The Crypt: Standing the Test of Time by Erin-Starlight

Standing the Test of Time

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.

Much to Spikes’ dissatisfaction the lord of the castle did not put an end to his unwelcome advances. He was awaken from his slumber by the sweet scent of freshly cut flowers. A servant with a dangerously low cut top was arranging them into a visually pleasing display in a highly ornate vase. He thought that the vase was perfectly suited to Dracula. It was smooth with elegant golden lines that swirled into patterns that appeared more arrogant with it's overly decoration than impressive. Still something about it drew your attention to it and demanded a closer inspection. He knew that he would have to break it once the girl left.

The servant girl chose that moment to gasp out loud when she saw that he was awake. Her eyes traveled down widening when she caught the way the sheet was barely covering the bare hip. Spike smirked as if to say, "yeah I sleep in the nude luv." Clearing his throat he pointed meaningfully to the Poppies.

"Right, wot’s all this for then?"

"The master wishes to convey his affections, sir." She squeaked.

Something was familiar about this that nagged at his memory and as he stood to inspect the flowers closely he vaguely noted the girl’s startled scream or her fleeing the room. They were Poppies but not the kind that you usually got for your main squeeze. Instead of red, pink or white the blooms were blue. Though the bed clothes and the drapes had been changed the colors remained the same so that ruled out matching the room. For a wild moment he pondered that maybe they were suppose to match his eyes but dismissed that notion. There had to be something more cunning to this, a meaning that he was missing.

There was no card, not that he needed one when he was the prisoner of the owner of the place. Five minutes of checking it for god knew what with advanced means of poking he was disappointed to find there was only one bug. And it was a small blueish beetle that seemed to find him amusing. If the little head tilt was anything to judge by. It reminded him of Illyria enough to make him smile in fondness and at his own antics. He really was starting to lose it.

Any happiness to be found was short-lived when Madam Drake strolled into the room. Not liking the thought her seeing his bits and pieces he ducked behind the chair for cover. This woman reminded him too much of his mother's friends' for comfort, being in the buff around her felt wrong. She gave him a disapproving look at his state and flipped through a day planner with a scowl.

"I do not know how you were raised but it is considered proper to be dressed when you greet guest." She scolded.

"That’s assuming bit much considering neither of us are guests and that you weren’t welcomed." Spike snapped back.

"I am in charge of taking care of this household for the master therefore I am welcomed everywhere." She responded smoothly making a note in her planner. "You should have risen over an hour ago."

"Still getting used to the time difference, aren't I? Not like you're one to talk letting the kiddies out at night." When she glared up at him Spike matched the deadly gaze. "Peter's a kid, should be out in the sun where he belongs not here with my lot."

"My son is none of your concern." Madam Drake frowned in thought and added much softer: "He can't sleep during the night anyway."

The next instant she was all business-like again not giving Spike time to process Peter's strange upbringing further.

"Now I have your day planned. You will dine with Mistress Marishka and the others for breakfast and lunch. The master will regretfully be too busy to join you. Your chores will be the same with the exception of your work in the stables--"

"Why aren't I staying with the horsies? Wot's he trying to pull?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Do you really want to complain about lessening your workload? No? Then stop grumbling about it like a ninny." She chided. Now she REALLY reminded him of his mother's friends. "The master will dine with you for dinner. I'd wear something striking and less...vile if I were you."

"I'm not wearing anything!"

"Well I dare say that should make quite the impression on him then." The woman said utterly unaffected by his words. "It seems to keep with your current style."

Being reminded of his nudity did nothing to calm his quickly souring mood. "I am not going to dinner for that pompous git that's trying--badly might I add--to get a leg over me! I'm not playing his game of hide the stake!"

"Wear a shirt with more color this time, I think the master would prefer you in it." Madam Drake went on like she hadn't heard his rant. At the door she paused. "Unless of course you're serious about your nudity which I believe he would not mind."

As soon as the door shut Spike hurled the vase at it. It made a satisfying crash spilling the water and poppies over the floor. He wasn't a bird to be bought off with flowers, and he was not going to be at the pounces' beck and call.

"Is this a pressing matter, Nicole? I am currently engaged and do not wished to be disturbed."

"I believe it is master," Madam Drake retorted nervously, "it concerns Spike."

Steeling himself for what was sure to be an oncoming headache Dracula motioned for her to sit down and continue. She did sitting on the edge of the plush seat stiff as a board. "He is not taking your pursuing this courtship well."

"That is expected." He would be a fool to believe that Spike would instantly come to his way of thinking. The measures he was taking would need time and effort to grow into fruition. For now he had to be patient while he planted the seeds of temptation for his reluctant would-be lover.

"I hope that means that you are prepared for this because the damage is starting to add up, my lord. Hans and Jon are both are injured despite the bands harming Spike. Three of your portraits have been ripped to shreds, he has refused to dine with the mistresses, broke the antique vase that contained your gift, drew obscene words on the portraits done in your image, put the statue in the south count yard garden into a vile position behind the mare statue and returned to his station at the stables against your wishes."

Dracula took a moment to digest this news before asking if the damage could be repaired. Madam Drake informed him that the portraits were a lost cause. Irritation and fury told him to make Spike pay for provoking him and the lost of prized possessions. Another emotion slowly overpowered the other two as Dracula thought of the lengths Spike went to spurn his advances.

Yes it had been childish but to continue to defy him was making this chase more thrilling. He had no doubt that he was the predator in this hunt and Spike was his prey attempting to outmaneuver him. It would make the taking that much sweeter when he finally had his obsession at long last.

The struggle for power, the passion he had seen within the younger vampire told Dracula all he needed to about where their fight could not doubt lead. Being able to feel the full impact of that fervency re-channeled and directed at himself would be very gratifying.

Wiping the sweat from his brow Spike took a much needed break from his chore to take in what he had done. All of the horses had been taken care of up to the nameless pain in the ass stallion that never failed to piss him off. Bit like the tosser when he thought about it though he had recently been calling everything unfavorable into comparison with the Count.

And why shouldn't he? It was bad enough being a prisoner that was treated as a slave for his enemies amusement, he had tons of experience there, but wanting to shag him? That was not only insane it was unbelievable. He was glad that Peter had been kept away from him then as his temper was on a short fuse and didn't want the child to see him like this.

Spike wanted to hit something, needed to have an out lit with the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. More than anything he wanted to hurt that smug bastard that thought of him as a toy to amuse himself with. He was beyond tired of being convenient, or second best. Couldn't stand it with people he loved, why would he with those he loathed?

Speak of the devil, he mused.

Even in the silence of the night Spike could feel the other vampire's presence like an itch running up his spine. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the sensation it was not going away. Not unless he did something about it. With a sigh of long suffering that would have done both Angel and Dracula proud Spike called out to his admirer.

"Are you going to stalk me for the rest of the night or are you going to say something, tosser?" He had wanted the insult to sound more harsh but in light of his mood it came out more exhausted.

"Around you Spike one must have the patience to get a word in." The Count answered with a hint of amusement in his tone. He reformed from the air before the champions’ eyes. The effect would have impressed most, Spike had always prided himself on being anomalistic from the bandwagon. This time was no different.

"That a fact? Would have thought it was you who gave the big talks. Like to hear yourself speak and talk down to your "inferiors" right?"

"You speak so much yet you have nothing of value to say." Tugging at the fastening around his neck to smooth out the wrinkles of his cloak Dracula approached his latest fixation. Glowering briefly at the coarse garments he pondered the changes it brought to the man. The dinner attire had been sensual bringing out a unseen element from Spike. There was however an appeal to the lowly rags that had not occurred to him until now. It spoke of status and power with Spike his worker doing what ever his master bid. Very pleasing indeed.

"Why do you insist on continuing this chore when I have already dismissed you of it?" Dracula asked getting to the heart of the matter.

"I do things by my leave not yours oh-master-of-the-coco-puffs." Spike thought he might have imagined the small shudder that passed through the other vampire’s body.

"This is how you express your defiance." It made an odd kind of sense when he thought through it. Spike sought to gain a meager bit of control in his imprisonment. Dracula had not wanted his desired to stink of the barns or tire himself out. It was one of the many changes he had made to suit his own needs. As vexing as this struggle was becoming he could not deny how seductive it was becoming to him as of late.

"One of them. How did you like my artist rendering of you?" Spike smirked at the tick at his elders’ jaw. Nice to see that his work hadn’t been in vain.

"It was childish and unimpressive." A slow smile that held many promises graced the darker vampires’ face. "You need not go to such length to get my attention, Spike."

The smaller man sputtered indignantly, "Get your...now see here git I rather stake myself than--"

The Count raised an eyebrow making the previously harmless statement take on new meaning. Oh yes, he was getting warmed up to the idea of this battle of wills between him and Spike. Just watching the changes between anger and the shock of that beautifully expressive face was a treat in it’s self. He watched through hooded eyes as Spike unknowingly nervously licked those plump lips.

"Right. Now go on and be a good dictator of the people while I do the work that you can’t be bothered to get your girly fingers dirty with."

Taking no note of the meaningless dismissive wave Dracula drew closer until he was almost pressed into Spike’s back. The move successfully blocked the man between the door to the stallion without having to actually touch him. There was no way that Spike could truly ignore his presence as the closeness made it impossible for one of their kind not to sense the other. He had to feel the nearness and smell his scent. Detect the power surging through the ancient vampire that in the past had been enough to cause others of their irk swoon with it’s intensity. Mixed with the undeniable arousal it was more overwhelming to the senses than the smells drifting from the stables.

"If you’re certain that you wish to work here then please be my guest. I am sure that you will not let my presence distract you, correct?" Spike’s shoulders tensed as if to begin another verbal battle. Wanting to delay it Dracula bent slightly to whisper into his ear. "Ah, this is a most troublesome beast. Have you been having success in taming it?"

He knew the answer very well as he had witness the abuse it gave the souled vampire countless times. Dracula suspected that Spike knew this as well but pride would not allow him to admit it. "I can take care of myself." Came the hissed reply and he saw it for what it was meant, that the younger vampire did not need or want him. Very well, two could play at this game.

"He is such a wild breed, stubborn to a fault yet he desires to be cared for I think. Ones such as this just need time to adapt, you do not want to break such a beauty. No, that defeats the purpose. You want to preserve it and have it retain it’s wildness. To keep it’s uniqueness. It has many...benefits, for both parties."

Gently he turned Spike to face him before adding in a husky voice, "It is to be treasured...the stallion." Sapphire eyes widen letting the Count know that his point was made. Both of them had the instant mental image of Spike on his hands and knees while his master rode him. Dracula smiled, oh what fun was to be had.Much to Spikes’ dissatisfaction the lord of the castle did not put an end to his unwelcome advances. He was awaken from his slumber by the sweet scent of freshly cut flowers. A servant with a dangerously low cut top was arranging them into a visually pleasing display in a highly ornate vase. He thought that the vase was perfectly suited to Dracula. It was smooth with elegant golden lines that swirled into patterns that appeared more arrogant with it's overly decoration than impressive. Still something about it drew your attention to it and demanded a closer inspection. He knew that he would have to break it once the girl left.