WWWWW
A, S, W. The letters twisted and turned in antique gold,
entwined together but significantly placed. The A was the most prominent and
dominated the rest, to it's right and marginally lower was the S while at the
base of both was the W, dominated by the A and only slightly joined with the S.
Around the letters were roses, ivy and other tiny delicate details lovingly
painted onto the wooden pencil case. The small wooden box that Angelus had been
working on the day he questioned her essay, the day they all went to LA, the
day he gave her to Spike...like you would give a lolly to a sulking childe as
some type of succor.
The day after, Angelus had shown her the pencil box and
bestowed a kiss on her forehead while she was soaking in the bath. Then he'd
walked away, laughing softly, taking the box with him back to her room and
leaving Willow sitting in a hot bath that suddenly felt like ice. Even the
knowledge that he had set it all up, been planning it for lord knows how long,
didn't stop her from getting out of the bath, wrapping herself up in a fluffy
towel and heading back to her room. Back to Angelus.
For the rest of the time she had been "ill" she
fell into a strange routine sleeping alone from midnight until Angelus woke her
just before sunrise, generally spending a few hours in her bed before leading
her into his room, to his bed and to Spike. The daylight hours were spent with
both of them and depending on their plans so was the evening until she was put
to bed, exhausted at midnight and it would start all over again with Angelus
waking her just before dawn. Long hours passed, full of carnal delight,
whispered words of affection and soft caresses. Minutes blurred into hours and
days were mingled together. Lessons were taught and eagerly learnt and she almost
forgot who they were, what they were, until they bit her again.
It was the weekend before she went back to school, a quiet
Sunday afternoon spent in bed together. Angelus had slipped off her choker, his
fingers caressing old bite marks before his fangs sank in her soft flesh, hard
and deep in one swift movement. His tongue drew lazy circles about the skin
that was caught between his jaws and she had tangled her hand in his hair as
she leant back against him while he suckled at her neck. With a growl he tore
his mouth away and for hours both the vampires had lapped at the bloody trails
that marked her body until the wound finally stopped bleeding and they were all
entwined together in a sated heap.
That night Angelus had taken her from the bed, laughing with
her as he draped her arms over his and stretched them out in mock imitation of
the crucifixion. The laughter had died off and he turned them, his voice low
and menacing as he spoke quietly of blood and the right of his childe. Even as
Spike's arms wrapped about her, pulling her into him, she'd heard Angelus'
growl and mention of the strength of the blood that bound them. Spike's fingers
tangled in her hair, tilting her head back, exposing her neck as his tongue
lashed out, moistening her skin momentarily before his fangs pierced her flesh.
Pausing, he pulled back slightly, sucking at the first flow of blood and then,
growling and jerking her body hard against him, his fangs sank into the hilt.
His tongue laved the skin caught between his teeth, adding pressure to increase
the flow of her blood. Just as quickly as he'd bitten he pulled away and
covered her lips with his, letting her taste the coppery essence that he'd
consumed. It was then that she realized they were alone and they remained so
for the next few hours until Angelus joined them once more.
They were indeed strange days followed by stranger nights,
full of laughter, conversation and carnal delight.
Of course it changed when she went back to school ~ nearly two
weeks ago. She'd slipped back into her previous routine ~ training with Spike,
breakfast then off to school. The afternoons were different though, once or
twice she'd gone to her parents house but more often she'd end up at the
mansion. Angelus never made any comment about her presence in the mansion,
sometimes in the morning he'd instruct her to come directly back, but the days
she just showed up nothing was said. It was easier for Willow to go to the
mansion, to have Angelus ask her questions about her day, listen to her
complaints, tease her and make vile threats towards her teachers, which made
her giggle. He gave her an insight to the things she learnt at school, quite
content to chat with her about various things. They were the type of conversations
she had always longed for, she could freely ask questions and he'd
enthusiastically argue points with her. She found the afternoons to be more
educational than school and certainly far more comfortable ~ she didn't have to
worry about awkward questions, trying to avoid people or having to deal with
the guilt of disappointing her friends by declining their offers. School for
Willow was becoming a horrendous ordeal, constantly surrounded by people and
yet remaining totally and frighteningly alone.
Like she was now, sitting in the school library at
lunchtime, her fingers caressing the gold letters of her pencil box when she
was suppose to be helping Giles by looking up stuff on the net.
"Willow," Giles voice broke through her reverie
of lost thoughts. "Have you had any success on the computer?"
"What? Oh, no, sorry I haven't been able to find
anything," she pulled her hand away from the pencil box and sat up
straighter in the computer chair.
"This is hopeless," declared Buffy, slamming her
book shut and shoving it away. "We have nothing to go on, none of these
books even mention anything like I've seen."
Willow shifted in her chair and grimaced. Angelus was quite
happy for her to continue assisting the Scooby Gang, helping the Watcher with
research on various demons and other vampires as long as she told him what was
going on. He'd made no protest about her association with the Slayer, in fact
he took delight in the difficulty it presented her. As long as she obeyed the
rules he had set she was basically free to do as she pleased. Even that
knowledge didn't really help her, especially as she looked up at Giles and he
smiled.
"Well it looks like we'll have a long night ahead of
us," he sighed and Buffy moaned out loud.
"I can help," offered Willow, turning back to the
computer screen so she wouldn't have to see his face when she disappointed him.
"But I have to be home by nine."
"Well, of course, Willow," he took off his
glasses and scrutinized the girl before him. "We appreciate any assistance
you can offer."
"What?" came the demanding question from Buffy.
"Will, your parents are away, they won't even know if you're home at
nine."
"They...they call at nine and I...well, I don't want
to worry them," she stuttered. This was the part she hated, why she chose
to disassociate from them as much as possible, the lies that she found so easy
to spin.
"Worry them?" Buffy asked in astonishment.
"You do understand how dangerous these demons are? We have to find a way
of stopping them before they tear us to shreds, not to mention the countless
lives at risk, and you can't help because you don't want to worry your
parents?"
"Well, I know it's bad but I can help now," she
turned to Giles, twisting her hands together an apologetic look on her face.
"I can skip this afternoons classes..."
"No Willow, that won't be necessary," the Watcher
smiled at her. "I'm sure we are more than capable of finding the
information we need..."
"You can skip classes without batting an eyelid, but
you have to be home by nine?" Buffy cut him off, the stress and
frustration of the last few days catching up with her. "What is going on
with you? I mean, god, is it going to kill anyone if you aren't home by nine?
Or do you have to be home that early so you can pick out the perfect outfit for
tomorrow's classes? I'm starting to think that you and Cordelia somehow had a
personality transplant. God knows she's been more help lately than you. What's
going on? Have you forgotten the responsibility we have? We all have to make
sacrifices."
"Really, Buffy, I don't think that Willow," Giles
began only to be cut off by one furious redhead.
"Responsibility?" she spat the word out as if it
were poison, her face paling and eyes narrowing in fury. Her hand flew to her
choker, all she had to do was rip it off and expose the bite marks. Show them
all exactly how many sacrifices she had made to keep them safe from Angelus.
"Don't you dare talk to me about responsibility. You have no idea..."
"Excuse me? Slayer here, Chosen One. I know all about
responsibility, so I think I have a right. How can you turn your back on this,
on us, because you are worried about upsetting your parents? We can't do this
without you..."
"Buffy, I think perhaps you are over reacting..."
Giles began.
"No, I'm not Giles," she spat out at the Watcher
before turning back to Willow who was still clutching at her choker. "You
know what Willow, just go! Don't worry about staying back tonight, we wouldn't
want you to upset your parents."
Willow stood up, biting her lip to keep from screaming out,
from spilling forth her agreement with Angelus. All she had to do was open her
mouth and tell them, tell them everything that had been happening and it would
be over. Except of course it wouldn't. If she told them what she so desperately
wanted to they'd be dead, she had no doubts about that at all. So she lifted
her head high, dropped her hand down from her choker, and gathered up her
things. Without looking at either Buffy or Giles she turned on her heel and
left the library, left the school grounds and within half an hour she was at
the mansion...standing stunned in the doorway of the bathroom leading into
Angelus' bedroom.
There was something hypnotic about the scene playing out
before her. Of Drusilla and Angelus fucking hard, a twisted mass of pale flesh.
A second girl lay beneath their spread legs her face buried between Dru's legs
while her cunt was eagerly devouring Dru's fingers. Angelus was grunting like
the animal he appeared to be, demon features distorting his face as his hands
clawed at Dru's back, drawing blood with every vicious thrust he made. Growling
low in his throat, he glanced up at Willow. A half snarl curled into a wicked
grin as he never broke the rhythm, making Dru scream and sink her fangs into
the fleshy thigh of the girl beneath them. Angelus' growl turned into a
rumbling laugh as he leant forward, continuing to thrust into his childe,
tangling his fist in her dark hair and yanking her head away from the girl,
exposing her neck. Snarling, he sank his fangs in deep into his childe's throat
and she howled his name.
An arm wrapped about Willow's waist and she was pulled
away, back into the cool confines of the bathroom, the door being closed behind
her did little to mute the sounds emitting from the threesome. By the time she
had been walked across the bathroom and into her bedroom she was struggling
against the hold, her face flaming.
"Let me go," she screamed, slapping and clawing
at the arm that held her so tightly.
"Come on, pet, settle down," Spike murmured,
pulling her bathroom door closed behind them.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do," she hissed,
twisting about, her elbows digging into his ribcage making him grunt.
Grinding his teeth together, he released his hold on her,
dropping her down to the floor. "Fine, scream and distract him...see what
that'll get you."
Staring at him defiantly, she pushed herself up off the
floor, running her fingers through her hair and brushing it off her face. For
the first time she took in his appearance, naked except for his jeans, the top
button undone, while his hair was a bedraggled mess. He turned away and picked
up a half smoked cigarette that he'd abandoned when he had pulled her from
Angelus' room. Lazily, he took a drag and watched as her eyes narrowed and she
glared at him. Smirking, he dropped the cigarette down and exhaled, blowing the
smoke into her face. That was the final straw.
"Do you mind? This is my room and I don't want you
smoking in here," she reached out to snatch his cigarette when his hand
curled about her wrist, bending it back making her cry out. With another sharp
twist of her arm she found herself thrown back on the bed.
"You don't get it do you?" he snarled as she sat
up. Tossing the cigarette aside, he grabbed her hands again, holding them above
her head and pushing her back down on the bed, easily straddling her.
"This isn't your room. None of this is yours. Never has been, never will
be. It's Angelus', all of it, including you."
"Get off me," she squirmed in his grasp, bucking
her hips up, trying to get away from him.
"Don't make demands of me little girl," he
growled jerking her wrists roughly, making her cry out.
"Get off me you pig. I hate you. Why can't you just go
to hell and leave me alone," her fight renewed, twisting and turning,
screaming incoherently at him, struggling against his hold. Above her, Spike
swore and snarled.
"Keep going, pet. Fight me. Scream all you want,"
he hissed at her, tightening his hold on her wrists, his nails digging into her
flesh. His eyes flashed gold and using brute force he stilled her struggles,
angling his head to stare her down. "Get Angelus in here and see what
happens..."
"Please," she sobbed, unable to move beneath him.
"Have you finished your hysterics? 'Cause I'm not
letting you go 'til you have," he grinned lewdly and pressed his half
naked form against her. "Gets me all excited...women in tears and
begging."
He laughed and let her go, rolling over to lie next to her
on the rumbled bed. Turning her back on him, she curled up into a ball,
cradling her rapidly bruising wrists to her chest, and continued to whimper.
"Why aren't you at school, love?" It was a simple
question but he got no answer apart from her tears. He glanced at her back and
rolled his eyes. She was still crying, sniffing like the little girl she was.
Sighing, he glanced at the closed door to the bathroom. He was meant to be in
there, playing with his sire and Dru, initiating a fledgling...or rather
demeaning and humiliating a fledgling. Idly, he wondered if Dru's new pet would
make it out of there in one piece, she'd certainly held up well for the last
few hours, but there were still hours to go and he was missing out on the fun.
Shaking his head, he glared at the ceiling for a moment, listening to her cry.
"You going to tell me what you're chucking a wobbly over?"
The question only induced a huge gulping breath and a fresh
flood of tears.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, rolling onto his side
and grabbing her shoulders to turn her about to face him. "Come on, tell
me why you're here," he brushed away a few stray strands of hair and she
shook her head, sniffing loudly. He sighed, his fingers still playing in her
hair, and cocked an eyebrow. "So..." he began, wondering the best way
to get her out of the funk so he'd at least know what was going on. "Did
the school fall down? Perhaps a kindly individual with a penchant for setting
fire to public buildings raised it to the ground and gave you lot the day off.
Don't tell me...a plague hit, students sporting all sorts of lovely putrid
sores and scabs, perhaps a few limbs dropping off here and there..."
"No," it was a quiet denial, but at least she had
stopped crying. Deftly, his fingers traced the path of her tears moving down
her cheek.
"No? Damn, that would have been worth seeing," he
smiled, his fingers cupping her chin, tilting her head back so he could look
her in the eye. "Why are you here then?"
"Buffy," she mumbled, reaching up and encircling his
wrist with her fingers, applying a slight pressure to pull his hand away so she
could drop her head back down. "She said some things, stupid things
really, and I didn't want to be there..."
"Ah," said Spike, turning his hand in her grasp
so that his fingers could stroke her arm. She'd had a stupid fight and come
running back to the mansion, to Angelus. Nothing serious. Made sense to him, if
she didn't want to speak to the slayer the mansion was the only place she could
ensure that Buffy wouldn't show up at, if she were looking for the redhead ~
something that Spike doubted. Shifting slightly, he snuck an arm under her
waist to hold her while she stuttered through the rest of her explanation.
"So I came back here and...and..." the tears
started to well up again and Spike rolled his eyes, she really was nothing more
than a child.
"And what? You walked in on Angelus fucking? So
what?" he laughed at her and shook his head. Breaking her hold on his
hand, he brought it up to stroke her hair, while he drew languorous circles in
the small of her back. "Dru's got a new toy and Angelus, as her sire, is
showing his dominance...to both of them."
"So it's a one off thing?" she sniffled again and
looked up at him, frowning as he pulled her closer, her legs entwining with his
while her hands rested against his chest. A soft rumble of laughter left him.
"No."
"No? You mean he's..." she fixed her eyes on his
as curiosity got the better of her.
"What...you think just because you’re his pet that he
screws only you?" he watched as her face crumpled, tears starting a fresh.
"No," she spoke sharply, of course she knew there
were others but generally she thought that Spike was the only significant
'other'.
"No, he doesn't just fuck you little girl. The days
are full of long and boring hours, most of which you aren't here..."
"But you are," she stated, pulling her hands away
from his chest and rubbing furiously at her tears, angry with herself for
getting so upset.
Spike shook his head and laughed. "You haven't
listened to a thing. Angelus screws whomever, whenever and wherever he
wants."
"Doesn't that upset you at all?" she asked
incredulously.
"Nah," he shrugged and sighed at the various
questions that were clearly evident on her face. "You see, I know that no
matter what that it will be me in there with him when he sleeps, when it's more
than just a necessity or a whim."
"Why?" she asked quietly, contemplating
everything, from the savage act she'd seen to what he was telling her now.
"Because I'm special," he smirked and she jerked
her head up to stare at him. He'd made the comment offhandedly, meant as joke,
trying to get a reaction, to get a laugh. Instead it seem to have the opposite
affect, her face paled and her eyes widened in despair. Frowning, he dropped
his hand down to cup her cheek, the last thing he needed was her to have some
sort of post hysterical fit or to fall ill. "What is it, love?"
"So that makes me nothing?"
"What?" he asked totally confused by her train of
thought and beginning to question her intelligence.
"I'm not a vampire...I'm not a childe...I'm nothing
here."
"Believe me, love, you aren't nothing," he
reassured her. Of course the look on her face clearly showed that she didn't
believe a word he said. Silently he cursed the very nature of females and
sighed, pulling her in closer to him so that her body was pressed against his.
"Angelus has had a lot of consorts," he paused for a moment and
frowned before shaking his head, his fingers caressing her hair again. "Hell,
I wouldn't even call them consorts. They were girls who took his fancy, pretty
pieces of flesh that he stole from wherever he found them. Some he'd just fuck
so hard they'd die from shock. I remember this one girl, he found her amongst
London's finest society, sweet talked her at the opera one night and fooled her
into believing he wanted to rush her off to Gretna Green..."
"Gretna Green?" Willow asked frowning.
"Gretna Green was where you went to elope," he
explained and laughed lightly, shaking his head at the memory. "Stupid
little chit was dead by the break of dawn, he fucked her 'til she’d stopped
screaming then gave her to the minions. She was a worthless piece of flesh,
literally ~ he didn't even think enough of her to mark. Most of them were
beautiful and dumb. After he fucked them, he would grow bored, none of them had
any real enduring qualities apart from their looks so they were of no real use.
A few caught his attention and he kept them about for a while, generally
collared and chained to his bed...some of them lasted maybe a week or two. One
or two were different though. There was
a girl in London, but she wasn’t really a consort…” Spike paused, lost in a
memory that was older than a century.
“No, you couldn’t call her a consort, she’d never be anyone’s consort…”
Spike shook his head, clearing it of a memory he didn’t want to recall. “However, there was this one girl, a sweet
little brunette with the cutest French accent, she intrigued him. But she was
never allowed...this..." he motioned to the room and shrugged.
"What happened to her?" Willow paused, uncertain
of her own need to ask the question. "The French girl..."
"Darla came back from one of her many trips and
snapped the little girl’s neck," Spike smiled at the memory and shook his
head, fixing his gaze on Willow an evil smirk on his face. "It was great.
She and Angelus had this huge fight over it...he was truly pissed. Then the
stupid trollop took him away, to make it up to him, and he left us..." His
voice died off and Willow frowned. "So believe me love you aren't
nothing."
"Did he...did you ever...were you given
the...the..." she felt awkward, not wanting to really know about the
morbid details of past concubines but filled with a need for knowledge of their
history.
"Nah, they were his toys, off limits to everyone. To
do with as he pleased." Spike murmured, his fingers outlining her face,
dropping down to her choker.
"Then why now?"
He shrugged, his face unreadable before the wicked and
childish smirk she'd seen so many times lit up his face.
"Told you, I'm special," This time he got a
response, she giggled and rolled her eyes at him. His hand wrapped about her
throat, momentarily squeezing before he released her and cupped her chin.
Tilting his head, he looked at her closely, his eyes finally locking with hers
as his thumb traced her jaw line. "We're special."
"We are," she acknowledged softly, leaning
forward to brush her lips across his. Just as she was about to pull away his fingers
tangled in her long hair and the hand in her back held her firmly against him.
Opening her mouth, she gasped for air before his lips caught hers and his
tongue delved into her mouth. Their tongues played and her hands moved from his
chest to wrap about his lean body, resting against muscles that flexed as he
rolled her over onto her back. Nimble hands caressed clothes, pulled at buttons
and zips before the various items were sent flying through the air, landing
rather haphazardly around the room.
Somehow Spike found himself flat on his back with Willow
slowly kissing her way down his neck. Her hair felt like silk as she peppered
kisses along his chest, nipping at his nipples hard enough to make him growl,
moving down to his stomach and finally her hot mouth closed around his
throbbing cock. Closing his eyes, his fingers tangled in her hair as the warmth
of her mouth slid up and down, her tongue zigzagging along the underside of his
cock. What she couldn't take into her mouth she pumped with her hand while the
other fondled his balls, her thumb brushing the sensitive skin of the sac in
time with the strokes of her tongue and mouth, her fingers pressing against the
susceptible flesh below. He growled softly in the back of his throat, his hips
lifting up to meet the rhythm she was setting with her mouth. One of her
fingers sank into his puckered entrance as her mouth sucked hard and his hold
on her hair tightened, his eyes shooting open to stare blindly at stars that
weren't there. Then she added another finger and pressed against his prostate.
With a snarl his hips jerked up off the bed, breaking her rhythm and his hands
left her hair to grab her shoulders, pulling her up and away from him and back
onto the bed. His mouth crashed down on hers, one hand moving to her back, the
other moving between her legs as he shifted between them. Her hands clawed at
him, one of her legs wrapping about his waist while the other was bent, her
foot flat on the bed. Breaking the kiss, he grinned at her flushed face and lust
darkened eyes.
"Special," Spike hissed against her lips as he
thrust into her. She cried out and arched up into him. Eagerly they moved
against each other as their mouths came together, tongues imitating their
rhythm and actions, while hands teased and taunted fevered flesh. Mouths
wandered over flesh, sucking and biting, before meeting again, tongues dueling
as their bodies did the same. Pillows were pushed away, bed linen became damp
and tangled and still they continued to move together, their bodies becoming
slick from sweat. Suddenly he rolled them and Willow shrieked, clawing at his
chest to keep balance, although his hands on her hips would've prevented
anything happening to her. Holding her to him, he moved back to rest against
the bed head. One hand left her hips to tangle in her fiery locks, dragging her
down for a kiss. Her hands moved from his chest to grip his shoulders as she
drew her legs up to kneel. Without breaking his demanding kiss she began to
rock, his hand on her hip guiding the movements as she rode him. Growling, he
pulled back from the kiss slightly, nipping and biting at her lips before
breaking away to mouth his way down her throat, making her moan and tilt her
head back, exposing the decorated column for him. His tongue traced the outline
of her choker before abandoning it for her mouth once more.
Releasing her hair and breaking the kiss, he leant back
against the bed head, both his hands moving to hold her hips as she pumped up
and down on his cock. The very act of watching his cock slide in and out of her
warmth was an aphrodisiac, only heightened by the sight of her body moving,
covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and the sweet incoherent sounds of pleasure.
She was grinding against him with every downward thrust, her face twisting as
she used him merely for sexual enjoyment. The guiding pressure on her hips
increased as he sped up their pace. One hand left her hip to run over her
stomach and the soft curls of her pubic hair, both slick with sweat. Closing
his eyes, he rested his hand on his stomach, moving his thumb against her clit
every time she slammed down on him. It made her cry out, guttural sounds of
gratification and she squirmed against his thumb. As her movements became more
erratic he opened his eyes to watch her cum. Her whole body arched back, her
hands clutching at his knees, the nails digging into his flesh while her eyes
were glassy fixed on his and she cried out, long and loud. The feel of her
muscles contracting around his cock, combined with the glorious sight before
him, pushed him over the edge. His hands dug into her as his hips lifted up
from the bed, stilling momentarily as he came, his own cry mingling with hers.
Gasping for breath, she tumbled forward, collapsing against
his chest, and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Then they were moving
again, his arms curling about her, guiding her in where he wanted to go and
wrapping her up against his body as they stretched out on the bed. Sighing
contentedly, she wrapped her own arms about him as he kissed her softly, his
fingers straying once more to her hair. It was a soothing action that both the
vampires used on her, often lulling her to sleep. Even as her eyes began to
droop under the steady rhythm, she fought off the fatigue.
"Spike?" she whispered, her fingers moving
lightly over his arm that held her tightly.
"Hmm," he mumbled, almost asleep himself.
"Angelus won't go away again, will he?"
"No, he's here to stay," Spike chuckled.
"He's developed a healthy dislike of feeding on Gypsy's so that's not
going to be a problem."
"But what about Buffy?"
"Love, what makes you think a slayer could take down
Angelus?" his question carried more than a hint of amusement. "Maybe
in her prime she might have had a chance. Not now, he's too strong. He's not
going anywhere."
"But if he did..."
"Ask the bloody question," he smiled, his fingers
still caressing her hair, dulling her senses, urging her to give into the sweet
darkness of sleep.
"What would happen to me?" her voice was full of
trepidation and she held on to him tighter. "I mean you said that once he
was done with all the others the minions just..."
"Is that all you're worried about?" he asked,
never ceasing his caresses. "If your precious skin will be saved or if
you'll just be thrown to the pack?"
"No," she frowned and tried to pull away from
him, but he held her tight, ensuring she couldn't go anywhere.
"Angelus isn't going anywhere, love."
"But..."
"But nothing," he snarled, his jaw tightening slightly.
He dropped his hand down to caress the gold knots of her choker, his eyes
softening. "The marks you carry...you're a master vampire’s concubine,
Willow, you won't ever be anything else. Now shush, big night ahead of us and
you need to get some sleep."
"A big night?" she murmured, closing her eyes and
surrendering to the sweet seduction of his fingers in her hair.
"Angelus' car's ready to pick up, we're going to LA
for the night. Fancy food for you and a good night to be had by all. Now shut
up and get some sleep or I'll be forced to shag you until you're
unconscious," he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, a
small chuckle rumbling through his chest. He soon followed her into sleep,
listening to the slow hypnotic beat of her heart and the soft whispers of air
that warmed his skin with every breath she took.
It wasn't an easy sleep for Willow, she'd jerk half awake
as various sounds echoed through the mansion, girlish giggles combining with
squeals, growls and screams, only to fall back into a restless sleep in Spike's
confining arms. When she fully woke she wasn't exactly sure why she had. The
mansion was quiet and Spike slept soundly, his arms still tightly locked about
her. Blinking, she waited until her eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness
of her room and stretched as much as his embrace would allow. Sighing, she
squirmed trying to find a comfortable position when something in the colored
shadows caught her attention.
In one of the chairs near the end of her bed was Angelus.
Dressed in only his leather pants, elbows resting on the chairs arms, fingers
joined and steepled beneath his chin as he watched her.
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