Broken Revenge
by
Lit Gal
Part Twenty-Four
"Wonder what I should do with you," Spike asked in a thoughtful voice, and Xander opened his mouth to make a suggestion. A firm hand came down on his ass so hard that he gasped and fell forward onto the bed, catching himself so that he was on all fours, his ass burning with the heat of the strike.
"Didn't give ya permission to talk yet, pet," Spike pointed out in a cheerful voice, and Xander straightened up, tucking his hands in at the small of his back and ducking his head submissively as he realized that he had fallen for one of the simplest tricks. Spike's words hadn't been phrased as a question, not that Spike had ever enforced that rule before. A cool hand ran down his back, a short fingernail scratching lightly over his shoulder blade before sliding down. Looking down, Xander watched as the slender hand came around and cupped his heavy balls, delicate fingers wrapping around Xander's hard erection.
Xander shivered in lust as Spike squeezed.
"Soddin' inconvenient. Make this disappear, pet," Spike ordered as he opened his hand. Xander opened his mouth to protest before another slap on his ass made him think better of it. Okay, soft. He could do soft. Maybe. Xander pulled up any number of horrifying memories, but with Spike here, they couldn't inspire the terror required to make his cock soften. Of course, Spike going all powerful and mastery wasn't exactly helping with the cock thing either. He didn't think he had ever felt such lust burning through him.
Xander bit his lip in frustration and a growing sense of anxiety as he realized he couldn't control his erection. Despite his best effort, he remained hard. Even the fear of disappointing Spike only took the edge off his gathering orgasm without actually making him soften.
"Need some help there?" Spike asked with another squeeze, and Xander knew that one good stroke and he'd be soft because he'd come all over himself.
"Yes, Master," he answered quietly and respectfully. Just saying the word 'Master' caused a shiver down his backbone. The word was familiar, but the feeling of saying it out of choice transformed it so that it warmed Xander in an unfamiliar way.
"Well you stay, and I mean that—not a muscle moved." Spike let go and disappeared from sight. He could hear Spike go to the small refrigerator where he kept blood. However, Xander held position, listening as the bathroom water ran, and even though he was dying of curiosity, he held position. He'd given the choices to Spike, and breaking a rule would be bad. It would be breaking what he and Spike had together, and he was honest enough with himself to know that he couldn't survive that. Besides, as bad as he wanted to come—and he wanted to come pretty damn bad—he wanted to please Spike even more.
When a bowl of ice water appeared in his vision, Xander barely had time to wonder what Spike was doing before he found his cock and balls dunked into the frigid water. His first instinct was to pull his legs together and cover his genitals and possibly to swear colorfully, but he relied on his training and held position as he gasped for air that he couldn't seem to find. Within seconds, his cock had shrunk to an embarrassingly small size and his balls ached from the cold.
"Ya alright, pet?" Spike asked as he lowered the bowl. Even though Spike didn't say it, Xander could hear the offer to stop in the concerned tone.
"Yes, Master," he answered immediately, trusting that whatever devious idea Spike had in his brain, it would be more than worth it. Sometimes he appreciated having a century-old lover.
"Right, I'll just hurry then." Spike put the bowl on the end table and took the towel that was draped over his arm to towel off Xander's genitals quickly as Xander knelt with this hands behind his back. As soon as the cock was dry, he could feel the stirrings return, but before he could do more than twitch in anticipation, Spike had grabbed his cock and balls and slipped them through the hole into the pouch from the show.
Xander groaned, both because he realized that he would never get hard in this thing and because he remembered what Spike had done to him last time. The feeling of Spike driving into him while his cock was imprisoned had driven him to a whole new level of lust. Really, really nice levels of lust. Nirvana-y levels of lust.
He watched with lowered gaze as Spike locked the leather belt around his hips and then attached the front strap from the pouch to the belt, tightening it to keep the pouch close to the body. When Spike walked away, Xander expected to feel his Master line up behind him and thrust. In fact, he shivered in anticipation of feeling Spike taking him, needing him, pinning him to the bed and ravishing him. Instead a hand slapped him playfully on a hip.
"Hands and knees."
Xander immediately obeyed and a wet finger began playing with the sensitive skin behind his balls. Xander's breaths started coming with little pained moans as his cock fought against the pouch. Spike's finger circled his sensitive entrance, teasing the raised skin around the hole without penetrating until Xander's cock sent jagged bolts of desire and need through his body.
"Hurt?" Spike asked. Xander remained silent since he couldn't quite figure out how to answer that. Yes and no. He could feel the strain in every part of his body: every muscle, every ligament, every cell. But while he might call the hot trails running through his body pain at another time, right now they were something else, not pain but not not pain. Yeah, brain cells were abandoning him.
"Do ya want it to stop?" Spike amended himself.
"No, Master," he immediately answered that one. From the laugh Spike gave, Xander suspected that the vamp understood. A finger slipped inside, quickly followed by a second, and that stretching-straining sensation added to the symphony that was quickly overwhelming Xander. He could feel his arms tremble with the strain while his vision blurred until even the horrible pattern on Angel's bedspread disappeared in a blue-green haze. Spike wasn't doing any more than usual, but Xander could feel every touch like fire. When Spike added a third finger, he suspected the noise he made could be called a whine.
Then Spike stopped, his fingers buried and motionless.
"Whose are you, pet?"
"Yours, Master," Xander answered truthfully.
"And that's because you chose it, innit?"
"Yes, Master."
"Mine to play with and love and torture," Spike said quietly, and the torture might have worried Xander except that Spike chose that moment to press in and press into his prostate hard enough to send white flares through Xander's vision.
"Yes, Master," he practically yelped. A hand came down on his ass and the sound seemed to echo in Xander's hearing as his body jerking in an impotent imitation of an orgasm.
"Don't remember askin' you a question. Seems like someone's not payin' attention," Spike accused him in an amused voice, and Xander could only pant as the fingers retreated, leaving Xander's hole feeling cold and slack. Xander knew the noise he made then could qualify as a whine. Knew and really didn't care.
"Kneel up, pet," Spike ordered, and Xander obeyed. Then leather came across the front of his face, a thin strap across his forehead and another across his chin before a curved piece of rubber slipped into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue before the straps tightened, forcing him to bite down on the intruder. Because of the curve of the mouth piece, Xander couldn't spit it out without opening his mouth, and with the harness holding his jaws closed, he was very effectively gagged.
Xander had never liked gags before, but now the very fact that he couldn't say anything, he couldn't protest, he couldn't make Angel's slightly ugly hotel fall down from his screams of lust... well he was discovering he didn't mind gags at all. Spike stood behind him and now embraced him from behind, running hands over Xander's bare stomach before sliding up to pinch Xander's nipples. Xander groaned, the sound now muffled. Everywhere that Spike touched, he could feel the sensation of flesh against flesh long after Spike's hands had moved on. It was as if Spike was leaving a trail of touches that made his whole body come to life one cell at a time.
"Go on, then, let go. Can't get loud even if ya wanted," Spike whispered, his breath stirring the curls around Xander's ear, and letting go seemed like a good idea. Xander let his head fall back to Spike's shoulder, the front of his neck arched out as he grunted and moaned into the gag. When Spike gave a particularly strong pull on his left nipple, Xander yelled, the noise turned into a moan by the gag. Spike then soothed the abused skin, rubbing the nipple with a thumb until it grew warm, and Xander babbled a string of nonsense words, the gag saving him from saying them out loud. The whole time, Xander fought his own body, the urge to thrust and thrash nearly overwhelming him when Spike thrust something firm and long deep into his body.
Xander's hands clutched ineffectually at Spike as his Master stood behind him, his fingers sliding over taut stomach muscles as he explored the small bit of skin he could reach while keeping his hands behind him. One finger brushed by a coarse curl and Xander wanted to beg for the right to touch his Master's cock. But Spike ignored him as he finished by pulling the leather strap from the back of the pouch up through his legs, tightening it and driving the toy deeper into Xander's body before locking it to the belt in back.
Then Spike's hands closed around Xander's wrists. Xander squirmed a little as Spike closed leather cuffs around first his right and then his left wrist. Then the vampire locked the right wrist to a ring on the belt over his right hip, locking Xander's wrist to his side. The left quickly followed.
"On your back." Spike's hands half guided and half lifted him until he had turned so that he was lying in the middle of the bed on his back. Lying on his back, the object in his ass felt twice as large, and Xander knew he would have already come all over himself if Spike hadn't put the pouch on him. Ironically, he felt both an urge to open his legs and release the pressure and to press them tightly together and thrust, but Spike had pushed his legs together when turning him, so Xander lay with his legs together nearly dying of frustration and his own need to move.
Meanwhile Spike wandered the room, eventually bending over to grab his jeans and pull the belt free from the loops. Xander's eyes opened at the thought of Spike using that on his front, which really didn't seem like the best idea. Xander took several deep breaths through his nose and reminded himself to trust Spike, not that it was easy when Spike had that devilish expression on his face. But the whole ice water thing had turned out for the best in that Xander was way past normal lust and into Nirvana-land lust so Xander was going to assume that Spike knew what he was doing with the belt.
"Seems like you're at my mercy now, pet," Spike said with a smile as he walked to the end of the bed and started crawling up Xander's body. Pausing for a moment to wrap the belt around Xander's knees and buckle it, Spike continued until he was on all fours over Xander's face. Smiling the whole time, Spike lowered his weight slowly, and Xander felt the helplessness wash through him. Spike's weight anchored him to the bed, a supernatural creature strong enough to snap him in half pinned him helpless and bound. Pulling at his wrists, Xander strained as his body grew tight with desire.
"Can't say I have much mercy, though," Spike said playfully before kissing Xander's closed lips. Xander desperately wanted to return the kiss, to grab Spike's waist and feel the muscles flex under his hand, to open his mouth and feel Spike's tongue take command. Instead he could only lie there as Spike continued kissing him, now adding small thrusts as he rubbed his erection into Xander's thigh. Xander trembled.
"Let go, pet. Want to feel you movin' under me," Spike said, and Xander's eyes snapped open, looking into an amused yellow gaze for permission before beginning to writhe at the feeling of Spike holding him down, kissing him, pinching his nipples, nibbling at his neck. Xander felt light-headed as he strained against the wrist restraints and struggled to open his legs.
"Forgot somethin'," Spike commented in his innocent voice which always meant he was up to something far less than innocent. Xander couldn't even form a coherent thought before the object in his ass started vibrating. The sensation traveled through his prostate and into his trapped cock, which made a Herculean effort to break through the leather pouch.
Xander did more than squirm then, he bucked and writhed as the vibrations varied from lightly tickling to deeply massaging his prostate. However, Spike never moved, pinning him down so that his strongest and most desperate thrusts were little more than twitches beneath Spike's strength. The world seem to narrow down to just him and Spike, everything else fading into nothingness as he felt Spike rubbing his own hardness against Xander's leg. Then a line of kisses along his collarbone turned into teeth driven deeply into his shoulder muscle, and Xander's whole body tightened and trembled. The world vanished into whiteness where he only dimly felt the dampness of Spike's release and the feeling of being held down.
Xander had the sensation of floating even as Spike curled around him, a strong leg lying over his thighs and Spike's head resting on his shoulder. He didn't even realize how chilled he had become until Spike pulled a blanket over them before settling down to trace small designs over Xander's chest. Xander closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.
What felt like a lifetime later, Xander wandered his way back to consciousness, Spike's weight still resting against him, pinning one arm down. Using small movements, he tested his bonds again, pulling at one wrist and fighting the muzzle. Nothing shifted. Xander lay staring at a crack across the plaster of the ceiling alone with his own thoughts until Spike woke up and freed him.
He should probably feel guilty. God knows that Giles would have several different varieties of kittens if he walked in. Hell, the man would probably give birth to demon kittens if he walked in. And Xander was trying to avoid even thinking about Willow who would definitely be pulling out the toad spells. But then again, Xander thought Angel would probably just roll his eyes. And Cordelia? Xander suspected that she probably had her own collection of naughty toys. Back in the day, Cordelia had been known to do things like grab him by the cock, pulling him along with those fingernails dangerously close to parts of his body that he preferred unpunctured.
But what had Spike said about some people being cowards for listening to what other people said? Xander hadn't ever seen himself like that since he had done the whole "kick his ass" thing and the bomb in the basement even after getting called the Zeppo thing and the telling Buffy off for walking out on them thing. He'd even dated Anya after the Scoobies had burned through telephone wires pointing out that Hello?!?! Demon?!?! He still remembered the wide-eyed look of shock on Willow's face when he'd shown up with Anya on his arm.
So he wasn't all cowardly in listening to other people about other things, so maybe he shouldn't care about Giles and his potential demon kitten offspring.
"Oi, you're thinkin' awful loud, pet," a tired voice complained, but Xander couldn't exactly answer. He watched as Spike pushed himself up and blinked owlishly while looking around the room.
"Bloody hell, almost sunset. If we hurry, we can get out of here before Peaches goes on any more guilt trips." Xander could only blink up since he wasn't going to be hurrying anywhere anytime soon. At least not unless Spike planned on untying him. Spike must have realized that because he reached down and worked the muzzle buckle, pulling the leather strap loose before pulling the whole harness off so that Xander could finally open his mouth. Xander pushed the mouth piece out onto the mattress away from Spike.
"You alright, pet?" Spike asked.
"Yes, Master," Xander answered, and then he paused, trying to find more words but unsure about both what he wanted to say and whether he had permission to say it.
"Ya look a little unsure 'bout that," Spike commented as he started unbuckling a wrist restraint.
"Master," Xander paused again. "I don't know the rules." Xander said the words quietly.
Immediately Spike stopped moving and looked into Xander's confused eyes. "Bloody hell, some days I really do bollocks things up."
"No, Master," Xander objected.
"I soddin' well do. I went into Lirowaus with no plan other than to impress the bastard. I bloody threatened Angel if he came looking for us at that latest show before the deadline I gave him. I've scared ya into flashbacks at least as often as Willow. And no matter how much I bollocks it all up, you still look at me with this expression of trust that makes me love ya even more." Spike reached up and brushed curls off Xander's forehead before cupping the back of his head and pulling him forward for a kiss.
Xander opened his lips so that their tongues could meet. Spike's kisses were normally demanding, but this time his lips moved slowly and his tongue explored gently. When Spike pulled back, Xander was left blinking in shock and desire.
"Do you really?" Xander asked.
"Really what?"
"Love me?" Xander whispered feeling like a 15 year old girl needing reassurance, but they he'd violated the manly code so often that one more violation shouldn't be such a big deal.
"Yeah, mate, I do. Which is why the rules here aren't all 'bout me. Ya get veto power over anythin' you can't live with, and you have a right to set rules too." Spike promised as he unfastened the belt from around Xander's knees and then started work on releasing the pouch.
"And if I'm okay with doing what you want?" Xander asked.
"Even better. Lets me be as evil as I want. Just don't think that you lose your right ta veto later if ya want." Spike worked on releasing the second wrist, and Xander reached up and cupped Spike's face in his two hands, and the unfamiliar feel of Spike's face made him realize that he had never touched Spike's face. He moved his hand up so that he could run a thumb across one eyebrow, feeling the smooth hairs interrupted by the sharp edge of the scar.
"I kinda like you evil," Xander confessed as he really examined Spike's face. Xander suddenly had the breath stolen from him as Spike pulled him into a passionate kiss, the vampire's strength crushing him to Spike's chest.
Part Twenty-Five
"We're outta here," Spike announced happily as he thudded down the hotel stairs, a duffle with of clothes thrown over his shoulder. Xander felt a brief flicker of guilt that he hadn't folded and packed the bag, but they didn't have time for repacking. However, considering how Spike had stuffed the clothes inside, next time he would just tell Spike to let him handle the clothes, and god he was turning into Cordelia. Given the choice between round two in bed or packing, the man-code demanded that Xander pick sex. And the fact that he left a wet spot large enough for two men in the middle of Angel's bed, where Angel was going to have to smell it and clean it… well, that was just a bonus.
"I know you're not taking Xander before I have a chance to take him shopping."
"Just savin' the boy from a fate worse than death."
"If that were the case, you'd have to save him from yourself," Cordelia shot back. Xander followed Spike down the stairs, hiding a smile as the two exchanged killer glares.
"Oi, never dumped him on Valentine's day, now did I?" Spike asked.
"Well, I never gave him a concussion."
"Yeah, but I made up by actually puttin' out some, unlike some ice queens."
"Someone who wears as much eye make-up as you shouldn't bring queens into the conversation," Cordelia answered with a smile of triumph as she straightened up a stack of papers on the hotel counter. When Xander got to the bottom of the stairs, he leaned against the rail, his hands resting on the hilts of his beloved Sol and Luna knives, but this was one fight Spike was going to have to fight without him because he had long ago learned the futility of going up against Cordelia 'Queen C' Chase.
"If you didn't belong to Peaches…" Spike started, but a deeper voice interrupted him.
"Don't even think about finishing that threat," Angel ordered as he came out of the back office, "and I thought you were leaving."
"Now that you're here, we definitely are." Spike headed for the lobby doors, and Xander followed behind.
"Xander?" Angel's voice stopped him, and Xander turned to look at the vampire who suddenly seemed less broody and pushy than he did just slightly confused. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Deadboy, I'm fine," Xander answered.
"You know, you don't have to be a stranger just because your significant other is a pain in the ass," Cordelia offered.
"I know. We'll make a trip up so you can drag me to the mall and maybe even do a bit of shopping for baby clothes," Xander said as a peace offering.
"Baby clothes? Oh, you can never start too early if you want little ones to get a good fashion sense, and any little boy or girl with Xander Harris' genes is going to need a little Cordelia Chase intervention to prevent a future tragedy," she answered with a smile that completely cancelled the bitchiness in her words.
"Deal," Xander smiled back.
"Oh bloody hell, not letting her turn any boy or girl of ours into some soddin' cheerleader," Spike complained as he slammed the doors to the hotel open, but Xander could also hear the resignation to adding one more human to his strange little family. However, Xander didn't feel like aggravating the vampire any more than absolutely necessary, so he gave Cordy and Angel a small nod and hurried after his Master.
When they left the hotel, Xander hadn't noticed which direction Spike had turned their car, so when the buildings began to thin and the highway signs started giving distances for Santa Ana and San Diego, Xander cocked his head in confusion.
"Spike, aren't we going the wrong way?" he asked as they passed a sign announcing they were on Interstate 5 South
"Nope." Spike reached over and flipped off the radio, so Xander took that as an invitation to more talk.
"So, are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"Sure thing, pet."
Xander waited in the silence of the car and watched as the corner of Spike's mouth twitched in amusement. "Well?" Xander finally demanded.
"Well wot?"
"Well, where are we going?" Xander's exasperation came out in his tone, and he bit his tongue as he realized what he had done. Spike, however, didn't seem upset as he laughed outright.
"See, ya only had to ask the right question."
"Wait a minute." Xander looked at his Master suspiciously. "You're giving me shit?"
"Yeah, why?" Spike looked over at him for far longer than Xander was comfortable considering they were traveling at about 80 miles an hour.
"I don't know. It just… it's been a long time since someone gave me shit," Xander admitted with a shrug as he realized how many times he had annoyed Spike with similar answers. "And can I just point out that it was not my fault I took questions literally?"
"Bloody hell, you enjoyed annoyin' the shite out of me some days with your question and answer games."
"Yeah, but I would have been all literal-boy even if I hadn't enjoyed watching you fume." Xander smiled shyly. He'd missed this kind of fighting where it wasn't about life and death but just about giving someone crap.
"Brat."
"Your brat," Xander quickly pointed out.
"Bloody right."
"So, where *exactly* are we going?"
"Got business to take care of just south of here. Can't let Leshar keep tryin' ta get back at us, 'specially not with the sprog on the way. Won't put the others in danger when he comes after us, so that means going after him."
Xander tried to come up with a response, but as fear uncurled in his stomach, he found his mouth drying out to the point that he couldn't even swallow.
"Pet? You all right?"
"Um, no. But you're right that we can't have him coming after us. If something happened to Joyce—" Xander stopped there because he really didn't want to even think about something happening to Joyce after all the somethings that had already happened to Joyce.
"Yeah. Wouldn't even want the watcher gettin' killed, although it would save a fortune in therapy bills."
"Spike!" Xander looked at the vampire in shock.
"Just tellin' it like it is, pet."
"So we're going to the … house?" Xander paused in the middle, unable to say the word whore even though he had been one. Hypocrite much, he accused himself silently.
"No. Not enough demons are willin' to pay for a night, so his real business was sellin' slaves. Since the attack in Las Vegas, he's had to take a job workin' for someone else. He's still a trainer, but he doesn't own his own place any more." Spike offered as he slowed the car and started heading for an off-ramp.
"And somehow I'm not feeling sorry for him."
"Just one thing, pet. This is a slaver farm, but not like the one Leshar ran."
"More like Dareh?" Xander asked. Somehow that made it harder because he still hadn't quite decided what he thought of Dareh.
"Yeah, or Calsha. Anyway, we aren't goin' in there to play Abraham Lincoln and free the slaves, so don't make any moves towards the slave stalls."
"But I can't just…" Xander could feel the need to do the right thing and the need to obey Master battle in his mind. Spike pulled the car to a stop and reached over for Xander's hand.
"Look at me, pet," Spike ordered, and Xander looked at his Master, desperate for some way to stop pulling himself apart at the seams.
"I'm a demon, pet. That's what you pledged yourself to. I'm not goin' to change, and part of that means I'm right jealous 'bout keepin' what's mine. You're mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep ya happy and alive. That means you can't keep tryin' to save the whole bloody world. You get those slaves out of there, and they'll die of drugs or in a vampire suck house or get shot or they'll just lay down and stop breathin' because they've bloody given up. I know you're a white knight and all, but you can't save everyone, pet. More important, I won't risk losin' you the way I lost Buffy because she tried to fight every bloody fight that came along." Spike took a deep breath, and Xander could see the pain in his face.
"I bloody begged her to bugger off when things started goin' wrong. She called me a soulless coward, and the coward bit stung. Made me right stupid. I should have buggered off and waited, listened until I figured out what was up. If I'd have walked away when I knew we couldn't win…" Spike took a deep breath and looked away out the front of the car where a lamp post illuminated a section of trees. "Maybe I could have gotten Peaches to help. Maybe I could have gotten those Watcher blokes to step in. Maybe I could have done something so that one of the strongest ladies I ever knew didn't die because I bloody drank her dry."
"Spike, that wasn't your…"
"Killin' her wasn't my fault, pet," Spike cut him off. "Tryin' to fight every battle even knowin' that it'd lose me the war, that's my fault. I'm bloody old enough to know better, and that's why I'm tellin' you this now." Spike took a deep breath before turning and making eye contact with Xander again. "I'm Master because I've been around long enough to know trouble, even if I did usually walk right toward it in the past. So, when I tell you it's a battle we aren't goin' to fight, you bloody listen up. I won't lose you like I lost her," Spike let go of Xander's hand and brushed a finger along his jaw. "Trust me that I'm doin' this for your own good," Spike whispered, and Xander could suddenly feel the tension leave him.
"I gave myself to you, Master," he whispered.
"So if I tell you that gettin' involved in trying to shut this place down will bring more evil into the mess than good?" Spike asked. Xander looked into the shadowy face of his master, lit only by the light filtering in through the front window of the car.
"I believe you," Xander said. "And I trust that you're right," Xander finished. Spike nodded once.
"Right then. Got word that Leshar will be prepping a new stable on the other side of those trees. You just stay back. I need to know you're keeping yourself safe."
"I don't need babysitting," Xander protested. "Usually," he added after a second of silence.
Spike only snorted as he opened the car door, the light showing his amused expression. "Yeah, pet, but this revenge is mine." Spike pushed his door closed softly, and Xander hurried out of the car and followed as Spike headed around the stand of trees using a narrow sand path. The high roofline of several buildings stood above the trees, but they were obviously heading for a building on the edge of the compound. As they turned a bend in the path, Xander saw the traditional red wood and the wide doors decorated with X's.
Spike's stride took on that dangerous rolling gait Xander had seen in so many nights of fighting together as they searched the cemeteries for unlucky fledges. Suddenly Spike veered off to one side, and Xander followed without hesitation, not spotting the door until they were feet from it.
Silently Spike slid in the open door, and Xander followed. The cavernous inside of the barn was half transformed, a second story framed in new, yellow wood even though the ceiling hadn't yet been put in place. Bits of straw dotted the wood plank floor and the heavy smell of horses still filled the space. However, Xander didn't see his former trainer, at least not right away.
A heavy thudding noise came from a far stall, and then the low half door swung open as a figure appeared at the far end of the barn. Even with the yellowish and weak light of the single overhead light, Xander recognized the shape that had haunted his nightmares; however, unlike any nightmare, Spike stood between him and the shadowed figure. Xander watched as Spike shrugged his shoulders, his leather coat falling off his shoulders as he stalked forward.
"Vampire." Leshar's body flowed into a defensive posture, one that Xander recognized after his months of training with Spike.
"Think we established that already," Spike answered calmly, and Xander moved closer to the wall as Leshar now stepped forward.
Without another word, Spike struck with one fist, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air. Leshar's head snapped back, his body following as he stumbled backwards across the wooden floor. But if Xander expected Leshar to go down easily, he had obviously underestimated the demon.
Leshar grabbed a support pillar with one hand and used it to brace himself as he brought his leg up and planted it in Spike's stomach when Spike rushed him. While Spike was bent over in pain, Leshar brought an elbow down onto the back of the vampire's head with a nasty crack. Xander stepped forward, anger rising up to overshadow his fear as he watched Spike fall to the ground. Xander pulled his Sol knife, its blade gleaming even in the dim lights from the overhead bulb.
However, before he could do anything, Spike's foot shot out and slammed into Leshar's ankle, and only the demon's grasp on the pillar kept him from falling to the ground as his feet went out from under him leaving him hanging from the wood post. Before the trainer could get his feet back under him, Spike rolled away and bounced back up. Spinning around he slammed Leshar's head into the post with a powerful backhand and then he kept spinning until he landed a solid punch into Leshar's lower back. The demon lost his grip on the post and fell heavily to the ground.
Spike danced forward and brought his boot up before slamming it down toward Leshar's head, but Leshar grabbed it and yanked hard enough to send Spike crashing to the ground.
"Bloody fucking hell," Spike snarled before kicking with his free leg. Leshar's head snapped back once and then twice from the force of the kicks before he could scramble backwards, still holding Spike's boot.
"You're going to be sorry you ever came here, vampire," Leshar growled as he struggled up onto one knee, and then Spike's hands were scrambling for the broomstick just at the edge of his reach. Leshar must have spotted it because he yanked viciously at Spike's leg just as Spike's fingers closed around the impromptu weapon. Swinging it like a baseball bat, Spike caught Leshar across his face, forcing Leshar to let go.
Then the two demons fell at each other, rolling one over the other in a tangled mass of limbs and fangs and growled insults. Xander tightened his fist around his Sol knife and sent up a quick prayer as he watched helplessly. Then Spike came flying out of the tangle, his arms flailing as he slammed into a wall. Xander brought his knife up ready to jump in, but Spike simply grabbed a chain from the wall and swung it in an arc towards Leshar's head.
The heavy links hit low around Leshar's face, and then the trailing end wrapped around Leshar's neck following the force of the swing. Leshar grabbed the chain trying to pull it free of Spike's grip, but Spike held on. Since he couldn't get free one way, Leshar fumbled with the end that had wrapped around his neck, struggling to pull the loops off himself. However, Spike heaved on the chain, using it like a leash to pull Leshar toward him just as he raised his boot and delivered a sharp kick to the demon's knee, sending Leshar to the ground with a heavy grunt.
Leshar reached out blindly with one hand, but Spike danced away, dragging Leshar across the dusty floor.
"Not quite as arrogant without your soddin' minions, are ya?" Spike demanded, but Leshar could only make a wet gurgling sound as he clawed at the chain around his neck. Because Spike had reached his goal, the chain went slack and Leshar managed to pull a loop of chain away from his neck, but then Spike grabbed the short end of chain that dangled down in front and pulled it tight so that once again the links dug into the flesh of Leshar's neck.
"Filthy half-breed," Leshar snarled, but Spike neatly flipped him over wooden horse so that his back was braced on the three inch wood rail and his legs sprawled awkwardly. Spike pulled the two ends of the chain down and around the wooden brace, pulling Leshar's head tight against the beam.
"Pet, got a padlock in one of my coat's pockets. Bring it here, yeah?" Spike's voice was pleasantly casual even as Leshar's hands curled into claws and reached for him with vicious swipes. Xander stood frozen for a moment before he could shake off his shock and back up to where the coat lay forgotten on the floor. A quick search of pockets and Xander came up with the small silver padlock which he took to Spike.
"Bloody wanker. Not nearly as big now that you're the one all helpless, are ya?" Spike demanded as he slipped the lock through two sections of the chain. Leshar didn't answer, but instead flailed his arms in an impotent attempt to reach Spike. His thick fingers flexed, and Xander found himself staring at those muscular and tough hands which had touched him in so many ways: hands that had whipped him and beaten him and brushed the hair out of his face and locked that first collar around his neck.
Xander couldn't control his heart which raced out of control as Spike stepped back away from his prisoner. Now Leshar's eyes rolled so far to the side that Xander could only see a line of color as the demon watched Spike's pacing.
"I have money," he rasped.
"Mate, I have more money than I'll ever bloody use."
"Contacts. You want to take down slavers, and I can give you names. Exporters. People who run portals and recruit houses."
"Can't say I care. I bloody care more about what you did to my boy and the fuckin' shite you pulled at the last auction. And really there's only one thing I'm looking for now."
"I can…" Leshar's words ended in a grunt as Spike landed a fist into his stomach.
"You can die, mate. That's about all you can do." Spike pushed the demon's shirt up, exposing a grey and lightly scaled belly. The wood horse had cross braces, making two "A" shapes under the top beam, and Spike propped his foot on one of the lower braces and pulled a knife out of his boot. "Think you can handle that?"
Spike ran the knife up underneath Leshar's shirt, the sharp sound of ripping fabric filling the air. As the lightly scaled stomach appeared inch by inch, Xander couldn't help staring. He never knew the power of clothing but standing fully dressed as Spike cheerfully stripped his former trainer... Xander could almost feel the power shift in the room.
Shadows floated across Leshar's body as Spike circled, ripping here and slicing there until the demon lay naked, his legs sprawling wide to keep his balance on the narrow sawhorse.
Xander had expected more cursing or demands or bribes, but Leshar had fallen into a sullen silence even while Spike whistled brightly.
"So, see any place ya want ta start?" Spike asked as conversationally as he might discuss the television channel. Actually, he was calmer. Spike got way more emotional over English soccer. Unreasonably emotional. Popcorn throwing emotional. And Xander recognized the signs of babble. Blinking blankly, Xander opened his mouth without saying anything. He was still trying to figure out how to deal with a universe where Leshar was naked and he was dressed. He really didn't have any answers.
"Guess I'll just get started without ya," Spike commented lightly as he twirled his knife and pursed his lips. His cheekbones sharpened, and the harsh overhead lighting turned the lower half of his face into a shadowy mask. Xander could hear the sharp clanking of chain as Leshar's body jerked against the restraints.
Spike now turned his head as he studied Leshar's vulnerable body, and when Spike's gaze focused on Leshar's genitals, Xander felt his own heart beat faster. Spike stood near Leshar's head and let the tip of the knife rest on the exposed chest as he walked the length of that exposed form.
When the knife reached the midpoint between Leshar's chained neck and the puckered navel, Leshar grabbed for it, but Spike danced back with a malicious laugh, holding the knife high. Xander ended up jumping back too, the sudden movement making him start and tighten his grip on his own precious Sol.
"Not so big now, are ya?" Spike taunted, moving in to run the knife from Leshar's knee up the length of the inner thigh, leaving a thin trail of dull red behind.
"Half-breed," Leshar snapped in return, but somehow his voice, which had always been hard-wired to Xander's fear center, had lost the terror-inducing edge.
"If I gave a tinker's damn 'bout your opinion, I might care what ya have to say." Spike pressed the knife into the flesh a little harder so that gravity pulled a trickle of burgundy-grey blood down the curve of Leshar's leg. Xander stared in shock as Leshar kicked his leg, flicking drops of blood around the room.
"Can't have ya makin' a mess, mate." Spike backed up to the wall and pulled a coil of coarse rope off a hook. Xander watched in silence as Spike grabbed Leshar's wildly thrashing leg, hugging it until he could line it up with the leg of the sawhorse and start winding the rope around both at once. Before it even occurred to Xander to offer his help or object or just comment on how he felt like he'd fallen into an alternate reality, Spike had finished. Both Leshar's legs were lashed to the cross braces. The trainer now lay open and exposed.
"Right, time for some fun now." Spike had put his knife on the floor, and now he picked it up as he circled his prey. Leshar was again strangely silent. His arms were still free, but his hands gripped the wooden horse so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
"Boy, you know if he does this, my employer will hunt him down. You'll end up back in a stable labeled a dangerous beast. You know what happens to dangerous beasts," Leshar rolled his eyes to the side so that he focused on Xander, and Xander could feel his legs tremble. He did know what happened to dangerous beasts. Vampires weren't the only demons to use humans in their reproductive cycle; in fact, Xander was about 90% sure that the guys who made the Alien movies knew about demons, and ending up a demon egg carrier wasn't a big career goal of his.
"Go for help, boy. Save yourself," Leshar ordered in that soft tone of voice that made his words sound so reasonable, but Xander didn't even consider them. He had no idea whether Leshar was telling the truth about getting hunted down, but he would take that risk to stand by Spike.
Xander smiled at his former trainer. "I won't ever betray Spike," he said quietly, meaning every word. An expression of frustration flashed across Leshar's face before pain twisted his features and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Stepping back quickly, Xander looked down to find that Spike had worked the edge of the knife under one of the scales on Leshar's ball sac.
The knife twisted farther, pushing the scale up and away from the demon's body until Xander could hear the popping sounds as skin and scale separated. Leshar's back arched up off the sawhorse, and finally a thin thread of sound came from the tortured trainer's mouth.
"That must hurt like a right bitch," Spike offered as he flicked his wrist and the scale ripped free and slid across the wooden floor. Leshar found his voice and began screaming curses in languages that Xander couldn't hope to understand, but Spike simply slid the knife under another scale. In the past, Xander had seen those scales rise in desire, the ball sac bulging out between the spaces warning of Leshar's coming ejaculation, but now Spike had to fight to get the scale up, and Xander could see Leshar's stomach muscles rippling as his body fought the pain.
"Kel'shnak dorta vo woqual ta'alatch," Leshar growled as he flailed his arm in a futile attempt to grab at Spike.
"Don't really think that's goin' to happen, mate," Spike answered as he continued to slowly lift the scale, Leshar's scream rising as the scale rose. A sharp snap like a breaking pencil ended Leshar's scream and now the demon's strained breathing echoed off the wooden walls.
"Bugger! Bloody thing broke. Well, guess I'll just have to be more careful next time," Spike complained, and Xander could see the bloody edge of the broken scale—the base of the scale still protecting the most sensitive skin. Spike slipped the knife in again and started prying more carefully this time, his knife point rocking gently as he worked it under the scale, and the blood starting to run as the knife pierced the ball sac. Leshar's scream blasted Xander's ears as he watched the helpless body twist under Spike's attentions.
"Spike?" Xander stepped forward, carefully avoiding the small network of tributaries fed by Leshar's blood.
"Yeah, pet? You want a run at this?" Spike pulled his knife back and again Leshar's scream of agony turned into the heavy gasps for air.
"Can I?" Xander asked as he raised the golden blade of his own knife.
"Course you can, pet." Spike stepped back and cocked his head in an expression of perfect confusion as Xander stepped up. Leshar's eyes remained closed but Xander rested the cold blade against a shoulder and those flashing yellow eyes opened and looked at him.
"You're still just a slave… the slave I created so your Master could enjoy your loyalty," Leshar snarled weakly.
"No, I'm more than just a slave," Xander replied. "But you're evil, and evil things have to die before they can do more evil." Without giving Spike a chance to protest, Xander drew his knife across Leshar's neck, nearly severing it as he gave his former trainer the cleanest death he could.
"Bloody fuckin' hell, what the fuck you do that for?" Spike swore in one long breath as he jumped to the side to avoid the spray of blood that spewed out of the body in a series of decreasing arcs. Xander looked up at Spike, a part of his mind still babbling in fear at having displeased the Master.
"White knights kill the bad guys, they don't rip their genitals off one piece at a time," Xander said with a shrug as he waited with his knife lowered. He could see Spike's frustration and anger in every line of the vampire's body. "If you're going to punish me for this, could we maybe go somewhere that we're a little less likely to get captured again, because I'm thinking I've reached my lifetime quota for getting captured."
"If I'm… what?" Spike's tight shoulders and stiff back melted into the curves of confusion.
"You aren't going to, you know, get mad about me ruining your fun?"
"Bloody hell, yes I'm mad," Spike instantly snapped, and maybe not all the anger had melted. "But I'm not askin' ya to change for me any more than you're askin' me to change for you."
"So, no punishment?" Xander asked hopefully, giving Spike his best wide-eyed and hopeful expression.
"No. Just not goin' to be happy with ya for a while. I paid his boss a pretty penny for the right to torture him, and now you've gone and bloody killed him."
"So, his boss isn't coming after us. No more revenge? No more big slaver conspiracies?"
"I had a bit more revenge in mind, but someone's gone all noble on me," Spike said as he rolled his eyes and nodded toward the still corpse tied to the sawhorse. "But I'm soddin' well hopin' for no more conspiracies even if I'm not willin' to hold my breath." Spike started walking toward him, and Xander could feel relief loosening all his muscles.
"But, wait," Xander suddenly said as Spike picked up Leshar's torn shirt and then took his Sol knife and started cleaning it. "You don't have to breathe."
"I know that, brat; it's an expression, innit?"
"Bad expression for a vampire," Xander pointed out as he took his now cleaned knife and slid it back into its place at his thigh.
"Not really. Certain person I know can get me breathin' every time he tries," Spike said with one of his naughty grins, one arm slipping around Xander's shoulder and guiding him back out toward the car.
"I can, can't I?"
"After what you did in there… not any time soon, you can't," Spike replied dryly.
"That sounds like a challenge, Master," Xander answered, Leshar and the last year forgotten as he considered that he just might have enough of his mind intact to deal with a child and the child's insane mother and maybe even Giles and Willow.
"Brat," Spike repeated as they reached the car.
"Your brat."
"Always, pet. Goin' to have forever, you and me."
"Promise?" Xander asked softly.
"Yeah, I promise," Spike answered, and even though Xander knew it was a lie because not even Spike could control forever, he knew his vampire would move entire hell dimensions to make it true for as long as possible, and maybe that was enough.
The End
Index
