SERIES: Nobility (#2)

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: Joss owns all the characters you know from TV; all others belong either to me or to themselves (depending on whether they are actual people or not)...

RATING: NC-17, overall.

PAIRINGS: Dawn/S, and W/A (primarily...); also Gabriella/Giles...

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere I've said yes to...

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

DEDICATIONS: to Di, for getting me started with this pairing (as much as I may have kicked and screamed...); also to Mystie for listening to me babble and ramble, and Nat, for the same reason... The CO, in general, just 'cuz. And to everyone who's bothered to give me feedback (you know who you are...), cuz I lost my list... AGAIN!!!

NOTES: Okay. The Hellmouth's been closed for a while, Giles adopted Dawn after Slutty and Joyce died, and they live in New Orleans. It's 2007. Dawn was out slaying one night (even though she's NOT a Slayer), and came across a certain now black-haired vampire. Turns out, Spike's got a nasty little curse attached to him. That didn't stop him and Dawny from getting together, though, especially after one of Gabriella's (Giles' wife) Gods bound them to each other. The entire extended LA gang is in the crescent city now, and certain information on a prophecy about Dawn has come to light... and * *= emphasis.

MORE NOTES: If you haven't read the earlier parts of this, it might not make any sense to you... sorry...

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Giles sighed deeply as yet another fruit basket was delivered to his door. "Gabriella!" he called out, annoyed, "Call them and make them *stop*!"

The tall, dark-haired woman chuckled softly from her spot near the kitchen door. "Sorry, cher, but I think only *you* can do that. *I'm* not the one who kicked them out and told them never to come back!" She winced slightly at the sound of yet another something shattering in the room Dawn now shared with the vampire, and quickly turned, snatching the broom and dustpan from their spot beside the refrigerator. She moved quietly down the small hallway, leaning the items against the wall outside the closed door before returning to her earlier spot. "Maybe you should..." She shook her head, amused despite herself, when her husband glared slightly at her.

"I should what?" he demanded angrily, "Tell them it's all right? I can't do that. It's *not* all right." His fists clenched for a moment, and he flung himself down on the couch, still seething. They actually tried to suggest that *Dawn*..." He shuddered, still hating what Angel and Willow had tried to tell him. "And they should have *known* better!"

Gabriella smiled, moving slowly to his side. "Yes," she said smoothly, "They should have." Her fingers entwined with his, and she gazed deep into his irate eyes. "But, Rupert," she continued, "Can you honestly say that you've never been wrong, yourself? That you've never misunderstood something, or maybe just... thought things were different than they actually were?" She shook her head quickly, her long, dark curls swaying against her back. "And they *know* they were wrong, my love," she continued, a short nod indicating the six fruit baskets by the door, "They know they screwed up, and they're trying to open the door for discussion. Don't you think it might be a good idea to... relax, and let them? They're *family*, after all!"

Giles closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. "You're right, Gab, but... Damn it, I don't *want* to relax! Not yet, anyway! I want to wallow in my righteous anger for a while longer, if you don't mind!"

The woman smiled quickly, jumping slightly as she heard yet another something being dashed to pieces in the room down the hall. "And apparently, you're not the only one..." she said, stating the obvious.

The former watcher groaned, leaning back against the couch. "I'm not being as much of a baby as Spike is, am I? I mean, I'm not *breaking* things..."

Gabriella smiled again, leaning against his side. "No," she answered softly, her fingers rising to his cheek, "But you're not *fixing* things, either..."

Giles sighed deeply and wrapped his arm around his wife. "Fine," he said, defeated, "I'll *call* them... in a bit..." He pulled her more tightly against him and buried his nose in her long, dark hair. "Just give me a minute..."

The brunette rolled her eyes for a moment before relaxing into his strong embrace. It was going to be okay.

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

He'd watched while she'd thrown just about everything breakable across the room, his eyes gleaming wickedly at her display of temper. She'd never been more lovely, and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, what kind of vampire she'd make. Not that he had any intention of turning her, even if he could have, but... maybe the Pouf and Red had a point... a very small, very insignificant point. *He* knew that Dawny would never turn to evil, but if she ever did? Well, he wouldn't give a wooden nickel for the fate of the world in that case. It was only when he saw her moving swiftly towards the large mirror atop the dresser that he decided it was time to intervene. "Now, pet," he murmured, after flying to her and pulling her tightly to him, "I don't think the mirror's the one you're mad at..." He chuckled low in his throat when she continued to struggle against him, and pressed his rapidly hardening cock hard against her lower back. "Of course, if you're feeling *violent*," he purred, "I'm *more* than willing to let you take it out on *me*..."

She struggled against him for a few more moments, trying desperately to hold on to her fury, but... He was holding her tightly, and she could feel him hard against her, and... he was purring! She could feel the soft rumbling in his chest, and the cool, strong length of his body pressed against her back, and... "Damn it," she finally groaned, defeated, "How could they *think* that?" She turned in his arms, and stared deep into his blue eyes. "How could they think I'd turn all *evil* on them, Spike?" She forced herself to hold the tears in as she rested her forehead against his cotton-clad shoulder. "Do I have a great big *sign* over my head? Do I give of some kind of 'future-big-evil' vibe? They're *supposed* to be my *friends*, so... how could they think I'd..." She shook her head against him, sighing as the first tear slipped from her hot eyes. "Am I bad?" she asked softly, in a very small voice.

His urge to go find the pouf *and* the witch, and... make them suffer... was going to have to go unfulfilled, but the thought alone was almost enough to make him growl. They'd hurt her, more than even *he* had realized, and that was just... unacceptable! But he was holding her, and she was crying, and... he'd do whatever it took to make her feel better. "No, pet," he said quietly, forcing the demon to stay inside, "You're not bad. Actually," he said, smirking slightly as he rocked his hips against her warm, soft belly, "You're pretty damned *good*, and I'm considered to be something of a *judge* in these matters..." His hands roamed gently over her back, rubbing slowly at her spine, and he smiled when she giggled softly. "They obviously misunderstood something, luv," he whispered, his lips beside her ear, "Or they're complete and utter *morons*; take your pick, either one's likely, y'know..."

Dawn sighed softly, and dried her tears against his shirt. "Maybe both," she added to his last statement. She forced herself to pull away from him when he chuckled, and she stared around her room in dismay. "Oh, Gods," she said quietly, taking in the broad swath of destruction she'd created, "I must've been really mad!"

Spike chuckled, deep and low. "You could say that, pet..." His eyes fastened on her sweet, tight ass as she began picking up the larger pieces of shattered glass and ceramic. "Careful, Dawny," he said quickly, "Don't..."

"Ow!" she cried, clutching her hand tightly. She stood stock-still for a moment, ignoring his attempts to help her, before finally unclenching her fist to see how badly she'd hurt herself. She was relieved to see that it was really only a rather deep scratch to her palm, and she relaxed, until she heard the low growl coming from the black-haired vampire in front of her. "Spike...?"

He shook his head, trying to force his true face back, but... he could smell her blood. He could smell it, and almost sense it seeping from the small wound, and... He couldn't bite her, he'd reconciled himself to that, but... "Are... are you okay?" he growled, backing across the room. Anything to keep himself from diving at her bloody hand and...

Her eyes flew from her hand to his face repeatedly, and her mouth formed a small 'o' when she realized why he was suddenly so far away. "It's all right," she said softly, moving slowly towards him, as she would do with a frightened animal, "It's all right, Spike..."

His golden eyes were wide as she moved closer, his gaze locked intently on the small, seeping cut in her palm. Hell... he wanted her so badly... wanted to *taste* her, but... "I don't... know if that's such a good... idea, Dawny..." he groaned, closing his eyes when she backed him into the corner. His nostrils flared as the blood-scent came closer, and when he felt her hot little fingers lightly stroking his brow ridges, he released a shuddering gasp. "Dawn..." he groaned, despairing of resisting her.

She sighed deeply when his tongue finally crept from between his lips to lick tentatively at the slight cut, then moaned when his own hands were suddenly holding her wounded palm tightly to his mouth. She could feel his delight and desire through the bond they shared, and that, on top of the pure satisfaction that he couldn't restrain himself with her, was just... enlightening. Her mind spun as she suddenly understood more things than she'd known she was questioning, and she forced the bond open wider, gasping at the emotions she was sensing from him. "Spike...?" she demanded, a sharp, happy glow starting deep in her heart, and she sent the corresponding emotions right back to him. Maybe this wasn't what the God had had in mind when he'd bound them, but... that didn't make it any less true.

She knew. He could feel it. And instead of pulling away from him, instead of dragging her soft, bloody hand from his lips, she was... pressing herself closer to him, and he didn't know what to do! He was inside her in a way he'd never imagined, inside her heart, her *soul*, and... She was his. He could *feel* that she was his! He didn't know how, or why, but... It took him all of a moment to decide that he didn't care, and his eyes opened slowly as he pulled away from the slight gash in her palm. "Pet...?" he whispered, amazed by her all over again. His hands released hers when she nodded, and he grasped gently at her hips, pushing her back towards the bed. He sat her on its edge and pulled the shirt from his body before laying himself down and pulling her to him. One hand raised slowly to his chest, and he sliced at a spot just below his collarbone with his nail. "Only if you're sure..." he murmured, moaning when her sweet, hot lips closed over the small gash.

She almost didn't know what she was doing, but... this meant so *much* to him; she could *tell*! And she wasn't sure of exactly why she wasn't repulsed by the notion, but... She lowered her lips to the cut he'd made for her, and the moment she tasted his thick, cool blood on her tongue, she knew the truth. Finally, and completely, she understood. Yes, she was the Key... she'd been pulled into the mortal realm, and given human shape, human function, but... Her role in things hadn't ended with the defeat of Glory. That hadn't even been her primary purpose! No, she'd been enfleshed for more than that... she'd been made human for *Spike*! *He* was the reason she'd been brought into the world... he was the reason she hadn't been sent back to wherever she'd come from after the bitch-goddess was dead. There were things they were meant to accomplish together, and while she still had no idea of what those things might be, her sudden comprehension of the true state of things made her feel like an enormous load of guilt and fear had been lifted from her shoulders. And *that*, she saw, was why Angel and Willow's suspicions had hurt so much... She'd been afraid that they might have been right, but now she knew better. The Powers had stepped in. They had a plan for her, and for the black-haired vampire she loved so desperately. For she did love him, and that realization was enough to cause her to pull back from his skin and stare wonderingly into his dancing golden eyes. "Spike..." she said, scarcely above a whisper.

He could see the knowledge in her eyes, the sudden comprehension that whatever it was they'd been doing, it wasn't going to be enough for either of them for much longer. No more tentative 'we're really *good* friends' bullshit... no more 'whatever we are to each other' crap. And he was glad, but... he had to be sure that she understood. "I loved her," he said softly, his fingers tangling in Dawn's long blonde hair, "But I don't think I was ever *in* love with her... Not like this..." He nodded slowly at the surprise in her eyes, and let her feel the truth of his words through their bond. "This is... Hell, I don't know exactly *what* this is, but... It's so much more than I ever thought was possible..."

She nodded back, believing what he said, but still... "It's not... it's not 'cause of the curse, is it?" she demanded, her hands resting on his chest as she stared down into his eyes, "It's not because..."

"*No*!" he cut her off, one hand cupping her cheek. "I actually *forgot* about that, if you can believe it! But that's not it, Niblet... No, this is because... for some strange reason, by some amazing twist of fate... we're *right* together! You make me feel like... Hell, I don't know..." He sat up then, taking her hands in his own. "You make me *feel*," he continued, speaking directly into her eyes, "Like maybe... there's a *reason* for everything I've been through... Like maybe I was turned, and chipped, and *cursed*... for *this*! To make me ready for *you*! For *us*."

Dawn nodded slowly, understanding completely. She pulled her hands from his and tangled one in his short black hair while the other rested lightly on his naked shoulder. "Yes..." she said swiftly, before pressing her lips softly to his.

He moaned slightly against her warm mouth, his arms slipping easily around her waist as he lowered himself flat on the mattress once more, pulling her over him. His fingers made quick work of her t-shirt, tearing it slowly down the back, and he pulled it from her shoulders when she sat up, her fingers slowly freeing him from his pants. He writhed beneath her, working the jeans down his legs, and by the time he'd managed to kick them off the end of the bed, she'd removed her own pants, as well. "Dawn..." he sighed, as she straddled him once more and took his long, hard shaft deep into her tender heat.

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

Willow sighed as she stepped from the bathroom, small streams of water still slipping from her hair into the towel she wore wrapped around her. Angel was still brooding. She sighed again, dramatically, as she crossed the bedroom and flung herself onto the mattress beside him. "Still no word?" she demanded, as listlessly as possible, hoping her pretensions of overwhelming despair might make him realize what a fool he was being.

Angel forced himself to sigh in return, hiding the slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "No word..." he said, as gloomily as he could, "Not a call... not even a *note*..." He felt somewhat strange, to be making light of the situation, but... it was impossible for him to stay all pensive and sad when his Mate was beside him, still wet from her shower. "Eight fruit baskets, and *nothing*!" He sighed again, ruining the effect by running his fingers lightly up and down her slender damp arm. "I just can't believe," he said silkily, moving onto his side to explore her more freely, "That I haven't gotten any kind of response..." His lips lowered slowly to the point of her shoulder, and he gently sucked at one small drop of water on her skin before moving his lips to the next tiny droplet.

The smallish redhead gasped slightly at the sensation of his cool tongue against her heated flesh. She almost wanted to be angry at his earlier sorrow-laden act, but... She moaned. He'd always been so good with his tongue...

He grinned slightly wickedly, even the demon within purring at his Mate's responsive sounds, and the fingers of one large hand slid quickly to the top of her towel, pulling the tucked edge from between her breasts. His eyes fastened lovingly on her small, tight nipples as he pulled the cotton back from her sweet form. "I mean," he continued teasingly, his tongue flicking against one hard little nub, "You'd think..." his hand moved to her other nipple, "After all that... *ripe*," he nibbled gently at the underside of her breast, "*Juicy*," he slowly licked a path to her perfect navel, "*Exotic* fruit..." his fingers trailed gently, but swiftly, down her body to cup her sex, "We'd at least merit a 'thank you'..." His lips split in a wide grin as she writhed against him, and he slid two thick, long fingers deep into her weeping core.

Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, as she felt him lowering his mouth to her swollen clit, and she almost screamed when his teeth fastened over it, but... "Oh, you'll be getting *thanked*, Angel," she managed to force out on a strained groan, "You'll be getting the *hell* thanked out of you..." Any further words were lost in her deep moans and whimpers as he slowly, capably drove her wild.

He growled slightly when her orgasm had her clenching hard at his thrusting fingers, and again while he licked her clean. He pulled away from her for just a few moments then, shrugging the unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders and standing to quickly divest himself of his pants before returning to the bed, looming over her. His fingers slid into her hair, and he rested on his elbows as he positioned himself between her thighs, and when she moaned loudly for him, he pressed forward, entering her slowly and fully.

Gods, she loved him! Everything about him was as if he'd been created specifically for *her*, and in the five years they'd been mated, she'd never had even one *moment* of regret! Especially not now, when he was deep inside her, his long, hard, thick shaft filling her completely. Not when she could feel him battling his own nature, trying to give her a nice, safe, *human*-ish bout of love-making. She gazed deep into his eyes, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as she rose to meet his slow thrusts with her own. She could see him holding back, *feel* the demon inside him begging for release, but... Usually when he acted this way, he was trying to prove something-- to himself, anyway-- and she'd grown to love his efforts, even if they seldom succeeded. Her fingers moved to his face, stroking slowly against his skin in time with his deep thrusting. "I love you..." she sighed, rising harder against him.

"My Heart..." he sighed back, a good bit of groan in his voice as he began moving faster within her. The heat of her was still as exquisite as it had been the very first time he'd had her, and the slight tremors which shook her were just as exciting. He could feel her slick, strong walls grasping hard at him, and the sheer bliss of these moments hadn't been tempered at all by their familiarity. No, he told himself, driving into her to the hilt once more, he would never have enough of this... of *her*, no matter *how* many years went by. The love and need in her eyes was easily matched by his own, he was sure, and when her fingers slid into his hair, and she pulled his lips to her neck, he growled slightly, his demon finally slipping to the fore. "Willow..." he moaned, eyelids closing over the flashing gold.

She felt the strong ridges against her skin, felt the slight scrape of jagged teeth against her neck, and she pulled him even deeper within her with her legs, crying out sharply when his fangs broke skin. Her hips continued to rise against him, even as she felt herself flying.

He almost came right along with her, but there was something else he needed, more than he needed to drink her right then, and he pulled his sharp teeth from her sweet, soft skin as his arms slid beneath her and he rolled them swiftly. He stared up into her wide eyes and raised one hand to his own neck. "My Mate..." he begged softly, eyes flashing as he split his own skin with one manicured nail, "Mate me again, my Heart..." His eyes closed once more in sheer rapture as she lowered her soft, warm lips to his cool skin.

It had been too long since she'd tasted him this way, and she knew it, but... she'd been afraid. Afraid of what it would mean, and how it would change things, but... She couldn't refuse him. Not ever. Of course, she reminded herself-- even as his cool, thick blood filled her mouth and she began moving upon him once again-- she didn't think he'd *mind*, but... maybe she should have told him? Ah, well, she decided fuzzily, her senses reeling at the taste of him, he'd find out soon enough. The thought was pushed from her mind by the increasing urgency of his hands on her hips, and his own hips arching into her, and it was scant moments later that the sensation of his coarse hairs against her throbbing clit sent her crashing into another, stronger release, even as she felt him pulsing within her, filling her slick, tight channel with his cool, viscous seed. "Angel!" she shrieked against his skin, the muffled sound drowned out by his own loud growl of fulfillment.

He was in heaven. That was all he knew. Right at that particular moment, he was in *heaven*! Her lips were still sucking softly at his self-inflicted wound, and her hot core was throbbing rhythmically around his slowly softening shaft, and she would never leave him, any more than he would her. His arms slid around her body, holding her against him, upon him, and he laughed breathlessly, wide eyes staring at the ceiling as he silently thanked the Powers-- again-- for letting his little witch be a part of his life... *be* his life.

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

The tall redhead sighed softly, staring at the small house through the pre-dawn gloom. This was definitely the place; she'd have known that even *without* the rather rude 'heads up' from the Gods. She could *feel* it, almost *smell* it, even! The stench of despair rolled from the small building in almost visible waves. There was a pervasive miasma of fear and guilt hovering about the house, and... She'd recognized it right away.

Oh, it was different from what she remembered, but not by much. Somebody in that house had tangled with her kin, and that somebody had been made to *pay*, and dearly!

An angry frown crossed her lips, and she forced herself to lean against the tree beside her while she lit a cigarette. Her Gods-be-damned sister was at it again, and that was something she couldn't tolerate. Aside from the fact that what she was sensing was just *wrong*, it could also serve to call attention to their entire *family*, and that was something to be avoided at all costs!

She sighed again, and glanced at her watch before turning and moving down the street. Five thirty in the morning was just too damned early to be calling on whoever lived in that house. Maybe she'd find somewhere to get a cup of coffee.

She flicked the small butt of her cigarette into the street and walked more quickly. Checkpoint Charlie's wasn't too far away; she could get some caffeine there... She had a feeling she was going to *need* it.

"Damn that Agatha, anyway," she muttered to herself as she stalked through the ever increasing early morning light, her leather coat flapping behind her in the slight breeze.

End-- pt. 5

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