They spent an inordinate amount of time sitting around being puzzled. While it had taken some time under the safety of Giles’ roof for the panicked hearts to resume a normal beat, there had yet to be anything as productive as explanations. Spike, having gotten used to near miss heart thumping events long ago, sat impatiently waiting for them all to get some kind of action about them.
“Not that I want to point out the urgency at all, but don’t you lot think you should at least talk to the chit and find out what all the potential grizzly death was about?” Spike suffered the Watcher’s glare good-naturedly and flung a casual arm across Buffy’s shoulders.
“Would it kill you to not be so embarrassingly blunt on occasion?” Giles narrowed his eyes, knowing that he wasn’t going to win any argument with a conscienceless vampire and wondered, not for the first time, what on earth Buffy saw in him.
“Already dead,” Spike taunted, then looked immediately chastened as Buffy’s elbow made crunching contact with his ribs. “But I’ll try and tone down the seductive need to make fun of you lot.” A pause. “For Buffy.”
The Slayer hit him with a watery, but grateful smile and Spike felt himself melt into vampire goo.
“Right,” Giles stuttered, feeling completely wrong-footed now that his enormous potential for putting Spike in his place was all but promised at an end. He was almost saddened, and then the next instant buoyed up again with the knowledge that someone with so much automatic snark could unlikely just turn it off like tap water. With the essentials now seemingly sorted, Giles caught sight of the newcomer to their group and blushed under her dark-eyed stare. Quite inconveniently his brain chose then to catch up with his adrenaline and the significance of what was happening finally sorted itself from the blind panic to make sure Jenny made it away from Angelus safely.
“Forgive me if I’m being rather forward, Jenny, but what pray tell were you doing in the school so late at night?” Giles felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as the dots began to connect and the teacher’s face flushed.
She looked cornered, scared almost, but then took a deep fortifying breath and revealed her secrets.
“I’ve been working on translating the soul curse so that I might be able to return it to Angel.” She looked nervously between each of those she already knew and then stopped on Spike, her eyes widening in wonder as he grinned encouragingly at her. A vampire in their midst—and one absent a soul. She had a long history of knowing exactly how rare it was for Angel to have one. Well, not so much rare as unique and yet here sat a vampire who had been almost central in helping her escape Angelus’s attack with her life and limb very much intact. And not once had he tried to snack on her. “Do I know you?” she finally directed at a thoroughly amused Spike and he tilted his head to the side to better study her.
“Nope,” he answered, though with a glint of recognition in his eye. “But I suspect your ancestors would have.”
Understanding came over Jenny and her body posture went rigid in the chair. “You’re William the Bloody? And you’re sitting here next to the Slayer? Oh God, what’s going on?” Jenny didn’t bother to hide her agitation, her gaze flickering back and forth between them uneasily, wondering if they’d been vamped in the two days they’d been missing.
“The one and only,” Spike answered, interested in the way her heart rate went through the roof. It was somewhat gratifying to find new people he could scare without even trying. Have them sitting in a wet patch derived from his name only.
“The situation with Spike is rather…unusual,” Giles conceded as he cut in. There was a tickle of urgency he was unable to ignore—and not so much for finding out about the progress of the translation. He felt betrayed, wondering what the link here was that he should have known about. Apparently it would be the first time something went on within the Council’s sphere of far reaching vision and they’d failed to make the obvious leap and put him in the know. Unless they’d intentionally kept Ms. Calendar’s involvement in this side of the business close to the chest.
“How is it that you not only have an interest in Angelus’s curse, but also possess the knowledge and means to decipher it?” He couldn’t hold back the glare, challenging himself to rein in the full extent of his frustration and anger as he waited for the final shoe to drop. There was no denying that Jenny had been somewhat involved since Angel had changed to his more evil side, but to what extent, they’d had no idea. No possible chance of knowing that she could be so embroiled in the situation as to come across a solution so potent.
“I was sent here,” she admitted slowly, “to keep track of Angelus, and to make sure he didn’t stop feeling the effects of the misery he enforced on my people.”
Shock settled on the group and Willow and Xander aimed identical expressions of uncertain concern to Buffy as she jumped from the sofa and glared at her teacher.
“You knew he could lose his soul and what? Sat back and waited for the entertainment?” Buffy was a picture of repressed rage wrapped convincingly in hurt and she was so caught up in it she didn’t even notice Spike’s eyes as they narrowed angrily.
“Of course not. But I was bound by my people to keep my mission a secret. It was not allowed for Angel to find out who I was—what I meant to him and his existence. There has been no joy in seeing what that monster did to you, Buffy. I had no way of knowing that sharing that kind of moment with you would be what would break the curse.” The teacher’s eyes were sad, the irises darker as she accepted the extent of her betrayal in keeping silent and the effect on these new people she cared about.
“Wha?” Shell-shocked Buffy stood totally still, soaking up that addition to the knowledge having. “It was me? I mean, I know it was me. But—”
“You gave him a singular moment of happiness,” the gypsy confided, despite the churning in her gut.
“Way to go, Buff. A hundred years and he gets the happy with—” Xander’s expression darkened as his mind caught up to his mouth and he realised what he was congratulating Buffy on. “Really, forget I opened my mouth. So not something to be proud of!” He turned away and slumped dejectedly back in his chair, comfy for the rest of the disturbing unfolding of the many truths.
“How could you keep such an important thing secret, Jenny? I-I thought we were…friends.” Giles implored her for answers that made sense to him and all she could offer was a wobbly smile of penance.
“Friends, Rupert? I thought we were more than that?” She was only human, and a vulnerable one emotionally at that. “If I’d betrayed my people, they would have cast me out. This is my family. What would you have had me do?”
“Warn us that a bloody homicidal maniac could well be a consequence of my Slayer’s involvement with him, for starters. And then possibly some intelligence on how to reassert the former state of affairs.” There was no forgiveness or understanding in his tone, and he felt justified with his harshness as tears began to run down Buffy’s cheeks. That he had no clue if it was in mourning that she herself had caused this current disaster, or the fact that her mother had become such a tragic casualty of that action was not important. She’d been ignorant of both possibilities and that was enough to have his sympathy.
“Oh this is bleeding priceless. You bunch of hypocritical wankers. You’re gonna be down on teach here just because she stuck by her clan and carried out her duty? Yeah, ‘cause none of you are sworn to secrecy on life-saving missions and all with the mysterious actions. I can see shattered glass houses everywhere. I’m off, don’t wait up kiddies.” And Spike huffed out of the flat, irritation adding an extra energetic burst to his step. As much as he loved Buffy, her getting all cut up over that wanker was more than he wanted to watch or deal with. Now that he had his strength back and had half a chance of defending himself, he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Spike?” Her heartbroken voice held just the right note of fear as his back taunted her.
“Later, Slayer.” And he was gone, his coat just barely flapping through the door frame before he slammed the door shut behind him.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Would you shut the hell up?” Face almost frightening in its fury, Angelus paced and ended up riling himself up more than he was calming himself down.
Drusilla whimpered, and then moaned as she desperately clutched her head. “Daddy’s angry,” she stated confidently and it was enough to stop Angelus mid-stride. He turned incredulous eyes on her and almost choked on his sarcastic burst of laughter.
“Gee Dru, you think?” He wanted to hit something, he wanted to make somebody hurt. He looked longingly at Dru and flinched at her high-pitched warbling of danger and the stars and wondered what the fuck Spike had been thinking to claim her as his destiny. The little try-hard must have been desperate if he had to cling to Dru’s pussy hairs for over a century. Just one day and he’d wanted to stake her. If he hadn’t trained her so well on how to please him he might well have resolved that situation. Might have been funny to see Roller Boy cry.
Just like that his mood had improved. Nothing like a good plan to knock the wind right out of Spike’s sails to make him feel better.
“You know, I’m really getting sick of my every plan being fucked up by that annoying slayer and her ridiculous crippled side-kick…and the humans…God, why won’t they just die?” Angelus resumed his pacing, desperately trying to piece together another plan that might take out the teacher and any inkling she had of crossing him and jamming him full of soul again. He felt a horrible sense of foreboding that that window of opportunity had whistled as it passed him by. Now that she knew not to be somewhere unprotected after dark, she’d be holed up somewhere safe. His every thwarted attempt to take down the Slayer and make her cry right up to the final event was pissing him off. The only shining moment had been his abduction, torment and final turning of her mother. He was positive that that kind of thing a girl could never recover from.
“Where is Joyce, anyway? She was gone when I got up tonight.”
Dru looked suddenly terrified and her whimpering calls for forgiveness as usual made absolutely no sense to him. He was blazingly angry just the same, because this was Dru and if Dru was twittering this bad and beginning to cry, she knew exactly what was going on and furthermore that he would be furious about it. So what could he do but satisfy her expectations.
“What did you do, Dru?”
She backed away at the harsh look on his face, at the sneering curve of his bottom lip. He knew better than to expect an answer that would make sense and accepted that he’d find out what the situation was in due course. All he could do at this point was make sure Dru got her punishment, because they both knew unless she was properly chastened, she couldn’t even come close to being a good girl.
He took a moment to admire the blood red of her velvet dress before viciously tearing it from bodice to waist. The rest of the fabric slid dejectedly over her hips and Dru took a small step back, stumbling on the fabric and landed on her bare butt.
“You are not trying to get away from me, are you, Dru?” His eyes flashed amber and he felt a snarl rumble passed his lips as she shook her head frantically. “Well, that’s good then. Come here,” he demanded and she was on her feet and before him in less than a second, making every effort to hide the twisted pleasure she felt at being ordered and abused. “On your knees, and make sure it’s good or I’ll have to make it hurt just a little bit harder.”
Without waiting for her to slowly take him into her mouth, Angelus thrust his hips and roared in satisfaction as her gagging reflex—still active even in death—pulsed around him and made him ejaculate fast. He loved this first immediate release. Loved to see his childe naked with her lips latched around his cock and keeping him up. She was perfect at distracting him from his shortcomings and truth be told, it was the only thing that had saved her. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was this good to Spike, or if the selfish little fuck was too giving to treat her like the subservient bitch she was.
She managed to swallow skilfully, not even a drop slipping passed her lips. If she hadn’t he would have hit her half way across the room, knowing from humiliating experience that his load was miniscule compared to most men. Little cock, little cum shots and his fury wound up to devastating heights yet again. He grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged her to the bedroom, not caring that her tits scraped over the hard stone floor and she was crying for him to have mercy. Oh, he’d show her mercy. When he was finished she’d be calling him Mercy.
And she’d be drowning in red when she did it.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N...thank you thank you to everyone for commenting on the last chapter. It certainly meant a lot, particularly to see people I haven't seen for such a long time. I often feel like I lost everyone when I had my baby in December and I know I have been slow to return to schedule (if I ever really had one) but I appreciate all that stand by me and remind me my fic is being read by something other than a number. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Megan