Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you all for reading and thanks to everyone who has reviewed.

I'm sorry this update has taken so long, but I finally have the new chapter of this story here it is.

I hope everyone enjoys.
Spike jerked back to consciousness like Satan himself was hot on his heels.

Actually it was less devilish and more watery…a freezing cold jug of water to be exact.

And apparently someone had poured it over his head.

The freezing liquid stung his every cell and it felt as if it was burning through his skin, eating its way down to his bones.

“Bloody hell!” Spike cried out, heaving himself up to a sitting position as the top of his head almost collided with his father’s nose. “What the bleeding hell is wrong with you?”

With an angry huff Spike shucked off his long coat, and pulled off his T-shirt revealing toned muscle covered by pale skin.

The water cascaded down his hair and face, dripping from his body like hundreds of tiny waterfalls, coating his body in a thin film of moisture that glistened in the dull light of the study.

Ethan laughed and walked around his desk, flopping into his chair while his son struggled to his feet. Spike could still feel the alcohol flowing through his veins thick and fast and it was leaving all the edges slightly blurred.

“Wrong with me, son? I’m not the one stumbling around drunk in the middle of the bloody day.” Ethan said, pouring himself a whiskey. “Besides, you wouldn’t wake up and the floor needs a wash. Two birds with one stone.” The dark haired man laughed at his own joke with a wry chuckle, but let his face fall when he saw the thunderous look that Spike was giving him.

“Yes, stone cold bloody sober you are.” Spike hissed sarcastically, gesturing to the glass of amber liquid in his father’s hand. “Wanker!” He added under his breath.

His father heard the hushed comment but merely raised an eyebrow at the thorn in his side. Spike always seemed to choose the most inopportune moments to appear and ruin his fun. Ethan’s cock was still hard and throbbing in his pants and as soon as his son departed he had every intention of picking up exactly where he left off.

Now…if he could just get rid of his boy extra fast…

The blond shook his head like a dog to dry off and sat down in one of Ethan’s office chairs, much to the older man’s displeasure.

“So are you going to tell me why you’re here? I thought you would still be with Drusilla in England.” Ethan asked with feigned interest.

“Don’t try and pretend that you care about what the bloody hell me and Dru are up to, Ethan.” He said, stressing his father’s name. “All you care about is that I interrupted your little grope session with that chit.”

Both men’s heads snapped round to look at the small blonde who had been forgotten in all the commotion of the last twenty minutes.

The young girl was seemingly trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, huddled in the corner with her arms wrapped around her middle and her back pressed tightly against the wall.

A tiny trembling shudder was detectable if you looked close enough, but when she noticed the attention focused on her, she raised her chin defiantly.

She was a pretty little thing in Spike’s eyes. He hadn’t really noticed when he’d come into the room on account of the fact that he could see three of everyone and everything, and also because she had an Ethan attached to her.

But now that he could get a good look, in spite of the fact that she looked as if she had been dragged backward through a barn, she was radiant in her beauty.

Spike shook his head to clear it. He really must have had too much to drink if he was thinking like that about one his dad’s bits of fluff.

“Oh, dear Buffy. I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sure you must be devastated.” Ethan sneered mockingly, receiving only a glare from the girl.

He tried to almost rape her, and he would have succeeded if his apparent wastrel of a son hadn’t unintentionally intervened.

And now he was…what?

Joking with her as if they were some kind of buddies?

“Feel free to keep right on with the neglecting, asshole.” Buffy murmured petulantly.

Ethan laughed but his expression morphed into a slight frown, as if daring her to challenge him further.

She looked at both father and son with intense hostility before dropping her gaze to the floor.

How the hell was she going to get out of this?

“Who is the bint anyway?” Spike asked, snatching the bottle of whiskey from his father and chugging it straight from the flacon without even bothering to use a glass. He ignored his father’s reprimanding glare as he put his booted feet on the old varnished desk top without a care.

“Don’t try to change the subject, William.” Ethan warned. “I want to know why you’re here.”

Slamming the bottle down onto the desk, Spike sighed and combed his fingers through his already mussed and still damp hair.

“Bloody Dru dumped me.” He said feeling his temper flare once again as he saw the image that had been emblazoned onto his mind the previous day.

His girl and his cousin writhing together in ecstasy.

“I wondered when she would wake up and see some sense.” Ethan joked but he only received a nasty glare from his son.

“Piss off you sodding git!” Spike said. “Dru’s my world and without her I’m nothing.”

Ethan sighed. He’d heard the ‘Dru’s my world and without her I’m nothing’ speech a million times over the past ten years.

He didn’t really understand what his son saw in the woman.

In Ethan’s experience Drusilla Giles wasn’t even all that good in bed. She had always reminded him of a limp rag. It wasn’t as if she didn’t try, the girl was always very…pliable. But Drusilla had never been able really been able to bake Ethan’s cookies.

Of course his son lived in absolute and blissful ignorance about his clandestine trysts with Drusilla. Not that Ethan cared if the boy found out. In fact…it would make for rather an enjoyable watch.

“Why don’t you take one of girls for a spin?” Ethan suggested, as he tapped his fingers against the desk top, already bored with his son’s moaning. “You had fun with Faith last time, didn’t you? Now there’s a right little goer. Ooh, those thighs!”

Spike grimaced and scratched the back of his neck.

The ‘girls’, as Ethan called them, were high class hookers that his father owned in body and soul. Most of the high level businessmen in Los Angeles swore by the ‘Rayne Girls’ but Spike often swore by avoiding them except for in emergencies.

Although they were fun for a little while, sometimes spending too much time with them became torturous.

They had no spark inside them.

Most of them were just empty shells trained how to blow a guy’s load and then toddle off without question.

It was the one of Ethan’s activities that sickened him the most.

They couldn’t excite Spike.

Not like his Dru did.

“I don’t want any other bloody girl, Dad. I want Dru.”

Ethan groaned with frustration, his voice becoming harsh.

“Well Dru doesn’t want you, does she? Or she would be here begging for you to come back to her. But she’s not. She broke off your relationship.” Ethan took a swig of whiskey. “You’re a Rayne, son. You’re not that sniveling little boy you once were, running after a chit who doesn’t want you. Be a man.”

His father had always been that way with him. Ever since he was a small boy, he had always been judged by his dad’s perverse standards and he never met any of them. To Ethan, being a man meant raping, pillaging and destroying whoever crossed your path. It meant not having feelings beyond lust and greed, and taking pleasure in other people’s pain.

While, of course, some of that had rubbed off on the younger Rayne, Spike hated the reminder that he was bad-by-blood and could never be any better.

Losing his temper, Spike surged to his feet and picked up the chair he was sitting on, flinging it across the room and smirking in satisfaction as the wood shattered against the wall.

“Fine!” He yelled. “I will be a bloody man. I’ll take one of your sodding girls and shag the bloody living daylights out of the bint until she can’t walk and I can’t remember that bitch, Dru’s, bloody fucking name.”

In all honesty, Spike didn’t believe that was possible, but he was so sick of his father that the words spewed forth from his mouth without him having any control over them.

He paused, panting in his alcohol induced fury. “In fact, I’ll take that one.” He pointed to Buffy who inhaled sharply and shrank back away from him.

Striding over to her, heedless of his father’s calls for him to wait, he grabbed the young girl and pulled her to him, roughly jerking her body around, even as she fruitlessly struggled in his grip.

Leaning his head down and licking the shell of her ear with his soft tongue, he made her shiver, and neither of them was sure if it was in pleasure or disgust.

Pushing her ahead of him, he thrust her through the door and out into the elaborately decorated hallway of the mansion.

As they exited the stuffy office, the door swining heavily shut behind them, Spike grinned sleazily.

“Looks like you and I are gonna have some bloody good fun, love.”

Buffy held back the tears at the thought of what was going to happen to her.

Just how had her life come to this?

Chapter End Notes:
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