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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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Her cheek resting on Spike’s chest, Buffy was tracing light patterns on his alabaster skin. She knew it was time to get out of bed, but she couldn’t make herself pull away from his embrace. It wasn’t like she had something to do, anyway. Dawn was out, shopping with Cordelia and Steven. Cordy had proposed the day before to take her with them, and Dawn had accepted enthusiastically. The only other person in the building was Angel, and she felt a bit awkward around him. Long ago, Spike had told her she and Angel would never be friends, and now she knew he was right. There had been too much between them for either to be really comfortable around the other.
A soft purr escaped Spike’s lips and she grinned, remembering how he had made her purr the night before. In truth, she had been upset when he joined her in bed. He had been told to rest in preparation of the operation, and instead he had been sparing with a kid, of all people. But he had found delightful ways to make her forget her irritation. At the memory, her body suddenly felt like it was burning, and she shifted against him, moving up until her face was next to his. She observed his features, marveling at how peaceful and innocent he looked in his sleep. She had long ago realized that his constant smirk was a barrier to protect his too-human emotions from prying eyes.
Her gaze traveled down his neck until it met the latest marks she had left there two nights before. Healed already, they were no more than slightly puckered scars. She kissed them softly, wondering if they were as sensitive as hers were. Spike stirred against her, giving her an answer, and she smiled against his skin. She hadn’t taken from him the past night. The surgeon had told him to drink a lot of blood, and her drinking from him would be just the opposite. More than twenty-four hours without biting… The demon was crying in her, pleading for her to feed, not just from a blood bag, but from her Sire and lover. The longest she stayed without sinking her fangs in his flesh, the hardest it was not to give in to the hunger. She nibbled at the mark with blunt teeth, fighting the game face that was trying to force its way up.
“Stop torturing yourself and me, Childe. Drink.”
She stilled against him as he murmured the sleepy words. He knew her so well, too well it seemed sometimes.
“Whatever you take,” he said as she still wasn’t biting, “I can replace before tonight.”
Buffy felt her control slip as his hand came to her hair, caressing her locks. She gave in to her bloodlust as well as to his need, and slowly pushed her fangs into his silky skin. As she took a few shallow sips, he purred again, and this time she purred with him.
The demon having been satisfied, she returned to her human features and licked the tiny wounds clean.
“Do you know what today is, luv?”
She tucked her head under his chin, sighing happily as his fingers started tracing random patterns on her back.
“Hmmm… the day you lose the chip?”
“That too. But today is the one month anniversary of your turning.”
She frowned a little. Surely it hadn’t been that long… It seemed only like yesterday that she had awakened in his arms and fed from him for the first time. A month..? Yes, a month. Time had gone so fast, so many things had happened, that she hadn’t even realized.
“Do you still feel alive after your first month?” he asked softly.
She gave a quick kiss to his chest, closing her eyes in contentment.
“More than ever.”
For a few minutes, they rested in silence, simply enjoying the feel of each other. Then Spike’s voice rose, a quiet whisper.
“Luv… I want to ask you something.”
“Hmmm?”
The fingers caressing her back hesitated for a second before resuming their regular rhythm.
“That guy is going to mess up with my brain. Hopefully all will go fine…”
She raised her head from his chest and placed her lips on his, silencing him with a kiss.
“Not hopefully,” she said firmly. “Everything will be fine, period.”
He gave her his warmest, most tender smile as his hand glided up to her cheek, stroking lightly.
“Just in case it doesn’t go so fine… I don’t want to spend eternity as a vegetable, luv. If for any reason my brain is damaged too badly, I want you to dust me.”
Unwanted tears came to Buffy’s eyes. She shook her head and tried to protest, but only a weak sob passed her lips. He cupped her face gently between both his hands and covered it with tiny kisses until the tears were gone.
“Will you do that for me Buffy?”
Still unable to say a word, she nodded, accepting his request while promising silently not to live a minute longer than him. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, live without his love and blood. He rolled over her, his mouth pressing wet caresses to her skin. Before long, he had made her forget all gloomy thoughts, replacing them by love.
* * * * *
Hesitating, Angel bit his lower lip and frowned, his pencil immobile on the paper, trying to decide what name to write. The drawing was for a young man called Steven, and Angel was getting used to the idea. The baby pictured in his mother’s arms, however, had had another name, for the few months he had brightened Angel’s life. A few precious months whose memory Angel cherished, when his son had given him smiles instead of scowls. Sighing, the vampire finished the inscription. Whatever Steven wanted or said, he had once been called Connor, and he was still his son.
Darla & Connor.
He ran a light finger on Darla’s features. In truth, he had rarely seen her smile that tenderly. But he imagined that’s what she would have looked like, had she had the chance to ever know their son and hold him in her arms. Darla as a mother. The idea was almost laughable. She had never shown much of a motherly side, not until she chose her son’s life over her own.
Now that the drawing was finished, Angel had to decide how to give it to Steven. He finally settled for the easiest way, and simply went to the kid’s bedroom and laid the paper on his bed. He gave a quick glance around him. Steven had been living there for more than a week, but the room wore no traces of being occupied. And that was exactly why Cordy had taken him shopping, Angel reminded himself as he closed the door behind him.
He frowned briefly in the direction of his guests’ bedroom, his acute hearing picking up noises he would have rather not heard. They were the only persons in the hotel with him at this time, with Cordy out with the kids, Fred and Gunn on vacation, and Lorne gone to try his luck under brighter skies.
Somber, he returned to his office, safely away from his Childe and GrandChilde. They both refused to leave his thoughts however, and before long he was starting another drawing. The lines appeared easily on the paper, without requiring much thinking. He knew both their faces so well, he could have drawn them blindfolded. He had mourned his love for Buffy, and only wished for her to find happiness. If Spike could give it to her, and it didn’t take long to see that he could and did, then good for both of them. Angel knew how deeply Spike could love, and Buffy deserved to be loved like that.
When he was done, he observed the drawing for a long moment, lost in thoughts and memories, until the phone ringing pulled him out of his daydreaming.
“Angel Investigation,” he said absently.
“Angelus.”
The voice was ice and chilled Angel to his bones.
“Holtz,” he replied just as coldly.
“I want to see you.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to leave. I need to talk to you before that.”
Angel forced his hand open and stared at the broken pieces of the pencil in his palm.
“Where?”
As the man who had stolen his son gave him the address of his hotel, Angel wrote it down on a scrap piece of paper. Long after he had hung up the phone, the vampire was still trying to decide whether he would go to the rendezvous, and if he did, what he would do when facing Holtz.
* * * * *
The sunset was near, and Buffy and Spike had finally emerged from their bedroom. Buffy was eating some leftover pizza in the kitchen, while Spike was pacing in the lobby, slowly sipping his third mug of blood, and shamelessly eavesdropping on Angel and the cheerleader. They were in the poof’s office, but they had been arguing so loudly he had heard all of it. It was good that Steven was in his room, because he probably wouldn’t have liked that conversation.
“Angel,” Cordelia insisted once more, “please think about this. In fact, don't go there at all.”
“I have to.”
“I know. But don't.”
Puzzled, Spike wondered if these two were together. He would never have thought so, but their argument sounded almost like a lovers’ quarrel.
“I'm not gonna kill him even though he deserves it.”
Cold that voice, so cold, almost Angelus like.
“Oh, I don't care if you kill him. He stole Connor's childhood, so kill him. But don't lie to your son. Way to build the trust.”
Fire answering to ice. Spike would never have believed the girl could talk about death so casually.
“I'm not lying to him.”
“No, you're just asking me to distract him while you go confront the man he thinks of as his father.”
For a couple of seconds, there was only silence, then Angel spoke again, quietly this time, and if Spike hadn’t been just behind the door he wouldn’t have heard him.
“I am his father.”
Not bothering with knocking, Spike pushed the door open. Two angry pairs of eyes settled on him instantly. He ignored Cordelia and returned Angel’s stare without wavering.
“Three weeks ago you almost killed your own Childe for a woman,” he said slowly. “Do you really think you’ll be able to look at that man you hate and not kill him for your son?”
Spike could see flakes of gold dancing in Angel’s eyes. Without leaving him time to answer, he continued.
“If you touch one hair from that guy, Steven will know, sooner or later. And when he does, you will lose him completely. Are you ready for that?”
Angel leaned back in his chair, his head thrown back, eyes closed. The answer was long to come, but when it did both Spike and Cordelia released a small sigh.
“No.”
Cordelia gave a grateful smile to Spike, and he replied with a wink.
“Good to hear you haven’t completely lost it,” Spike said with a smirk. “Want to come with me and the Slayer? I don’t know if I’ll be able to drive afterward and I’d rather not leave a rented car in her hands.”
“Hey I heard that!”
Buffy strode in the office, pouting, and punched Spike’s shoulder. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her forehead soundly. From the corner of his eye, he noticed two things. The cheerleader was carefully observing Angel’s reaction at the display of affection. And Angel’s reaction was nothing but a faint smile.
“Shall we go then, Childer?” the brunette asked quietly.
* * * * *
Cordelia smiled at the two kids entering the lobby together. They weren’t yet at the holding hands stage, but she could see it coming pretty fast. She frowned briefly at the thought. It would come, yes, too fast. Someone would need to talk to Steven, since he hadn’t had many contacts with members of the opposite sex in the hell dimension he had grown up in. And she certainly wasn’t volunteering for the job. She might be acting as Steven’s step-mother in many ways, she drew the line to conversations about birds and bees. Of course, being in truth his step-mother might have been otherwise rewarding…
“Hey you two,” she said as cheerfully as she could. “Ready for a movie?”
She saw their twin smiles slowly disappear to be replaced by shock as they looked at her. Cordelia realized that she was glowing, and started to voice her protest at the impending vision. The images came, all too clear. A man, dying, two punctures in his neck. A child finding him, anger and rage burning him to cinders. Holtz and Steven. In a flash, it was gone, and Cordy could only stare at Steven in front of her, wondering how she was going to stop the mess this time. Then she noticed that both kids were frozen, Dawn’s hand half raised toward her, Steven’s eyes wide and unblinking, immobile statues.
She took a step toward them, her hand instinctively coming up to touch Dawn’s.
“Don't be frightened.”
At the quiet words, Cordelia jumped, her heart suddenly beating furiously. She turned toward the voice, pressing a hand to her chest.
”It's a little late for that!” she said a bit angrily.
The demon smiled at her apologetically, presenting his hands to her in an appeasing gesture.
“Sorry,” he said gently. “You remember me? I'm...”
“Yeah. Skip,” she interrupted. “You tend to remember your demon guides. What is going on?”
“It’s time, Cordelia. You've outgrown this dimension. You've become… a higher being.”
Cordelia felt her knees weaken and she fought to stay upright. She looked at her guide questioningly, asking with a shaky voice:
“When you say I've… outgrown this level, that sort of implies...”
She didn’t know how to finish. It was just too crazy. She was only a normal girl, with visions and glowy powers, but still mostly normal! She was in love with her best friend, she helped him raise his kid, she couldn’t just…
“You’re moving on to a new one.”
Apparently, she could. Deep down, she knew it was right, she knew there was so much more she could do. And at the same time, she also knew she needed just a few more hours. Steven was there in front of her, he hadn’t seen the man he called father dead yet, she had to do something.
“I just need a little time,” she pleaded. “I just had a vision…”
Skip’s expression was unreadable, his look utterly blank, and it made her realize that he knew. He knew about the vision, knew what was going to happen.
“This is the last test, isn't it?” she asked quietly.
He gave her a very gentle smile, and she understood she was right. She was being asked to choose between a higher purpose and the two people that she had wished could become her family.
“I ever come face-to-face with those Powers That Be,” she muttered, “we are going to have a talk, a big talk.”
She turned again toward the still frozen Steven, wishing there was anything she could do to prevent what was bound to happen soon. Skip’s hand rested on her shoulder and pressed it lightly.
“You’re doing the right thing,” he said with an almost comforting tone.
“I’m sorry Angel,” she whispered, her eyes still on the vampire’s son.
Then she turned to Skip, and asked, louder: “What do I do?”
“Just say yes.”
She smiled very faintly, a deep feeling of peace settling in her. “I already have.”
Golden sparkles appeared around her and she started floating up in a corridor of white light.
* * * * *
Dawn blinked several times, staring at the empty spot where she had seen Cordelia glow just a second before.
“What happened?” she managed to ask. “Where is Cordy?”
Steven seemed as puzzled as she was, but not frightened by the strange disappearance.
“She is part demon,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe she can transport herself to other places?”
Dawn frowned at that. She had heard something about visions, but she didn’t know Cordy was a demon. Steven obviously knew more than she did. Come to think of it, he had been acting perfectly normally around Cordelia. And the day before, when he was sparing with Spike, he had joked and teased the vampire playfully. Apparently, his demon phobia was receding. She smiled at the thought, before remembering that Cordy had disappeared.
“Ok, so what do we do now?” she asked her friend.
“She can take care of herself,” Steven said firmly. “I don’t think we have to worry for her.”
Dawn nodded, and for a few seconds they were both silent. She couldn’t make herself meet his eyes, but she knew he was watching her, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
“Do you, uh, do you still want to go see a movie?” she asked hesitantly, forcing herself to look at him at last.
He tilted his head slightly, making her blush even more as she thought of how cute he was. She had been hoping to be alone with him at last since she had arrived in LA, she had hoped for something romantic and holding hands and kissing, but now that they were alone, all she could do was blush and ask stupid questions.
“I’d like to introduce you to my father,” he said quietly, almost shyly. “Would you like to meet him?”
A few minutes later, they were walking side by side in the streets of LA. Dawn knew that she would get in trouble with Buffy and Spike if they found out she had been out at night, but Steven had promised they would be back quickly. And she knew she was safe with him, his sparing with Spike had proved he was an excellent fighter. They made small talk as they went, comparing life in a hell dimension and on the Hellmouth, finding that they had more in common that Dawn would have thought. All too soon, they were at the hotel. Before opening the door, Steven gave her a bright smile, which she returned somewhat hesitantly. Then they entered the room, and all smiles disappeared.
Kneeling on the floor was a woman. On her lap was resting a man’s head. A dead man’s head. Steven approached the corpse and fell to his knees next to him, his fingers hovering next to the two punctures at his neck, but he didn’t touch them. Still at the door, Dawn pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. She forced her eyes away from the dead and looked at Steven. She wished she knew what to tell him. She remembered all too well losing her mother, and waiting for someone, anyone, to tell her something that would make her feel better. The words had never come.
Steven was completely still for a moment, then his head raised toward the woman. He didn’t say a word, but she answered his silent question.
“Angelus.”
Dawn was as shocked by the name as she was by the quiet growl that rose from Steven.
“It can’t be him,” she said shakily. “He went out with Spike and Buffy. They wouldn’t have let him…”
The woman glared at her through tears filled eyes.
“I know what I saw,” she spat. “And I’m lucky I escaped with my life. The beast has to pay.”
Dawn came closer until she could rest her hand on Steven’s shoulder. He shuddered at the touch, but did not move away. His eyes were back on the dead man.
“Before you believe anything,” she said softly, “ask them whether Angel was with them tonight. Just to make sure.”
“Don’t listen to that girl,” the woman said urgently. “You have to avenge your father. You can’t let the monster walk unpunished.”
For all her hate for Angel, Dawn couldn’t believe he would have killed a human. Angelus would have, with no doubt, and Angel had come close to killing Spike, but he didn’t hurt humans, just like her sister didn’t, because they had souls. Even without that certainty, she had seen the three vampires leave the Hyperion together, and she knew that Buffy would have staked Angel rather than letting him kill a human. She didn’t know why the woman insisted that Angel was the murderer, but Dawn was convinced she was lying, or mistaken.
After what seemed like an eternity, Steven gathered the dead man in his arms and stood. He gave a last look to the woman, before settling on Dawn eyes so cold and dead that she shivered.
“Steven?..” she questioned hesitantly.
“If he did it, he will die. If they knew, they will die too.”
With these words, he walked past her, carrying the man out. She followed him back to the Hyperion, surprised that no one was paying any attention to them or calling the police. Again, she wished she could reach out to him, but he didn’t seem to hear when she tried to talk to him. Her only hope was that the three vampires would return soon and be able to convince Steven that Angel wasn’t responsible. Assuming that he wasn’t, of course.
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