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Kallysten
Disclaimer : Of course they belong to someone else, I just play with them sometimes.
Distribution : Sure, just tell me where.
Story notes : AU, set after As We Were and before Hell's Bells.
Warnings : Character Death, Bloodplay, NC-17 in future chapters
Feedback : Anything but flames kallysten_fr@yahoo.com As for most fanfic authors,
feedback motivates me to write faster... (hint, hint)
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Spike raised his head from where it was laying on Buffy’s chest to look at her face. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling, a peaceful, content smile. He brushed his lips on hers, light as a feather. Unable to resist, his tongue traced her mouth, tasting remnants of his own blood. He trailed kisses down her throat to the fresh marks he had left on her silky skin, lapping at them lovingly. That simple gesture made her stir against him.
“I love you.”
Hell, he would never get used to it. Every time she said these simple words he felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest. He pulled her on top of him, grateful that the damn table was so sturdy.
“I love you too, Buffy.”
He gave her kiss, slow and soft. With a sigh, she pulled away from his mouth and glided to the floor.
“We’d better clean up. Even in post marital bliss, Anya would kill us for making such a mess in here.”
Pulling himself to a sitting position, he watched her put her clothes back on. She made a face at the ripped panties and gave him a nasty look.
“’Bet they’ve made worse messes than this,” he said idly, noting that for all her glares she had managed to rip off all the buttons of his shirt.
She gave him a puzzled look, and he almost giggled.
“Come on luv, demon girl and Harris? It’s not hard to figure out what they do in here after store hours. Never noticed the smell? You should be able to, now.”
Her eyes widened, and he pulled her against him, laughing softly into her hair. The feel of her body renewed his desire and his hands wandered along her sides, caressing softly. She swatted the adventurous fingers away, giving him a serious look.
“Time to clean. Then patrol. Then go home and shag.”
Well, if she was putting it like that… It took them only a few minutes to pick up the books and things he had carelessly dumped on the floor. Buffy picked up the shards of a broken vase – what was it doing on the research table anyway? – and went to the office to throw it out. The store having been restored to its spotless state, Spike returned to the training room, intent on retrieving his duster, and particularly his cigarettes. He was slipping the leather back on when the last person on earth he would have wanted to see strode in through the alley door, full game mask in effect. Angel’s eyes were glowing fiercely, and Spike wondered for a second if the poof had found a way to lose his soul again. The older vampire came straight to him, growling, and took a swing toward his face. Spike managed to duck and took a shot at Angel’s stomach. The brunette grunted but lost no time before striking again.
When he had been fighting with Buffy, Spike had mostly been trying to avoid her blows, even if it meant that he had less chances to touch her in return. Against his Sire, the game was different. Being hit was acceptable as long as it opened a way for a counter attack. And hurting Angel was sooooo satisfying…
* * * * *
Dumping the remains of the vase in the trash, Buffy briefly wondered if it was a simple decoration item or something magical. In either case, she was sure she would hear about it when Anya noticed it was missing.
She grabbed a couple of blood bags in the fridge, wincing at the thought that there was no microwave to warm them. With a sigh, she sank her fangs in one of the bags and drained it quickly. She had fed a little from Spike, and he from her, but it wasn’t nearly enough after all the… exercise they had had tonight. All hail vampire stamina…
Just as she was leaving the office, she noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. She pressed the button to listen to the message. Some part of her brain had noticed the phone ringing a bit earlier, but she had been too occupied at the time to care about answering. Willow’s voice filled the room with urgency.
“Buffy, Angel is on his way to the Magic Shop. He knows about you and Spike. He’s really mad, Angelus kind of mad. You two be careful.”
“Bloody hell.”
The curse escaped her lips without her noticing that it was a typical spikism. Worry creasing her forehead, she hurried out of the office, her eyes looking around for her lover. She didn’t see him, but she heard, coming from the training room, the distinct sounds of a fight. In three seconds she was there, shouting for them to stop. Strangely enough, they did, both vampires looking at her intently, both still in fighting stances. Spike gave her a weird smile, loving and gentle despite the fangs he flashed at her and the blood that trickled down his face. Angel was just the same, vampire features and bloody mess. But his look screamed pain.
“Don’t fight…” she pleaded quietly, her hand raising toward them.
“He’s using you!” Angel growled. “And he will pay for that!”
With that, he lunged at Spike, tackling him to the ground, pummeling him mercilessly. She took a few steps toward them, but Spike’s eyes made contact with hers for a brief second and stopped her dead in her tracks. He didn’t want help. He didn’t need help. And he proved it right away, reversing the positions so that he was looming over Angel, returning the blows he had just received.
“This is not about Buffy,” she heard him growl. “This is about you! Whatever games you want to play, however hard you try to fool yourself, you’re not human. You’re a vampire, bloody soul or not.”
Angel managed to throw his Childe off him, pure fury coming from him in waves. He launched another round of kicks and punches, receiving as good as he gave.
“What would you know about souls?” he spat. “That chip in your head is not a soul. You’re just a demon!”
Spike jumped back a few steps, temporarily out of reach of Angel.
“You made me a demon,” he said calmly. “She is my soul.”
“Only because you forced her!”
Again, Angel threw himself at Spike, again another round of vicious blows flying both ways. Mesmerized, Buffy watched as her Sire and lover slowly but clearly began to take advantage over his own Sire. Even after hours of sparring, even after the last rounds on the table, even with the blood that covered his face and hands, he still was able to overpower the older vampire.
And suddenly, it struck her. Blood. Long ago, he had said something that she had only begun to understand when she was turned. It was always about blood. Her blood in his veins. Slayer blood in a vampire. He had once made the comment that Slayer blood was aphrodisiac. Apparently, it was more than that. And again, he was amazing her. Knowing how potent her blood was, knowing that she was the only human he could bite, knowing that he could have asked just about anything from her while he was making her ‘feel’, he had never bit her during the time she was using him. One more proof, unneeded but oh so sweet, that he loved her more than anything.
Angel was now on the floor, Spike standing over him, staring at him, fists closed but not fighting any more.
“For your information, bloody poof,” he said with a quiet growl, “I am not forcing her to anything.”
Buffy assisted to what happened next as in slow motion, unable to move from where she was. She saw a dark-haired kid approach Spike from behind, his face set in a deadly expression that screamed ‘kill’. She saw the stake in his hand, rising toward Spike’s back. She heard a shout, and the logical part of her brain told her it was Dawn’s voice. She didn’t look for her though, her eyes never leaving the boy. She saw him hesitate, ignoring Angel who was rising an appeasing hand toward him, instead looking behind him toward Dawn. In that brief moment of hesitation, Spike twirled and his foot caught the kid’s wrist, sending the stake flying through the room. Time returned to its proper pace, and Buffy left out a deep sigh.
She came closer to the fighters just as Angel was getting back to his feet. She gave both vampires an angry glare, her hands settling over her hips in a universal gesture of feminine anger.
“If the kids are done with their brawling, maybe we can talk like adults?”
Spike gave her an amused look, while Angel’s face turned totally inexpressive.
“He is manipulating you,” the oldest vampire said angrily. “And he’s doing it so well that you don’t even realize it.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, silently imploring whoever was out there to give Angel a clue.
Spike’s face had returned to his human features when she had come closer, but gold danced in his irises at Angel’s words. This was going to turn ugly again if she didn’t stop it quickly. She gave a glance at the boy who had come after Spike, abruptly wondering who he was.
“It’s Connor,” Angel answered her question, his voice suddenly soft.
Instantly, both Connor and Dawn corrected him in perfect synchronization.
“Steven.”
They looked at each other, exchanging startled looks. Angel nodded as he repeated the name apologetically.
“Steven. Long story.”
He gave her a pleading look, and she could feel that he was going to try to convince her again that Spike was using her. She turned to Spike, planting a quick kiss on his lips.
“Stay here please,” she asked.
He cocked his head, looking at her through eyes as tumultuous as the ocean in a storm. After a couple of seconds, he nodded slowly, throwing a quick frown at Angel but thankfully not saying a word. She grabbed Angel’s arm and dragged him outside in the alley.
* * * * *
Spike watched his Slayer and his Sire disappear from sight, and had to fight the urge to go after them. But she had asked him to stay. And he had agreed. Whipped.
Warily, he glanced at the boy who had come at his back, then at his nibblet. She was looking at him, worry shining in her eyes. He realized he must be quite a sight.
“It’s ok, bit,” he said gently, “it’s just blood. Nothing bad.”
She swallowed heavily and nodded, her face relaxing a little. He went by the couch where a towel had been left and wiped his face as well as he could. Minor cuts, mostly, but he was still going to look like a mass of bruises for a few days. Unless Buffy’s blood helped him heal faster. He couldn’t wait to try that theory.
Letting himself fall on the couch, he lit a cigarette, dragging on it heavily as he observed the kid. Steven, they had said. Whoever he was, he was still looking at Spike like he was expecting him to attack.
“Why did you try to stake me? ‘Don’t even know each other.”
The kid took a few steps toward him, shadowed by Dawn who was looking rather anxious.
“You’re a vampire,” Steven said coldly. “That’s all I need to know.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at that, chuckling softly. Before he could say anything though, Dawn was stepping between the two of them, her hands on her hips, looking exactly like Buffy a few moments earlier.
“You need to stop with that ‘kill all demons’ nonsense,” she said heatedly. “I told you some demons are good. Spike is one of them.”
Usually, he would have protested at being called ‘good’. He was anything but good! He was a Master Vampire, even if no one ever seemed to remember it any more. Yet, hearing the nibblet take his defense was just sweet and he contented himself with smiling at her back fondly. The boy however wasn’t relenting.
“He might pretend to be good,” he said as if pleading for Dawn to agree with him, “but he’s still a demon. And demons are bad.”
“I trust him,” Dawn insisted. “If you can’t trust him, at least trust me when I say he doesn’t hurt people.”
The kid gave her a searching look, before considering Spike for a long moment. Finally, he returned his attention to Dawn, shaking his head.
“I trust you,” he conceded. “But not him. I don’t trust demons.”
“Coming from the mouth of a demon, that’s just plain funny,” Spike commented with a smirk.
Both teens looked at him, Dawn quizzically, Steven angrily.
“I am not a demon,” he claimed loudly.
“I don’t know what you are, but you’re not completely human. ‘Cause you see, I can’t hurt humans. But I can hurt you.”
The boy didn’t understand his tirade of course, but Dawn did. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized. He had kicked the kid's hand to eliminate the stake menace. She asked breathlessly:
“The chip?”
“Didn’t react. Therefore our friend here is not human. And by the way, who is he?”
Dawn glanced at the frowning brunette before answering, as if she wasn’t sure she could.
“He’s Angel’s son,” she said quietly.
Spike was about to laugh at the joke when he noticed her look. She was serious.
“Bloody hell…”
He stared at the kid, who returned his look levelly. Now that he knew, he could see some resemblance. Even his scent was familiar, a mix of Angel and something else. Someone else.
“Your mother…” he asked very low. “Darla?”
Steven’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching.
“I was told that was her name,” he said coldly. “You knew her?”
Spike nodded absently, trying to understand how two vampires had managed to produce a child. Not completely human, or so the chip said, but certainly not vampire, with his strong and regular heartbeat.
“I knew her.”
Steven looked at Spike intently, as if waiting for more, but if he wanted to hear more he would have to ask. Spike wasn’t particularly inclined to go down that memory lane right now. Finally the kid asked a question, though not what Spike expected.
“Why were you fighting him?”
Good question, really, that had about a hundred answers, all part of the truth. It had started because of Buffy, certainly. But for Spike it had quickly turned into payback for a hundred and something years of pain and solitude, which had only ended when Buffy accepted him in her life. Even during his years with Drusilla, a shadow had been standing over them, always present.
“I could spend the night giving you reasons,” he said finally. “Short story is, the poof and I have some communication problems.”
Dawn gave him a curious look. That was certainly not the answer she had expected. She sat on the couch next to him, leaning slightly against his shoulder, her eyes still focused on Steven. Spike suppressed an amused smile. What was it with Summers women and the Aurelius line?
“You hate him?” Steven asked suddenly, pulling Spike out of his thoughts.
Spike took a last drag on his cigarette before crushing it under his boot. Hate. Such a big word.
“In a way, yes, I hate him,” he replied after a moment. “But it’s not that simple.”
“Why not? Either you hate someone or you don’t. I hate him. There’s nothing complicated about it.”
Dragging a hand through his hair, Spike considered the child in front of him. What could he know about hate already?
“Why do you hate him?” he asked softly, already almost sure of the answer.
“He’s a demon,” Steven replied flatly. “A killer.”
“Doesn’t it make a difference that he hasn’t killed anyone in years?”
“How do I know he hasn’t? And what about the murders before that? What if he starts killing again?”
Spike nodded. He knew the kid’s line of thought all too well. How many times had these words been said about him?
“Everybody makes mistakes,” he said in a whisper. “Humans, demons, it doesn’t change a thing what you are. In the end, it’s all about what you do to make up for them.”
Dawn’s little hand sneaked up and took hold of his. He glanced at her, finding her eyes full of tears, and squeezed her fingers gently. For the longest time, Steven stared at them, vampire and little girl huddled against each other, her comforting him with a touch of her hand. He returned the look without wavering. He had nothing to hide and was not ashamed of what he was and who he loved. Eventually, the kid’s posture relaxed imperceptibly.
“Maybe there are good demons,” he muttered under his breath.
Half a smile crept up on Spike’s face. He might come to like him. Come to think of it, they shared the same blood. What did that make them? Brothers?
* * * * *
Once they were out in the alley, Buffy let go of Angel’s arm. If she was to convince him of anything, she had to take him away from Spike. These two couldn’t be in the same room without sparks flying and threatening to light a blaze. She settled herself in front of him and looked straight into his eyes.
“Spike is in no way and has never been using me, controlling me or playing games with my mind,” she declared forcefully.
He shook his head, smiling sadly at her.
“You don’t even realize what he is doing to you,” he said quietly.
His fingers traced the fresh puncture marks on the side of her neck, and she had to control herself not to take a step back.
“What he is doing is love me. And I love him too.”
His hand fell back at his side, his eyes flashing gold. He opened his mouth but she spoke again before he could say a word.
“Don’t you dare say that he forced me to love him. You know that if he was doing any such thing I would be aware of it. I love him, period.”
She hesitated for a second, then steeled herself and delivered the final blow.
“I was in love with him before he turned me,” she whispered. “So don’t say it’s just a Sire thing.”
His eyes closed and threw his head back, turning his face to the sky. She remained quiet, waiting for the reaction she was sure was coming. But when it came, it wasn't what she expected. He shook his head, and his eyes found hers again, looking deep, searching.
“Why him?” he asked quietly. “Of all people, why Spike?”
She couldn’t stand his gaze and walked a few steps away, wrapping her arms around herself. It hurt to pain him so, but he was the one who had come back even though their relationship was over. If he didn’t want to understand, she would have to make him.
“Spike looks at me,” she said finally, “and he sees all I am. He sees the light and the dark. The nice parts and the not so nice. And he loves it all. He accepts me as what I am. He did when I was human. He still does now. And I realized that I love all he is too. The nice and the not so nice. His human side and his vampire side. I already loved it all before he turned me.”
She dared a glance at Angel. He had retreated to the wall and was leaning against it, as if needing some kind of support to remain standing.
“When we were together,” he started hesitantly, “after you were turned…”
She interrupted him quickly.
“No, it wasn’t about him then. I was with you, truly, I really believed it could work between us. But it couldn’t. Even if he hadn’t been around, it still wouldn’t have worked.”
His face was completely drained of emotions as he stared at the ground unblinkingly. Uncertain, she considered her next words carefully. She came back in front of him and caught his eyes.
“Angel… I value your friendship. I am touched that you care about me so much. But I beg you, do not try to come up between Spike and me again. If you hurt him, or drain him, or kill him, I will not hesitate to dust you. It will hurt like hell, but I will.”
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