Pairings: Spike/Angel, unresolved Spike/Willow, Willow/Xander
Rating: NC-17 for language and situation
Disclaimer: The characters certainly do not belong to me, but to Joss, Mutant Enemy et al.
Set: In an alternative Sunnydale similar to the one in "The Wish".
Summary: This was written for the 'Moving On' challenge organized by Spren_cious. The challenge was to pick my pair of characters and write about one of them moving on from a character of Spren's choice to the other. I chose Spike and Angel, Spren chose Willow.
Feedback: If you like it, I'd love to know
A/N: For this fic I need you to assume a couple of things. Dru didn't survive Prague. It's not the actual "The Wish" Sunnydale, just similar. Cordelia is there, Anya's not. Halcyon days are times of undisturbed happiness and peace. Hope I didn't miss anything out.
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Swaggering into the dive that The Master was now using as his headquarters, Spike had expected all to fall face down at his feet. The prodigal son had returned home, so bring forth the fatted calf. or a few soft-skinned plump virgins, he wasn't fussy which one. Actually, yes, he was; he never liked having to make do with animal blood, but he'd never fallen for the `free virgin's blood' gag again. Swinging past the `Welcome to Sunnydale' sign, he'd thought that it was going to be great coming home, all that warmth and appreciation just for him.
He had that wrong; he was no longer the exceptional wonder Childe of The Master's favorite family. Even with two dead Slayers in the bag, he was now made to feel like an annoyance and an irritating reminder of past failures, thanks to his bloody soulful grand-Sire. Hiding back in the shadows, biding his time until he returned to favor, Spike watched and learnt. It grated and set his teeth on edge, but Spike could do no more than quietly snark behind The Master's back until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Hell, even Angelus himself had knelt before The Master; admittedly it was courtesy of two broken knees.
As soon as Spike had seen Willow, he knew that there was something different about this one. He'd been knocked for six when he was told that she was only a few years old. She was as strong and brutal as any of them and just about craftier than anyone else he'd ever known, even himself. Then he'd been told who her Sire was, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell straight into place.
She'd been brought, cowering with fright, as food for The Master. With a centuries' old finesse he'd carefully tasted her, sipping at her like a fine wine, wanting to delicately increase the delectable taste of fear staining her essence. Yet overriding the fear, impossible to disguise, he'd also tasted her latent potential and had decided there and then to turn her. Apparently as a human she'd been a mouse, shy and bookish, derided as a geek by her peers. With The Master's ancient and powerful blood flowing through her, she'd become a natural predator, as cruel now as she had been kind before.
This transformed Willow had reveled in exacting her revenge on her old critics. It wasn't enough to kill them, she delighted in torturing them. Some nights, the club reverberated to the wonderful screams and sobbing she produced in her victims, playing a vile and magnificent symphony with their pain. The Master indulged her emerging interest in magic and praised her constant improvements. She could do no wrong in his eyes, for she had been instrumental in helping free him from his underground prison, just as he'd predicted she would.
The Master had been furious after Angel had played out his final game with Darla, dusting her to protect yet another stupid human. Previously he had considered the ensouled vampire an irritating thorn in his side, but had lost too many lackeys to continue trying to get rid of him. To his way of thinking there came a point when food should be food, not servants, no matter how angry he was. Secretly pleased that her rival for their Sire's attention was out of the way, Willow had seen an opportunity to further consolidate her position. She had set a trap for Angel and had dragged him back in charmed shackles to The Master for punishment.
Petting her for the good work she had done, The Master had mused that he still hoped that the problem with the soul would be solved. He felt that it would be so much better to make Angelus sorry for Darla, rather than the weakling knelt before him. Well pleased with her dedication so far, The Master gave Angel to Willow as a pet, chiding her gently not to dust him by mistake in her enthusiastic games.
It was to this new family that Spike had returned, having wandered without purpose around Europe, after the horrific events in Prague. He and Dru. his daft as a brush, beautifully sinister princess. they were supposed to have been for eternity. Not bothering to stop the unbidden tears, he asked himself when eternity suddenly became so short.
Spike found his feet taking him towards California, and eventually towards Sunnydale and, though he didn't yet know it, Willow. His maudlin thoughts evaporated as soon as he saw her. He recognized that look in her eyes - he'd seen it in Dru's often enough. He saw a hunger for everything, a need to possess completely. She was as animalistic and cunning as him. almost as if she was the other part of him. He'd wanted her utterly, to know that she was his and his alone.
She'd toyed with him at first, as he wasn't the only one vying for her attentions. A few torn-off limbs and non-accidental dustings had drastically reduced the competition. Impressed by his determination, Willow had succumbed. or so Spike had thought at first. They had hunted together during the nights, playing a different game with their prey each time. During the day they fell asleep together, naked limbs entwined amongst her red silk sheets. However, Spike was fast becoming annoyed and very frustrated, for she didn't allow him anything more than teasing, lust-filled embraces.
"Prove that you love me." She whined, a wicked pout appearing, as she pushed Spike away once again.
"You're nothing but a tormenting little bitch!" He'd spat back, trying to catch hold of her, but she'd danced merrily away from his grasp.
"Sweet words, more please." She'd laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Told you, prove it to me."
"Too much trouble for a quick shag, you are." Spike grumbled and then paused as she sat back down, this time sliding onto his lap. She pushed and rubbed against him, making him think that if she carried on like that he would soon turn into a pile of mush. she knew she was the one in control here. Despite the wonderful shocks this was sending all over his body he sighed and stilled her with his hands held firmly on her hips. "What d'you want me to do, then?"
A quick feral smile briefly crossed her face before the pout returned. "Daddy won't let me make any friends. I really want a friend. I miss him."
Spike nodded; it was a commonly known fact that The Master had bound her to a promise never to sire anyone without his permission. He could understand this; that ancient blood was potent enough straight from the source, and combined with her power it was a formidable weapon. Add another unknown factor into the blend, and The Master could well have reason to start to be concerned. Spike could do this for her, however. He understood the feeling of wanting to retain a little of her previous life. and if it meant he could finally get into her pants it should be worth it.
So he had readily agreed, more fool him, and that night they had gone hunting again. This time it wasn't for food or fun, it was for her oldest friend, Xander Harris. The actual hunt had been easy; the boy had been out patrolling with other White Hats. A few minions served as a distraction, and Spike had been able to separate him from the rest of the pack. Willow held the boy gently as Spike drank from him, having elicited a promise of making the bite as pleasurable as possible for Harris. She stroked the boy's floppy hair and kissed his forehead while Spike gave the mixed blood back to him.
Spike was momentarily undone by this kindness from a creature he knew could give old Lucifer a run for his money. Truthfully, he had some misgivings about his own sanity at times, and he was having them now. As the boy drank deeply from him, Spike looked down at the dark hair and brown eyes and remembered someone else. He had worried a little that this boy might come between him and his goal, but now considered that perhaps it might be fun to include him as part of the chase, and ultimately the prize.
They had carried him back to Willow's rooms at the club, and then she'd cradled the lifeless dark-haired boy in her arms until the moment he stirred, starting his new, dark, life. A flunky brought a brunette, wide-eyed and shivering with terror, before them.
Willow's peel of laughter tinkled around the room. "Good choice." She told the flunky, and then her attention was fixed on the brunette with a superior sneer. "Cordelia. you should have known better than to touch my things. Too late to say sorry, and anyway, he's all mine now."
Willow pulled the boy's face up to hers and kissed him deeply and lustily, finally releasing him with a push towards the frightened girl. His face changed and the girl screamed briefly before he was on her throat, ripping at it brutishly in his desperation for the blood. Finished with her, Harris let her body drop to the floor and turned back to Willow, pawing at her clothing, whimpering with need.
Willow sucked away the blood moustache around his lips, and tutted. "Messy, very messy, Xander, what a waste. She tasted nice, and you should have shared. I'll teach you. it's gonna be better than math."
She noticed that Spike was still waiting there and a jaded look spread over her face. "So you're still here. bored with you now. Goodbye"
That moment was when he realized that it had all gone spectacularly wrong. Willow had never been interested in Spike; she had just used him to get what she wanted all along. He bit back the urge to lay about them with a fairly blunt axe. he wanted them gone, but hurting first. and strode silently out of the room.
Willow took her new charge under her wing; and whilst he was not as strong or scheming as her, he was certainly just as vicious. Willow made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing more to do with Spike, and while she remained The Master's beloved protégée there was nothing he could do about it, not if he wanted to remain in favor and in Sunnydale.
Amazed at the astounding run of bad luck he was having, Spike found solace in the company of another couple of friends; a bottle or two of whiskey and taunting Angel in his cell. At first, Angel refused to answer him, seeming to be in a mood as black as his own. As the weeks passed, Angel began to talk a little, usually only to quietly return the drunken insults that Spike handed out freely, swaying unsteadily. It confused the hell out of Spike who switched wildly between calling him Angel and Angelus depending on who he was most angry with at the time. Angelus shouldn't have been so stupid, drinking that bloody gypsy dry. that weakling, Angel, somehow kept Spike's dark Angelus prisoner within him.
He would stagger from one side of the room to the other, blind drunk, cursing both Willow and Angel; choosing to attribute his tenting crotch on these occasions to his frustration with Willow's rejection. Often Spike would pass out, coming to in a heap, face down on the floor. Each time when he came to, he would look over and see those dark brown eyes staring intently back at him. He'd pick himself up, brush the dust off and stalk off, looking for somewhere more private to jerk off. He had soon noticed Angel's hands wandering over his own crotch, but every time Spike told himself it had nothing to do with him. He ignored the look that desperately, silently, asked for contact.
Angel was probably only checking that he still had his balls, for Willow was none too gentle with him. Spike wasn't even sure that he still had his, or he would have snapped the bitch's neck by now.
Then, after witnessing yet another sickening display of togetherness by Willow and Xander, Spike had decided to cut his losses. Surely evil creatures of the night shouldn't try to be so cute around each other. it sent shivers down his spine and settled a nauseous feeling in his stomach to see it. There was nothing here for him any longer, and he had the nagging feeling that now she had the boy to help her Willow was planning something big. Whatever it was, it wasn't his fault. or his fight. and he didn't plan to be around when the shit starting flying.
So Spike found himself outside Angel's cell, quietly tossing the keys from hand to hand. He used the broom in the corner of the room to poke Angel awake, fixing him with an icy stare. He dangled the keys and put his finger to his lips to indicate the need for silence. Angel padded barefoot over to the bars, hope possibly lightening the dark eyes.
"Something's going down. Gonna get the hell outta Dodge, wanna come with? Old time's sake, you know." Spike whispered, rattling the keys. He told himself that really he didn't give a toss about this creature's well-being. this wasn't Angelus. He was Willow's toy, however, and she would be mightily pissed when she eventually discovered he was gone. Spike was almost bouncing with joy at having rediscovered his bloody-minded wickedness.
He'd had it with women, he was swearing off skirt for ever. or at least until the next pretty face walked by.
Angel nodded dumbly and waited patiently for Spike to unlock the door. Before he set Angel free, Spike prodded him in warning through the bars. "Don't even think of trying to jump me or escaping. I can yell pretty damn loud before I'm dust, and this place is crawling with fledges who'd love to be the ones to say they brought down the great Angelus. I'm your best way outta this shit heap. Got it?"
Angel nodded his agreement, and Spike opened the door carefully, wondering since when Angelus had become so docile. He didn't know if it was the soul. but he'd had that back in the sub during the war, and he'd still been a fucking bastard then. Had Willow managed what no-one else had done. had she been able to break Angelus?
He took a baggie out of his pocket and dumped the contents in two dusty heaps on the floor. Then he took off his beloved duster, hugged it one last time and hung it through the bars, making sure the letter was poking out of it. Once he'd taken the decision to go, he'd made preparations, picking out two victims, turning them, then dusting them as soon as they rose. He was sure they wouldn't be missed too much, just another couple of bleached blonde bubble- headed rich girls from Sunnydale High, another couple of missing statistics. Really, it beat him why the creatures still lived in this overly-vamped town; maybe humanity was sliding back down the evolutionary chain a little.
The letter he had written simply said that he was tired of it all, that he had hankered after the old family ties. He couldn't fit in with the new way of things, and he had decided to end it all, taking out the only remaining part of his broken family as well.
Complete and utter bollocks, but he hoped she'd buy it; at least for as long as it took them to get a good few hundred miles away. Old Ugly might not believe it, but he had blinkered vision when it came to Willow. a dangerous thing which might still mean his downfall. Not that Spike minded too much if Willow did overthrow The Master; he just didn't want to be around when it happened.
They made their way silently out of the Bronze, picking their way carefully around the sleeping bodies dotted everywhere. Reaching the back entrance, Spike threw one of the blankets he'd put there in preparation to Angel, and covered himself as well. It was daytime outside, and even though he'd earlier on parked the car nearby he wasn't going to take any chances. Taking an unnecessary deep breath he opened the door and ran, hell for leather, diving into the car, followed within seconds by a gently smoking Angel sprawled across the back seat.
An hour later, Sunnydale was becoming just yet another bad memory for Spike as he sped along. He'd been concerned that Angel was going to do something truly stupid and make him crash the car, but instead the great hulking brood-boy had pulled the blanket around him and fallen asleep. Truthfully, Spike was tempted to do the same, but he still wanted to put many more miles between him and Willow's ire before nightfall.
Eventually, he felt himself drifting, eyelids growing heavier, as the rush of having successfully pulled off a plan diminished. The road he was taking had woods lining either side, so he decided to turn off into the trees and have a short rest. He reasoned that the thick canopy would provide some safety during the day in case anything untoward happened. He drove as far into the woods as he could go, and tried to doze off. However, sleep eluded him as he just couldn't get comfortable in the seat.
Spike opened the door and moved round to the back seat, shaking Angel awake. He drowsily got out of the car when Spike told him to, standing there yawning as Spike put the back seat down, allowing them more space to lie down. It was a matter of seconds until they were back in the car, and sleep came just as quickly.
Spike dreamt, or at least he thought he dreamt. He was in darkness, completely black. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel. He couldn't tell who was under him; he had no control over any other part of his body apart from his cock which was thrusting deep into someone. He couldn't move his hands to try to feel the face, to figure out who this was. There were no sounds, not a single response to his efforts; everything was making him feel so frustrated as he struggled to find his own release.
Then he was suddenly awake and found himself wrapped around Angel, his own painful, yet thankfully clothed, erection pressed up against that hard butt. Even more embarrassing, he had somehow managed to drape an arm and a leg over the large frame. He could move his leg without waking Angel, he was sure of that, but his hand was being held in a selfish, tight grip. Steeling himself, as he certainly didn't feel like playing twenty questions on why he was trying to shag Angel in his sleep, Spike cautiously brought his leg back over Angel's hip.
At this movement, Angel turned over, fully awake and still holding Spike's hand securely. His face was a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion, and, for some unfathomable reason, this bugged Spike immensely.
"What the fuck happened to you? When did Angelus become such a poof?" Spike asked as he tore his hand away. Urgh, touchy-feely. what a pansy this Angel had become.
Angel clenched his eyes tightly shut for a second, and then he replied in a low voice, tinged with regret. "She never came..."
"Tell me `bout it. Know the bloody feeling." Spike murmured bitterly, briefly hoping that Angel hadn't caught his flippant reply. Unfortunately, a quick knowing smile and a hand shooting down to his crotch told him that yet again he hadn't been that lucky.
"And what's up with you, my boy? Come on, tell Daddy all about it. Think I know what's up." Angel's hand massaged him and he couldn't stop himself pushing against him, seeking some relief, lust overcoming surprise at the sudden change in demeanor.
All Spike had to do was close his eyes and he would be back, decades past, in a soft bed, in front of a crackling, blazing fire, in an alleyway in the cold rain. He could be in a hundred different places, but ultimately in just one that mattered. in Angelus's controlling hold and in utter bliss.
However, this wasn't Angelus, this was Angel. With a lot of willpower and even more regret Spike pushed himself away from that gorgeous evil hand. "No. Not a fucking chance, mate. You ain't Angelus, still had that stinking soul last time I checked."
Angel's eyes clouded in pain, and he bit down on his lip, clearly searching for the right words. "Yeah, still got the soul. And every second of every day, I still wish that I didn't. It's fucked up my head, made me do terrible things."
This remark intrigued Spike and he wanted to know more, inside he felt this could be good. "Terrible things? Tell me what Angelus would consider terrible things to do. I know what you liked to do, back in the day."
Angel looked embarrassed and refused to meet Spike's stare. Finally he capitulated and admitted his transgressions. "I. I saved a puppy once. Was supposed to be a champion for good, even thought I might be in love with the Slayer."
Spike felt the smirk curl his lips and welcomed back his long lost friend. He hadn't felt like smiling that way for so long, and could feel the laughter bubbling up inside. "That's just precious. oh, so good. Puppy. Slayer. Hope for you yet, that's just about the sickest thing I've heard; twisted and perversely sick."
His laughter was soon joined by Angel's, and he let himself be pulled back into possessive arms. "Missed you so much, my boy... I've been so sad without you; please just let me be happy once more."
Then Angel's mouth was on his neck, fangs grazing against the skin. He shivered with the thrill this sent down his spine straight to his cock, and pushed his hips forward into Angel. Even through the layers of fabric, he could feel that Angel was just as aroused as he was, and the only thought that went through his head was the remembrance of Angelus sheathed deep inside his ass.
Fuck Willow and her petty machinations, he'd rather have Angel or Angelus any day. He suddenly realized that he didn't much care whether or not Angelus had a soul. The body, the pleasure, would be the same, and they could always see later on if the soul could be dislodged.
That was for later. right now he had an itch that Angel seemed very willing to scratch. He pushed Angel over onto his back and sat up, hitting his head soundly on the roof. "Fuck. Ow. Bad idea."
Angel grabbed at Spike's shirt and pulled him down, eyes whirling angrily. "Tell you what a bad idea is. not going through with this. I saved a puppy. whatever you think, I'm not one myself. I'm still a big, bad dog and my bite's so much fucking worse than my bark."
"See you only got a soul in the deal, not any brains." Spike snarled back, delighted by the change in him. The idea of being possessed by this control freak excited him so much he was sure that he was going to come right there. "Don't have to say it - shit for brains - my ass is yours. Thought we could do with a bit more room, it's not that comfortable in here."
With that, Spike scrambled over the passenger seat in the front and started looking for something to help out. Angelus might have changed, but that huge cock surely hadn't, and there was no way he was going to take it dry. He found a bag dropped in the car by one of his victims and quickly rummaged through it, finding a small bottle of hand lotion. Straight faced, he waved it at the scowling vamp still half-sitting in the back, opened the door and left the car.
Angel had quickly followed him out and barreled straight into him, knocking him down. They had wrestled playfully for a bit, clothing being shed all the while. Then the wrestling had turned into more serious tussling and biting. Spike squirmed at the wonderful feeling of Angel's fangs sinking into the crease between his leg and groin, the sparks it sent scrambling his brain, so he wasn't fully aware at first that he was being stretched.
Then something touched that spot deep inside, and his semi-hard cock sprang fully up, brushing against Angel's rough cheek as he whimpered. "Angel. in me. fuck me. please."
Angel lifted his head and smiled. He pulled out whatever he'd been using and threw it aside. He knelt up and slicked his own erection with what was left of the lotion. Then he lay down and held his hands out towards Spike.
Spike crawled over, and with a long forgotten ease, straddled him, moaning as he took more and more of Angel inside. Once he was completely full, he started to rock, twisting his hips and generally driving Angel crazy. Their hands intertwined, fingernails digging deep into each other as their passion grew. Angel's hips bucked upwards, impossibly trying to get even deeper within Spike; after a while their rhythms matched flawlessly. Neither knew how long they were joined, but it seemed like infinity, never ending, always wanting to be like this.
Then Spike noticed Angel's increasingly erratic movements, throwing their opus off beat like a beautifully discordant note. He knew that they were both near and leant forward, pulling off Angel a little, but able to grab at his body. He pulled Angel up until he was sitting at an angle, supported by his own arms. With a final twist, Spike bared his fangs and bit into Angel's shoulder, allowing Angel to do the same to him. Angel's fangs slashed mercilessly at his skin, the pain and the shared blood driving him over the edge. Spike threw his head back, the movement ripping more skin as he tore away from Angel's bite, and howled his orgasm. He could feel Angel's last thrust upwards and then Angel was filling him, all the time yelling his name.
Bodies limp now with gratification and exhaustion, they collapsed back onto the woodland floor, and Spike allowed himself to be held for a few seconds. He looked up at Angel's pleasure suffused face and asked simply. "So you happy now?"
"Perfectly."
The End