| Beloved Slave By Shiver |
| Pairing: Spike/Xander (sort of), Willow/Buffy (again, sort of), Spike/Xander/Willow/Buffy, Spike/Angel (vaguely implied), Spike/others Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: None. AU set in the far future. Disclaimer: They don�t belong to me. Distribution: Just let me know where. Summary: A response to Ver�nica�s Belly-Dancing Challenge issued, oh, about eight months ago. I�ve been working on it off and on since then, but just had time to finish and edit recently, and when I was doing the final edit, Andrea poster part three of her response, �Silk,� so I guess the cosmic muse was zapping us both at once. Anyway, to refresh your memory, here were the terms- -This is very, *very* AU. S/X, obviously. NC-17, obviously. -Spike (or a Spike likeness) is a sort of (vampire?) rajah. Something oriental. Something Middle Ages, maybe. Xander (idem) is his favorite slave. -I'm thinking huge amounts of sensuality. -I'm thinking Xander was an orphan at a very young age (son of a defeated enemy, perhaps?), part of war spoils. I'm thinking Spike took him to his palace, to be raised and become his sex-toy when older. -I'm thinking lots of silk, gauze and other pretty materials. Cushions and other soft surfaces to lean on. -I'm thinking Xander grows to adore his Master, because Master is his whole world. I'm thinking he is very eager to learn every possible way to please his Master. -I'm thinking of Xander, feeding his Master fruit dipped in chocolate (and blood?). I'm thinking of Spike, feeding Xander back. -I'm thinking of a very young, naive, Xander. Teen. Maybe Season 2 or 3-ish in looks. Tousled longish hair (as in late Season 5), huge eyes. -I'm thinking belly-dancing, seven veils and all. -I'm thinking Xander thinks his Master's dead, for some reason, and goes frantic (hurting himself, etc). I'm thinking Spike's reappearance is the only way to calm him. -I'm thinking absolute devotion, worship, passion, love, mushiness. -I'm thinking Spike finds out his slave has grown to be his favorite, his companion. I'm thinking he might want to make him his childe, if fangy Spike. -I'm thinking other slaves might be jealous of this favoritism. -I'm thinking blood play, but no scars, or only one. -I'm thinking way too much, when I have to go to work in 15 mins. I got about 80-90% of it in, I reckon. Not beta�ed, all errors are mine. Hope you all enjoy. Feedback is most appreciated. ******************* From without, the castle and fortress that served as the seat of power for Lord Spike, undisputed Master of Oregonia, appeared to be carved from one solid block of black ice. Smooth and polished to a finish as reflective as glass, and soaring forty stories into the sky, the human vassals and bonded minions who served their Master in the surrounding lands would repeat the whispered rumors of the horrors contained within. Rumors that were anything but true. Oh, there were dungeons and torture chambers, to be sure, but most of Castle Fireflite (named, it was said, after something significant in Lord Spike�s past) was filled with offices and schools and living quarters, a small city from which the administration of the government of Oregonia was conducted. The peasants would be bitterly disappointed to learn the truth, no doubt. The top floors of the tallest tower were taken up with the living quarters of Lord Spike himself. They were beautifully appointed, filled with beds and cushions and drapes. The most beautiful mortals in all the land served him hand and foot. Some wore costumes that were beaded and embroidered. Some stood in golden chains and shackles. And some wore nothing but their own flawless skins. Devoted minions from every province were always on the lookout for perfectly-formed children to be delivered to the castle in the blossoming of their adulthood as tribute, and these youths were trained as faithful slaves, serving until their beauty crested, at which point they were turned, preserving their perfection forever, and sent out to positions of power themselves. Still, they always spoke of their days in the castle with wistful longing, the days full of devotion, passion, and love. And unlike other vampire Masters, Lord Spike himself was a benevolent ruler. Not weak, by any measure, but he had no patience for the endless feuds, the tribal quarrels and petty warfare. He defended his borders, saw that his people were treated fairly and were well-provided for and enjoyed a measure of safety, but Spike saw the Shadow-times as vampire paradise, and he intended to savor them. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Shadow-times had come upon the earth slowly as human time is measured, nearly five centuries after the first factory belched smoke into the air, sending the first bits of soot high into the atmosphere, until at last the planet was enveloped in a shroud of polluting particles so thick that now the sun was a dying memory. But five centuries is but an eye blink to immortals, and they saw their time, a time when the humans� most valuable weapon would be taken from them, was coming, and they prepared. As that last twilight grew longer and longer, and dawn became a promise that would remain unfulfilled, they rose up, took power, and divided up the land among themselves. It was Lord Spike and his Sire, Lord Angelus, who had been instrumental in negotiations between the ruling vampires and the remaining humans, fighting for the mortals� current protected status. Their foresight proved wise, as it seemed in the passing years that humans were the key to technological innovation and advance, vampires having lost all interest in such mundane matters. And so it was that just after the coming of the Shadow-times synthetic blood was developed and the society they knew now, a structure that had endured two centuries, came into being. The earth was divided into 100 countries, each ruled by a vampire Master. Lord Spike took Oregonia, what was once Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and parts of Western Canada. Lord Angelus took Joshua, which had been California, Nevada, and some of the lands to the east. Lord Spike had his castle constructed overlooking the wild coast, and had settled into an existence of hedonistic pleasure and benevolent absolute rule. It suited him well. Still, there was something missing, something the early-21st-century humans would have called �closure.� So Spike cleared a wing of Castle Fireflite, had state-of-the-art laboratories installed, brought the top scientists from every corner of Oregonia, and set them to their task. It took them 23 years, a mere instant to a Master vampire. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ �We have attained an unqualified success, Lord Spike,� the chief researcher announced, bowing low before the royal dais. �Just as you wished, so it has been done.� Spike raised himself onto one elbow from where he reclined on a velvet couch. �How many?� he said. �Nine girls, seven boys,� the scientist said. �And there is no genetic degradation?� �None,� the researcher assured him. �We waited until their second birthday to inform, just so we could be certain.� Spike rose abruptly to his feet, and the slaves surrounding him stood as well to dress him in his robes. �Show me,� the vampire said, and he was led down to the labs. The main room in the lab had been converted into a nursery where nine dark-haired little girls, all identical, and seven tow-headed little boys, equally the same, played together. �You�re certain the genetic material was of similar age?� Spike asked. �Yes, we used historical samples,� the chief researcher explained. �From hair bracelets woven in the 1800s.� �And they appear normal in all ways?� �Perfectly normal. Just sixteen perfect little toddlers.� Spike nodded, a smile creeping into his expression. �Have them taken to the harem,� he said. �I want them raised to serve me. And you, continue your research and monitor the children. Let me know when they turn fifteen. If I am satisfied with the project, we will begin with the next phase.� �Yes, my Lord,� the scientist said. �I will keep you informed of my progress.� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The next decade or so seemed to pass slowly for the Master of Oregonia. He visited his children often, and they learned to both fear and adore him. He was pleased with their development, as well. They were healthy, attractive, and intelligent, and Spike took great delight in watching them grow. When they turned fifteen he brought them all to his living quarters to serve him as body slaves. They worshiped him, lavishing their devotion upon him, and in turn he reveled in their beauty and obedience. When they turned sixteen he took their innocence, one after the other, beginning a year in which they served his every sexual desire. It seemed as though not a waking hour passed in all that year where one of them did not have a soft, warm mouth wrapped around their Master�s cock. On the day they turned eighteen, Spike took one of the children, a girl named Alice whom he thought of as the oldest, into his private bed-chamber. It was time for the final test of the project, and the Master vampire was nervous. He sank onto his canopied bed, trying to look relaxed, and bade the girl strip off her fine silk garments. She obeyed at once, as she had been trained, dropping her sheer gown into a pile at her feet. Her skin, untouched by sunlight, was creamy pale, smooth and unblemished. Under her Master�s gaze a pink flush came to her face and breasts, and Spike felt a wave of lust. He beckoned to her and she joined him in the bed, opening herself to him. Gently, he draped himself across her body, then pierced her throat with his fangs. He sucked at the hot liquid until her struggles eased and she grew still, and then he slashed his own breast and pressed her now pale and bloodless lips to the wound, feeling the ecstasy as she repeated the action of feeding from him. And then she died, falling to the bed as limply as a wilted flower. Spike arranged her limbs into a comfortable position, draped her in a satin duvet, and waited. While she lay in the sleeping death of the turned but unrisen, witches were summoned to secure her soul, preserving her conscience as eternally as her beauty. When she rose, her skin was even more pale, but there was vivid color high on her cheeks and in her lips, and her eyes glittered like polished stones. Spike took her twice, brutally, as a vampire is wont, and she screamed his name in passion. Afterwards, she was as obedient as ever, as perfect a vampire as she had been a human. Her Master was very pleased. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Spike turned and dispersed the rest of the children to the regional governors who kept order in every province of Oregonia. He was ready to begin the next phase of the project, and wished to begin fresh and anew. He took six months to select the most healthy and beautiful of his female servants. The next phase were special, the culmination of half a century of research, and they were not to be decanted in jars, as the first batch had been; they would be carried by his most favored slaves. At last the preparations were in order, and Spike removed a sealed box from his most secret private vaults. He opened it, breaking the seal that had been in place for centuries and sat staring at the contents for a very long time. Then he carried it carefully, reverentially, to the labs. The chief researcher examined the items within: three locks of hair, tied with ribbon, one blonde, one red, one brunette. �And you only wish one child to be extrapolated from each sample?� he said, disbelieving. Spike assured him this was, in fact, the case. �Who were they?� the scientist asked. It was on the tip of Spike�s tongue to snap, �none of your business,� but Spike remembered this man was as loyal as any of the pliant young slaves above. �My most enduring enemies,� the vampire said. �My most hated allies. I was their servant, their pet, their plaything, their untrusted comrade. I was an object of their scorn, and yet I always returned to them, like a faithful dog. They made me mad, and even now, when they are dust, I am a slave to their memory.� The researcher nodded. �And these children that will be their likeness? What will you do with them?� Spike gave a wolfish smile. �They will be my servants, my pets, my playthings. They will crawl for me.� The researched nodded again. He had served the vampires a long time, and he understood their ways. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The three �mothers� were moved into beautifully appointed quarters adjacent to Spike�s own, and given their own nurses and servants. The vampire visited them often, watching with pride as their bellies swelled. He brought them fine gifts and promised powerful positions when their work was done. The first went into labor at an hour when most of the household slept, then screamed with agony for almost two days as the child fought her way out. �This one is to be called �Buffy,�� Spike informed her as he laid the squalling child in her exhausted mother�s arms. The second felt the first pangs of labor six days later, just after tea. She pushed and grunted, expending her energy in controlled bursts, like a sprinter, and a mere three hours later another girl was brought into the world. �Her name is �Willow,�� Spike declared. The third did not feel the birth pangs like the others, but was instead found the next day unconscious on the flagstones of one of the palace courtyards, lying in a pool of amniotic fluid and blood. A surgeon was summoned at once. Spike paced restlessly in the hall, waiting to hear the baby�s cry as they cut him out of his mother�s womb, but there was nothing. An hour later the surgeon came to him, still splattered with blood. �There was nothing we could do,� he said. �The woman could not be saved.� �Who cares about her?� Spike snapped. �What about the baby?� �He�s within,� the surgeon said. �The nurses are caring for him.� Spike pushed past him and found one of the nurses cleaning the infant boy. He made no protest, as babies usually do, only lay still and let her. The nurse, who had attended the previous births, addressed the vampire. �And what is his name to be?� �Xander,� Spike told her. �His name is Xander.� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The three children, like their clone predecessors, were taken to be raised in the harem, although Spike saw that they were given the best possible educations, and the best of everything else. He visited only rarely, preferring to be seen as a remote figure of awe and foreboding, to wait until their beauty had blossomed. Sometimes just the thought of that future day, when he would humiliate them all, would drive him to utter distraction. He kept lists of the tasks he would force them to perform, the degradations they would endure. Soon these lists filled an entire volume. Then, after the longest fifteen years of his entire long existence, he sent the clothes he�d had especially made down to the harem, and summoned the three of them to his chamber. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ They came before him, glittering visions in silk and beads. The girls held each others� hands, and Willow worried her bottom lip with her teeth. All three were trembling. They are perfect, Spike thought, waving his hand to beckon them closer. �Kneel before me,� Spike commanded, and the three clones fell instantly to their knees, extended themselves down, prostrate on the sumptuously carpeted floor. Spike smirked in anticipation as he released his already straining cock and teased his fingers over it delicately. �Buffy,� he said, and the blonde head raised to regard him with wide, blue eyes. �Come suck me off,� he said, making the order sound as crude as possible. Buffy gave a nervous glance to her companions then approached Spike. She smiled coyly, then sank her mouth over his cock until her lips brushed the curls at the base. Spike yelped, more from surprise than passion. He had not expected her to comply so quickly, nor so� knowledgably. �Stop,� he said, and she pulled away, her delicate mouth drawn in a moue of disappointment. �Was that not as you desired, Master?� she said. �Shall I vary my technique?� �No!� Spike said. �I mean�� His eyes narrowed. �Take off your clothes.� He gestured to the others. �You, too. Remove your clothes. Slowly.� Perhaps being without those fine clothes will add to their humiliation, Spike thought, but as they undid ties and clasps, touching their firm bodies with practiced fingers, it was slowly dawning on the vampire that something had gone wrong with his plan. These beings had no shame to feel. He pointed to the boy, always the proudest of them. �You,� he said. �Down on all fours and bark like a dog.� With a giggle, the boy lowered himself to the ground. �Woof, woof,� he said, then scurried forward on hands and knees. �Shall I lick your face now, Master?� he said. �Shall I wag my tail for you?� And Spike burst out laughing. His carefully made plans had come to nothing. These were not the children he had known. They were exactly as he had made them, as he had made every human mortal in his kingdom: obedient, pliant, adoring. And all at once the weight he had carried all those centuries fell away. The originals, the humans he�d remembered, were long dead. What they�d fought for, a world without demons, was a distant dream. And now their doppelgangers had grown up in blissful ignorance that it had ever been other than it now was. He need prove himself to no one. Spike reached for a ewer of sweet-scented oil and drizzled it over his fingers to coat his aching erection. �Come up here, boy,� he growled, �and ride me like the slut you are.� A look very like rapture passed over Xander�s face. �Oh, yes, Master,� he cried, quickly straddling the vampire and taking Spike�s cock into his body with a shuddering cry. Spike groaned as he felt himself enveloped by the warm flesh. It was always better with boys. Xander had taken Spike in facing away from the vampire, and now he steadied himself by grasping Spike�s thighs gently. Slowly he began to raise and lower himself, and Spike clutched at the boy�s hips in barely-controlled passion. �Buffy! Willow!� Xander said sotto-voce. �Make sport to please our Master.� Spike watched in delighted amazement as the two girls fell hungrily on one another, kissing and caressing all over before tangling their limbs together and collapsing against a pile of silk cushions, laughing. Spike thrust up into the boy, grinning as each stab of movement elicited a groan of lust. He felt the boy�s inner walls contract around him, and he came into Xander�s body with a shudder. A moment later, Xander climaxed, and Spike realized with no small amount of satisfaction that he had done so without being touched at all. The two girls, their fingers now embedded within one another�s sex, came themselves a few minutes later and rolled away from each other with contented sighs. Spike lifted the boy from his lap, and shivered slightly as his cock slipped free of the surrounding heat. Xander slid limply to the floor and gazed adoringly up at the vampire through his dark eyelashes. �Please, Master,� he said, his voice a trifle hoarse from the previous exertion, �allow me to lick you clean.� Spike�s cock twitched, his preternatural recovery making him hard again, even as the girls scurried forward, crying, �no! Let me!� Spike fell back, laughing, his arms spread. �Have at me, then,� he said. �There�s plenty to go around.� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Spike spent the next few months in a bliss he hadn�t imagined possible. This was so much better than his plans of humiliation; this worship, this� love. Each day was a haze of sex and devotion, and each night he fell asleep in a warm, soft pile of flesh. It was no secret Xander was his favorite. Even away from his chambers attending to affairs of state the boy was never more than an arm�s-length away, sometimes even curled in his Master�s lap, playing with a lock of yellow hair as the vampire conducted his business. The girls, of course, had one another, so their less-frequent �sport� with Xander or their Master raised no jealousy, which was just as well. Spike had dealt with petty squabbles between slaves on the past, and he always ended up wanting to snap the necks of all involved. But Xander� Perhaps it was because he had literally been born to this service, but Spike never felt more at home than he did in the boy�s arms, kissing his lips to swollen fullness as Buffy and Willow caressed their limbs. He never felt more satisfied than when they were sprawled, sated, on his enormous bed. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ One night, in their curtained bed, cushioned by pillows and blankets and in such deep darkness they might still be in the womb, Spike and Xander lay spooned together. They had just made love, and Spike�s softening cock still rested inside Xander�s body. The vampire carded his long fingers through Xander�s shaggy hair, twisting the brown locks together and humming softly, contentedly, an ancient song. It was a night like many nights before, and Spike expected they would soon drift into sleep, and wake to yet another day spent in physical passion, except this time Xander murmured, �I love you, Master.� Spike jolted awake. �What did you say?� Xander turned to look over his shoulder from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, careful not to dislodge Spike from him. �I love you, Master,� he said more clearly. �Please don�t think me over-bold, but you are everything to me.� �Xander,� Spike said in a carefully reasoned tone. �You do know what I am, don�t you?� �Of course,� Xander giggled. �You�re my darling.� He giggled again at Spike�s frown, then said more seriously, �and I know you�re a vampire. But you make me feel safe and happy, and I love you.� Spike didn�t move or speak for several long moments. In all his many centuries of existence, no one had ever said �I love you� to him in such a simple, straightforward way. Even Dru had said it with a wink and a nod, as though she knew it was only what he wanted to hear. But this boy� this boy had touched him so deeply with his plain, heartfelt declaration that Spike was quite undone. Spike began stroking Xander�s hair again, only one last question on his mind. �And how do you feel knowing I am going to turn you,� he said, �and make you like me?� Xander�s voice, when he spoke, was think with emotion. �I didn�t dare to hope for that, Master. To be with you, loving you, forever? To have you as my Sire? That would be heaven to me.� Spike blinked several times, trying to banish the tears from his eyes. �Yes,� he said. �Mine forever.� �Forever,� Xander repeated sleepily, then he snuggled back against Spike and was asleep. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Spike played the conversation over and over in his mind, sleep evading him, even as Xander slept soundly in his arms. He loved him. Xander loved him. Xander loved Spike. Loved him truly and deeply and with all his human heart. Spike could feel tears begin to prick his eyes, and he blinked, trying to will them away but spilling them onto his cheeks instead. In his sleep, Xander squeezed Spike�s hand, an unconscious gesture of comfort, and Spike patted the boy. How strange this is, Spike thought. I had hoped to rid myself of the ghosts of the past through pain and humiliation, but they have been driven out by love, instead. And it only took about five hundred years. The vast power of this moment kept Spike awake the rest of the night, inhaling the strong, warm scent of his boy, which had become, in his mind, the scent of love. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ It would have gone this way for years, maybe longer, if word had not passed of Lord Spike�s new favorites. Spike was relaxing in his garden, making no movement other than the slightest tilt of his head as his boy fed him sweet, long-stemmed berries, dipped first in chocolate, then in blood. Nearby his girls were feeding the swans that swam serenely in his fountain. All at once, a servant entered, babbling, �I tried to stop him, my Lord. I told him he hadn�t been announced�� Spike raised himself on one elbow to find Angel, his Sire, glowering down at him. Spike glared back, even as he became aware that the children were moving to position themselves so that he was between them and this new vampire. �What do you want?� Spike said sullenly. �So, it�s true,� Angel said. �You actually went through with this� abomination.� Spike gave a look halfway between a smug smile and a sneer. �They aren�t abominations to me,� he said. �In fact, they�re rather nice.� �You..,� Angel growled, but Spike cut him off. �Perfectly agreeable little playthings,� Spike nearly purred. �Buffy! Tell our guest what�s your favorite way to �make sport� with me.� �I crave your touch in every way, Master,� Buffy said coquettishly. �But I most enjoy it when you take me in the ass.� Spike laughed at Angel�s horrified expression. �Would you lay with our guest, Buffy?� he asked. �If it were my will?� Buffy lowered her eyes. �Only if it pleases you, Master,� she murmured. �What do you say, Angelus?� Spike cajoled. �I�m sure she�s just as you remember her.� �You�ve made them into your whores,� Angel accused. �This world made them what they are,� Spike shot back. �The world we created. They may look as you remember them, but they�re not those children. They were born slaves in a world ruled by vampires; how could they be?� �It�s wrong,� Angel declared. �I can�t bear to see them so� reduced.� �Then get over yourself,� Spike said, reclining on his couch once again. �We�re done here. The minions will show you out.� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ If Spike gave his Sire�s visit any further thought, it was only to recall, with amusement, the look of shock on Angel�s face as the image of his precious love had spoken like a common tart. Otherwise, he went back to his usual routine, as the object of worship for his slaves. But Angel did not forget. The wanton debauchery he saw in his Spike�s garden gnawed at him, driving him to a kind of insanity. He couldn�t eat, he barely slept, and he felt as though he would go completely mad if he couldn�t find some way to rescue those precious children from that unnatural fiend. So he began a process he swore he never would, the process of gathering an army to invade Spike�s stronghold, and take the clones by force if he had to. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ When Angel next visited Castle Fireflite, he forced himself to wait patiently through the niceties of being presented and announced. He was led to Spike�s court-chamber, where the blond vampire sat in a formal throne. Buffy, Willow, and Xander were nowhere to be seen, though Angel sensed they had left not long before. �What do you want?� Spike said without preamble. �You know what I want,� Angel said. �You�re not getting them,� Spike said firmly. �This isn�t a discussion,� Angel said. �They are coming with me.� �Over my dead body.� �If that�s what it takes,� Angel said, low and threatening. �My army is massed along your borders, and we will invade you and take them by force if we must.� �You wouldn�t�� �You know I would,� Angel said. �You would bring unrest here?� Spike asked reasonably. �After all these years?� Angel�s stony silence was all the answer Spike needed. The younger vampire leaned back in his throne and regarded his Sire for a very long time. He knew Angel would do it. �You can have the girls,� he said. �No argument, free and clear. But leave the boy for me.� �This is not open for negotiation, Spike. I am taking all of them, either by your leave or by force. But all of them are coming.� Spike�s imperious fa�ade seemed to dissolve, and he leaned forward, pleading. �Please don�t take him, Angelus. Please. He isn�t the Xander you remember. He looks the same, but he�� Spike was choked with emotion. �All of them, Spike.� Spike crumpled, cowed. �But he�s my darling,� he said quietly. Angel ignored Spike�s words. �Where are they?� Spike covered his face with his hands. �In the gardens,� he said. �Please� at least let me say goodbye to them.� �No, I don�t think that�s a good idea.� �You heartless bastard!� Spike spat. �Don�t blame me for this,� Angel said. �You know this was an abomination.� Spike made one final bid. �Please don�t take Xander,� he begged. �You know I would never hurt him. Please�� But in a swirl of his velvet cape, Angel was gone. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The three young clones regarded Angel�s guard, as well as the vampire himself, as hostile abductors, knowing the only way their Master would give them up was if he was no longer able to protect them. The girls went with stoic dignity, having learned at a young age that they were property, and therefore might be sold, stolen, or bartered. Xander, on the other hand, was inconsolable. When told he was to leave with Lord Angelus, and that he couldn�t see his Master again, the youth fell to the round in his grief. He wept during the whole long journey from Oregonia to Joshua, convinced Spike was dust. Spike was similarly distraught. Even his long-time minions and functionaries had never seen him in such a state. He tore his beautiful curtains and tapestries from the walls, and ripped his sumptuous stuffed furniture to shreds. He howled and raged his grief from the castle�s tallest battlements, and would see no one, not even his slaves. In Joshua, Angel told the three clones they were free, and anything they wished would be given to them. Xander immediately asked to be returned to Oregonia, and his Master. Angel�s face grew dark and his voice strained to contain his obvious anger as he qualified that the youths could have anything but that. Without further request, Xander went to the rooms that were given to him, sitting alone and bereft. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ After three weeks without communication from their Lord, the courtiers and attaches pressed Spike�s second-in-command, a vampire named Martin, to �do something� about their Master�s paralyzing sadness. Steeling his courage, Martin knocked on the door to Spike�s chambers. �Go away!� came the voice from within. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Martin answered, �I can�t do that, my Lord. There are affairs of state which need your attention.� There was a prolonged silence, until Martin called again, �My Lord?� �Come in then,� Spike replied with a heavy sigh. The rooms were an utter shambles, with not a decoration or a stick of furniture left in one piece. �I apologize for disturbing you, My Lord,� Martin said, �but as I said, there is business of the Kingdom�� Spike, standing in the shadowed alcove, interrupted. �There is only one business I care about,� he said. �My beloved Xander has been taken from me, and I will know no peace until we are reunited, or I am dust.� �Please don�t talk that way, my Lord,� Martin soothed. �There will be other slaves�� Spike charged forward, shoving Martin back. �I don�t want other slaves,� he shouted. �I want my boy. I cannot sleep not knowing if he�s safe, and happy� I�m going to go mad, Martin.� �Please, my Lord, calm yourself,� Martin said evenly. (It was this calm in the face of chaos that made him Spike�s most trusted retainer.) �If you wish to know how your captured slaves are faring, steps can be taken.� Spike released the other vampire and narrowed his eyes. �What steps?� �Well� the simplest thing to do would be to send some of our spies into Joshua, I think. We�ve never had to before, given your generally good relations with Lord Angelus (until recently of course),� Martin said, �but getting someone into his castle should be simplicity itself.� A light seemed to come back to Spike�s expression. �Do it, Martin, as soon as you can.� He took the younger vampire�s arm. �Now tell me,� he said. �What issues require my counsel?� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Oregonia spies were soon in place at Angelus�s stronghold, where they watched and listened. All at the castle knew of the clones, knew how Lord Angelus fretted over them, how he wished their happiness, yet seemed to have expectations about them they could not match, which brought him great distress. Angelus brought them fine robes and gowns; they preferred their simpler garments. He had meals served; they ate little. He spoke to them of the past as though they would remember; they stayed silent. Although they all had their own chambers, they never spent time alone, coming together in one room or another, and sleeping in one large bed. The servants, gossiping, told the spies that the girls took care of each other, but the boy could not seem to shake his grief. He never smiled, wept when he thought no one could see, and word had gone around to never leave anything sharp where he could get at it. Dutifully, the spies passed the news to Oregonia. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Spike crushed the communiqu� in his hands, pressing the paper smaller and smaller into a tiny ball. His expression was so black and murderous that all save Martin had fled his presence, and the vampire advisor had retreated to the furthest corner of the throne room. �My boy,� Spike growled through gritted teeth. �My boy is in pain. And it�s Angelus�s pride that keeps me from him.� He flung the wad of paper at a lamp, knocking it to the stone floor, where it shattered. �My Lord, please,� Martin said calmly. �And the bastard knows I won�t lead my country into war with him,� Spike ranted, leaping to his feet and smashing his fists down on a nearby table, breaking it into pieces. �How could he do this to me, Martin? After all we�ve been to one another.� �Please, my Lord, if I may,� Martin began again. �I have been at work on the matter.� Spike paused in the middle of a swing towards another antique, then returned to his throne and sank down. �Go on,� he said. �There�s a very old saying, my Lord,� Martin said. �One may catch more flies with honey than with vinegar�� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The next week, Lord Angelus received a caravan with truck after truck full of packages, gifts from the sovereign of Oregonia: Fruits and vegetables from the hyponic farms, sweets and baked goods, beautiful furniture and fine art, jewelry and exquisite clothing. Each of the clones received a chest of clothes and a hamper of delicacies. Included was a letter from Lord Spike to his Sire: My Dearest Angelus- I do not wish to quarrel with you, nor do I wish any enmity between us. It is not good for us, nor for our countries. Accept these gifts for you, your court, and my dear ones, Buffy, Willow, and especially Xander. I hope you will tell them they are from me, and that I miss them and hope they are well, but I will try to understand if you don�t. Are they well, Angelus? Please tell me, if only in memory of better times. Your Childe- Spike, Lord of Oregonia Angel read and re-read the letter, trying to figure out Spike�s angle, the game he was playing. He didn�t reply, he did not give Spike�s gifts to the clones, and most of the crates went unopened. One week later, another shipment of gifts arrived, this time accompanied by several beautiful youths. They entered Angelus�s throne room, and bowed low. One among them presented Angel with another letter. It read: My Dearest Angelus- Please do not keep silence between us, I am asking as both your childe and political ally. Accept these gifts I have sent you, including a dozen of my most beautiful and obedient slaves, as a sign of my friendship for you. If our personal friendship is to be broken, at least accept them as a sign of continued amity between our nations and a felicitous diplomatic relationship. And if you can, please tell me how it goes with my dear ones. If nothing else, send me word of them. I remain your childe- Spike Angel, knowing Spike�s persistence, and that he would get no relief from letters and gifts from the north without a proper response, called for a pen and paper and wrote the following. Spike- I�m not ready to discuss the clones with you; I may not ever be. But I, too, have no wish to fight with you, so--- Buffy, Willow, and Xander are well. They have every luxury available to them and are free of any expectations from anyone. They are happy and safe. Stop sending gifts. We have everything we could possibly need. Your Sire (and don�t forget it)- Angel ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ �What do you think?� Spike asked Martin as they studied the short missive from Angel. �I think he may be softening up,� Martin said. �But we can�t send gifts,� Spike said. �Now what?� Martin, who was pleased that his latest ploy had sufficiently engaged his Lord�s mind to drag him from his black mood, said, �is it not nearly the young ones� sixteenth birthdays? Should you not, as a neighboring sovereign, send birthday presents?� �He said no gifts,� Spike protested. �I think,� Martin said, �that knowing what I know of him, he will feel so bad about not having known the children�s birthdays that he�ll allow it.� Spike leaned forward. �It�s time to make our move, then,� he said. Martin nodded. �I think so,� he said, then his expression clouded. �Are you absolutely certain about this, Sire?� he asked. �For my boy, anything,� Spike said, then added in a more reassuring tone, �it will be alright, Martin. If this works, it can only strengthen the alliance between our countries. And if it doesn�t, what have I lost? A little dignity, is all.� He gave a small grin. �It hasn�t killed me yet.� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Angel received Spike�s messenger, a cunning-looking vampire named Martin, who explained that he had escorted gifts and entertainers from Oregonia for the birthdays of Buffy, Willow, and Xander, which were that very week. Angel regarded the assembled visitors, which included dancers, jugglers, and trained animals, dubiously, and yet he thought that a birthday celebration might be just the thing to bring the children out of their sad mood. Still, he not about to let this small army of performers near the clones without assuring himself they were not an actual small army sent by Spike to abduct them. Martin, all deference and charm, ordered the gifts exhibited for Lord Angelus�s inspection. The vampire Lord examined box after box of clothing, jewelry, games, toys, and furniture, musing idly that he might have to add another wing to the castle to accommodate it all. That completed, the performers were escorted into the throne room for Angelus�s survey. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ �Please, Lord Angelus,� Martin said, �let them show you what they do. Admire their artistry and let them dazzle your senses. You will see they are precisely as they claim to be, the finest entertainers in all of Oregonia.� Angel sat back in his throne, and waved one hand. �Very well,� he said. �Proceed.� Musicians quickly assembled themselves into a small orchestra and began to play, first for a coterie of barely-dressed dancers waving streamers and flags while a singer belted out heartfelt birthday wishes. Angel let the production number go on for a minute and a half before announcing, �I get the idea. Let�s move on.� The dancers exited, followed by a magician, a fire-eater, a group of tumblers, and poodles that did tricks. Angel gave each of them his pass. At last the musicians took up a slow, sensuous song, one that spoke of mystery, and the East. Three dancers, all concealed under filmy robes and veils, took to the floor. Angel took a shaky breath as they twisted and writhed in an erotic display, letting the veils flutter one by one to the floor to expose pale, flawless skin. Then the dancer dressed all in black revealed a smooth plane of stomach and chest, and Angel�s breath hitched. This dancer was a man. Angel sat up a little straighter as the dancer came closer, turning this way and that to show flashes of his slim, hard body. Even with his head completely concealed, Angel could tell he was exquisitely beautiful, and for a moment he secretly regretted his vow to take no slaves. The dancer came closer, right up onto the throne dais, and brought one long, pale hand to within millimeters of Angel�s cheek, then whirled gracefully away. He came back, barely brushing Angel�s face now, then spun away again. Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Finally, the dancer, nearly naked save for a veil before his face and one barely clinging to his hips, curled one white arm over Angel�s shoulder and leaned his face close to the vampire Lord�s ear. �Do you not see, Sire, what I offer you?� he whispered. �I would be your slave to be near my boy.� Angel grabbed the dancer�s wrist, twisting it back painfully, then tore the veil from his face. �Spike,� Angel growled. �I knew this was a trick.� Spike sank to his knees as well as he could given Angel�s painful grip on his wrist, �It�s no trick, Angelus. Whatever it takes to see my boy again, I will do.� Angel glared down at his Childe, then swept his eyes over the other vampires and humans filling the room. �Leave us,� he said. The room emptied swiftly and silently while the two vampires stood in a frozen tableau. When the door closed, Angel shoved Spike to the floor and pounced on him, leaning his full weight on him to hold him down. Spike didn�t move, allowing his Sire to crush him into the floor. �What are you doing?� Angel demanded. �What kind of game is this?� �No game,� Spike said a bit breathlessly, unable to inhale much air into his lungs. �You can use me however you like. I trust you not to kill me or oppress my lands, so anything else� I am yours.� At these words, Angel felt a charge of desire. In the more than six centuries since Spike had been made, he had never given himself so freely and willingly. �Anything,� Spike repeated, knowing full well the effect his words were having on his Sire. Angel didn�t move for several long moments, considering Spike�s words, then pushed himself to his feet. Spike stared up at him expectantly, awaiting Angel�s next move. Angel took a few paces back and forth, then stared down at Spike again. He tried not to grin at the picture the younger vampire presented, sprawled on the floor as he was and clad in the sheer veils, jewelry, and shimmering paint of a dancer. �Get up,� Angel said, his earlier anger evaporating, and Spike climbed to his feet. �You look like an insane stripper,� Angel said. Spike grinned. �I was going for sexy and exotic belly-dancer,� he said, �but whatever gets the job done.� Angel sat back on his throne and shook his head. �What am I to do with you?� he said. �What do you think I should do with you?� Spike lowered his eyes. �Whatever it takes to prove myself to you?� he said. �What would you do if you were in my place?� Spike thought about this; the question was unexpected. �Well,� he began, �I expected you�d beat me, fuck me raw, probably make me perform all sorts of humiliating tricks like a trained monkey.� �And you would do that?� �If I thought it would bring me and Xander back together, I would do all of it and more.� Angel�s expression grew thoughtful. �You care for him that much?� Spike looked up, his eyes bright with unshed tears. �I do, Angelus. I swear I do. No one has ever loved me like he does.� Angel�s eyes narrowed. �Because you made him that way,� he said. �It isn�t real.� Spike advanced angrily, hot tears beginning to stain his cheeks. �It is real,� he shouted. �You son-of-a-bitch, don�t tell me it�s not.� He came to a halt just short of striking Angel, aware he had probably just blown any chance at his plan�s success, when Angel began laughing. Spike stepped back, confused. �Just making sure there wasn�t some ulterior motive,� Angel said. �You never have been able to hide your true feelings for long, childe.� Spike pressed his lips together, chagrined, causing Angel to laugh louder. �Come with me,� Angel said, rising again and heading for the door. Spike followed quickly behind. When they entered the quarters Angel had set aside for the clones, they found the rooms dimmed and quiet. Buffy and Willow lay dozing together on one of the large, low beds, but Xander sat at the north window gazing out over the dark, barren hills. �Xander,� Spike said, his voice little more that a hoarse whisper. The boy turned, his cheeks spotted with tears, and his large, brown eyes widened in shocked joy. He ran to Spike�s side, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around the vampire�s waist. �Oh, Master,� he cried, the tears starting anew. �I thought you were dead.� Spike, already unsteady, sank down beside the boy and wrapped him in his arms. �My Xander, my beautiful boy,� he said. �I�ve missed you so much.� And he peppered the dark head with kisses. �What�s going on,� Buffy yawned as she and Willow came awake, rubbing their eyes with their hands. They saw Spike at the same moment, their faces opening with the same shock Xander had shown. Then they, too, were kneeling beside Spike, holding him and kissing his tears away. Angel, his last doubts about Spike and the children vanished, withdrew from the rooms, leaving them to reunite in privacy. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Unprompted by Angel, Spike told the clones that they had been taken away at his request and for their own safety. He apologized for not sending any word, claiming he hadn�t wanted them frightened by partial stories. Then he reassured them he was safe, and all was well, and he would never leave them again. They practically carried him to the nearest bed, laughing and crying at once, then fell on him together, kissing and petting him. Xander, in particular, could not seem to get enough of the taste of him, kissing him so deeply he forgot to breathe, and pulled away breathless and gasping. He begged Spike to take him again and again, not satisfied until every inch of his skin had been painted with the vampire�s seed, then they fell together into a deep sleep. For the first time in weeks, both slept soundly.. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Two years later: Angel�s caravan crawled slowly up the road to Castle Fireflite, his trucks laden with gifts for the children�s seventeenth birthday. Since Spike�s pledge to Angel the year before, Angel had divided his time between his own country and �state visits� to Oregonia. He expected, in time, that the two countries would merge, allowing the vampires to share all their time. Not far distant, Angel saw horses approaching the caravan, one rider blonde, the other red-haired. He ordered the truck to stop and climbed out to greet them. �Lord Angel! Lord Angel!� Buffy and Willow cried together, springing from horseback to throw their arms around his neck and press kisses against his face and hair. Angel lifted one in each arm, laughing and kissing them back �My pretty girls,� he said, �how I�ve missed you.� �We�ve missed you, too,� they said together, then laughed. Angel carried them the whole way up to the castle, the three of them talking and laughing all along. Inside, the main castle rooms were a frenzy of activity as Spike, Martin, and other functionaries directed the decorators, cooks, and entertainers for the party. Xander, as usual, was right at Spike�s elbow, and Angel noticed the fond, unconscious way they touched each other as Spike carried on his business. �I�ve brought their highnesses back,� Angel announced, setting the giggling teenaged girls on their feet. Spike halted in his instruction to a nervous-looking vampire hanging colored streamers and bowed low. �Welcome, Sire,� he said. �Oregonia and I both welcome you.� Since regaining the children the year before, Spike had been deferential and respectful to Angel, and their relationship was warm and close. �Spike, my beloved Childe,� Angel said, putting a hand on Spike�s shoulder and raising him up. �It is a pleasure to see you again. How are things going with you?� Formalities dispensed with, Spike waved one hand dismissively at the chaos around them. �Not bad, all things considered,� he said. �I�m surrounded by morons as far as this party goes, but I�ll stay on them and get it worked out. But what of you, Sire? How are affairs in Joshua?� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The children�s birthday party, as always, was the most gala and festive event seen in the region since the previous year�s celebration. There was music, dancing, and entertainment that lasted well into the next day, when representatives of countries from all over the globe presented tributes and gifts. There were jewels, silks, exotic spices, and a tiny trained monkey from the Far East. There were velvets, satins, fine furniture, antiques and art from what had once been Europe. And from every other quarter came the rare and interesting: unusual plants, cunning toys and games, books, singing birds, and comely and accommodating slaves. The children struggled to stay awake and prolong the celebration, but when it became clear they couldn�t hold their eyes open a moment longer, Spike dismissed the whole ensemble and he and Angel carried them to their chambers. Angel gave a small smile as he watched Spike carefully arrange Xander beneath the blankets, then join him, pulling the boy into his arms and snuggling together. As had become his custom during the recent months, Angel bedded down between the girls, one arm round each of their shoulders. As he began to drift into sleep, Angel recalled his last conversation with Spike, when they had made their plan to Sire each of the clones, a gift for their eighteenth birthdays. A small coven of witches and mystics were prepared to secure their souls, preserving them as they were for eternity. In a few days� time they would be together forever. At his left hand, Willow sighed and nuzzled his throat, and Buffy, still asleep, reached over to touch Willow�s arm reassuringly. Angel squeezed them both gently, then fell into sleep himself. All was right in their world. The End Main Menu ~ Return to Stand Alone Menu |