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BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
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Reviews:
30
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,310
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Mistress
Author's Notes: This is more of a teaser chappie since we all know essentially what happens. The next chappie will be un-Jossed.
The Mistress
“It’s tonight, tonight, tonight…” Angelus babbled as he examined his hand-drawn tarot cards. Rather than the typical designs, the cards depicted his favorite images from various books. As the brunette vampire gazed longingly at a sketch of a dark body of water, he chortled with amusement.
Worried by the maddened laughter of her sire, Buffy asked apprehensively, “What’s tonight, love?”
“It’s Saturday night. The Mistress will kill the slayer,” he replied happily, the mahogany pools of his eyes filling with warmth and joy at the thought. For the space of a breath, his tenuous hold on his child slipped, and he saw true horror in her eyes. “What’s wrong, alainn? Don’t you want your prince to be happy?”
“Of course I do, but if the Mistress is here, we could all be in danger,” she answered quickly in the hope of covering for her momentary slip-up. What was wrong with her? She didn’t wish the slayer dead, but she shouldn’t feel so horrid about it.
Angelus clucked his tongue scornfully. “No, no, the Mistress will also die,” he continued, indicating the next card, “only I’m not certain how. I’m so confused… Make it stop.”
“Tell me how! If the Mistress is going to die, tell me how!” the blonde demanded.
Whimpering, he cowered on the bed and covered his ears with his hands, muttering a mindless litany in Gaelic as he rocked himself slowly.
“I’m sorry, love,” Buffy apologized sincerely, drawing him into the haven of her embrace. “It’s just that I get so frustrated sometimes. You know I have a horrible temper, but it isn’t your fault.”
Content with her apology, Angelus nuzzled his childe’s throat affectionately, toying with a lock of her golden hair. When she relaxed completely in his arms, his features shifted quickly, and he buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her throat. He knew that she would never deny him after she had upset him, and he needed to drain her just enough to keep her from going to help the nasty slayer.
Buffy, as Angelus had predicted, made no attempt to stop him from drinking from her. He needed her blood to heal, and she had hurt him with her words. In letting him drink from her, she could mend the small rift between them, and she would be forgiven. Her eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into a faint.
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“There’s still time,” Giles insisted, scrubbing at his glasses frantically as he glanced between Drusilla and his son. “You could leave town straight away, Drusilla could get you out.”
“It’s a soddin’ prophecy. I’m gonna die, and I’d just as soon not take Dru with me,” the slayer retorted.
“Listen to your father,” the vampire pleaded. Days before, William had seemed frightened by the prophecy, but now he was almost… eager. It was true, then, that every slayer had a death wish.
Spike dragged a hand over his face and kicked the table in frustration. “What part of ‘ancient-never-been-wrong-before-prophecy’ do you not understand, Dru?! I am gonna bloody die tonight one way or another, so I’m goin’ out with a fight.”
“Have you something resembling a plan?” she asked worriedly.
“Yeah. Don’t fall on this.” With a wry smile, he offered Drusilla a wooden stake. “I go in, you cover me. Hopefully, I’ll take this bitch down with me.” It wasn’t the real plan, but it was what he thought his father needed to hear.
Giles, however, didn’t care whether or not William had a plan or not. As far as he was concerned, his son was going to leave town even if he needed to be dragged away kicking and screaming. “William, for God’s sake, if you do this…”
“I’ll die. I know. Stop treating me like a bloody child,” the slayer said wearily. “I just want it over with.”
“You are a child,” Drusilla protested.
“You’re my child.”
“Dad, I…” The only warning was the sudden clenching of the slayer’s fist as he punched his father in the face with enough force to knock the man unconscious. Catching him before he fell, Spike lowered him to the floor and turned his glance to Drusilla. “When he wakes up… think of something cool. Tell him I said it.”
The vampire paid no mind to the fact that Spike had knocked his father out; she was too worried for him. “I’m going with you.”
“No, stay. I have a feelin’ he’ll need you here. Whatever happens, I’m gonna die. Think of it as my last request. I don’t want to die with you… I don’t want you to see it,” he said almost shyly.
Tears in her eyes, Drusilla nodded her understanding and kissed him gently. “Go, I’ll watch him.”
“Protect him, Dru, and when you see Harris and Red, tell ‘em I said thanks. Tell they’ve been great.”
“And what shall I tell myself?”
“Tell yourself that… that you were the best thing that ever happened to a ponce like me.”
“Go before I change my mind.”
“Right, then… I’m gone.” Black leather billowing in his wake, the slayer courageously strode from the library without so much as a second glance. It was his time to die, and in leaving Drusilla behind, he could spare his father and his friends when the school was attacked. He knew how the night would end, and for once, he felt no fear.
The Mistress
“It’s tonight, tonight, tonight…” Angelus babbled as he examined his hand-drawn tarot cards. Rather than the typical designs, the cards depicted his favorite images from various books. As the brunette vampire gazed longingly at a sketch of a dark body of water, he chortled with amusement.
Worried by the maddened laughter of her sire, Buffy asked apprehensively, “What’s tonight, love?”
“It’s Saturday night. The Mistress will kill the slayer,” he replied happily, the mahogany pools of his eyes filling with warmth and joy at the thought. For the space of a breath, his tenuous hold on his child slipped, and he saw true horror in her eyes. “What’s wrong, alainn? Don’t you want your prince to be happy?”
“Of course I do, but if the Mistress is here, we could all be in danger,” she answered quickly in the hope of covering for her momentary slip-up. What was wrong with her? She didn’t wish the slayer dead, but she shouldn’t feel so horrid about it.
Angelus clucked his tongue scornfully. “No, no, the Mistress will also die,” he continued, indicating the next card, “only I’m not certain how. I’m so confused… Make it stop.”
“Tell me how! If the Mistress is going to die, tell me how!” the blonde demanded.
Whimpering, he cowered on the bed and covered his ears with his hands, muttering a mindless litany in Gaelic as he rocked himself slowly.
“I’m sorry, love,” Buffy apologized sincerely, drawing him into the haven of her embrace. “It’s just that I get so frustrated sometimes. You know I have a horrible temper, but it isn’t your fault.”
Content with her apology, Angelus nuzzled his childe’s throat affectionately, toying with a lock of her golden hair. When she relaxed completely in his arms, his features shifted quickly, and he buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her throat. He knew that she would never deny him after she had upset him, and he needed to drain her just enough to keep her from going to help the nasty slayer.
Buffy, as Angelus had predicted, made no attempt to stop him from drinking from her. He needed her blood to heal, and she had hurt him with her words. In letting him drink from her, she could mend the small rift between them, and she would be forgiven. Her eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into a faint.
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“There’s still time,” Giles insisted, scrubbing at his glasses frantically as he glanced between Drusilla and his son. “You could leave town straight away, Drusilla could get you out.”
“It’s a soddin’ prophecy. I’m gonna die, and I’d just as soon not take Dru with me,” the slayer retorted.
“Listen to your father,” the vampire pleaded. Days before, William had seemed frightened by the prophecy, but now he was almost… eager. It was true, then, that every slayer had a death wish.
Spike dragged a hand over his face and kicked the table in frustration. “What part of ‘ancient-never-been-wrong-before-prophecy’ do you not understand, Dru?! I am gonna bloody die tonight one way or another, so I’m goin’ out with a fight.”
“Have you something resembling a plan?” she asked worriedly.
“Yeah. Don’t fall on this.” With a wry smile, he offered Drusilla a wooden stake. “I go in, you cover me. Hopefully, I’ll take this bitch down with me.” It wasn’t the real plan, but it was what he thought his father needed to hear.
Giles, however, didn’t care whether or not William had a plan or not. As far as he was concerned, his son was going to leave town even if he needed to be dragged away kicking and screaming. “William, for God’s sake, if you do this…”
“I’ll die. I know. Stop treating me like a bloody child,” the slayer said wearily. “I just want it over with.”
“You are a child,” Drusilla protested.
“You’re my child.”
“Dad, I…” The only warning was the sudden clenching of the slayer’s fist as he punched his father in the face with enough force to knock the man unconscious. Catching him before he fell, Spike lowered him to the floor and turned his glance to Drusilla. “When he wakes up… think of something cool. Tell him I said it.”
The vampire paid no mind to the fact that Spike had knocked his father out; she was too worried for him. “I’m going with you.”
“No, stay. I have a feelin’ he’ll need you here. Whatever happens, I’m gonna die. Think of it as my last request. I don’t want to die with you… I don’t want you to see it,” he said almost shyly.
Tears in her eyes, Drusilla nodded her understanding and kissed him gently. “Go, I’ll watch him.”
“Protect him, Dru, and when you see Harris and Red, tell ‘em I said thanks. Tell they’ve been great.”
“And what shall I tell myself?”
“Tell yourself that… that you were the best thing that ever happened to a ponce like me.”
“Go before I change my mind.”
“Right, then… I’m gone.” Black leather billowing in his wake, the slayer courageously strode from the library without so much as a second glance. It was his time to die, and in leaving Drusilla behind, he could spare his father and his friends when the school was attacked. He knew how the night would end, and for once, he felt no fear.