(no subject)
TITLE: Makes Us Stronger
RATING: Upper PG for language
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SUMMARY: After Giles and Faith's arrival, some loose ends are tied up and some relationships are tested.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series.
In order: As Aught of Mortal Birth, Til The Moon Is Abed, Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, Visitation, After the Storm, In The Name Of, In The Air, then this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Herbert/Spike, Buffy/Vittorio, Dawn/von Krolock, misc. referenced/implied.
WORDS: 13972
NOTES: Like the previous Carpe Noctem chapter, this one has been sitting, half-finished for ages. I kept forgetting it had gone unposted, because I'd read and re-read it so often without ever finishing the final scenes. Plus, it kept getting bigger and bigger. And had to be split into two parts. Am looking forward to retreating to a short prequel now.
*waves a tiny fist in the direction of bwinter* Grr!
__________________________________
Dragged back through the house, Herbert could feel blood staining the collar of his shirt almost as intensely as he could feel the steely grip on his arm. He had - obedient to William’s wishes - returned to his room, but at the sight of something exploding rather impressively, curiosity had gotten the better of him.
Admittedly, he had hardly expected the response he had received.
“William…” he murmured.
The fingers tightened on his upper arm, steering him forcefully - yet still, he noticed, with gentleness so as not to strain his injuries - along the corridor, which lead to his own bedroom, a level below William’s.
The door was flung open and William released his arm, jerking his head to the cloud-darkened interior. “In.”
Out of habit, fascinated by this domineering character his lover was showing, Herbert hesitated, prodding the boundaries that William was laying out. Grey eyes met blue and he saw the warning flare of gold.
“In.” William repeated the single word softly, calmly. “Don’t make me ask again.”
There it was again, the low, dangerous, quiet tone that caused a delightful shiver run the length of his spine and made him feel almost giddy.
Without further question, he stepped into the room, a palm at the base of his back steering him forward.
Behind them, the door closed like the crack of doom and he felt the pleasant press of an arm around his waist. “You,” a voice said softly, little more than a whisper. “Are going to your bed and you’re going to stay there until you’re better, understood?”
“You must understand I was concer...” A hand closed over his mouth and he felt the lips against his ear, his eyes closing.
“Shut up, Herbie,” William murmured. “Just nod. You’re going to bed and you’re staying there. Understood?”
Nodding, Herbert could not resist the impulse to nip on one of the fingers that was covering his mouth. He felt the smile against his throat and the squeeze of the arm at his waist in response.
“Clothes off.”
“Ah...”
There was a brief, fond lick against the still-seeping bite that adorned his throat. “Let me guess.” He was turned around, William’s hands moving down the front of his shirt, deftly unbuttoning it. “You managed to strain something, didn’t you?”
Grey eyes met blue with a hint of mischief. “If I said no, would you stop undressing me?” he asked.
With an eloquent roll of his eyes, William pushed Herbert’s shirt off his shoulders, drawing it down Herbert’s arms and letting it fall on the floor behind him. “Can’t make things simple, can you, you dopey poof?” he said, though he leaned closer and kissed Herbert fondly.
Trying to pull William closer, Herbert winced at sudden pressure on his ribs and wished that the pain hadn’t taken him so much by surprise. It was enough to make William step back and frown more deeply.
“On the bed,” he said briskly.
With a petulant sound, Herbert complied, sitting slowly on the edge of the mattress. As much as he was loath to admit it, it was better that William had told him to do so, because his chest was aching.
With a swift care that seemed beyond him, William stripped away the bandages that had been meticulously wound around Herbert’s ribs, kneeling between his lover’s feet as he did so.
“You stupid bugger,” he muttered as the final strip peeled away.
Herbert winced when he looked down. “I didn’t suppose I would bruise so much,” he admitted, air hissing between his teeth when William gently touched certain points of his skin. “That hurts, you idiot!”
“Tell me again, Herbie, which idiot got out of his bed and aggravated his broken ribs?” William retorted sharply, blue eyes flashing. “You’ve gone and knocked it out of alignment. No wonder you’re in bloody pain!”
His hands spread on Herbert’s ribcage and Herbert swore loudly and colourfully.
“Oh, shut up!” William’s snarl startled him to silence.
There was a fluid crackling noise, accompanied by a blaze of pain, then Herbert became embarrassingly aware that he was lying flat on his back on the bed, admiring the canopy and not entirely able to recall going from vertical to horizontal.
The mattress shifted under him and he felt those same hands moving more gently now, replacing the bandages and drawing them taut against his skin. “This time,” he heard William say. “You’re staying put. You move again, I’ll break your bloody legs and leave you here until your ribs fixed.”
“You would do that too, wouldn’t you?” Herbert murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at William.
“Got a sledge-hammer all picked out and everything.” William didn’t look at him, attentively re-wrapping the bandages. Occasionally, sandy hair fell in front of his eyes and was hastily shaken back, but other than that, his focus, his utter dedication to the task at hand was astounding.
Watching him, Herbert felt a smile trip across his lips, in spite of the lingering pain in his torso. “You’re quite the ruthless little darling, aren’t you?” He reached out to touch William’s knee lightly.
“Only when I have a masochistic arse to watch out for,” William finally looked at him and the genuine concern in the blue eyes stole Herbert’s breath away. “Don’t like to see what’s mine hurting.” One side of his mouth quirked wryly. “Bit like you, really, but I don’t go Slayer-bashing to make myself feel better.”
“But that was such fun, cheri,” Herbert murmured.
For a moment, William looked reproving, then he reluctantly grinned. “Yeah, it is a bit of fun having a go at a Slayer, innit?” he said. “Had a gay old time with... er...” He frowned thoughtfully. “Six? Don’t think you count the wannabes...”
Gently, he slid his arms under Herbert’s body and shifted him onto the middle of the bed. A moment later, Herbert winced only slightly when his trousers were pulled off and tossed off the end of the bed.
Arranging pillows around and just beneath Herbert’s ribs, William leaned over him to smooth his hair on the pillow, ensuring that - even while he was in pain - his vanity was pampered.
“If you stay still...” His lips were so close to Herbert’s that Herbert could feel every syllable. The wounded vampire’s eyes closed, a shudder of desire running through his body. “You’ll be up and about in no time.”
That, however, was when cold metal snapped around his wrists, grey eyes flying open and staring at the grinning William with nothing short of surprise and annoyance all over his face.
“What...?”
“You really weren’t listening, were you?” William clambered to the end of the bed, cheerfully shackling Herbert’s ankles to the opposite posts, leaving his lover spread-eagled helplessly in the middle of the bed. “Told you I’d chain you to the bed if you didn’t stay put.”
Tugging futilely at the chains, caught in his own favourite snare, Herbert threw an imploring look up at his lover. “William, I promise I shall stay here.”
“Too late for that, Herbie.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, William leaned over him and kissed him.
Despite his annoyance, despite biting William’s tongue in grumbling reprimand, despite wrinkling his nose and hissing, Herbert tried to rise into the kiss, growling in frustration when the taut chains restrained him.
“I told your father you would be back in shape,” William said, pulling back. “And you will be, even if I have to leave you here to recover.” He stood up, tilting his head to let his eyes rove over Herbert’s body, naked but for the bandages. “Pity.”
“William, if you leave me like this...”
“All for your own good, love,” William’s eyes were dancing. “Get some rest.”
Turning, he wandered over to the door, whistling jauntily.
“William!”
Glancing back, the younger vampire’s brows rose. “Yep?”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
William’s grin was thoroughly wicked. “Well, with you looking like that, all trussed and at my mercy and not to be touched until you’re all right as rain... thought I’d go for a wank...” Grey eyes flashed. “What?”
“If you walk out that door, I swear you’ll regret it when I get out of these things, you treacherous little bastard!”
Pulling the door wide, William’s grin only widened. “Looking forward to it,” he said, then blew a kiss and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
______________________________
“Yes, it would explain that too... I’ll be sure to send your regards...”
Sitting on one of the couches, legs kicked out in front of her, arms bent up so she could grip the back of the couch, Faith watched the other occupants of the room as they watched Giles talking on his phone.
Always liked seeing what everyone else was thinking, when they didn’t think she was looking.
All of ‘em might have been looking at G, but for damn sure, not a one of them cared what he was saying. They were all paying way too much attention to how much they weren’t saying or doing anything to each other.
Even B and V weren’t as cosy as usual, sitting side-by-side on another couch. They were by the huge mother of a fireplace, hogging all the heat now that the storm had hit and rain was pissing down against the windows.
Despite how close her boytoy was sitting, B’s focus seemed to be on the uber-vamp, the one that everyone was shitting bricks over. So far, he hadn’t bitten anyone, so Faith figured he was okay for now.
Knowing B, it was a vamp thing. Maybe she’d started liking the cold after Fang and Fang the Second.
The Vamp-king-guy was sitting in a high-backed chair, but somehow, even though he was facing the fire, she couldn’t see his face. It was like he’d pulled the shadows around him and hell, maybe he could. All she could see of him was the faint glitter of watching eyes and the pale hands folded in his lap.
Little D was standing over by one of the windows, looking out at the sky and acting like nothing was going on.
The only person who didn’t look like they gave a shit about anything was the freaky-ass blue demon-thing. It was standing several feet from the vamp-king’s seat, hands by its side, head tilted as if it was watching everything. Look wicked weird, with those big eyes and pretty little face that she remembered being pinker and dorkier.
What had vamp-2 called her? Liria? Illya? Something like that?
Ah, well, she’d be Blue. Had a Red already, might as well have a Blue too.
A grin crossed Faith’s lips. Hell, get Red and Blue together with the girl-lovin’ and you could have a litter of little lesborn Purples too.
From the window, there was a snort of amusement. Tilting her head to peer around one of her arms, Faith saw Dawn throw a smile at the big-chief-vamp on his fancy seat and saw the glittering eyes looking back at her.
Huh.
Turning her attention back to chief-vamp, she squinted at the shadows around his face, trying to see what had set Dawn giggling, but all she got was more shadows and a more focussed glimmer.
A quiet snap from Giles indicated that his phone call had ended, so she switched her expression to attentive-good-slayer and sat up a bit straighter.
“Red keepin’ things right?”
“As always,” Giles replied, slipping his phone into his pocket. He looked over at the fancy-vamp. “I apologise again for the intrusion, Excellency.”
“Nonsense,” The chief vamp rose from his seat and Faith could have sworn it was like he had taken a mask off. It was like there had never been any darkness around him in the first place. “Your concerns for your charge brought you here. Had anything happened to my son, I assure you my response would have been the same.”
Beside B, Faith saw Vittorio stiffen, staring at his clasped hands. “Will Herbert be all right, Eccellenza?” he asked quietly.
When the uber-vamp looked at him, Vittorio’s chin rose as if it was being forced up, and Faith coulda sworn that the Immortal flinched when he raised his eyes to the vampire’s darker ones.
Huh.
Whoda thunk that B’s super-boy could be taken down by a fancy-pants vamp?
“Have you asked him that question, Immortal?”
Despite herself, Faith found she was sitting up a little bit straighter, startled by the way his deep, growl of a voice seemed to go straight from ear to crotch in one pulsing murmur. Hot damn.
Looking like V felt the same, his face averting from the vamp-lord’s. “I did not mean him any harm, Milord,” he said faintly, quietly.
“Think the wall you threw him at stands as evidence to the contrary,” Spike’s voice reached them as the vampire appeared in the doorway. “Got to learn to control that temper of yours, Vitto, old man. Might piss someone off.”
The uber-vamp didn’t look around, but he did tilt his head slightly. “William?”
“All patched up and taken care of, Sir.” Spike approached the vamp-lord, stopping beside him and staring down with equal coldness at B’s boytoy. “He’s a bit tied up at the moment, but he’ll be up and about later.”
Faith’s eyebrows headed skywards when the vamp-lord reached out and laid a hand against the back of Spike’s neck and Spike closed his eyes, a shiver running through him, like he was...
Again with the huh.
Spike doing the chief vamp’s kid and the chief vamp?
She glanced at Vittorio, who looked like he was trying way hard not to look, then at B, who was looking at Vitto trying not to look, then at the vamp-lord, who was watching Vitto too, as his fingers caressed the nape of the sighing Spike’s neck.
Damn.
So, that was what crazy sexual tension looked like, huh?
“Johannes.” From behind Faith’s couch, Dawn sounded like she was about to bust something laughing. “You’re doing it again.”
When the uber-vamp lifted his hand from Spike’s neck, it felt like some kind of weird grip on the room vanished, and the uber-vamp chuckled, returning to his seat and elegantly sinking into it, cloak settling about him like a pool of shadow.
Wandering from behind the couch, Dawn went and stood beside the uber-vamp’s chair, leaning against the high back, one arm dangling over the top of it. Spike went and stood on the other side, making them look kinda like two skinny-ass bodyguards.
Faith cocked her head, staring at them.
Dawn’s fingers were moving, just a little twitch, but damn! If she didn’t twitch ‘em just right and stroke the big uber-vamp’s hair...
And didn’t she just go on the first-name thing with him? Even Faith never went on a first-name thing with... no, Faith didn’t even go on a name thing half the time. All came down to what the guy did to make himself memorable.
One side of her mouth curved up.
So, wasn’t just B who went for the real stiffs, huh? Maybe it was a Summers thing.
Personally, if she’d had the choice, blondie would have been it. Not Spike, for sure, as cute as he was, because going with B’s cast-offs just screamed desperate, but the other one, Spike’s ho-boy; he was worth a look. Sharp suit, pretty face, nice ass.
Not that she was even thinking about it, because hey! One Slayer jumping undead bones was enough for the Council. Didn’t wanna get the girls thinking that they were Vampire Layers instead of Slayers.
“Herbert okay?” Dawn glanced over at Spike, who nodded.
“Silly arse pulled his rib back out of place,” he replied, and Faith could see the smile trying to get onto his face. Damn, the boy had it bad. Made B’s big old crush on Vitto look like a one-time glance.
Speaking of...
Shooting a look over at B, she could see that B was rigid on her seat, watching the trio gathered at the other chair. V wasn’t even touching her, which was a first. They were always touching, those two, hand-holding and all kindsa sappy crap.
“So, what’s the plan, G?” Pulling her attention from the other Slayer, Faith looked up at Giles, who was rubbing a hand wearily over his face. “Red sending us another ride or do we gotta walk?”
“I’m afraid it will be a day or two until any transport will become available,” Giles said tiredly. “And I doubt that we would all be able to fit into Buffy’s car.”
“Yeah,” Hazel eyes looked up at him apologetically. “It’s just a two-seater, Giles. I didn’t think we’d need more.”
“Uh...” Dawn waved a hand, drawing all attention back to her. “Buffy, I still have your convertible, if you wanna take it.” Faith saw Dawn’s sister tense up. “I mean, if I need to, I bet Herbert’ll lend me one of his cars.”
Spike snorted. “Nibs, you’ve got more chance of shagging him than ever getting your grubby mitts on his motors.”
“Yeah?” A thoughtful look crossed lil D’s face. “Wanna make a bet on that?”
Spike’s brows rose and he threw a grin at her. “I’d take it,” he said. “But don’t want to embarrass you, love.”
Seriously, Faith wondered, staring at them, what the hell was up with this house? B and V being quiet? Spike being way chipper and happy? Little D walking round like she owned the place?
Dawn made a face at him, then looked at her sister. “Seriously, you can have your car back,” she said. “I’m gonna stay here anyway, and if I need to get to you in a hurry, the guys have all kindsa contacts.”
“We...” Buffy looked up, looking way too wigged. “We were hoping you might want to come home for a while, Dawnie.”
Old-school Dawnie would have glared or stomped her foot or yelled at B for trying to run her life, but this Dawnie... no, this was Dawn, no half-pint kidlet here... she just looked right back at B and smiled, shaking her head.
“I’m staying,” she said. “I told you that. The Graf’s teaching me way more than any school could and hey! You need someone as reference to check the books here when you can’t find anything on your end.”
“The collection has been incredibly helpful,” Giles reminded them quietly, his voice making B jump, like she’d totally forgotten he was there while she was staring up at her kid-sister.
“Yeah,” the other Slayer said with a weak, half-smile. “But I miss having my sister around at home.”
That made D’s expression falter. “Huh?”
“The apartment’s way too quiet without you around,” B said with a tiny shrug. She looked way tired, now that Faith looked close. “Don’t have anyone to blame when it looks like demons invaded.”
Dawn was staring now, looking more than a sight confused. “But we hardly ever saw each other anyway,” she argued. “You were always running all over the place and I was at school...”
“And now, I only see you when I can get all the way out here,” B said quietly. “You never even said you would visit.”
Over the top of the chair, Spike was watching Dawn. He looked way worried, but the chief uber-vamp didn’t look like he had noticed the distress on Dawn’s face. His gaze was fixed on the blonde Slayer, his hands folded before him.
“I figured you were busy,” Dawn’s voice was uncertain now. “You’ve got all the Slayers to work with. I thought I’d be in the way.”
“But you...”
“Would you interfere with her studies?” the Graf spoke suddenly, but it was said in such a calm, measured way that it didn’t sound like he was interrupting anything. His dark eyes caught B like a rabbit in the headlights. “Your sister is my student. Would you disrupt her thus?”
Buffy blinked, though it looked like she was having to concentrate to do it. “She’s all the family I have,” B said slowly, carefully, as if every word was an effort. “I miss having her around.”
The Graf inclined his head slowly. “It is as you say,” he murmured. “But this is her choice, Slayer. She has much to learn and a willingness to study, which is rare. I would not see this shattered for the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?” B’s voice was trembling, and Faith could see her hands curl into fists. Oh, B was getting pissed off. “It’s family.”
“Buffy, don’t...”
“Dawnie, it’s true!”
Dawn down stared at her, then turned and walked towards the door. Spike looked at the uber-vamp, who touched his arm lightly, and Spike nodded at once, running after her.
Following the younger vampire with her eyes, Blue turned and stalked out after him, like she didn’t care what happened to anyone else in the room. Huh. His own crazy demon bodyguard. Cute.
Looking back at B and the uber-vamp, Faith could have sworn she could see and hear the sparks crackling between them and not in the way that meant all-around good boot-knockin’ fun.
“Vittorio, could you maybe show Faith and Giles around?”
Faith’s eyebrows shot skywards. So that was the way things were gonna go? She and Giles were gonna be forced out of seeing B trying to lay a smackdown on the uber-vamp?
“B...”
Vittorio had already risen and was moving towards her. “I believe it would be wiser if we left them,” he said quietly. She could see he was trying not to look over at B and wondered if there was more to him and the Graf-guy than just tension.
Pushing herself onto her feet, she shrugged. “Whatever.” She glanced over at Giles, who had moved to stand behind the couch Buffy was sitting on. “G, you comin’ for the tour?”
“I think not,” Giles reached out and laid a hand on B’s shoulder.
“Giles.”
“I’m staying,” he said, then nodded to Faith and Vittorio. “I shall see you later about travel arrangements.”
With a last glance at the ubervamp and B, Faith shrugged again and let Vittorio lead her towards the door, one hand on her upper arm. “Sure. Got plenty to see,” she replied. “Don’t break too much.”
If there was a reply, she didn’t hear it.
__________________________
Leaning against Dawn’s door, Spike sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Nibs, but we’re about if you want to have a chat, okay?” From within the room, there was no reply. “And if you need a laugh, have a peek into Herbie’s room.”
When she didn’t reply, he pushed off from the door and glanced at Illyria who was watching him from the end of the hall.
“This mortal is important to you.”
He nodded, walking towards her. “She’s a good girl,” he said. “And she was having such a good week as well.” With a sigh, he pushed his hand through his hair. “Don’t think the Graf’ll be letting her go, even if Buffy tries to fight him for her.”
“She is his.” The flat statement of it, especially from Illyria, made the vampire grin ruefully, and he nodded. “That is why I am not permitted to destroy her and purge the mortals from this house.”
“That’s why you wandered off on your tod?”
“Your speech is strange to me,” Illyria frowned.
“You went away for months, pet,” Spike corrected. “Didn’t know where you were.”
Illyria gazed at him for some time. “I witnessed the arrival of your morsel,” she said slowly, carefully. “I recalled Wesley and Charles. Their bodies failed them and they died. It caused strange sensations within me. I did not... appreciate this. I do not wish to witness such a thing again.”
Spike stared at her, unable to speak for several minutes. “You stayed away because of Dawn?” he asked dazedly. “You don’t want to see anyone die again, so you stayed away rather than meet the Niblet?”
Illyria’s blue eyes fixed on his face. “Her loss would cause you grief also.”
“Well, yeah...”
“One day, she will die.” It was said flatly, emotionlessly. “I do not wish to know her, because I know this will come to pass.”
“Pet, if you spend the rest of your life with that thinking, then you’ll be on your own a hell of a lot,” Spike said with a frown. “And the Niblet has a long time ahead of her anyway.”
Illyria’s expression didn’t change, but he could see she was thinking. “You hold on to those who will die before you ever will, when you know it will cause you to feel hurt and anger,” she observed. “Is this humanity?”
The vampire shrugged. “Dunno, love, but whatever it is, it’s what we do.” He started to walk down the hall and she fell into step beside him. “Can’t imagine not having Nibs around.”
“She will remain, then?”
“You said it yourself,” Spike glanced at her. “She’s his. He’s not about to let her go without blood.”
“Then,” Illyria said gravely, nodding. “I shall know this mortal. Humanity repels me, but I find myself... curious.”
The vampire threw a grin her way. “Wouldn’t mind having you around again, y’know, Blue,” he admitted as they approached the staircase. “Missed having you about and I know Dawn’ll have a hundred and one questions for you.”
“And speaking of questions,” A female voice spoke from one flight down, and Spike stopped dead at the sight of the dark-haired Slayer. “When the hell were you gonna tell us that D had gone and got herself an uber-vamp sex toy?”
Beside her, Vittorio went rigid. “Who...?”
“Baby, I watch people,” Faith gave the immortal a condescending look. “So, Spike, you gonna spill?”
Eyeing the Slayer, Spike’s eyes gleamed speculatively. “You got fags?”
“Nope, just Vitto,” Faith replied with a wicked smile that reduced the vampire to snickering. “You want one?”
“Trade you answers for them,” he said. “Blue, you want to keep Slayer-One’s boy company for a bit?”
“I can manage myself, thank you,” Vittorio said, his voice tense.
“Not asking, Mister-Trigger-Happy,” Spike said, hopping lightly down the stairs. “I don’t think the boss would be thrilled if I left you on the loose after you knocked Herbie senseless.”
Vittorio looked both aggrieved and angry. “I would not assault him again.”
A fist caught his shirt and yanked him forward. “Fucking right you wouldn’t,” Spike said quietly, coldly. “You even breathe the wrong way around him and you’ll be wearing your guts on the outside.” He glanced back at Illyria. “Ducks, I know you’re not a big fan of pillocks with their heads up their arses, but can you keep an eye on this twat for me?”
Pushing Spike’s hand away, Vittorio’s expression was icy. “You have no place in my argument with Johannes,” he said quietly.
Slowly, Spike started to grin and he released Vittorio’s shirt, wandering down the last two steps to join Faith on the landing. “Mate, if you think you can still call him that, you’re talking out your arse,” he said. “C’mon, Slayer. Blue?”
“Should this one breathe incorrectly, I shall tear his ribs from his chest and pin him to the walls with them.”
With a wistful sigh, Spike started down the hall, Faith striding alongside him. “God, I love that demon,” he said with a fond smile.
_____________________
“You have no right to make her stay!”
Still seated calmly where he had been, von Krolock watched the Slayer pacing back and forth in front of the mantlepiece. His gaze rested on her face, his fingertips pressed lightly together.
“This is Dawn’s decision,” he said quietly. “You cannot force her hand, nor can I. She will choose what she wishes.”
“She’s just a child!”
Von Krolock let one brow rise slightly, and he was amused to see the Slayer bristle as if he had struck out at her in some way. “Your sister has not been a child for many years, Miss Summers,” he said softly. “One only needs to talk with her to know she is old beyond her years.”
“She’s still a teenager,” the Slayer glared at him bitterly.
“Her age means nothing.” Von Krolock’s murmur was mellifluous and, to any other, would have been soothing. He could, however, see that every syllable was grating on this Slayer’s senses like nails against a board. “She is so much more and has done so much more.”
“And what do you mean by that? Huh?” The tiny blonde whirled on him with the fury of a storm, hands propped on her hips and hazel eyes flashing with a fire he had seen so many times in his own lover.
“I merely suggest that you allow her the freedom she deserves,” von Krolock replied evenly, the embodiment of decorum. Inwardly, however, he longed for the impetuous brat of a child to lash out at him, that he might teach her the meaning of respect.
“Buffy,” the Watcher murmured, approaching her. “Dawn does seem to be quite happy here.”
“Yeah, because some evil vampire is making her like it here.” The Slayer’s voice was shrill with emotion. “I’ve seen what the older vampires can do, Giles. Just because this one has helped us with books and stuff...” She turned away sharply, wrapping her arms over her chest. “Is it so bad that I want my sister where she’ll be safe?”
“You infer she would not be safe here?” Von Krolock was impressed that his voice remained calm and level.
The Slayer turned to stare at him, the coldness in her eyes speaking measures. “I know she thinks you’re all that,” she replied. “But I’ve been fighting your kind since I was younger than she is. I know vampires turn on people who trust them.”
He caught her eyes, caught the tendrils of memory, gazed at her steadily. With her anger baring her emotions, she was utterly open to him, a book to be studied at his leisure, and as easily as finding a marked page, he saw what he sought.
“There are exceptions in every situation,” he observed quietly, nodding slightly when the watcher caught the girl’s shoulders gently. “You do not trust me, because others have broken your trust. You believe I will do the same to Dawn.”
Hazel eyes flashed with emotions more than anger. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“When I invited her to remain.” Von Krolock rose smoothly, standing over the tiny blonde warrior. “I made the promise to her that I would not pretend to be anything other than that which I am. My honour forbids me to break such an oath.”
The girl snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Abruptly, he caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes ice-cold and hard as diamond. “Do not question my honour, Slayer,” he said softly, his voice deadly. “Vampire I may be, evil also, murderer many times over, but I still have my honour.”
She glared at him defiantly, but made no argument.
“I’m sure you understand Buffy’s concerns, your Excellency,” the Watcher said from behind the Slayer, when von Krolock released her chin. “Dawn is her sister and she naturally wishes to protect her.”
Resuming his seat, von Krolock nodded diplomatically. “But there is a fine line between protection and suffocating,” he murmured. “She finds she is able to do as she likes here, rather than hiding her intentions and true feelings, lest they cause you - any of you - distress. Here, she can feel as she truly feels.”
“Oh and I bet you were real happy to help her with those feelings.”
“Buffy...”
“No, Giles! This... vampire has brainwashed her! Would Dawnie ever willingly hang out with a soulless demon back home?” Apparently, her Watcher’s silence was more indicative than anything her might have said. “Giles?”
“She did,” he said. “Frequently.” He gazed at her solemnly. “And, more often than not, he was her constant companion.”
Von Krolock felt the amusement rise within him. “William, I trust?”
“Spike,” the Slayer replied, a sharpness in her words suggesting more recent hurts than the memory he had touched upon.
“I knew him before that name was claimed,” von Krolock said softly. He could see the Watcher’s intrigue, could sense it in the air. “She knew our world far more than you could know, Slayer. Perhaps, that is why she stays.”
“She should come home!”
Black eyes captured hazel, gazing at her with a quiet intensity. “Why is it so important to you, Slayer?”
“She needs to be safe!”
Von Krolock slowly shook his head. “Why?” he repeated, the harmonics in his voice changing just enough. “Why would you tear her from the place where she is happy and learning? Why would you pull her from her friends?”
He could see her fighting against him, against the response, against the power he had edged his voice with. “She should be with me.”
“Why?” She was shaking and white-faced, staring defiantly at him, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. “Tell me.”
“B-because she’s mine,” the words slipped between bloodless lips. “You can’t take her... not like Spike... or Vittorio...” He was unsurprised to see her eyes shining with tears. “She’s mine.”
Without seeming to move, he was standing before her again, gazing at her. One hand rose and he felt her shiver as he caught an escaping tear from her flushed cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shudder running through her.
“Miss Summers,” he said softly. “Look at me.”
Her reluctance was as fierce as her anger had been, and he knew he had tapped the source; grief, loneliness, hurt, guilt and a dozen other emotions had compounded into jealous and possessive rage.
Slowly, so slowly, hazel eyes opened, looked up at him.
His knuckles touched her cheek, light as a breeze.
“No matter if she stays or if she returns with you,” he said gently. “She will always be yours, by blood and by love.” He held her gaze, his voice low, persuasive. “All I ask is that you do not drive her from you or give her cause to hate you by forcing her to do what you would wish, rather than what she would wish.”
“She’s so young...”
Von Krolock nodded in quiet agreement. “She is, but she is strong and she is ready to test the world. Do not bind her and hold her back. Let her choose and she will love you the more for it.”
Her indecision pulsed against his senses as strongly as her heartbeat.
With the utmost gentleness, he directed her back, to her Watcher’s protection. “I shall say nothing further to sway you,” he said, then lifted his eyes to the man, who was watching him with wary and intrigued bewilderment. “Take care of your Slayer, Watcher. I must see to my own child.”
“Of... of course,” the man said, laying his hands on the Slayer’s shoulders.
Without giving the Slayer another glance, von Krolock turned away and strode across the room, aware of the disorientated emotion he was leaving in his wake, a subtle smile catching the corner of his mouth.
Behind him, he heard the Slayer’s dazed voice mumble, “Giles, what is he?”
_________________________
The rain had reduced itself to drizzle, but the sky was still grey and Spike and the Slayer took shelter on one of the balconies on the middle level of the manor to avoid the chill.
“Hand it on, ducks.” A pale hand unfolded in front of her. A cigarette and lighter were clapped into his palm and he lit up, inhaling a coil of smoke like it was ambrosia from heaven itself. “God, that’s good...”
“Been a while, huh?”
“Not got much in the way of local shops, hereabouts,” Spike replied, sitting down against the wall, beside the doorway. Taking another drag, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “So, what you got figured?”
Sitting down beside him, snatching her lighter back and lighting her own cigarette, the Slayer blew a stream of smoke towards the upper level.
“You and goldielocks are on and happenin’ in the more-than-fuckbuddies way,” she said with confidence. One blue eye cracked open. “Buddy, you’re doing the happy-glow thing. Ain’t seen that in... well... ever.”
“One point to Slayer,” the vampire grinned around his cigarette. “And...?”
“Little D has got it on in a heavy way with the uber-vamp.” Tapping ash from the end of the cigarette, she examined the glowing tip thoughtfully. “But this is where I get kinda... confused. You get pettings from the uber-vamp and V looks like he would kill for ‘em and D doesn’t give a damn?”
Spike chuckled. “Welcome to the madhouse, love,” he said, tilting his head back against the cool stone. “You stay here long enough without getting knocked off or kicked out and you’re claimed. Old Graf does it the most primal way.” He gradually became aware of the silence and looked sideways at the Slayer, who was staring at him in disbelief. “What?”
“You’re tellin’ me that Graf-guy, the most mannersome vamp I ever did see, screws whoever he likes as a houseguest?”
Spike inhaled so sharply that he almost swallowed his cigarette.
The Slayer’s grin was thoroughly wicked. “That a yeah?”
Coughing up ash, Spike wiped his mouth. “Only if you’re lucky,” he replied, unable to hide his smile. “You saw the look on the ponce’s face. Had a fling with the boss years back and still isn’t over him.”
“He starts tryin’ to hump the big guy’s leg, I’m thinkin’ I’ll need to get me a camera and get some proof...” Faith shook her head. “Wondered what got B wound so tight, but I guess havin’ your boytoy goin’ fanboy on an ubervamp’ll do it every time.”
“Not to mention that she and Herbert had a bit of a fight,” Spike reminded her dryly. “I don’t think the Slayer takes kindly to being smacked about by a pretty boy with better hair.”
Faith’s smile was lop-sided. “She don’t like to lose,” she agreed.
Settling back against the wall, Spike flicked some of the ash from his cigarette. “It’s kept her alive this long.”
“Uh, Fang-2? She died twice, remember?”
The vampire’s eyes closed briefly. “Yeah, she did...” Then he chuckled. “Mind you, been there, done the eaten-by-vampire-death and the flaming-toasty-sacrificial-death thing, but never managed to find a T-shirt.”
The Slayer was quiet for a moment, then he heard her draw a breath, as if she was steeling herself for something. Cracking open one eye, he glanced at her. “What you want to know, Slayer?”
She was staring at the smouldering tip of her cigarette, but it didn’t look like she was really seeing it. “What happened?” she asked quietly. “You were there. You saw what went down.” She looked at him. “Blue... she’s Fred, but not... and you’re here, but no one else...”
Spike felt the muscle in his jaw tense and nodded. “Took on hell,” he replied, his voice quiet, serious. “Angel’s big plan; knock out a huge chunk of the top demons in line for the big apocalypse.”
“Explains why a huge-ass piece of LA looked like a warzone...”
Spike laughed faintly, but his eyes were distant, haunted. “Band of buggered versus an army, love,” he replied sadly. “The band of buggered. Fred was out of it months back. Blue nicked her body.” He drew a trembling drag. “Wesley went out in the first wave. Saw Charlie-boy fighting, but he was cut up before the big showdown started. Bleeding.” Smoke curled from his lips. “And Angel...” He closed his eyes, exhaled. “The stupid son of a bitch took a stake for me.”
“Christ...”
“Could have done with his help,” Spike said softly, looking at his cigarette. “Blue went mental, took out dozens. Knew I was meant to go next. Wanted to take as many as I could.” He laughed faintly, sadly. “Amazing the damage molotov cocktails can do when you toss in some holy water as well. Got a knock on the head from somewhere. Woke up later. Blue had grabbed me. Run. Left them burning.”
“Jesus...”
Blue eyes gazed at her. “Yeah. Glad you weren’t there, Slayer.”
“Wish I coulda helped.”
Spike shook his head. “Nah, Slayer. Getting skewered and toasted isn’t the way to go,” he said. “You done right staying with Buffy. Newbies’ll need all the experienced help they can get. Better you’re around to show ‘em.” He reached out, gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You know the poof wouldn’t have let you come anyway.”
“Still doesn’t mean I don’t regret being there to lay a smackdown on hell’s bitches for him.” He could hear the tremor in her voice. “Jesus, Spike, he... he got me back on my feet, showed me what to do...”
Slipping his arm around her shoulders, Spike pulled her - with only a heartbeat of resistance - against his side. “I know, Slayer,” he said quietly. “Least we can remember that about the silly arse, eh? That and the bloody awful hair.” He heard her faint laugh and laid his cheek against her hair. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but he was all right.”
“He was,” Faith agreed quietly. “Bad hair included.”
_______________________________
“Your anger is futile.”
Ignoring the demon striding behind him, Vittorio stalked through the halls, towards the chamber he presently shared with his lover. He tried to close the door, but her feet slid into the gap and she pushed her way in regardless of his curse.
“I need no warden in my own quarters,” he said coldly.
Solid blue eyes gazed at him neutrally. “Spike said you were to be watched. You have caused discord already. Any other, I would allow, but the Sorcerer’s will and the Sorcerer’s blood will be protected.”
The door was closed firmly behind her, and she let her hands hang loosely by her sides, small, delicate and unthreatening in appearance, yet simply by looking at her, he knew she probably had the capabilities to do him irreparable damage.
Forcing himself to remain calm, he lifted his chin coolly. “What loyalty do you owe one such as the Graf?” he asked, walking across the room and sitting, as if her presence caused him no offence.
“I owe no one loyalty,” the creature replied in that same, flat voice. “The Sorcerer is my guide and Spike is my remaining companion. Should they come to harm, it would cause me displeasure.” She stepped closer to him, silent threat in every gesture. “I would peel the flesh from the bones of any who would cause such displeasure.”
Inclining his head politely, Vittorio had no doubts that she could do precisely as she said. Whatever she was, this was no normal, average demon in human guise.
She was watching him again, those cold, emotionless, unearthly eyes. Her fingers spasmed as if she was trying to restrain herself from lashing out, her head slowly tilting to one side.
Used to being under constant supervision, ever watched, warily and fearfully, to be gazed at with such flat, unyielding emotionless eyes was unsettling, and he found himself avoiding her gaze.
“You might stand outwith my door,” he offered.
“Your fear is unlike the reek of human fear,” she said, moving closer. “Yet it is not my displeasure that you fear.” Her fingers curled and uncurled slowly. “You fear, yet you desire the Sorcerer. Your female knows this. Her anger and despair sours the air, even here.”
Vittorio flinched. Perhaps, it would have been better if she had struck him.
“The Sorcerer has no desire for me any longer,” he admitted.
The demon blinked slowly, as if taking her time, savouring the motion. “Your feeble whimpers bore him,” she said, her head rolling on her shoulders. “Such pitiful longing is lower than the basest of humanity.”
Vittorio felt his innards clench. “We were lovers, once.”
Half-closed blue eyes gazed at him as if he were less than an insect to be studied under a microscope. “You were a lover,” she said. “He was your Master.”
He wanted to protest that she was wrong, wanted to argue against her, wanted to say that they had been equals in an era where his experience still surpassed the young vampire’s by nearly two and a half centuries.
The lie would not take shape on his lips.
Even then, every step of their interaction had been governed by the Graf’s will and his decisions, as unbending as steel, as hard as diamond.
“Your desire is futile,” the demon noted without expression. “Yet, you still cling to him as if he might change his mind and allow you to approach him once more. Such mindless worship is commendable.”
“It is not worship,” he protested softly. “I loved him.”
“What is worship but the hopeless devotion of one creature to one who does not truly care for it?” the demon asked. “I was worshipped for millennia, but never did I profess to love those who gave me their devotion.”
“Love is different,” Vittorio said faintly.
“Sometimes, yes,” the demon said, stepping close and scrutinising him with a cold intensity that made him lean back in his seat. “The shell had love for the one called Wesley. This love was returned a hundred-fold from him. When she was lost to him, this... emotion remained. Even when he died, it was his foremost thought, as he had been the shell’s when I claimed her form.” She canted her head. “Would your thought and feeling be returned by the Sorcerer upon his death?”
He did not, could not respond to that, his chest aching unbearably as if the demon had reached between his ribs and wrenched out his heart. He looked away from her, staring at the misted glass.
“What of your female?”
In the stillness, her voice seemed like an explosion of sound.
Buffy...
Closing his eyes, Vittorio swore softly, under his breath. What had he been doing in fawning over the Graf all over again? They had not seen one another for centuries and with good reason. Why had he become a love-struck fool again when confronted with a face from his past, even when his lover was by his side?
It was she who had dominion in his heart now, had done for months, and when he thought of her, of the way she laughed, of the expression on her face when she tried to pretend she had not burned the pasta, of the way her hair fell against her cheek when she fell asleep in his arms...
“She deserves so much better,” he heard himself say. “And I do not deserve her.”
“In this festering cesspool,” Illyria’s voice was a monotone. “I do not believe better is a choice. I have seen people fight for this emotion, this love, and many of them do not deserve all they have. Why should you deserve or not deserve? If you want it, then you keep it. If not, then you destroy it.” Her expression was distasteful. “It is such a weakness, emotion.”
Vittorio looked up at her, sudden revelation on his face. “It is,” he said softly, “But it is what makes us strong as well. It is what makes us stand, what makes us fight when we know we should lie down and give up.”
“Folly,” Illyria maintained.
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But it can be so much more as well.” He curled his hand, a swirl of light spiralling above his fingertips, his eyes apparently reading something in the flare of light that the demon could not see. “It can be everything you need.”
Blue eyes gazed at him. “You revel in this humanity,” she observed.
“I do,” Brown eyes met hers. “Thank you.”
“Your gratitude has no cause.”
Vittorio smiled for the first time in days. “Oh, it has, nobile Illyria,” he murmured, rising from his seat and bowing deeply to her. “Your presence and wisdom have been most illuminating, and I thank you.”
The demon blinked at him. “You are... welcome?” it offered.
That only made Vittorio smile more.
______________________
Part 2.
RATING: Upper PG for language
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SUMMARY: After Giles and Faith's arrival, some loose ends are tied up and some relationships are tested.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series.
In order: As Aught of Mortal Birth, Til The Moon Is Abed, Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, Visitation, After the Storm, In The Name Of, In The Air, then this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Herbert/Spike, Buffy/Vittorio, Dawn/von Krolock, misc. referenced/implied.
WORDS: 13972
NOTES: Like the previous Carpe Noctem chapter, this one has been sitting, half-finished for ages. I kept forgetting it had gone unposted, because I'd read and re-read it so often without ever finishing the final scenes. Plus, it kept getting bigger and bigger. And had to be split into two parts. Am looking forward to retreating to a short prequel now.
*waves a tiny fist in the direction of bwinter* Grr!
__________________________________
Dragged back through the house, Herbert could feel blood staining the collar of his shirt almost as intensely as he could feel the steely grip on his arm. He had - obedient to William’s wishes - returned to his room, but at the sight of something exploding rather impressively, curiosity had gotten the better of him.
Admittedly, he had hardly expected the response he had received.
“William…” he murmured.
The fingers tightened on his upper arm, steering him forcefully - yet still, he noticed, with gentleness so as not to strain his injuries - along the corridor, which lead to his own bedroom, a level below William’s.
The door was flung open and William released his arm, jerking his head to the cloud-darkened interior. “In.”
Out of habit, fascinated by this domineering character his lover was showing, Herbert hesitated, prodding the boundaries that William was laying out. Grey eyes met blue and he saw the warning flare of gold.
“In.” William repeated the single word softly, calmly. “Don’t make me ask again.”
There it was again, the low, dangerous, quiet tone that caused a delightful shiver run the length of his spine and made him feel almost giddy.
Without further question, he stepped into the room, a palm at the base of his back steering him forward.
Behind them, the door closed like the crack of doom and he felt the pleasant press of an arm around his waist. “You,” a voice said softly, little more than a whisper. “Are going to your bed and you’re going to stay there until you’re better, understood?”
“You must understand I was concer...” A hand closed over his mouth and he felt the lips against his ear, his eyes closing.
“Shut up, Herbie,” William murmured. “Just nod. You’re going to bed and you’re staying there. Understood?”
Nodding, Herbert could not resist the impulse to nip on one of the fingers that was covering his mouth. He felt the smile against his throat and the squeeze of the arm at his waist in response.
“Clothes off.”
“Ah...”
There was a brief, fond lick against the still-seeping bite that adorned his throat. “Let me guess.” He was turned around, William’s hands moving down the front of his shirt, deftly unbuttoning it. “You managed to strain something, didn’t you?”
Grey eyes met blue with a hint of mischief. “If I said no, would you stop undressing me?” he asked.
With an eloquent roll of his eyes, William pushed Herbert’s shirt off his shoulders, drawing it down Herbert’s arms and letting it fall on the floor behind him. “Can’t make things simple, can you, you dopey poof?” he said, though he leaned closer and kissed Herbert fondly.
Trying to pull William closer, Herbert winced at sudden pressure on his ribs and wished that the pain hadn’t taken him so much by surprise. It was enough to make William step back and frown more deeply.
“On the bed,” he said briskly.
With a petulant sound, Herbert complied, sitting slowly on the edge of the mattress. As much as he was loath to admit it, it was better that William had told him to do so, because his chest was aching.
With a swift care that seemed beyond him, William stripped away the bandages that had been meticulously wound around Herbert’s ribs, kneeling between his lover’s feet as he did so.
“You stupid bugger,” he muttered as the final strip peeled away.
Herbert winced when he looked down. “I didn’t suppose I would bruise so much,” he admitted, air hissing between his teeth when William gently touched certain points of his skin. “That hurts, you idiot!”
“Tell me again, Herbie, which idiot got out of his bed and aggravated his broken ribs?” William retorted sharply, blue eyes flashing. “You’ve gone and knocked it out of alignment. No wonder you’re in bloody pain!”
His hands spread on Herbert’s ribcage and Herbert swore loudly and colourfully.
“Oh, shut up!” William’s snarl startled him to silence.
There was a fluid crackling noise, accompanied by a blaze of pain, then Herbert became embarrassingly aware that he was lying flat on his back on the bed, admiring the canopy and not entirely able to recall going from vertical to horizontal.
The mattress shifted under him and he felt those same hands moving more gently now, replacing the bandages and drawing them taut against his skin. “This time,” he heard William say. “You’re staying put. You move again, I’ll break your bloody legs and leave you here until your ribs fixed.”
“You would do that too, wouldn’t you?” Herbert murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at William.
“Got a sledge-hammer all picked out and everything.” William didn’t look at him, attentively re-wrapping the bandages. Occasionally, sandy hair fell in front of his eyes and was hastily shaken back, but other than that, his focus, his utter dedication to the task at hand was astounding.
Watching him, Herbert felt a smile trip across his lips, in spite of the lingering pain in his torso. “You’re quite the ruthless little darling, aren’t you?” He reached out to touch William’s knee lightly.
“Only when I have a masochistic arse to watch out for,” William finally looked at him and the genuine concern in the blue eyes stole Herbert’s breath away. “Don’t like to see what’s mine hurting.” One side of his mouth quirked wryly. “Bit like you, really, but I don’t go Slayer-bashing to make myself feel better.”
“But that was such fun, cheri,” Herbert murmured.
For a moment, William looked reproving, then he reluctantly grinned. “Yeah, it is a bit of fun having a go at a Slayer, innit?” he said. “Had a gay old time with... er...” He frowned thoughtfully. “Six? Don’t think you count the wannabes...”
Gently, he slid his arms under Herbert’s body and shifted him onto the middle of the bed. A moment later, Herbert winced only slightly when his trousers were pulled off and tossed off the end of the bed.
Arranging pillows around and just beneath Herbert’s ribs, William leaned over him to smooth his hair on the pillow, ensuring that - even while he was in pain - his vanity was pampered.
“If you stay still...” His lips were so close to Herbert’s that Herbert could feel every syllable. The wounded vampire’s eyes closed, a shudder of desire running through his body. “You’ll be up and about in no time.”
That, however, was when cold metal snapped around his wrists, grey eyes flying open and staring at the grinning William with nothing short of surprise and annoyance all over his face.
“What...?”
“You really weren’t listening, were you?” William clambered to the end of the bed, cheerfully shackling Herbert’s ankles to the opposite posts, leaving his lover spread-eagled helplessly in the middle of the bed. “Told you I’d chain you to the bed if you didn’t stay put.”
Tugging futilely at the chains, caught in his own favourite snare, Herbert threw an imploring look up at his lover. “William, I promise I shall stay here.”
“Too late for that, Herbie.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, William leaned over him and kissed him.
Despite his annoyance, despite biting William’s tongue in grumbling reprimand, despite wrinkling his nose and hissing, Herbert tried to rise into the kiss, growling in frustration when the taut chains restrained him.
“I told your father you would be back in shape,” William said, pulling back. “And you will be, even if I have to leave you here to recover.” He stood up, tilting his head to let his eyes rove over Herbert’s body, naked but for the bandages. “Pity.”
“William, if you leave me like this...”
“All for your own good, love,” William’s eyes were dancing. “Get some rest.”
Turning, he wandered over to the door, whistling jauntily.
“William!”
Glancing back, the younger vampire’s brows rose. “Yep?”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
William’s grin was thoroughly wicked. “Well, with you looking like that, all trussed and at my mercy and not to be touched until you’re all right as rain... thought I’d go for a wank...” Grey eyes flashed. “What?”
“If you walk out that door, I swear you’ll regret it when I get out of these things, you treacherous little bastard!”
Pulling the door wide, William’s grin only widened. “Looking forward to it,” he said, then blew a kiss and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
______________________________
“Yes, it would explain that too... I’ll be sure to send your regards...”
Sitting on one of the couches, legs kicked out in front of her, arms bent up so she could grip the back of the couch, Faith watched the other occupants of the room as they watched Giles talking on his phone.
Always liked seeing what everyone else was thinking, when they didn’t think she was looking.
All of ‘em might have been looking at G, but for damn sure, not a one of them cared what he was saying. They were all paying way too much attention to how much they weren’t saying or doing anything to each other.
Even B and V weren’t as cosy as usual, sitting side-by-side on another couch. They were by the huge mother of a fireplace, hogging all the heat now that the storm had hit and rain was pissing down against the windows.
Despite how close her boytoy was sitting, B’s focus seemed to be on the uber-vamp, the one that everyone was shitting bricks over. So far, he hadn’t bitten anyone, so Faith figured he was okay for now.
Knowing B, it was a vamp thing. Maybe she’d started liking the cold after Fang and Fang the Second.
The Vamp-king-guy was sitting in a high-backed chair, but somehow, even though he was facing the fire, she couldn’t see his face. It was like he’d pulled the shadows around him and hell, maybe he could. All she could see of him was the faint glitter of watching eyes and the pale hands folded in his lap.
Little D was standing over by one of the windows, looking out at the sky and acting like nothing was going on.
The only person who didn’t look like they gave a shit about anything was the freaky-ass blue demon-thing. It was standing several feet from the vamp-king’s seat, hands by its side, head tilted as if it was watching everything. Look wicked weird, with those big eyes and pretty little face that she remembered being pinker and dorkier.
What had vamp-2 called her? Liria? Illya? Something like that?
Ah, well, she’d be Blue. Had a Red already, might as well have a Blue too.
A grin crossed Faith’s lips. Hell, get Red and Blue together with the girl-lovin’ and you could have a litter of little lesborn Purples too.
From the window, there was a snort of amusement. Tilting her head to peer around one of her arms, Faith saw Dawn throw a smile at the big-chief-vamp on his fancy seat and saw the glittering eyes looking back at her.
Huh.
Turning her attention back to chief-vamp, she squinted at the shadows around his face, trying to see what had set Dawn giggling, but all she got was more shadows and a more focussed glimmer.
A quiet snap from Giles indicated that his phone call had ended, so she switched her expression to attentive-good-slayer and sat up a bit straighter.
“Red keepin’ things right?”
“As always,” Giles replied, slipping his phone into his pocket. He looked over at the fancy-vamp. “I apologise again for the intrusion, Excellency.”
“Nonsense,” The chief vamp rose from his seat and Faith could have sworn it was like he had taken a mask off. It was like there had never been any darkness around him in the first place. “Your concerns for your charge brought you here. Had anything happened to my son, I assure you my response would have been the same.”
Beside B, Faith saw Vittorio stiffen, staring at his clasped hands. “Will Herbert be all right, Eccellenza?” he asked quietly.
When the uber-vamp looked at him, Vittorio’s chin rose as if it was being forced up, and Faith coulda sworn that the Immortal flinched when he raised his eyes to the vampire’s darker ones.
Huh.
Whoda thunk that B’s super-boy could be taken down by a fancy-pants vamp?
“Have you asked him that question, Immortal?”
Despite herself, Faith found she was sitting up a little bit straighter, startled by the way his deep, growl of a voice seemed to go straight from ear to crotch in one pulsing murmur. Hot damn.
Looking like V felt the same, his face averting from the vamp-lord’s. “I did not mean him any harm, Milord,” he said faintly, quietly.
“Think the wall you threw him at stands as evidence to the contrary,” Spike’s voice reached them as the vampire appeared in the doorway. “Got to learn to control that temper of yours, Vitto, old man. Might piss someone off.”
The uber-vamp didn’t look around, but he did tilt his head slightly. “William?”
“All patched up and taken care of, Sir.” Spike approached the vamp-lord, stopping beside him and staring down with equal coldness at B’s boytoy. “He’s a bit tied up at the moment, but he’ll be up and about later.”
Faith’s eyebrows headed skywards when the vamp-lord reached out and laid a hand against the back of Spike’s neck and Spike closed his eyes, a shiver running through him, like he was...
Again with the huh.
Spike doing the chief vamp’s kid and the chief vamp?
She glanced at Vittorio, who looked like he was trying way hard not to look, then at B, who was looking at Vitto trying not to look, then at the vamp-lord, who was watching Vitto too, as his fingers caressed the nape of the sighing Spike’s neck.
Damn.
So, that was what crazy sexual tension looked like, huh?
“Johannes.” From behind Faith’s couch, Dawn sounded like she was about to bust something laughing. “You’re doing it again.”
When the uber-vamp lifted his hand from Spike’s neck, it felt like some kind of weird grip on the room vanished, and the uber-vamp chuckled, returning to his seat and elegantly sinking into it, cloak settling about him like a pool of shadow.
Wandering from behind the couch, Dawn went and stood beside the uber-vamp’s chair, leaning against the high back, one arm dangling over the top of it. Spike went and stood on the other side, making them look kinda like two skinny-ass bodyguards.
Faith cocked her head, staring at them.
Dawn’s fingers were moving, just a little twitch, but damn! If she didn’t twitch ‘em just right and stroke the big uber-vamp’s hair...
And didn’t she just go on the first-name thing with him? Even Faith never went on a first-name thing with... no, Faith didn’t even go on a name thing half the time. All came down to what the guy did to make himself memorable.
One side of her mouth curved up.
So, wasn’t just B who went for the real stiffs, huh? Maybe it was a Summers thing.
Personally, if she’d had the choice, blondie would have been it. Not Spike, for sure, as cute as he was, because going with B’s cast-offs just screamed desperate, but the other one, Spike’s ho-boy; he was worth a look. Sharp suit, pretty face, nice ass.
Not that she was even thinking about it, because hey! One Slayer jumping undead bones was enough for the Council. Didn’t wanna get the girls thinking that they were Vampire Layers instead of Slayers.
“Herbert okay?” Dawn glanced over at Spike, who nodded.
“Silly arse pulled his rib back out of place,” he replied, and Faith could see the smile trying to get onto his face. Damn, the boy had it bad. Made B’s big old crush on Vitto look like a one-time glance.
Speaking of...
Shooting a look over at B, she could see that B was rigid on her seat, watching the trio gathered at the other chair. V wasn’t even touching her, which was a first. They were always touching, those two, hand-holding and all kindsa sappy crap.
“So, what’s the plan, G?” Pulling her attention from the other Slayer, Faith looked up at Giles, who was rubbing a hand wearily over his face. “Red sending us another ride or do we gotta walk?”
“I’m afraid it will be a day or two until any transport will become available,” Giles said tiredly. “And I doubt that we would all be able to fit into Buffy’s car.”
“Yeah,” Hazel eyes looked up at him apologetically. “It’s just a two-seater, Giles. I didn’t think we’d need more.”
“Uh...” Dawn waved a hand, drawing all attention back to her. “Buffy, I still have your convertible, if you wanna take it.” Faith saw Dawn’s sister tense up. “I mean, if I need to, I bet Herbert’ll lend me one of his cars.”
Spike snorted. “Nibs, you’ve got more chance of shagging him than ever getting your grubby mitts on his motors.”
“Yeah?” A thoughtful look crossed lil D’s face. “Wanna make a bet on that?”
Spike’s brows rose and he threw a grin at her. “I’d take it,” he said. “But don’t want to embarrass you, love.”
Seriously, Faith wondered, staring at them, what the hell was up with this house? B and V being quiet? Spike being way chipper and happy? Little D walking round like she owned the place?
Dawn made a face at him, then looked at her sister. “Seriously, you can have your car back,” she said. “I’m gonna stay here anyway, and if I need to get to you in a hurry, the guys have all kindsa contacts.”
“We...” Buffy looked up, looking way too wigged. “We were hoping you might want to come home for a while, Dawnie.”
Old-school Dawnie would have glared or stomped her foot or yelled at B for trying to run her life, but this Dawnie... no, this was Dawn, no half-pint kidlet here... she just looked right back at B and smiled, shaking her head.
“I’m staying,” she said. “I told you that. The Graf’s teaching me way more than any school could and hey! You need someone as reference to check the books here when you can’t find anything on your end.”
“The collection has been incredibly helpful,” Giles reminded them quietly, his voice making B jump, like she’d totally forgotten he was there while she was staring up at her kid-sister.
“Yeah,” the other Slayer said with a weak, half-smile. “But I miss having my sister around at home.”
That made D’s expression falter. “Huh?”
“The apartment’s way too quiet without you around,” B said with a tiny shrug. She looked way tired, now that Faith looked close. “Don’t have anyone to blame when it looks like demons invaded.”
Dawn was staring now, looking more than a sight confused. “But we hardly ever saw each other anyway,” she argued. “You were always running all over the place and I was at school...”
“And now, I only see you when I can get all the way out here,” B said quietly. “You never even said you would visit.”
Over the top of the chair, Spike was watching Dawn. He looked way worried, but the chief uber-vamp didn’t look like he had noticed the distress on Dawn’s face. His gaze was fixed on the blonde Slayer, his hands folded before him.
“I figured you were busy,” Dawn’s voice was uncertain now. “You’ve got all the Slayers to work with. I thought I’d be in the way.”
“But you...”
“Would you interfere with her studies?” the Graf spoke suddenly, but it was said in such a calm, measured way that it didn’t sound like he was interrupting anything. His dark eyes caught B like a rabbit in the headlights. “Your sister is my student. Would you disrupt her thus?”
Buffy blinked, though it looked like she was having to concentrate to do it. “She’s all the family I have,” B said slowly, carefully, as if every word was an effort. “I miss having her around.”
The Graf inclined his head slowly. “It is as you say,” he murmured. “But this is her choice, Slayer. She has much to learn and a willingness to study, which is rare. I would not see this shattered for the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?” B’s voice was trembling, and Faith could see her hands curl into fists. Oh, B was getting pissed off. “It’s family.”
“Buffy, don’t...”
“Dawnie, it’s true!”
Dawn down stared at her, then turned and walked towards the door. Spike looked at the uber-vamp, who touched his arm lightly, and Spike nodded at once, running after her.
Following the younger vampire with her eyes, Blue turned and stalked out after him, like she didn’t care what happened to anyone else in the room. Huh. His own crazy demon bodyguard. Cute.
Looking back at B and the uber-vamp, Faith could have sworn she could see and hear the sparks crackling between them and not in the way that meant all-around good boot-knockin’ fun.
“Vittorio, could you maybe show Faith and Giles around?”
Faith’s eyebrows shot skywards. So that was the way things were gonna go? She and Giles were gonna be forced out of seeing B trying to lay a smackdown on the uber-vamp?
“B...”
Vittorio had already risen and was moving towards her. “I believe it would be wiser if we left them,” he said quietly. She could see he was trying not to look over at B and wondered if there was more to him and the Graf-guy than just tension.
Pushing herself onto her feet, she shrugged. “Whatever.” She glanced over at Giles, who had moved to stand behind the couch Buffy was sitting on. “G, you comin’ for the tour?”
“I think not,” Giles reached out and laid a hand on B’s shoulder.
“Giles.”
“I’m staying,” he said, then nodded to Faith and Vittorio. “I shall see you later about travel arrangements.”
With a last glance at the ubervamp and B, Faith shrugged again and let Vittorio lead her towards the door, one hand on her upper arm. “Sure. Got plenty to see,” she replied. “Don’t break too much.”
If there was a reply, she didn’t hear it.
__________________________
Leaning against Dawn’s door, Spike sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Nibs, but we’re about if you want to have a chat, okay?” From within the room, there was no reply. “And if you need a laugh, have a peek into Herbie’s room.”
When she didn’t reply, he pushed off from the door and glanced at Illyria who was watching him from the end of the hall.
“This mortal is important to you.”
He nodded, walking towards her. “She’s a good girl,” he said. “And she was having such a good week as well.” With a sigh, he pushed his hand through his hair. “Don’t think the Graf’ll be letting her go, even if Buffy tries to fight him for her.”
“She is his.” The flat statement of it, especially from Illyria, made the vampire grin ruefully, and he nodded. “That is why I am not permitted to destroy her and purge the mortals from this house.”
“That’s why you wandered off on your tod?”
“Your speech is strange to me,” Illyria frowned.
“You went away for months, pet,” Spike corrected. “Didn’t know where you were.”
Illyria gazed at him for some time. “I witnessed the arrival of your morsel,” she said slowly, carefully. “I recalled Wesley and Charles. Their bodies failed them and they died. It caused strange sensations within me. I did not... appreciate this. I do not wish to witness such a thing again.”
Spike stared at her, unable to speak for several minutes. “You stayed away because of Dawn?” he asked dazedly. “You don’t want to see anyone die again, so you stayed away rather than meet the Niblet?”
Illyria’s blue eyes fixed on his face. “Her loss would cause you grief also.”
“Well, yeah...”
“One day, she will die.” It was said flatly, emotionlessly. “I do not wish to know her, because I know this will come to pass.”
“Pet, if you spend the rest of your life with that thinking, then you’ll be on your own a hell of a lot,” Spike said with a frown. “And the Niblet has a long time ahead of her anyway.”
Illyria’s expression didn’t change, but he could see she was thinking. “You hold on to those who will die before you ever will, when you know it will cause you to feel hurt and anger,” she observed. “Is this humanity?”
The vampire shrugged. “Dunno, love, but whatever it is, it’s what we do.” He started to walk down the hall and she fell into step beside him. “Can’t imagine not having Nibs around.”
“She will remain, then?”
“You said it yourself,” Spike glanced at her. “She’s his. He’s not about to let her go without blood.”
“Then,” Illyria said gravely, nodding. “I shall know this mortal. Humanity repels me, but I find myself... curious.”
The vampire threw a grin her way. “Wouldn’t mind having you around again, y’know, Blue,” he admitted as they approached the staircase. “Missed having you about and I know Dawn’ll have a hundred and one questions for you.”
“And speaking of questions,” A female voice spoke from one flight down, and Spike stopped dead at the sight of the dark-haired Slayer. “When the hell were you gonna tell us that D had gone and got herself an uber-vamp sex toy?”
Beside her, Vittorio went rigid. “Who...?”
“Baby, I watch people,” Faith gave the immortal a condescending look. “So, Spike, you gonna spill?”
Eyeing the Slayer, Spike’s eyes gleamed speculatively. “You got fags?”
“Nope, just Vitto,” Faith replied with a wicked smile that reduced the vampire to snickering. “You want one?”
“Trade you answers for them,” he said. “Blue, you want to keep Slayer-One’s boy company for a bit?”
“I can manage myself, thank you,” Vittorio said, his voice tense.
“Not asking, Mister-Trigger-Happy,” Spike said, hopping lightly down the stairs. “I don’t think the boss would be thrilled if I left you on the loose after you knocked Herbie senseless.”
Vittorio looked both aggrieved and angry. “I would not assault him again.”
A fist caught his shirt and yanked him forward. “Fucking right you wouldn’t,” Spike said quietly, coldly. “You even breathe the wrong way around him and you’ll be wearing your guts on the outside.” He glanced back at Illyria. “Ducks, I know you’re not a big fan of pillocks with their heads up their arses, but can you keep an eye on this twat for me?”
Pushing Spike’s hand away, Vittorio’s expression was icy. “You have no place in my argument with Johannes,” he said quietly.
Slowly, Spike started to grin and he released Vittorio’s shirt, wandering down the last two steps to join Faith on the landing. “Mate, if you think you can still call him that, you’re talking out your arse,” he said. “C’mon, Slayer. Blue?”
“Should this one breathe incorrectly, I shall tear his ribs from his chest and pin him to the walls with them.”
With a wistful sigh, Spike started down the hall, Faith striding alongside him. “God, I love that demon,” he said with a fond smile.
_____________________
“You have no right to make her stay!”
Still seated calmly where he had been, von Krolock watched the Slayer pacing back and forth in front of the mantlepiece. His gaze rested on her face, his fingertips pressed lightly together.
“This is Dawn’s decision,” he said quietly. “You cannot force her hand, nor can I. She will choose what she wishes.”
“She’s just a child!”
Von Krolock let one brow rise slightly, and he was amused to see the Slayer bristle as if he had struck out at her in some way. “Your sister has not been a child for many years, Miss Summers,” he said softly. “One only needs to talk with her to know she is old beyond her years.”
“She’s still a teenager,” the Slayer glared at him bitterly.
“Her age means nothing.” Von Krolock’s murmur was mellifluous and, to any other, would have been soothing. He could, however, see that every syllable was grating on this Slayer’s senses like nails against a board. “She is so much more and has done so much more.”
“And what do you mean by that? Huh?” The tiny blonde whirled on him with the fury of a storm, hands propped on her hips and hazel eyes flashing with a fire he had seen so many times in his own lover.
“I merely suggest that you allow her the freedom she deserves,” von Krolock replied evenly, the embodiment of decorum. Inwardly, however, he longed for the impetuous brat of a child to lash out at him, that he might teach her the meaning of respect.
“Buffy,” the Watcher murmured, approaching her. “Dawn does seem to be quite happy here.”
“Yeah, because some evil vampire is making her like it here.” The Slayer’s voice was shrill with emotion. “I’ve seen what the older vampires can do, Giles. Just because this one has helped us with books and stuff...” She turned away sharply, wrapping her arms over her chest. “Is it so bad that I want my sister where she’ll be safe?”
“You infer she would not be safe here?” Von Krolock was impressed that his voice remained calm and level.
The Slayer turned to stare at him, the coldness in her eyes speaking measures. “I know she thinks you’re all that,” she replied. “But I’ve been fighting your kind since I was younger than she is. I know vampires turn on people who trust them.”
He caught her eyes, caught the tendrils of memory, gazed at her steadily. With her anger baring her emotions, she was utterly open to him, a book to be studied at his leisure, and as easily as finding a marked page, he saw what he sought.
“There are exceptions in every situation,” he observed quietly, nodding slightly when the watcher caught the girl’s shoulders gently. “You do not trust me, because others have broken your trust. You believe I will do the same to Dawn.”
Hazel eyes flashed with emotions more than anger. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“When I invited her to remain.” Von Krolock rose smoothly, standing over the tiny blonde warrior. “I made the promise to her that I would not pretend to be anything other than that which I am. My honour forbids me to break such an oath.”
The girl snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Abruptly, he caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes ice-cold and hard as diamond. “Do not question my honour, Slayer,” he said softly, his voice deadly. “Vampire I may be, evil also, murderer many times over, but I still have my honour.”
She glared at him defiantly, but made no argument.
“I’m sure you understand Buffy’s concerns, your Excellency,” the Watcher said from behind the Slayer, when von Krolock released her chin. “Dawn is her sister and she naturally wishes to protect her.”
Resuming his seat, von Krolock nodded diplomatically. “But there is a fine line between protection and suffocating,” he murmured. “She finds she is able to do as she likes here, rather than hiding her intentions and true feelings, lest they cause you - any of you - distress. Here, she can feel as she truly feels.”
“Oh and I bet you were real happy to help her with those feelings.”
“Buffy...”
“No, Giles! This... vampire has brainwashed her! Would Dawnie ever willingly hang out with a soulless demon back home?” Apparently, her Watcher’s silence was more indicative than anything her might have said. “Giles?”
“She did,” he said. “Frequently.” He gazed at her solemnly. “And, more often than not, he was her constant companion.”
Von Krolock felt the amusement rise within him. “William, I trust?”
“Spike,” the Slayer replied, a sharpness in her words suggesting more recent hurts than the memory he had touched upon.
“I knew him before that name was claimed,” von Krolock said softly. He could see the Watcher’s intrigue, could sense it in the air. “She knew our world far more than you could know, Slayer. Perhaps, that is why she stays.”
“She should come home!”
Black eyes captured hazel, gazing at her with a quiet intensity. “Why is it so important to you, Slayer?”
“She needs to be safe!”
Von Krolock slowly shook his head. “Why?” he repeated, the harmonics in his voice changing just enough. “Why would you tear her from the place where she is happy and learning? Why would you pull her from her friends?”
He could see her fighting against him, against the response, against the power he had edged his voice with. “She should be with me.”
“Why?” She was shaking and white-faced, staring defiantly at him, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. “Tell me.”
“B-because she’s mine,” the words slipped between bloodless lips. “You can’t take her... not like Spike... or Vittorio...” He was unsurprised to see her eyes shining with tears. “She’s mine.”
Without seeming to move, he was standing before her again, gazing at her. One hand rose and he felt her shiver as he caught an escaping tear from her flushed cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shudder running through her.
“Miss Summers,” he said softly. “Look at me.”
Her reluctance was as fierce as her anger had been, and he knew he had tapped the source; grief, loneliness, hurt, guilt and a dozen other emotions had compounded into jealous and possessive rage.
Slowly, so slowly, hazel eyes opened, looked up at him.
His knuckles touched her cheek, light as a breeze.
“No matter if she stays or if she returns with you,” he said gently. “She will always be yours, by blood and by love.” He held her gaze, his voice low, persuasive. “All I ask is that you do not drive her from you or give her cause to hate you by forcing her to do what you would wish, rather than what she would wish.”
“She’s so young...”
Von Krolock nodded in quiet agreement. “She is, but she is strong and she is ready to test the world. Do not bind her and hold her back. Let her choose and she will love you the more for it.”
Her indecision pulsed against his senses as strongly as her heartbeat.
With the utmost gentleness, he directed her back, to her Watcher’s protection. “I shall say nothing further to sway you,” he said, then lifted his eyes to the man, who was watching him with wary and intrigued bewilderment. “Take care of your Slayer, Watcher. I must see to my own child.”
“Of... of course,” the man said, laying his hands on the Slayer’s shoulders.
Without giving the Slayer another glance, von Krolock turned away and strode across the room, aware of the disorientated emotion he was leaving in his wake, a subtle smile catching the corner of his mouth.
Behind him, he heard the Slayer’s dazed voice mumble, “Giles, what is he?”
_________________________
The rain had reduced itself to drizzle, but the sky was still grey and Spike and the Slayer took shelter on one of the balconies on the middle level of the manor to avoid the chill.
“Hand it on, ducks.” A pale hand unfolded in front of her. A cigarette and lighter were clapped into his palm and he lit up, inhaling a coil of smoke like it was ambrosia from heaven itself. “God, that’s good...”
“Been a while, huh?”
“Not got much in the way of local shops, hereabouts,” Spike replied, sitting down against the wall, beside the doorway. Taking another drag, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “So, what you got figured?”
Sitting down beside him, snatching her lighter back and lighting her own cigarette, the Slayer blew a stream of smoke towards the upper level.
“You and goldielocks are on and happenin’ in the more-than-fuckbuddies way,” she said with confidence. One blue eye cracked open. “Buddy, you’re doing the happy-glow thing. Ain’t seen that in... well... ever.”
“One point to Slayer,” the vampire grinned around his cigarette. “And...?”
“Little D has got it on in a heavy way with the uber-vamp.” Tapping ash from the end of the cigarette, she examined the glowing tip thoughtfully. “But this is where I get kinda... confused. You get pettings from the uber-vamp and V looks like he would kill for ‘em and D doesn’t give a damn?”
Spike chuckled. “Welcome to the madhouse, love,” he said, tilting his head back against the cool stone. “You stay here long enough without getting knocked off or kicked out and you’re claimed. Old Graf does it the most primal way.” He gradually became aware of the silence and looked sideways at the Slayer, who was staring at him in disbelief. “What?”
“You’re tellin’ me that Graf-guy, the most mannersome vamp I ever did see, screws whoever he likes as a houseguest?”
Spike inhaled so sharply that he almost swallowed his cigarette.
The Slayer’s grin was thoroughly wicked. “That a yeah?”
Coughing up ash, Spike wiped his mouth. “Only if you’re lucky,” he replied, unable to hide his smile. “You saw the look on the ponce’s face. Had a fling with the boss years back and still isn’t over him.”
“He starts tryin’ to hump the big guy’s leg, I’m thinkin’ I’ll need to get me a camera and get some proof...” Faith shook her head. “Wondered what got B wound so tight, but I guess havin’ your boytoy goin’ fanboy on an ubervamp’ll do it every time.”
“Not to mention that she and Herbert had a bit of a fight,” Spike reminded her dryly. “I don’t think the Slayer takes kindly to being smacked about by a pretty boy with better hair.”
Faith’s smile was lop-sided. “She don’t like to lose,” she agreed.
Settling back against the wall, Spike flicked some of the ash from his cigarette. “It’s kept her alive this long.”
“Uh, Fang-2? She died twice, remember?”
The vampire’s eyes closed briefly. “Yeah, she did...” Then he chuckled. “Mind you, been there, done the eaten-by-vampire-death and the flaming-toasty-sacrificial-death thing, but never managed to find a T-shirt.”
The Slayer was quiet for a moment, then he heard her draw a breath, as if she was steeling herself for something. Cracking open one eye, he glanced at her. “What you want to know, Slayer?”
She was staring at the smouldering tip of her cigarette, but it didn’t look like she was really seeing it. “What happened?” she asked quietly. “You were there. You saw what went down.” She looked at him. “Blue... she’s Fred, but not... and you’re here, but no one else...”
Spike felt the muscle in his jaw tense and nodded. “Took on hell,” he replied, his voice quiet, serious. “Angel’s big plan; knock out a huge chunk of the top demons in line for the big apocalypse.”
“Explains why a huge-ass piece of LA looked like a warzone...”
Spike laughed faintly, but his eyes were distant, haunted. “Band of buggered versus an army, love,” he replied sadly. “The band of buggered. Fred was out of it months back. Blue nicked her body.” He drew a trembling drag. “Wesley went out in the first wave. Saw Charlie-boy fighting, but he was cut up before the big showdown started. Bleeding.” Smoke curled from his lips. “And Angel...” He closed his eyes, exhaled. “The stupid son of a bitch took a stake for me.”
“Christ...”
“Could have done with his help,” Spike said softly, looking at his cigarette. “Blue went mental, took out dozens. Knew I was meant to go next. Wanted to take as many as I could.” He laughed faintly, sadly. “Amazing the damage molotov cocktails can do when you toss in some holy water as well. Got a knock on the head from somewhere. Woke up later. Blue had grabbed me. Run. Left them burning.”
“Jesus...”
Blue eyes gazed at her. “Yeah. Glad you weren’t there, Slayer.”
“Wish I coulda helped.”
Spike shook his head. “Nah, Slayer. Getting skewered and toasted isn’t the way to go,” he said. “You done right staying with Buffy. Newbies’ll need all the experienced help they can get. Better you’re around to show ‘em.” He reached out, gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You know the poof wouldn’t have let you come anyway.”
“Still doesn’t mean I don’t regret being there to lay a smackdown on hell’s bitches for him.” He could hear the tremor in her voice. “Jesus, Spike, he... he got me back on my feet, showed me what to do...”
Slipping his arm around her shoulders, Spike pulled her - with only a heartbeat of resistance - against his side. “I know, Slayer,” he said quietly. “Least we can remember that about the silly arse, eh? That and the bloody awful hair.” He heard her faint laugh and laid his cheek against her hair. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but he was all right.”
“He was,” Faith agreed quietly. “Bad hair included.”
_______________________________
“Your anger is futile.”
Ignoring the demon striding behind him, Vittorio stalked through the halls, towards the chamber he presently shared with his lover. He tried to close the door, but her feet slid into the gap and she pushed her way in regardless of his curse.
“I need no warden in my own quarters,” he said coldly.
Solid blue eyes gazed at him neutrally. “Spike said you were to be watched. You have caused discord already. Any other, I would allow, but the Sorcerer’s will and the Sorcerer’s blood will be protected.”
The door was closed firmly behind her, and she let her hands hang loosely by her sides, small, delicate and unthreatening in appearance, yet simply by looking at her, he knew she probably had the capabilities to do him irreparable damage.
Forcing himself to remain calm, he lifted his chin coolly. “What loyalty do you owe one such as the Graf?” he asked, walking across the room and sitting, as if her presence caused him no offence.
“I owe no one loyalty,” the creature replied in that same, flat voice. “The Sorcerer is my guide and Spike is my remaining companion. Should they come to harm, it would cause me displeasure.” She stepped closer to him, silent threat in every gesture. “I would peel the flesh from the bones of any who would cause such displeasure.”
Inclining his head politely, Vittorio had no doubts that she could do precisely as she said. Whatever she was, this was no normal, average demon in human guise.
She was watching him again, those cold, emotionless, unearthly eyes. Her fingers spasmed as if she was trying to restrain herself from lashing out, her head slowly tilting to one side.
Used to being under constant supervision, ever watched, warily and fearfully, to be gazed at with such flat, unyielding emotionless eyes was unsettling, and he found himself avoiding her gaze.
“You might stand outwith my door,” he offered.
“Your fear is unlike the reek of human fear,” she said, moving closer. “Yet it is not my displeasure that you fear.” Her fingers curled and uncurled slowly. “You fear, yet you desire the Sorcerer. Your female knows this. Her anger and despair sours the air, even here.”
Vittorio flinched. Perhaps, it would have been better if she had struck him.
“The Sorcerer has no desire for me any longer,” he admitted.
The demon blinked slowly, as if taking her time, savouring the motion. “Your feeble whimpers bore him,” she said, her head rolling on her shoulders. “Such pitiful longing is lower than the basest of humanity.”
Vittorio felt his innards clench. “We were lovers, once.”
Half-closed blue eyes gazed at him as if he were less than an insect to be studied under a microscope. “You were a lover,” she said. “He was your Master.”
He wanted to protest that she was wrong, wanted to argue against her, wanted to say that they had been equals in an era where his experience still surpassed the young vampire’s by nearly two and a half centuries.
The lie would not take shape on his lips.
Even then, every step of their interaction had been governed by the Graf’s will and his decisions, as unbending as steel, as hard as diamond.
“Your desire is futile,” the demon noted without expression. “Yet, you still cling to him as if he might change his mind and allow you to approach him once more. Such mindless worship is commendable.”
“It is not worship,” he protested softly. “I loved him.”
“What is worship but the hopeless devotion of one creature to one who does not truly care for it?” the demon asked. “I was worshipped for millennia, but never did I profess to love those who gave me their devotion.”
“Love is different,” Vittorio said faintly.
“Sometimes, yes,” the demon said, stepping close and scrutinising him with a cold intensity that made him lean back in his seat. “The shell had love for the one called Wesley. This love was returned a hundred-fold from him. When she was lost to him, this... emotion remained. Even when he died, it was his foremost thought, as he had been the shell’s when I claimed her form.” She canted her head. “Would your thought and feeling be returned by the Sorcerer upon his death?”
He did not, could not respond to that, his chest aching unbearably as if the demon had reached between his ribs and wrenched out his heart. He looked away from her, staring at the misted glass.
“What of your female?”
In the stillness, her voice seemed like an explosion of sound.
Buffy...
Closing his eyes, Vittorio swore softly, under his breath. What had he been doing in fawning over the Graf all over again? They had not seen one another for centuries and with good reason. Why had he become a love-struck fool again when confronted with a face from his past, even when his lover was by his side?
It was she who had dominion in his heart now, had done for months, and when he thought of her, of the way she laughed, of the expression on her face when she tried to pretend she had not burned the pasta, of the way her hair fell against her cheek when she fell asleep in his arms...
“She deserves so much better,” he heard himself say. “And I do not deserve her.”
“In this festering cesspool,” Illyria’s voice was a monotone. “I do not believe better is a choice. I have seen people fight for this emotion, this love, and many of them do not deserve all they have. Why should you deserve or not deserve? If you want it, then you keep it. If not, then you destroy it.” Her expression was distasteful. “It is such a weakness, emotion.”
Vittorio looked up at her, sudden revelation on his face. “It is,” he said softly, “But it is what makes us strong as well. It is what makes us stand, what makes us fight when we know we should lie down and give up.”
“Folly,” Illyria maintained.
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But it can be so much more as well.” He curled his hand, a swirl of light spiralling above his fingertips, his eyes apparently reading something in the flare of light that the demon could not see. “It can be everything you need.”
Blue eyes gazed at him. “You revel in this humanity,” she observed.
“I do,” Brown eyes met hers. “Thank you.”
“Your gratitude has no cause.”
Vittorio smiled for the first time in days. “Oh, it has, nobile Illyria,” he murmured, rising from his seat and bowing deeply to her. “Your presence and wisdom have been most illuminating, and I thank you.”
The demon blinked at him. “You are... welcome?” it offered.
That only made Vittorio smile more.
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Part 2.