Standing the Test of Time

Author: Erin-Starlight

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I making money off this. This is just for fun.

Summary: When captured in the aftermath of a battle Spike finds himself at the mercy of his old rival--Count Dracula. Will he be saved before it’s too late or will he be lulled into something even more dangerous than the Counts’ wrath?

Warning: This is slash. It will have some Spike/Dracula and Spike/Angel in it. This is a challenge I took up to do a Dracula slash fic with the guys. I'm not usually a slash writer but I did it for this challenge, where I had to set in up some in my last fic.

Authors Note: This story takes place after my one shot “William Restored.”

Spoilers: For the Peter David IDW comics Spike vs. Dracula 1-5.

Journal of Dracula,

Disciplining Spike proved to be a more tantalizing task than I had anticipated. Throughout the encounter he glared up at me with those bright soulful eyes of his. They were piecing, as if he could tell all my secrets at a glance and found them humorous. His shoulders were squared unwilling to show weakness, a head that while threatening to droop was no allowed to do so. Every movement of his protesting body showed his intransigence to obey my will even in light of the beating he was suffering.

"You are rather slow today Spike, is the workload too much for you?" Dracula said in ways of a greeting when the younger vampire finally entered the library. The blond was twenty minutes late spotting a new bruise on his right cheek from the unnamed stallion that he had not been swift enough to elude that night. From a location hidden from Spikes’ sight the dark lord had watched the spectacle.

Peter had been forced to help more than he was suppose to in order for the blond to finish his labor in time to reach cover from the rising sun. The boys’ feeble attempts did not aid Spike much as he was still recovering from his own injuries. Yet by some miracle they had finished and Spike was allowed to feast on his swine blood as a reward.

He was not sure why these difficulties of his foe were not as enjoyable as they previously were. Maybe it was the was the fire within this lowly vampire seemed a little muted. The tiredness in the weary face and the sagging of the shoulders.

"I can handle anything you can throw at me, you self-righteous wanker. Which is more than I can say for you. You’d faint if your dainty little hands had to lift a finger." Spike replied carelessly tossing the damage books onto a pile on the floor.

The irksome nature of Spike irritated the Counts’ nerves once more and he found it both bothersome and strangely amusing. Which was odd as he never thought of any of the blonds’ antic as entertaining before.

Dracula wandered in and out of the library to attended to his usual business checking up on his troublesome prisoner whenever he was able. Hours had passed when he had returned from yet another useless meeting with Ilie, who had yet to locate the elder. The Count had wanted to relax from his stressful day but instead of going to his chambers or office he found himself drawn to Spike. He found the younger vampire had given himself a break and was hiding among the bookcases leaning against the wall.

His attention was too captured in what he was reading to sense the other vampires’ presence as he clutched a small worn book. This intrigued Dracula and he strained to see the title of the novel. He would surmise that it was one of the tasteless volumes that Elsa and her confidantes found pleasing. The kind that he loathed with every fiber of his being for the platitudinal aspects of the cheaply viewed "romance."

Fully expecting that he was astonished to find that Spike was reading the works of Lord Byron with an intense concentration. He had never seen the blond with a book except for the poorly written tome that had been written about himself and Spike had only gotten it for his beloved Drusilla. Without the mocking expressions, modern clothes, or the attitude Spike looked strangely...softer.

His features seemed almost angelic without the harshness. He noted that the bleach blond hair was now starting to fade away as Spikes’ natural color roots were showing. Dracula recalled that he had not seen the real shade in decades, it was much more preferable. He wonder how much longer it would take to be rid of the ghastly white/blond locks.

When Spike shifted suddenly Dracula found himself recoiling further into the shadows. He knew that he should have ordered the other vampire to get back to his duties but he was reluctant to do so for some unknown reason. Scowling he slipped out of the room before Spike could detect him.

The next night brought more aggravating news that did not help the increasingly restless Count. He had hardly slept, had little hunger and was easy to anger. Servants were frightened, soldiers became yes men and the brides were strangely sedated. Obligations kept the lord in conferences too long to watch the progress of Spike, leaving the other vampire as one of the few that had been spared from his foul mood.

Miahi was on the move preaching about the new order rather than causing mayhem which was a good sign to send out Ilie to search for his tribe. Once they were united the elder and the Count could finally plan a course of action.

Finally relieved to have finished the galling meetings he went to retire to his chambers when he happened on a exhausted Spike in the hallway. At once he was overwhelmed by the smell of the stables that came from the other. They were much stronger than they should have been.

"Do you not bathe, boy? You should not have this stench at this hour!"

"Look you sodding muppet I’ve had it with your high and mighty remarks!" Spike fumed.

"Silence!" Dracula said yanking him by the band on his left wrist. "Madam Drake!"

"Yes, sir?" She answered nervously. The Count spoke in Romanian at a fast pace that she could barely keep up with despite her many years in his service. Quickly agreeing she called to the other servants to assist her.

Spike was uncertain how to react to this Dracula that seemed to have fallen off his rocker. All he could do was mutter nasty remarks as he was half dragged up the stairs struggling not to fall. His wrists were flaring with the searing pain letting him know that anymore resistance would be met with more agony.

When they made it to their destination Spike felt confused glancing at the other man. Still speaking in Romanian Dracula pulled the bewildered vampire inside. It was the room Spike was currently occuping in a disordered state due to his rushed start when he was awakened for his chores. Glaring at the mess Dracula pushed Spike into a chair with such force it fell against the wall with a loud smack. When Spike made to get up the Count intercepted bending over to grip the arms of the chair.

"I am not finished speaking with you, Spike. You will show manners and be still and silent. I will make this clear so even you can not misunderstand my meaning. Each day you are given tasks to do that you must complete to survive in my home. You have been slipping as of late and have not met my requirements, one of which is bathing regularly.

"That is unacceptable to me. You will meet my standards Spike, one way or another. I do not care if I have to throw you in the pond myself, I will make sure that you obey my commands. As I regretfully can not do so this late nor afford to devote any time to your lack of hygenie I am afraid that matter will be dealt with by others. You will not talk back to me and will comply to my wishes though."

Looking over to the source of the soft footfalls Dracula called out to the intruder never releasing his grip of the chair. "Yes Anselina, what is it?"

"Madam Drake is rushing and says that they will have to use our water instead. They will be here shortly."

"Good." He responded then for her ears only added. "I do hope you are not complaining my love."

"Of course not, I bathed earlier, though I'd wager Aleera is most crossed." She nodded respectly as she turned to leave give her lover a curious look as she left.

A group of servants then arrived and entered after their master bid them to hurry up. Spike stared on unsure if he was seeing right as stream rose from the many buckets. Filing into the bathroom they filled the tub with the hot water passing the empty buckets back and forth obvious wanting to exist as soon as they could.

Pointing at a select few of the servants Dracula spoke in a harsh voice instructing them about. Spike wished he could understand more, his progress in recalling the language was improving but he wasn't there yet. All of the women left in a rush one even casting a shy regretful glance back at him. Dracula himself strolled out beckoning one of the men towards him as Spike was ushered into the bathroom which was shut with a bang.

Uncertain of their intentions he was wary, they however were all business-like as they stripped him of his clothes and led him into the tub. The water was heavenly hot doing wonderful things for his aching body. He thought that once he was in that they would leave, they didn’t. One man without warning dropped a pitcher of water over his head. They ignored his growling and threats shampooing his hair and adding some bath oils in.

Spike was feeling rather put out on the whole event as it was nothing like his idea of a pleasant soak. It was humiliating for one thing, and the scents were a bit overwhelming for his vampire sensitivity for another. The shampoo was stringing his eyes making him more grouchy.

"No more tears my arse." He muttered petulantly.

The whole procedure was rushed making any enjoyment all too brief. Soon he was having his hair dried off. One of the men attempted to use the towel to dry Spikes’ lower extremities when his hand was snatched away.

"I can dry my own sodding bits!" He growled vamping out to frighten the poor man. The other three didn’t so much as flinch the elder speaking in his native tongue while motioning to the bands. "Take away all my fun why don’t you." He pouted returning to his human face.

Wrapping the towel securely around his waist he walked back into his room while the servants were messing around with the bathroom. Stretching to get the kinks out of his back he craned his neck. Feeling a tingling sensation running over his skin he followed it to find the Count still was in the doorway with the other man he was speaking with. While the man was yanking about god knows what Dracula stared at him with an unreadable expression.

He was there literally naked (alright he had a bleeding towel) in front of one of his old enemies. The other must have seen him as an ant beneath his shoe now that he had stripped him of everything. That thought made Spike furious. Beneath him. Well he was better than Dracula, Cecily, the Scoobies and Angel ever gave him credit for. He’d show that pounce that William the Bloody wasn’t about to bow down to him. Glaring coldly Spike watched as the men existed with Dracula locking the door behind them.

-- --

"Hmm..." Anselina bit her lip unsure what to say. Should she say something or let it go? Aleera and the others would not state the oddness. They might have let it pass in light of his recent attentions meaning that it fell once again to her. Sighing inwardly she risked looking at her sullen lover. He had not said a word yet and she was beginning to worry. It was certainly different than their usual encounters.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" She ventured. He didn't answer, at least not with words, he simply reclined further against the headboard. "You have been most unsettled these past nights."

"I do not like speaking in riddles, speak plainly Anselina. Are you or the other unsatisfied in some manner?"

This was fast turning into a dangerous conversation that he could easily take as a means to threaten his manhood. Why did men twist words like this? "Of course not though I fear you might be. You have been with us all in an almost frantic nature. Despite this you seem unsated."

The Count frowned pondering this for a moment. "I can not say, perhaps it is merely the affects of stress."

"Perhaps," she agreed,"you have said that Spike can be quite trying--"

Her searching hand was instantly slapped away as her lover turned narrowed eyes at her. "Never mention that name in our bed, are we clear?"

Anselina raised an eyebrow at the overreaction and nodded. "Of course. I will not mention him again."