"Dog's of War"
Spike's eyes fluttered open in response to movement beside him. Immediately his body tensed, preparing for an unknown attacker. It took only a second for him to realize that it was only Dru, shifting in her sleep. He allowed his body to slip back to its relaxed state as he gazed above him at the dark blue canopy covering the finely ornamented four-poster bed he and Dru shared. Covering them were satin sheets softer than a baby's soft neck, and the mattress was gloriously comfortable. Looking around the bedchamber, he took in the elegance and refinement of all the furnishings. The marble fireplace, the antique furniture, the masterfully painted portraits framed in intricately handcrafted woodwork trimmed in gold and silver, all these things bespoke the lavishness of the room Spike now used as his own.
Spike smiled to himself. Everything was falling into place just the way he had planned. Through a bit of extreme good luck and some of his own "devious" charm he had secured himself and his life mate the perfect ringside seat. A seat for what he was sure would be a wonderfully violent and supremely terrifying collision of the ideals and policies of a power- hungry, self-important collection of thugs and hotheads calling themselves a government; and the reality of what these excessive ideals and policies meant in terms of physical force. And not only was Spike going to be a witness and beneficiary of the chaos and bloodshed, but he had put himself in a position to actually participate in this gleefully torturous affair. Only a few weeks had passed since the night on the train when Spike had introduced himself so graciously to the German SS, but in that time Spike had used his influence and newly created connections to find his place in the vast German Wermacht. To Spike's pleasure he learned that the Colonel he had turned, the one with the fondness for young girls, was not only extremely obedient, but that he was not without connections and value. Colonel Konigsfeld had been enroute to Paris to attend to some SS business and then to move out to Tendrecoeur to take over operations there.
Tendrecoeur itself was just a small village some 30 clicks from Paris, but about a mile outside of town was a château or large manor, which was now being used by the Gestapo as a central base for this region. The Manor house had belonged to Jean Luc Tendrecoeur, a wealthy industrialist who had spoken out against the German occupation from the start. Since his family had long held power in this region of France he believed he would be out of reach of the Nazi strong-arms. He couldn't have been more wrong. One night he mysteriously disappeared from the face of the earth and everything he owned immediately became property of the Third Reich. This particular estate proved to be a prime headquarters with its luxurious surroundings and favorable location. Tendrecoeur, the village, was a considerable industrial hub - surprising for such a small town. This meant excellent railroad access as well as manufacturing facilities that could easily be converted to wartime production and plenty of warehouse space. Outwardly, the Germans seemed interested merely in the production value of this town. However, unknown to the French people, very sinister plans were in the works. The Gestapo was indeed interested in the railroad access and the warehouses, but not for the number of vehicles or ammunition produced or transported. The cargo with which they were concerned was a bit more.. human.
He had wandered off into his thoughts but was brought back to reality by the soft touch of cool lips on his shoulder. Turning to look at his brunette lover as she worked gentle kisses down his collarbone and across his pale, defined chest. She stopped momentarily at his nipples. Using her teeth, she tugged playfully with one, then the other, before moving on. When she reached his stomach, she changed direction and progressed back up to his exposed throat. Stopping only when she reached his lips. During her progression, she had moved so that she was straddling his midsection, the sheet pulled up to the middle of her back. With each hand sheboth hands, Dru pinned his arms to the bed and attacked his mouth with hers. Their naked bodies pressed together beneath the sheets. Biting, licking and pulling at his lips with a viciousness born of hunger as much as passion, she moved by touch, her eyes closed. Spike returned her ferocity but his eyes remained open, watching her, tasting and feeling everything. Her motions were drawing him in. It was as if she were a cobra dancing to the charmer's song. Every action deliberate, yet smooth and seductive, as she moved over his body. Her lips and touch smothered him and released him at the same time.
Then suddenly she stopped. She straightened up, flinging her head back. Her hands at her temples. Eyes still closed, she began to hum softly; the hum turned to a moan. Spike knew what this meant and he couldn't help but be disappointed. Her head began to swing back and forth as she rolled away from him. He sat up, setting his bare feet on the cold hardwood floor.
"What do you see, pet?" He wasn't quite able to keep the frustration from his voice.
Dru now lay on her back with the sheet pulled up to her chin and wrapped around her. Her eyes were staring off into nothing. In a dreamy voice as if she wasn't aware of Spike but simply speaking to the room. "The big bad dog. He's come to bark at Spikey's toy soldier." Her brow furled up. "Oooo, he's gonna be mean to my boy. I'm not liking him. Make him go away Spike?" pouted Dru. With this last plea she reached up to his face and caressed his cheek.
"Of course I will, luv." Spike was reaching down to grab his pants.
"He wants to put a leash on your pet colonel. Woof woof." Dru began to fade as she spoke. Snuggling into the pillow, she curled her knees up into her chest and drifted off to sleep.
Spike stood above her dressed in black breeches and a white long sleeved shirt still unbuttoned and untucked. Combing his hand through her hair, he shook his head bemusedly. He was buttoning the cuffs when a loud pounding at the outside door broke him away from his analysis of Dru's vision. With an annoyed glare he pulled a uniform coat over his shoulders. Taking his time, he bent to step into a pair of military boots. Running his hand over the toe he noticed they were in dire need of a good polish. Giving an apathetic shrug he turned once again to the pounding at the door. Passing through the antechamber, he stopped before the enormous oak door. He placed his hand on the gilded knob and paused, intentionally forcing the person on the other side to wait that much longer. It was apparent from the increasing force of the raps that the person was becoming agitated.
Finally when it sounded as though the visitor was going to put their fist through the solid oak, Spike abruptly pulled the door open. Before him, stood an irritated, red-faced Captain Nielen.
"The colonel has requested your presence, Lieutenant Schmidt." Nielen spit the words out with obvious animosity, emphasizing the fact that it was a request and not an order to an officer of such obvious low rank.
Lieutenant Kruger Schmidt had been the name Spike had taken when he "joined" the German army. He had decided he would need to at least appear to have a reason to be here. But the rank of Colonel or Major might draw too much attention to himself so a low rank would have to suffice. Besides, simply because his collar didn't say Commander, there were other ways to get what you wanted.
Spike considered the message "Thank you, that will be all." His tone was dismissive and transparently mocked the higher-ranking officer who had been sent to fetch a subordinate as though he were a mere servant sent to fetch a dignitary.
This man was Konigsfeld's second-in-command, at least according to the regulations. In reality the Colonel had nearly completely ignored regulations since his "change" a few weeks before. This had not gone unnoticed by Nielen, and Spike was aware of the man's growing indignation towards the situation. But even though it might cause undesired ripples, the vampire couldn't resist throwing the infrequent stone. Just to enjoy the pleasure of the Captain's embarrassment and displeasure.
"The Colonel requests very urgently. I was told to wait and escort you to his office." Nielen's voice had a bit more fire to it, but when he revealed he was ordered to wait his face turned a little darker shade of red.
"I see." Spike acted as though he were thinking it over. Then with a shrug he took a step forward and closed the door behind him. "Well in that case I guess we had better go." Walking a step ahead of the Captain he couldn't help but smirk. Luckily Nielen couldn't see the reaction.
There was a time when the Captain would have attempted to utilize his rank to push down the arrogance Spike showed, but several tongue-lashings by the commanding officer had quickly put a stop to that. Wordlessly they made their way through the vast corridors and hallways, their footsteps echoing off the white marble flooring. Though it was only the afternoon, the château was very dark, lit only by candles, gas lamps and torches. At first the other officers and soldiers had questioned the need for heavy drapes over all the windows. But an explanation about secrecy of their operations quickly quieted any curiosity. The hallways were lined with more furniture, tapestries and ornate suits of Armor.
They came to the door of the study, which had been claimed by the Colonel as his office. Nielen turned and stood back as Spike cracked his neck and reached for the door handle. The Captain made no move to follow him into the room. Spike pushed the door open and entered into a room that was nearly dark if not for one covered lamp setting on the desk. It was turned down low so that it only illuminated Konigsfeld and his desk top with a sinister, almost satanic glow.
Spike raised an eyebrow and pushed the door closed. Stepping forward he began to speak with an annoyed tone. "You had better well have a bloody Hell good reason for waking." Before he could finish Konigsfeld broke in, his voice sharp and commanding. "Lieutenant Schmidt. You will come to attention."
"What?" Spike was incredulous that his childe would speak to him in such a way. "You've got to be .." But then he noticed it. He wasn't sure how it had eluded him at first, but there it was . a heartbeat in the room. Turning his head he could smell something .. someone. Someone new. Someone he didn't know. Spike still stood there at ease. He had never bothered to button his coat all the way as he rarely cared much for the spit and polish that was supposed to go with the job. From beside one of the bookshelves in the room stepped the object of Spike's discovery. The man looked to be about 50 years old, 5'8" and well over 200 pounds. Although his uniform was tailored, it appeared ill fitted and stretched around the girth of the man's belly. In one hand was a riding crop; the other hand toyed with its leather strap as if it were fascinating to him.
Spike's eyes fluttered open in response to movement beside him. Immediately his body tensed, preparing for an unknown attacker. It took only a second for him to realize that it was only Dru, shifting in her sleep. He allowed his body to slip back to its relaxed state as he gazed above him at the dark blue canopy covering the finely ornamented four-poster bed he and Dru shared. Covering them were satin sheets softer than a baby's soft neck, and the mattress was gloriously comfortable. Looking around the bedchamber, he took in the elegance and refinement of all the furnishings. The marble fireplace, the antique furniture, the masterfully painted portraits framed in intricately handcrafted woodwork trimmed in gold and silver, all these things bespoke the lavishness of the room Spike now used as his own.
Spike smiled to himself. Everything was falling into place just the way he had planned. Through a bit of extreme good luck and some of his own "devious" charm he had secured himself and his life mate the perfect ringside seat. A seat for what he was sure would be a wonderfully violent and supremely terrifying collision of the ideals and policies of a power- hungry, self-important collection of thugs and hotheads calling themselves a government; and the reality of what these excessive ideals and policies meant in terms of physical force. And not only was Spike going to be a witness and beneficiary of the chaos and bloodshed, but he had put himself in a position to actually participate in this gleefully torturous affair. Only a few weeks had passed since the night on the train when Spike had introduced himself so graciously to the German SS, but in that time Spike had used his influence and newly created connections to find his place in the vast German Wermacht. To Spike's pleasure he learned that the Colonel he had turned, the one with the fondness for young girls, was not only extremely obedient, but that he was not without connections and value. Colonel Konigsfeld had been enroute to Paris to attend to some SS business and then to move out to Tendrecoeur to take over operations there.
Tendrecoeur itself was just a small village some 30 clicks from Paris, but about a mile outside of town was a château or large manor, which was now being used by the Gestapo as a central base for this region. The Manor house had belonged to Jean Luc Tendrecoeur, a wealthy industrialist who had spoken out against the German occupation from the start. Since his family had long held power in this region of France he believed he would be out of reach of the Nazi strong-arms. He couldn't have been more wrong. One night he mysteriously disappeared from the face of the earth and everything he owned immediately became property of the Third Reich. This particular estate proved to be a prime headquarters with its luxurious surroundings and favorable location. Tendrecoeur, the village, was a considerable industrial hub - surprising for such a small town. This meant excellent railroad access as well as manufacturing facilities that could easily be converted to wartime production and plenty of warehouse space. Outwardly, the Germans seemed interested merely in the production value of this town. However, unknown to the French people, very sinister plans were in the works. The Gestapo was indeed interested in the railroad access and the warehouses, but not for the number of vehicles or ammunition produced or transported. The cargo with which they were concerned was a bit more.. human.
He had wandered off into his thoughts but was brought back to reality by the soft touch of cool lips on his shoulder. Turning to look at his brunette lover as she worked gentle kisses down his collarbone and across his pale, defined chest. She stopped momentarily at his nipples. Using her teeth, she tugged playfully with one, then the other, before moving on. When she reached his stomach, she changed direction and progressed back up to his exposed throat. Stopping only when she reached his lips. During her progression, she had moved so that she was straddling his midsection, the sheet pulled up to the middle of her back. With each hand sheboth hands, Dru pinned his arms to the bed and attacked his mouth with hers. Their naked bodies pressed together beneath the sheets. Biting, licking and pulling at his lips with a viciousness born of hunger as much as passion, she moved by touch, her eyes closed. Spike returned her ferocity but his eyes remained open, watching her, tasting and feeling everything. Her motions were drawing him in. It was as if she were a cobra dancing to the charmer's song. Every action deliberate, yet smooth and seductive, as she moved over his body. Her lips and touch smothered him and released him at the same time.
Then suddenly she stopped. She straightened up, flinging her head back. Her hands at her temples. Eyes still closed, she began to hum softly; the hum turned to a moan. Spike knew what this meant and he couldn't help but be disappointed. Her head began to swing back and forth as she rolled away from him. He sat up, setting his bare feet on the cold hardwood floor.
"What do you see, pet?" He wasn't quite able to keep the frustration from his voice.
Dru now lay on her back with the sheet pulled up to her chin and wrapped around her. Her eyes were staring off into nothing. In a dreamy voice as if she wasn't aware of Spike but simply speaking to the room. "The big bad dog. He's come to bark at Spikey's toy soldier." Her brow furled up. "Oooo, he's gonna be mean to my boy. I'm not liking him. Make him go away Spike?" pouted Dru. With this last plea she reached up to his face and caressed his cheek.
"Of course I will, luv." Spike was reaching down to grab his pants.
"He wants to put a leash on your pet colonel. Woof woof." Dru began to fade as she spoke. Snuggling into the pillow, she curled her knees up into her chest and drifted off to sleep.
Spike stood above her dressed in black breeches and a white long sleeved shirt still unbuttoned and untucked. Combing his hand through her hair, he shook his head bemusedly. He was buttoning the cuffs when a loud pounding at the outside door broke him away from his analysis of Dru's vision. With an annoyed glare he pulled a uniform coat over his shoulders. Taking his time, he bent to step into a pair of military boots. Running his hand over the toe he noticed they were in dire need of a good polish. Giving an apathetic shrug he turned once again to the pounding at the door. Passing through the antechamber, he stopped before the enormous oak door. He placed his hand on the gilded knob and paused, intentionally forcing the person on the other side to wait that much longer. It was apparent from the increasing force of the raps that the person was becoming agitated.
Finally when it sounded as though the visitor was going to put their fist through the solid oak, Spike abruptly pulled the door open. Before him, stood an irritated, red-faced Captain Nielen.
"The colonel has requested your presence, Lieutenant Schmidt." Nielen spit the words out with obvious animosity, emphasizing the fact that it was a request and not an order to an officer of such obvious low rank.
Lieutenant Kruger Schmidt had been the name Spike had taken when he "joined" the German army. He had decided he would need to at least appear to have a reason to be here. But the rank of Colonel or Major might draw too much attention to himself so a low rank would have to suffice. Besides, simply because his collar didn't say Commander, there were other ways to get what you wanted.
Spike considered the message "Thank you, that will be all." His tone was dismissive and transparently mocked the higher-ranking officer who had been sent to fetch a subordinate as though he were a mere servant sent to fetch a dignitary.
This man was Konigsfeld's second-in-command, at least according to the regulations. In reality the Colonel had nearly completely ignored regulations since his "change" a few weeks before. This had not gone unnoticed by Nielen, and Spike was aware of the man's growing indignation towards the situation. But even though it might cause undesired ripples, the vampire couldn't resist throwing the infrequent stone. Just to enjoy the pleasure of the Captain's embarrassment and displeasure.
"The Colonel requests very urgently. I was told to wait and escort you to his office." Nielen's voice had a bit more fire to it, but when he revealed he was ordered to wait his face turned a little darker shade of red.
"I see." Spike acted as though he were thinking it over. Then with a shrug he took a step forward and closed the door behind him. "Well in that case I guess we had better go." Walking a step ahead of the Captain he couldn't help but smirk. Luckily Nielen couldn't see the reaction.
There was a time when the Captain would have attempted to utilize his rank to push down the arrogance Spike showed, but several tongue-lashings by the commanding officer had quickly put a stop to that. Wordlessly they made their way through the vast corridors and hallways, their footsteps echoing off the white marble flooring. Though it was only the afternoon, the château was very dark, lit only by candles, gas lamps and torches. At first the other officers and soldiers had questioned the need for heavy drapes over all the windows. But an explanation about secrecy of their operations quickly quieted any curiosity. The hallways were lined with more furniture, tapestries and ornate suits of Armor.
They came to the door of the study, which had been claimed by the Colonel as his office. Nielen turned and stood back as Spike cracked his neck and reached for the door handle. The Captain made no move to follow him into the room. Spike pushed the door open and entered into a room that was nearly dark if not for one covered lamp setting on the desk. It was turned down low so that it only illuminated Konigsfeld and his desk top with a sinister, almost satanic glow.
Spike raised an eyebrow and pushed the door closed. Stepping forward he began to speak with an annoyed tone. "You had better well have a bloody Hell good reason for waking." Before he could finish Konigsfeld broke in, his voice sharp and commanding. "Lieutenant Schmidt. You will come to attention."
"What?" Spike was incredulous that his childe would speak to him in such a way. "You've got to be .." But then he noticed it. He wasn't sure how it had eluded him at first, but there it was . a heartbeat in the room. Turning his head he could smell something .. someone. Someone new. Someone he didn't know. Spike still stood there at ease. He had never bothered to button his coat all the way as he rarely cared much for the spit and polish that was supposed to go with the job. From beside one of the bookshelves in the room stepped the object of Spike's discovery. The man looked to be about 50 years old, 5'8" and well over 200 pounds. Although his uniform was tailored, it appeared ill fitted and stretched around the girth of the man's belly. In one hand was a riding crop; the other hand toyed with its leather strap as if it were fascinating to him.