Spike's POV
It hurts a lot. Worse than last time, even.
And he's not recitin' the poetry, or anything fuzzy like that. He's not tending to my wounds with a warm cloth. He's bloody lecturing me about my behavior and how it's going to change because he's my sire and he says so and that's the way its going to be because he gels his hair and can't shag and he's a big, simpering nonce.
"I want you to get it into your head that this office is not a restaurant," the pillock said, crossing his arms and towering over me like some bloody headmaster at some poncy school. "Cordelia is not and never will be on the menu."
"How 'bout the mick?" That earned me a right harsh slap across the face.
"He's half demon. You wouldn't want him anyway." The words were friendly enough, but the tone! Oh, the tone! He used the "I'm your master, you're my slave; I'm your sire, you're my childe; I'm your god, and you are dirt" tone of voice. Then he glared at me with such intensity that I felt like I could do nothing but lower my eyes and then I realized that I was submitting, which made me want to leap up and stab those bleedin' eyes out of his bloody skull. But I didn't…because I was submitting.
One day, the poof's going to get his…and I'm goin' to be there…dealing it out…I hope.
"You'll live off of animal blood…like me. You're not to leave the office without me. You will no longer trade insults with Cordelia and Doyle, but rather you will show them the proper respect and do everything you can to get into their good graces-"
"Like bloody hell I will!"
That was too much. Paying respects to humans? Did someone completely remove this bloke's knackers or is he really just this bloody pathetic? No…I wasn't going to stick around for this.
I felt his hand grip the back of my neck and all of a sudden, I was being forced to look into that hard gaze. It was disconcerting really…having those brown orbs bore into you like hot…pokers. Ah, hell. I did torture him. And torturing your sire? Big shame shame in the vampire community. If he weren't such a black sheep, this would be a lot worse.
"You. Will."
It was a growl… really deep in the throat; and for a minute I saw his lips curl and I winced because I was expecting a snarl and then maybe a not so playful nip on the neck and perhaps a few more lashes on my back…but it didn't come.
I lowered my gaze again. Best to do as he wished for now. I'd make my escape later.
"Yes, Sire."
He looked so satisfied that I wanted to rip the skin away from his face, but that's kind of hard when you're in so much pain that you can barely move.
The next thing I knew, he was sitting next to me. I was gently laid out on my stomach and…he was licking me? Bloody Hell. Peaches was lapping the blood from my back like a dog would lap water from a dish. This would make me the dish and him the dog and my blood the water and I don't really think I like being a bloody dish so much…but it does feel kind of good.
It's his saliva and like his blood, it has healing properties, so I guess this is his new way of tending to my wounds as opposed to the human way with the warm cloth an' all. Can't say which I'm more comfortable with, but I guess this does kind of mean that he cares and I s'pose that makes me feel all warm and cuddly and…
Bugger this. I'm leaving.
Angel's POV
I walked back up to the office whistling a jaunty tune. I was dead certain that I had made some sort of positive progress concerning my childe- what with the lowering of the eyes and the addressing me as "Sire". Yes, my Will was back on the right path to being…my Will. My pretty, little, trouble-making leech.
"How is he?" Cordelia asked and at my odd look, added, "Pretend I care."
"Docile," I replied. "Pretty soon he'll be sleeping like a kitten."
Docile translates to too tired to talk and too hurt to move. My boy was never truly docile and never could be. He's rash and impulsive and lacks the ability to conceive a flawless plot. Add this with his boisterous hyperactivity and you have something truly deadly: you have Spike. White-haired, angry, heinous Spike. Sick, hateful, bloodthirsty Spike. Spike with the very unorthodox ability to feel unconditional love for other beings.
"Angel, if he tries to…" she motioned towards her neck. "…Again…?"
"If I'm not around to help…do what you have to do."
The mere thought of that pained me, but I knew it was more than likely that he would try to eat her again. My boy usually finishes what he starts.
He really is a little idiot.
"What are you smiling about?" Cordelia broke me from my thoughts. "You never smile." She backed away slightly. "Are you evil?" Then, with a small unladylike snort, she rolled her eyes. "Of course you're not."
"Hey! How do you know I'm not?" Cordelia often makes me feel indignant. It's just that matter-of-fact, to-the-point way she says things…kind of makes me feel like an inept dork.
"Angelus is hotter…you know, in an evil way."
"What!?" She can't be serious.
"Well, he has that sexy little maniacal gleam to his eyes. And he puts on more form-fitting pants…I'm not saying you should do that or anything, but it would make this job a little less boring if there was a nice view."
"WHAT." Oh God, I'm seriously disturbed.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, nevermind. Back to my question…what were you smiling about?"
I shrugged and ungracefully flung myself back into a chair. "It's just nice having him back."
She cocked an eyebrow, her eyes slightly wider. "Were you two like…" Then she made this most unseemly, crude gesture that involved her right index finger going through this loop formed my her left index and thumb and I just really don't want to go into that…
"Well…of course." I sunk deeper into the chair and resisted the urge to hide my face in my hands. "But, you know…vampire stuff. It's not like that anymore. It's not going to be like that."
"Since you have a soul?"
"Right."
She did that dismissive thing with her hand again. You know, when you're around a person long enough, the littlest things start to infuriate you.
"Don't know why not. I'd take advantage of that while I had it."
If I had been drinking something, it would have been all over me at that moment.
"Cordelia!"
"What? Oh, c'mon, Angel. He's a little undead hottie and we all know it."
"He tried to eat you!"
"That just means he likes me."
She's trying to punish me.
"You're trying to punish me."
"Yes, Broodboy. Everyone's trying to punish you. Oh, woe is me…how much more guilt can there be? I'm just trying to understand what your intentions are. What is he? Your little pet vampire?"
"He's not a pet! He has feelings and emotions and-"
"Animals are people, too."
"No they aren't!" Conversations with Cordelia were probably the most exasperating, insufferable things I was doomed to partake in. "I mean…Spike is not an animal and I don't plan on treating him like one. And animals aren't people. People are animals."
"You just said that Spike wasn't an animal."
"He's not. He's a vampire."
"Oh, so all of a sudden, I'm an animal and you're this great thing all on your own?"
"Can we not have this conversation?"
She really looked like she was debating whether to stake me or not. After a moment, she retreated with a sigh. I guess she realized that there would be ramifications to staking the boss…like say, not getting paid.
I heard my precious little hellion padding around downstairs, probably in search of blood. He'd find it in the fridge, I was sure. Drink it all up like a good little boy. Maybe stretch out on the bed and kneed the comforter like a restless little kitten…
Okay, maybe an itsy bitsy part of me thought of him as a pet…
Right. I'm out of here then. Already snatched a spare bag and shoved a couple of the poof's black wifebeaters in there. I couldn't very well be forced to stay somewhere for two days and not go looting when the opportunity presented itself. That would be extremely uncharacteristic and possibly even blasphemous. Speaking of which…blood. That would be important.
I walked over to the fridge with the full intention of robbing the poof of all his blood when it hit me that that was completely idiotic.
Food is humans. Not packaged pig's blood from the bloody butchers. I'd get me some takeout on the way out of this soddin' city…maybe stop by one of those cast parties and get some glamorous chit all dolled up, just filled from head to toe with sweet, warm blood. Yeah…that sounded brilliant.
This grand escape relied on luck. I wasn't exactly up to me full strength and I was walking with a bit of a limp. Not much to worry about, really. I'd just be slow getting through the sewers so the poof would have to restrain himself from coming down to check on me within the half hour.
Silly sire. Thinking he could contain the Big Bad. I'm like a deadly virus, I am. A deadly virus just waiting to be unleashed and start with the killin'.
Right. Enough of that.
Can't wait to get back to Sunnyhell. Gonna maim and torture Slutty the Vampire Slayer and then I think I'll burn the little town to the ground. Not much use to me, after all…and there are better places to be. Just don't like leavin' things unattended.
I inched towards the elevator. Sometimes I wonder why I even have an elevator. The stairs are quicker and much more effective, but its just kind of cool to have an elevator, I guess.
"Going to check on him…again?" Cordelia sounded most exasperated.
"Yeah."
"Well…give him another 'We don't eat Cordy' talk," she told me. "I want you to say it so many times that he actually starts to understand that eating Cordy is wrong."
"I'll try," I promise. Even though Spike will never understand that eating Cordelia is wrong. He's a predator, after all. Eating Cordelia is in his nature. And who could blame him?
…No, I will not start this again.
"You bet you'll try."
So I got onto my cranky, old elevator and went downstairs.
He wasn't on the bed. In fact, he was nowhere.
"Spike?" my voice echoed in the empty apartment. "Will?"
He was gone. Oh god, he was gone.
He's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgone.
Of course he was gone.
Why would he stay?
"My silks and fine array," I murmured, curling up on the bed. The scent of his blood remained heavy on the sheets and I inhaled it as if it were flowers in a field. "My smiles and languished air…" Brooding, ensouled master vampires who frequently lose their childer are prone to hone their neurosis while reciting William Blake. I know this for I am the only one in existence. "By love are driven away. And mournful lean Despair brings me yew to deck my grave: such end true lovers have."
I wasn't going to take this. I hurled myself off the bed and went on a frantic exploration of the sewers, running and calling out his name like a crazed mother.
All to no avail. He was long gone.
He didn't stay. They never stay.
Better give old Rupert a call.