"So what do you think?" Angel grinned, an eyebrow lifting as the conclusion to his proposition was delivered.
Spike snickered in response. "I think you're off your bleedin' nut, man," he laughed. "Even that Anointed brat could come up with a better plan, and we all know how well that turned out" the blonde vampire scoffed again. "I especially don't like the part where I'm the one who becomes this bird's potential love slave. Shouldn't that be your job, mate?" eyes narrowed, the undead badass exuberantly displayed his dislike for Angelus' scheme.
"Spike, you're still not seeing the big picture here," Angel said, straightening from his leaning position against some old, battered table. "If we do this my way, the Slayer will be dead in a matter of days" he glanced up at Drusilla with a wicked smile. "And then, this town is ours" hands pressed together at their fingertips, Angel continued pacing toward Spike. "And, I know I've been off my game for a while now, but I remember enough to know that owning a town that sits on top of a Hellmouth isn't exactly a worthless victory"
"Oo," Drusilla cooed, blank face suddenly illuminating as Angelus' words allowed for better comprehension of his intentions. "No more having our tea parties interrupted by the mean girl and her naughty puppies… Mummy and daddy will set the rules instead of her" although her droning was somewhat incessant, the black widow had a point indeed. "But…" she said, eyes suddenly taking on the pouting canine appearance she often used when things weren't going her way. "Angel… I don't want to share my precious Spike… He's mine… No one else can have him… Not even a little taste," she insisted, suddenly becoming firm.
"Dru…" Angel practically groaned, though the annoyed reverberation was kept silent. Instead, his eyes danced with telltale suggestions over her slender form, devious grin shaping itself into a seductive pose. "We already talked about this, don't you remember?"
"Shh…" Drusilla hissed, an equally knowing smile attempting to hide from sight. "Boys who tell must be severely punished"
Anticipating the fact that a surely saucy remark would flutter from Angel's lips if he didn't do something, Spike cut in as quickly as possible. "So, let me get this straight" exercising no caution in the volume of his voice, the same daring attitude was applied to his narrowed vision. "Dru here puts the whammy on me, as well as Buffy and her little friends. I then…" he stopped, needing to swallow hard in disgust. "I then take a shot at seducing her, lead the Slayer back here, and then you two knock her sodden lights out?"
"That's right" Angelus replied, voice somewhat tight. "Glad to know you're at a six-year-old's comprehension level, Spike… One of these days you might actually be useful" he smirked.
"Yeah, well, fact is I think it's a bollixed idea… Why don't you just jump her in an alleyway and slit her throat?" face twisted, amused now that Angel had become the six-year-old in question, Spike settled further into his chair, hoping his smug attitude would change the killer's mind.
"Because she'll be expecting that, Spike. How many vampires do you think have tried that, only to end up as a pile of dust?" realising that he was undermining his own strength, Angel quickly got to his next point. "Of course, I could pull it off without a bruise… But where's the fun in that?"
"Oh, it's fun you want?" Spike scoffed, head tilting back in partial thought. "All right then… why not kidnap one of her friends, lure the Slayer down here, slap a nice pair of manacles 'round those scrawny little wrists, and torture her for a week or so?" shrugging as he finished, the vampire took a moment to admire his own genius ploy.
"That's what I've been saying all night, Spike" Angelus countered, voice riddled with irritation now, its volume rising in accordance. Hands dropping from their lingering position near Drusilla's accented shoulders, the pompous poof took a stride away from her, obviously the type who needed space in order to rant. "The only difference is… If we do this my way, those friends of Buffy's you mentioned?" Angel spun on his heel, now fronting Spike. "They'll trust you…" he bent forward with a lethargic step toward his bleached comrade, immediately straightening after the movement. "As opposed to kidnapping one of them, where Buffy could easily charge in here with the rest of her Reject-Squad, making it a six-on-three fight". Angel's brown eyes melted into a sea of black, pure inkblots amidst an alabaster backdrop, scarlet lips becoming a coiled smirk of contempt. "Gee Spike, with plans like that it's no wonder you haven't been able to kill her"
"Yeah, well, I don't care how good this plan of yours is… I'm not setting myself up as the Slayer's lap dog… Unlike some people, I prefer to stay on one side of the fight" he sneered, eyes locking dangerously with Angelus' onyx stones, gaze lingering long enough to get his point across… You might be able to order those weak-hearted excuses for vampires around, but I'm not scared of you, mate. Not giving his grandsire the slightest opportunity to form some sort of retort, Spike instantly spun on his wheels, red-painted contraption carrying him out of sight in a fluent motion. "Coming, Dru?" he managed to call over his shoulder, dignity not allowing his cranium to swivel.
Drusilla's first instinct was to reply, ruby-stained lips falling open with the automatic motion. Her voice refused to effervesce though, all threads of attention tied into a firm knot as Angelus' hand found her wrist. Cerulean orbs, always feral in both an insane and animalistic style, were turned upon her sire, crimson lips held partially agape in a new form of anticipation.
"Dru?" Angel's voice was hushed yet suggestive, refusing to ask the question he already knew was sprawled out in his malicious gaze.
"Now who's the bad boy? Sneaking around, planting little whispers in my head" she grinned, apparently understanding the unspoken subtext.
"Thought that's what you always liked best about me" although the words would have been innocently flirtatious when originating from any human pair of lips, Angelus was able to contaminate them with a dark edge. "And you know, since I've been… Missing in action for so long, I was hoping you might remind me how it's done" his voice dropped to a pure whisper then, eyes and fingers fluttering suggestively along her slender body.
"Mmm…" Drusilla mused, able to appreciate the electric effects of his roaming digits despite her mental ailments. "Perhaps during recess… Mustn't play now though… Teacher's expecting me" although she never displayed reluctance with her vocal chords, the dark beauty made sure to point out that Angel's attempt at seducing her was incredibly effective.
"All right…" Angel smirked, sensual mouth lifting at its left corner. "Until then, you know there's something I need you to do for me…" the right-hand side of his lips joined its companion then, eyebrows lifting as well so that he wore an alluring yet calculating smile.
"Yes…" Drusilla said with a slight giggle, painted fingernails beginning to trace a path over Angel's cheek. "You want me to make Spike play nice with the Slayer… And then…" the comprehensive glint in her midnight orbs became intoxicated with suggestions of sex, wandering digits beginning to feel consumed by the sensation of Angelus' epidermis. "We can have our fun" her smile was razor-sharp, blatantly begging for even the faintest helping of what Angel had to offer. And in her mind, there was nothing wrong with that.
Unlike Sunnydale's populous of rogue vampires, Drusilla had an acute knowledge on the near-invincible bond between sire and childe. Just as Spike's essence was tied to that of his raven-haired temptress, the same vixen was bound to her creator. Abilities in lovemaking and one's pledge to darkness made no difference in Drusilla's attraction to Angelus. No one could change vampire chemistry; nothing could prevent flames of ice from erupting on the dark beauty's skin at Angel's every touch. The sire bond was eternal, unforgettable; it was alluring and erotic; in many ways, the bind was pure bliss. And it was next to impossible to destroy.
"So you'll do it for me then?" Angelus whispered, not wanting a single syllable to be overheard.
Drusilla nodded in response, locks of ebon twirling about her porcelain visage.
"That's my girl" he smirked, voice still below any human's range of hearing. "And you know what to do? You remember everything I told you last night?"
Drusilla nodded, ivory teeth glinting behind her maniacal smile.
"Good… Now run off to bed… Don't want to keep our… plan… waiting" he said smoothly, replacing the word 'bait' with 'plan' at the last moment, thinking it might help to avoid any questions. In all truth, he didn't give a damn if Spike's remains were found in an urn after a few days' time. But Drusilla cared, and therefore didn't need to hear anything that might tip her decision in favour of the bleached vampire.
Almost reluctantly, the dark angel spun out of Angel's lingering grasp. Practically hypnotized, the chestnut-haired vampire could do nothing but watch as she was swept away on her own accord, shapely hips swaying amidst some unfelt breeze. Definitely one of the pleasures he'd missed while infected with that… soul.
¤+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+¤
That… ponce! Spike raged within himself, putting forth an enormous effort to stop any guttural sounds from piercing his lips. Who the Hell does he think he is? Gets rid of that bugger of a soul and suddenly thinks he can give me orders! Thinks he can have whatever… or whoever… he wants. The last comment set his nerve endings aflame. Although he found it difficult, Spike could handle receiving the odd order here and there; he could handle Angelus' arrogant attitude on most occasions. But a very bold, very firm line was drawn when it came to idly watching while the brown-haired sire decided to seduce Drusilla.
For the first time in countless years, Spike found himself missing Darla. He and the matriarch had never made it their business to grow particularly fond of each other. In all truth, Spike had been relieved when the overbearing blonde had said her final goodbyes, ironically making it back to Sunnydale decades later. But at least she'd kept Angelus busy, kept his constantly wandering eye on a rather short leash.
Of course, things were different now. Darla was nothing more than ashes in the wind, and a newly insane Angelus found only a wheel-chaired obstacle between him and the ebon-cloaked huntress. Well, a partially handicapped obstacle. Angel didn't even take issue to the fact that Spike could walk now, retreating to the crimson cage only occasionally. And he wonders why I don't fancy this amnesia scheme of his… Spike mused, shaking his head with an airy chuckle.
Hours could have been spent brooding over his present situation, but the peroxide-blonde vampire was suddenly halted in his task, every thought process coming to an abrupt end. It was then that he felt them, the trio… no… quartet of tremors that attacked his spine, having found some way to penetrate the cushioned seating of his wheelchair. Not again… although aggravation was obvious in the vampire's mental tone, Spike could hardly push away the quakes of pleasure that soon replaced his shivering.
Buffy. Eight days had passed since his encounter with her in the dank alleyway, and Spike still found himself frequently infected with sensations that were unique to her. He would enter a room and suddenly feel as if he were standing in a peach orchard, completely drowning in one of the many characteristics to her unique scent. Or he'd be relaxing in bed, refusing to allow the day to start, when the nape of his neck would begin to tingle, mirroring the caress of her powerful fingers on his creamy complexion.
Eight days of such mental torture, and he still couldn't understand what conjured the apparitions. It certainly wasn't love; no, he reserved that brainless, idiotic feat for the prancing poof. Was it physical need? Physical attraction? Perhaps he was simply afflicted with a sinful case of lust. Truthfully, it didn't matter what was causing the random haunts; Spike just wanted them to end. It wasn't right, he told himself, to feel anything for the Slayer except unconditional loathing and the need to taste her blood.
"Spike?" Drusilla's eternally timid voice interrupted any further thought on the Slayer.
Turning to face his century-old lover, Spike realised he was cloaked in shadow, thus making it difficult to find him. "Right here, pet" he said softly, complete mood swing occurring immediately. He was absolutely blind when it came to her love; never once did he undertake the thought that there were two sides to Drusilla's growing affair. Angelus' seduction, and her acceptance of his cocky allure. No, it was Angel's fault, and only his fault.
Shadows rippled as Drusilla began navigating through them, evening gown fluttering in her wake where the material did not hug her lavishing curves. Seconds passed, and Spike's eyes remained secured to her form, completely content with simply watching his lover create such exquisite movements. "Spike?" her voice caught him slightly off guard, and the vampire gave a grunt in response, snapping out of his mesmerized state.
"Come here, my precious…" Drusilla lowered her fragile form onto the oversized bed as she spoke, completely leading Spike away from any suspicion in her tone. She knew that her beauty captivated him, and used every ounce of such attraction to her advantage. Curling her lips before speaking again, wild eyes were fixed upon Spike's silhouetted contours as she lightly patted the mattress' surface, deceiving him with every movement she performed. "I've got a new trick to show you…"