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Her Pet	By : TwilightDreams Category: Angel the Series > Het - Male/Female > Illyria/Spike(William) > Illyria/Spike(William) Views: 2521 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Her Pet
- 2-Experimentation
- 1
- 2
Chapter One
A Different Sound

�That�s it! I have had just about enough of your soddin� mightier than thou attitude!�
The blond vampire snarled at the tall, straight female figure standing before him -- who appeared utterly unaffected by his building tirade. �I�ve told you again and again, you can *not* just punch me �cause you bloody well feel like it! This is a test of your abilities, your strengths and weaknesses and such -- that�s all! Not a chance for you to play a few relaxing rounds of �let�s get our jollies by beating the bloody stuffing out of the vamp�!�
�I have no weaknesses -- and your words are tiresome to me.�
The blue-skinned woman tilted her head slightly as she spoke, in a gesture that would have appeared curious, if not for the absolutely blank expression on her face. Without another word of explanation, without hesitation, her fist shot out and slammed into the vampire�s face, with enough force to send him sprawling against the wall twenty feet away.
Spike let out a low groan as his body fell to the floor, struggling wearily back to his feet -- and Illyria almost -- *almost* -- smiled.
�That noise is more pleasing to me than your meaningless speech sounds,� she informed him coolly.
�Well, that�s just too bloody bad,� Spike laughed darkly, giving her a smoldering look of fury as he stalked back toward her. �You�re going to have to get used to *not* hearing it, because I don�t have nearly so much soddin� fun *making* those �noises� as you seem to hearin� �em!�
Her breathtaking, lightning fast kick to his chest expressed her opinion on the matter, and Spike found himself once again picking himself up off the floor several yards away from her, with a soft groan of pain at the repeated stress on his battered body.
�Why?�
His jaw momentarily clenched in anger as Spike made his way back toward her, forcing his own question out impatiently through gritted teeth. �Why what? Why don�t I like it? Maybe because it *bloody hurts*!�
The last two words were an outraged roar, right in her face -- but Illyria did not flinch, though her features shifted slightly into an expression of annoyance. That expression was all the warning Spike had before she had backhanded him, almost carelessly, but with enough strength to send him staggering backward.
�Your bellowing offends me,� she offered by way of explanation for the unprovoked blow, waiting while he caught his balance again, shaking his head to clear it, before clarifying her previous question, �Why do you make such sounds when I hurt you, if you do not want to make them? What meaning have your wordless noises?�
Spike blinked at her for a moment in silence, not sure whether his confusion was due more to the many blows he had taken to the head, or to Illyria�s strange questions. His eyes widened slightly as he realized that she would not possibly understand natural, involuntary actions -- not when she was accustomed to a realm in which she never did anything that she did not want to do.
�Well,� he began slowly, formulating his answer as he went along. �It�s not something I actually choose to do, rightly. It�s more of a -- an involuntary thing for humans -- and vampires -- and, well, pretty much all -- all�� His voice trailed off as he searched for a term to describe basically all species not hers.
�Lesser beings,� she supplied with clear disdain in her voice.
Scowling at her in annoyance, Spike slowly replied in a sarcastic tone, �Yeah -- if you wanna put it that way, Your Great Soddin� Washed-up Has-Been-ness.�
�Washed up has been?� Illyria echoed, unfamiliar with the term.
On second consideration, Spike thought better of enlightening her as to its meaning. �Never mind.�
Illyria�s expression did not change, but something flashed in her eyes that looked dangerously like irritation -- before another stunning blow sent Spike flying again with a startled yelp of pain.
�It matters not why you make these sounds,� she concluded dismissively. �The sounds of your pain still amuse me, regardless of their source.�
�Is that right,� Spike glowered as he rose to his feet, his head lowered slightly as his vampire features came to the fore. With a snarl he lunged at her, growling out menacingly, �Let�s see how much soddin� pleasure your screams of pain bring *me*!�
He never did find out.
Twenty minutes later, Illyria wandered out of the room where they had been sparring, in search of her human guide -- who had been more difficult to find than usual lately.
The half-breed had lasted longer than she had expected, but he had not succeeded in drawing from her the sort of sounds he had made.
In fact, he had not even succeeded in remaining conscious.
And, as he was silent when he was unconscious, Illyria soon found herself feeling a vague, restless sensation that Wesley had referred to as �boredom�.
She thought that the oddly unsettled, uncertain feeling would leave her, if only she could find Wesley and get him to advise her. She was not sure why being around him seemed to ease the strange, troublesome sensations she often felt these days -- probably because of the lingering traces of the emotions the shell had once felt for him.
And Wesley�s emotions for the shell were obviously still very powerful; Illyria had discovered that beyond all doubt after assuming the form of the shell for the benefit of her visiting parents. She had assumed that Wesley would appreciate the gesture, even be happy to be gifted with the image she had presented for a little while again.
But quite the opposite had proven to be true.
Whereas before she had assumed the guise of Winifred Burkle, Wesley had faithfully stayed at her side, willingly guiding her through the complexities of living in this world; now, he seemed to be avoiding her, giving her vague excuses in order to get away from her anytime she sought him out.
It was -- unsettling.
She found him in his office, as usual, surrounded by his books -- though he didn�t seem to be actually focusing on any of them. His eyes were directed downward toward the words in front of him, but they had a distant, thoughtful look in them that indicated his mind was far from the room he was physically in.
It was a drastic difference from the animated state he had been in before, constantly, eagerly seeking knowledge to share with her, to help her make her way in this world.
She sensed when he became aware of her presence -- and yet he did not look up, did not speak to her.
It made her feel -- angry. And -- and something else. Something she could not quite name.
But she did not like it.
�You have noted my entrance,� she stated in a voice of quiet, restrained outrage. �You are aware of my presence -- and yet you do not acknowledge me in any way.� There was an accusation in her words, demanding an immediate explanation.
The faint, wearily ironic smile that rose to the ex-Watcher�s lips only increased the unsettled sensation in Illyria�s stomach, as he drew in a vaguely impatient breath to respond, still without looking at her.
�Yes, well, occasionally when one is interrupted while they are busy, that may happen, Illyria. If I haven�t anything to say, then it�s quite likely that I won�t speak at all.�
She stared at him for a long moment, intently, trying to discern the subtle implications of his tone, expression -- all the human subtleties with which she was so unfamiliar, so incapable of fully comprehending. What she did comprehend was extremely displeasing to her.
�You distance yourself from me,� she observed, hating the slight tremble she heard in her own voice, making her tone severe so as to make him believe it was from her anger. �You still harbor anger toward me for my attempts to help you appease the shell�s parents -- and you avoid me -- to punish me.�
�I am not attempting to punish you, Illyria,� Wesley argued quietly, in an overly patient voice, still not looking at her. �I am simply very busy at the moment.� Finally, he looked up at her, his piercing eyes solemn and severe as he reminded her pointedly, �You know, I *did* have a job -- responsibilities -- here, long before you -- arrived.�
Suddenly, Illyria had a revelation, comprehending his harsh tone, the displeasure in his eyes, and interpreting it -- and the revelation was accompanied by a dark, cold sensation of discomfort and displeasure that she could not quite put a name to, as she stated her conclusion in a voice of stunned dismay.
�My presence disturbs you. You wish me to leave.�
Wesley stared at her for a long moment, a slight frown creasing his brow, as he seemed to be in the midst of some inner debate. Finally, he looked back down at his book, absently turning a page, though he had not been reading, as he replied in a very soft, calm tone of voice.
�Yes -- it does. And yes � I do.�
Illyria felt that cold, uncomfortable sensation intensify, as she stared at him, her eyes narrowing with building anger. She considered, uncertain of how to react. In her own time, her own world, she would have destroyed this paltry human in an instant for his insolence, his arrogant dismissal of one so far his better. But even had she still had the power to do so, she somehow knew that she would not have done such a thing -- not to Wesley.
And that knowledge alone upset her further.
In the end, all she could do was to say in an unusually quiet voice, �I shall leave you to your work. I do not know why it matters -- but I do not wish to disturb you.�
Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked toward the door. As she stepped out into the hall, she heard Wesley�s heavy sigh behind her, and was aware that though her presence disturbed him, her leaving in such a manner seemed to bother him as well.
It was confusing -- troubling -- and utterly frustrating.
Suddenly, she wanted to return to the testing room and see if her vampire had awakened yet. She felt a strong desire to hit him again, to hear the sounds he made that brought her such pleasure -- to distract her from the troublesome feelings she could not understand, brought on by the disturbing encounter she had just had with Wesley.
As she made her way back toward the testing room, she found her attention drawn by a quiet sound, barely audible, but clear to her acute hearing, and she changed her course, heading toward the source of the sound. It had drawn her interest, because it was somewhat similar to the noises she so enjoyed that Spike made -- though it was -- different, in some way.
It did not seem to be a sound of pain, for one thing.
As she neared the source of the sound, she found herself near the front entrance of the office building, approaching the front desk from the hallway behind it. Seated in front of a computer behind the desk was a uniformed security guard, who at first glance appeared human -- but as she drew closer, she could sense that he was not a human, but a half-breed.
Well -- she could sense it -- and also, his face bore the evidence.
As the sounds became clearer -- soft whimpers and moans and pleading words -- Illyria found her eyes drawn to the colored light emanating from the computer screen in front of the guard. The screen was small, but her senses were sharp, and even from several yards away, Illyria could make out the forms on the screen of a human male and female, engaged in the act of coupling.
Her head tilted slightly as she watched it with rising interest, though she did not move or make a sound to betray her presence to the security guard.
Not that he would have easily noticed her.
He seemed more than a little -- distracted.
The sounds that the human male on the screen was making drew her attention, as she noted the similarities and differences to the sounds she had heard in her sparring sessions with Spike. In some ways they were the same; yet in others, not the same at all. The male did not seem to be in any pain, but rather experiencing the heights of physical pleasure.
A new curiosity came over her, and she found herself wondering once more about the complexities of communication between the members of the lesser breeds she had found herself among. It seemed that they rarely said what they meant -- and many times, they used no words for the things they tried to express. These meaningless groans, whimpers -- sounds similar to those she had enjoyed before -- were in response to the touch of another; and that was something that Illyria had a hard time understanding -- the inner workings of human -- or half-breed -- physical touch and pleasure.
But she meant to come to understand it.
Purposefully she turned in place, never making a sound, and strode back down the hall toward the testing chamber where she had left Spike -- leaving the oblivious security guard to his internet porn, unaware that he had been observed at all.
********************************
Spike groaned as he felt his senses returning, and gradually became aware of his surroundings again. He was lying on the floor of the large room where he had been testing Illyria, where she had knocked him with one final, powerful fist to his head.
*Testing her�yeah,* he thought with resentful disgust. *Bloody good job I�m doing, in�nit? Getting the unliving daylights kicked out of me by Miss High and Mighty Smurf�right wonderful job you�ve done with this one, mate�*
He leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing deeply, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his bearings. At least she had gotten bored for the moment and moved on to some other interest -- not that she had that many.
He opened his eyes -- and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her standing mere inches away in front of him, her wide, unblinking eyes locked onto his with a curious glint.
�Bloody hell, Blue!� he exclaimed, jerking backward so hard that his head knocked into the wall behind him, and he winced. Clenching his jaw in irritation, he raised a hand to cup the back of his head, glaring at her resentfully. �Do you have to stand so bloody close? Give a bloke some space, yeah?�
She did not respond in any way, and she did not move back, either. When Spike realized that she had no intention of backing off, he froze, giving her a sharp, suspicious look, one eyebrow raised in question.
�Well? What is it, pet?� he asked a bit impatiently. �What�s with the up close and personal all of a sudden?�
�I have much I wish to learn.�
When she just stopped there, with no further clarification, Spike nodded slowly, taking her words in. �Well � yeah,� he acknowledged. �And you will, but��
�I wish to learn from you.�
Spike�s eyes widened momentarily, before he looked away, sliding out from between Illyria and the wall and walking a few steps away, reaching for his cigarettes. She did not follow him, did not move from where she stood, except to turn her face toward him as he spoke.
�Isn�t that Percy�s job, pet?�
Illyria was quiet for a moment, before she stated flatly, �Wesley no longer desires to assist me. And there are things you can show me that he cannot.�
A smirk of suggestive amusement rose to Spike�s lips, and he chuckled softly as he replied, �Yeah, I�d wager that�s right. But I�d also wager that�s not what you�re talking about. What exactly did you have in mind?� He turned curious blue eyes toward her, as he raised his lit cigarette to his lips.
Without replying she walked past him to the door, then paused to stand in the doorway. �Come,� she ordered imperiously, and stepped out into the hallway without another word.
Spike hesitated for a moment, drawing in a deep drag on his cigarette, staring speculatively toward the empty doorway. Her commanding air was a bit of an irritation to him, and he did not have to follow her, he knew that. In fact, it would probably be a lot safer and less complicated if he followed Percy�s example and kept his distance from the strange creature.
But finally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped out into the hallway.
Illyria had not stopped to wait for him, and was just turning the corner at the end of the hall. He rushed to catch up with her, falling into step with her just as she made another turn, taking them deeper into the center of the building.
�So where we going, Blue?� he asked her, eyeing her from beside her as he took another drag on his cigarette.
�Where we will not be disturbed,� Illyria replied simply. �I have many questions to which I must find the answers, and I tire of the constant interruptions of your peers.�
Spike let out a quiet huff of a laugh at that. �Yeah,� he agreed. �I tire of �em, too.�
She stopped outside the open door of an empty conference room, before walking through it and waiting for him to follow before she closed the door behind them. Spike glanced around the empty room, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the large, gleaming wooden table that dominated the room.
He smirked as he ground out the stub of his cigarette against the polished wood, then tossed the butt down on the plush carpeting, turning his eyes speculatively to Illyria to ask, �So what do you wanna know, love? What questions have you got that you figure�ll take so much time and privacy?�
Illyria regarded him for a moment before responding in a calm, even voice, �I wish to learn more of the wordless sounds you make. I wish to discover more ways in which to manipulate your body to produce the noises that please me.�
Spike�s mouth dropped open in shock, and he slid slowly off the table, back to a wary standing position.
�Look, pet,� he said in a cautious voice, �I�m right exhausted already. If it�s sparring you�re after, it�s gonna have to wait. And you might pick a better place for it, too. There�s no bloody room in here��
Before he could finish his comment, Illyria had moved with that unnatural speed of hers, and was standing directly in front of him, bare inches between their bodies, as her hand darted out to firmly grasp his slightly bulging denim-covered crotch.
A gasp of alarm turned into a slight moan of mingled pleasure and pain, as she squeezed slightly harder � and Illyria smiled, her next words filling Spike with a strange mixture of alarm and anticipation, as she spoke in a quiet voice of satisfaction, and curiosity.
�This interests me more than violence. We shall begin.�
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Her Pet