The manip was created for me, by the awsomely talented califi ta much, babes!

String of Pearls

by
Kyrieane

Sitting under the calming shade of a black oak tree, constant companions silently chittering by his side. Ankles crossed cravat loose. Soaking up the warm fall air. William contemplates the coming festivities. Tonight he will see his fair Cecily. A moment, perchance, to brush against her milk pale flesh. Savor the fleeting glimpses of her startling green eyes. Die and live and die again in the sound of her laughter, to just be in the same room with the beautiful girl.

William strokes the aged leather of the books. Dearest friends eternal confidants. Who better to share the joys and agonies of unrequited love than Shakespeare and Chaucer? Pulling the priceless volume onto his lap, William begins thumbing through the vellum

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die

Perhaps tonight, at this evening’s soiree, he would confess his devotion. Gift her with his heart, before another caught her eye. Before it became too late.

If he only knew

The raven-haired goddess clutches him tightly, chattering about silver fishes dancing with the stars. William watches, detached, as the world around him changes from garish colors to stark black and white.

His limbs are heavy, full. Feeling swollen as a pufferfish he once saw at the Zoo. The image causes William to smile, his dark angel strokes his face in response, sweetly murmuring nonsense rhymes.

Curiously, he focuses on the slowing of his heartbeat. With a voyeuristic fascination, William recognizes he is dying, and like a true romantic, revels in the experience.

Then his body is silent. The invading demon pushes the consciousness to the side, watching his mother gently gather up the inanimate host, and sedately carry him through the crowd. Blackness descends.

"But Daddy, I have my very own poet now!" his mothers’ voice calls to him, pulling him from the healing abyss.

"Now Dru, I dinna see why you had to have a poet. Look at ‘im! So frail, thin. Couldna hae more than a draught in ‘im."

The scent of Family snaps the demon fully to the surface. Opening frighteningly blue eyes, the infant vampire watches his Mother and Grandfather bicker back and forth.

"He’s mine, and you’ll not be taking him from me!" Mother sounds for the world like a petulant child, but the infant can tell she is winning her way.

"If he last a month, I’ll…I’ll host a tea party for you and your pretty dolls." Grandfather turns away, hiding a pleased look.

"Of course Daddy. Come William. Lets go hunting."

In the hushed moments of dawn, when the threat of sunlight shoots warning sparks across his skin, Spike can hear William. Skittering and cursing, crashing around in their brain. The host retaining a grip on its body is what sets Spike away from the rest of the Family. William tells him secrets. Coaches him on the best way to soothe the feminine nature of his motherlovermasterslave, how to keep loverfatherprotectortorturer from killing him. And how to stay away from Bitch. William tells him how to separate the wealthy, thus better fed, marks from the poor. In return, Spike allows William to caress Dru, in their more tender moments. Spike sometimes sees himself sheltering his human twin, letting him enjoy the power and sensuality denied the human in life, yet keeping him hidden from the darker aspects of Vampire life. Wouldn’t do to have an insane counter id trapped, howling deep within his own mind.

William croons to Spike in these moments, soft words of warmskittersparksbatheusingold, trying to give the demon a taste of dancing in the sun. Spike sets out to find Dru, wants to show the human how Vampires court the flames.

"Daddy’s gone." His raven-haired goddess is shattered, Spike is helpless to put her back together.

"Yes, pet. I know." Spike pulls her closer, baring his throat for comfort. Dru accepts. Offers her own in return. Long moments spent lost in the blood bond. Darla flies about the room, screaming like a banshee, cursing the gypsy clan to their last heir.

Spike shudders within Dru’s embrace. Darla’s curses work. He can hear Dru whispering madly, the words wrapping around him like warm water. Drowning and floating, her tiny silver fishes nibbling on his toes.

"You and I now, sweet William. You and I and Mummy." She rocks him gently, comforting them both with her motions. "No nasty golden soul to foul my sweet poet."

Spike thinks of William, tucked away sobbing in a corner.

"No, pet, no nasty golden soul."

"It’s not Daddy!"

Spike gently untangles Dru’s hands from her black tresses.

"It’s something nasty and filthy and foul wearing Daddy’s face like a bloody mask!" she howls her agony, causing the locals to flee the crazy woman, for fear of catching her eye.

"C’mon, Dru. Let’s go see what’s happened." Hauling Dru to her feet, Spike leads his goddess into the tiny house.

Darla and Angelus circle a small table, spitting and wary as two alley cats.

"Eat it!" She hisses at her creation now, determined to either have him back, or drive him away for good this time.

"I canna! Nay, I Wilna eat that infant!" Angelus turns, knocking Dru and Spike to the floor in his rush to get out, get away. Darla screams, tearing chunks of hair out of her head.

"Bastard!"

"Mummy, mummy, mummy." Dru cries out to the stars, mourning her beloved family. "Mummy has gone." She gouges the flesh from her face, crimson blood staining her moonlight skin. Spike captures her hands with his own, pressing them deep into his sides.

"C’mon, luv. Darla is gone, Angelus is gone. Just us now. Let me take care of you." He peppers her raven hair with dry kisses, fighting to keep his place.

"I hurt, William." Dru shatters into crystal fragments, littering the ground with her tears.

"I know pet, I know." He sooths her, stroking her head with fragile hands, murderous hands.

"Take me from here, please William?" she turns liquid eyes to her lover, knowing he can make it better.

"Anything you want, Princess. Anything."

She left when the sun disappeared behind the slate horizon. Dancing out with the same brittle laugh that she danced in upon. Leaving her creation alone for the first time in over a century. He floundered and flailed, searching desperately for starlight and blood trails. Finding instead a band of children, stronger than any House he had seen. A Slayer and a Witch, a Watcher and a Wolf. And the boy, always the boy. Knocked from his top rung of the food chain, to scavenger status, the boy became his refuge. His jailer, his lover.

It starts with a touch. A gentle touch on Xander’s arm to make sure he is ok. The sudden flash and douse of fire in his chocolate eyes shoot right to Spike’s belly. But it makes Spike…curious. He doesn’t touch again, yet. Too soon. Then lays a soft hand on Xander’s strong shoulder. Peers over his shoulder to read a prophecy. Waits to see if Xander pulls away or leans in. Smiles when their bodies shift together.

"Hey Xander?" Spike makes his voice for Xanders ears only. "You on patrol tonight?" Sends cool puffs of air across his slightly rough cheek.

Xander shakes his head. "Nope, research fulfills my Scooby duties for the evening."

A howl of pure agony rends the night air. Spike feels true terror at the sight of the boy sprawled on the cold asphalt. Arms flung out at his sides, copper-rich blood pouring from a gash on his head. One leg crooked at an awkward angle. Buffy ignores Xander, focused on keeping the huge demon from getting close enough to take a chunk out of their hides. Spike stands guard, legs spread, and hands loosely wrapped around the handle of his battle-axe. In that moment, when the decision to protect Xander overrides the instinct to flee, he accepts his future.

Their first kiss is a disaster, noses and teeth and Willow storming into the room. Spike opens his eyes to see dazed lust looking back at him, then the spell hits, and he is thrown across the room. Sliding down the wall, crumpling on the floor, Spike focuses on the least blurry image of the witch. The one in the middle with furious sparks of blue shooting from her eyes and fingertips. Xander’s large body covers his own before Willow can attack.

"I love him Willow! Stop!" Xander trembles, shock and desire warring in his body.

"You love me pet?"

He takes Xander to the movies, to the carnival, to dinner. Brings him little presents that only have meaning to them. Lines of poetry scratched out in elegant scrawl, on torn pieces of bar napkins. Teaches the boy to duck, to hit back, to land without hurting himself when he can’t move quickly enough. Gives Xander all the attention and affection he has missed. Xander gives it all back tenfold. Whispered promises in the dark, sealed with blood and spit and cum. Lost in dreams and the passage of time, together they face the challenges thrown in their path.

Butterfly kisses and heated touches. Rain and wind and thunder provide the backdrop, the perfect setting for the perfect seduction. What began as a means to safety, quickly evolves into more. Better. Love. The desire to keep this precious boy safe overshadows the urge to kill the Slayer. Bathing in his passion becomes better than the visions of bathing in her blood. And he knows he is doomed. Stolen moments become entire nights hidden. Hours become days. Become weeks and months. Vows and blood exchanged, and the boy belongs to him. And he to the boy.

"It’s like a string of pearls, love. She was my mother, my lover. My goddess, my world." Spike looks down, blue eyes full of worry. His lover lay curled in his lap, gently plucking the fine hairs on his thighs.

"I know, it’s just…so many years. And Dru is gorgeous. I just don’t know how I can compete with her memory." Xander’s voice is hesitant, eyes buried under a shock of chestnut hair.

"She may be the pearls, love, but you are the clasp. You keep everything together." Spike cards his fingers through the luxurious curls. "I didn’t have a choice with Dru. She took me, kept me. I have a choice with you. Do you see the difference?"

"I think so. You love me because you want to?" Xander snuggles closer, silently urging Spike to touch him more.

"Yeah, pet. Love you. My choice to love you. Don’t mean its any less than what I had with Dru, or any more. But it’s better."

"Ok. I get that. Love you too."

"I know, pet. I know."

The End

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