Title: Forbidden [Chapter 2]
Author: . sLaYeReTTe .
Disclaimer: Jossy, Jossy Jossy!
Setting: -coughs- right after the first chapter ^_-
Summary: Willow and Dawn find themselves talking…while Buffy constantly fights her attraction to Spike –drools-…while the slayer and the vampire sort things out, two unexpected visitors take a trip to Sunnydale…
Rating: Heavy PG-13 to R
[Chapter 2: A Revelation]
Spike mingled within the piles and stacks of towering crates, piercing blue eyes never lifting from his subject of admiration. The slayer stood stock still, illuminated by the glowing sphere which hovered over an all too quiet Sunnydale, and he sighed, gazing upon the embellished femme he yearned to make his. The quiescent state of the murky ally made Spike shiver with anxiety…not that he was afraid…certainly he wasn't afraid! Perhaps concern for the slayer he reasoned.
Bam!
A crate from the top stack toppled, descending the now unstable heap of wood, and a whole row collapsed atop the blonde vampire. He moaned, lost within the stacks and rendered motionless with the weight of the carved timber. He heard the sound of fighting, and immediately closed his eyes, imagining the battle within his mind, depicting a flawless Buffy, fending off from the nefarious beings, which haunted Sunnydale.
The sound of an 'oomph' reached his ears, and he winced as if feeling the pain himself. He once again struggled to free his pinned arms from the debris, but it was no use. Soon he detected the distinct swirl of dust in the evening breeze, and let out a brief sigh of relief, grateful it was over.
He heard footsteps.
"Buffy, love…a little help?" He rasped, acknowledging the heavy crate, which lay upon his heaving torso.
"Spike!" He couldn't help but smile at the concern in her feminine tone.
"Over here pet," he managed, wincing as the weight began to shift, inhuman strength delivering the slayer to his side.
"Spike…what were you doing here?" She inquired, once he had fully been released from the pressure of the boxes.
"I was taking a stroll, love," he answered nonchalantly, brushing the shavings from his ebony garb.
"Spike…look, you need to stop following me," she growled.
"I was not following you!" He snapped.
"Oh really? What were you doing then?" Slender arms crossed pointedly across her ribs, resting just beneath her bosom.
Spike fought to keep focus.
"I was…er…I was-,"
"Exactly," Buffy snorted, backing up.
"Hold still love, you look perfect right…there," he smiled cynically, scrutiny lowering from her sun-kissed features.
"Spike! You're such a pig!" She crossed impudent fingers across a humble chest and set off, not giving a second look back at her follower.
"And how many times have I heard that?" He raced after her at a light sprint, stopping her with his dominant frame.
"Get out of my way."
"Make me," he challenged, a smile on his face.
"Fine, you asked for it," a single fist contacted his nostrils sending him flying to the damp asphalt as she carelessly masqueraded over his fallen figure, departing from the ally where her hours of sentinel patrol had not even been close to ending.
Spike nursed his swollen nose and cursed angry slurs at the slayer who wasn't there. All is fair in love and war right? Bloody hell. He sat upon the ground, contending and moaning as the pain intensified, multiplying as he attempted to touch it.
"Ouch!" He howled, blatant cry erupting into the empty darkness.
"Save it darling…you'll be needing your screaming voice for tonight," a familiar voice crept into his auricles, barely audible from the conjuring steam in the next building.
"Drusilla?"
"Spikey…mummy's home," the singsong voice he had spent years adoring made him shudder and squirm.
"What are you doing here love?"
"Now, now…you and the slayer. I knew it. I saw it in my visions," still no body to match the voice.
"Dru, come out from where ever the hell you are," Spike growled, growing tired of her tedious games.
"Oh but Spikey…all in due time," her tone broke to a whisper, and from out of nowhere, four burly vampires leapt from the corner, and then, all Spike could see was the steadily contracting darkness, consuming his vision and crippling his body.
* * *
Willow concentrated carefully on the setting before her, blasé scrutiny of the backyard of Buffy's dwelling soaking in the periwinkle hue of the cloudless sky, the crisp autumn breeze, which ruffled her straight crimson locks, and the verbose melodies of the many darting birds. A wistful sigh escaped her pale lips, and her brow furrowed in deep thought, staring into the elusive, blue abyss.
"Willow," Dawn interrupted her thoughts, approaching the seated witch from her left.
"Oh hey Dawnie, have a seat," Willow smiled blandly, resuming her thoughtful gaze.
"You're not…," Dawn trailed off.
"Hmm? Oh no! Using magic? No way…I'm just staring…trying to fight the addiction."
"Oh."
Silence.
"Willow?"
"Yeah Dawn?"
"I'm sorry I…I smacked you," Dawn attempted a good-natured laugh.
"Oh, that…no biggie!" Willow grinned.
"Yeah…and…I think…I'm being unfair to you," Dawn confessed, fiddling with her fingers, not daring to look up.
"Dawn…no, you're not being unfair. If I wouldn't have let it get this far…you wouldn't be stuck in that thing," she motioned to the sling.
"Oh…it's not a big deal…I'm getting used to it," Dawn smiled.
"That's great Dawn…and did I mention that I'm really sorry?"
"Yeah…and did I mention I'm sorry too?"
"Yeah."
"We're even," Dawn whispered.
* * *
Spike awoke in his crypt, and it took him several tries to pinpoint where he was. He attempted to move, but released a cry of pain when a strain on his wrists, legs, and neck held him back. Barbed wire. Bloody hell! The iron lacerated his vulnerable flesh and he cringed as the pain shook him from head to toe, causing him to lie as still as he could.
"Spikey…you're awake from your nap!" The playful voice crept into his left ear and he shuddered.
"Dru, love, let me go," he reasoned.
"Let you go? Mummy's just getting stahted! Oh Spikey…you've been a bad boy," Drusilla giggled and stepped in front of him.
"But Dru-,"
"Ah ah! Sh! I wanted you to be awake for this," Dru drew a knife from its sheath, and watched incessantly as a gleam reflected on its blade. She advanced on his helpless body, gingerly removing his shirt, staring upon the distinct sculpture of his torso, and giggled with delight as she took the knife to his chest, engraving her own name within his flesh, laughing a heinous laugh while he writhed in pain.
"Drusilla," she repeated her own name, and moved to his stomach area, contentedly carving designs in this newly accessed region.
"Dru, please," he pleaded, eyelids shut tight as the pain gnawed at him like an ailment.
"Spike…do you remember the last time I left you?"
"No…," he lied.
"Yes you do…I know you do. You begged me to stay," she grinned.
"Dru…-,"
"Well you don't love mummy anymore…," she pouted.
"Dru, really," Spike attempted pleading once more.
"oof!" Her palm flat against his sculpted cheekbones delivered a shock to his system and his head was whipped to the side.
"Don't play games with me Spike. You made a mistake, and now you will pay," she sent a few more punches and jabs to his face, leaving him brutally and physically 'broken'.
"But don't worry Spikey…it'll be over soon…no wait, I lied," she chuckled at her own humor and continued with the torture, unable to stop herself from what fun she was having.
The last thing Spike remembered was a painful blow to his chest, knocking the wind from his system.
* * *
Drusilla finished his punishment by sunrise, and left the window wide open, wickedly departing as the first rays of light crept onto the floor. Slowly, slowly towards the chair in which he was bound to…and then it hit his chest, causing him to jump, a low, husky howl emitting, inaudible to the outside world.
Angel crouched low under the window and when he heard the exit of the vampiress, he hid his flesh from the sun and jumped through the casement, slamming the window closed upon its hinges and pulling down the drapes. He heaved and took in the wreck his 'progeny' had become with the destruction and cruel intentions of Drusilla.
"Spike…are you okay?" He asked, desperately working with callused digits to free the younger beast of his bindings.
"Buffy…," he mumbled, willing his eyes to open…but they remained swollen closed.
Angel froze.
"Um…no, just relax," Angel murmured.
Spike obeyed, body falling limp as the older vampire released him from his prison, delivering the injured to the couch, digging through a nearby closet to find a blanket.
"Wh…who are you?" Spike managed, lips blown up.
"No one," he retrieved a cup of blood from the refrigerator and willed the youth to sip from the plastic mass.
Once the cup had been drained, Angel left, without a word, heading for the slayer's house.
* * *
"Buffy! Hey!" Willow greeted her friend as she returned from her daytime errands, quite surprised to see Willow up and about.
"Um…hey Wills," Buffy smiled as Willow wrapped her in a hug.
"Oh, I'm collecting my witch craft materials…I'm going to burn them tonight, you're gonna' come watch with me right?"
"Yea, sure," Buffy nodded agreeably.
"I want everything destroyed," Willow added vigorously.
"Okay…"
"Well, I left my one spell book over at Spike's…would you mind running over there and getting it?" Willow asked.
"Sure…no problem," Buffy nodded again, unsure as to what ailed her to answer that.
"Thanks so much!" Willow drew her in another hug, friendly in her embrace.
* * *
"Spike? Knock, knock!" Buffy called as she entered his crypt, surprised to find herself…seemingly alone.
She walked towards the couch where a slight ruffling was heard. She paused and peeked over the back.
"Spike!" Her tone came out shocked, concern and worry hitting her like a kick in the gut and she instinctually rushed to his side.
"Buffy…," he murmured.
"Spike…what happened?" She choked, withdrawing her hand upon his chest as he moaned in pain.
She slowly peeled away the blanket from his sweaty body, devastated to find it drenched from hydrosis. Carvings were clearly inflicted upon his skin, and she winced to find the name Drusilla across his chest.
"Dru…," he managed, coughing from the effort of speech, still unable to open his eyes.
"Sh," her finger gently grazed his lips, silencing his parted labrums.
He struggled to move his body, but she silenced all attempted motion and lifted his peroxide blonde cranium, setting it down on her lap after she sat, sinking into the aging mattress. For moments they sat in silence, one hand rested on his cheek, the other stroking through blonde tresses as she consoled his pain, and whispered her thoughts into the falling darkness.
She lowered her head, and he stirred as the 'shampoo commercial' golden locks fell in a veil over their faces and her lips hovered over his.
"Buffy," Angel had halted halfway towards the couch, stunned by the sight he saw.
"Angel!" She jumped up in surprise, causing Spike to howl in pain.
"Oh, I'm sorry Spike!" she slowly laid his head down, stroking his forehead.
"Angel…I didn't know you were here," she stammered.
"Same to you," he nodded.
"Angel…when did this happen to Spike?" Buffy gestured to the couch.
"Last night…Dru caught him after patrol I think…I found him in here this morning," Angel answered.
"Oh…has he eaten?"
"Yeah…I'll watch over him tonight," Angel offered.
"No…I will," Buffy took the responsibility, "I'll be over this way anyway," she added.
"Right."
She waved and slipped from the crypt, thankful to meet fresh air and space.
* * *
That night, Buffy returned, opening the window, allowing the air to circulate throughout the musty domicile. She slid over to the couch, and kissed him. He groaned, but found the strength to return her kiss, and then she moved to his neck, kissing away the pain on his chest, arms and legs, and for it, the hybrid nemesis was grateful.
He was drowning in her. Her smell…her affection…and it made his head swim…he felt light headed, and fought not to pass out. He indulged in their physical contact and whimpered as her tongue found his, once again, he felt somewhat restored.
Buffy couldn't believe what she was doing. She was kissing Spike willingly, and her impetus instincts drove her in for more. Swollen fingers fumbled clumsily at her blouse and she helped him, unbutton the silky material. She slid from her alabaster tank top, and helped him once more when he ripped desperately at her skirt, frustrated with the amount of fabric he had to tear away.
"Slayer…," he grumbled, pulling her close.
[Okay….watta ya think? ^_^ Whoo….!!]
