Improvising Atonement (17/?)
Aug. 12th, 2008 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Thanks to my speedy and savvy beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
noandwhere. This chapter marks the end of Season One. Previous parts can be found here or in tags.
Midnight…
The lights of the train flickered once, then twice as it pulled into the darkened Sunnydale station. Two pairs of dark eyes met and held, malice sparking between them as they dropped the blood soaked bodies onto the carpeted aisle. Graceful and delicate hands danced across the space that separated them, inscribing sigils in the air.
“Death,” she intoned, fingers quivering in excitement. “Lord meets Master and neither cares to take a bow. Oh, Angelus! The train brought us too late and now the world won’t end properly.”
“Not to worry,” he responded carelessly, tongue snaking out to lap at the blood dripping from her fingers. “We can always end it later. Now let’s see about finding some decent accommodations in this dump. Darla’ll be pleased to move out of whatever sewer she’s been forced to camp out in.”
He laced his fingers with hers, pulling her close and nestling her slim body into the contours of his harder one. He brushed strong fingers against her stiffening nipples, smirking as her soft moan filled the still night air. Suitable housing would clearly have to wait.
*~*~*
Six hours earlier…
“Someone me remind again why this is a good idea?” Buffy said, eyes cutting to look over at a sheepish Xander.
Spike tilted his head back, staring in irritation at the ceiling. That made the third time in as many hours that Xander had dropped his weapon. If he couldn’t keep his hands on it here, sitting undisturbed in the library, how the hell was he going to survive the hordes of vampires and other nasties waiting for them underneath Sunnydale?
“Buffy,” Giles said reprovingly. “You’ve read the prophecy.”
“No,” she said, her voice turning sharp and cool. “You read me the prophecy. Difference. And based on that, I’m dragging my friends into mortal danger. “
“Not so much a drag,” Xander objected. “More of a brisk jog. A lope, really and how many lopers do you ever see these days?”
Spike stood, walking over to the large windows that lined the whole of one wall. The Slayer had a point. She’d also been making it for the last three hours. They’d all been over this so many times and now they were just chasing their own tails. He’d seen this before, felt it. Battle jitters affected everyone differently. The Slayer got bitchy, Xander got clumsy and he felt his demon stirring inside him, anxious for blood and pain and…
“Ready to die?”
Spike closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest against the cool glass. “Remind me not to call you if I’m feeling suicidal,” he grumbled, but his hand drifted backwards, his fingers just touching Xander’s.
“You think I wouldn’t talk you down?” Xander asked lightly, pressing his palm against Spike’s.
Spike shook his head. This close to Xander, hearing the susurrus of blood and breath, smelling the heat and musk of his body, combined with the demonic pressure of feed, fight, and fuck put him perilously close to the edge of his control. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to speak.
“I got your back,” Xander said and he threaded their fingers together, closing his large hand around Spike’s slighter one.
Spike’s eyes snapped open and he stared straight ahead, his body frozen. Xander was holding his hand.
“I never did have that talk with you,” Xander went on, staring fixedly out the window. “I was going to demand you tell me what the hell you wanted from me and why you thought I’d be willing to…well, willing to.”
“Yeah?” Spike croaked, too focused on the sensation of Xander’s flesh pressed against his to really respond.
“Yeah,” Xander confirmed. “And I’m not saying I’m willing to be your boyfriend or whatever when this is over. But, I thought maybe you might…”
“Might.” Spike repeated.
“Wanna hang out and get to know each other,” Xander said in a rush. “Unless vampires are too cool for that. I mean, I can understand the whole mystique of the undead. I’ve watched tons of horror movies and there’s definitely a mystique. You’re very mystique-y.”
Spike whirled around and pressed his lips against Xander’s, stemming the flow of words. He stared at Xander, their eyes locked in mutual surprise. Slowly, he pulled back.
“Been wanting to kiss you for sodding months,” he breathed.
Xander nodded slowly, his eyes focused on Spike’s mouth. One deep breath became two and Spike could only stand there.
“So,” Xander murmured. “Assuming we don’t die, you wanna maybe hang out later? I’ve got a dance to skip and I could use the company.”
“Yeah, could do.” Spike cracked a hesitant smile. “What’re my chances of getting you down to your knickers later?”
*~*~*
12:09…
Angelus reared back, wrenching himself out of Drusilla’s grasp. He choked, his throat closing as he tried desperately to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his ears, the persistent thud driving him mad.
He fought against his rising panic. He’d taken his last breath over 200 years ago in filthy Galway alley and not another since. His hand snaked over his still, silent chest in an effort to chase away the lingering feeling of his beating heart.
“What in the…” Angelus exclaimed, whirling back to face Drusilla. “Dru darling? What’s the matter?”
Her pale face shone under the bright white lights lining the street. A shiny streak of silver trailed down her face, the brine salt stench of sorrow wafting under his nose. She stared at him, mad eyes sightless and bereft.
“Pretty maids all in a row,” she whispered brokenly. “He lined up all my dollies and smashed them, one two three. There’ll be no reunion now, my sweet. Sweet William’s dashed the china to bits.”
“William,” Angelus repeated blankly. “What about him? What’s he got to do with…Is he here?”
Angelus strode back to her, wrapping his large fists around her thin upper arms and shaking her.
“Is Spike here?” Angelus ground out. “Tell me.”
“Your blue-eyed boy wants to play,” Drusilla told him dreamily, swaying in his arms.
“Such lovely games, Angelus, all sharp points and fire. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down…”
*~*~*
12:01…
“Go,” Spike shouted, dodging an outflung claw. “Buggering bloody fuck, go! One of us has to catch up to the bloody Slayer!”
Xander shook his head, too busy fighting off his own attacker to waste breath responding. As soon as Buffy had descended into the sewers, they’d been ambushed. Three vampires leapt from the shadows, and it was only due to a stellar spinning back kick plus a spring-loaded wrist stake that they’d survived this long. Will kept screaming for Xander to go, go, go! But Xander figured Buffy was facing even odds with The Master. Leaving Will here, outnumbered, seemed wrong.
“How adorable,” Darla sneered. “Is he your pet human? No wait, I forgot. You’re weak now. Useless. You actually have feelings for these cattle.”
“Bloody right I do,” Spike snarled back, his boot flying up to connect with her chin. “And I’d be more than happy to beat you bloody to prove it.”
He swung around, his fist following the path his boot had taken. “Actually, pretty happy to beat you bloody regardless.”
Xander ducked underneath the swinging fists of the vampire attacking him, hoping to get behind him and shove a stake somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. As he ducked, he tripped. He lay there, sprawled and helpless on the damp ground as he tried to recover enough breath to scream. He stared up at the ugly misshapen features of the demon above and his mouth dropped open as they dissolved into dust. Spike’s face emerged from cloud, his own features distorted by bumps and fangs. A deceptively slender arm locked around Spike’s neck, dragging him away.
“Slayer,” Spike rasped. “Go…to…Slayer!”
Xander made it to his feet. He ran towards the steep slope he’d seen Buffy go down, pausing to look back at Will. The blond was on his knees, fingers sifting through a pile of ash.
“Will,” Xander shouted. “Come on! Buffy’s gonna need something resembling real help.”
“Yeah,” Spike replied vaguely. “I’m coming.”
End Season One
Season II: Chapter 18
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: A vampire with a soul comes to Sunnydale to help The Slayer. Can a demon ever atone?
A/N: Thanks to my speedy and savvy beta,
noandwhere. This chapter marks the end of Season One. Previous parts can be found here or in tags. Midnight…
The lights of the train flickered once, then twice as it pulled into the darkened Sunnydale station. Two pairs of dark eyes met and held, malice sparking between them as they dropped the blood soaked bodies onto the carpeted aisle. Graceful and delicate hands danced across the space that separated them, inscribing sigils in the air.
“Death,” she intoned, fingers quivering in excitement. “Lord meets Master and neither cares to take a bow. Oh, Angelus! The train brought us too late and now the world won’t end properly.”
“Not to worry,” he responded carelessly, tongue snaking out to lap at the blood dripping from her fingers. “We can always end it later. Now let’s see about finding some decent accommodations in this dump. Darla’ll be pleased to move out of whatever sewer she’s been forced to camp out in.”
He laced his fingers with hers, pulling her close and nestling her slim body into the contours of his harder one. He brushed strong fingers against her stiffening nipples, smirking as her soft moan filled the still night air. Suitable housing would clearly have to wait.
*~*~*
Six hours earlier…
“Someone me remind again why this is a good idea?” Buffy said, eyes cutting to look over at a sheepish Xander.
Spike tilted his head back, staring in irritation at the ceiling. That made the third time in as many hours that Xander had dropped his weapon. If he couldn’t keep his hands on it here, sitting undisturbed in the library, how the hell was he going to survive the hordes of vampires and other nasties waiting for them underneath Sunnydale?
“Buffy,” Giles said reprovingly. “You’ve read the prophecy.”
“No,” she said, her voice turning sharp and cool. “You read me the prophecy. Difference. And based on that, I’m dragging my friends into mortal danger. “
“Not so much a drag,” Xander objected. “More of a brisk jog. A lope, really and how many lopers do you ever see these days?”
Spike stood, walking over to the large windows that lined the whole of one wall. The Slayer had a point. She’d also been making it for the last three hours. They’d all been over this so many times and now they were just chasing their own tails. He’d seen this before, felt it. Battle jitters affected everyone differently. The Slayer got bitchy, Xander got clumsy and he felt his demon stirring inside him, anxious for blood and pain and…
“Ready to die?”
Spike closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest against the cool glass. “Remind me not to call you if I’m feeling suicidal,” he grumbled, but his hand drifted backwards, his fingers just touching Xander’s.
“You think I wouldn’t talk you down?” Xander asked lightly, pressing his palm against Spike’s.
Spike shook his head. This close to Xander, hearing the susurrus of blood and breath, smelling the heat and musk of his body, combined with the demonic pressure of feed, fight, and fuck put him perilously close to the edge of his control. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to speak.
“I got your back,” Xander said and he threaded their fingers together, closing his large hand around Spike’s slighter one.
Spike’s eyes snapped open and he stared straight ahead, his body frozen. Xander was holding his hand.
“I never did have that talk with you,” Xander went on, staring fixedly out the window. “I was going to demand you tell me what the hell you wanted from me and why you thought I’d be willing to…well, willing to.”
“Yeah?” Spike croaked, too focused on the sensation of Xander’s flesh pressed against his to really respond.
“Yeah,” Xander confirmed. “And I’m not saying I’m willing to be your boyfriend or whatever when this is over. But, I thought maybe you might…”
“Might.” Spike repeated.
“Wanna hang out and get to know each other,” Xander said in a rush. “Unless vampires are too cool for that. I mean, I can understand the whole mystique of the undead. I’ve watched tons of horror movies and there’s definitely a mystique. You’re very mystique-y.”
Spike whirled around and pressed his lips against Xander’s, stemming the flow of words. He stared at Xander, their eyes locked in mutual surprise. Slowly, he pulled back.
“Been wanting to kiss you for sodding months,” he breathed.
Xander nodded slowly, his eyes focused on Spike’s mouth. One deep breath became two and Spike could only stand there.
“So,” Xander murmured. “Assuming we don’t die, you wanna maybe hang out later? I’ve got a dance to skip and I could use the company.”
“Yeah, could do.” Spike cracked a hesitant smile. “What’re my chances of getting you down to your knickers later?”
*~*~*
12:09…
Angelus reared back, wrenching himself out of Drusilla’s grasp. He choked, his throat closing as he tried desperately to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his ears, the persistent thud driving him mad.
He fought against his rising panic. He’d taken his last breath over 200 years ago in filthy Galway alley and not another since. His hand snaked over his still, silent chest in an effort to chase away the lingering feeling of his beating heart.
“What in the…” Angelus exclaimed, whirling back to face Drusilla. “Dru darling? What’s the matter?”
Her pale face shone under the bright white lights lining the street. A shiny streak of silver trailed down her face, the brine salt stench of sorrow wafting under his nose. She stared at him, mad eyes sightless and bereft.
“Pretty maids all in a row,” she whispered brokenly. “He lined up all my dollies and smashed them, one two three. There’ll be no reunion now, my sweet. Sweet William’s dashed the china to bits.”
“William,” Angelus repeated blankly. “What about him? What’s he got to do with…Is he here?”
Angelus strode back to her, wrapping his large fists around her thin upper arms and shaking her.
“Is Spike here?” Angelus ground out. “Tell me.”
“Your blue-eyed boy wants to play,” Drusilla told him dreamily, swaying in his arms.
“Such lovely games, Angelus, all sharp points and fire. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down…”
*~*~*
12:01…
“Go,” Spike shouted, dodging an outflung claw. “Buggering bloody fuck, go! One of us has to catch up to the bloody Slayer!”
Xander shook his head, too busy fighting off his own attacker to waste breath responding. As soon as Buffy had descended into the sewers, they’d been ambushed. Three vampires leapt from the shadows, and it was only due to a stellar spinning back kick plus a spring-loaded wrist stake that they’d survived this long. Will kept screaming for Xander to go, go, go! But Xander figured Buffy was facing even odds with The Master. Leaving Will here, outnumbered, seemed wrong.
“How adorable,” Darla sneered. “Is he your pet human? No wait, I forgot. You’re weak now. Useless. You actually have feelings for these cattle.”
“Bloody right I do,” Spike snarled back, his boot flying up to connect with her chin. “And I’d be more than happy to beat you bloody to prove it.”
He swung around, his fist following the path his boot had taken. “Actually, pretty happy to beat you bloody regardless.”
Xander ducked underneath the swinging fists of the vampire attacking him, hoping to get behind him and shove a stake somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. As he ducked, he tripped. He lay there, sprawled and helpless on the damp ground as he tried to recover enough breath to scream. He stared up at the ugly misshapen features of the demon above and his mouth dropped open as they dissolved into dust. Spike’s face emerged from cloud, his own features distorted by bumps and fangs. A deceptively slender arm locked around Spike’s neck, dragging him away.
“Slayer,” Spike rasped. “Go…to…Slayer!”
Xander made it to his feet. He ran towards the steep slope he’d seen Buffy go down, pausing to look back at Will. The blond was on his knees, fingers sifting through a pile of ash.
“Will,” Xander shouted. “Come on! Buffy’s gonna need something resembling real help.”
“Yeah,” Spike replied vaguely. “I’m coming.”
End Season One
Season II: Chapter 18
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2008-08-13 04:10 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-22 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-13 04:42 am (UTC)You handle the panic in the sewers with aplomb as well. Spike's accidental dusting of Darla and his numbed, shocked reaction is very poignant but not at all maudlin or overdone. What a terrific cliff hanger to end this on!
no subject
on 2008-08-13 08:04 am (UTC)Are you going to give us a season 2? Please?
Just one small quibble, sorry to pick at such a powerful scene
“I never did have that talk with you,” Xander went on, meeting his eyes in the glass. um...Spike has a reflection?
no subject
on 2008-08-22 02:38 am (UTC)Uhm, yeah the library has a special...uhm...vampire reflective glass so Giles can never be snuck up on. Or possibly the writer is just a complete moron.
It's fixed and I appreciate the catch. And yes, I'm working on S2. Shut it down just as Angelus shows up? Oh no way! I'm glad you like it, though. Thank you, sweetie!
no subject
on 2008-08-22 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-13 05:39 pm (UTC)I always like to see a good Dru, and you've done her proud here.
no subject
on 2008-08-22 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-14 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-22 02:42 am (UTC)Also, a bit more honestly, I don't pay much attention to Buffy. This story is told mainly from Spike's point of view with an occasional shift to Xander. Without following Buffy, a great deal of the show falls away and so it is with this story.
I'm glad you enjoyed this and my apologies for the tl;dr.
no subject
on 2008-08-19 07:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-22 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-26 05:31 pm (UTC)Xander opening up and actually voicing his attraction was in character. Xander likes to take impending doom as a jumping off point for revealing his feelings. It's a gift. Spike's reaction was delightful. The almost panic here was lovely: Spike’s eyes snapped open and he stared straight ahead, his body frozen. Xander was holding his hand. It's charmingly adolescent for a Master vampire to freeze up at a teenager holding his hand. Thank goodness he takes the opportunity to finally kiss Xander.
Jumping to Angelus' panicked heart hitch made me know that Darla was dusted, and Dru's "...[h}e lined up all my dollies and smashed them, one two three. There’ll be no reunion now, my sweet. Sweet William’s dashed the china to bits” confirmed the Master was gone, too.
The vivid fight and mad scrambling was very well choreographed, and Spike being dragged off by a deceptively slender arm was an excellent way to get Darla in the mix. Spike distractedly sifting through ash was confirmation that Darla dusted. Angelus is not going to be happy about this turn of events.
I missed this while on vacation, so now I get to jump right into Book II. Thanks for continuing this very entertaining read.