AUTHORS: dru & EvilWillow (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Mile High Club
PAIRING : Spike/Xander, Angelus/Spike, Angelus/Spike/Xander
RATING : NC17 (highly smutty
with plenty of salty goodness!)
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE : dru wrote Spike and Darla, EvilWillow wrote Xander, Angelus (and Spike during the D/S scenes)
=====================================================================
We run
inside the house, and I'm out of breath. I know, I know. Stupid habit. But we
had to run the past two blocks; the sun was starting to come up.
I stop
for a minute and try to get a sense of where Darla is. I do my best to try to
avoid her. I've learned it saves me from a lot of humiliation.
And I
am *so* glad that Spike wants to dust her.
I just
hope Angelus won't dust *him* for it.
Wait. I
care if something happens to Spike? Since when?
Well...
okay, the really good sex might have had something to do with that. And it's
kind of nice not being at each other's throats... figuratively speaking.
Because it was *really* nice being there literally...
Darla's
coming closer, I can feel her. And my good mood is running away and hiding,
like I have the sudden urge to do.
Just
in the nick of time, really.
I
guess that's how I am.
Okay,
we get inside and I slam the door shut because who wants to burn to ashes? I
certainly do *not*.
He
was quiet all the way back, of course he was breathing, so...
I
probably shouldn't have promised him I wouldn't kill him. I mean, if it comes
down to him or me, I pick me.
But
still... if it comes down to him or Darla? There isn't even a choice.
She
may have been a professional whore, but she does nothing for me.
And
speaking of, I look up the stairs as she comes down. I see her glance at him
and then watch at how red her eyes get.
She's
pure evil.
Vamps
aren't well-loved by other demons, but they'd *still* make her a god.
And I
really don't like that look.
Shit,
that look terrifies me.
I
look at Xander and the look on his face... he's trying to hide it, but he's
terrified of her as well. I remember that feeling.
"Xander,"
I lean over his shoulder and whisper, "Xander, go upstairs to my room.
I'll meet you up there."
I jump
a little, forgot he was even there. She's got that 'I'm going to skin you
slowly and then feed you to the rats in the basement' look. At least that's
what *I've* named it.
"Y-yeah."
I leave quickly, keeping a good four feet from Darla as I walk past her. I get
upstairs and to the spare room. The servants cleaned it up already. And I'm
exhausted.
Of
course now it occurs to me that Spike and Darla are probably talking about the
killing me thing. And a part of me wonders if it's smart to be here. Because
what if she convinces him to kill me? I mean, she's a nasty bitch and it's not
like Spike and I are really *that* close. How can a few hours of getting along
compare to the certain evil, horrible things she'll do to him if he *doesn't*
do what she says?
Okay...
so maybe I'll just go to my room, instead. It's a lot safer there. And once I
get there and lock the door behind me, I feel *so* much better. Now, it's time
to get some sleep.
I
watch it go upstairs.
*It*
should be dust.
I
turn to William and sense a little tinge of fear.
Good.
He remembers what I can do to him, if he's uncooperative.
"William,"
I approach him slowly, stalking him, "I'm disappointed. We had a
deal."
I
stand my ground, even though I don't like it when she gets that fucking close
to me. Bitch knows it, too. "You want me to do this, Darla, I do it on
*my* timetable," I say.
I close
the distance between us and run my finger down his jaw line.
"Perhaps
you misunderstood me," I whisper against his lips before biting one.
"When I said I wanted it gone, I meant *now*. Not tomorrow or in a week.
Do you *really* want to test me, William?"
With
no preamble, I reach down and grab his cock, my nails pressing through the
fabric as I squeeze him.
Now I
see why Xander's so terrified of her. Of course, I had my share of run-ins,
too, back in the day. Along with Psycho-Angelus. So I don't even flinch. Even
though I'm screaming bloody murder inside, I guarantee that.
She
frowns and lets me go. And note to self: start carrying a stake again. If you'd
have done that, then this would've been over now. But since you didn't...
"I'll
do it," I say. "Can't blame me for wanting a taste of the thing
you're so afraid of first, though. Can ya?" I dodge her as she tries to
backhand me and make my way toward the stairs. "And I gotta tell you.
You're right to be worried. Hell, *I'd* have turned him if I'd known he could
be taught to be *that* eager to please. " I grin at her.
AAARG!
He
just *infuriates* me!
I get
in front of him and pin him to the wall before he reaches the stairs. I pull my
stake out and watch his face contort as I push it slowly into his helpless
chest. He struggles against my grip, but I've got his wrists in my grasp and
I'm a much stronger demon than he. I've got a thousand years on my side.
"If
I were you, Willy," I say, "I'd be more concerned with what *you're*
afraid of- because if he isn't dead in the next twenty-four hours, I'll peel
your skin from your carcass so slowly, you'll beg for death."
And I
can tell by his eyes, he knows I mean it.
I did
it to him once before.
Again,
she's really not all that frightening. Because, again, she can't hold a candle
to Angelus' evil-er twin. "Whatever, Darla. Am I arguing with you? Didn't
think so. Now if you don't mind, it's been a very.... *very* tiring night. Can
I go now?"
"Twenty-four
hours, William, or else I'll show you what they do for fun in Hell."
I
smirk at him, holding his wrists tight. The stake is about an inch into his
skin, almost to his heart, but not quite. He may be trying to fake not being
afraid, but I know better. I bite his lower lip, hard, before dragging the
stake down his chest and stomach, still embedded.
It
leaves a welt half an inch deep, oozing with blood.
I let
his wrists go and step away, "Twenty-four. I'm not very patient."
No.
Really? Never guessed. "And good day to you too," I sneer as I walk
away. And why Angelus hasn't ever noticed what a bitch she is, I'll never...
Hey. Now *there's* a thought.
Not
fully formulated yet, but twenty-four hours should give me more than enough
time to work out the kinks. Not to mention find some of Harris' kinks, too.
All
work and no play make Spike a very dull boy. And we wouldn't want that, now,
would we?
"I'm
beginning to hate that boy."
He
will *not* win this. This is one game, I learned well. From the Master.
Only
this time, some bitch slayer isn't in the way. Just one of her friends!
But
not for long. Soon, William and this new *toy* will be gone.
"ANGELUS!"
I scream as I head toward my room. "ON THE BED, NOW!"
Eewww. Now
I have to listen to her screaming and moaning and .... ack.
I was
asleep, too. Well... almost. I couldn't hear her and Spike talking, not that I
was trying to hear. No. Not me. I'm totally secure and unworried.
That's
why I've got my bedroom door locked.
I
wonder if he'll try to get me to open it? Not that I would. No way. Totally
over that little insanity from earlier. Even though it was really *fun*
insanity.
I
stagger into my room, well, the empty room that Darla saw fit to give me. Of
course, when she said it could be mine, it was being used for body disposal.
Pretty disgusting. It appears as though Angelus had it cleaned while I was-
*servicing* his childe.
Yes...
And
delicious it was. Well, from the sounds of our sire, he'll be busy for the day
while Darla works off her frustration.
She
may have picked up some tricks, but so did I. I've learned a very important
rule that I think Harris should adopt. Never let 'em see you sweat. And I
really hope she didn't.
I
tried to keep her from seeing.. But FUCK! This hurts, and he's not here to lick
my wounds...
There's
nothing in my bathroom so- only one thing to do. I walk down the hall. His door
is locked.
Damn
it!
I
knock. "Luv? It's just me, can I come in?"
No.
But he called
me 'luv'... Damn it, why did he have to go and do *that*?! I know, it's just
one of his expressions, like 'bloody hell'.
As in
bloody hell, why am I standing at the door, ready to open it? Maybe if I just
pretend to be asleep? Yes, because 'ignore him and he'll go away worked so well
with our *sire.* Fuck.
"Xander?
Are you in there? Is everything okay?"
Okay,
now I feel bad being mean to Spike. I really, really should look into getting
some therapy. Hm... wonder if there are any vampire therapists out there? But
then again, what's abnormal for a demon?
Ouch.
And Note to self, don't bang head on door when you're trying to pretend you're
asleep in bed. "Um, yes and... yes?" I reply. My hand is on the
doorknob. Not that I'm going to unlock it or anything. Just because.... I smell
blood--
I smell
blood!
I yank
the door open. "Shit, what happened to you?!" I demand, as I pull him
inside and shut the door behind him. So much for the self-preservation
instinct. Not that it ever worked all that well in the first place.
"I
don't think she's all too keen on the plan," I comment as I rip my shirt
off. Not like it's any good now.
I
glance down. Shit. That's a lot of blood.
Kinda
pretty-
Hurts
like a son of a bitch.
"Got
any vodka?"
I open the
door again and yell, "MATTHEW!" I kind of like being able to have
servants at my beck and call. It's fun. And there's Matthew. "Get me a
bottle of vodka from downstairs," I tell him. He runs off - I also like
being able to make people run - and I return to Spike.
"Sit,"
I order, not giving him much choice as I push him down on the bed. I go to the
bathroom to find the first aid kit.
"Not
that this whole Master Xander thing isn't a total turn on, but-" He sits
down next to me, and I add, "It'll be fine. Just need a washcloth- unless
you'd like to," I place my hand on his thigh, "Like to lick me
clean."
Okay,
suddenly not all that tired anymore. Very hard and - "Guh?" - add
incoherent to that, too.
Saved
by the servant! I grab the bottle from Matthew's hand. I snarl at him - the
universal language for "Go AWAY!" - and he obliges. He's kind enough
to shut the door behind him, but I don't necessarily want a return of Darla. So
I get up and lock it again.
"OH!
OH! YES! GODS! FASTER! HARDER! YES! YES!" AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHH! I put
my hands over my ears but it doesn't help. That *woman* has a voice like nails
on a chalkboard.
I
take a swig of the alcohol and laugh as he covers his ears.
"She's
almost done, Luv."
I
smile at him and add, "What it really is, is a contest. Who can scream the
loudest?"
He
smiles a bit and I look down to my chest, which is still bleeding, slowly, but
still.
"So..."
I touch the entry of the stake and hiss. It really does hurt. Bitch. It went
deep. "So, you gonna clean me or wash me?"
I walk
back over and sit next to him. "Uh..." Okay, Xander. You can do it.
Words. You've been using them most of your life, with a lot of luck. So just
answer the question. "AAAAAAANNGGEEEEEEEELLLUUUUUSS!"
Eew. I shudder,
but I'm so glad they're- "DAAAAAARRRRRLAAAA!" - done.
"If
I remember right, she'll be out for a while now. She really doesn't have much
stamina, usually only lasts ten comes."
I
kick my docs off and look at him. "You weren't in my room, earlier.
Why?"
"Uh..."
Fuck, I was managing better with words last night. I get up and walk into the
bathroom to get him a washcloth. Because I need to think of a good answer to
his question and that *won't* happen if I'm licking all that blood off his
pale, perfect chest--
Damn
it.
I wet
the cloth and return to the bed. I start cleaning him up. Shit. Is that a ...
yes, it's a splinter of wood that I pull out of the wound. "Bitch," I
mutter.
"Who's
a bitch?" I ask. "*I'm* a bitch? And don't ignore the question,
Harris. I *do* know how you work, Pet. I spent time in SunnyD, remember?"
"Wasn't
ignoring it. Deflecting it, maybe. There's a difference." Oh look.
*There's* my brain again.
And
there's his eyebrow. And I wonder how he *would* react if I licked it? Oh GOD,
I'm obsessing over his fucking EYEBROW! Stake me now.
"I
figured she'd do something to change your mind about not killing me," I
admit. "Kind of like this," I gesture at his injury, which looks a
lot better now that it's not seeping blood as much.
"And
I kind of... freaked. So I guess the only thing that's changed about me is I've
turned into a hell of a lot more of a wuss." I sigh and flop back on the
bed, throwing my arm over my eyes.
Another
classic avoidance technique.
Shut the
FUCK up, Giles and how the hell did YOU get into my head???? That's not
supposed to be happen now that I'm evil.
"A
wuss? Wanting to stay aliv-undead? That makes you a wuss?" I ask him,
admiring his nice washboard abs. Yes, I notice these things. Am I a vampire, or
not?
"There
was never anything wuss-like about you, 'cept you never made your move on the
Sl-" Yeah, let's not get into that. "Believe me, Xander, with Darla,
a certain amount of caution is necessary for survival."
"But
you're going to kill her. Or..." I leave the question unspoken. Because I
don't really care anymore. Kill me, kill her. Either way I won't have to be
afraid anymore.
"You
can sleep here if you want." Because I'm so used to sharing a bed with
Angelus, and he *did* kill me, so why worry about a silly thing like whether my
life is in danger *now*?
"I
changed my mind," I shrug as I flop down next to him.
"Oh,"
I say. Not that I'm surprised. If I was as strong as Spike, and had just been threatened
by Darla and told to kill me, I'd kill me too.
And *I*
didn't even understand *that*!
I'm
strangely calm for someone who's contemplating his last moments on earth. I
think about making a run for it. But where? I could scream for help, but would
Darla let Angelus out of her grip *to* help me? Hell, no. So, I could jump out
the window. But I've always had a fear of fire. So I guess I'll just accept it.
I always knew Spike would kill me, some day. Guess I was right about that.
"Yeah,
definitely changed my mind. I'm just tryin' to work out the logistics of
it."
And
fuck, this hurts. I take another swig of the vodka. I can tell the- cut? gouge?
wound?- is starting to heal, but I think *that* will leave a scar. Angelus
won't be too happy about that.
But
he's gonna be a problem, in general.
His
devotion to her is sickening, even after all this time.
"How do *you* suggest we
do it?"
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