Post by Casi on Jun 7, 2007 12:41:12 GMT 10
Title: Too Much
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All hail lord God Joss
Synopsis: What really drove Spike to seek out Buffy's help to stop Angelus? What was the final straw?
Drusilla lay sprawled across Spike’s lap, her right arm draped around his neck while her left traced the sharp lines of his face. Every now and again, she would shift her weight, ever so slightly, putting just the right amount of pressure to….
“Bloody hell, Dru…” Spike gasped as she moved again. She knew it was impossible for him to do anything…impossible for him to ravish her the way he wanted to. He was completely useless as long as he was stuck in that sodding wheel chair, and they both knew it. Why did she insist on torturing him like this?
“I hear you whisper whisper whisper…” she said softly, hissing like a snake on every ‘s.’ “Inside my head, late at night when I’m all alone.”
“Really, Pet…” Spike said, interested in spite of himself, but knowing no good was going to come of it. Still, he spoke softly to her. No matter what, he couldn’t help but be completely enslaved to her. “What do I say?”
“You miss the flowers,” she said dreamily, her left hand trailing slowly down his chest as she stared off into the space over his head, her head swaying slightly from side to side. “And the bees with they’re buzz buzz buzz buzz deep in your ears.” Spike snorted with a short laugh. She really seemed stuck on those sibilant sounds today. He supposed she liked the way they felt on her tongue….but that led to much naughtier thoughts which…weren’t helpful…
“Dru!” Spike grabbed her hand as it made contact with the top button of his pants. “You know I can’t.” He said, almost pleading.
“But you wanted pretty petals,” she said, looking at him, almost confused, and fluttering her fingertips lightly across his palm. Her hand left his and moved to her own stomach, sliding lightly over the satin fabric of her dress and inching a little lower than they should. She pouted slightly. “I’d give you violets, but they wilted all when Daddy came.”
“Surely not all of them…” Angel seemed to melt out of the shadows near the doorway as he drifted towards the pair. He rested his hand on top of Dru’s and guided its path until Spike couldn’t bare it anymore. He looked away, his eyes closed and his mouth dry as Dru cooed seductively in his ear. His shame deepened as Angel laughed, the deep sound of it doing nothing to ease the tension. Spike’s jaw tightened and he tried to not grind his teeth.
“Aww, what’s the matter, Spikey? Not able to…rise to the occasion? Wouldn’t be the first time.” Angel smirked and scooped one arm under Drusilla’s back, lifting her easily from Spike’s lap and drawing her close. Her bare toes slid across the floor as he supported her weight and she made a joyful little noise in the back of her throat.
“Bad, Daddy,” she chided. “We were playing, my William and I. Spoiled the game.” Dru grinned wickedly, her chin lowered so that she could look up at Angel in that oh so seductive way.
“Did I ruin your fun, Dru? Well,” Angel ran his free hand over her body obscenely, looking at Spike sideways over Dru’s head, “we’ll have to see what we can do to entertain you, then.”
“Dru…” Spike said. His voice sounded weak even to him as he reached out and grabbed her dangling right hand.
She turned to face him, her mouth slightly open, the corners curved into a half smile. She looked at him as though she had already forgotten he was there. “My Spike…” she said, her tone all the affection she might have carried if she were talking to nothing more than an old dog. “Be a good boy.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and wrapped it around Angel’s neck, her nails digging deep enough to leave marks. Angel grinned and licked his lips, hoisting her into the air and carrying her off.
* * *
Spike paced in front of the long dead fireplace. How he’d love to give Angel what was coming to him…but it wasn’t time yet. He just had to stay locked in that chair for a little longer. Then he’d make him pay. And he and Dru would be gone, and hopefully never see this bloody town again.
However, the question still remained…how was he going to do it? He’d strained his imagination to cover every humiliating defeat he thought himself capable of effecting, but still…none of them seemed right. And what was more, every plan he concocted seemed to require more time and assistance than he really had at the moment. The arrival of Acathala had stolen what little time he had.
Spike had been wondering ever since the sodding thing had arrived if Angel actually intended to awaken the beast. They’d been fearsome demons together in their time, but he’d never actually realized the scope of Angelus’s malice. Now he was faced with a real problem.
He wanted Angel’s downfall. He wanted Dru back. And…going against his very nature…he didn’t want Acathala to wake up. And there was the real rub, wasn’t it? His feelings towards Angel and Dru were understandable. He knew where they came from, and what to do about them. But Acathala…he didn’t know how he felt about the situation in general. All he knew was that Angel’s description of what the beast would do…wasn’t really something Spike was all that interested in seeing. He found himself wondering, more and more frequently, if he was losing his edge.
Spike heard light footsteps approaching and he scrambled to get back into his chair. He didn’t want to give away his big secret just yet. It was an ace that he knew he’d have to hold onto if he had if intended to bring Angelus down. It was the blighter’s own fault, the whole sordid affair was. But the question still remained…how was Spike going to do it?
Dru appeared in the doorway, draped languidly against the plain wood. The reek of sex invaded the room, nearly making Spike gag. So often, that smell on her skin had been his doing. It had only made him want her more. But not now…not with the stench of Angelus mixed in. He didn’t know if he wanted to kill them both, or cry like the poor wounded puppy she so often called him.
“William…” she said, low and sultry. Even her voice sounded like sex.
“Yes, Pet?” he said through a lump in his throat. He’d stake himself before he’d let her see him weakened even further.
“Daddy makes everything all better…” she continued in that indecent tone of voice. Undulating slowly towards him, she hardly seemed to blink, holding him in thrall as she had so many other unwitting victims. As she drew level with his chair, she hoisted one leg up, placing her bare foot daintily on the armrest, her dress gathering between her legs.
It was disgusting. The smell was overwhelming, he didn’t even need to breath in to feel it invade his system…and the sight of the bunched fabric…the little bit of moisture still clinging…
Spike jerked the chair backwards, the wheels scraping loudly and obtrusively across the floor. Dru very nearly fell, and Spike felt a twinge of shame which he refused to acknowledge. But the feeling deepened as she keened softly…making that low sound in her throat as though she might cry which had always been his undoing.
“My Spike doesn’t want to play…” she moaned in that soft way of hers. Her long nailed fingers rose to her hair, digging in and upsetting the delicately placed curls. She gave voice to her lamentations oh so subtly, and Spike wondered if she knew just what that did to him. Surely, after all the years they’d spent together, she must have learned. But then, so many of her actions reduced him to nothing more than the hopelessly lost man he was when she’d found him that it was hard to tell.
Wordlessly, Spike looked up at her. There was a pleading in his eyes that he knew he couldn’t hide as he opened his arms to her. She did not smile in triumph. She did not call him pet names. He knew that, whether he’d meant to or not, his so obvious rejection of her closeness had hurt her, somewhere in her demented mind. But still, she came to him.
A part of his mind was soothed by that action. No matter what she did to him, he always welcomed her back. And no matter what he did to her, she always came to his embrace. It was their way and always would be, and he took comfort in that knowledge as she settled her weight against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He folded his arms around her and tried to ignore the remnants of Angelus…smell and marks alike…which marred her perfection.
Something had to be done. The madness had to end. Angelus had to pay. He looked at Dru and he knew he had his answer. Angel had taken Dru from him. Angel had taken the only being Spike loved in all the world and beyond. And that was how Spike was going to get back at him. And Angelus would never even see it coming. Spike only hoped he’d have the balls to do it.
He would bring the slayer to knock Angel on his ass.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All hail lord God Joss
Synopsis: What really drove Spike to seek out Buffy's help to stop Angelus? What was the final straw?
Drusilla lay sprawled across Spike’s lap, her right arm draped around his neck while her left traced the sharp lines of his face. Every now and again, she would shift her weight, ever so slightly, putting just the right amount of pressure to….
“Bloody hell, Dru…” Spike gasped as she moved again. She knew it was impossible for him to do anything…impossible for him to ravish her the way he wanted to. He was completely useless as long as he was stuck in that sodding wheel chair, and they both knew it. Why did she insist on torturing him like this?
“I hear you whisper whisper whisper…” she said softly, hissing like a snake on every ‘s.’ “Inside my head, late at night when I’m all alone.”
“Really, Pet…” Spike said, interested in spite of himself, but knowing no good was going to come of it. Still, he spoke softly to her. No matter what, he couldn’t help but be completely enslaved to her. “What do I say?”
“You miss the flowers,” she said dreamily, her left hand trailing slowly down his chest as she stared off into the space over his head, her head swaying slightly from side to side. “And the bees with they’re buzz buzz buzz buzz deep in your ears.” Spike snorted with a short laugh. She really seemed stuck on those sibilant sounds today. He supposed she liked the way they felt on her tongue….but that led to much naughtier thoughts which…weren’t helpful…
“Dru!” Spike grabbed her hand as it made contact with the top button of his pants. “You know I can’t.” He said, almost pleading.
“But you wanted pretty petals,” she said, looking at him, almost confused, and fluttering her fingertips lightly across his palm. Her hand left his and moved to her own stomach, sliding lightly over the satin fabric of her dress and inching a little lower than they should. She pouted slightly. “I’d give you violets, but they wilted all when Daddy came.”
“Surely not all of them…” Angel seemed to melt out of the shadows near the doorway as he drifted towards the pair. He rested his hand on top of Dru’s and guided its path until Spike couldn’t bare it anymore. He looked away, his eyes closed and his mouth dry as Dru cooed seductively in his ear. His shame deepened as Angel laughed, the deep sound of it doing nothing to ease the tension. Spike’s jaw tightened and he tried to not grind his teeth.
“Aww, what’s the matter, Spikey? Not able to…rise to the occasion? Wouldn’t be the first time.” Angel smirked and scooped one arm under Drusilla’s back, lifting her easily from Spike’s lap and drawing her close. Her bare toes slid across the floor as he supported her weight and she made a joyful little noise in the back of her throat.
“Bad, Daddy,” she chided. “We were playing, my William and I. Spoiled the game.” Dru grinned wickedly, her chin lowered so that she could look up at Angel in that oh so seductive way.
“Did I ruin your fun, Dru? Well,” Angel ran his free hand over her body obscenely, looking at Spike sideways over Dru’s head, “we’ll have to see what we can do to entertain you, then.”
“Dru…” Spike said. His voice sounded weak even to him as he reached out and grabbed her dangling right hand.
She turned to face him, her mouth slightly open, the corners curved into a half smile. She looked at him as though she had already forgotten he was there. “My Spike…” she said, her tone all the affection she might have carried if she were talking to nothing more than an old dog. “Be a good boy.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and wrapped it around Angel’s neck, her nails digging deep enough to leave marks. Angel grinned and licked his lips, hoisting her into the air and carrying her off.
* * *
Spike paced in front of the long dead fireplace. How he’d love to give Angel what was coming to him…but it wasn’t time yet. He just had to stay locked in that chair for a little longer. Then he’d make him pay. And he and Dru would be gone, and hopefully never see this bloody town again.
However, the question still remained…how was he going to do it? He’d strained his imagination to cover every humiliating defeat he thought himself capable of effecting, but still…none of them seemed right. And what was more, every plan he concocted seemed to require more time and assistance than he really had at the moment. The arrival of Acathala had stolen what little time he had.
Spike had been wondering ever since the sodding thing had arrived if Angel actually intended to awaken the beast. They’d been fearsome demons together in their time, but he’d never actually realized the scope of Angelus’s malice. Now he was faced with a real problem.
He wanted Angel’s downfall. He wanted Dru back. And…going against his very nature…he didn’t want Acathala to wake up. And there was the real rub, wasn’t it? His feelings towards Angel and Dru were understandable. He knew where they came from, and what to do about them. But Acathala…he didn’t know how he felt about the situation in general. All he knew was that Angel’s description of what the beast would do…wasn’t really something Spike was all that interested in seeing. He found himself wondering, more and more frequently, if he was losing his edge.
Spike heard light footsteps approaching and he scrambled to get back into his chair. He didn’t want to give away his big secret just yet. It was an ace that he knew he’d have to hold onto if he had if intended to bring Angelus down. It was the blighter’s own fault, the whole sordid affair was. But the question still remained…how was Spike going to do it?
Dru appeared in the doorway, draped languidly against the plain wood. The reek of sex invaded the room, nearly making Spike gag. So often, that smell on her skin had been his doing. It had only made him want her more. But not now…not with the stench of Angelus mixed in. He didn’t know if he wanted to kill them both, or cry like the poor wounded puppy she so often called him.
“William…” she said, low and sultry. Even her voice sounded like sex.
“Yes, Pet?” he said through a lump in his throat. He’d stake himself before he’d let her see him weakened even further.
“Daddy makes everything all better…” she continued in that indecent tone of voice. Undulating slowly towards him, she hardly seemed to blink, holding him in thrall as she had so many other unwitting victims. As she drew level with his chair, she hoisted one leg up, placing her bare foot daintily on the armrest, her dress gathering between her legs.
It was disgusting. The smell was overwhelming, he didn’t even need to breath in to feel it invade his system…and the sight of the bunched fabric…the little bit of moisture still clinging…
Spike jerked the chair backwards, the wheels scraping loudly and obtrusively across the floor. Dru very nearly fell, and Spike felt a twinge of shame which he refused to acknowledge. But the feeling deepened as she keened softly…making that low sound in her throat as though she might cry which had always been his undoing.
“My Spike doesn’t want to play…” she moaned in that soft way of hers. Her long nailed fingers rose to her hair, digging in and upsetting the delicately placed curls. She gave voice to her lamentations oh so subtly, and Spike wondered if she knew just what that did to him. Surely, after all the years they’d spent together, she must have learned. But then, so many of her actions reduced him to nothing more than the hopelessly lost man he was when she’d found him that it was hard to tell.
Wordlessly, Spike looked up at her. There was a pleading in his eyes that he knew he couldn’t hide as he opened his arms to her. She did not smile in triumph. She did not call him pet names. He knew that, whether he’d meant to or not, his so obvious rejection of her closeness had hurt her, somewhere in her demented mind. But still, she came to him.
A part of his mind was soothed by that action. No matter what she did to him, he always welcomed her back. And no matter what he did to her, she always came to his embrace. It was their way and always would be, and he took comfort in that knowledge as she settled her weight against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He folded his arms around her and tried to ignore the remnants of Angelus…smell and marks alike…which marred her perfection.
Something had to be done. The madness had to end. Angelus had to pay. He looked at Dru and he knew he had his answer. Angel had taken Dru from him. Angel had taken the only being Spike loved in all the world and beyond. And that was how Spike was going to get back at him. And Angelus would never even see it coming. Spike only hoped he’d have the balls to do it.
He would bring the slayer to knock Angel on his ass.