Title: Wrapped in Red Ribbon. 
AUTHORS: Salustra 
E-MAILS: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com ; 
Pairing: Spike/Wesley 
Rating: For Adults Only but nothing graphic 
Summary: Wesley decides to give himself as a present to Spike. Kerensa challenged
me to do a fic based off one of my own manips. It's not *quite* a thousand words, 
but close. If you want to see the manip, here's a link- 
http://weblogimages.com/static/xEZ395096ow6.jpg .
Spoilers: Through Season 5 Ats, nothing specific. 
Disclaimer: Don't own nothing, just having fun. 
Warnings: m/m slash, implied bdsm. 
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ; 
My livejournal - http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=salustra ; and the 
website Weird Romances- http://www.salustra.vague-disclaimer.org . Anyplace else 
is fine, just let me know where it's going.
Feedback: Please? E-mail to goddess_salustra@juno.com
Length: 909 words.




Wesley checks over the list of items one last time, and reviews the spells in his 
mind. They're simple enough, but he doesn't want to flub them when he needs them. 
He smiles nervously, butterflies in his stomach. This will either work or he will 
look a massive fool. But he's tried all sorts of subtle hints and not gotten any 
response. He packs everything up carefully and hoists the bag over his shoulder. 
He pushes the button on his intercom. "I'm gone for the evening. I'll be out of 
touch, don't contact me under *any* circumstances." He doesn't wait for a response, 
just strides out of the office to the elevator and down to the garage. 

A short while later, he's at the apartment. Time for the first spell. Sparks 
crackle from his fingers and the lock clicks open. He enters and closes the door 
behind him, reversing the spell to re-lock the door. Time is of the essence, and 
he gets to work, setting out some of the items on the little dining table, and 
then heading for the bedroom. He strips down to just a shirt, and lays out the 
rest of the items on the bedside table. His clothes he neatly folds and puts into 
the bag, setting it aside. He takes a deep breath and settles onto the bed. He 
picks up the long strip of thick, dark red satin ribbon. Time for the last spell. 
He incants and the ribbon floats, starting to wrap around his wrists and knotting 
itself. He settles back, posing himself, and waiting. 

Spike comes to the door, grumbling. "Sodding bloody sorry excuse of a Sire," he 
mutters to himself. Angel had forgotten. He doesn't know why he was surprised, 
Angel was never the most considerate being. But he'd used to make such a fuss on 
this day when Spike was a fledge. It hurt. He unlocks the door. He's lifted a 
couple of bottles of Angel's expensive private stock of Irish whiskey and he 
intends to get very very drunk tonight. 

He steps inside and his senses are on alert. Someone is in here. He takes a deep 
breath and wrinkles his brow in confusion as he recognizes the scent. Then he sees 
there is something on the table and he walks forward. 

There is a bottle on the table, with a yellowed, antique label, and two crystal 
brandy snifters. He lifts the bottle and looks at it. Napoleon brandy. He smiles,
and then sees the note that was underneath the bottle. It reads, 'This is your 
first present. The rest are in the bedroom.' Spike takes the bottle and the 
snifters and walks into the bedroom. 

Wesley is spread out on the bed. His wrists are tied with red satin ribbon, and he 
is dressed only in a white dress shirt of fabric so sheer that it barely conceals 
anything. There are a number of goodies on the bedside table, but Spike's 
attention is riveted to Wesley. A rush of arousal runs through him at the 
appealing sight. He licks his lips and makes himself speak. "Care to explain?" 

Wesley smiles, nervous and excited all at once, but he makes his voice remain calm. 
"I did a little research. I know what day this is. Thought perhaps...you might 
like a present." 

"Ah." Spike's jaw clenches. "Don't need pity, Watcher." 

"It's not!" Wesley blurts out. "I just...I've been trying to get your attention 
for months, and nothing else was working." 

Spike's a little stunned at that. He's silent for a moment, absorbing. "Guess I've 
been distracted. Usually I'm better at reading people than that." He starts 
unbuttoning the black long-sleeved shirt he has on, the one he wore to try to get 
*Angel's* attention today. 

Wes gasps softly as Spike's pale, muscled chest comes into view. He's seen him 
before, briefly, without clothing...but this is different. Spike looks at Wesley, 
sensing the surge in arousal, and he moves onto the bed. He slides his hand onto 
Wesley's back, up over the smooth fabric. "You really do want me, don't you?" 

Wesley nods, his eyes locked on Spike's. It's like being close to some great feral 
cat, so fascinating and beautiful and deadly. "Yes, I do. Ever since you arrived." 

Spike quirks a small smile, his other hand stroking down Wesley's arm, and onto 
the bound wrists. "Nice touch. Wrapped up for me. This strong enough to actually 
keep you captive?" 

Wesley shivers and nods, swallowing before he answers. "Bespelled. I got it on 
with a spell but only you can take it off." 

Spike purr-growls and moves the hand on Wes' back into his hair. "You do know the 
buttons to push, don't you? Pretty boy at my mercy. Been a long time, Watcher. 
You sure you want this?" 

Wesley doesn't hesitate. "I'm sure. I know, perhaps better than most people, 
what's involved." 

Spike purr-growls again, tightening his fingers and pulling Wesley's head back. 
He kisses lightly on the exposed and vulnerable neck. "I don't accept halfway 
measures, *boy*. No time for foolishness." 

Wesley moans and whimpers softly. The moment of truth. "I'm not in this halfway. 
I'm yours, Spike, if you want me." 

Spike tugs on the bound wrists, arching Wesley prettily for him. "I do. I most 
certainly do. Nicest deathday present ever." 

Wesley moans and shivers as the vampire presses him down onto the bed. Looks like 
both of them are getting a present today...