The Gift
AUTHOR:
Little Mouse
(elf_night@hotmail.com)
DISCLAIMER:
Not mine. Joss'. Lucky man.
WARNINGS:
Language (duh, it's a Spike fic!) Violence (see former 'duh')
explicit M/M slashy stuff! Whee!
ARCHIVE:
Please ask first.
PAIRING(S):
Angel/Spike; with
mentions of Angel/Buffy, Spike/Drusilla,
Angelus/Drusilla
SUMMARY:
Drusilla gives her Daddy a present.
CHAPTER TEN
Spike ignored the shouts of both the humans and his Sire; he was
immediately caught up in the joy of battling the strong demon.
He ducked easily away from long, sharp teeth and sharper claws, dodging
and spinning to land hard kicks against the abnormally thin
torso. They didn’t do much damage, but they were a lot of fun,
because they apparently irritated the hell out of the Khalna.
It kept howling and grabbing for him, not learning a bit from its
mistakes - Spike snapped its left arm twice and it still reached for
him with it.
Stupid demons were fun!
“You’re more fun than Cordy,” he crooned at it, and grinned broadly as
he heard the girl yelp, somewhere behind him.
Now - let’s see - did he want to drag this out, or just take care of
the thing now? Fighting was fun, but his Sire was here, and that
meant that once a fight was done, Spike should be getting a lovely hard
screwing. Maybe against a wall or over one of those nice wide
tombstones.
Bloody hell, he was going to have to kill this thing fast - the thought
of his Sire taking him while the joy of battle was still flooding
through their veins made his pants way too tight.
The sudden sight of a glowering Angel, swinging an axe at the demon
with all the muscles in his arms standing out, didn’t help a bit.
Spike had the insane desire to just ignore the demon and rub against
his Sire like a cat in heat - not the best idea when a twelve-foot
Khalna was trying gobble you for its dinner.
So, he’d just have to kill the thing, and then he could go molest his
Sire!
With Spike, thinking was as good as doing; he immediately dodged under
the wild blow the Khalna swung at him, leapt up, grabbed its arm, and
used the hold to swing himself up until he was kneeling on the demon’s
shoulders.
“Spike!” he heard his Sire shout at him, the rich voice thick with
worry.
“Gotta tug its head off, right?” he called back, and then grabbed the
demon’s head and yanked.
*
Angel was going to kill his Childe.
Well, all right, maybe not kill him.
Spank him and then fuck him.
And then lock him in the closet all night.
He’d never been so frightened and worried over a Childe in all his long
unlife!
Or, he had to admit, so turned on over one.
The Khalna had ignored the swings of his axe like they were the buzzing
of a fly; all its attention had been focused on the slender
blond. Even the fact that the weapon was wrapped in aluminum, and
cut deep into its flesh with every blow, was ignored.
Especially when his Little One had decided to become an acrobat, and
used the thing as a support to nearly run up its side.
Despite the creature’s stone throat, Spike had immediately demonstrated
just how well-healed he was by giving the thing’s head three sharp
yanks - and then nearly vanishing in a fountain of purple blood as the
head came flying off and Spike went flying backwards.
Angel dropped the axe, caught between swearing and grinning as the
flood of purple splashed his expensive trousers up to the knee, and
then went to lift his Childe from where he lay on the ground, laughing
his head off - pardon the pun.
“That was fun,” Spike informed him as he was set back on his feet,
“fight more?”
“Maybe later,” Angel said, purring slightly as his Childe decided to
plaster himself to his chest, “we have other things to do first, don’t
we?”
“Mmm,” Spike agreed, wriggling even closer.
“Angel?” Buffy’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion, “Since when does he
fight like that?”
“Didn’t he before?” Angel gave her a curious look.
“He fought like he was - was dancing, before,” Willow said, “and he was
careful and sometimes he took his time and uh, well, enjoyed it.
That was ...so fast!”
“He’s caught between being a Master and a Fledge,” Angel told her,
noticing the way Wesley and Giles’ eyes both lit up with
curiosity. “He’s a vampire, so his instincts scream at him to
fight, but he shouldn’t,” here he gave Spike a gentle bop on the head,
“have gone ahead without my permission.”
“Sorry, Sire,” Spike’s muffled voice sounded anything but
repentant. “Gonna punish me?”
“Of course,” Angel replied, too low for the humans to hear. “Do
you think I’d pass that up?”
Spike snickered and attempted to merge with him.
Buffy rolled her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she was
jealous. “Get a room,” she snarked.
“Good idea,” Angel said immediately, wrapping his arms around his
Childe and snorting with amusement when she gave a shocked gasp.
“I think we’ll head back to the mansion - you should be able to handle
the rest of your patrol without us.”
“Yes,” Giles said absently, moving to kneel next to the Khalna’s head,
prodding at it with a pencil that he took from his pocket. “I’m
sure she can handle anything else. There probably won’t even be
many fledges - this thing will have eaten any it could find. I
really wish I’d thought to bring a camera.”
“I can take pictures with my cell phone,” Wesley said, moving over to
join him in peering at the gruesome trophy. “We could print them
out on the computer, back at the mansion, or take them to your place.”
“Excellent!” Giles nearly crowed. “There are no actual
photographs of this demon! Too bad you didn’t think of it while
it was still alive, though.”
“I did,” Wesley said, turning up his nose rather snobbishly, “I have
some very good pictures of it swinging its fists at empty air.”
“What... oh, because Spike didn’t show up,” Giles nodded.
Angel’s hold on his boy tightened a bit, and he started backing away
from the humans - all of whom were listening to the two Watchers.
Even Buffy.
“Sire... can we run back to the house?” Spike whispered, his arms
winding around Angel’s waist and his pelvis pressing tight against him.
Angel moaned. “That may be a good idea,” he whispered back, one
hand sliding down to gently brush against the hard bulge that pushed
against his leg.
Spike echoed the moan, his own hands wandering slightly. “Then
let’s go fast,” he grinned.
The two turned and took off.
Only Buffy noticed them leave.
*
Riley Finn pressed a number into his cell phone and waited.
“Hello?” A feminine voice asked after only two rings.
“Buffy, it’s me. Where’s the target? There’s no one here.”
“Oh, sorry about that, Riley,” the voice said casually, “I forgot.”
“Forgot?!” Riley was incredulous for a moment, then he realized what
was going on. “Oh, you have company, don’t you? Can’t talk
now?”
“That’s right. I’ll see you really soon, though.”
Riley thought for a second. “They’re on their way back?”
“That’s right.”
“How soon? Stop me when I say the answer. Five minutes, ten
minutes, fifteen...”
“That’s the one, for sure.”
“Okay, fifteen minutes.”
“No, I was wrong. The other one.”
“Ten?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Buffy, still watching the vampires vanish at
the far end of the street, had noticed that they both broke into a
run. “So long as nothing happens.”
“Gotcha.”
“And remember what we talked about.”
“I know, I know. We won’t take Angel. Just the
target. We’ll have to use the taser on him, but the effects won’t
last long and there’ll be no permanent damage.”
“...all right, then.” Buffy’s voice was reluctant.
Riley struggled with his own jealousy for a moment, then forcibly
pushed it aside. “We’ve got the dust of some fledges and a nice
big stake. We’ll have the evidence that Hostile 17 was terminated
all set up for you.”
“Good. Oh, I have to go. Talk to you later!”
“All right,” Riley said slowly, wondering why she had to hang up but
not really concerned. If there had been a demon or something she
needed help with, she would have said so. Probably one of the other
civilians had walked up to her and she didn’t want them to overhear
anything.
“The targets are approaching,” he said, turning to his second in
command. “ETA, ten minutes. Have the men ready. Make
sure they’re all in the right positions. Remember, we tase them
both, but we only take the smaller Hostile. Leave the big one.”
“Yes, sir.” The other soldier looked a little confused at that
order, since they usually grabbed every hostile they could get their
hands on, but it wasn’t his place to question a commanding
officer. He just turned to pass the information on to the others.
*
The mansion was looming ahead of them when Spike abruptly stopped.
Angel, who had been chasing him, nearly slammed into his back.
“Spike?”
“Sire... something’s not... not right,” Spike said slowly, taking a few
cautious steps closer to the building.
Angel immediately grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Then you
stay with me until we find out what it is.”
Spike nodded his agreement, blue eyes searching the shadows for a
moment until he slid into his true face, using the heightened vision of
his vampire eyes to see almost as clearly as if it had been high noon.
At first, he didn’t see anything wrong - then he realized that his eyes
were sliding over some odd bumps in the landscape. A tree that
had a strange bulge, a pile of leaves that shouldn’t be there because
it was summer, not autumn...
“Sire? There’s someone...”
“I see them,” Angel growled softly, shifting until he was in front of
his newborn. “Stay behind me; we’ll try to find out what they
want. They smell human.”
“Yeah,” Spike agreed, then his whole body went cold and still.
“S-sire? They smell like the soldiers!”
“Shit,” Angel said, at the exact second that two bolts of electricity
came flying out of the nearest bushes and slammed into his chest.
He jerked wildly, then fell.
“Sire!” Spike screamed, grabbing for him, then went on full defense as
shadowy forms left the trees and began to surround him.
His nose told him one was Riley Finn, and he snarled, crouching over
his Sire’s fallen form and ready to attack any of them that got too
close.
“Hostile 17 - how nice to see you again,” Finn’s voice sounded so smug
that Spike’s fangs ached to sink in to him.
He wanted to run, and he probably could have escaped - he didn’t move
away from his Sire, though, protecting Angel at any cost to
himself. They had stopped just out of reach of his lunges, so he
stayed crouched over the fallen vampire, snarling a warning at them
even though he knew he was helpless. The only way he could defend
himself was to leave Angel vulnerable.
He’d die first.
One of the soldiers lifted a strange looking gun, the barrel pointing
straight at him.
Spike realized what that was and howled, a grief-stricken, broken howl
that cut off as soon as the electricity tore through his body, jerking
his limbs and making him convulse.
He crumpled down on top of Angel, not unconscious yet but completely
paralyzed.
Hands grabbed him, dragging him away from his Sire. A whimper was
caught in his throat, freezing there and choking him, unable to force
its way out.
Cold metal touched the back of his neck, and another jolt slammed into
him, and then there was only darkness.