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.

Sorting through the mess was still taking Spike awhile. He had spilt the piles of books into sections and was at the moment putting away the magic ones. The sooner the better he had figured remembering the books that tended to favor flesh and acid burning ones he had encountered. Briefly the idea of using the information the volumes contained to escape had entered his head. Spike had quickly vetoed it in light of his experience with magic. It was bound to get bollocked and he was not well enough versed in the subject in the first place.

A vague plan to do a runner had come to mind during his stable chores but he decided to put that on hold. He couldn’t risk Peter getting hurt in the crossfire. He was watched at almost every moment, he could feel it even if he couldn’t see it. They hadn't left him alone in the library either having Hans and Jon stand by to keep an eye on him. The pair hadn't respond--not verbally--to his taunts. They pushed him, flexed their muscles and grunted their discontentment much to Spikes' amusement.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Why don't you fetch us a nip, bit peckish." With no master to tell them what was proper treatment for their prisoner the duo were easier to manipulate. He couldn’t get them to free him, they had just enough common sense to know better but he could weasel small things from them.

The shorter of the two left after a confused pause leaving him with just one goon. This allowed him more movement and a better chance to nick books he liked. The selection that had been in his bedroom had all been read already. He had his eye on some poetry, and old classics he hadn’t seen since he had a pulse. Spike had come to enjoy these moments when he could be lost in a much loved tale or whenever the egoistical windbag wasn't lurking about which hadn't been for a couple of days. As if on cue the Count intruded on Spikes' peace of mind without so much as a "by your leave."

"Leave us." Dracula ordered the brute not commenting on the absence of the other. He didn't even appear to have noticed as his eyes were solely focused on the blond. There was an unreadable emotion on the formerly cold face that made Spike feel uneasy. Brushing off the fight or flight sensation he let the mask of irritation fall into place.

"Wondered when your all-mighty self would honor us with your presence." He bit out sarcastically. When the other did not answer Spike tensed ready to protect himself if need be. For a minute silence descended upon them choking them with the awkwardness leaving Spike practically gasping for words. He never could stand the emptiness of the muteness, he favored words treasuring the freedom the outlit that they provided.

They had been his companions in his lonely human life written on endless sheets that would never mock him for his heartfelt yearnings. In his soulless days he transformed their power from scriptural to vocal. It gave him power over his enemies and victims. Angelus had his torture become living art and Spike had his own style, his eloquence with his own brand of language.

Being insane in the high school basement after the soul he only had the rats, the First, the memories in his head and rarely the Scoobies when they had use for him. Talking didn’t drive away any of the horrors but it was the only real company he had, the only thing that he knew for sure was real. They were his protection for an uncaring world that didn’t want him in it.

"Oh, ‘m not important enough to speak with, that it?" He snorted, "What a sodding loss."

The effect of his snark seemed to snap the Count from his musing as he looked on Spike as if he had just noticed he was there. The arrogance was strangely absent and his halted movements lacked his usual grace. Not caring what his punishment would be for his rudeness Spike blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Someone’s stiffer than usual mate, and that’s saying something." A harsh reply, a beating, a heavier workload, even taking away one of the few items of luxury he fully expected. Focused with these thoughts he completely missed the alarm that crossed Draculas’ face.

"Unlike you I have matters of great importance to oversee." The darker one hissed out in retaliation. He had not known how to speak with Spike after his unsettling discovery. Insults seemed to flow easier than the idea of seducing.

"Yeah, can see that. Big man like you must have loads to do I’d wager." Spike said smiling sweetly. "Get up from your dirt, wash off in your poofy products, spend an hour or two with the girls doing your nails." He mimed wiggling his fingers. "‘Nother hour to style your girly hair while you plot about another replacement bride that you’ll "seduce" into your grasp." He snorted at this.

Not liking where this was going but curious of the meaning Dracula felt pressed to ask: "What are you implying?"

"Bit obvious ain’t it? Only way you can get birds is to put them under trances otherwise they’d never give you the bleeding time of day."

The answer was not satisfactory to the Count and it bothered him on some level that Spike believed this. "I do NOT force my lovers to do anything they do not desire. I only bring those yearnings to the surface."

That was true to an extent, it varied with the types of trances. "Dru used to put her meals under the imfluence, so to speak, and they weren’t the sort that "desired" to slit their own throats."

The level of venom in Spikes’ voice was unanticipated, he had never heard the other speak so about Drusilla. Or was that suppose to be directed at him? At the kill? Or both? Just what he needed, yet another mystery of this stubborn vampire to uncover.

"I do not resort to such cheap means." Dracula retorted firmly.

"All you do is use these such "cheap means", like you did to the girls back in 1898. Think I forgot ‘bout that one wanker? You made them both think that they were madly in love with you." His voice was dripped in such a disgusted tone that it made the elder feel as if it had been physical blow making him feel ill. "You charmed your way with them and tried to get them to stake each other after you got bored with them. Don Juan you’re not mate. You couldn’t charm a snake you puffed up poor excuse of a Romeo. A sodding disgrace to vampires everywhere s’wot you are."

"This is what you think of me?"

"Wot I said wasn’t it?" Spike replied hotly.

"We shall see." Dracula challenged. Spike seemed confused by that comment, he wouldn’t be for long. The conflict they had just had gave Dracula a new way to confront this issue head on without appearing foolish if the plan failed. He was determined that it would not, it could not. No matter how long it took he would have Spike.

"This is how you wish to do this?" Anselina asked from her spot behind her paramour.

In an alcove hidden from sight was a prized procession of the Count that he rarely visited or showed to others. It was a full length mirror that he was given as a gift from an ally that had been charmed to allow the vampire view to see it’s reflection. Dracula did not use it as regularly as one might have guessed. He did not want to become too connected with it in the likelihood that it would be taken from him. When you lived for eternity you came to recognize everything as short-lived. It helped if you didn’t get attached though it was unlikely that you could remain that distant in all respects. The losses hurt but one had to move on. There was no other way for their kind to live.

"I am not one for idle waiting games nor hiding how I feel." He responded brushing his hair off his shoulders.

She only just stopped herself from groaning. He was nervous which being the man he was he of course he would deny it. Checking his fangs to make sure that they were clean, being unsure what to do with his hair and what to wear. The "date" was not something the other man knew about yet. When he was informed he would be brought to a private dinner where Dracula would reveal his intentions towards him. No one knew quite how Spike would take this news. Verona was making bets with whoever was interested that the two would brawl at dinner. Though she never said so herself Anselina felt that it was a safe bet.

The invite to dinner was unanticipated, Spike just wanted to take a usual quick sip of pigs’ blood and go to sleep. He had tried to shrug the idea of the dinner Madam Drake had informed him of as Dracula grandstanding. Something about it felt very unsettling more so when Anselina came by to tell him that it was a formal event. She brushed his arm telling him how much she’d loved to see him in one of the outfits she picked out for him. When he told her that he wasn’t dressing up for just for the git’s inflated ego least he be insulted by those he deemed unworthier than himself she looked disappointed. Always one to give in to the demands of lovely women he had reluctantly agreed.

The blue shirt was quickly disregarded as a choice since it was usually the color of choice when he wanted to impress someone. It brought out his eyes, made him seem less harsh or so he was told. In the old days he’d wear blue to clubs with Dru, then on dates with other women, a few times he had found himself wearing it for Angel and once the other vampire had said the color looked good on him. Not sure if that counted since they were drunk at the time and he had been covered in blue demons' blood.

Red in general was a color most vampires tended to favor, Dracula wore it practically every night, Drusilla, Darla and Angelus had all loved it. The shirt in question reminded Spike a little too much of the kind Angelus wore back in Sunnyhell. Angel must have associated the color with his alter ego too for he barely ever wore it. Spike placed it back not liking the reminder himself.

Basic black it was then. The clothes felt wonderful to wear and he was pretty sure that if he could see himself he’d be a right dish. His hair sadly would have to stay in the way it was troublesome curls and all. He had ran out of the product he had nicked to keep it slicked back. There was nothing to be done about it at this point and it wasn’t like anyone would care. Anselina seemed to like how he looked and Spike didn’t give a damn what Dracula thought.

The ancient vampire had paced the dinning hall countless times before he heard the arrival of his guest of honor. His brides were nearby chattering in a relaxed atmosphere that had done nothing for his own nerves. They were there only for appearances sake and would leave shortly into the meal. He could tell that they all were thrilled with the idea of him and Spike.

Though they were prone to fits of jealousy they were easy to appease with attention and presents. In the moments that they were discontent they had been most outspoken on their desires for another male lover to join their ranks. Even though they knew well of the bitterness that had come from his past relationships.

He was pouring himself a glass of wine to calm himself when Spike chose that moment to make his entrance. Anselina had told him about the clothes she had made for Spike but she did not do them justice in her description. They were tailored made to suit Spikes’ form highlighting his beauty. He would have preferred to see color but he could not deny the appeal of the dark material compared to his pale complexion. His natural hair color was more noticeable now, and the Count was pleased to see that the curls were present.

Spikes’ demeanor had started out with a disinterested glance before the mask slipped to reveal the shock at the decoration. Reading up on Spikes’ backround Dracula had found out when the other vampire had been turned and had his dinning hall dressed in the proper Victorian pieces. Sadly he had only kept a few things from that era only havinging a few pieces of furniture, painting and party decorations that a now deceased bride had adored.

"Sit down Spike and join us for dinner."