Timeless Destiny

Not during that moment and certainly not for the past two days.

Even as the black void filled her ears, even as she felt a piece of her heart die, even as she turned around, the world spun and spun madly on its axis. The cold burn of Angelus’ hand vividly reminded her of this self-inflicted hell as she raised her dull eyes upwards. Her guts wrenched mightily as she saw Mia and Rachel both nimbly rise from the rumpled bed, their slim hands intertwined. Each movement of their lithe bodies spoke of satiation, erotic promise and fulfilled desires.

Although they were desires that were dulled but never forgotten, not their sort of hungers...

Turning disbelieving eyes back to Angelus she saw his lips curve into a smile of pure, dark, demon joy. Slewing her head around she numbly watched the figures on the damaged screen move about the room. She watched as the two linked creatures passed by the foot of the bed and stopped. In mounting shock Buffy saw them make a slight yet humble bow. Their gray tinted eyes steadily held the camera, the depths within so cavernous Buffy felt as if she were drowning in their endless power.

Soon the two unnatural sirens turned away and disappeared from view. Paul lay there in lazy contentment for several moments, a lax smile on his face, before he rolled over and reached for his clothing. Buffy saw him swing his legs off the bed just as the screen went deathly black.

“I can see how much you liked the show, but you don’t need to see more of him than you already have” Angelus blandly declared while throwing the remote onto the table. It landed with a sharp “clank”. It was the only sound to be heard besides Buffy’s erratic breathing. How he had enjoyed putting her through such misery!

It was all for nothing.

And the world still moved...

Flicking her eyes from the screen to the space before her she felt wretchedly ill. “They stopped” she emotionlessly stated. When will I learn? she silently hissed in sharp tones of self-disgust. Her prior declarations were no longer important in light of this. The gauche young girl slipped away again as the feelings of betrayal took root, spreading their vines about Buffy until she felt lightheaded from the sheer magnitude of Angelus’ deception.

Looking straight ahead Buffy coldly asked “And once again it was just a game for you, wasn’t it?” Her question was a mere formality to the greater statement that both could hear clearly.

“Isn’t it always?” he mockingly retorted.

“And Paul was never in danger, was he you bastard?” Buffy rigidly asked.

Reproachfully he tsked Buffy. “You and that gutter mouth of yours will get in trouble one day soon.” Angelus’ hand tightly squeezed her thigh before giving it a playful slap. “Of course he was danger, my sweet idiot. It could have ended quite differently for young Paul.” Drawing her back against him he teasingly ran his tongue along the rim of her ear before moving down.

“It could have been far, far, more messier...” he paused as his teeth scraped along her collarbone, eliciting a sigh of unwanted emotion from Buffy. “It should have been far bloodier...” Angelus paused to roughly nip her lips before sighing against them “...but for you Buff.”

“Me...” she breathed the word heavily while pulling back from him. The world tilted crazily when she was this close to him, when he kissed her so...

How easy it was for him to manipulate her, especially when she passively played the victim for him. Jumping up she passionately yelled “I hate you! I hate you, I hate your games, I hate the night you came into existence!

Yanking her back into his lap Angelus growled “I don’t want to remind you of the conduct I expect from you Buff. You will not speak to me in that tone again. Girls who do not behave properly will get their bottoms reddened.” Satisfied that Buffy understood perfectly he relaxed his body. Lazily he smirked while saying “He owes his worthless life to you darling---you should be proud Slayer.”

“Pride? I thought that was on your bad-list along with yelling” she tartly replied, infuriated that he treated her as a child and discounted her emotions as a tantrum. He’s a vampire Buffy...what do you expect? Feeling her fire burn out she softly said “If only I hadn’t gone to dinner tonight.”

He darkly chuckled. “Poor little girl, you sound so disheartened, so sad.” Brushing her hair back Angelus quietly stated “Your pride has no place between us. Holding onto it will only make your life more difficult.” Pausing significantly he allowed the words to weigh into her mind before softly saying “Your unfortunate experience tonight only proves it.”

She sharply gasped, a pain shooting in her heart, because of his callous reasoning. Pulling away from him Buffy turned to look him squarely in the face. “I never believed that your cruelty could be this devious. I thought that you were more open, more to the point, but that would be too easy. Right Angelus?”

An enigmatic smile played about his lips. “What do you expect me to say Buff? You know what I am, yet you still accept me. Your tender words of possession prove it.” Bringing his face closer he softly taunted “I love to know that this world’s only hope belongs to me---a vampire.”

She could not control the explosive breath of rage that passed through her lips. It was all true. “Why me? Why drag it out Angelus? You could have ended it weeks ago that night in the cemetery.” Buffy could feel him tense beneath her; a fine line between self-preservation and recklessness separated her.

Recklessness won.

“You could have when I thought you were Angel.” Buffy’s face softened with love for the man who was no longer, her gaze becoming unfocused for several moments. “You could have killed me when I cried out for the man I love, for Angel” she challenged in her soft yet determined voice.

Fire leaped in the shifting and eternal blackness of his eyes, the depths of his dangerous passion exposing itself for a moment before sliding away.

The lazy tone of his voice belied the fury of each word. “I could have. I could have held you tightly while your near-virgin pussy held even tighter onto my fingers. I could have waited until the moment that you opened your eyes and looked at ‘him’. I could have pretended for a minute longer that I was him.”

“I could have slipped on your panties and promised to walk you back to the safety of your mommy. I could have even accepted your nauseating kisses of love and murmured something in return.”

“I could have whispered ‘Buffy’ and held you next to my dead heart. I could have tipped your head back and gently kissed the pulse that flutters here. “ He touched the very same spot much to her discomfort. “I could have laid my lips here.” He tapped it twice for emphasis.

Angelus’ voice hardened before bluntly finishing. “I could have done all this, all of it, before ripping this soft human flesh and exposing the bloody red meat that makes you all no different from one another.” Lightly he scraped his fingers against her pulse.

Seeing the recoiling light in her eyes Angelus hissed “I would have loved it too Buff, did you know that?” Wryly he chuckled before saying “Of course you know, what was I thinking? You know everything about me, don’t you lover?”

Acidly she said “More than I’d like. I only wish it was just from dry journals instead of you.”

Wickedly he grinned, amused by her misplaced show of spirit. “Speaking of dry---when you read about my glorious exploits, did it make you wet babe? C’mon, you can tell me. I bet after being with that pansy, you just couldn’t wait to get with a real man---or demon, I should say.”

Buffy opened her mouth, her intents clearly borne without reasons of self-preservation, before Angelus laid one finger across her lips. Narrowing his eyes slightly he softly warned “Think carefully lover before you answer.”

For a few moments she struggled to contain the words that bubbled to escape her mouth. Finally she said “I thought about you as much as you thought about me---as little as possible.”

“Oh but Buff, I thought about you all the time. I thought about moments like our time in the cemetery every hour of the night.” Tugging her hair he brought her closer to him. Gutturally he confessed “I jacked off to moments like that.”

Buffy felt her cheeks redden at the crudeness of his words. She was regretting this conversation. Regretting this conversation? How odd it all was. Angelus was smoothly telling her that he enjoyed the thought of her death and here she was calmly sitting on his lap, allowing him to play with her hair. That and blushing because he said “jacked off”. It was beyond odd, it was insane.

And the world still moved...

Reconnecting with his earlier thread of conversation Angelus mused spitefully “I could have watched as your body hit the ground. I could have watched as you clutched your throat, hopelessly and helplessly trying to put the pieces of your neck back. I could have bent over you and kissed your lips as you lay with only seconds left. I could have said ‘I lied’ and left you to die in the dirt as you deserve.”

Inside Buffy recoiled, the disgust and sadness of Angelus’ words clearly shining from her eyes. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Their gazes caught and clashed for a moment before he smirked. “I’ve learned much during the past century Slayer.” Leaning forward he caught her chin with one hand, the coolness of his flesh lighting a fire of pained anticipation within her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, as I’m sure you can imagine.” Tightening his fingers, the pressure of his hand in direct contrast to his words, Angelus explained “I’ve learned to play nice baby, that’s all.”

“You still want me dead though” she stated softly, needing to hear the answer but not really wanting to.

His answer was swift and brutal. “Of course I do. I think about it every night, every hour. I laugh when I think about your last moments darling. It’s my own private joke.” Pausing he arrogantly elaborated with “That and the thought that maybe I’ll turn you and keep you as my own fucktoy forever.” Shrugging he added as an afterthought “Or until you get dusted.”

Pain at his arrogance, injustice over what he stole from her, fury from his indifference made Buffy lash out. She lashed out in a way that was most dangerous to herself and to Angelus. The prideful girl bore no resemblance to the teary waif of before.

Casually she slipped from his lap and lazily stretched, a crooked little smile painted across her face. Tossing her hair over her shoulder Buffy cocked her head to the side and mused “You’re so incredibly arrogant lover. It’s enough to make me laugh if you weren’t so pitiful.”

Spitefully smiling at the subtle shock on his face she lightly stated “You die each night Angelus. Every vamp that I send to Hell is you. And when I don’t think about staking you, I pray that we’ll find a way to send you back.”

Placing her hands on her hips she taunted him with “Angelus I won’t deny that I love the way your body makes mine feel.” Buffy’s hand flew to her lips. “Oops! I mean Angel’s.” Watching his face turn to stone she dug the knife deeper. “My body does belong to the one you’re using. It doesn’t matter if I say that I belong to you---I know what I really mean.”

“Lying ill becomes you darling---you’re shitty at it.” Although flippantly stated, Angelus felt a moment of human insecurity, but he did not recognize it as such. Smugly he drawled “This is a dangerous game you’re playing. Are you sure you have the guts to continue?” confident Buffy would back down.

Smirking she shrugged. “Sure, lover. Whatever.”

Buffy easily caused all the demons of jealousy and suspicion to claw away at his smugness. Just when he was sure that he had her beat, she retaliated in the most disconcerting way. What the fuck just happened here? I didn’t see this coming. She was in a bad place and now it’s like she’s a new girl. I do not like it.

Angelus did not know what to do or say next.

This was not good.

Not for him and especially not for Buffy.

Little bitch!

He coldly lashed back in return. “Buff, I can see that broken-down spirit of yours call to me whenever I walk into your view. All I have to do is crook my finger and you’ll be crawling bare-assed across this floor. Care to prove my point again? Afterall, it was just too easy before.”

When Buffy remained silent, her smile fading just a bit, Angelus challenged “C’mon baby, make me prove my point.”

Her resolution was shaken slightly until she remembered how he had manipulated the entire hellish night for his own enjoyment.

Not only did he hurt her but he used an innocent.
She had been forced to bare herself to him.
He only wanted to kill her.

The Slayer part of Buffy knew it for she felt the same, but the other part of her felt such betrayal. It was beyond the comforting air of rationale, it was emotion: raw and searing to the lungs. Her emotions could make no apology for the way she felt, they could only violently react.

“You want me more than you’ve ever wanted Angel. And before you pull out your broken record of love, I talk of lust Slayer. You’ve lusted after me from night one lover.”

Letting out a trill of laughter she mockingly asked “Do you really believe that homicidal maniacs rate high on my list? I think it’s time for some self-evaluation sweetie.”

Angelus repeatedly clenched his jaw, his eyes gleaming hotly in a face as beguiling as sweet Death. Gaining momentum Buffy twisted her weapon of words. “Every time you fuck me I think about Angel. Every time that I say your name, I’m really saying his.”

“Oh really? Well we’ll just have to see about that” Angelus nastily stated. Lithely standing up he grabbed Buffy and tightly imprisoned her within his arms. Quickly striding out of the room he made his way towards the mammoth bed he called his own. Buffy lay motionlessly with her head against his shoulder.

After her rash of words, what else could she do? She couldn’t very well get away---he would derive too much pleasure in pulling her back by her hair. She could physically fight him---but her heart wouldn’t be in it.

Or perhaps her heart would be too into it and that was her problem.

She would just have to wait and find a way to survive it just as she had all night long. Breathing in deeply she heard her heart’s riotous beat roar in her ears.

Breathe Buffy---just breathe.

She concentrated on the long, deep breaths. She had to---it was either that or drown in the sudden fear that her thoughts inspired. So she breathed and felt her heart break with each breath. The cool leather smelled of him, exotic and spicy, filling Buffy with sense of unbalance. Angel’s scent was light, reminding her of the sunshine he had not seen in over two-hundred years.

Angelus’ scent was black and primal, reminding her of every dark fairy tale she had ever read.

Angelus easily lay her on his bed, covering her slight body with his large one. Entwining their fingers together he whispered against her lips “Pride is thy name, Pride is thy armour, Pride is thy pain.” Never wavering from her wide, defiant gaze Angelus dipped his head down and deeply drank of her lips.

His tongue delved within her warm mouth, tasting each of her human emotions and reveling in them all. “Allow me to take thy pain, so commands your lord.”

Something inside Buffy rebelled at this. Softly, if a bit foolishly (especially after the truth of her first confessions to Angelus), she denied him. “Not my lord, never my lord.”

Giving her a pitying smile Angelus admonished her in an even softer voice “You’re a stupid girl for bringing his name into this. You think of him while I’m in you, do you? I’m going to fuck you until you bleed, until you’re raw and torn and then I’m going to fuck you again.”

Angelus roughly brought his mouth down and ground it against Buffy’s soft lips. Panic made it difficult for her to breath as flashes of memory burned hotly against her brain. Snaking her arm from under his she made to deliver a shattering blow to his head when he caught her fist.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg for death, the death that only I can bring. You will beg me until your voice is raw from screaming and your body is so sore that it can barely stand to function.”

Negligently kissing Buffy’s fist Angelus continued. “It will be the worst torture, but do you know why?”

Breathing heavily Buffy arched her back trying to dislodge him. “I can figure it out. It’s a no brainer with you.” Lifting her head off the bed she promised Angelus “I won’t beg.”

“I can see that you’ve got the wrong idea Buff. Don’t worry---I’ll clear it up for you.” Coming in closer he smirked. “You’re going to beg for death Buff, not to escape me, but to join me. You’re going to be torn and swollen only because you won’t want me to stop.”

Violently Buffy shook her head while Angelus nodded his. “Yes you will. You won’t confuse the two of us anymore and I’ll be more than happy to make sure of it babe.” He stared into her hate filled eyes while saying “I’ll do it...” Pausing he kissed her mouth and then finished with “because I love your pain so much.”

Buffy felt a shudder go through her body.

Bringing his lips next to her ear Angelus whispered “But not tonight.”

*******

Buffy woke with a start.

Her hand swung at the alarm, catching it on the second time, abruptly cutting off the loud beeps. Stiffly swinging her legs over the edge she eased out of the bed. Walking to the mirror she looked at herself and remembered.

She remembered how he had forced her body to feel things it didn’t want to feel, had forced her to react with violent unwanted pleasure to his caresses.

And not once did he physically enter her.

And the world still moved...

The world continued to move even as Buffy readied herself for school. It continued its marked path even as Buffy steeled herself to see her friends. It had only been two days but it might as well have been two years.

The world continued to move even if Buffy’s last two days stood still in a state of unnatural time.

It continued to move for others...

Spike indulgently smiled as Druscilla sat cross-legged on the stone floor in front of the fireplace. The hall was practically empty but for them. Her slender fingers nimbly wove a several flower stems together, softly humming an almost-forgotten tune from her childhood.

Watching the fey-like side of her personality come through reminded Spike of a time before the darkness came. It reminded him of seldom given kisses and hugs that were cherished far more than food or shelter. It reminded him of the parting of iron clouds on dreary Londontowne afternoons that allowed a glimmer of sunshine through.

It reminded him of sweetness that had nothing to do with ambition or hunger.

Shaking himself from his reverie Spike banished the ghosts of a time so far away. Seeing Druscilla skip towards him with a woven crown of thorns and flowers brought the memories of sunshine back into perspective. There was a time for life and there was a time for death---he and his love belonged to only half now. That was their life now: thorns and flowers. Pain and sweetness.

Ghosts of a half-life faded away and the present remained. Taking the cold kiss Druscilla bestowed on his lips helped assuage the instinctual disappointment of tonight’s failed attack. While he had hardly expected the Slayer to fall, in fact it was essential that she did not, he still could not help the twinge of frustration.

Druscilla’s lace sleeve brushed against his face as she smoothed away the frown that had formed on his forehead. “No angry thoughts” she admonished sternly.

Spike’s gaze softened with his love for creature before him. “No, no angry thoughts luv.” Smiling in satisfaction Druscilla playfully placed her gift upon his head. Immediately one thorn tore into his smooth forehead, piercing the skin open, and allowed a thin trail of liquid to run down his skin.

Seeing this Druscilla apologetically murmured “Oh I’ve gone and cut your skin! I’m such a clumsy girl.”

To this Spike replied “Nonsense pet. You know I like a bit of the bite.”

Meeting his eyes the blank canvas of her eyes filled with tint and texture as she softly said “No you don’t. You never did.”

Abruptly she broke out into song, the musical cadence of her voice filling in the space that had sprung between them at her observation. Adjusting the crown she stood back, clasped her hands and cooed in reverence “Ooh Spike---you look like Christ did before he was betrayed.” Reaching out a hand she wiped the red liquid with one finger and tasted it.

Waiting for her to finish Spike merely waited silently. The moments of clarity were coming more and more closely now. She had almost sounded sane when she had looked into his vacant soul, exposing what could never be spoken. He was what he was and nothing would change it.

Licking the moisture from her finger she whispered “You’re the closest I’ll ever come to him. To Christ. The gates have been closed to me and I’ll never be able to sing the praises of God...” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her slippered feet. “Daddy doesn’t let me talk of such things but I can in front of you, can’t I?”

Melancholy tugged at him before he shrugged it off. “Of course you can luv, you can speak of anything in front of me.”

Brilliantly she smiled, the sunshine flitting in her wide blue gaze before becoming blank again. Skipping across the room she bent down and retrieved her own crown. Giggling Druscilla placed it on her loosely braided dark hair. Spike shifted in his wheelchair, hearing the creaking of the seat with a frown. He still wasn’t strong enough to drop it yet. It was amazing how his body was supposed to be dead yet he still suffered from a numb bum.

Leaning his head back he relished the thought of burning the bloody contraption. Thanks to the Slayer though he still had several weeks between now and then. Damn Slayer! It had been relatively easy for his men to subtlely recruit three vampires willing to prove themselves to Lord Angelus despite his warning. Too easy. Now they were dusted and Angelus was most likely shagging away with the repellent Slayer. Bleedin’ sod Spike thought with rancor. If anything he should be at least grateful that Buffy had this hold over Angelus and Irish was so predictable, but he just couldn’t quite find it. He thought his sire a ridiculous fool for wanting the Slayer. What was the attraction?

Keeping his gaze steady on Druscilla he appreciated each and every movement of her graceful form. He drank in the simple joy she took in giddily spinning ‘round and ‘round. At least she would be safe from Angelus’ attentions for some time. Clenching his jaw Spike felt the raw fury burn through his veins, charring familial bonds in one act of emotional violence.

It wasn’t enough that he had violated her humanity but to continue to torment her with his violent attentions---it took more each night to calm her. How long before they were all destroyed by it?

Not...going...to...happen...boyo. Angelus would fall and his attraction, his damnable obsession for Buffy’s flesh would ensure it.

Already he was ensconced in the bitch’s bed thanks to instinct. The play between the two had gone on for too long so he just nudged it a bit. Spike could only hope that the Slayer had enough wits and spine to keep Angelus amused for more than a night or two. The longer she kept him entertained, the easier it would be for Spike to maneuver the pieces of mutiny into place.

Blessed by Druscilla’s laughter Spike again saw a glimpse of sunshine. There could be no comparison between the two: demon or defiled bride of Christ, Druscilla held more within her than any human girl could ever even hope to.

What could the eternal attraction be between Angelus and human women? In all their years together Spike had been witness to countless of his bloody infatuations, but this one with the Slayer made all the others seem like quick kisses in the dark.

Gently smiling at the beauty of her glorious unbound hair, Spike idly wondered if Angelus even knew what it was. Perhaps he too was looking for a glimpse of elusive sunshine...

Druscilla’s arms were outstretched and her head tilted back as she twirled in a circle. Abruptly the dizzying view of the ceiling changed into truth. A piercing scream flew from her throat as she bonelessly collapsed on the ground. Vaguely she heard Spike’s hoarse shout before she was locked away from, locked away into her mind and the terrifying visions of truth that were displayed so vividly.

She did not feel the hand that wrenched the circlet out of her hair. She did not feel the fingers that smoothed her brow. She did not hear the pained sounds of worry. All Druscilla could do was lay there staring blankly into the space in front of her. Minutes passed as the vision filtered itself into her fractured mind.

Finally she slowly turned her head, feeling the leather beneath her cheek. Looking up into Spike’s deeply concerned expression she whispered “It has begun.”

The world still spun about and about...

In a dimension that could be on Earth, that could be a million years into the past or a million years into the liquid future, time and space shifted. The disturbance could be felt by all the inhabitants causing them to still in their own existence. The disturbance continued to grow and grow much like the pebble, wave, and lake.

Coming out of the darkness a disembodied voice thundered. The voice thundered and reached all parts of the dimension, seeking to reach the inhabitants until none had doubt. The voice shouted only three words: