the first to be stricken."

Giles was frightened, for the first time since he'd left Sunnydale. "Gabriella!" he cried after her, as she turned and ran down the hallway, "Gabby!"

She turned just before rounding the corner, her wild eyes meeting his scared ones. "I'll be fine, my love, but I have to get the cleansing started
before I stop *wanting* to. Don't open yourself to it, and don't let *Dawn*, either! And *don't* avoid Spike! This is *not* his fault!" She shifted
back and forth on her feet, wanting to run, but having one more thing to tell him. "Whatever this is, it's *old*, Rupert... It's a style of magic that
hasn't been widely used in *centuries*!" She turned then, and *did* run. "Check the old families!" she cried over her shoulder, afraid that if she
waited even a moment more, she'd just let the darkness take over.

"Check..." he repeated, his mind almost blank, "Check the*old*...?" He walked slowly back to his desk, his empty eyes staring at the photo on the
wall as he collapsed into his chair. It was the one good picture he had from their wedding, and he was still staring at it, wondering what he'd do if
he ever lost his Gabriella to the dark power that had invaded her mind, when the phone rang. It would be worse, he knew, than losing her to
death... He didn't really notice the ringing of the phone at first, but finally he picked up the receiver and placed it by his ear. "You're needed here,"
he said shortly, unable to verbalize much more than that. "All of you..." he managed to squeeze out, before replacing the receiver in its cradle and
staring at the photograph again.

It was less than a minute later when the phone began to ring once more, and he picked up and slammed the receiver back down before taking the bloody thing off the hook. He didn't want to talk to anyone just then... after all, he had a lot of research to do... on the *old* families, whatever
*they* were. And maybe, just maybe, that would keep his mind off what was happening to his wife.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The redhead looked up, a bright smile on her face, as her mate ran into their bedroom. The smile died, however, as she saw the frantic pace at
which he was throwing clothes into one of their suitcases. "Angel?" she said worriedly, getting up from the bed, "Angel, what *is* it; what's wrong?"
 

The dark-haired vampire grimaced, and tossed another suitcase her way. "I don't know, Will, but... Giles needs us in New Orleans... *All* of us!"

She gaped at him, shocked for a moment, before throwing the suitcase open and filling it, haphazardly, with her own clothes. "You called the
others?" she demanded, closing her bag and going into the bathroom to grab their toothbrushes and other essentials.

"They're meeting us at the airport in forty-five minutes," he informed her, as she threw their toiletries into his larger bag.

"Good," she replied, hefting her suitcase and grabbing her purse from the floor, "Then let's go."

They walked quickly from the apartment, the heels of the boots capping loud against the floor, and stepped into the parking garage through their
private door. They got in the car, their bags in the back seat, and drove out into the sunlight, taking care that the tinted windows were all tightly
closed. "We should be there inside of five hours," the vampire said shortly, smiling when his mate's hand came to rest lightly on his knee. "Sorry,
love, I'm just..."

"Worried," she finished for him. "I know... so am I."

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