Vices of My Blood

Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.

Author's Note: Warnings: Torture, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations, Violence Buffy/Spike; Drusilla/Angelus Pairing

Chapter 3



Buffy walked up the sidewalk to her house deep in thought of today’s events. She had gone on patrol with Kendra after checking in with the Scooby gang at the library to make sure everyone was all right. Unfortunately no vamps showed which made tonight’s patrol a bust.



Her mind kept drifting back to her fight in the church with Spike: how gracefully he moved when he dodged some of her punches, it was like watching a big panther stretch. Her panties became damp from the memory of feeling Spike pressed up against her before she had thrown him into the pews.



Thoughts of the fight turned to rescuing Angel. She wondered how he was faring. He didn’t look too good when she and Kendra got him home. She couldn’t have gone back to him earlier because Giles had sent her on that bust of a patrol. She looked at her front door a moment and then walked away; she needed to see how Angel was doing.



On the walk she unconsciously started comparing Spike to Angel. Angel’s dark, brooding, good looks and quiet, closed off manner and muscled bulk; Spike’s light, chiseled, handsome features and open and gregarious manner, and taut, firm, rock hard muscle . . . with slim hips, razor blade cheekbones and beautiful cerulean blue eyes where Angel’s eyes were a deep brown. Bad Buffy! Stop it! I’m driving myself crazy! Just stop thinking of Spike! Why am I even thinking of the dead blond guy when I’m the girlfriend of the dead dark haired guy, anyway? Grrr!



When Buffy walked closer to Whiteoak Drive a vampire jumped out. Buffy nearly jumped for joy that a vamp had finally shown up. Finally, something to pummel. She delivered a good hard punch to his nose, when she felt the unfamiliar tingling feeling in her arm. She shook it off as fatigue from the day. She blocked the vamp’s right hook and then his left hand that was aimed at her ribs. She threw her head forward knocking the vampire off balance as well as herself. What is wrong with me tonight? She caught herself with a step back, but the vamp tripped over a root and fell on his back. Buffy quickly crouched down and staked the vamp sending him into a vapor of dust.



As she walked to Angel’s apartment her mind was a jumbled mess. What was wrong with her motor skills tonight? She should have been able to pummel that fledgling easily enough. Her brow furrowed in concern for her own slaying skills. Maybe she needed to step up her training with Giles these days. With that decided her mind shifted to Angel and his health after the ritual Spike had performed. She hoped he had gotten better with rest. But then Spike’s name in her mind brought another thought to the blond, sexy vampire. Sexy? Spike is sexy? Bad Buffy! Think of Angel not of the blond menace.



No matter how much she tried, her mind still drifted to Spike, mentally taking inventory of every muscle that rippled when he moved during their fight. He even looked sexy in vamp-face. His human guise gave him a lost little boy appearance that was super-sexy; however his true vampire face with all the ridged bumpies gave off a more confident appearance which was also sexy. Again, with the Spike-sexiness? Stop it, Buffy. Think of Angel! Yeah, once she got to Angel’s apartment and saw that he was okay, Spike will get the hell out of her mind.

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Buffy opened the door to Angel’s apartment, walked in and closed it behind her. She walked over to the bed and saw that it had been made. One of Angel’s shirts was laid out on the bed. She moved over to the bed and reached for the shirt. Behind her Angelus stepped over to a statue, picked up a necklace hanging from it and put it on. Buffy’s spider-sense alerted her of a vampire and she turned and saw him.



“Angel!” she breathed and ran to him.



“Hey!” Angelus greeted her.



“Oh!” Buffy was elated to see that he was up and about and rushed over to wrap her arms around his neck in a hug.



“Hey.” Angelus watched her reaction to who she thought was Angel and smiled, she had fallen real hard for the act. Now to put the rest of his plan in motion if he wanted Drusilla back, he had to use the Slayer to distract Spike and then he and his childe will destroy them both.



Buffy kissed and hugged Angelus. She moved her hands over him, making sure there were no tender spots. She took his hand and hers to examine the wound that had long healed. She looked up in his eyes and detected something was wrong but couldn’t put her finger on it. She shrugged off the niggling worry, chalking it up to his earlier ordeal of being joined to Drusilla. “Oh my God! I was so worried!”



Angelus smiled at her and picked up his shirt, putting it on. “As you can see, I’m alive, healthy and in one piece. Say, wanna go for a walk with me?”



Buffy’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Okay.”



Buffy took his hand, interlocking their fingers and walked out of the apartment with him. They walked several blocks with Buffy enjoying the quiet company and comfort of Angel. She loved his quiet guardianship over her, although it could be overbearing at times. So much different than Spike. Grrrr, would I just stop thinking of him!?



“Angel?” Buffy inquired as she walked beside him.



Angelus looked down at her, feigning a concerned look. “Hmm?”



“I had this weird feeling tonight while fighting a vamp, made me feel all wiggy really, maybe I need to step up my training again,” she said, finally believing she may need it after going over the thought repeatedly in her head.



“Maybe,” Angelus agreed, looking away from her and rolling her eyes. How could Angel put up with the prattling?



She was so engrossed in Angel’s presence that she didn’t notice where they were headed until Spike’s warehouse loomed before them in a dark, menacing way.



“Why are we here, Angel?” Buffy asked him, confused.



Angelus didn’t say anything as he led her to the door. When he got within an inch of opening the door he vamped, whipped his head around toward Buffy, and growled at her. Startled by his sudden change, she jumped back. His hand closed around her throat cutting off precious oxygen. She fought frantically trying to free herself, but the weariness of earlier had returned and she was unable to find the strength to break loose.



Her hips bucked back against him trying to throw him away from her and causing Angelus to growl softly in her ear, “Oh, Buffy, Buffy, it seems that I wasn’t the only one that was affected by the Eligor ritual, huh, sweetheart?”



Buffy clawed at his hand trying to loosen his hold on her neck. “Angel!” She rasped out. “You’re choking me!”



“Am I? Sorry about that,” Angel said snidely, only to tighten his grip. “What happened to that Slayer strength, Buff?”



Angelus ripped the door of the factory open and hauled her inside. She was still clawing his hands, drawing blood in the process as she tried to breathe around the obstruction against her windpipe.



Once they were in the wide open area of the factory, Angelus sniffed the air and followed Drusilla’s scent to . . . Spike’s room? He ground his teeth and growled in his throat. His errant grandchilde was getting on his last nerve. Even after a hundred years, Angelus thought Spike would know better than to take what wasn’t rightfully his. Drusilla belonged to her sire. The ungrateful whelp had been in his childe’s company for a hundred years, and now it was time to reclaim her.



Buffy had passed out from the lack of oxygen as Angelus dragged her to the closed door of Spike’s room. He opened the door to see Spike and Dru on the bed, Drusilla was straddling his hips, her skirt billowing around them in a cloud of red. She was making tiny nicks in the blond vampire’s chest and licking the droplets of blood away. Angelus’ expression darkened to black at the sight and he nearly threw Buffy against the door when he pulled her inside.



“Dru! Get off him right now!” Angelus barked as he let go of Buffy’s throat and ignoring the thudding sound as her body fell to the floor before he walked over to the bed and took Drusilla’s hand.



“Don’t be upset, Daddy. I just wanted to give my shining knight his reward,” Drusilla pouted as she slid off the bed to stand by her sire.



“What does William need to be rewarded for, my dear?” Angelus asked her even as he glared at Spike, the younger vampire’s body was bleeding from hundreds of little nicks left by Drusilla’s talon-like nails.



“Shh. Miss Edith says my William should be rewarded for saving Princess from wasting away to ashes,” Dru said in sing-song. She turned her head and saw Buffy. “The pixies whispered to me. They told me you would bring a new playmate for us.”



Buffy had rolled onto her back and groaned as she tenderly massaged her throat, wincing at the pain that lingered. Angelus had forgotten about her at the sight of his childe rewarding Spike, until he heard her rasp, “Like hell I am.”



Angelus rolled his eyes. The slayer had been disagreeable with his plan thus far. “The Slayer is not for you, Dru. I thought the best way to deal with her would be to have her take care of Spike here. After all, she is the reason he’s in a wheelchair.”



“She, what? You’ve got to be joking! I kill slayers, I don’t room with them!” Spike finally found his voice after Drusilla’s little torture session. Well for his sire the equivalent of a make out session but for him her nails were tiny continuous little pinpricks that irritated his skin. It has been so long since I last sleep with her, I forgot how torturous she could be in bed. His Black Goddess brought new meaning to torturous sex; her foreplay was stinging pain equal to that of acupuncture and the sex act itself was equal to be strung on the Rack, a device of the 15th and 16th centuries. His Dark Princess used to put up a mean fight and made him work for his pleasure of her body.



The dark couple ignored him as Drusilla pouted as asked, “But why the Slayer? Why not me, or one of the others?” Drusilla skimmed her razor nails over Angelus’ chest and then leaned in to lick the small trickle of blood away from his skin.



“Because I’m not having Spike monopolize all of your time when I’ve got the Slayer right here to take care of him, and a minion he could easily kill even in his current state,” Angelus half growled from the pleasure-pain of her nails making shallow cuts on his chest. He closed his eyes to the sensation of her tongue licking his sire’s blood away.



“And Dalton?” Drusilla inquired as she eyed her childe as she looked up at him with her midnight blue eyes.



“No, Dalton is too loyal to him. I couldn’t sleep at night knowing Dalton was doing anything more than delivering blood; he could talk Dalton into anything. Nope, it’s going to be the Slayer. It’ll get her out of my hair.” Angelus hated having to explain his actions for everything to his childe.



“Oh, bloody hell!” Spike swore, rolling his eyes and looking away from the two people staring at him. They don’t trust another vampire – minion, no less – to look after me so they put me together with the very bitch who caused my pain and suffering? Between them planning his living arrangement of being roommates with the bloody Slayer and now having to watch his sire tease his grandsire, he wanted to stake himself. But then, if I did that, he would win and we can’t have that now, can we?



“I can just kill her for you, Angel,” Drusilla purred with a smile as she sidled up to Angelus. She adored her sire; he had given her everything she asked for. He had given her Miss Edith in 1898 before the gypsy curse made him leave her again. He had let her keep her sweet William, even went so far as to welcome the blond vampire into the family. He was even considerate enough to hold her head under the bath water when she asked it of him, now that grandmummy wasn’t there to do it. Yes, daddy spoils me more than a sire should spoil a childe.



“NO!” Angelus barked. He had other plans for the Slayer, even if they hadn’t come to fruition yet.



Buffy started to cry. She didn’t know what was going on or why Angel had brought her to Spike, only vague references that confused her even more. She didn’t know what had become of Angel, but the man that stood before her with the same brooding face wasn’t her Angel. The man in front of her was entirely different. Her Angel would never give her over to Spike and Drusilla as if she were the main course. And when had he teamed up with Drusilla? She knew Angel was the dark beauty’s sire, but . . . this was so confusing. She held her head in her hands as the whole scenario was giving her a headache trying to sort it out.



Buffy looked up at Angel with confusion written on her face. “Angel, what has happened to you? Why have you brought me here? I love you and you’re literally giving me over to the slayer of Slayers?!” Buffy tried to will the tears away as her body shuddered with sobs.



Angelus hauled her up against him by her shirt; her feet were a few inches off the ground. “Com’n, Buffy, don’t cry, it’ll all be over soon, and besides, Spike’s out of action for now, it’s not like he can hurt from his . . . position,” he chuckled derisively and moved closer to her ear to whisper, “Just don’t get too close to him.”



“Why are you doing this, Angel? Please, tell me,” Buffy begged, blinking back the tears. She was used to Angel giving her cryptic messages but now he wasn’t telling her anything that even she as a slayer could be prepared for. His expression was closed off to her, and she noticed a steel resolve she had never seen before.



Drusilla came to stand in front of her, gliding a nail softly under Buffy’s chin to bring her confusion-ridden eyes to meet those of the vampiress. “Little sunshine, you are the light that daddy wishes to preserve. Princess will abide by daddy’s wishes for now.”



Buffy was even more perplexed than before Drusilla started spouting off nonsense. “What are you talking about?” Buffy asked through gritted teeth and drying tears. Drusilla wasn’t making any sense. The dark haired woman was Angel’s obsession; her insanity was his creation. Buffy presumed that in her sane years, she was a joy to be around and her visions were clearly spoken, but now crazed with insanity the vampiress was not only crazy but spoke in riddles that were hard to decipher.



Angelus grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, and kissed her with a loud smack before tossing her to the side to land on the floor at the edge of the bed. “Spike, she’s your new roommate. Make nice with her, and for your sake, don’t kill her or you’re dust!” Angelus growled as he grabbed Drusilla’s hand and whisked her out of the door slamming it behind him and locking it.



Buffy frowned as she watched Angel walk out of the room with a firm grip on Drusilla’s wrist. She felt her fate seal when she heard the lock echo through the room. Her expression turned to one of confusion, looking at the closed door and then at Spike lying on the bed. He was lying on the covers with the wheelchair beside his bed. He was in repose while the tiny cuts that Drusilla had left were healing.



“I don’t understand what just happened. At the apartment he was fine, we went out for a walk and end up here and he went all wiggy on me,” Buffy said aloud as she tried to reason out what was going on.



“It’s not Angel,” Spike ground out. He didn’t look at her, his head was laid back and eyes were closed giving his body tranquil moments to slowly heal. But he knew where she was in the room by her scent.



“What is going on with him? And he’s back with Drusilla?” Buffy asked as her mind worked overtime to reason out why Angel and Dru were together, ignoring Spike’s words altogether.



Spike growled in irritation at Buffy continually prattling to herself. “Intellect wasn’t a part of your calling, was it, Slayer?” Not as daft or maybe even more daft than Drusilla is.



Buffy was twisting the doorknob and looking around for a way to get out when Spike’s question surprised her. “What do you mean?” God, I need to get out of here! Grrr, why am I still so weak? I should have been able to at least make a dent in this door in some way. With her inability to use Slayer-strength, the walls felt like they were closing in on her and she tried not to think of it; she didn’t want to be any closer to Spike than she already was. No matter how sexy he is . . . GOD! Would I stop doing that! He’s a killer of my kind, he is NOT sexy!



“I mean that you may be a Slayer but intellect isn’t your strong suit. For one, the door is locked, which means we’re stuck together whether you like it or not, because those are industrial doors, and as much as I fancy not sharing this space with a vampire slayer, I also would like to keep my door. So quit trying to pull it off the bloody hinges. For the second, your sweetie bear is no longer Angel. He’s Angelus.”



When Buffy acknowledged Spike’s words about the door, she ran over to the window.



“What do you mean he’s Angelus? Angel has a soul, he couldn’t be Angelus. Angelus . . . Angelus . . .,” Buffy lost her train of thought as she went to smash through the window only to be brought up short by Spike’s commanding voice again.



“Don’t you dare break that window, Slayer! You may hate being here, but this is still my bloody room and I won’t wake up as a pile of dust because of you,” Spike growled.



“What are you going to do, come over here and stop me? You can’t use your legs,” Buffy threw over her shoulder and she searched the ceiling for a vent.



That is it, I don’t care what Angelus says; I’m going to kill her with my bare hands. “An’ you’re the reason why, you stupid bint! You dropped a church organ on my body!” he cried before haphazardly lunging at her from the bed only to collapse on the floor. “Bloody hell! Fucking bint is going to get it … I’ll kill her!”



Buffy looked behind her at the thudding sound and saw an empty bed. She followed the string of expletives to the floor at the side of the bed. She stood over him trying to contain her mirth at the vampire’s predicament. “I thought I heard Angel tell you that it would be in your best interest not to kill me.”



“Sod off what Angelus wants,” he swore from his position on the floor. He looked up at her. “Can you help me up?” He gave her a pleading look. She wouldn’t dust an incapacitated vampire. Well, okay, maybe she would, but she’s too good for that. She did seem to like a fair fight when we last danced.



Buffy rolled her eyes. The annoying vampire was now asking for my help to get up? Am I that dim-witted? Come on, I know the story about the frog and the scorpion. Something about not trusting the enemy cause it’s in their nature to kill you. “Why would I help you, Spike? Why shouldn’t I just dust you right now while I have the chance?”



“Because I have a feeling about you, Slayer: you like a good, fair fight. And with me out of commission, you would only get a cheap kill that will mean nothing in the end.” That and the fact that you made me this way and you should be having a guilty conscience over it. “I can’t defend myself against you or Angelus at this point, because of you!” Spike growled. God, she was an irksome bint.



“Fine! Fine! I’ll help you, but if you so much as try to bite me, if you so much as come near my neck, I will stake you,” Buffy threatened as she bent down and hooked him under his arms to pull him up.



As soon as Buffy worked Spike’s body back onto the bed, Spike threw out another thing, “I probably lost Drusilla to Angelus because of you, Slayer.” A hundred years with my Dark Princess all thrown away now because the goddamn slayer felled a piano on me. He gave her a black look at that thought.



“Like I care what you’ve lost, Spike, I didn’t ask to be here. I was dragged here against my will!” Buffy threw back. Infuriating vampire thinks he’s going to make me feel bad for losing that ho to Angel he’s got another thing coming. And what’s with Spike calling Angel Angelus? “Why do you keep calling him Angelus? He’s Angel, he has a soul!”



“BECAUSE HE IS ANGELUS!” Spike yelled. How many bloody ways does a bloke have to tell her before she finally believes something? “Your Angel with a soul is no more, Slayer. It’s Angelus now. He’s back to being the bastard he always was.”



“What the hell are you talking about, Spike. What do you mean ‘he’s back to being the bastard he always was’? Stop speaking in riddles like Dru does and tell me already!” Buffy was ready to strangle the vampire in front of her.



“Fine, pet, you wanna know what you’re up against with Angelus? Angelus is brutal. Angelus is vicious. Angelus has no mercy to show. Angelus feels no love for anything or anyone, least of all himself. He thrives on fear more than any vampire is known to. He thrives on your tears. He kills indiscriminately, whether it is a king or a barmaid. He doesn’t care. He boasts of his kills. He’s a master in the art of psychological torture. He will find that one thing that keeps you up at night and he will exploit it to his advantage. Physical torture isn’t really his thing, but he won’t restrict himself from using it to get what he wants. Do you want tales of the psychological torture he can inflict? Just take a look at Drusilla. I’m sure Angel has told you what he did to her. Do you want tales of the people he’s killed? The first thing he did as vampire was kill his own family out of hatred and then he slaughtered the whole village.” Spike stopped speaking for her to digest what he said.



“Like you’re any better? You’ve killed just as many if not more, Spike, he can’t be any worse than you,” Buffy mused. He can’t be any better than Angelus, he’s still a killer. He’s tried killing me enough times.



“You’re right I have killed as many, but Angelus taught me to kill. He taught me the thrill and amorality of being a vampire. I was and am nothing like him. If the watcher’s books say I’m the worst master vampire in all of history, then it’s only second to Angelus. Angelus is the most vicious creature you will ever meet, Slayer. There is no way I or any other vampire can prepare you for what’s to come from my grandsire,” he said giving Buffy a meaningful scowl before furrowing his brow in anger and continuing, “But now I can’t even defend myself or Drusilla from Angelus because you put me in that bloody wheelchair, you selfish bint! Put me in a fucking wheelchair so you can save a vampire who has no bloody soul anymore! Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone, Slayer?” Spike was nearly screaming at her and shaking in frustration. Dealing with this girl and her rose-tinted mind is making me into a nervous wreck!



“Because I had to save Angel, Spike, you were going to kill him with that ritual! I couldn’t allow you to use him for your sadistic ritual as a means to cure that crazy vampiress,” Buffy said in disgust. Spike had to be as crazy as Drusilla to think I would stand by and allow that to happen.



“I would do almost anything for my Dark Princess, she’s my sire. I have loved her for more than a hundred years. She is my destiny . . . or was until Angelus returned,” Spike said quietly as a sense of sadness came over him. His Black Goddess was even further out of his reach now with his grandsire here. How could he had let himself forget that even after a hundred years and loss of Angelus, due to his soul, that Drusilla would turn to him with any more than a sire’s devotion to their childe. He loved her and still did even after all these years, but somehow deep down he knew she was biding her time for the day her daddy would return. And now what do you suppose she is doing with her sire in the room down the hall?



Buffy just looked at the dejected vampire in front of her. She saw his emotions play out across his face. How can a soulless vampire feel so much? Especially one who just claimed that Angelus had no feelings one way or the other? Spike was becoming an anomaly to her. It was strange to see him in a moment of weakness when before while they were fighting he was so self-assured of his place in society and the vampire world.



She looked Spike over, taking in his slowly healing body. “I thought vampires had accelerated healing abilities,” Buffy waved her hand over Spike’s prone body, “you know, like Slayers.”



“Yeah, we do, but it’s a quite a bit slower when they are bone crushing injuries,” Spike snapped.



“How so?” Buffy knew she was goading him but she couldn’t help it. The blond vampire grated on her nerves. Annoying, over-confident, cocky vampire . . . too bad I do have a thing about killing vampires in a fair fight. I’d love to break the bedpost and throw a shard of it into his . . . Buffy gave a low cry of frustration. “I hate you, Spike! I can’t wait until you are healed so I can kill you!”



“Don’t worry, Slayer. The feeling’s mutual. If I can’t kill you in a fair fight; it wouldn’t be as much fun, now would it? And to answer your question, it’s because you, you dense bint! You dropped a church organ on my bloody back!” Spike growled in response. The damn slayer grated his nerves. Angelus probably knew they hated each other and trapped them in the same room because of it. I’ll bet he and Dru are just laughing this one up. His brow furrowed in anger at the thought of his sire and grandsire in cahoots against him.



Buffy smiled and tried to keep the laughter that was bubbling out of her at bay. The way he looked with his brow furrowing and his cheeks sucked in from clenching his teeth was priceless. It made his handsome features harsher, but it was so comical.



“What the bleedin’ hell are you laughing at, Slayer?” Spike demanded as he shifted position to see her more clearly.



“You. The way your face contorts when you get angry is a priceless image.” Buffy giggled.



“Yeah? Well you’re no picnic when you’re pissed either, Slayer,” Spike retorted.



“When have you ever seen me truly angry?” Buffy wondered aloud.



“Just now, at me and again Angelus when he dragged you in here,” Spike said, “You can’t be anymore pissed at being with me than I am with you, Slayer. And here you are arguing with me instead of being upset at Angelus for what he might have planned.”



“Yeah, well you’re a familiar topic, and arguing with you kept my mind off my impending doom at the hands of Angel,” Buffy replied. She still couldn’t grasp that Angel was the vengeful Angelus. Her Angel never had a mean bone in his body toward her. It was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that he was different now.



“Bloody hell, girl, he’s Angelus. He is no longer Angel. The lap dog of a boyfriend you had before is gone, and the demon that has taken over his body can and will find your weakest spot and slowly kill you with it through psychological and physical torture. He will fuck with your mind so bad that you will end up like Drusilla if not worse,” Spike nearly yelled. He was determined to try to make her understand that it wasn’t Angel driving his body around; it was his sadistic grandsire Angelus.



The door opened and Dalton, a vampire with glasses, came into the room carrying a crate of bagged blood. He sat it at the foot of the bed and moved to the edge to see to his master.



“How are you feeling today, Master Spike?” Dalton asked, sounding genuinely concerned about the blond vampire.



Dalton idolized Spike ever since he killed the Anointed One. He figured Spike for a fair-minded, fun-loving Master Vampire who took pleasure in his un-life where he could get it, even when the other minions seemed so bitter and loathed those around them.



“I’m doing fine today, Dalton. Have a look-see at what Angelus gave me for a nursemaid,” Spike smirked at Buffy. Nothing like seeing the Slayer uncomfortable to brighten my mood.



“Oh?” Dalton turned and stared straight into Buffy’s eyes with no fear of the girl. He had heard Master Angelus and Mistress Drusilla talking about the choice of leaving Spike in the care of the tiny girl standing before him. “Hello, miss,” Dalton said cordially. He sniffed the air and gave a surprised expression to Spike. “A Vampire Slayer?” That certainly missed his ears. When Angelus and Drusilla talked of her they only used her given name or ‘the girl’ or in Dru’s case ‘Sunshine’.



“Yep, Angelus’ version of a sick joke. The way my grandsire sees it, he traps me in here with her, it keeps me busy and out his hair while he takes Drusilla and he gets the entertainment of seeing us cohabitate,” Spike reasoned. Oh, Angelus will pay in the end for interfering with my life.



“Master Angelus told you that?” Dalton was surprised that Angelus would divulge so much of his plans. Master Angelus was so silent around the minions unless he was issuing orders.



“No, he didn’t have to, but I’ve known my grandsire for over a century and he’s getting his kicks from this little scenario,” Spike said, gesturing toward the crate. “Hey, Slayer, since you’ll be here a while, mind getting me one of those bags?”



“Oh get it yourself, you insufferable bloodsucking leech,” Buffy had heard Spike’s idea of what Angelus had planned and didn’t like Spike’s version any better than she did Angelus’.



“I would, but with this back injury that you caused, I’m not crawling to the end of the bed and getting one any time soon,” There was harsh laughter in Spike’s voice. If Angelus wanted the Slayer to baby-sit him, he might as well make use of her. Bloody bitch caused my convalescence; she may as well nurse me back to health. He smirked inwardly at all the thoughts that ran through his mind of the Slayer being at his beck and call.



Dalton moved to leave as Buffy retrieved a bag of blood for Spike and threw it at the blond vampire, slapping him in the chest with a “Here’s your damn blood, aggra—“ before Dalton shut and locked the door again and scurried toward the safety of his room and locked the door until he was again called upon to check on his master.