The Artifact: Chapter Sixteen
Yes, Glory. You guessed that was coming. Very good. Have a cookie.
<-- Previous Chapter
Chapter One Here
Chapter Sixteen: Glory, Glory
Spike didn’t know what he expected to find when he woke from being knocked out, but it was not to be in an elevator with his hands tied behind him and a half-dozen scabby faced monks.
They muscled him out of the elevator and… had he seen this small woman before? Wait… woman, scab-faces. He groaned. “For the love of kittens, we’re still fighting Glory? I don’t even remember where we were in this plotline.”
Glory stood before him in all her bitchy, well, glory, hands on hips and hair perfectly primped. “What the hell is that, and why is its hair that color?”
“Stunning one, we believe he is... the Key!”
“Really? That's fantabulous. And impossible!” Her eyes seemed to bore right through him, and from her frown it wasn’t a very deep view. “He can't be the Key. 'Cause you see the Key has to be pure. This is a vampire. Lesson Number One: Vampire equals Impure.”
“Damn right I'm impure! I'm as impure as the driven yellow snow. Let me go!”
“But your Unholiness, we observed the Slayer. She protected this one above all others. She treated him as precious.”
Glory turned from nearly having walked away. “Really? Precious? Let's take a peak at you, precious.”
There was a glint of interest in her eyes now. Bugger. If Spike had a heartbeat, it would have stopped. All Glory had to do was order him to tell her who the key was and, unless there was a “No Hell Gods” clause in that curse, he was well and truly fucked. “You said so yourself: I’m a vampire. If I could, I’d sell everyone out for a tin nickel.” Did that come out a little too desperate?
The next thing he knew, he was flying across the room. “Doesn’t look very special to me.” Glory picked him up again and tossed him onto a bed. She crawled over him. Maybe this was good, he thought. He could seduce her. Wasn’t like he hadn’t had loads of practice. He struggled to get up on his elbows and give her his best leer as she straddled him.
“Oh, I’m special, all right,” he purred. “Come take a closer look.”
“Maybe appearances are deceiving. Maybe there's something on the inside? What can I dig out of you?” She jabbed her unnaturally strong talon into his chest.
If she stuck to pain, he could work with that. He laughed and arched upward. Her finger was a knife separating muscle and bone. “Promises, promises. Ah.” It got hard to breathe as she pressed against his lung, but he managed, though not nearly as sultry as he intended, to gasp, “Gonna spank me? I’ve been bad.”
As he hoped, she drew back. “The disgusting little creep is enjoying this. What do I do now?”
Spike forced himself to breathe slowly in. It hurt like coals in his chest and the last thing he needed was to choke on blood or something. “Tell me. How does a hell god get off, usually?” Head tilt, eyebrow raise. “I might be able to do something with that information about now.” If only he could get his bloody shirt off. He shifted, very subtly, to lift his hip against her thigh.
Spike hadn’t really wondered what that light fixture would feel like smashing against his cheek, and as he tumbled back to the floor, he reflected that he was going to be learning a lot about what his body and the furnishings could do to each other.
“You’re cute,” Glory said, stalking over to him, “But not that cute.”
“Give me a chance, love. You won’t even have to untie me. Do you know what’s great about vampires?”
She hauled him up by his bottom lip. THAT hurt. She smirked. “You’re breakable?”
He licked her finger and she let go with an “Ew!”
The disgust didn’t bode well. He crowded close before she could back away. “We can hold our breath for hours.”
She dug her nails into his floating ribs. “You’re a chatty bloodsucker. It’s not attractive.”
He gasped against her ear. “Better things I could be doing with my mouth.” Please… fuck… how was he failing at this? He had no idea how long he could keep her from ordering him to tell her who was the key.
She snapped his fingers, one at a time, while he nibbled her jawline.
He landed on the bed again. She stood over him with a perky smile. “You’re persistent. Full marks for that.”
“I’m no use to your quest for this whatever-it-is,” Spike said. Keep driving that home, mate. “Excuse me for making sure you’ve got some reason not to dust me.”
She stepped over him. “Honesty. I like it.” She dropped onto his chest, slamming his broken fingers underneath him. “You really don’t know anything, precious?”
Thank fuck for vague phrasing. “I know a few very specific things,” he curled his tongue behind his teeth and raised his eyebrows.
That must have given her enough curiosity, because she looked thoughtful and didn’t try to tear anything off of him for a change. He shifted, despite the pain in his fingers as they dragged between his body and the bedclothes. FUCK those sheets and their wrinkles. He nudged her skirt up with his nose and gave her a saucy look. “Wanna see what I know?”
“Sure, Precious. Let’s see what you can do. I need to think, anyway.”
***
Xander ran, trying to catch up to Buffy. “I get that you’re worried what Spike will say to Glory, but… gah… breathing. Breathing is needed.” He fell against a lamppost and pointed with his crossbow. “I’ll catch up.”
Buffy turned and grabbed his arm. “You don’t understand. He’ll tell Glory everything he knows. He can’t help it. There’s a mind-controlling spell on him. It makes him obey ANYONE.” Buffy looked grimly from Xander to Anya. “We have to kill him before she asks. We may already be too late.”
Continued -->
<-- Previous Chapter
Chapter One Here
Chapter Sixteen: Glory, Glory
Spike didn’t know what he expected to find when he woke from being knocked out, but it was not to be in an elevator with his hands tied behind him and a half-dozen scabby faced monks.
They muscled him out of the elevator and… had he seen this small woman before? Wait… woman, scab-faces. He groaned. “For the love of kittens, we’re still fighting Glory? I don’t even remember where we were in this plotline.”
Glory stood before him in all her bitchy, well, glory, hands on hips and hair perfectly primped. “What the hell is that, and why is its hair that color?”
“Stunning one, we believe he is... the Key!”
“Really? That's fantabulous. And impossible!” Her eyes seemed to bore right through him, and from her frown it wasn’t a very deep view. “He can't be the Key. 'Cause you see the Key has to be pure. This is a vampire. Lesson Number One: Vampire equals Impure.”
“Damn right I'm impure! I'm as impure as the driven yellow snow. Let me go!”
“But your Unholiness, we observed the Slayer. She protected this one above all others. She treated him as precious.”
Glory turned from nearly having walked away. “Really? Precious? Let's take a peak at you, precious.”
There was a glint of interest in her eyes now. Bugger. If Spike had a heartbeat, it would have stopped. All Glory had to do was order him to tell her who the key was and, unless there was a “No Hell Gods” clause in that curse, he was well and truly fucked. “You said so yourself: I’m a vampire. If I could, I’d sell everyone out for a tin nickel.” Did that come out a little too desperate?
The next thing he knew, he was flying across the room. “Doesn’t look very special to me.” Glory picked him up again and tossed him onto a bed. She crawled over him. Maybe this was good, he thought. He could seduce her. Wasn’t like he hadn’t had loads of practice. He struggled to get up on his elbows and give her his best leer as she straddled him.
“Oh, I’m special, all right,” he purred. “Come take a closer look.”
“Maybe appearances are deceiving. Maybe there's something on the inside? What can I dig out of you?” She jabbed her unnaturally strong talon into his chest.
If she stuck to pain, he could work with that. He laughed and arched upward. Her finger was a knife separating muscle and bone. “Promises, promises. Ah.” It got hard to breathe as she pressed against his lung, but he managed, though not nearly as sultry as he intended, to gasp, “Gonna spank me? I’ve been bad.”
As he hoped, she drew back. “The disgusting little creep is enjoying this. What do I do now?”
Spike forced himself to breathe slowly in. It hurt like coals in his chest and the last thing he needed was to choke on blood or something. “Tell me. How does a hell god get off, usually?” Head tilt, eyebrow raise. “I might be able to do something with that information about now.” If only he could get his bloody shirt off. He shifted, very subtly, to lift his hip against her thigh.
Spike hadn’t really wondered what that light fixture would feel like smashing against his cheek, and as he tumbled back to the floor, he reflected that he was going to be learning a lot about what his body and the furnishings could do to each other.
“You’re cute,” Glory said, stalking over to him, “But not that cute.”
“Give me a chance, love. You won’t even have to untie me. Do you know what’s great about vampires?”
She hauled him up by his bottom lip. THAT hurt. She smirked. “You’re breakable?”
He licked her finger and she let go with an “Ew!”
The disgust didn’t bode well. He crowded close before she could back away. “We can hold our breath for hours.”
She dug her nails into his floating ribs. “You’re a chatty bloodsucker. It’s not attractive.”
He gasped against her ear. “Better things I could be doing with my mouth.” Please… fuck… how was he failing at this? He had no idea how long he could keep her from ordering him to tell her who was the key.
She snapped his fingers, one at a time, while he nibbled her jawline.
He landed on the bed again. She stood over him with a perky smile. “You’re persistent. Full marks for that.”
“I’m no use to your quest for this whatever-it-is,” Spike said. Keep driving that home, mate. “Excuse me for making sure you’ve got some reason not to dust me.”
She stepped over him. “Honesty. I like it.” She dropped onto his chest, slamming his broken fingers underneath him. “You really don’t know anything, precious?”
Thank fuck for vague phrasing. “I know a few very specific things,” he curled his tongue behind his teeth and raised his eyebrows.
That must have given her enough curiosity, because she looked thoughtful and didn’t try to tear anything off of him for a change. He shifted, despite the pain in his fingers as they dragged between his body and the bedclothes. FUCK those sheets and their wrinkles. He nudged her skirt up with his nose and gave her a saucy look. “Wanna see what I know?”
“Sure, Precious. Let’s see what you can do. I need to think, anyway.”
***
Xander ran, trying to catch up to Buffy. “I get that you’re worried what Spike will say to Glory, but… gah… breathing. Breathing is needed.” He fell against a lamppost and pointed with his crossbow. “I’ll catch up.”
Buffy turned and grabbed his arm. “You don’t understand. He’ll tell Glory everything he knows. He can’t help it. There’s a mind-controlling spell on him. It makes him obey ANYONE.” Buffy looked grimly from Xander to Anya. “We have to kill him before she asks. We may already be too late.”
Continued -->