ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,844
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,844
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
POSITIONING
CHAPTER 135 - POSITIONING
LOS ANGELES
SOMEWHERE IN THE BOWELS OF WOLFRAM & HART
AUGUST 6, 2009
WEDNESDEARLEARLY EVENING
Well, one thing Ethan could say about his spartan accommodations, is that the food was better, that is, when they deemed to feed him.
He'd been in this small room, only slightly better than his cell had been, for the last week or so, as far as he could tell. The lights stayed on all day and night, making it hard to tell one time of day from another. Nobody had yet spoken to him or told him what they wanted from him. Between once and three times a day, or what he supposed was a day, a slot about a foot square in the heavy steel door was opened, and a bag of food was dropped onto the floor. No utensils; not even a spork. Oh well, the food was ample, tasty, and filling, if not consistenly delivered and a bit messy to eat.
In one corner of the ceiling there was a small camera, which followed any movement he made. Otherwise, there was nothing other than a small sink, toilet, and the four walls for company.
On the seventh day, Ethan was suddenly jarred out of the silence by an intercom, which must have been attached to the camera, which he hadn't noticed before.
"Hello, Rayne," the voice said, "I trust your stay has been a pleasant one."
"I can't complain," Ethan answered, "except for maybe the lights being on all the time. Makes it hard for a bloke to get a good night's sleep."
"Ah, well, some things can't be helped."
"Are you ready to find out about the job we've taken the trouble to break you out of prison for, is about?"
"Why not? Can I ask you how it is that you know of my work?"
He heard laughter coming from the monitor; "Let's just say I was around when some others were affected by your plying your interesting trade."
"Sunnydale?"
"That's enough questions!"
Ethan tried to make out source of the voice, only it seemed that it was being purposely distorted, so he couldn't get a handle on it.
"So, what do you need me to do?" asked Ethan.
"I need a strong protection spell, cast by a coven of witches, disrupted for a while."
"How long?"
"Just for a night, a few hours should do the trick. Can you do that?"
"Not exactly. I mean, not me personally. I don't have that sort of power-breaking ability, but I can cause enough chaos to render it broken."
"How?"
"I can summon enough demons to get the job done," Ethan replied.
"My next question then, is can you summon then remotely?"
"Remotely?"
"Yes. The coven is in England. Outside of London."
Ethan thought for a moment, "As long as you have a specific spot on the map for me to focus on, then I'll be able to do it, but I'll have to at least go there in spirit form in order for the summoning to work. But don't worry, you'll have something of mine that will still tether me to this place."
"And what would that be?"
"My body, of course."
The voice over the intercom grunted.
"Tell me what ingredients you're going to need," the voice said.
After Ethan had listed them, he asked, "When will I be doing this, exactly?"
"Why, do you need to do something otherwise to get ready?"
"Uh, no. Just curious."
"Within a few days."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She slender, dark-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed, riveted to the screen, which played the images on a loop.
No shutting off!
No reprieve!
No relief!
Over and over and over again!
At first she'd screamed, cursed, and thrown things at it, but there wasn't anything hard enough in the room to break it. Neither was there any way to pull it out of the wall, since it had been placed near the ceiling of the tall room. She wished she'd learned to scale walls, like some of the more powerful vampires she'd known could. Wish she'd taken a lesson or two from Drac on that; though he had shown her the thrall thing, which had come easily to her.
And so she sat, her eyes narrowed, dark and angry, as she watched Spike. Her Spike! Her William! Now, an abomination; human again, and with that slayer bitch!
She heard a key being turned in the lock, then pushed open. Slowly, she turned toward the sound. Not since she'd been here, had anyone passed through it. Bags of blood had been delivered through a slot in the door, which opened on one side, then a tray would slide fod, cd, causing a door to pop open on her side, and the bags would drop onto the floor.
Angel looked down at the bags that had collected there, "Hello, Dru," he said.
"Angel! I should have known," she hissed, "you always did enjoy games of torture."
"Oh, Dru! Is that any way to greet your sire?"
He came over to her and pulled her up, feeling her thin wrists, as he did, "You've been a bad girl, not eating since you've been here, and I've brought you the finest blood we have."
"I don't drink cold blood from bags!" she said. "Or warmed by things called microwaves," she said, motioning her head to the only thing she hadn't thrown at the screen, because that was inside the wall, too.
"I could force you, you know."
She just looked at him defiantly, her eyes yellow.
He laughed, "But I won't. He took out his walkie-talkie, "Bring in the kid."
The door was opened and a young man in his 20's was shoved in, the door slamming behind him.
"Mr. Angel? I think there's been some mistake...I didn't steal those pens, really..."
The boy babbled on as Angel turned to Dru, gesturing to the boy.
She walked up to him, morphing into game face, as the young man's fear and blood assaulted her senses.
"Please! Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry! Mr. Angel!" The boy screamed as Dru, struck his neck with her nails, a long stream of blood spurting out as his carotid artery was Wit Within seconds Dru had him by the throat and was draining him, her body starved for blood over the past week.
"Dru?" Angel said, walking up to her, now in game face, as well. "Save some for me," he said, pulling the boy towards him. Dru pulled back, but he backhanded her, sending herawliawling across the room. He grabbed the boy and latched onto the other side of his neck, drinking for a few minutes. It was satisfying, yontrontrolling his urge, more so; that was pure artistry. That control was what allowed him to head Wolfram & Hart, allowed him to plan out the sweetest vengeance of all. And unlike Dru, he didn’t mind blood warmed in the microwave, straight from the Red C, if, if that’s what it took. Besides, he’d rather developed a yen for the rich taste of otter blood. Yes, it had been a long time since he had tasted blood, straight from a human.
Dru watched him, a knowing glint in her eyes. She sat up. With one arm, Angel tossed the boy towards her. She caught him easily and sunk her fangs into him once more, drinking until she could feel his heart com a s a stop.
Angel stood over her and extended his hand, pulling her up.
"Now that we've been social, Dru, tell me, how do you like the show?" Angel said, pointing to the screen on the wall, now featuring William and Buffy at the Starbuck's on Dana Point.
She stared at the screen for a moment, her voice low; “I knew it, Angel, I knew my William was gone and then, he was back. The stars, they told me," said,aid, looking at him.
"Yes. Yes he is,” he said, his goi going dark a moment, as he glanced up at the screen and saw them in the jewelry store.
“And with her, the slayer!” Dru spat the name out. “I knew...knew it before he did, that he wanted her. Did you know that our Spike once threatened to kill me for the slayer?
Angel shook his head, “That wasn’t very nice of him, was it, Dru?”
“Right after you tried to set Darla and me on fire,” she said, accusingly.
“I’m sorry about that, Dru.”
She looked at him suspiciously, without replying.
“You loved the slayer, too. Why do you all want her?” Dru asked, a puzzled look on her face.
“I’m over it,” he said, curtly, “way over it!”
Angel walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, motioning for Dru to do the same.
“I’ve done a lot of things that I’m sorry for, Dru, trying to...”
“Trying to be a good dog.”
“Yes, but I know what I am now.”
“A bad dog?”
“A top dog, one with power. One who does what he wants and makes things happen; who who wants you to help me correct a certain situation," he said, motioning to the video playing once more.
“You want me to kill the slayer for you?” Dru asked, gleefully, feeling a sense of excitement surge through her, which she hadn’t felt in years.
“No, not the slayer." Angel said.
Dru hissed her frustration, "Why? Why can't I kill her?"
"I'll deal with her myself, “Angel said, “later. What I want you to do is to kill William.”
Dru tilted her head to the side, then began to giggle, “You want me to kill him, then turn him back into Spike, so we can be a little family again?”
Angel shook his head, standing up in front of her, and stroking her hair, “No, Dru darling. You’re not understandin’...William...Spike; he's been irreparably tainted beyond anything that we can ever fix again.”
Dru nodded her head, “He tastes like ashes.”
“It’s sad, I know,” Angel said, as his hand slid down the front of her dress to fondle her breast. He bent over until his mouth was next to her ear, “Think! It’ll be just like it was in the beginning - you, me...”
“Darla?”
“Darla’s dead.”
“I know, Angel. Then it won’t be just like it was...”
“No, it’ll be just you and me, sweet thing,” he said, pushing her back, so that she lay on the bed, her legs over the side. He pulled up her dress, and quickly undid his pants and without fanfare, pulled her legs around his waist and roughly pushed inside her. Iciness to ice.
“Just daddy and me?” Dru asked, grinning. "And Miss Edith?"
“Yes, darling, just you and me; and Miss Edith. Together again, forever.”
END CHAPTER 135
LOS ANGELES
SOMEWHERE IN THE BOWELS OF WOLFRAM & HART
AUGUST 6, 2009
WEDNESDEARLEARLY EVENING
Well, one thing Ethan could say about his spartan accommodations, is that the food was better, that is, when they deemed to feed him.
He'd been in this small room, only slightly better than his cell had been, for the last week or so, as far as he could tell. The lights stayed on all day and night, making it hard to tell one time of day from another. Nobody had yet spoken to him or told him what they wanted from him. Between once and three times a day, or what he supposed was a day, a slot about a foot square in the heavy steel door was opened, and a bag of food was dropped onto the floor. No utensils; not even a spork. Oh well, the food was ample, tasty, and filling, if not consistenly delivered and a bit messy to eat.
In one corner of the ceiling there was a small camera, which followed any movement he made. Otherwise, there was nothing other than a small sink, toilet, and the four walls for company.
On the seventh day, Ethan was suddenly jarred out of the silence by an intercom, which must have been attached to the camera, which he hadn't noticed before.
"Hello, Rayne," the voice said, "I trust your stay has been a pleasant one."
"I can't complain," Ethan answered, "except for maybe the lights being on all the time. Makes it hard for a bloke to get a good night's sleep."
"Ah, well, some things can't be helped."
"Are you ready to find out about the job we've taken the trouble to break you out of prison for, is about?"
"Why not? Can I ask you how it is that you know of my work?"
He heard laughter coming from the monitor; "Let's just say I was around when some others were affected by your plying your interesting trade."
"Sunnydale?"
"That's enough questions!"
Ethan tried to make out source of the voice, only it seemed that it was being purposely distorted, so he couldn't get a handle on it.
"So, what do you need me to do?" asked Ethan.
"I need a strong protection spell, cast by a coven of witches, disrupted for a while."
"How long?"
"Just for a night, a few hours should do the trick. Can you do that?"
"Not exactly. I mean, not me personally. I don't have that sort of power-breaking ability, but I can cause enough chaos to render it broken."
"How?"
"I can summon enough demons to get the job done," Ethan replied.
"My next question then, is can you summon then remotely?"
"Remotely?"
"Yes. The coven is in England. Outside of London."
Ethan thought for a moment, "As long as you have a specific spot on the map for me to focus on, then I'll be able to do it, but I'll have to at least go there in spirit form in order for the summoning to work. But don't worry, you'll have something of mine that will still tether me to this place."
"And what would that be?"
"My body, of course."
The voice over the intercom grunted.
"Tell me what ingredients you're going to need," the voice said.
After Ethan had listed them, he asked, "When will I be doing this, exactly?"
"Why, do you need to do something otherwise to get ready?"
"Uh, no. Just curious."
"Within a few days."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She slender, dark-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed, riveted to the screen, which played the images on a loop.
No shutting off!
No reprieve!
No relief!
Over and over and over again!
At first she'd screamed, cursed, and thrown things at it, but there wasn't anything hard enough in the room to break it. Neither was there any way to pull it out of the wall, since it had been placed near the ceiling of the tall room. She wished she'd learned to scale walls, like some of the more powerful vampires she'd known could. Wish she'd taken a lesson or two from Drac on that; though he had shown her the thrall thing, which had come easily to her.
And so she sat, her eyes narrowed, dark and angry, as she watched Spike. Her Spike! Her William! Now, an abomination; human again, and with that slayer bitch!
She heard a key being turned in the lock, then pushed open. Slowly, she turned toward the sound. Not since she'd been here, had anyone passed through it. Bags of blood had been delivered through a slot in the door, which opened on one side, then a tray would slide fod, cd, causing a door to pop open on her side, and the bags would drop onto the floor.
Angel looked down at the bags that had collected there, "Hello, Dru," he said.
"Angel! I should have known," she hissed, "you always did enjoy games of torture."
"Oh, Dru! Is that any way to greet your sire?"
He came over to her and pulled her up, feeling her thin wrists, as he did, "You've been a bad girl, not eating since you've been here, and I've brought you the finest blood we have."
"I don't drink cold blood from bags!" she said. "Or warmed by things called microwaves," she said, motioning her head to the only thing she hadn't thrown at the screen, because that was inside the wall, too.
"I could force you, you know."
She just looked at him defiantly, her eyes yellow.
He laughed, "But I won't. He took out his walkie-talkie, "Bring in the kid."
The door was opened and a young man in his 20's was shoved in, the door slamming behind him.
"Mr. Angel? I think there's been some mistake...I didn't steal those pens, really..."
The boy babbled on as Angel turned to Dru, gesturing to the boy.
She walked up to him, morphing into game face, as the young man's fear and blood assaulted her senses.
"Please! Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry! Mr. Angel!" The boy screamed as Dru, struck his neck with her nails, a long stream of blood spurting out as his carotid artery was Wit Within seconds Dru had him by the throat and was draining him, her body starved for blood over the past week.
"Dru?" Angel said, walking up to her, now in game face, as well. "Save some for me," he said, pulling the boy towards him. Dru pulled back, but he backhanded her, sending herawliawling across the room. He grabbed the boy and latched onto the other side of his neck, drinking for a few minutes. It was satisfying, yontrontrolling his urge, more so; that was pure artistry. That control was what allowed him to head Wolfram & Hart, allowed him to plan out the sweetest vengeance of all. And unlike Dru, he didn’t mind blood warmed in the microwave, straight from the Red C, if, if that’s what it took. Besides, he’d rather developed a yen for the rich taste of otter blood. Yes, it had been a long time since he had tasted blood, straight from a human.
Dru watched him, a knowing glint in her eyes. She sat up. With one arm, Angel tossed the boy towards her. She caught him easily and sunk her fangs into him once more, drinking until she could feel his heart com a s a stop.
Angel stood over her and extended his hand, pulling her up.
"Now that we've been social, Dru, tell me, how do you like the show?" Angel said, pointing to the screen on the wall, now featuring William and Buffy at the Starbuck's on Dana Point.
She stared at the screen for a moment, her voice low; “I knew it, Angel, I knew my William was gone and then, he was back. The stars, they told me," said,aid, looking at him.
"Yes. Yes he is,” he said, his goi going dark a moment, as he glanced up at the screen and saw them in the jewelry store.
“And with her, the slayer!” Dru spat the name out. “I knew...knew it before he did, that he wanted her. Did you know that our Spike once threatened to kill me for the slayer?
Angel shook his head, “That wasn’t very nice of him, was it, Dru?”
“Right after you tried to set Darla and me on fire,” she said, accusingly.
“I’m sorry about that, Dru.”
She looked at him suspiciously, without replying.
“You loved the slayer, too. Why do you all want her?” Dru asked, a puzzled look on her face.
“I’m over it,” he said, curtly, “way over it!”
Angel walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, motioning for Dru to do the same.
“I’ve done a lot of things that I’m sorry for, Dru, trying to...”
“Trying to be a good dog.”
“Yes, but I know what I am now.”
“A bad dog?”
“A top dog, one with power. One who does what he wants and makes things happen; who who wants you to help me correct a certain situation," he said, motioning to the video playing once more.
“You want me to kill the slayer for you?” Dru asked, gleefully, feeling a sense of excitement surge through her, which she hadn’t felt in years.
“No, not the slayer." Angel said.
Dru hissed her frustration, "Why? Why can't I kill her?"
"I'll deal with her myself, “Angel said, “later. What I want you to do is to kill William.”
Dru tilted her head to the side, then began to giggle, “You want me to kill him, then turn him back into Spike, so we can be a little family again?”
Angel shook his head, standing up in front of her, and stroking her hair, “No, Dru darling. You’re not understandin’...William...Spike; he's been irreparably tainted beyond anything that we can ever fix again.”
Dru nodded her head, “He tastes like ashes.”
“It’s sad, I know,” Angel said, as his hand slid down the front of her dress to fondle her breast. He bent over until his mouth was next to her ear, “Think! It’ll be just like it was in the beginning - you, me...”
“Darla?”
“Darla’s dead.”
“I know, Angel. Then it won’t be just like it was...”
“No, it’ll be just you and me, sweet thing,” he said, pushing her back, so that she lay on the bed, her legs over the side. He pulled up her dress, and quickly undid his pants and without fanfare, pulled her legs around his waist and roughly pushed inside her. Iciness to ice.
“Just daddy and me?” Dru asked, grinning. "And Miss Edith?"
“Yes, darling, just you and me; and Miss Edith. Together again, forever.”
END CHAPTER 135