TITLE: Rewind? (2/?)

SERIES: Changes #3

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: Joss owns everyone... I own no one... and Nutmeg owns herself...

RATING: totally NC-17...

PAIRINGS: Aus/W; A/W; S/W; S/B; S/Dru/Darla...

DISTRiBUTION: Charity, of course, can have it... anyone else I've said yes to before... list archives are fine, too... others??? ask... I love saying yes.

FEEDBACK: uh-huh...

DEDICATIONS: Angela, for listening about this way back when... also to: Kimberley, Nutmeg, Maxine, Ali, Kim, and Noreen... thanks, luvs... also, to the CO in its entirety... you rock, chicas...*G*

NOTES: Third in my series that started at the end of 'Reunion'... * *= emphasis...

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Spike had had his face face buried deep between Druscilla's thighs when she'd started keening and wailing. At first he'd thought it was an indication that he was doing his job well, until she'd wrapped her pale fingers in his equally pale bleached locks and pulled him from her. He was staring at her now, a confused expression on his face as his cock continued to throb in time with her mumbled squeals. "Dru?" he asked, crawling up the bed, "What is it, love? What do you *see*?" His fingers gently pried hers loose from his hair, and he clutched her hand tightly to his chest as he waited for her to speak.

"Spike..." the dark-haired girl finally sang, sadly, "Daddy's *gone*... and the red tree fears! She comes for you," she continued coyly, "And will not give us cakes if you're not prepared to play..."

"Shit!" the blond said softly, mostly to himself, as he rose from the bed and quickly pulled on his jeans. He sat down hard in the chair by the bed, working on the knots in the laces of his boots. "What's happened to Angelus, Dru? And *don't* just tell me that he's *gone*! Willow's gonna want to know how."

Druscilla sighed before rolling onto her back again and staring at the ceiling, giggling. "He's been taken back, to days thought gone, and the bells in her head are what drove him... she could hear them chiming and screaming his name, so she made them a promise, and their ringing has stilled... but only for the moment, or so the stars say..." She giggled again, focused now on the twining of her long, pale fingers with the silky strands of her own hair. "The moon is a fell beast," she announced conversationally, "And stalks her unwary prey. But she is not to have our Mum, you know..."

Spike growled as he pulled his boots on, not bothering to tie them. Dru had obviously gone off on another of her little mental vacations, and there was no way he'd be getting any sense out of her now, as he knew from experience. He sighed and went to stand by the door, waiting for the redhead's arrival... he knew she'd be there soon; if she hadn't already been on her way, Druscilla would have let him finish first.

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

Willow ran, heartbroken, through the humid Sunnydale night, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She didn't know how it had happened, but her Mate was *gone*! Someone had somehow taken him away, and left in his place that pallid, brooding bastard Angel! She felt as though her innards had been ripped away, and she was sure that somewhere, deep inside her dead body, she was bleeding out. Gone now were the nights of torture they had planned; the swift destruction of everything good and right in this pitiful town was a memory instead of an inevitability, and... she was lost. She couldn't find her way to the creature she'd become, couldn't even begin to figure a next step. Her mind kept flashing back to that moment... the moment when he'd opened his eyes again and looked into hers and she'd seen... not the happy malice of the one she loved, but the tormented regret of the one she'd thought long gone. She sobbed deeply, her tears flowing faster as she approached the drive of the Sunnydale Hilton. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in her Mate's cool embrace, but that just wasn't possible... he was *gone*, and she didn't have any idea of how to get him back! Now that he was all souled again, she knew that he'd stay away from her... probably be all self-flagellating over the fact that he'd turned her, not to mention the things they'd been up to since she'd first set him free in LA. But he was her *Mate*... or was he, she wondered suddenly, as she flew through the lobby, ignoring the surprised looks from the humans manning the desk. She dashed into the elevator when the doors opened and stabbed repeatedly at the button for her floor. *Was* he still her Mate? Or did that title only apply to Angelus? Did it matter that he was all souled again, since the demon was still there within him? She shook her head, unsure, as the elevator stopped and she stepped out into the hallway. Her eyes filled again as she stared at the door of the suite where she'd been so happy with him, and she turned away, glancing quickly at the door to the room Spike was sharing with the two other members of their little family. Spike... she thought. Spike would be able to help her. She sniffled a bit, and wiped at her eyes before going to his door and knocking hard.

He'd been waiting for what felt like hours, but he knew that it had really been only minutes, and when he heard her knocking at his door, he was ready. He swung the door open swiftly, and stepped through, gazing down into her sorrowful eyes. "I know, pet," he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around her, "Dru saw it and told me..." He bowed his head over hers when her arms went around his waist, and although his eyes widened slightly when he felt her lips on his chest, he was still glad that he hadn't thought to put his shirt back on. "Red?" he almost moaned as his cock began twitching in the tight confines of his jeans, "Red, luv..." He growled slightly when she grazed his pale skin with her fangs, thrusting his denim-covered erection against her leather-clad stomach as she licked angrily at the slowly seeping wound she'd just given him, and he made no objection when she tugged him towards her suite... Angelus was gone, after all, but he was sure that his Sire would have wanted him to comfort his Mate, and if he had *his* way, he was going to 'comfort' her unconscious.

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

Nutmeg gazed about the silent magic shop, wondering just how long she was expected to keep up the pointless vigil. She had felt the power flow through her, and she knew that Mr. Giles had felt it too, since he'd been in on the spell, as well. As far as she was concerned, they were just wasting time that could be better spent in other pursuits. Finally, she cleared her throat, sighing to herself when most of those assembled in the room jumped at the unexpected sound. "OK," she said carefully, "It's done, and I, at least, know it worked, so I'm gonna get out of here for the moment. I'll be back in the morning, though..." She sighed again, out loud this time, when the dark-haired young man, Xander, objected.

"Wait," he said desperately, "How do you *know*? Willow hasn't called us or anything! If she's all soul-having, she should have at least called by now..."

Nutmeg shook her head and extended a hand to her honey. "I *felt* it, Xander," she replied slowly, smiling slightly at Gunn when he engulfed her hand in his own. "I sent out enough raw power to soul a *dozen* vampires, and since it didn't come back on me, I know that it worked... Angel and Willow are both the way they were before the last time they were changed, and from what Mr. Giles told me, it'll take them a little while to sort out what's happened to them. Frankly," she said soothingly, speaking to the worry in the young man's eyes, "I'd be more concerned if we *had* heard from either of them this soon. Give it time, Xander... if we haven't heard anything by this time tomorrow, *then* you can worry, OK?" She nodded, satisfied that he understood, when he sighed and turned to his girlfriend. "C'mon, baby," she said softly to Gunn, "I've got the kick suite at the Holiday Inn Sunnydale..." She giggled softly as he whispered in her ear, and they left, calling a quick goodbye over their shoulders.

Giles watched them go, knowing that everything the girl had said was right... it *would* take the two vampires a little while to process what had happened to them, and then to begin coming to terms with it. It wasn't going to be easy for either of them... he only hoped that they'd prove strong enough to cope.

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

Angel sighed deeply, staring once again around the living room of the mansion he'd hoped never to see again, but... he hadn't known where else to go. He sat down slowly on the dusty floor, his mind once again re-playing the events that had occurred since he'd awoken to find himself chained to that bed in LA. There was so much for him to regret... he'd turned Willow, for one thing... the girl he'd loved more than anything in the world, the one bright, shining spot in what he laughingly called his life... and he'd turned her, given her a demon of her very own... That was the biggest thing he had to regret; everything else was just... not important. The men they'd killed, the two girls in the clothing store, even the little old lady and her dog... those things didn't matter to him. Willow was the only thing he had to regret, and the problem was.... he *didn't*. There was nothing within him, in either soul or demon, that was sorry that he'd made her immortal. Not one single slight concern that he'd done the wrong thing. The girl was a marvel as a demon; she was finally showing the brilliance that he'd always known she was capable of, and... he was *glad*; happy even. Happy that he'd been able to give her this chance to shine, to truly be everything that she'd always been afraid of trying to be.

He frowned as the demon spoke in his mind, but there was nothing he could say to refute its words. She *was* glorious, and she *was* perfect for it... him... *them*. Unfortunately, he'd seen the look in her eyes, on her face, when she'd realized that he was souled again, and... there was no way she'd ever let him near her now. And even if she *did*, he wouldn't be able to stand it. To look at her and know that she hated him... that every time she saw him, she was wishing him gone. Angelus had Mated the girl, and quite frankly, Angel couldn't blame him. Hell, he'd have done the same if he'd had the chance. And that was the other thing that was bothering him, aside from the fact that he wasn't bothered by the things he'd done while evil. She was his Mate, but... she *wasn't*.

He could *feel* her, deep inside, yet she didn't want anything to do with him, and it was already making him crazy! He didn't think that he'd be able to stand much of the sensation, either, before he went on a rampage the likes of which even Angelus would envy. He *needed* her, needed to feel her beside him, above him, beneath him... needed to feel her fingers on his skin, her teeth tearing into his flesh, her wet little tongue lapping contentedly at his skin while she fed on his slowly seeping blood... He groaned then, rolling onto his side, unmindful of the dust he was becoming covered in as one hand slid down to rub his achingly hard shaft through the leather pants he still wore. His eyes fluttered closed as he replayed, in his mind, the last time they'd made wild, crazed love before this... horror had been perpetrated upon him.

He remembered the way she'd felt, writhing madly beneath him, and her swift mastery, a little later, of the riding crop he'd liberated from the leather shop... the rise and fall of her arm had been pure poetry in motion, and she'd seemed to have a natural feel for the amount of force he'd desired... He groaned again, thumbing the button of his pants through the hole, and slowly slid his zipper down, sighing deeply when his throbbing cock sprang free. He lay down on his back then, one hand closing about himself, and stroked his hardness in time with her remembered movements...

She had used the crop on him well, he recalled, and when she'd finally had him begging, she'd slid up his tight, wanting body, pressing sharp kisses to his spotted skin every few inches. It had been another type of torture entirely, and he'd loved it... She had stopped for a while at his nipples, and he remembered the threatening growl he'd released, and the way she'd met his eyes and laughed, not even a little bit afraid. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, picturing her just as she'd been when she'd finally, *finally* slid her tight, wet core completely down his turgid shaft. It had been bliss. He'd watched her, his hands gripping tightly on her perpetually bruised hips, as she slammed herself onto him repeatedly. He heard again, in his mind, the loud whimpers and moans she'd made when he'd flipped them over and rammed himself deep into her, thrusting so hard he was surprised that he hadn't broken her back, or his own...

His hand was moving faster now as he imagined she was there, and he knew that he was grunting wildly into the empty air, but... it didn't matter. He would worry about his dignity later, because right then... right then, he just wanted to forget everything but what she felt like... what she made *him* feel like. She had looked up at him then, with such wickedness and longing, that he'd known there would never be anyone else for him, and he'd gasped harshly as her face slipped to her demon's features... no one had ever been so lovely, he knew... the feel of her beneath him had been amazing, and the sudden shiver of pain when her fangs had slashed his chest had been... perfect. He'd managed to hold out for a little while longer, driving into her even harder and faster, his growls and moans spurred on by her own muffled groans, and when he *had* cum, it had felt like he'd never be able to stop...

He came back to himself, still laying on the dust covered floor, only now his hand, and belly, and chest were liberally splattered with the evidence of his need for his Willow, and as he slowly sat up, he made up his mind. It didn't matter what it took, he was going to re-claim his Mate. She was *his*. Regardless of whether she hated his soul or not, she was his, and... he *would* have her. And if, in the course of having her back, he lost his soul again, well then... so be it. He'd given his all to the PTBs, tried so hard to be worthy and do good things, and... they'd done nothing but heap more heart-ache and regret upon him. He couldn't do it anymore, or... No, he *wouldn't* do it anymore. Their vague promise of 'someday' just wasn't good enough, and he'd made up his mind. Let them find another warrior, one who would accept their unspoken, but always implied, promises of a happy future. He'd *found* his happiness, and unless he missed his guess, she was currently in the Honeymoon Suite of the Sunnydale Hilton.

He stood then, and made his way slowly to his old bedroom. The sun would be up soon, and he needed to get some rest, because when he woke up... First, he had some people to see, but after that?... After that, he had a redhead to re-claim as his own. Of course, a shower would be good, too, he realized, as he stripped the dust-covered leather from his sore body and headed off towards the bathroom.

End-- Pt 2
 

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