&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
"Well, thank you, sir," Hortense DeLanei said smoothly, scooping the wad of cash off the end of the pool table. "It's been a pleasure. No. Really." She walked slowly to her table by the wall and drained the rest of her beer. She hadn't *planned* on shooting pool or drinking this early in the day, but it was, after all, New Orleans. She *also* hadn't planned on playing for money, but her first opponent had insisted, and after that it hadn't been possible to decline the other mens bets. She smiled again at her latest partner, and started for the door.
The long haired young man frowned and raced after her, grabbing her arm. "Come on, girlie, won't you even give me a *chance* to win my money back?" He was *trying* to be polite, but if this *bitch* thought she was leaving with his two hundred bucks, she was sadly mistaken... even if he had to follow her and take it back from her, along with a little... *something* for himself, he decided, his eyes raking over her long, tight body.
The tall redhead sighed, seeing his thoughts as though in a mirror. "Take your hand off me," she instructed frostily, sending a small bolt of electricity down her arm. "You *lost*. You knew I was going to win before you even asked to play." She sneered into his eyes, disgusted with his sewer of a mind. People like him were the reason she generally stayed out of bars.
The pool hustler shivered slightly, his hand tingling as he pulled it away and tried to shake the sensation off. He found himself suddenly preferring the idea of forcing himself on a swamp-croc, rather than *this* woman. "Fine," he almost stammered, backing away, "Whatever you say..." He watched her walk from the bar, out onto Elysian Fields Avenue, and once he was sure she was out of earshot added the word necessary to feel like he'd retained his manhood. "Bitch..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike groaned softly when he heard the knock on the door, but he got up none the less. Poor Dawny had been asleep for less than two hours, and he'd be damned if he was going to let her be woken if it wasn't absolutely necessary. "What?" he demanded quietly, ear pressed to the door. He sighed softly when he heard the Watcher's voice, and quickly picked up his pants from the floor at the foot of the bed. He pulled them on and paused for a moment before moving to the edge of the bed and leaning over to place a soft, swift kiss to his girl's temple. "I'll be right back, love," he whispered, smiling when she reached out and pulled his pillow to her. "Love you, Dawny." He sighed once more, angrily, when Giles knocked again, and forced himself to stand and move to the door. "What do you *want*?" he hissed, flinging the door open and glaring at the man.
If the last few days had been any less tense, Giles would have laughed at the frustrated annoyance in the vampire's voice. As things were, however... "She's my daughter," he said tightly, hands clenched into fists, "And yes, she wasn't at first, but she is *now*." His eyes met Spike's, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that the vampire seemed to understand what he was getting at. "We need to talk," he finished, before turning towards the living room.
The black-haired demon groaned internally. Hadn't the bloody watcher ever heard of *sleep*? But still, the man was concerned about Dawn, and that being the case, he didn't figure he could really blame him. He sighed one more time, glancing back at the girl asleep in their bed, wishing he could just ignore the human man and lay back down by her side. He couldn't, though, so he grabbed a t-shirt from the top of the dresser and started down the hall after Giles while he pulled it over his head. Maybe he should have *asked* the other Englishman before he'd... Well, too late for that now. He walked quickly into the living room, relieved when he saw Gabriella waiting for him by the watcher's side. With any luck, the presence of the she-Giles would keep things from turning *too* ugly. "Fine, mate," he said, almost reconciled to what he was sure was going to be a completely unpleasant conversation, "What do you want me to say?" He flung himself down in the chair across from the couple, leaning back while he waited for one of them to speak.
Giles looked at his wife, and sighed internally when she remained silent. She'd told him that this little 'talk' wasn't necessary, but... "Ahem. Yes. Well." he began, not sure of how to begin. "All right." He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering why, exactly, he felt like he was intruding on the vampire's privacy. But no!, the man was... sleeping with Dawn, and he had every *right* to be concerned! "I suppose... I'd like to know what your intentions are. With regards to Dawn." He was well aware of the fact that he sounded like an idiot-- asking a soul-less vampire what he had planned for a human girl-- but he needed to know... needed to be sure that Gabby had been right.
If he hadn't known the Watcher would react badly, Spike would have laughed himself sick. Unfortunately, that wouldn't do in this case, and he bloody well *knew* it! He swallowed hard and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as he met the Englishman's eyes. "I... I don't know exactly how to answer that, Giles," he said seriously. "I mean, if I were human, I'd probably be asking you for her hand right about now, but... Well, I'm a vampire, so..." He shook his head. "My kind don't do well with churches, *or* priests." His fingers twined around each other, and he lowered his eyes to watch them. "But I'm not planning on leaving her, and I have no intention of *hurting* her in any way... The very *idea* is just..." He clenched his hands tightly around each other, trying to hold in the growl rising in his chest. "I love her," he finally said, after willing the demon down, "And if you're going to try to separate us, you might as well stake me now." His eyes rose once more to meet the Watcher's as he continued. "If that's the case, then just do it. I won't try to stop you." His serious expression turned perplexed when Gabriella started to chuckle softly, and his eyes moved swiftly to hers. "What?" he demanded.
The woman chuckled even more at the outrage in his voice, her hand gripping tightly to her husband's. "Nothing, Spike," she told him, still laughing softly, "It's just..." She turned to Giles, her eyes twinkling merrily. "I *told* you, cher! They're bound, and in more ways than one! Spike would no more hurt her than *you* would!" She grinned a bit wider when he nodded as if to say 'yes, you *did* tell me', and she turned her attention back to the black-haired vamp. "I don't think *staking* will prove necessary," she smirked, "But as her 'parents', we *will* be wanting some sort of formal ceremony for you two. Is that going to be a problem?"
He almost groaned at the thought, but... "Give me a few days to bring it up with her," he said, after a very long minute or two, "I... I haven't even told her that I *love* her yet... Or not exactly, anyway." He sighed deeply, and glanced between the two people in front of him. "I was waiting until I was *sure*. And until *she* was, too." An almost silly grin spread across his face, and the fingers of one hand rose to lightly trace the almost healed wound he'd given himself. She'd drank from him, voluntarily. She'd pressed her sweet, soft lips to his wounded flesh, and taken his essential self within her, and... Formal ceremony or not, she was *his* now, and not because some *God* had declared it so, but because she *chose* to be. "There's no question," he murmured, mostly to himself, "No question at all..." His mind spun through her actions again, and he suddenly couldn't wait to get back to their room; back to their *bed*. "That all?" he demanded quickly, "Anything *else* you want to know?"
Giles groaned to himself, fairly sure of what the look on the vampire's face meant, but "No," he said, closing his eyes, "That's all. For *now*."
The vampire leapt up from the couch, eyes shining with barely restrained lust. "Good," he said hurriedly, "Then I'm going back to... uh..." He cut himself off, deciding that he really shouldn't press his luck by telling 'Watcher and wife' about what he was planning on doing with his girl. It was only then, as his eyes darted around the room, that he noticed the profusion of fruit baskets. "What the *bloody* hell...?"
"Angel and Willow say they're sorry." Gabriella announced. "They want us all to forgive them for-- and I quote-- 'Thinking that Dawny was gonna turn into a big skanky evil thing.'-- Willow's words." She smiled slightly, one corner of her mouth quirking up as she met the black-haired vampire's surprised gaze. "Do you think we should accept their apology?"
His eyes traveled swiftly over the nine fruit baskets as he mentally tallied their cost, and he grinned suddenly. "Let them send one more, then tell them we can all talk about it. *Later*." He moved quickly to the nearest basket, and hefted it onto his hip. "And I'm gonna *take* this one... After all, Dawny's gonna be pretty *hungry* in a little while..." He smirked widely when the Watcher groaned yet again, and with a sly wink at Gabby, he was gone.
"Well," Gabriella said, laughing hard on the inside, "We should probably go out for a while... Unless you want to listen to some music... Really *loud* music..."
Giles was about to answer her when he was stopped by a hard, authoritative knock at their front door. He rolled his eyes and stood, pulling his woman with him, and went to see who it was.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Angel smiled slightly, staring out the window onto the sunlit pavement of Bourbon Street. His smile only grew wider when his Mate's slender arms wrapped around him from behind. "Heart..." he greeted her, his own arms stretching behind him and pulling her tight against his back.
Willow smiled against his cotton shirt. "Love," she responded, rubbing her cheek lightly over his shoulder blade. She completely understood, after the years they'd been together, his fascination with the sun. It was the defining factor, after all, in the reasons he sometimes felt so unworthy. "We need to talk," she continued, her voice low and tentative.
His eyes closed for just a moment, as he wondered at the tone of her voice. She had something she wanted... no, *needed*... to tell him, and... Whatever it was, she didn't think he'd like it. He could tell *that* much already. "About what...?" he finally asked, not sure that he really wanted an answer.
The redhead sighed softly, and sent a short burst of fearful love through the bond that had formed when she'd mated him again, and when he suddenly spun in her arms and stared at her in open-mouthed shock, she nodded slowly. "About *that*," she said. "I haven't been... entirely honest with you, Angel..." She glanced swiftly up into his eyes and nodded before slowly taking his hand and leading him back to the bed. She sat on its edge, drawing him down beside her as she began to explain.
A small part of him was growling on the inside, mostly because his love-- his *Mate*-- had been keeping secrets, but the majority of him, both soul and demon, was listening intently to her somewhat halting words, and as she went on, he could *feel* the demon-y parts of himself crowing in triumph, because *it* had always known the witch was entirely theirs, even if the *soul* had questioned the rightness of that more than once. He closed his eyes again when she'd finished, his mind and heart turning over her words for how this might change things. It took a bit of time, but he eventually came to a decision.
The silence was driving her insane; she was *sure* of it, and yet... she almost didn't want it to end. Her heart was racing with suspense, mostly because she *knew* they'd promised 'no secrets', all the way back when they'd first started out, and she'd not only ignored that rule by not telling him in the first place, but... it was a *big* secret! She wouldn't blame him if he decided he couldn't forgive her, but... she feared that very thing. That he'd never be able to look at her again without feeling betrayed. "Angel...?" she finally whispered, her eyes locked on her own hands in her lap, "I... I'm sorry..."
He nodded determinedly, opening his eyes. "You *should* be, Will," he told her tensely. "You should have told me! I mean, there I was-- all this *time*-- thinking you wouldn't drink me again because you found it... *repulsive*! But that wasn't it at all, was it?" He moved from the bed, pacing in front of her as he said exactly what he was thinking. "You *like* tasting me! You were just... afraid of *changing* things! And maybe I'm wrong about this, but... I think a part of you was too worried about what your little witchy *friends* would think about *your*... what is it again?"
"Cardenterata..." she supplied, still unable to meet his eyes.
"Yes. *That*." His voice was angry, he knew, but he was *seething*. "You were afraid your friends wouldn't like it that you *had* one of those, and that he was a *vampire*!" He growled at the unfamiliar ache in his chest. "I think a part of you is *ashamed* of me, Willow, and... That hurts me more than you could ever know..." He sighed, still angry, but more heart-broken than anything else. He should have known better, he told himself sadly, he should have known that a woman like his Mate couldn't really... He lost his train of thought then, when he suddenly found himself laying on the carpeted floor, with a smallish redheaded witch straddling him.
"*No*," she hissed, furious that he could think that of her. "That's *not* it, Angel! That's not it at *all*!" Her fingers dug deep into his shoulders, and she glared hotly into his eyes. "*Yes*, I should have told you! I should have been completely up front about it! But you have to understand... This isn't easy for me! It's not easy to look at you every day and *know*, deep down inside, that you could do so much better! It's *hard*! And I wake up every day beside you, and I look at you, and I know that one of these days, you're gonna come to your senses, and... Damn it, the third bond makes that impossible!" She stopped for a moment, just gazing into his wide golden eyes sadly. "Don't you *see*, Angel...? I was trying to keep you from being stuck with me *forever*... trying to make sure that you could leave when you wanted to, and now...? Now that's not even a possibility..." She stared into his stunned eyes for a moment longer before crawling from atop him and collapsing on the floor by his side, curled into a tight unhappy ball as she started to cry almost silently.
His hurt had dissolved quickly, and he'd been thoroughly thrilled for just a few moments when she'd started to speak-- well, hiss at him-- but as she went on, he found the anger returning, stronger than it had been before, and by the time she'd finished, he was caught up in a towering fury the likes of which he'd never experienced. What in the *hell*..! He jumped to his feet and scooped up her trembling form, throwing her swiftly on to the bed, and he stood there beside it, growling deeply. "Are you insane?" he demanded, glowering at her when she finally looked at him. "What the fuck is your *problem*! I *love* you, Willow! You're my *Mate*, God damn it, and you've *been* my Mate for a good *five* *years*! I've never even *considered* being with anyone else, and if you really think that I would *ever* let you go, you must be out of your mind!" His hands clenched into tight, hard fists, and he resumed his pacing, much more quickly this time. "And as for being 'stuck with you forever'," he shouted, eyes darting around the room, "I sincerely *hope* *so*! That was what I intended when I Mated you in the first place, so if you drinking me again has somehow made that a certainty...? Then I'm *glad* of it! You're everything I could ever want; everything I *need*, and I can't believe you didn't *know* that!" He forced himself to straighten his fingers, and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. He could hear her still sobbing quietly; smell the slight tinge of salt in the air, and... His Mate was crying. That was more important than whatever anger he might still feel. "I can't believe you didn't know that," he repeated in a much softer voice, his human mask sliding over his true face even as he moved to the bed and sat down beside her. He took one small, trembling hand between his own much larger ones, and gazed intently at her lovely face. "There has always and ever been only you for me... ever since the day you walked into the Hotel... and stayed..."
Willow sniffled softly, and rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. "I just don't understand *why*..." she said quietly, "I'm just Wil..."
"No," he said intently, cutting her off. "You're not *just* anything. You're *everything*! Don't you *see* that...? And I know you're worried, but *Willow*..." He sighed, despairing of ever finding the words. He released her hand, only to draw her fully against him, his arms tight around her as though he was afraid she might disappear, and he smiled slightly, remembering the way she'd sent her emotions to him. He wasn't sure of exactly how she'd done it, but... He focused his mind, gathering together every bit of feeling he had for her, and released it, hoping it would find its way to her.
Her back arched, and her eyes closed before flying wide again under the onslaught of love and desire and plain *need*, and when the timeless moment had passed, she looked at him with wonder, her own eyes suddenly dry. "All that..." she whispered, caught in his chocolate gaze, "For me..." Her hands rose, fingers lightly caressing his human face. "Oh, Angel... I never knew..."
He sighed, leaning into her gentle touch. "You should have, my Heart," he responded softly, "You should have known... I should have made it clear to you long before now... I have no world without you, love... You're my purpose. You." He sighed again, closing his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers.
She accepted his tender kiss with a sense of completion she'd never known before, and she sighed softly when he pulled away. She smiled slightly, rising to her knees on the bed before him, and leaned forward, licking slowly at the base of his neck.
"Willow...?" he said breathlessly, her simple action raising hopes and dreams within him that he'd forced down long ago, when she hadn't wanted to drink him, "Willow, what...?"
She pulled back for a moment and nodded simply and swiftly. "I want to, Angel. Can I?" She almost laughed when he fell back against the mattress, pulling her over him, but the heat in his eyes was too intense for that, so she smirked slightly, licking her lips. "You were wrong, you know," she told him, her heart beating faster, "I don't *like* drinking you... I *love* it..."
He groaned deeply, even as his hand rose to his neck, and he hissed slightly when his nail dug deep into his flesh. "So *drink* me, Heart," he instructed, eyes rolling back when her lips were finally against the bloody gash. One hand slipped to her back, while the other held her head to him, and he sighed in pure contentment. This was the only thing that had been missing... the only thing he'd craved. And now... there was no reason left for her to refrain, and that thought alone was enough. Or not, he told himself, as she rocked against him.
Willow smiled against his neck, and lifted her head for a moment. "Angel...?" she purred, feeling him harden against her, "Love you..." She lowered her head again, probing at his wound with her tongue, and she was completely unsurprised to find her skirt suddenly around her waist, and his fingers at her core. "Pants," she mumbled, unwilling to stop tasting him again.
Angel moaned loudly, pulling his fingers from her velvet depths, and hurriedly shifted about, pushing his slacks from his hips. He pulled the tails of his shirt out of the way, and swiftly positioned her above him. "Willow..." he groaned, lowering her fully onto his turgid length. He sat up beneath her, arms tight around her waist while she drank, and he groaned again when she began moving slowly upon him. He let the human seeming slip away, and when she moaned again against his cool skin, he slid his sharp, jagged teeth gently into his usual spot on her long, pale neck, feeling completely whole for the first time in what felt like forever.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been his mouth on her clit that had woken her. Well, that and his long, cool fingers thrusting slowly inside her heat. She glanced at the clock, barely stifling a groan at the time it displayed. Two hours. He'd only let her sleep for *two* *hours*! Still, she told herself, a loud gasp flying from her lips, what a way to wake up! His careful attentions were swiftly driving any desire for sleep from her mind, and replacing it with an entirely *different* need, and her hands moved quickly to rest on his head as his teeth, and tongue, and lips dragged a slow, sweet orgasm from her completely willing body. "Spike..." she moaned, dragging him up her body and devouring his lips with her hungry mouth. She moaned again, tasting herself on his tongue, and pulled back slightly, meeting his wicked blue eyes.
"Morning, pet," he purred, a slight hint of darkness in his voice, and he smirked when she moaned yet again. His Dawny liked the little bit of evil he showed every once in a while, and truth be told, he liked showing it to her. It made him feel all manly and *bad*. He pressed himself against her, his rock-hard cock resting firmly along her seeping cleft, and took her lips again.
She wriggled beneath him, trying to move enough to take him in, only to sigh in frustration when he chuckled darkly. "You're not playing *fair*," she pouted, giggling when he nibbled on her bottom lip.
"If you're gonna stick it out," he told her silkily, "You have to expect me to bite it..." He rocked himself against her, smirking even more when she moaned hopelessly. "What do you want, Dawny?" he teased, his hips moving just a bit harder.
Dawn's eyes narrowed, and she glared at him hotly. "I want you to *fuck* me, Spike," she said impatiently, "I want you to fuck me long, and hard, and fast!" Her hands closed harshly on his firm butt, and she pulled him harder against her, rocking her own hips, this time.
He managed to keep his growl deep in his chest, but he knew she could feel it. Still, "Now, you *know* we don't *fuck*, luv. Say it *right*, little girl, or there'll be *no* joy in Mudville for *you*, pet." His eyes fastened on hers, and he let them flash gold for just a moment, knowing full well that there was no way in hell he'd stop even if she *didn't* say it.
"Oh, *fine*," she finally said, pouting again, "Make *love* to me, Spike! There! Happy now?"
"Not yet," he purred, moving just enough to slide fully into her tempting heat, "But soon..." He held himself still for a moment, nibbling at her lip again. "What did I tell you?" he demanded, resisting the urge to start moving within her.
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, trying to shift beneath him, "If I stick it out... right. I'll remind you about that later," she finished, a thoroughly wicked tone in her voice. "Now stop *teasing* me!"
He would have laughed, but he'd reached the end of his limit, and he groaned loudly as he pulled back and stroked deep inside her again. "Your wish..." he began, before her mouth rose to his. "Dawn," he said intently, a few moments later, "I... I love you, Dawny..." He looked into her beautiful eyes and nodded swiftly. "I really do." He moaned as she pulled his lips hard against hers once more, and he was unable to speak-- at least coherently-- for the next little while.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Rupert Giles stared at the redheaded woman sitting on his couch. It didn't seem possible that she could be the same Hortense DeLanei who was mentioned in the book Gunn had found. Of course, with being what she was-- whatever *that* might be-- she wouldn't show signs of the centuries she'd lived, would she? And yet, there was something about her eyes... some great, terrible knowledge that disturbed him almost as much as it intrigued. "So..." he finally said, just to break the silence.
The redhead started slightly, her eyes flying to the human man. So," she echoed, uncomfortable surrounded by the sense of one of her family's curses, "Why am I here." She shook her head slowly at the man's dumbfounded expression. "Okay, it's *obvious* that someone in this house has run afoul of one of my... *less* than beloved relatives. What I need to know is who. And which of my kin had the cursing of them." She leaned back and smiled slightly when the dark haired woman entered the room again, this time bearing a tray of coffee mugs. "Thank you," she said, as the woman handed her one of them. She declined cream and sugar with a swift shake of her head, and stared at the brunette a moment longer. "How badly did it get you?" she asked curiously, eyes gauging the flow of power under the brunette's skin.
Gabriella's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and she picked up the two remaining mugs, handing one to her husband as she sat down in the chair beside his. "I noticed it almost at once," she admitted, "So not *very* badly, but..." She shrugged. "It was bad enough that I don't want to repeat the experience." She smiled slightly when Giles took her hand, holding it tightly. "You can tell...?"
The woman nodded, taking a sip from her mug. "I don't know that anyone *else* could, but I've seen it before, so... Besides, your energies are still somewhat depleted. You'll be up to full strength with time, though." She nodded again, reassuringly this time. She could see some of the concern fading from the other woman's eyes, and she smiled. "No, it's not permanent, especially with as soon as you caught on to it." She shifted her sight, once again studying the flow in the brunette's body. "Voudoun?" A small chuckle escaped her when the man and the woman both looked at her in surprise. "It's a good choice for you-- well in keeping with your natural talents. And I recognize the feel of your Gods. They must just *love* you!" She took another sip of coffee, rather amused by the continuing stunned silence. "Sorry," she finally said, holding back a sigh, "I can be somewhat... overwhelming, at times. Or so I've been told."
Giles stared at her for a moment longer, fascinated by her perceptions. "Yes..." he said, after a moment, "I can believe you have..." He shook off his surprise, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. "All right. So, Spike." He almost chuckled at the woman's confused glance. "Spike is the one who was cursed," he clarified, "But before we go any further, there are some things you should know about him. First, he's a vampire. And he's been bound to our daughter by a God."
Hortense could feel her eyes growing wide as the man-- Giles-- told her more, and she knew they were big as bright green plates when the voudoun woman-- Gabriella, she reminded herself-- told her about the girl. It wasn't until they started to explain about the prophecy, though, that she interrupted. "Wait, wait, wait!" she demanded, leaning forward, "The Opener allies itself with Evil, yada, yada, brings forth the Star of Darkness. Yes, I know about that part, and you obviously think the vampire is the Evil it refers to. But what about the *rest* of it?" She stared at them expectantly for a few moments, sighing when they just looked at her in confusion. "You didn't think that was the whole of the prophecy, did you...? You did." She groaned almost silently before continuing. "That's only *half* of it, people, and it might not apply to this vampire at all. Or not entirely, in any case." She shook her head slowly, placing her empty mug on the table. "I think I'd better *meet* this Spike."
Gabriella nodded slowly, and pulled her hand from her husband's. "I'll tell him," she said quietly, moving towards the back hall. She was back moments later, both amusement and a slight touch of envy clear in her expression. "They're busy at the moment," she announced, "But they'll be out when they're... *not* busy any more."
The redhead's brows drew together for a moment, then she smiled when she recognized the soft sounds coming from the direction the woman had just returned from. "Shouldn't be *too* long," she chuckled, just as amused as Gabriella was. She only hoped the girl didn't have any powers of her own for the curse to infect. Then again, if she did, the girl's parents wouldn't have been so calm about the whole thing. She took a closer look at the couple across from her and qualified the thought. Giles was far from calm.
End-- pt. 6