Rating: R for violence and sexual situations
Pairing: W/S
Summary: Now that Spike has had his little surprise, Willow’s going to get a surprise of her own.
Disclaimer: I did not build the Buffyverse that would be Joss, it is merely my playground.
Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.
Special Thanks: Kat for checking over my ramblings, Aden for always being happy to see me, and all the super cool people who send me feedback!
Feedback: Pretty please with sugar on top!
Dedication: For Knightie, sorry it took me so long to get this part out to you, but I didn’t forget! Let the torture begin!
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“Now see, shallow
cuts are the key. That way you can torture your victims for hours without
them bleeding to death on you,” Angelus instructed.
“But that’s the
problem! This guy keeps bleeding on my new Jimmy Chong shoes!” Cordelia
whined.
“Now what have
I said about using the victim’s given name?”
“Always use the
victim’s given name during torture, because it helps personalize the relationship
between vampire and victim, increasing my pleasure, and their pain,” Cordelia
recited while rolling her eyes.
“That’s better.
Now what’s the problem again?”
“This guy, (exasperated
sigh), JOHN, keeps bleeding on me!”
“Well, maybe
he’s a little big for you to properly work with. Tell you what, I’ll take
John, and you take Sherry over here. She’s a real screamer,” he motioned
to the somewhat broken woman slumping down in front of him, the shackles
attaching her to the wall being the only thing keeping her from collapsing
completely.
The pair of vampires
traded victims, and soon the air was once again filled with the frantic
melody of screaming, and the smell of blood and burning flesh. Drusilla
entered the room then, carrying Miss Edith and wearing a pout on her face.
She glided up to Angelus, taking the large curved blade from his hand,
and licking away the blood that decorated its edge.
“Wicked daddy!
You promised that I would get to play with the little kitties!”
“I’m sorry, Dru,
it slipped my mind. How can I make it up to you?” Angelus asked, pulling
her body flush with his and thrusting his hips into her.
“You could let
me have the little one’s eyes,” she said hopefully.
“No fair! Sherry
is mine! If anyone should get her eyes, it should be me!” It was now Cordelia’s
turn to pout.
“Tell you what
girls, you can share. Each of you get one, but make it quick, because we
still have a lot to get done before we leave for our little road trip tonight.”
Angelus quipped before turning back to John and ramming his knife into
the man’s belly, shoving it in to the hilt before quickly giving it a twist
and pulling it out again, watching with a smirk as his guts spilled onto
the floor.
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“What do you
mean it’s my chip?” Spike asked, not even daring to hope that it was true.
“I mean it’s
your chip. I found a spell last night when I was doing inventory, and I
took your chip out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first, but I didn’t want
you to be disappointed if it didn’t work.” Spike took in the girl’s appearance,
the blood that had streaked down from her eyes, ears, and nose, and realized
with a shock just how dangerous this spell had been.
“Bloody right
you should be sorry for not telling me! It doesn’t take a genius to see
how dangerous this spell was. What in bleedin’ hell were you thinking,
Red?!” Spike raged at the shaken girl as he unceremoniously scooped her
up and tossed her onto the bed, before heading to the bathroom for a cool
washcloth to clean up her blood.
“I was thinking
I wanted to help you, you fucking ungrateful dick!” Willow yelled back.
Spike came back
into the room, chuckling at the small girl with the dirty mouth. Christ,
how he loved her! She was kneeling on the bed now, her tiny fists clenched
in rage, her eyes flashing gold. He moved over to her carefully, trying
hard not to laugh in her face at her fierce display. He began wiping away
the blood on her cheeks and chin with the cool cloth, again shocked by
how powerful and dangerous her spell must have been to cause this much
bleeding. She was still mad, but her eyes soon flowed back to green as
he gently cleaned her. When he was done he looked into her eyes with a
very serious expression, making sure he had her undivided attention.
“Thank you for
removing the chip, pet. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it would
kill me to lose you. The next time you want to do a dangerous spell like
that, just warn me first, so I can talk you out of it, okay?” he said gently
before placing a light kiss on her forehead. She leaned into his caress,
closing her eyes as all her anger suddenly evaporated.
“Okay, sorry
I didn’t warn you. I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she replied
softly.
“Umm, and nice
it was. Does this mean I can kill chubs and the others now?” he asked teasingly.
“No. But if you
accidentally killed Buffy, well accidents do happen,” she joked back.
Spike let out
a roar of a laugh, and pushed the girl back on the bed, determined to thank
her properly for her kind deed. He shimmied up her body, pausing briefly
here and there to plant a soft kiss on her pale skin. Willow moaned in
pleasure, happy that their first fight had ended so quickly and that they
were now able to move on to the make up sex.
He tortured her
and teased her with his slow assault, and still managed to catch her off
guard when he entered her quickly and fully. He allowed her a moment to
catch her breath before beginning a brutal rhythm. Both were totally caught
up in the moment, oblivious to the world around them. Neither heard the
front door open, or the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
Neither was aware of anything but each other until they heard a voice cry
out in shock and rage.
“Willow Marie
Rosenberg!
What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?!” the baritone voice bellowed,
making Willow’s head whip around in surprise.
“Daddy?!”
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“Daddy, are we
there yet?”
“No, Dru, not
yet,” Angelus answered in frustration.
“Is she going
to ask that the whole way there?!” Cordelia whined.
“Probably. Why
don’t you entertain her a bit, and she’ll stop asking. Sing her a song
or something.”
“Why do I have
to keep her busy?!”
“Because I fucking
said so! Spike and Willow were the only two that could ever keep her happy
before, but until we get them back the job is yours. So start singing!”
“But I don’t
know any songs,” Cordy started to whine again, but then seeing Angelus’
death glare, she stopped short, afraid of what he might do. She put her
hands together and started clapping a steady beat. “Ready! Okay! Be Aggressive!
Be-e Aggressive! B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E! Be Aggressive! Be-e Aggressive!”
“Cordy!”
“What?”
“What the hell
are you doing?!”
“I told you I
don’t know any songs, so I thought I’d just do a little cheer for her.”
“This isn’t a
fucking basketball game!” Angelus growled, but then heard Dru in the backseat
clapping her hands and chanting the annoying cheer, and gave up. “Fine,
whatever! Just keep her happy.” This was going to be the longest three
hours of his unlife.
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Willow and Spike
were now sitting on the living room couch, fully dressed, while the redhead’s
father paced back and forth in front of them ranting and raving about over
stepping boundaries, and respecting the child parent bond by not having
sex in his home, and certainly not in his bed. The pair watched the angry
little bald man with a mix of emotion. For Spike, his feelings leaned mostly
toward amusement that this pudgy middle aged man actually thought he could
boss the two of them around, and also a renewed desire at seeing Willow
wearing a continuous blush that spread from her hairline, down into her
shirt. He knew it continued down to her pert breasts and at one point couldn’t
help but pull a bit on the top of her shirt so he could take a peek at
those perfect mounds flushed pink and rosy.
Willow of course
had slapped his hand away, but not before her father had caught the display,
and had gone into an even longer tirade about treating his daughter with
respect, and not simply using her as some sort of thing to be used for
coitus. Spike hadn’t thought it possible for his mate to blush more than
she already was and couldn’t resist chuckling as he pulled her onto his
lap and gave her a soft kiss on her flaming cheek.
“Stop that, right
this minute! Didn’t you hear a word I’ve been saying to you?! You will
take your filthy hands off my little girl, and you will get out of my house
right this minute!” Ira Rosenberg raged, looking for all the world like
a yapping little dog whose bone had just been stolen.
“I know you didn’t
take my chip out so I could just go about killing random people, and with
the soul and all, I hadn’t really planned on picking up that habit again,
but can I please kill your dad? He’s really starting to get on my last
nerve,” Spike whispered in her ear with another chuckle.
Willow fixed
a look on him that said there was clearly going to be no killing her father
today. Willow was completely mortified at the situation. What little upbringing
her parents had given her had taught her to be a ‘good girl’ with all that
that implies. ‘Good girls’ did not have sex with vampires in their parents’
bed. Then again, ‘good girls’ did not torture their mothers and literally
drive them insane either. She wasn’t embarrassed to let her mother see
her darker side, so why did it matter if her father did? Because, deep
down she had always wanted to be daddy’s little girl, and now she knew
that would never happen. She thought back to what her mother had said about
Ira Rosenberg’s unnatural desires toward Willow, and why he had to leave,
and it occurred to the redhead that maybe she didn’t want to be a daddy’s
girl after all.
“Shut up!” Willow
screamed suddenly at the ranting man, jumping to her feet, balling her
tiny hands into fists, her eyes flashing gold.
“What did you
say to me?” her father asked, completely caught off guard.
“I said ‘shut
up.’ Who do you think you are coming in here after all these years and
telling me what to do and how to live my life?! What do you know about
MY life?!”
“I…uh…”
“Shut up! I’m
not finished! You and mom both practically abandoned me before I even got
my first training bra, and yeah so maybe the bra still fits, but a lot
of other things in my life ‘have’ changed!”
“Actually I’d
say your breasts are quite nice and perky,” Spike chimed in from his seat
on the couch.
“Shut up Spike!”
Willow yelled back at the blonde vampire.
“Spike?! You’re
having intercourse in my bed with a man named Spike?!” Ira Rosenberg asked
incredulously but soon regretted it when those gold eyes flashed back in
his direction. ‘Must be the lighting in here that’s making her eyes look
like that,’ he thought.
“Did I say you
could speak?!” Willow wailed at him, as the little man vigorously shook
his head no, “Then SHUT UP!!! God, I am so sick of people thinking they
can control my life! Any rights you may have had as my parent, died when
you left me to rot in that hell on earth you called a mental hospital.
And what right do you have to question the morality of my behavior anyway?!
I know all about your sick little kiddie porn fantasies, you pervert! Mom
told me all about it!” She watched as her father visibly blanched, turning
a ghostly pale at her words. “That’s right, I know. I know why you had
to leave, and I know why you’re so mad at us now. It’s not because I’m
fucking some guy in your bed, it’s because I’m not fucking you. Now, take
your shit and get out of MY house, before I send all your colleagues a
nice little letter about your particular fetishes, you sick bastard!”
She watched as
her father opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock as the full
magnitude of her words sunk in. Then, slowly, he turned, grabbing his suitcase
from beside the couch, and left without a single word. The moment the door
was shut, Spike stood and wrapped his arms around his mate, happily.
“That was bloody
brilliant, luv!”
“I…I need to
get some sleep before work tonight.”
Without a glance back Willow headed up the stairs and crawled into the bed, breaking down into tears. As Spike entered the bedroom, he couldn’t help but wonder at how very much like a child she still was, despite all her new found power. All she had ever wanted from her family was love, and they had let her down. But he was her family now, and he would never let her down again. Spike slipped his T-shirt over his head, and crawled into the bed, not bothering with his jeans. She needed comfort not sex. He wrapped his strong arms around her sobbing form and hummed to her softly a tune he used to sing for Drusilla when she would have nightmares. Soon the girl had cried herself to sleep, but he continued to hold her and hum to her anyway, not wanting to give up this moment of closeness before he had to.