At this moment Spike would have given anything to be able to pop
the sanctimonious watcher one. How dare he lay hands on what belonged to him.
He'd lost his grandsire, Dru, the ring, his bite, the Slayer… There was no way
he was letting his pet slip through his fingers as well. His boy was the first
good thing that had happened to him in this miserable town.
"Xander," the older
man called after the departing brunet. Finally showing some wisdom, the young
mortal obeyed his owner's command and walked off, ignoring the watcher. Spike
could tell by the dark haired youth's stiff shoulders and back that it was
killing him to do so. The human had obviously wanted to stay and speak to his
former mentor very badly. Bloody hell! And just when things had been looking a
little better. He'd come this close to getting his boy to admitting he was
enjoying some of the things they did together, sexually at the very least.
Then, of course, the sodding bookworm had appeared and spoilt
everything. The vampire had wanted to rip the man's arms off, when he'd dared
lay hands on his boy. He'd be damned all over again if he'd let the white hats
take this from him too. Stupid wanker had spent years neglecting the brunet and
now he was all concerned? Bollox.
The vampire found the Watcher's concerned act rich considering the
way he ignored the young man most of the time, showering his attention on all
his other pupils. The librarian basically overlooked the dark haired boy,
unless he needed a free set of shelves at the shop. Now, suddenly the great and
mighty Rupert Giles had come back from his self-imposed exile to help rescue
the boy's virtue, more likely to appease his conscious for abandoning a bunch
of children to guard an active hellmouth.
“What the Hell have you done to him, Spike?” the Giles demanded
angrily.
“Not a thing, if you discount the shagging. Though he seems to
quite enjoy that,” the peroxide blond taunted.
"We should have destroyed you a long time ago, Spike,"
the mortal snarled. Doesn’t like
hearing the gory details does he? What does he think I keep the boy around to
polish my Sex Pistols CD collection?
"Too late for that now," the master vampire mocked. “What’s the matter, Rupert? Sorry you didn’t
bend him over your desk when you had the chance? While he was still all young
and fresh and in awe of you? I’m quite certain he would have loved playing the
naughty schoolboy for you. Would you have enjoyed taking a firm hand to his
sweet bottom or maybe one of those old fashioned wooden rulers?” the light
haired vampire sneered as the human blushed slightly at the description. Well
that’s interesting. Didn’t think the old boy had it in him.
"If you think that I will allow you to continue to use that
boy…" the middle-aged man began, overlooking his adversary’s taunt. His voice was breaking with barely
suppressed emotion.
"You have no choice. If you and your lot interfere, the
bargain that I made with the Powers will be forfeit. The orb will lose all
power and this world will be plunged into an eternal damnation worse than the
most horrific hell dimension in existence, or so I was told. My boy will be so
much better off then, knowing he gave up his freedom for nothing," the
blond spat back. He was beyond tired of his self-righteous countryman.
"He couldn't have known what he was getting himself
into…" Giles insisted. Didn't think much of the lad did he? Always did
overlook the boy. Well of course they all did, Spike reflected, including
himself.
"Of course he knew he
protected the chits from the Big Bad didn't he?" Spike snapped back. Even
he had to admit what the young man had done had taken a great deal of courage.
It was foolish, but probably one of the bravest and most giving things the
vampire had ever witnessed, if you went in for that sort of thing, which Spike
certainly did not. Not this vampire. Bugger. Next thing he knew he’d be asking
that poof Angel for fashion advice. He’d better watch himself before he started
prancing about or practicing his brooding.
"We’ll not stop searching for a way to get him out of this,
Spike. I promise you the moment we find a way to safely release him from this
bonding, you will be dust within the hour." Giles promised darkly. The
vampire knew this was no idle boast. Ripper wanted him dead, well dust, very
badly. The watcher had never liked the blond, but until now, Spike was fairly
certain that Rupert had never truly hated him. The shopkeeper had only
considered him a nuisance. That had all changed now. If not for what it might do to Xander, the vampire was reasonably
certain the middle-aged mortal would already have staked him.
"Fine, waste your time. Not like I care. The agreement I made
with the Powers is ironclad and irrevocable. The boy is mine. I can do whatever
I please with him and I do, Watcher,” the immortal creature leered.
“Does it help, Spike? Does it make you feel less impotent and
neutered to have him at your mercy? Do you forget for just a moment that you
have become so pathetic that not even the likes of Harmony wanted you? She
threw you out of her lair didn’t she? It’s rather sad that forcing Xander into
slavery is the only way you can find companionship. Really I’m sure there must
be some sort of monstrosity out there even lowlier than you willing to trade
up,” the mortal smirked viciously. How dare he?
“Shut the bloody hell up,” Spike snapped furiously.
“Maybe Drusilla foresaw everything. Perhaps that’s why she chose to
distance herself from you, didn’t want to go down with a sinking ship as it
were. Did that ever occur to you while you lay alone down in that cold dank
crypt of yours?” Giles asked coldly. Who knew the pompous windbag could be so
vicious? If things had been as they should be the vampire would have ripped the
bastard’s throat out. He’d have to settle for the old man’s heart.
“Wasn’t left alone that much to think about it was I? Crypt wasn’t
so cold when Buffy was warming my bed,” Spike replied smoothly. He hadn’t
supposed Buffy had rung up her precious watcher to let him in on their dirty
little secret. The children still wouldn’t know if he hadn’t blabbed everything
to Harris in a fit of rage. The revelation had about the same effect on the
older mortal as it had had on his boy. Spike thought for a moment he may
actually have succeeded in killing the troublesome middle aged human via
coronary.
The vampire realized he might have taken things a bit too far as he
felt the wood digging into his chest. “Shut your filthy lying mouth,” the livid
Englishman demanded. Wisdom would dictate that he should listen to the man
holding the very pointy piece of timber against his chest. No one had ever
accused the blond vampire of being wise.
“Truth hurts?” he smirked. “She was lost, poor thing, after those
idiots snatched her from paradise. Course maybe if they’d had some guidance
none of this would have happened. Maybe if you’d been watching them more
closely instead of wallowing in your own misery it might never have happened.
She would still be in Heaven where she belonged. She would never have sought me
out, hoping to feel again. Do you
know I was the first one she told? The only one who knew for the longest time,”
Spike confided. He could feel the other man shaking. The man didn’t want to
believe, but he did. Somehow he knew that the vampire was telling him the
absolute truth.
“So much for your unending devotion for her vampire,” the watcher
spat, as if the very idea that Spike had loved the Slayer more than his own
life was absurd to him.
“I was devoted to her. I got tossed of a bleeding tower for her and
the Bit. I stayed and looked after your lot after she was gone. I let her use
me for months, until she decided she’d had enough and could no longer sully
herself with me. Tried to move on, but that wasn’t my job. I was just supposed
to pine after her, while she got on with her life, just in case she changed her
mind and might have some use for me again,” the bitterness in the blond’s voice
surprised even him.
“And now you have the perfect way to pay her back. Is that it?”
Giles surmised. The mortal sounded old and tired to the immortal punk’s ears.
Spike was just a bit taken aback when he felt the pressure of the stake ease
from his chest ad saw the human quickly slide it back under the waist band of
his worn jeans.
“Now I don’t care what she thinks,” the vampire replied, sounding
petulant even to himself.
“Not even you believe that Spike. Do you honestly think hurting
Xander Harris is a just retaliation for the wrongs you believe Buffy as
committed against you?” Giles muttered, shaking his head as if speaking to a
simple child.
“Boy wasn’t my first choice, but he’ll do,” Spike retorted acidly.
If the daft do-gooder thought he was going to be guilted into giving the boy up
he was sadly mistaken. “I have not intention of permanently harming him mate.
Did he look like he was in pain to you? I’m bloody well enjoying myself for
once. Why would I risk putting an end to that? Not that I didn’t think about
hurting him at first.
“Was livid when I found out that my prize was going to end up being
that wanker, but I’ve adjusted. He’s alright. You and the slayer just stay the
bloody hell away from us and he’ll be right as rain.”
“He may not be in imminent physical danger, Spike, but Xander is
hardly alright. You’re isolating him from everyone he knows or cares for. He
will break eventually Spike. He’s not the one you’re angry at. He’s not the one
who hurt you. Does he deserve to be punished for the Slayer’s sins?” the former
librarian insisted.
“Just stay away from us and he’ll be fine Watcher,” Spike spat
getting tired of talking in circles. He wanted to get back to his wayward boy.
“Spike…” the watcher began.
“Try anything and I just might take him away, somewhere where I
don’t have to worry about your interference,” the blond growled. He’d been
prepared to let the sable haired mortal go on with his life for the most part,
minus his affiliation with the Slayer of course, but if the Scoobies were going
to be a hindrance he might have to reevaluate that plan. He didn’t particularly
want to do that. He was settled here in Sunnyhell. It had strictly nothing to
do with the fact that leaving here would devastate his new pet, none what so
ever. For some reason the blond vampire couldn’t seem to get the memory of his
plaything begging to be allowed to keep his first successful job as he’d laid a
helpless prisoner in his arms. Right before he’d promised Spike his full
obedience. The vow had lasted what? Two days.
“Ask yourself, watcher, if you really want Red messing with magics
as powerful as a binding spell sent directly from the very Powers must have
been. Any idea what messing with that spell may do to the boy? That is if
someone fooling with a spell attached to the orb of Kleidilnabur does rip apart
the fabric of the universe,” the vampire warned. The foolish watcher should
have known all this.
“Is this really what you want for yourself Spike? A lover who is
only with you, because he has no other alternative?” the mortal tried to reason
impatiently.
“He’s my slave not my lover,” Spike corrected quickly. The dark
haired mortal was a plaything nothing more.
“Yes, I suppose if it were the other way around, we wouldn’t be
having this discussion,” the mortal sighed.
“No you lot never seemed to mind having me at your beck and call,”
the immortal creature replied sarcastically, knowing full well that wasn’t the
other man’s meaning.
“We could have simply disposed of you, vampire, or returned you to
Maggie Walsh so you could resume your carrier as laboratory animal. You were
not treated all that badly. We kept you safe from the Initiative. We sheltered
and fed you. Even after you betrayed us we let you back into our lives. That
has proved to be a horrible mistake,” Giles smugly reminded him.
“Yeah, when you needed the extra muscle. How convenient was it to
know that I really didn’t have any other means of supporting myself? There’ll
be blood in it for you, Spike,” the vampire mimicked sardonically, in what
admittedly sounded more like an imitation of the golden haired Slayer than of
his fellow Englishman.
“Spike… Well it is true that we did benefit from your assistance
from time to time, it’s hardly as though we forced you. It’s not has though we
kept you chained in the cellar,” the mortal reasoned.
“No, just in the sodding bathtub,” the blond snapped back.
“That was only in the beginning. We weren’t sure how secure the
chip was. You know full well back then you were fully capable of setting the
bloody flat on fire with all of us trapped inside. Besides we let you go about
freely as soon as we determined you were no longer a threat. Do you really
think it was unreasonable for us to try to protect ourselves? You had spent the
last couple of years trying to kill us after all,” the human retorted, taking
his spectacles off for the inevitable polishing.
“I was under the distinct impression that you would… What was it?
Oh, yes, I remember now. Never care what I thought. Wasn’t it Watcher?” the
blond hissed out the other’s profession as if it were a curse.
“Spike… be that as it may. The issue here is Xander’s wellbeing. Do
you really expect us to stand by and do nothing?” Giles asked slightly
bewildered by the very idea.
Spike sighed. He distinctly remembered covering the subject, what with
all the "he’s mine" and "the agreement is irrevocable"
business. Some people just couldn’t be reasoned with.
“I’m done arguing about this with you. I’m going to go find my boy
now. Leave us the hell alone and he’ll be just fine,” the vampire warned turning
his back to the sputtering mortal and stomping off.
While the vampire may not have been capable of killing the
bothersome mortal at the moment, with demonic speed and stealth he was certainly
capable of evading him. That and he knew where he had parked. ‘Sides it’s not
like the Scoobies couldn’t track them down. They were living at the boy’s
apartment. A few careful inquiries and the old boy would know that. Hell, Buffy
could probably already beat the information out of that little twat Willy. News
traveled fast in this stupid little town.
Surprisingly enough, the argument with the watcher had allowed the
blond to cool down just a little. He was no longer afraid he’d inadvertently
harm his boy in a fit of rage. Telling the old stuffed shirt about his affair
with the Slayer had been very satisfying.
He had been taken aback by how quickly the older human had recovered
from the news. Spike had expected more denials and definitely more violence,
specifically directed at a certain devilishly handsome blond creature of the
night. Once Rupert Giles had processed the information and gotten over the
initial shock he’d seemed to file it away for future reference and moved on to
Xander’s situation. It’s not fair making the boy pay for Buffy’s mistakes, bla
bla.
It’s not as though he’d harmed the young man. Initiated him to the
secrets of buggering yes, but all in all he’d been fairly gentle. He could be
brutalizing his pet, buggering him dry every night. Instead he’d gentled and
caressed the mortal. The boy’s worst complaint so far would be a bruised bottom
and some sexual frustration. He had to admit the brunet was beautiful
frustrated. If it were another time and place, he’d never let the beauty out of
bed. Bollox, if things were different, Spike knew damn well his lovely pet
would already be dead. Under normal circumstances he never would have taken a
human male to his bed. Well the bloke in question, certainly wouldn’t have
enjoyed or even have lived through the experience. He didn’t have the tastes
his poofy sire did, but on rare occasions when he’d wanted a particularly
objectionable morsel to suffer, he’d indulged. They didn’t seem so uppity when
they realized what was about to befall them. He remembered a couple of them
begging for their deaths. He didn’t dwell on the fact that it was mostly
arrogant pricks that reminded him of the ones that had tormented William his
entire mortal life that he chose to hurt that way.
Those times had never been about sex, not really. Neither, he
supposed, were the times he’d been on the receiving end with Angelus. That had
been about power, about putting a young pup in his place, more often than not
it the middle of the parlor floor with Drusilla and Darla looking on. Worse,
though, had been the times when Angelus had taken him more gently making sure
he came shuddering all over the sheet. The dark vampire took pleasure
describing it in great detail to his women, how their little William had spent
all over the bedding from a good buggering. He was writhing under me like a
little bitch in heat, my darlin, you should’ a seen the little whore.
Now that he’d had the boy, he finally understood he’d been denying
himself for years because of his tosser of a grandsire, too afraid that he’d
become exactly what Angelus had described. No longer, he’d been given a gift
and he had every intention of enjoying it. Besides the boy seem to be growing
to like it. Half of the time he though the boy objected more out of general principle
than because he genuinely didn’t like the games they played. Spike refused to
listen to the tiny grand-poof shaped voice in his mind that kept reminding him
that what he was doing to the mortal was no better than what the great
magnificent ponce had put him through. Bollox, he’d never hurt the mortal and
had no intention of doing so. The blond wasn’t stupid enough to kill the goose
that laid the golden egg as it were. Beside it’s not like he’d kidnapped the
whelp. The brunet had come to him. He’d made the decision to serve Spike rather
than let one of the other Scoobies do it of his own free will. Besides, the boy
was born for this.
The vampire wondered what the boy would have done if this bargain
hadn’t happened. The mortal had a submissive streak a mile wide. Spike
seriously doubted he would have been satisfied for long in a conventional
relationship. The dark haired boy obviously liked being dominated. Viewed in
that light, he was almost being altruistic; Spike reflected making his way to
the junk heap the brunet called a car.
His pet was sitting inside huddled on the passenger seat looking
completely pathetic. The mortal was staring forlornly out the window, looking
for what the vampire couldn’t say. Silently Spike opened the driver’s side door
and slid into the seat beside his boy.
“Ready to head home, Kitten?” the vampire asked, reaching over a
laying a hand on the boy’s denim clad thigh, rubbing slow circles towards the
human’s groin.
“Yes Master,” the brunet just nodded, not even turning to look at
the vampire.
“Kitten,” Spike sighed. He would not be ignored. His initial anger
may have receded, but the boy still had a punishment coming for brazenly
disobeying his command when they were in the store. The brunet’s present
attitude was doing nothing to help his case.
“Master?” the boy asked still refusing to turn in his direction.
“Look at me, pet,” Spike ordered.
The mortal hesitated briefly, but finally turned towards his owner. As
the vampire gazed into the mortal’s flat, emotionless eyes, it was hard to put
the watcher’s earlier warning about the boy’s mental state out of his mind.
Cupping the mortal’s chin, the blond ran his thumb gently along his boy’s
bottom lip. “Who do you belong to?”
“To you, Master, I’m yours,” his slave answered quietly. The
vampire moved the hand that been petting his boy’s thigh to rub his pet’s now
half hard cock through his trousers.
“You do realize that your behavior in there was unacceptable, don’t
you?” the vampire asked, stroking the boy with just a little bit more
determination.
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry. I couldn’t… I’m sorry. I promise it won’t
happen again,” the mortal whispered, his voice a strange mix of wistfulness and
arousal.
“Don’t, let me hear you, Kitten,” he smiled as the mortal started biting
his lip to prevent a gasp for escaping. Spike’s grin brightened when he heard
the mortal moan. Quickly releasing his boy, the vampire reached around his pet
buckling him in, leaving the human’s arms trapped under the belt. He started
the old car and quickly pulled out of the shopping center’s parking lot. After
guiding the car back to the open road, the vampire returned his hand to its
earlier location, cupping the slayerette’s rigid sex.
“Grind yourself against me. Rub up against my hand, Kitten. That’s
right, precious, make yourself feel good. Show me how much you love to be
touched,” the vampire ordered. Spike smile as the dark haired young man obeyed;
pumping his hips rhythmically to maintain the wonderful friction he was
feeling. The blond could feel the
boy’s aching hardness outlined by the denim he was fondling slowly.
“So hard for me, Filled to bursting I’d wager you are. I did
promise I’d consider letting you come tonight if you were a good boy. Do you
think you deserve that? Do you think you earned the pleasure of release?” the
blond asked seriously as he continued to massage his slave’s erection through
the well worn pale blue fabric. He watched the boy’s hips move steadily as he
thrust himself into his master’s waiting hand.
“No, Master. I’m sorry,” Xander whispered, softly gasping.
“That’s a good boy. Now, Kitten, I want you to continue rubbing
against me hand until we get home. If you stop for any reason, I’ll punish you.
Well, above what you’ve already earned yourself. Remember, you’ll also be
punished if you come without permission, so if I were you I’d practice my self
control,” the vampire warned, although he suspected the mortal would not
generate nearly enough friction to get himself into serious trouble. A vampire
can always hope, Spike thought, smiling as he drove them home.