SERIES: Nobility (#2)

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: I am neither Joss Whedon, nor David Greenwalt. I own none of the characters associated with them. I also don't own any of the actual people depicted here. Gabriella, however, IS mine.

RATING: Overall, NC-17

PAIRINGS: Dawn/S; W/A; Anya/Ben... and so on.

DISTRIBUTION: Jen:)'s got it... and Di and Nat... anyone else??? Just ask.

FEEDBACK: might make me write more, and faster, too.

DEDICATIONS: Di, Nat, Salice, Mystie, and so on... for making me think about this pairing, and for listening to me go on and on...

NOTES: this fic takes place in the future (2007, which seems to be a favourite of mine for some reason...), and it's all in New Orleans. The Hellmouth has been closed for a while, and Buffy's been dead for a bit longer than that... everyone left Sunnydale, for the most part. If you haven't read the first part of this series (Knightsfall), then you might want to, cuz this won't make much sense if you don't. Oh, and * *= emphasis.

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The tall, dark, and *angry* vampire slammed the phone down and jumped up from the bed. His eyes were showing just the tiniest bit of golden sheen, but he was trying to control himself, at least until the cause of his fury was in front of him. He yanked open his suitcase, and ripped a pair of black slacks and an equally dark shirt from inside it before returning to the edge of the bed to pull them on. He could feel his Mate's sharp green eyes fastened on the back of his head, but... if he looked at her, she'd somehow manage to calm him down, and he didn't *want* to be calm. No, he wanted to be angry, and upset, and... disappointed in his long-lost childe, so he avoided the impulse to turn to her and let her soothe his ire.

The redhead sighed silently, her eyes traveling slowly over his broad, sculpted back. It had been his voice, raised and irate, that had pulled her from sleep, and while she didn't really know just what was going on, she had a feeling that it had something to do with Spike. Nothing else ever got him this implacable. The problem, of course, was that if he actually went after his childe in this frame of mind, after so *long*, one of them would probably end up dust, and... she couldn't allow that. Regardless of what Spike may or may not have done, her Mate would never forgive himself if he let his anger lead him to do something he'd regret... and he *would* regret it... and then *she'd* regret it, seeing as she was the one who'd have to live with yet another of his mind-numbing bouts of guilt. She sat up, and as he thrust his second leg into his pants, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. "Talk to me, Angel," she said softly against his skin.

He almost wished that he didn't love her so much, because then he could have just pulled away and walked out, but... She was his heart. She was everything that made him worthy of redemption. She was his light, and... he couldn't really ignore her, when to do so would mean losing himself again in the darkness that had consumed him for so long. So he leaned gently back into her sweet arms, his eyes closing in pure joy just from her touch. "I have to kill him," he said softly, his hands moving to cover hers on his stomach.

"Why's that, my love?" Willow asked after a moment. "I mean, you only just *found* him again, so..."

Angel almost smiled at the confusion in her voice, but this was a serious situation, and he'd meant what he'd said. "He's up to his old tricks, Will," he finally answered, eyes still closed as her fingers tangled with his, holding him tighter, "He's... *sleeping* with Dawn."

Her brow furrowed slightly, and when she spoke again, her bafflement was still clear in her tone. "So? Maybe he likes her!"

He pulled away sharply, his eyes wide in shock as he turned to face her. "Willow!" he said loudly, "This is *Spike* we're talking about! There's just no *way* this isn't some kind of *game* to him!" His eyes rolled for just a moment when her gaze became a glare, and he rushed on. "He doesn't care about humans, and you *know* it! 'Happy meals with legs' ring any bells? Even with that chip in his head, he *still* sees you all as nothing more than a good meal!"

Willow wanted to slap him, mostly because she'd thought he knew better, but... he was her Mate, and while she loved him more than anything else in the world, sometimes he could be a bit... *dense*, so she slowly reached up, pressing her palm lightly to his cheek. "*Spike*," she said intently, holding his eyes with her own, "Loved *Buffy*. He was *my* *friend*, until he disappeared. He spent almost two and a half *years* protecting humans in Chicago, and he had a *relationship* with that other Slayer." She continued to stare into his deep, chocolate eyes, even as she saw him calming. "And yes, Buffy and the other girl weren't exactly human, because of the Slayer thing, and yes, I'm a witch, but... He was a Warrior for the Powers, and They wouldn't have had him if he hadn't changed."

Angel sighed softly, his eyes closing as he rubbed his face gently against her hand. "You're right, heart," he finally said, eyes still closed, "I *know* you're right. But... *Dawn*! I mean, she's still a *child*!" His eyes flew open then, as she lightly slapped him. "What?"

The redhead rose to her knees, heedless of the sheet falling from her naked body, and spoke into his eyes *very* clearly from less than three inches away. "You haven't seen Dawn in more than three years now, Angel. You haven't spoken with her more than three or four times since. I *have*. Dawny's almost twenty-one, which is only a year and a half younger than *I* was when we *Mated* to each other! She's been making her own decisions since she was all of sixteen, and if she's decided that she wants *Spike*? Well, *I* say more power to her!" Her stern expression softened into a smile when she recognized the expression on his face for what it was... Angel was flustered! "You don't really think he forced her, or coerced her, do you? Because, Angel-- my dearest, sweetest love-- Dawny's the *Key*! There's just no *way* that Spike, or anyone else, for that matter, could make her do anything she didn't *want* to." She looked into his eyes for a moment longer before sighing happily as he pulled her tightly against him. "Now, my heart," she said softly against his cool neck, "Why do you *really* want to be mad at Spike?"

He almost ignored the question, wanting to just... hold her, and touch her, and eventually make love to her again, but... He sighed again, fully aware that she wouldn't be distracted, or not for long, anyway. His Mate was amazingly focused when she wanted to be, and she *did* want to be. "I..." he shook his head. "We were... fixing our relationship, you know?" he finally said, "We were talking, and we'd actually started to... *understand* each other, and then he just *disappeared*!" He held her tighter as the anger flowed through him once again. "I *knew* something was wrong! Knew he wasn't *himself* for almost a month before that, but... he wouldn't *tell* me, and then he was just *gone*! I mean, *Gods*! He's my *childe*! What could have been so bad that he couldn't *trust* me, that he couldn't let me *help*!" He could feel the tears staring to flow from his eyes as the anger drained, but it was hardly the first time he'd cried in front of his Mate. "I *hate* him." he finished, his face buried in her long red hair. "I hate it that he made me feel like..." He choked, unable to go on.

"Hush... hush, my love," Willow whispered, stroking his hair with one hand, while the other traveled soothingly up and down his spine, "You don't hate him." She turned her head just a bit, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "He made you feel like his Sire, and when he wouldn't talk to you, you felt..."

"Betrayed," he whispered back to her, "I felt betrayed..."

She nodded slowly, holding him tighter. "And when he just took off, it only got worse. It's been wearing away at you, my heart, and now... you feel like you have to hurt him because of the way *you* hurt. But remember, Angel... whatever it was that happened to him; whatever drove him to just fall off the face of the earth... It has to have been pretty bad, because Spike was never the type to run, and... I don't think it was fun for him." She slowly lowered herself to the bed, and stretched out, taking his unresisting form with her. "And whatever is happening with him and Dawn, maybe it's making him better, you know? Maybe she's what he needs right now, in order to return to his calling." She gently turned them onto their sides, and pulled back slightly, meeting his sad brown eyes. "I think it'll be all right."

Angel sighed, knowing she was right. It wouldn't do any good to go after his childe with ill intent, not if he wanted to know what had happened. No, all he could do was be there, and make it clear that he was more than willing to listen and be supportive. But still... "If he's just... *toying* with her, I'm going to *hurt* him," he growled softly.

Willow smiled just a bit wickedly, her fingers trailing slowly down his broad chest. "Unless," she said, her voice as smooth and sultry as silk, "That's what she *wants*. I mean, *I'd* certainly understand! You vampires can be pretty damned *amazing* in the sack, after all..." She raised one brow inquisitively when he just looked at her in shock, and a moment later her smile was wiped from her face by his demanding lips against hers.

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

He was so tired... and until just recently, it had been what felt like an eternity since he'd last slept soundly, but... His entire body was singing, his every nerve was twitching, and he was entirely convinced that it had *something* to do with the hot, wet mouth surrounding his cock! And it was his own fault, he figured, a loud groan springing from his lips, because he *had* told the girl 'later', so how could he blame her for taking him up on it? And besides, he told himself-- as his hands slid under the sheet and his fingers tangled in her long hair-- there were *worse* ways to wake up!

She'd watched him 'sleeping' for a good twenty minutes before she'd even *thought* about doing anything more. Somehow, she'd held the belief that it might be kind of... *creepy* to see him just laying there looking like a corpse, but... He was so damned *fine*, and contrary to popular opinion, he didn't really look *dead*, just unnaturally still. And *that* was something she could deal with! She'd reached out slowly with one small hand, and gently pulled the sheet back from his chest, a sly smile crossing her lips as she stared wonderingly at the pale skin she'd already seen more than once. She couldn't help it, though... each time she looked at him, she found herself astounded that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and almost before she knew it, she'd found her tongue sliding slowly around his nipple, her eyes closing as she savoured the unique taste of Spike, and sweat, and... Spike. It had been scarcely more than a moment later that she'd noticed his body's unconscious reaction to her play, and she watched the ever-increasing tenting of the sheet, even while she continued to lick and nibble at his pale, defined chest. Her hand slipped slowly beneath the fabric, and she almost moaned when she held him in her hand, but... there were better things for her to do with her mouth, she decided, and she released his turgid shaft, lifting the sheet from his body as she shimmied down beneath it. She delighted in the slight jump when her hot breath hit his coolness, and less than a moment later, she wrapped her lips around him for the very first time, and as she slid him as far into her mouth as as she could, she groaned, because his fingers were suddenly in her hair, guiding her.

Damn, her mouth was perfect! He could feel her struggling to take all of him, but that didn't matter. It was enough that she was touching him this way... taking him deep into her sweet, hot mouth. It wasn't important that she take him *all*! His grasp on her hair tightened when she would have forced herself closer to his base, and one hand released her golden strands to grab the sheet and pull it up over his head. He gazed down at her, able to see fairly well in the early morning light seeping around the edge of the tightly shuttered window, and gasped loudly when small tears sprang from the corners of her eyes. "Relax, luv," he said softly, both hands in her hair again, holding her still, "Take your time... don't hurt yourself." He needed this, he knew, but not badly enough to cause her even the slightest discomfort, and he slowly began moving her head upon him.

She felt like a fool. She'd given men head before, and it had always been fairly easy, but... she'd never known anyone as long, as strong, as *he* was. So she'd tried what had always worked for her before, but... it hurt! He was longer, and a good bit thicker than normal, and she wanted so badly to make this *good* for him, but... she didn't know that she could, and that hurt even more than his cock slamming against the back of her throat had. But then his hands were in her hair, guiding her gently, and she could hear his voice, full of affection, and passion, and *need*, and she focused entirely on the sensation of *learning* him, and... before she even knew it, her nose was buried deep in his coarse, dark curls, and she felt like a woman... *his* woman! And when he arched hard into her mouth, she whimpered softly, wishing that she could take him even farther into her throat.

"Hell, pet," he moaned deeply, his fingers clenching hard in her golden locks. He'd never known anyone to pick up his desires so quickly, but he wasn't going to complain! Her hot mouth was locked tightly around his throbbing cock, the head of him was lodged deep in her throat, and he moaned again when she pulled back, her tongue flicking quickly and harshly at his hooded tip. "Dawn," he grated out, fighting the desire to let his features shift, "You need to... *stop*, luv!" But when she started to slide her soft lips down his hard shaft again, he just couldn't bring himself to stop her, and he arched hard into her sweet heat once more, feeling that same fire within himself that he'd felt the night before. "Dawn... Dawny.... Dawn... Dawny..." he chanted, in time with her motions, the internal heat growing with each uttering of her name.

Gods, she loved this! Once he'd shown her just how to accomplish it, she'd realized that she loved having him in her mouth almost as much as she loved having him deep inside her core! And the soft, velvety skin of his shaft was almost sinfully perfect against her tongue, and his fingers, hard in her hair yet letting her do as she would... it was just divine! His hips, thrusting up into her mouth, and the growling moans he was making-- it was more than she'd ever expected, more than she'd even *dreamed*, and she almost wanted it to go on forever! But those first few minutes had taken their toll on her throat muscles, and finally, she slammed her mouth down hard on him, and stopped, swallowing a few times, her nose buried in his coarse, dark hairs.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he almost ripped the hair from her head before forcing himself not to, because... she had him deep in her throat, and she was... convulsing around him, and her lips were tight against the base of him, and he was so *close*! And then her hot little hand rose to cradle his tense sac, and she moaned hard, and... her fingers rolling his tightened balls while her mouth vibrated around him was just too much. "Dawn!" he grunted harshly, thrusting himself just a bit further into her hot mouth as he came, and came hard, his hips arching completely off the bed.

She almost felt like her head would explode, just from the intensity of his orgasm, but she swallowed hard, again and again, her eyes rolling back at the taste of him, and when he finally stopped laving her throat with his cool, dead seed, she pulled her mouth from him, gazing up at his stunned face while she licked her lips. She could still feel his fingers in her hair, but they were rather lax, and as she slowly moved up his almost limp body, she smiled, hearing his contented rumbling. She rested her head on his white shoulder, and wrapped one arm around his so-defined torso. "Morning, Spike," she said softly, "Now, go back to sleep."

He heard her words, but he was still too caught up in the intensity of his own orgasm to even *think* about speaking. She... *Dawn*!... had just...! And it had been so...! And now she was...! Oh, *no*, he decided, there was just no *chance* that he was going to be able to *sleep*! Not just *yet*, anyway, and so he forced himself to be at least somewhat coherent, and he turned towards her. "I don't... think so, luv," he managed to squeeze out, his hands slipping from her hair and down her back as he pulled her close, letting her feel his still-hard cock pressing against her belly. "Little known fact about how I got the name *Spike*, pet," he murmured softly, "It has *nothing* to do with *railroads*..." A wicked little smirk appeared on his lips then, and he pushed the girl onto her back, staring down into her wide, hungry eyes as he settled himself between her legs and swiftly thrust home.

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

Gabriella was fully aware of what was going on in her step-daughter's room, and while she was a good bit concerned-- because of the curse on the vampire-- she wasn't actually opposed to the idea. One of her Gods had bound the two, after all, and she was fairly certain that they were only doing what they were meant to.

She was *also* aware of her wide awake, and *very* hungover husband in their room down the hall, and while a large portion of her spirit wanted nothing more than to go to him, it was more important right then that she start looking into the old magics she'd been exposed to by just... looking into the vampire.

It was worrying her that someone was out there with enough training to cast, but not enough to *ward*, seeing that the two were generally taught in the opposite order. It was also of some concern that the magics *were* so old. So old, in fact, that she hadn't even known they were still in existence as anything other than an historical note.

But obviously-- based upon the fact that the sloppy curse had attacked her and infected her spirit-- they *were*, and the words she called out to Rupert the night before were very, very true. Somewhere, somehow, one of the old families was still active, and was apparently seeking vengeance against the vampire who was bound to their Dawny, and it was up to *her*-- in her capacity as Priestess and Guide into the Mysteries-- to find out *who*, and *where*, and most importantly, to find a way to *stop* them.

She sighed softly, and opened yet another book in her husband's office, hoping that *this* one might actually be of help.

Gunn had grown tired of waiting for Angel to show up, so he'd climbed the stairs and stood in the office doorway for a while before he'd offered to help, and now... Well, now he was regretting it! He'd thought helping *Wes* research was boring, but now he had a brand new scale to apply to *that* experience, and he'd discovered that Wesley was a barrel of fun compared to Gabriella. But still, he reminded himself as he flipped yet another page and sighed, he supposed it was better than doing nothing, and... he really didn't want to have to listen to Dawn and her vampire going at it anymore, especially with his wife still back in LA. He sighed again, scanning the page quickly, only to return to the top and read it slowly. "Hey...! Hey, Gabby...! I think I've *got* something here!" He looked over at her from the smallish chair he was sitting in, and when she met his eyes, he nodded. "Listen," he said, his eyes returning to the passage that had caught his eye. "'It was then that Hortense DeLanei discovered the identity of the one who had caused the troubles for their village, and it was with a heavy heart that she reported her findings to the elders. Agatha DeLanei was cast out. Her cottage was burned, and the earth surrounding it salted, in the hopes that the evil she'd sown would never have another chance to grow...' Then blah, blah, blah, then *this*: 'It was only weeks later that Walter DuMaurienter was stricken with a blight never before seen. Foul spirits were sent to him in the night, to prey on his spirit, and less than a month later, he was dead of the witch's curse." Then there's more about Hortense, and a sudden spreading of the... whatever it was that killed that Walter dude, and it says that it was *stopped*, but not before it took out almost everyone in town with any 'gifts', and whoever wrote this ends with saying that in his opinion, the whole thing could have been avoided if Walter had just gone with his... Oh! Agatha was his fiancée!" His wide eyes flew to the voudoun priestess', and when she nodded thoughtfully, he continued. "This guy's basically saying that when Hortense discovered that her... sister?... cousin?... whatever, when she found out Agatha was *evil*, Walter turned his back on her; renounced his entire relationship with her." He stopped then, sliding the ribbon attached to the spine of the book between the pages as he closed it. "Was that what you were looking for?"

"Love scorned. A wicked heart betrayed. Darkest vengeance, and a desire to own and twist that which is not owned... Yesss," Gabriella hissed angrily, "That's *exactly* what I was looking for. Thank you, Charles." She rose slowly and rounded the desk, taking the book from his hands. "DeLanei. At least now we have a *name*. We'll have to find out what happened to Hortense, *and* where Agatha ended up." She started from the room, glad to hear the dark young man following behind her. "That will be Willow's job; she can track them on the computer, see where they are now."

Gunn stopped, his eyes wide once again. "Uh-huh. You know, Gab," he said quickly, "That book is like two hundred years old..."

The dark-haired woman turned around, smiling. "We're talking about one of the *old* *families*, Charles. Even if they've been inter-breeding with humans for *years*, two centuries isn't anywhere *close* to middle-aged for them. No, chances are that at least *one* of them is still alive-- if not more, seeing as Hortense and Agatha had to come from *somewhere*! And hopefully one of them will turn out to be Hortense." She started down the hall again, pausing for a moment by the door to her bedroom. "Rupert!" she called loudly, fully aware of the fact that her shouting would make him cringe, "Get up, get dressed, and get your ass downstairs! *Now*!" She ignored the sudden sounds of movement in the room, and stepped quickly to the stairs. "We have to assume that they're both still around, though. So, first we try to track them down. They'll have changed their names a few times by now, so it won't be easy. Then we have to figure out how Agatha knows *Spike*-- or if she doesn't, then which one of her *students* does-- and we still need to know what he did to incur such wrath." She sighed softly and walked into the kitchen, pulling the old kettle from the stove and filling it with water before returning it to the burner and lighting it. She bustled about a bit more, pulling the sugar, cocoa, and marshmallows from the cabinet, and putting a small saucepan of milk on the stove, as well. "Now, Charles," she said teasingly, "I know that wife of yours has you well trained, so... break a dozen or so eggs into that bowl for me, would you?" Her grin grew wider as she walked towards the back hall. "I'm going to... rouse our lovebirds, since they're finished for the moment, judging by the sounds of things."

Gunn watched her go, and reached for the large ceramic bowl she'd indicated. His Meggy actually *did* have him trained for making breakfast, mostly because she was even less of a morning person than *he* was. Besides, she was usually dealing with the kids, so it was only fair that he take care of feeding them. He sighed, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the carton and a half of eggs he found. Somehow, he'd thought he'd be able to *skip* this duty, seeing as he was away, but... Oh, well, he told himself, as he began breaking eggs, there were worse things. He looked up, smiling, when Gabriella returned. "Any luck?"

The woman laughed, tossing her long, dark curls back over her shoulder. "If by *luck* you mean-- Did a certain English vampire growl and tell me to 'sod off', then *yes*, I had *lots* of luck!" She chuckled again as she crossed to the stove and began mixing cocoa powder into the warmed milk. "Apparently I was wrong about them being finished, but they'll be out soon, so..." Her chin lifted, and her head swung around, when she heard the loud knocking at the door. "And why don't you go let Angel and Willow in? Before he bursts into flames, I mean." Her smile remained as Gunn ran quickly down the hallway towards the front door, but faded slightly when she heard the well-known tread of her husband's feet approaching. She turned, intending to comment on his foolish bout of drinking, but... the fear and relief in his eyes stopped her, and she opened her arms instead, resting her head on his shoulder when he flew to her and crushed her tightly against him. "It's fine, love," she murmured soothingly, stroking his back, "*I'm* fine..."

Just holding her again was almost enough for him. Having her back in his arms, and feeling her sweet hands on his back, knowing that she was going to be all right... It had been fear of losing her-- losing his *world*-- that had driven him to drink the way he had, and while he knew that he shouldn't have done it, he hadn't been able to help himself, because... Just the *idea* had almost been enough to destroy him. Had he not known that Dawn was right down the hall; had he not heard the footsteps coming towards them, he would have just taken her to bed right then, and not let her go for *days*, but as things were... He pulled back from her, meeting her deep, dark eyes with his own bloodshot ones. "I missed you," he said softly, his tone conveying all the things he couldn't say, and his eyes closed gently when she leaned closer and tenderly kissed him.

"I missed you, too, Rupert," Gabriella said, pulling away, "But we have family visiting, and they don't know anything about what's been happening, so..." She smiled slightly, and turned her eyes to the group in the doorway. "Angel, Willow, it's good to see you again!" She flew across the few feet of space, and hugged the Mates tightly before motioning them towards the table. "Sit! Dawn and Spike will be with us shortly, and there're a *lot* of things that Charles and I need to tell you."

Angel shared a soft smile with his witch. It had been too long since they'd seen Gabby, and he truly wished that this was just a social call, but... it wasn't, and if Dawn was involved with Spike, then... "We... we have a few things to tell *you*, Gabby. You and Giles, I mean." He sat down at the table, only to jump back up, growling, when his black-haired childe wandered in, his arm wrapped tightly around Dawn's waist.

"Sire," Spike said tentatively, not sure of just how to act. He hadn't seen Angel in years; hadn't even *talked* to him. He didn't know how to explain what had happened, or why he'd run away the way he had, mostly because he wasn't sure himself, and he had a strong feeling that his Sire was going to want *answers*. He just wished he had them to *give*. He felt Dawny's arm tightening around his hips, and he forced himself to stiffen his spine and meet Angel's eyes. "Sire," he said again, before turning his gaze to the redheaded witch, and smiling. "Mum."

Willow couldn't help it. Even with her Mate growling and staring daggers at the now black-haired vamp, she laughed. "Oh, Spike," she said, standing and moving to him, "I've missed you..." She threw her arms around both him and Dawn, hugging them tightly. "You, too, Dawny," she giggled.

Gunn rolled his eyes and returned to his earlier task of breaking eggs. "Yeah, well," he said, after another minute or so, "While this is all touching and everything, maybe the group hug can wait?" He set the bowl down on the counter, tossing the cartons of eggshells into the trash can before pulling out a chair and sitting down. He didn't miss the grateful glance thrown his way by Angel, and he smiled slightly in response before continuing. "Like Gabby said, there's a lot of stuff we need to tell you."

Angel relaxed a bit when his Mate was back where she belonged-- by his side, and out of his childe's arms. He didn't know what Gabriella had to say, but he knew the woman well enough to be certain that if she *thought* it was important, it probably *was*, and that conviction was only borne out as she began to speak.

End-- Pt 2

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