Title: Detour Author: kindred Disclaimer: The BtVS characters are the property of Joss Whedon and his associates. Rating: NC-17 Feedback: Yes Summary: Future fic. Vengeance, memory and the course of true love. A/N: This story mentions character deaths that occur outside of the main plot line. 2. Three weeks earlier. A chair and restraints were not unusual props in Spike's experience, but instead of Buffy's quirking grin, Drusilla's face loomed before him. It had been a while, but there she was, leaning forward, her face animated and vibrant, mischief crackling in her eye. Bugger. That never ended well. Trying to gauge the situation, Spike's mind traveled back a couple of hours. He'd been on his way home to Buffy from a night out with the lads. A little controlled mayhem and some minor marauding were just what the vampire ordered. After all, he did have a reputation to uphold. The Big Bad wasn't retired. Just because he preferred the soft expanse of a real bed and the warmth of a real woman to the lid of a sarcophagus and opportunistic encounters among the undead didn't mean he'd gone soft. Besides, being a champion and a hero type now, he'd earned these perks and gained an appreciation for higher standards. Spike didn't see the demons until it was too late. He had his nose bloom deep in a bouquet of red roses and his thoughts were transfixed on another pleasant evening with Buffy. They were a pair of Peddler demons. Small, wiry and incredibly strong, with a peculiar aptitude for camouflage, they blended in easily among the residential privet hedges. This uncanny ability aided in their success with mercenary work, although any suitably profitable business transaction in the offing would have caught their attention. They were a sort of have gun will travel species, only their weapon of choice was a paralyzing spray. It made them effective bounty hunters, assassins and debt collectors. They had been engaged by a client and brought to Sunnydale. The task was to procure a specific quarry: an impossibly blond vampire with an ego and attitude like a megawatt neon sign. With such a flashy, garish and easily identified target, this job wasn't much of a challenge. Spike was obtained after a brief and painful tag team match accompanied by a double dose of paralyzing venom. The beautiful bouquet of roses made an attractive pile on the pavement as Spike was dragged away motionless, but still aware. His romantic evening wasn't starting off very promisingly at all. The pair of Peddlers dropped him off at a drab strip motel on the outskirts of town that had seen better days. A thin, pale woman with a gaunt, angular face, wide vacant eyes and long black hair paid them. Fastened to a chair with leather straps and secure manacles, Spike could only wait. His confined gaze roamed around the room. It swam in his sights briefly before he focused on the beige walls, beige carpeting, beige horizontal blinds, and beige bedspread. It was a bleak landscape. The unimaginative beigeness was broken only by the presence of Drusilla and an enormous demon that was carefully arranging a bow in the hair of a small porcelain doll. Miss Edith looked well. The restraints were hardly necessary as the potent force of the Peddler demon's excretions immobilized Spike completely. It did have Drusilla written all over it though. She had a talent for theatrical overkill. She did, after all, pay much closer attention to Angelus' lectures on conquering with style. Drusilla danced to absent music in front of Spike, turning slowly in the dim gloom of the room. At last she turned her attention to Spike. "There you are you bad dog. You need a muzzle and chain." Huge hands fixed a headpiece on Spike. His head was drawn back against the chair so he could see Drusilla clearly. A few choice words stuck to the tip of Spike's stilled tongue. The scenario didn't strike him as entirely friendly in nature. It was a set piece designed by Drusilla, Queen of Histrionics. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I can smell that slut on you. You reek of her. Well...not for long. Things are going to change for you and for her." Spike tried to blink. No luck. Drusilla continued speaking. "You were once well trained Spike, the perfect sword at my side. But freedom and that disgusting soul have softened you. Are you a chihuahua now? Do you hop over her teddy bears?" Her grimace was as smooth as ice but there were flames in her glassy stare. "As you can see I have moved on as well. Miss Edith and I have a new friend." Drusilla held up her hand. Her companion took it and started kissing the length of her arm up to her neck. Spike didn't recognize the species. It had red skin, was nearly seven foot in height, human like in appearance with a tremendous musculature. Two large lidless eyes and a ring through its widely spaced nostrils gave it a distinctly bovine appearance. The demon's mouth was wide and lipless. A long snake-like tongue emerged from it and flicked Drusilla's cheek. "See what a treasure I've found?" The demon made a soft throaty response and moved behind her. Hands that could snap Drusilla's frail looking body like a twig caressed up and down her torso. "Mmm," she cooed in response. "My treasure lives to please me, Spike. His mind is full of my needs, my wants, and my desires. Isn't that right, my treasure?" "My lady humbles me by her presence," the demon lulled in an airy voice both seductive and grating. The annoying sound buzzed in Spike's ears. Surprisingly nimble fingers for their size soon made quick work of Drusilla's lace gown. The demon folded her garment carefully and set it down. He then ripped off the length of fabric gathered at his waist. Drusilla's eye's bulged in appreciation of those uncovered delights. "I know only pleasure in his kiss, Spike...in his embrace...in his cock. There is no one else in existence for my treasure but me." It sounded like things were working out nicely for Drusilla. A big strapping lad with a one-track mind and plenty of tongue to spare was right up her alley. Spike might have been happy for her if not for his current circumstances. The scene smelled faintly of vengeance served up cold and copiously. "Perhaps you'd be interested in watching a real proficient in action. Come to think of it, you never really knew how to fuck, did you?" Drusilla glanced over her shoulder. "Lift me, my treasure. This poor wretch needs some lessons in penetration." Her companion lifted her from behind and opened her slender thighs to 180 degrees in front on Spike's face. The demon then plunged his enormous erection into her body. Rasps of savage delight sputtered from Drusilla's throat as she began a familiar tune of agitated grunting. Spike sat motionless. Seeing Drusilla being fucked was not new, nor remotely interesting. It wasn't even boring. It was nothing. Spike felt a weary weight settle on his heart. Buffy was waiting for him. Perhaps if Dru could speed up the torture, the evening wouldn't be a total loss. Spike tuned out the uninteresting acrobatics in front of him. He concentrated on Buffy. Her face. Her smile. The touch of her hand. Eventually, Drusilla angled herself forward, balancing on the arms of the chair with her face close to his. A small glass vial hung like a charm from a chain around her neck. The demon's relentless muscular pounding made the pendant dance a rhythm between her breasts mere inches from Spike's face. Drusilla accelerated the evidence of her extreme pleasure by growling words of encouragement over her shoulder to her partner. This spurred the giant red demon on to an increased pelvic rhythm. "I've thought long and hard about you Spike. About how to punish you for your naughty behavior and that is the reason for my visit. I've worked it out splendidly and I've brought you a present. It's a good present. You'll like it." She licked her lips in a lascivious manner. She was enjoying this. "I'm going to give you back to yourself, Spike, introduce you to the delightful beast you once were...and shall be again." Drusilla's eyes danced with demonic glee. "I'm going to erase that fucking bitch slayer and everything Sunnydale from your mind, leaving you with your original purpose in death..." she paused for dramatic effect, "pleasuring me. It will be a jolly giggle." She thrust herself backward against the giant's chest. "Too bad I won't be there to see the end, but I'm planning a vacation. I've decided to reward my treasure with six months of uninterrupted me. He's looking forward to that, aren't you, my treasure?" "My lady," the demon croaked. It's tongue snaked out of its mouth and angled down her torso toward her clitoris. Drusilla sighed with pleasure. "Do you see Spike? How I wasted myself on you when my treasure was so lonely. No more my sweet." She cooed with icy clarity. Her treasure groaned and slowed his attentions, trying to stave off his release. Long spidery fingers captured the dangling vial hanging from her neck. "This is my gift to you, Spike. My gift of clarity and suffering. You will be yourself again and you will suffer. And that bitch you've loved will stake you at last. It's a pity I shan't see it, but I'll be too busy to care. This is all I need to see." She unhooked the small vial from the chain and unscrewed the top. With a rotation of her wrist a dazzling white liquid oozed onto Spike's cheek. "Let me introduce you to my little friend. I didn't catch its name but you two will get to know each other...intimately." There was a whiff of brimstone in her giggle. The liquid stirred to life on Spike's cheek and slithered of its own volition toward his ear. Soon it disappeared down his ear canal. Drusilla started to bleat a desperate vocalization. "Harder, my treasure. I need to come now." "Yes, my lady," the demon replied with reverence. His hips thrust into a blur. Drusilla came strongly, screeching her climax into Spike's unmoving face. His eyes revealed the beginnings of deep cranial pain. Drusilla spoke again, her words becoming liquid in Spike's ears, sloshing into his brain. "Clean me, my treasure. You are so potent, I need to make room for you." The demon flipped her upside down and sucked between her legs as she dangled before Spike. "That little beauty is your gift, Spike. It will eat away your memories and all trace of that flesh bag slayer. Don't really know what else it will consume. Let's hope it's a little soul hungry...hmm?" Her upside down grin could have been comical if it didn't also have the distorted reflection of madness as well. "I do this because I once cared for you. I will share my pain with you and it will be delicious." Spike's brain rang out in spasms of echoing agony. He passed out with open eyes as Drusilla and her demon moved to the bed. Never a negligent hostess, Drusilla eventually brought Spike a meal. She wanted him in agony, but not hungry. A hapless maid from housekeeping had the misfortune to be outside Drusilla's door when she was whisked inside. Drusilla struck, the demon held Spike's mouth open, and a stream of blood poured down his throat. Drusilla's sexual desire rebounded after she drained the girl completely. Three days of cataclysmic pain ended for Spike as the small creature emerged. It was larger and dark gray in color. The paralytic effect of the Peddler poison was still active, but not for long. Drusilla thanked the tiny, engorged creature for a job well done and then crushed it mercilessly under her heel. tbc...