A Family Again

by VampireVixon

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the plot or dialogue of "Crush" (or any other phrases that seem familiar). I also don't own the characters. But can you imagine if I did? Two gorgeous vampires lying in wait in my bed...Hell! Let's pretend I'm bi for a teensy sec...Four gorgeous vampires lying in wait in my bed...yum...Okay, sorry, I'm back. Joss, ME, and all the other brilliant gods we worship own it all...I just fantasize and type.

PAIRINGS: FFFF (Fanged Four Family Fun)--S/Dru, A(us)/D, S/D, S/A(us), A(us)/Dru, D/Dru and any combination of the above (that means orgies, people, so if you're not comfortable with that--well, ask yourself why not because, in all honesty, you may need a doctor).

RATING: NC17

WARNINGS: sex, BDSM, bloodplay, het, slash, femslash, some violence and course language, and character death (none of the Fanged Four die...again...don't worry)

SUMMARY: What if Harmony's fingers had slipped on her crossbow in "Crush" and her arrow hit Buffy instead of Spike? This story starts off as Spike/Dru, but will soon develop into a Fanged Four reunion piece (a completely plausible one, or so I hope).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am open to a wide variety of pairings--it all depends on what mood I'm in. One of my all time favorites, if not my absolute favorite, is FFFF. I also firmly believe that Drusilla is the best match Spike has ever had, and will be until the glorious day when the walls between realities shift and Spike meets me. But in the mean time, I just want him to be happy. Whenever I watch "Crush"--one of my all-time favorite episodes--I always want Spike to end up with Dru. He would be so much happier! I finally decided I couldn't take it any more--I had to change the ending. The bit between the lines of *** at the beginning of this story is just the transcript of the scene from "Crush" that I'm so politely interrupting (thanks, buffyworld.com!). Feel free to skip that if you already know all the dialogue (don't be ashamed--I do, too). I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it! Thanks to all my dear Betas: G.I.A.T.W.T. (Glee, In All The Wrong Things),Cold-blooded Jelly Donut, and Tragedy Beckons for your encouragement!

DISTRIBUTION: Want. Take. Have. Just please be sure to let me know so I can have a happy!

FEEDBACK: Please is not a strong enough word! This is my first fic ever, so I need the support to keep me going. I have been an avid BtVS and AtS fanfic reader for a few years now and have always wanted to write something. Now I finally am, and I want to make sure everything is completely canonical, in character, and 100% believable (redundant, I know, but I wanted to clarify). All it takes is a quick email to vampirevixonbtvs@yahoo.com and I'll love you forever!

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A/N: Sorry this update has taken over a week--I was away from home two days this week and then celebrated Fathers' Day with my parents. I'll try to make the next chapter come sooner. Thank you so much to those who reviewed (all two of you) and to whoever gave my story 5 stars; it means a great deal. Here is the answer to last week's challenge: I named Dru's doll Miss Anne because in "What's My Line? (Part Two)" Dru says to Angel, "My mummy ate lemons. Raw. She said she loved the way they made her mouth...tingle. Little Anne." From this, we can infer that Drusilla's mother's name was Anne (although some speculate that Dru is referring to her own human name here). Either way, Anne was probably a brunette, given that Dru and both her sisters have brown hair in "Dear Boy." I thought it would be like Drusilla to name a doll after her human mother (or her human self) as a way to cling to the past.
Also, I have lived my entire life in Los Angeles, so I will make every setting (with the exception of Wolfram and Hart and some of its affiliate locations) as realistic as possible from now on. I assumed that the drive from Sunnydale to L.A. is about two hours based on Buffy's line, "[Sunnydale's] two hours on the freeway from Neiman Marcus" in "Welcome to the Hellmouth." Here's Chapter Three--enjoy!

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Chapter Three

It looked like they would definitely make it in before sunrise; there was very little freeway traffic this time of night. Spike glanced over to his right to make sure Drusilla was still sleeping. She had passed out soon after he had started driving. "Probably from the exertion," he thought to himself with a satisfied smile. Sure enough, she was all curled up in the passenger's seat fast asleep.

As he drove, Spike's mind kept wandering back to the alley. He saw her head thrashing in intense pleasure and could almost feel her hands on his back, in his hair, grabbing his ass... "Right, that's enough thinking about the alley," he decided as he felt a twitch in his pants. There had been other alleys..."No! Wrong train of thought," he scolded himself as his pants got increasingly more constrictive.

In all honesty, he would have preferred that their first time back together involve candlelight, nudity, and slow lovemaking as they reacquainted themselves with each other's bodies. "Bloody hell! Could you be a bigger poofter?" Spike yelled silently at himself. He smiled as he remembered another possibility...God, how he missed chains! "Stop. Your zipper'll burst. Concentrate on the driving."

Luckily for Spike's zipper, they reached the exit and Spike turned off the freeway. After driving a bit further, he pulled over and roused Dru. She had slept off her buzz and was back to herself. "Dru, luv, you've gotta tell me where you're staying."

"Lovely hotel," she answered sleepily. "The food's delicious...and wears pretty uniforms."

"Do you know the address, pet?"

"This will know," she said as she pulled the cell phone Wolfram and Hart had given her out of a pocket hidden in the folds of her dress and handed it to Spike. She then leaned toward him and whispered in warning, "It rings."

"I'll be careful," he promised before pushing a button and seeing that there were only two names in the phonebook. "Lilah or Lindsey, poodle?"

"Lilah has *the softest* skin."

"Lilah it is then."

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Soon enough (with the help of Lilah's directions), Spike and Dru were being personally escorted to their room by the hotel manager herself; a bellhop had already taken up their luggage. "This is where Ms. Drusilla has been staying, sir. I hope everything is to your liking, as well. There's a fully stocked bar, a king size bed, and a bath tub separate from the shower."

"Ooo, shower."

"I know. I want one, too, luv." To say Spike had enjoyed their alley adventure would be a vast understatement, but he now needed a good scrubbing.

"Before I go, let me briefly tell you about our room service menu."

"Mmm...little gold buttons on red jackets," Dru said as she touched imaginary buttons sown the front of Spike's T-shirt. He recognized her description as that of the uniforms worn by the hotel staff.

"I assure you, this is no oblivious establishment," continued the manager. "We have 'round the clock dining and our menu includes everything from human infant to aged otter. If you get a craving for anything you don't see on the menu, you can ring up room service and they'll have it especially prepared."

"You have hot wings?"

The manager looked momentarily baffled, but quickly regained her composure. "I'm sure we could whip some up in no time. Would you like me to place that order for you now?"

"No thanks. Maybe later."

"Wolfram and Hart has covered every expense, so please don't hesitate to call if you need anything. "Oh, and while every member of our serving staff is hired to be...expendable, it would be appreciated if you could try to order off the menu." With a smile, she handed Spike his key. "I almost forgot! Your companion is staying next door, and you'll find a connecting door inside your suite."

"Companion?" Spike questioned.

"A Ms. Darla, sir."

"Oh, right." He turned to Dru. "I don't think we'll disturb her highness until tomorrow night."

"Well, I'll let you two get settled. Enjoy your stay." With that, the manager disappeared down the hall (no doubt to meet other high-profile guests).

Upon entering the lavish room, it was clear to Spike that Drusilla had already gotten settled; her dolls were all set up on a long table and pieces of lace were draped over the lamp shades. The familiarity made him smile.

"Drip, drip, drip," Dru whispered as she wrapped her arms around him form behind. She stood on her toes and used the point of her tongue to trace the outer arc of his ear from hairline to lobe. A shiver of desire ran down his spine. "Shower's calling." She pushed his coat to the floor for the second time that night and caught the hem of his T-shirt in her fingers. As she began to pull it up, Spike raised his arms obediently, and the shirt joined the duster on the plush carpet.

He turned to face her and for a moment she simply stared at his bare chest. The voices in her head told her to lick every inch of exposed flesh and she was painfully tempted, but she knew that if she didn't undress, they would never get to the shower. "Good girls aren't dirty," she silently reminded herself as she slipped out of her shoes and turned around so Spike could unfasten the back of her dress. Dru turned back to face him, worked the fabric over her slim hips, and let it puddle around her feet.

She stepped out of the pool of fabric and stood before Spike wearing only a black silk bra and panties, both accented with light pink lace. Spike's eyes were drawn to the delicate pink bow that rested in between her breasts. The black silk against her pale skin was striking. He wished for a moment that he could freeze the image in front of him and gaze at it forever--until he realized he wanted to be in that image, too.

Spike closed the space between them and began running his hands up and down her sides as he captured her lips in a soft, smoldering kiss. When their lips parted, she put her hand to his chest and playfully pushed him back until he was seated on the edge of the bed. She bent down and began unlacing one boot. Spike took the hint and reached for the other.

Soon, Spike stood before Dru in just a pair of worn black jeans. She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him toward her, then proceeded to unbuckle it and pull it free. The feel of the leather in her hand gave Drusilla a rush of sexual power, and she cracked the belt once in the air like a whip, making Spike's cock twitch. But then, she placed the belt down gently on the dresser and whispered enticingly against Spike's ear, "It's turn will come." She pushed the jeans down his well-muscled legs and he kicked them away. Her arms snaked around his neck and they shared another long kiss. When Spike's lips began moving down her neck, she whimpered slightly. His hands slid slowly from her waist up her back, and his experienced fingers unhooked her bra. His lips worked their way down onto her chest, so that the instant the bra fell to the floor, his mouth covered a nipple. As he swirled his tongue around it and then began to gently suck, the feel of it hardening beneath his lips and the sound of Drusilla's moan made him even harder. He started to tease the erect nipple with the pad of his thumb, while his mouth moved to the other one. He swirled and licked and sucked until Dru's unnecessary breath came in shallow pants and she brought her hands up to clutch in his hair.

Suddenly, he stopped. She moaned in protest as his lips and hand left her breasts, but soon felt his cool fingers tracing the outline of her thin panties. The ache between her legs was rising to unbearable heights. He ran a finger ever so lightly over the fabric of the crouch and the scent of her arousal flooded the room. Finally, he pulled the garment down--stroking her legs as he went--and guided her feet to step free of it. From his position kneeling on the floor, he let his eyes drink in the sight of her. Chestnut locks, pale skin, slender limbs, small perky breasts, erect pink nipples, soft stomach, dark curls--she was magnificent.

"My black rosebud."

"Please, my Spike," she begged as the tension between her legs begged for release. He leaned forward and blew cool air lightly against her center. She whimpered at his teasing; she needed contact. "You're the one who wanted a shower, pet." He stood and walked into the bathroom, knowing full well she would follow him. He wanted nothing more than to slam into her and relieve his aching cock, but he knew the more he teased her, the more desperate she would be for him. He was determined to wait.

He could feel Drusilla behind him as he adjusted the temperature of the water from outside the shower, and turned around just in time to see her moving a finger down toward the apex of her thighs, so great was her need for relief. Spike caught the digit just before it reached its destination and brought it to his lips where he sucked on the tip for a moment before letting it drop. "No, luv. No one gets to touch you but me." She nodded apologetically, but he could see the anticipation shining in her eyes.

Spike guided her under the spray of warm water and heard her gasp when it hit her hardened nipples. He had to withhold his own gasp as he stepped in behind her and felt the water hit his erection. He took the bottle of shampoo, squirted some into his hand, and started working it through her hair. The sensation of his fingertips messaging her scalp made her shiver in delight. As he began to rinse out the shampoo, disappointment hit her--until she heard him open the conditioner. The ache inside her rose impossibly higher when the feel of his fingers mingled with that of the hot water running down her body and his erection gently poking into her backside. The scent of the shampoo and conditioner also increased her arousal, and as he tilted her head back to rinse her hair, she reached behind him and gripped his cock in her hand. He gasped in surprise and let his hands fall from her clean hair. Her need was so intense that she tried to position him at her entrance, only to be stopped when he said, "I'd love to, kitten, but I'm trying to make you wait until you can't see straight."

His words made her whimper in lust, but she closed her legs (partially in a vain attempt at friction) and continued to stroke his length in her hand. As he felt her hand move slowly up and down, up and down, he couldn't help but let out a groan. As she scratched lightly at his balls, he could smell the lingering scent of shampoo and feel the heat of the water continually hitting his skin. He was fighting a losing battle to maintain his control. She ran a nail down the sensitive underside and then continually passed her thumb over the tip until he wanted to scream. When he began to buck his hips, she encircle him in her hand again and pumped harder and harder until he moaned in powerful release.

Spike forced himself to regain his composure, and before Dru knew it, he was running a sudsy loofa along her skin. He began at her neck, and then rubbed it down her left arm and up the underside. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he moved it around and across her breasts, the netting rough against her sensitive nipples. Next, he cleaned her stomach and then crossed her breast again as he moved to her right arm. After that, he dragged the soapy loofa down the planes of her back and then to her ass. He lingered teasingly at her hips, but skipped her center entirely and cleaned her long shapely legs and her feet. He dropped the loofa to the side and held Dru under the water to rinse off every last bit of soap. Drusilla was trying to be good, telling herself to be patient, but having Spike wash her so erotically had made her even wetter. She was fighting every impulse to drop to her knees and beg him for release.

Fortunately for Dru, he dropped to his knees before she did. He traced her center with the tip of his tongue and then finally licked along her fold, pleased to find her so wet. He lapped at her opening without actually entering for a moment before thrusting his tongue into her. She had waited so long, and the pleasure was so intense, that Drusilla had to place one hand against the wall and one against the glass door to brace herself. Spike reached his hand up and pinched first one nipple and then the other *hard* before replacing his tongue with one of his fingers. After a few thrusts, he added another finger and felt his cock stiffen even more at how tight she was. He traced a circle with the tip of his tongue around her clit--deliberately avoiding it. With his fingers continually thrusting and Dru continually moaning, he finally took the swollen nub in his mouth and began to suck lightly. Gradually, he increased the pace of his thrusting fingers--repeatedly hitting her g-spot--and sucked harder and harder on her clit, occasionally adding just a hint of teeth. Dru was ready to explode. She pleaded with him not to stop. With a final thrust of his fingers and one more hard suck of her clit, Spike pushed her over the edge at long last.

Before she could fully recover, he stood and thrust into her in one swift motion. He knew it wouldn't take much to make her come again when she was still so sensitized from her last orgasm. He moved within her and felt her muscles clamp around him. Her head began to thrash back and forth, and he knew how close she was. The sight of her lost in the sexual haze *he* had created for her brought him to the edge as well and he let his hand slide between their water-slick bodies and twist her clit until she moaned his name in release. The feel of her spasming around him erratically caused Spike to reach his own climax, and he held her to him under the cooling spray of the shower.

A little after sunrise, all clean (they had taken a real shower after recovering) and thoroughly exhausted, Spike and Dru climbed into bed. "Tomorrow, we'll go visit my baby," Drusilla said sleepily. It took Spike a few moments to figure out who she meant, and by then he was too tired and too content to care.

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At sunset the next evening, Spike and Dru woke up and got dressed and ready to go visit Darla. Soon enough--too soon for Spike's liking--they were at Darla's door (Dru thought it would be impolite to use the connecting entrance between their suites). It wasn't that Spike disliked Darla; he actually cared for her quite a bit in a familial sense, but when they had parted everything had been angry, devastating, and confusing.

After Spike had eaten that Gypsy family and killed (quite literally) what in Darla's eyes was their only chance at getting rid of Angelus' soul, Darla had severely punished him. She then searched high and low for a cure, and when it became apparent that there wasn't one, she grew increasingly despondent. She isolated herself from Spike and Dru and talked to them only when she needed to snap out her frustration at someone. When Angelus had returned to them in China, all her hopes had skyrocketed (along with Spike and Dru's), only to plummet to even lower depths when she realized that her boy was really gone.

Darla had said she needed time alone and that Spike, having killed a slayer, was clearly (and she added "surprisingly") strong enough to take Dru and be a master vampire in his own right. Spike and Dru had seen no other choice, so they had left her reluctantly (although a big part of Spike was glad to be alone with Drusilla). Several years later, he got word she had moved back with the Master and, while he never really cared for the old batface, he was glad she wasn't alone. When they heard she had been killed--and by Angel's hand--Spike and Dru had grieved. But now, she was back. Spike was about to see her, talk to her. He honestly had no idea how he felt about the whole thing.

Dru knocked merrily on the door and was answered by a "Come in!" from the room within. It was so odd for Spike to hear her voice again that it took Drusilla lightly pulling on his arm to bring him back to the present. They entered Darla's room (just as lavish as their own) to find her dressed in one of the hotel's bathrobes and trying to get off...of the telephone. "I've got to go now, Lindsey. Dru's here. Yes. Yes. I don't know. I am trying to Lindsey. Goodbye. I'm hanging up now." She put the phone back on the receiver. "Idiot." Only then did she turn around and see that Spike was with Drusilla.

"Look what I brought," Dru presented proudly.

Darla was taken aback by his appearance. The tight black T-shirt and jeans showed off his lean muscles and the bleached hair complimented his pale skin. The startling blue eyes and chiseled features hadn't changed, but his stance showed more confidence and power than she remembered. He was really very sexy, she had to admit. "Drusilla must be very happy," Darla thought to herself. Aloud, she said, "William! Uh...Spike. Aren't you a site for eternally preserved eyes. Sit down." They sat. "I have to say, I'm surprised. I didn't think even Dru would be able to bring you back. From what I hear, that cheerleader's clutches are quite tight," she said, remembering Angel and what he had done to her to protect the stupid slayer.

"I'm sure you're tighter," Spike said with a smirk. He wanted to keep this encounter nice and light for as long as possible. It worked. Darla quirked an eyebrow and a smile spread across her face.

"She's dead," Drusilla mentioned.

"He knows I'm dead, Dru."

"No, the slayer. She means the slayer's dead," Spike clarified.

"Dead?"

"D-E-A-D," Drusilla spelled out helpfully.

"Thanks, Dru. How did this tragic event occur?" Darla asked, smile growing even wider.

"An ex-bird of mine did her in accidentally when she came to kill me."

"Well, Spike, you always did have very...interesting taste in women." She briefly eyed Drusilla. "I should have known you'd come back. You always did follow Dru around like a little lapdog." Drusilla let out a playful bark, but before Spike could take offense, Darla continued: "Speaking of lapdogs, I really think it's time to kill Lindsey. Don't get me wrong, he's been fun, but he's just gotten so clingy. He told me that if you didn't come back with Spike, he wanted me to move into his apartment. Can you imagine?" She laughed. "He still thinks I'm weak form the fire. He clearly doesn't know squat about vampiric healing."

"He loves you," Drusilla said with a tilt of her head.

"Yes, and it's amusing, but I'm getting bored. I'm also afraid he might try to hurt Angel--and I'm the only one allowed to do that. Besides, we'll still have Lilah as our Wolfram and Hart liaison and she's less of a threat."

"Mmm, wicked Lilah..." Dru ran her fingers down her cheek.

"I hear she has soft skin," Spike interjected.

"Dru's taken quite a liking to her. Haven't you, precious?" Dru nodded and rested her head against Spike's shoulder.

Suddenly, a maid entered the room. Darla had neglected to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the doorknob and the woman had come in to clean. With imperceptible speed, Darla snapped her neck, threw her out the door, and slammed and locked it. "I loathe interruptions."

Spike took in her speed and finesse. "Your--"

"Not a fledgling? No. That's one of the handy dandy perks of having Drusilla sire me. Wolfram and Hart brought her back to do it because they wanted me to be as connected to Angel as possible--part of the same blood line and all--so I could control him. But they also knew that Dru could restore me to my full power. Something about my old blood still in her veins...Lindsey explained it all to me, but I lost interest and tuned him out."

"Baby's all grown up." Dru began to stroke Darla's hair and Darla leaned into the caress. Spike had forgotten how much he missed watching the two of them together.

"In a nutshell, I'm as strong as I ever was--which is a damned good thing or Angelus would try to dominate me the second he came back. Although, I may let him do that anyway."

"About that...how exactly do you plan to make Angel into his old, bad self again?"

"Pray." She laughed. "At first, I just planned to bang the soul out of him, but he made it very clear to me in an abandoned convent that--"

"That only works with Buffy."

"Precisely." She stopped, perplexed. "How did you know that?"

He shrugged. "I started to think about it after Buffy died. She said once Angel told her she was the only person he had ever loved since the curse. I figured as long as he was all soul-having, he'd need love to be happy."

"Still the Victorian love poet," Darla thought to herself. She continued out loud: "He told me I never made him happy," she nearly spat the words. Then she went on, more calmly. "But I realized that that wasn't *my* boy talking--it was the filthy Soul. I know I made Angelus sublimely happy, but to get him back, the Soul has to be happy--and that's something I can't do."

"What about you and Dru both?" Spike joked. "Angelus and I were both pretty happy the first time you let us take you two concurrently...to make up for your cheap fornication with the Immortal...and every time after that."

Darla smiled at both the joke and the memory before her face became serious once again. "You said it yourself, the Soul needs love to be happy."

"Not that I'm all gung-ho about this return of Angelus idea, but you must have thought of witchcraft. Red--uh, a witch back in Sunnydale--she magicked the soul back into him once. Couldn't you magick it out?"

"So it can be magicked right back in again? I don't think so. That would just be a temporary fix and I can't go through all this again."

"But you said we'd get Daddy back. You said!"

"Shh, princess, shh," Spike soothed her.

"I know what I said. That's why I have Lilah finding us a permanent solution as we speak. Surely she won't let us down--she likes being alive."

Spike was secretly relieved. If they weren't going to use sex or a gypsy spell to de-soul Angel, then that was it. This Lilah bird couldn't be that good...

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"Here's the talisman, the sacred sand, and the chant you requested from the archives, Ms. Morgan."

"Thank you. Now hold all my calls and be very sure I'm not interrupted for any reason--barring apocalypse, of course."

"You got it, Ms. Morgan," the secretary said as she exited the office and closed the door behind her.

"'You got it,'" Lilah mocked in a high, squeaky whine. "I'll have to get Agent Hauser to arrange an accident for that girl," she said, thinking out loud. She then took a deep breath and glanced around her office to make sure everything was in order and presentable for her meeting; it was. Lilah stepped into the center of the room, held the talisman in front of her with one hand, and used the other to pour the crimson-colored sand in a circle on the floor as she began to chant:
"Beatum sit in nomine D'Hoffrynis. Fiat hoc spatium porta ad mundum Arashmaharris."

A bright flash of light filled the room, followed by a low, booming voice. "Behold, D'Hoffryn. Lord of Arashmahar. He that turns the air to blood and rains--" He turned to face her and his voice raised to a normal, pleasant pitch. "Ms. Morgan. It's a pleasure to see you again."

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A/N: How will D'Hoffryn help get rid of Angel's soul? Will Spike cooperate? Will the plan work? You'll just have to read as soon as I update to find out. Here is me begging: Please leave feedback! Pretty, pretty please? It makes me sad when I see that out of the 358 people who read my story, only two of them left reviews. See the link that says "Review A Family Again"? *Please* click it. If you liked the first three chapters, I'd love to know so I could have a happy. If you didn't, I'd love to know why so I could make improvements in future chapters. If you have ideas, I'll try to incorporate them. Here's a bribe: I'll email those who review when I update. See how desperate I am for feedback? As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.