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.

"Will you wait up, Illyria?"

She ignored the boy to study the wall that separated the castle from the country side. The crack in the invisible boarder was close, she could feel it. Energy was stitching its' self back together and should be easy to break... The god-king frowned. Humans were indeed as "tricky" as she had been informed. This would not be as simple as she had foreseen.

"You, Spawn of the bemoaning half-breed, strike here."

"My name is Connor, we've been through this." They had and yet he persisted in trying to futilely change her. She was Illyria lord of all, the child should know better than to dare order her like a the filth of the earth that had once served her. Yet he was not harmed for this outrage. The shells' memories informed her of a shrieking pink bit of flesh that cooed when Burkle tickled it. Those images made her pause to reflect on the strange emotions they invoked.

"Strike here shrill one." Illyria nodded to the spot she had in mind missing the days when her will did not need to be explained. Minions simply thought of her needs and provided. They would die in horrible agony if they didn't. She almost smiled as she recalled the screams.

"Okay, I think I preferred the spawn name better." Stepping closer Connor looked over the location that had been pointed out. "What do you mean by--" His hand came in contact with an unseen force. Energy crackled around his hand lightening the transparent. From what he could see there was a hole in this wall. "Some sort of a force field? Cool. But why are we--?"

"Your kind ask too many unimportant questions. Speaking with useless words with no meaning and less use. This is where my pet is. The barrier needs one with a soul and part demon to break it as Spike has." Connor raised an eyebrow at the slight pride Illyria showed that Spike had broke out before. He wanted to ask more questions but working with her taught him not to get on her bad side. Which usually happened when she had to explain herself. Or if she just felt like it.

"I don't want to talk about it Faith, we already lost Connor and Illyria, I'm not going to waste more time arguing when they could be in trouble." To say nothing about Spike. Angel didn't want to think that something could have happened to him--that he could be dead. He would have known, won't he? Have felt it...though he hadn't before. Did sort of dying count?

"Tough. Much as I like jumping in to dust, this isn't how you do things Angel. You usually have a plan. And Dracula is a major player, legendary--"

"We've been through this. He's an overblown ancient vampire that uses tricks he learned from gypsies. The guy is only "legendary" because of novel written about him that people liked because of the underlined themes of repressed sexual desires being released. Sure he has some power to rule and the money he's invested over the years but the guy is a joke. The Count has done nothing impressive since the turn of the century and helped spread stereotypes because he has some dirt fetish." It was tiring to have humans go on thinking all that crap about vampires sleeping in coffins.

"Hit a sore point?" Faith asked with her trademark smirk. Their short spar seemed to have done the trick to help her unload a lot of the tense that had been weighing on her shoulders.

"Not with him personally, I only meant him once before. Though he did swear vengeance on me." Angel shrugged. That was pretty much a normal occurrence for him thus Angel hadn't worried. "Spike has more to fear since he's had this feud with him for decades." Connors' scent was growing stronger which meant that they were catching up to them. The sooner the better, they had to rescue Spike from whatever horrors Dracula had in store for him.

"Bugger."

This had been a truly stupid idea that Spike was already regretting. Now that they were entering the "after glow" section of their encounter and he wanted nothing more than to flee. This part never went like his soaps and the endless amount of romance novels he had gotten for Joyce did. Sadly the combined efforts of his still recovering body and their...excise...had left him aching too much to move far. His muscles protested when he struggled to move to his feet. A hand shot out encircling his bicep keeping him trapped. Dark eyes caught his making his unneeded breath catch.

"Let me go, pillock!" The insult loss some of it's impact given the way his voice almost broke. He wasn't ready for this but there really was no delaying it.

"Vlad." He corrected gently pulling the weakened vampire back into his arms. "And I will never be foolish enough to let you wander off again."

"Right, forgot 'M your sodding prisoner." Spike groused, furious as the chuckle this statement received.

"I believe it is only suitable as--"

"The next words better not be 'as you have captured me' ! Even I think that rot is cliche." The irked glare gave him the answer to that one.

"Your pillow talk is not much better than your pet names." Vla--Dracula remarked dryly.

They were drifting off topic when Spike wanted to get to the point. "Can't keep me here forever mate. I'll escape again."

"If that is what you wish." His bed mate said with a smug look that told that he truly doubted it.

"Think I can't wanker?!" Oh, maybe he should rethink that last insult. "Fought slayers, hellgods, and the like. Think breaking out of Van Helsing easiest slay won't be much of a problem."

The irritation at the Helsing remark was quickly smoothed away with a knowing look. "I do not doubt your abilities, just where your true wishes lie."

"Meaning wot?" A not too subtle nudge of his hips against the others' revealed the meaning. Shite, he really did get turned on by the wrong sort. "Doesn't mean anything. Get hard when the wind blows." Spike denied.

"Really? That does explains why you are so irritable. Perhaps I should invest in a fan to help you work on this problem."

"Think I give a flying toss wot you think? Bloody ego manic! I'll--" The weak punch was caught long before it would have landed. Lips curved to reveal the ever present dagger sharp fangs. One second he was ready to tear the Count a new one the next they had some how ended up snogging like a couple of randy teenagers. Why did most of his bleeding bed mates force him to shut up like this? He had a point, a good one mind, just couldn't recall it at the moment. Not with the delicious friction he was getting.

"You are a child." Nails ranked down slim hips to cross perfectly defined globes.

"Yeah? Well you're a prat," teeth bit into his earlobe, "with s-s-stupid greasy hair," said hair brushed Spikes' shoulder while it's owner licked down his throat, "and--ahh--girly nails."

"I see. Perhaps I should cease to allow you to protect your honor. ...At least to form coherent speech." Dracula murmured into the spot where neck met shoulder. Adjusting himself and without giving Spike any time to prepare he sank his teeth into the flesh.

"HEY! None of that you gormless git!" He glared at the Count as he with a familiar sigh released his hold.

"What is vexing you this time, Spike? Is this more of your pretense at outrage simply to frustrate me?" It took the souled vampire a moment to collect his scattered thoughts. The other man was stretched out next to him giving him an excellent view. The scent of their activities was clinging heavily in the room forcing his mind to drift to the night before. The patient dark eyes that seemed to know and somehow broadcast his ego brought Spike back to his complaint.

"You bit me!" A finger jabbed at the lord while his other hand pressed on the wound. Dracula blinked dumbfounded at the statement before his mouth fell open.

"You are a vampire." He drew the words out slowly as if the concept was something that had yet to be comprehended.

Spike huffed. "KNOW that, tosser! Doesn't mean that I like getting poked in the neck!"

His siring hadn't been that bad once the loss of blood had made him giddy. That and being felt up while he was dying. He never had gotten into the biting into each other part afterwards. The others loved it, Dru liked doing it whenever the fairies told her to have tea. Darla and Angelus weren't as random. Darla would rarely so either when she demanded his attention or when it was proper-like to do in places like the Masters' court. Angelus liked doing it to mark him as his property, usually during sex because he bloody well knew that Spike hated it--especially then.

"You...do not like being bitten?" The disbelief could not mask his badly contained disappointed. Drinking from Spike had been one of the intimate encounters he had been looking forward to once they had consummated their passion. For him to detest it felt like he was sneering at Draculas' other performance.

"'Course not! It hurts like a bitch--not the kind a bloke wants either! 'Bout as much fun as getting kicked in family jewels!"

This was not how Dracula had hoped their "morning after" would go. Being rejected from entering his lovers' body twice! He could cope with the former, understanding how daunting it was for some men to let go of their human concepts. The loss of the latter, of piecing his fangs into Spikes' flesh for a taste grieved him more. He couldn't offer his own blood with the sting of this denial.

Spike was still rubbing his neck viciously only succeeding in smearing his blood into a gory mess. Heedless of this he went on muttering to himself. "--have to have this stupid kink--"

A thought occurred to Dracula then, he had never heard of this particular dislike among vampires. While Spike was unique in many respects it seemed strange that he should loath this aspect. Spike had been very responsive to touches, it was possible that he was overly sensitive to stimulants. It could prove to be a very enlightening experiment. "Perhaps none of your other lovers knew how to do it properly."

Spike snorted ruefully, pointedly ignoring Dracula listing himself as a lover. "Doesn't take much talent to sink your teeth in, mate. 'Sides you didn't manage to 'do it properly' yourself, eh?" To prove this he waved his red hand at the darker man not expecting to find himself imprisoned in his arms again. "Let go you--" a swipe of a skillful tongue silenced him. Vlad was not finished with him yet.

"Adela!" The old woman was lying on the floor slumped over with a thin trail of blood running down her face. Five guards were tossed about the room giving off the impression that they had not had time to call alarm to their attackers. Barking out in her native tongue Anselina called for the others. The sharp edge of a battle axe suddenly came to rest at her throat drawing tiny beads of blood to spill from the shallow cut.

"Take us to your master half-breed. We will have words with him." A woman with streaks of blue hair proclaimed drawing the blade back slightly. "Hopefully he will last longer than the others."