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 SIXTEEN

There was a soldier in the cell.

And he had a taser, just like Riley ordered.

Unfortunately for them, Angel had Wesley.

The bolt of electricity that was shot at him bounced off like his shirt was made of rubber, slammed right back into the soldier and knocked him off his feet and into an unconscious heap on the floor.

"Well, shit," was all Riley managed to say before he was backhanded across the room, himself.

Angel was left face to face with a woman in a white lab coat and a constipated expression.

"How did you do that?!" Maggie Walsh demanded, staring at him in consternation.

"Get out of my way," was Angel’s only reply. He didn’t even bother looking at her, not any longer than it took to realize she had no weapon. His full attention was focused on the small form huddled on the floor behind her.

His Childe.

His Childe, dressed only in his jeans, blood matting his pretty blond curls to his head - where they hadn’t been shaved off. His Childe, with some sort of complicated metal blindfold fastened over the upper half of his face, tracks of dried blood showing around its edges and in macabre stripes down his cheeks.

With his arms trapped in bulky metal restraints so huge they looked robotic, and his ankles chained to the floor.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded, "I’m in charge here, and I did not give any sort of permission for you to be here!"

Angel jerked his attention away from Spike at that bit of absolute inanity.

"No, I suppose you didn’t," he purred the words, low in throat. "I do appreciate you letting me know that this," he gestured toward Spike, "is your fault, however."

"This Hostile is duly processed and reserved for my personal experimentation - exclusively," Walsh snapped, thinking that the well-dressed, handsome man was some sort of investor - the Initiative didn’t get all their money and orders from the government and she was well aware of it - or some higher-up currently dressed in civilian clothes.

"Professor Walsh..." Riley tried to stop her, but she didn’t even look at him.

"So," she continued, "I don’t know how you redirected that taser blast but it doesn’t matter! You have no right at all to be here!"

"I have a very specific right to be here," Angel gave her a smile that chilled her down to her toenails.

"And what right would that be?" she stuck her chin up in haughty disdain, trying to cover her distinct unease.

"Try Sire’s Rights," he growled, and morphed into his Demonic face.

*

Tucker really just wanted to sit down and talk to him. To learn which of the stories about Vampires were legend, which were true, what his abilities were, if he truly had a bond with another Vampire like Walsh and that soldier apparently thought.

There was something going on there, of course, since the Vampire was so worried about the ‘Sire’, but he wanted to know why, and how, and...

...and he jumped to his feet, startled, when Maggie Walsh screamed. Running to the two-way mirror, he stared out at the two soldiers on the floor, the horrified woman, the still unconscious Vampire - and the other Vampire, in its full demonic face, that was...

...grinning at her?

He reached out with shaking, awed fingers and pushed the button to activate the speakers.

"Y-you’re its Sire?" Walsh was squeaking.

"His Sire," the big - very big - Vampire growled, "move away from him."

Walsh stood her ground, though she trembled. "You just stay where you are!"

"Why should I?" the Vampire took a step closer, purposefully stepping on the taser the unconscious soldier had apparently dropped. He must have seen what Tucker had, the way Maggie Walsh’s eyes had flickered from it to Riley Finn, who was down but not unconscious like the other man, and the piece of equipment that was just lying there - almost within his reach.

"Because, if you don’t," Walsh tossed her head back, regaining some of her composure, "I’ll use this." She held up the little black remote.

Tucker groaned. That idiot.

"And what is that?" the Vampire purred the words dangerously, but he did stop moving toward her.

"It’s a remote," she smirked, "we did a bit of improvement on this Hostile’s behavior modification chip."

"You operated on him again," the vampire’s voice was very, very soft.

Tucker’s eyes opened wide.

Walsh didn’t seem to realize just how deadly that tone was. "We needed a different chip for new experiments," she smirked, "all I have to do now is push this button, and the Hostile," she nudged the still body with her toe, "will be very unhappy."

"My, my..." the Vampire said, his golden eyes beginning to bleed red, "how very clever you scientists are. I do think there’s something you haven’t realized, though."

"And that would be?" she gave him a distinctly superior look.

"That I have no chip, woman."

"So? You don’t want it hurt, do you? It’s so terribly concerned about anything happening to you; there must be at least a bit of reciprocal feelings?"

"You are using my clothes," the Vampire said.

"How..." Walsh looked surprised, then shrugged. Tucker could almost read her mind - she thought she was in complete control of this situation, since she had that remote in her hand. He was pretty certain she was planning to have the new ‘Hostile’ surrender, then she would have both of the bonded Vampires to play with. "Well, it doesn’t matter how you know that. Yes, it’s been quite interesting, though we did have to use a few tricks. Voice modification and all, you understand? Still, it’s been very obedient - does whatever we have ‘Sire’ tell it to do. Even the order to lay down on the operating table and not fight the doctors worked."

"You made him think that I told him to..." the Vampire’s eyes were suddenly completely red. "Woman, you are going to die."

"I’ll push the button!" Walsh shrilled as he took another step toward her, "I’m warning you!"

"Push away," the Vampire shocked all three of his listeners, "you’ll only push it for a second before I tear it out of your dead hand. I can heal him from that damage in another second."

"How?" the scientist in Walsh immediately wanted to know.

"It’s all in the blood," the Vampire actually answered her - which distracted her for the single flicker of an eyelash that it took for him to lunge.

Tucker stared - he’d never seen anything move so fast in his entire life. Walsh was thrown across the cell to crumple against the far wall, and the remote flew out of her hand to shatter against the floor.

The Vampire swore as he looked down on the remains, then he reached for his Childe - then stopped, and grabbed Finn, instead. "Will that hurt him?" he growled.

"Will what hurt him?" Finn gasped.

"If the remote is broken."

"Uh, yes! He’ll be subject to random..."

"I can smell the lie on you," the Vampire growled before he even got started, "are you so eager for a slow death?"

Finn turned white. "It was the only remote," he admitted, "the chip is u-useless unless they make another and a new one m-might not work."

"Getting smarter, aren’t you?" the Vampire purred, then dropped him on the floor. He stepped on the man’s hand as he walked toward his Childe, ignoring the crunch and the howl of pain.

Tucker watched, fascinated, as he bit into his own wrist, then lifted his Childe’s head with incredible gentleness, pressing the bleeding wounds against the smaller Vampire’s mouth.

"Feed, Childe," he ordered in a low, commanding tone that made the hair on the back of Tucker’s neck stand straight up. Such power in those two words...

And the Vampire that shouldn’t have been stirring for another eight hours - not with the amount of tranquilizers Finn and Walsh had shot into him - stirred and obeyed, latching on weakly and suckling at the wound.

Tucker was astonished to see the big Vampire’s demon face melt away, leaving a very attractive man behind - a man’s whose dark eyes were glowing with love as plainly as the demon’s eyes had been bleeding hate.

Amazing...

"Sire?" the younger Vampire whispered, and Tucker found himself swallowing hard at the longing in that voice.

"I’m here, sweetling," the Sire said, and cradled the smaller form in his arms, one hand sliding over the blinder. "How does this thing come off?"

"I don’t know," the other whispered, pushing himself as close as he could get to other with his limbs still tightly bound, "there’s a button or something on top, makes it open."

The Sire found the switch easily, and the blinder slats clicked open, leaving the Childe staring up at him with those huge blue eyes. "Sire!"

"Yes, Childe," a thumb stroked a high cheekbone. "I’m here, now."

"...now?"

"It wasn’t me before, Little One," the Sire said, pulling his Childe even closer, "they tricked you with my scent - I would never - never - have made you do that, precious."

"Oh, good," the Childe sighed, relaxing and cuddling closer, "I thought I had made you angry, Sire."

"Never," the Sire vowed, then his hands were searching out a way to get the bonds off his offspring. "Finn - how do these come off?"

The soldier didn’t answer, just glared sullenly at them.

It occurred to Tucker to wonder if Finn had a particular grudge against the younger ‘Hostile’ - he’d always seemed like he was a sensible man to Tucker, until he’d seen him interacting with the blond Vampire.

"Tell me how they come off," the Vampire repeated, turning to look at Finn - without ever letting go of his Childe - and morphing back into that fascinating other face.

Finn shifted nervously, his shattered hand clutched to his chest, and Tucker noticed for the first time that there were other marks on him. Bruises on his face and throat, suspicious dark, wet spots on his shirt and pants that hinted at blood. It was hard to tell with the dark clothes, but Tucker wouldn’t be a bit surprised. He was only shocked that the Vampire hadn’t already killed the soldier.

And he wondered what the hell he, himself, was going to do about it.

His hand had already reached for the security alert three times, and three times he had let it fall away.

He wasn’t sure why.

"I’m not going to ask you again," the Vampire said, gently - and with obvious reluctance - easing his Childe back down to the floor. His Childe didn’t seem happy about it, either - he let out a pitiful whimper and the Sire gave him a sound - could that really be a purr? and stroked the wildly tumbled blond curls. It seemed to soothe the younger one; he went quiet. The Sire got up and stalked over to the cringing soldier, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and hauling him to his feet. "You’ve got another hand to step on, you know."

"They’re magnetic," Finn said sullenly, his good hand twitching like he wanted to hide it behind his back. "They’ve got a code strip inside - you’ll need Professor Walsh’s key card to open them."

The Vampire dropped Finn - hard, from the yelp - and stalked over to the still form of Maggie Walsh.

She hadn’t budged since she’d been thrown there. Tucker wondered if she was dead. She certainly gave no signs of life as the Vampire searched her pockets, finally pulling out a small white card.

"Is this it?" he asked Finn, but didn’t wait for an answer. He abandoned the rag-doll form of Walsh and went back to his Childe, lifting his bound arms and pressing the card through the barely-visible groove that ran down the inside of the metal restraints.

Which promptly fell open.

"Well, you weren’t lying," the Vampire sounded amused. "That will earn you a favor - do you want to live an hour longer, or die an hour faster?"

Finn gulped.

Tucker tried not to echo him. He really didn’t want that Vampire to know he was in here - he hadn’t hurt his Childe like the others had, but he hadn’t helped either. He’d also designed the blinder, although they’d made what he considered gruesome modifications to it.

Another swipe of the card freed the small Vampire’s legs, then his Sire left him sitting on the floor, rubbing feeling back into his arms, to go and grab Finn by the collar, dragging him back across the room.

"Do you feel like eating, Childe?" he asked, and Riley Finn shrieked.

"That?" The Hostile turned his head slowly, wobbling a bit with the weight of the blinder. "I think he’d give me a stomach ache."

"He might at that," the Sire laughed, and pushed Finn toward his Childe. "Take that thing off his head."

"I - I don’t know how," Finn stammered.

The Vampire cocked his head, his nostrils flaring, and Tucker wondered what he was sniffing.

"Well, still not lying. What about you? Did you develop morals, or do you think I’m going to let you live?"

"Buffy says you don’t kill humans," the soldier said despairingly, and Tucker had a feeling he’d said that before.

"The Slayer doesn’t know what she’s talking about anymore," the Vampire laughed, "who knows how to take that thing off?"

"Professor Walsh..."

"Forget about her," the Vampire growled, "she hit that wall very nicely; she’ll be dead if she doesn’t get medical attention within an hour, and crippled for life if she does. Fitting either way, don’t you think? I’m more inclined to let her live; can you imagine what the rest of her life will be like? Especially if I occasionally drop by to visit."

"So evil, Sire," the blond Vampire smiled, his hands going gently over the blinder, fingers searching for a way to remove it. "This thing is glued to my head or something." He yanked at it, then yelped.

"Leave it be," his Sire said sharply, "we’ll get Wesley to take it off. I don’t want you hurting yourself by trying. What else did they do to you, sweetling, besides operate on your pretty head?" He brushed his fingers over the shorn back of his Childe’s skull, over the almost-faded scar from the surgery.

"Made me fight - was kinda boring. I don’t know what it was, but it died quick. Then they asked a lot of stupid questions."

"About what?"

"Masters."

"Masters?" the Vampire quirked an eyebrow. "What did they ask you?"

"What it meant to be a Master."

"What did you tell them?"

"That it meant I passed the Trials."

Finn groaned. Tucker nearly echoed him for the second time. Neither of them was in the mood for this conversation again.

"And then they asked... what?"

"What the Trials were."

"What did you say?"

"That they were what I had to pass to be a Master."

The dark Vampire threw his head back and laughed. "And then, you little hellion, you kept them going around in that same circle, didn’t you?"

"For hours," the blond snickered. "They got mad."

"I’ll just bet they did - I remember when you did the same thing to that visiting Master’s fledges, when they kept asking and asking you."

"That wasn’t as much fun as this."

"You were just acting..." Finn muttered angrily, "Walsh should have ordered you beaten."

"And you should have been drowned at birth for being too stupid to live," the big Vampire said, reaching down and grabbing him by the neck. "Good job reminding me you’re here - and that you really, really deserve to die."

He morphed into his demon face again.

Then Riley Finn started screaming.