Part 20 - Untitled
Thy limpid eyes like some woodland pool
Stirred by the Zephyr sweet with scent
Thus like Hippolyte you captured this fool
Bugger it. Spike crumpled up his latest poem and threw it across
the room to join his previous effort.
He’s bloody sad.
It’s been two days since he’s seen her. Two days trying
to talk himself round. Two days, and she’s all he thinks about.
Joyce. Her soft eyes, the way she laughs, that little quirk in her
eyebrow when she fancies she’d said something risqué.
The way her leg felt against his, the steady thrum of her pulse,
the scent of her curling around them in the crowded booth. The taste
of her mouth, so sweet and warm….
Bugger and Fuck.
He’s well past sad and well on the way to pathetic. He ought
to ask that bitch of a Slayer to plant a stake in his heart, put
him out of his misery.
She’s not even that good looking. (She’s lovely) Nor
young (just right).
She’d turned him down. Twice. (Take her.) No, she’d
hate him. (Keep her till she understands.)
She liked a drink, did Joyce. Maybe if he took her out for a nice
dinner, and got a few bottles of wine down her she’d forget
her objections, let him show her how good he’d be for her.
He snorted. Not bloody likely. She’d never accept him for
what he is, she’d want him tamed, wouldn’t want him
killing. Can’t blame her for that, she’s human. She’s
the woolly little lamb and he’s the big bad wolf and that
story always ends the same. (Could fix that)
No! He banged his head against the wall, again.
“Hey, sorry, looks like you’re busy…”
His demon was in full flower as he whirled round to face Angelus.
The tosser had waltzed in again like he owned the place and was
standing there smirking at him.
“What the fuck do you want!” he snapped.
“Had some news I thought you might be interested in.”
Angelus licked his lips. “Found out where the Master’s
Spikes anger evaporated. “You don’t say.”
“A little – rat, ratted him out.”
“Couldn’t happen to a more deserving bloke. So what’s
“We’re working on that. Come by the library tomorrow
night if you want in.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Spike studied his grandsire narrowly; there was something a little
bit off about him. Like the way he kept licking his lips like a
cream-fed tomcat. He moved closer, and took a deep breath.
“Bloody Hell, you’re fucking the cheerleader!”
A second later he was dangling in Angelus’ grip. “Want
to rephrase that?”
Spike wanted to kick Grandpa in the knackers, but as he was still
feeling the damage from the other night had to go for the better
part of valor and all that. “Sorry mate, no offense. Made
a mistake.” The grip on his throat started to ease. “You’d
like to be fucking her, but you haven’t got that far have
There was more than a little of the old bastard flickering in the
other vampire’s eyes as his grip closed down Spike’s
throat and threatened to do real damage, he was wondering if he
hadn’t gone a little too far when Angelus let him go.
“Yeah, well you’d know all about that, wouldn’t
you?” Angelus said with an evil smirk. “Write her any
Spike glared at him, rubbing his throat and refused to answer.
Angelus turned and headed for the door. “See you around 8,”
he said and was gone.
The warmth of his news lingered though. The prospect of finally
taking down that bat-faced bastard, of paying him back for Drusilla,
of watching his withered arse scattered in a black cloud of dust…it
was nearly enough to take his mind off Joyce.
“Miss Calendar? Might I have a word?”
She was less than ten feet from the exit, just a few quick steps
from freedom. The dark-haired computer teacher seriously considered
making a run for it when she heard the librarian’s voice behind
her. She’d been avoiding him successfully for the past week
and a half but her luck had finally run out. Hiding her dismay she
turned to face him. “Mr. Giles?”
He smiled. “Could you come in here please? I have something
to discuss with you.”
“I was just on my way home, can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“It won’t take long.”
Jenny reluctantly followed him into the library. She’d avoided
the place even before the Watcher had moved in and she liked it
even less now. The musty odor of books filled with unwholesome knowledge
along with the throbbing of the Hellmouth underfoot put her nerves
on edge. No wonder the library was so unpopular with the students;
it amazed her that anyone could work there.
“I wanted to talk to you about Angelus.”
Steel glinted in Mr. Giles deceptively mild eyes. “Angelus.
Please spare me the pretense. You know exactly who I am just as
I know exactly who you are, daughter of the Kalderash.”
“Fine then Watcher,” she bit out. “Why do you
care about Angelus? He’s no threat to your precious Slayer.”
Rupert Giles nodded. “Indeed, since your tribe cursed him
with a soul he’s been no threat to anyone. However, I have
it on good authority that that could change. Are you aware that
he’ll lose his soul if he ever experiences a moment of perfect
Jenny fought to hide her shock. How could he know about that? It
was one of the most closely held secrets of her tribe. What traitor
could have told him? Jenny forced a contemptuous smile onto her
face. “The soul was meant to make him suffer, not to let him
live as a man. If he ever forgets what a monster he is, then the
tribe’s revenge has failed and the curse broken.”
She’d never noticed how very cold his eyes could be. “That
is simply – despicable. To be so completely careless of all
the people who would suffer and die if Angelus got free! Didn’t
they care? Don’t you care?”
“It’s not my place to judge the elders.”
“Can I go now?”
“Not just yet. We’re not finished here.”
“I think we are.” She turned her back on him and headed
for the door and screamed when Angelus slid out of the shadows to
block her way. Silently he backed her into the room until she was
trapped against the table. He stopped an arms-length from her and
looked down at her, no expression on his pale face.
“You…you escaped from the Master! How?”
A flicker of anger crossed the vampire’s face. “You
knew where I was all the time…of course you did. Bet you hated
that he didn’t dust me and free you from your duty.”
“I won’t feel sorry for you!”
He shrugged. “Fine. But you will help.”
“Help with what?”
“The curse,” Mr. Giles said.
“Cause lately? I’ve been feeling pretty cheerful,”
Angel said, deadpan.
“You’re wondering how I knew about the loophole, since
I’m sure you’re aware that the Council never knew what
had happened to change Angelus’ behavior. My information comes
from a seer; she had a vision of Angelus freed. Among other things
she saw your death and that of your Uncle – Yanosh is his
name I believe.”
Jenny trembled. She wished she could believe he was lying. “If
it’s foretold then there’s nothing that can be done
“Miss Calendar!” Giles reproved her. “You know
as well as I do the difference between Prophecy and Visions. Prophecies
are obscure, unclear, and nearly impossible to evade though they’re
frequently misinterpreted and play out in unexpected ways. Visions
are clear and contingent; they’re sent by the powers precisely
so that we can try to change the future.”
“Even if we could change the future – by helping him
I would be betraying my people, my heritage.”
“Miss Calendar, I don’t know you well, but I believe
you are a good person. Can you really turn your back on all of those
innocent lives for the sake of vengeance?”
Two pairs of eyes stared at her, waiting for her answer.
Angel rubbed his arm and watched warily as Buffy circled him. That
last kick had made his whole body ache. Training with the Slayer
had sounded like a good idea when she suggested it. It would give
them both a chance to get ready for the final assault and he’d
been looking forward to the chance to match himself against a worthy
opponent. He wouldn’t have been so enthusiastic if he’d
known just how worthy.
It had started out well, just sparring and throws in the converted
garage of Giles’ house. Angel had seen her fight, but hadn’t
really appreciated just how strong Buffy was, or how fast, not to
mention sneaky. According to Giles as Slayers went, she was in the
top 10% as far as survival went. If she lasted another year, she’d
be in the top 1%. Still, he’d been pretty sure that if he
weren’t still weak from the years of torture he’d have
been able to take her.
Then Giles left to make a phone call and the mask came off. After
the third kick that jarred his teeth and numbed his bones he’d
stopped worrying about hurting her and started worrying about himself.
He grunted as he hit the mat. He was on his back with Buffy straddling
him, her shiny teeth gleaming as she pressed the plastic stake into
his chest, not quite hard enough to break the skin.
Maybe he could take her. At full strength. On a very good day.
“Uncle,” he said. She dropped the stake and he moved
to get up, but she didn’t get off him. Instead she tightened
the grip of her legs around his and began to slowly rub herself
against him. His brain froze in shock while his stupid fucking cock
responded happily, ready to get him killed again.
“Hey, the cheerleader said you were a eunuch, doesn’t
feel like it to me,” she teased.
“Get. Off. Me. Now!”
Buffy just grinned, shook her head, and ground down a little harder.
She looked genuinely surprised when he lurched up and slammed his
forehead into her face. That put her off balance long enough for
him to dump her onto the floor. He jumped to his feet and faced
“Motherfucker,” she hissed, wiping away the trickle
of blood at the corner of her mouth.
“We’re done here.” Angel said trying to ignore
the demon howling and rattling its chains inside his head; it was
more than willing to give the Slayer what she was begging for.
“The hell we are!” she hissed. She scrambled up and
his whole body tensed.
They both whirled round as the door smashed open. Three demons
ran into the room. They were big bastards, the smallest made two
of him, he didn’t recognize the species. They wore chainmail
over their scaly hides and had claws and teeth to supplement the
personal armory each carried. Angel figured they weren’t here
to discuss membership options. The smallest one took up a position
in front of the door as the other two rushed to the attack.
Buffy and Angel’s eyes met. “I’ll take the big
one,” the Slayer said and did.
Angel’s eyes went yellow and the world snapped into sharper
focus. His aches and pains faded as the demon surged. He was aware
of the Slayer back-flipping to the other side of the room where
they’d left the training weapons. His attacker chopped at
him with an elaborate halberd and looked surprised when Angel easily
“Nice weapon, but kinda awkward in a space like this,”
he Angel pointed out helpfully.
The demon bared yellowed fangs and tried again. Angel ducked again,
the demon was big but clumsy; he could do this all night. He noticed
a medallion on its chest that looked familiar. But this was no time
to play memory games he realized, as the demon changed strategies
and tried a low sweep that nearly cut him off at the knees. He jumped
over the blade, and got behind the demon, leapt up onto its back
and wrapped his arms around the thick neck and bit down hard. The
demon roared, and clawed at his arms trying to rip him loose, but
Angel held on grimly, using his jagged teeth to gnaw through the
thick skin until he reached the vein and tore it open. Angel let
go and threw himself clear as the demon dropped and rolled on the
floor, smearing purplish blood over the mats.
Angel spat out the mouthful of foul tasting blood and watched in
disgust as the demon got to its feet and drew a short sword. Cursing
him in some demon tongue it lunged at Angel, apparently oblivious
to the steady pulse of gore spurting from the ragged hole Angel
had made in its neck. Stubborn bastard.
Angel felt his heel nudge something. He glanced down and grabbed
up Buffy’s quarterstaff, bringing it up just in time to block
the down sweep of the sword. The blade lodged in the wood and Angel
yanked it away and threw it across the room. He landed two solid
hits on its chin that set the demon back on its heels and backed
away before the demon could retaliate. The wound he’d inflicted
was still bleeding, but he thought the pulse was beginning to slow
as the demon roared and pulled out a morningstar. Angel watched
warily as it swung the spiked ball round so fast he could only see
He was distracted for a moment by an enormous crash behind him,
where Buffy was dealing with her opponent.
“Fuck!” Angel swore as spikes tore into his side and
cracked a couple of ribs. He tried to tell himself that the demon
was tiring. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle, but for all he
knew that meant the thing was healing. This was getting tedious
he thought as he danced backwards to avoid a swipe that nearly took
his head off. He dipped under its guard and managed to land a hard
blow to its middle, bruising his knuckles on the mail. Pissed off
the demon lashed out with a huge fist, missed, and buried its arm
elbow deep in the wall. Stuck. Angel took his chance, grabbed the
demon’s head in both hands and twisted with all the strength
he had left until he heard a dull crack.
The demon collapsed. Its eyes were still bright and hateful, but
it was helpless to stop him from selecting an ax from its belt.
“It’s been fun, but I’ve gotta go now,”
Angel said, and brought the ax down.
Angel dropped the ax next to the headless demon and turned around
to see how Buffy was doing.
She was doing just fine. Her first demon was down and she had moved
on to fencing with the door guard. She didn’t look worried
and watching her in action when he wasn’t the victim of her
blows was a pleasure, but Angel figured it was time to finish this.
He bent down and removed a throwing star from the dead demon’s
belt, aimed carefully, and let fly.
Buffy had to jump out of the way as her opponent collapsed without
warning. She redirected her scowl to Angel when she saw the metal
buried at the base of its skull.
“Giles,” he explained. Something like guilt appeared
in her eyes for a moment and she turned and ran up the stairs, Angel
was right behind her.
"The order of Taranta," Giles said after examining the
medallion that had caught Angel's interest. "They are a society
of demon assassins dating back to King Solomon. It appears you have
some powerful enemies."
"The Master?" Angel asked.
Giles shook his head and winced; he'd taken a pretty good blow
to the head but refused to go to the hospital. "It could be,
though I wouldn't think he'd be likely to contract out his revenge
in this way."
Angel nodded. "Not really his style, no. He'd want to get
his claws dirty."
"So who then?"
"I'm sure we'll find out in due time," Giles said resignedly.
Buffy looked disgusted. "Great. Just great."
Joyce sighed as she looked around the bar. She’d come in
here because she'd needed at least one drink after meeting with
her lawyer. The meeting had resembled a series of good news/bad
news jokes. Good News: someone owed her a lot of money. Bad News:
it was going to be months before she could get her hands on any
of it. Good News: re-establishing her identity shouldn’t be
difficult. Bad News: the LAPD had questions about the dead woman
buried under her name and where she’d been all this time.
The new pub/bar ‘Loess’ that had opened in what used
to be the old hardware store looked like just the ticket. When she’d
walked in the place had obviously just opened for business, she
was almost the only customer which had suited her mood. Now she
was ready to go home. Somehow several hours had slipped away while
she smoothed her sorrows with more than one drink. She was feeling
distinctly out of place now that the bar had filled up with people
younger, prettier and richer (or at least faking it) than herself
and every last one on the prowl.
Not that she’d mind some company herself, but she didn’t
think much of her chances here.
Joyce got up. She took a moment to get her bearings and make sure
she had everything—purse: check; sweater: check; legs: mostly
here—and then proceeded in a dignified fashion toward the
He hadn’t been looking for her. He’d been out for
a walk, hoping to clear his head maybe find something to kill, when
he’d spotted the new place. ‘Loess’ was obviously
designed to be a step up from the Bronze: no kids here, just ‘professionals’
dressed in expensively casual wear; Spike knew he stood out like
a crow in a dovecot in his jeans, Doc’s and leather but no
one tried to stop him from coming in. No mirrors or crosses at the
entrance. They’d learn or die, made no difference to him.
He felt all eyes on him as he parted the sea of oblivious sprats
and made his way to the bar. The bartender gave him a bit of the
fish-eye but served him without an argument.
Spike took a long swallow of his drink as he turned around to scan
the crowd appreciatively. One thing he did like about California
was the care people took of themselves. Pub like this in London,
the cattle would be mostly pasty and pot-bellied, whereas here nearly
everyone qualified as a tasty treat. Good hunting…if he weren’t
on a diet until after the Master was dust.
So, no killing, but a bit of slap and tickle wouldn’t come
amiss. He smiled as he made eye contact with a pretty blonde bit.
Her eyes widened with definite interest and she licked her lips
in a way that boded well for his evening.
If he hadn’t turned his head that moment to order another
drink, he’d have missed her.
He noticed she was a bit unsteady on her pins as she excused her
way through the crowd, headed for the back where the loo was. He
told himself he was over her, that she’d made it clear enough
that she didn’t want to see him. Told himself he’d decided
to let her go.
He was off the stool and after her before he’d finished lying
Joyce emerged from the toilets with her cell phone in hand and
the expression on her face of the slightly drunk as she concentrated
on making a call. It took a moment for her to register that someone
was standing nearby.
“Spike?” Her voice was slightly slurred and he could
smell the alcohol on her breath. She wasn’t that drunk, but
her reactions were slowed and her defenses down. Easy pickings.
He moved fast, mouth covering hers before she could finish opening
her mouth to protest. Not making the same mistake as before, this
time he took his time, ignoring her undefended tongue in favor of
the long slow lick and suck of her lips coaxing her into compliance
until she groaned and leaned into him, warm and soft, she was only
an inch or two shorter than him, a perfect fit. He slipped one hand
between them to cup her full breast, catching her hard nipple between
his fingers. Her soft belly pressed into his lean, felt better than
fresh blood. He felt the pulse of her wrist vibrating against the
side of his neck as her fingers combed restlessly through the short
hairs at the back of his neck.
He pushed his leg between hers and lifted her up a little, feeling
the heat of her cleft as she rubbed herself slowly on him. His cock
was so hard he was surprised it didn’t burst through the denim.
She kept kissing him open-mouthed and eager, her hands roaming his
shoulders, his back, wherever she could reach him and the scent
of her excitement made him feel lightheaded and made him want to
bury himself inside her, right here, right now, and fuck the consequences.
But that wouldn’t be right, not for his Joyce.
He managed somehow to pull away from her addictive mouth. “Luv,
we need to get out of here,” he hissed. She stayed half-slumped
against the wall for the longest moment in his life, then blinked
and straightened up.
“You’d better drive,” she said with a sly grin.
He grabbed her hand and took her out of there before she could
change her mind; good little Sunnydalers all, no-one gave so much
as a second look as he dragged her out of the club.
Outside it was cold for California. She shivered and he yanked
off the duster and hung it round her shoulders. It was a good fit.
It was all he could do not to simply lift her up and carry her as
she tottered slowly along in her silly shoes. When they finally
reached his car he snatched open the door and bundled her in. He
jumped in the other side and roared out of the parking lot.
Joyce opened the window so she could feel the cool air on her
face. Spike had the steering wheel in a death grip, totally focused
on the road as he tried to push the old car past the sound barrier.
They must be going to his place since she didn’t recognize
any of the scenery flashing past.
She’s just tipsy, not really drunk; she knows what she’s
doing when she reaches across and settles her hand in his crotch,
just fuzzy enough to shamelessly enjoy his gasp and the way his
cock twitched and hardened under her hand. She squeezed and Spike
swore and swerved off the road, the car skidding to a halt just
short of the barrier.
He was gone from his seat and yanking open her door before she
knew what was happening. He kissed her breathless before pulling
her around until she was balanced on the edge of the seat, legs
out in the cool air. He spread her knees and knelt between them
and looked up at her as his hands slid up the outside of her thighs.
He hooked his fingers in the top of her panties and stopped. His
uncompromisingly blue eyes stared into hers until she squirmed on
the old cloth seat.
“Please?” she breathed. And that, thank god, is the
right answer because suddenly her panties were gone. She felt cold
air cooling her dampness for an instant, then his mouth flickering
like cold flame over the inside of her thighs; melting her like
He slid one long finger into her, working it down to the knuckle
and twisting till he hit something inside that made her see stars
through the car roof. Relentless, he added more fingers, stretching
her to the point of pain while his mouth pulled her higher and higher,
he started fucking her fast and hard and pain and pleasure merged,
sweeping away the last of her detachment and she was pinned there
by his hands and mouth, feeling everything until it crashed down
into white light.
As the colors seeped back into her vision she felt herself being
lifted up and out into the cool night. She giggled when he seated
her on the hood because this was getting to be a habit with her
and at least this time she’s got the leather insulating her
bare ass from the smooth metal. She heard the sound of a zipper
and then those sure hands were on her hips, pulling her forward.
She looked up at Spike’s desperate face, and reached down
to help him and then he was in her and it’s not as cold as
his hands but it felt strange and sweet Christ he was big, and it’s
been too long, she can’t take it. She tried to push him out,
get away but he wouldn’t let go.
“Sssh, sssh, it’s gonna be O.K.” He’s shaking.
Very slowly he shifted her, lifting her into a different position
and suddenly it didn’t hurt at all. They stared at each other,
startled as he slid all the way home.
He started off slow, gently rocking her, like she was made of glass.
Testing her limits, slow steady thrusts becoming harder, deeper
when she didn’t break. Slowly the push and pull brought her
nerve endings back to life. Throbbing warmth spread up her spine,
making her nipples hard, cycling back to her center and his stony
grip relaxed when she began to push back, and match his rhythm.
He started talking, murmuring praises intermittently lost in the
noise of passing cars. Beautiful. Love. So warm. So tight. Lovely
girl, my girl, yes love like that. Wonderful, Joyce, oh Joyce…
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Love you. The car was rocking and creaking
under them, anyone passing would know what was happening there,
and she should care about that but she didn’t because Spike’s
clever fingers had slipped in to spark a conflagration that roared
through her whole body and sent her flying up into the black sky
again. From a long way away she heard him swear her name as he pounded
into her so hard she knew there’d be bruises. He snarled as
he convulsed inside her and collapsed to cover her; he’s heavy
and only a little warmer than the night.
He recovered quicker than she did. Apologized as he stood and helped
her sit up pulling down her skirt and wrapping the coat around her.
Her legs buckled when she tried to stand and he lifted her up and
carried her back to the car and placed her tenderly into her seat.
The rest of the journey was a blur. She was pleasantly limp and
“Wake up love, we’re here.”
She blinked up at Spike who was smiling down at her ready to help
her out of the car. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kept
her pressed close to his hard cool body as he escorted her into
the old brick apartment building.
Posted 20 June 2004