Title: The Collar
Rating: R / NC-17 in later parts
Disclaimer: I have absolutely no rights to BtVS or AtS, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy
Warnings: Rape, Bloodplay, Violence. Because Angelus is a right bastard.
Summary: Angelus leaves Buffy a Valentine's gift, but she isn't the one to open it. AU from the Season 2 Episode Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered
Chapter: 1 and 2 of 6
"You're going to win us a new kitten, my Spike." Dru danced around the bed laughing.
"Am I now, Pet?" Spike asked smiling up at her, enjoying the slight sway as she worked herself into a frenzy of movement.
"The stars whisper to me that my kitten is coming, you're going to win him. We mustn't tell daddy though. Daddy will take our kitten away for himself, and I want to watch you play with him for me. The stars tell me you're going to frolic and play with the kitten long after I'm gone, but I want to watch you play first. Maybe take just a drop or two before I go."
"Well now, we wouldn't want daddy to ruin our fun, but where will you be going, luv?" 'And just why the hell do I wanna play with a damned kitten?' "I think you're right. A regular vamp's night out with the boys. Some poker and some mayhem would be a right treat."
Xander had spent the last several hours groveling his rear end off. He'd really messed things up with that damned love spell, and spent every waking hour trying to make it up to his girls and their respective guys. Willow was avoid-o-girl, Giles was busy distracting Jenny, Oz was, well Oz, and Buffy was off with her mom, probably trying to explain about the 'treasure hunt'.
Since he couldn't really make anything up to Willow, and Cordy still hated him with a passion, Xander decided to do one of the few things he did well, whittle stakes, to make it up to Buffy. He settled into a seat with a trash can under him and a stack of wood on the table next to him and prepared to get to work when a small velvet box caught his eye. It was blood red and settled next to a stack of books Buffy had forgotten the day before mid spell. There was a small tag with 'Buffy' written on it in elegant script.
Curiosity overriding good sense, he reached over and opened up the box to see a small silver choker with a tiny intricate charm on it. He couldn't quite make out what the charm was supposed to be, it looked almost Egyptian one minute, then maybe Celtic the next, as it caught the light differently. Intrigued, Xander picked up the necklace to get a better look.
When he touched it, his eyes lost all semblance of life. Like an automaton he put the small choker around his neck and hooked the clasp. As he did life came back into his eyes for the brief second before they started glowing green. In another second he disappeared entirely. In his place sat a cocoa brown kitten with fluffy hair and brown eyes; Intelligent brown eyes that screamed out 'Oh Crap'. The kitten was wearing a collar very similar to the choker in design.
After several long minutes of frantic running around, and attempting to 'paw' off the offending collar, the small brown kitten started looking for a way out, looking for help. He scratched at the doors to the library, but obviously had no way to move them. After several unsuccessful tries to jump up to the counter where the phone sat, the kitten threw itself down on the floor and wrapped both paws over it's eyes.
It was still laying there, asleep now, when one of the custodial staff, a mierkalla demon, picked it up by the scruff and tucked it hissing into a small pouch that hung off his hip.
"You'll make a real niccce buy innn, felllla." He mumbled to himself while dumping the trash can and wandering off with a new spring in his step, his head filled with thoughts of tonight's game.
Spike got comfortable up against the table and took in the competition, or lack there off. There was a friendly looking bloke who reminded him of an overeager shar pei, a couple vamps, and a mierkalla who looked right anxious. The two minions who'd helped him get here were 'standing guard' out in the main part of the bar waiting for orders.
The mierkalla was the toughest competition that night. The lucky bugger had started out with one cocoa kitten and by the last hand of the night both he and Spike were fairly well even stakes wise. The shar pei bloke, who apparently went by Clem at least according to his blushing self introduction, had quit the game first with a pair of tabbies left to his name. The two other vamp's were up and down over the course of the evening, but by the final hand of the night, it was down to just Spike and the mierkalla.
He'd gotten the better of Spike and taken the last hand, but unfortunately for the mierkalla, he owed some pretty heavy hitters several litters worth of kittens. They saw fit to collect right before the start of the last round, leaving him with just the cocoa beauty he'd started out with.
"Oye mate, how bout one last hand?" Spike asked, eying the plump morsel cowering alone in the mierkalla's basket.
"I would love to Massster Ssspike, but you arrre out of kittensss." He said with a regretful voice.
"Well now, my princess wants a kitten, and I'd love one more hand before this wheelchair turns into a pumpkin, so ta speak. What say I wager some actual cash against that chocolate drop you got left. One hand, winner takes all?" Spike dropped a couple fifties into the center of the table.
"Yesss, Massster Ssspike, one morrre hand would be lovvvely. Winnerrr takesss alll."
From the moment he'd gotten his hands on the kitten, it just felt wrong. Very un-kittenlike, flat out terrified of him, and generally too damned smart for a feline. Then there was the collar. He KNEW he'd seen a design like that before, but he couldn't remember for the life of him where. "Oh well, Dru wanted a kitten, and I certainly delivered."
He sat in his infernal wheelchair waiting for the strength to move to the bed. While he waited he took the time to check out the cat. "You know, Pet, as kits go, you're kinda pretty. I mean you got those big brown eyes an' all that long fur."
He scratched under the kittens chin then along one ear, and for about five seconds the kitten seemed lost in the pettings, then shook it's head, as if trying to clear it. That task completed, the kitten turned on the scratching finger and bit, hard.
"Oye, whelp, none o' that. Yer a right feisty little bugger, aintcha?" Holding the kitten by it's scruff, he sat it on the bed carefully. It watched him with wary, intelligent eyes, and licked its lips and whiskers, cleaning up the few drops of vampiric blood it had managed to draw with its sudden assault.
When Spike pulled himself out of the chair and turned to settle in on his own bed, the kitten seemed to rouse itself and ran for cover. In this case, under a beat up old dresser in one corner.
"Oye, cat. I ain't coming down there after you. I'll just let Dru take care of you, since you was her bloody vision and all. You be a good kitten and I'll have the minions pick you up some milk or fish or something tomorrow night."
Miserable, scared, hungry, and alone, Xander Harris curled around himself under Spike's dresser and prayed for safety, or barring that, a quick death that wouldn't end with him rising to murder everyone he loved. It was a very long time before he slipped off to sleep.
Xander woke up with something tickling his nose. He twitched one ear and sleepily reached out one paw to bat at the tip of his own tail. He yawned then scratched his side with his back paw before settling his tail around himself tighter and settling in for more sleep.
'Wait... TAIL... PAWS... WHISKERS... Oh Hell.'
Now totally awake and unfortunately reminded of his less than ideal circumstances, Xander tried to figure out what time it was, and how to sneak past an oddly snoring Spike, when the door of the room opened to let in a pair of delicate bare feet.
Xander heard humming and then cowered as far back in the corner as possible when he realized just who had entered the room.
'OhcrapohcrapohcrapitsDru' ran through his head several times before the feet made their way to stand in front of him. The pale feet arched up to tip toe straining and dark brown hair appeared as she bend her body over double. The tendons and muscles in her legs and feet moving in ways the human body couldn't possibly move. Maybe she had been a dancer at some point. He'd have to remember to ask Giles. 'If I live that long.' he thought as one dark eye peeked at him through the fall of her hair.
"There you are my dark kitten. It's very naughty of you to hide from me. I want to meet the one who's going to take care of my Spike when I'm gone. Maybe have a taste or two. I've been thinking of you since the naughty spell broke. Thinking of tasting you, of keeping you forever, but you're not mine now. Maybe I'll just take a drop or two. Would you like that my dark kitten? Just make sure Daddy doesn't find you, or he shan't take me away."
With true vampire speed Dru grabbed Xander and pulled him out from under the dresser. She stood upright and dangled a terrified Xander by his scruff, head tilting from side to side as she studied him.
"How bout it kitten, do you want forever? No I think that's still up to my Spike. Maybe if I ask her nicely Ms. Edith will let me have you. You look so tasty, kitten, and I wanna have just a drop or two. The stars won't mind too much if I change their song, just a little."
Xander's thoughts were echoing loudly through his own head, and were fairly simple and to the point: 'Oh God, oh God, She's gonna EAT me.'
She snapped her jaw at the kitten almost playfully before she started swaying her head back and forth. Xander found himself unable to look away.
The next thing Xander realized was falling through the air, and landing on his side. 'I knew that 'always land on their feet' stuff was crap.' As he got back to his feet and returned to his hiding place, he heard Spike coaxing Drusilla down onto the bed with soft words.
After he calmed down enough he realized Spike was explaining to his crackpot girlfriend why vampire kittens were a bad idea. He huddled as far back into the corner as he could, and spent the next two hours praying she listened to Spike.
After distracting Dru, who went off to hunt, Spike rounded up a couple minions and send them out on a food run. It wasn't until they'd returned that he'd realized they must have been a pair of Dru's minions, cause like his lady love, they were utterly barmy at times.
He'd asked for milk and fish.
They'd brought back a chocolate milkshake and sushi.
Spike contemplated the value of good minions, the helplessness of his current situation and then finally the food. He decided what they'd brought was close enough and set about putting some down for the wee whelp.
He filled a couple bowls, then put the leftovers in the small fridge he kept his beer in, pulling out a beer for himself. Wheeling himself over to the dresser that had become the kitten's safe haven, he leaned as far out of the chair as he could and settled the two bowls on the floor. That done, he wheeled to the bed and struggled to get settled on it. By the time he was situated against the headboard, the kitten had come out to 'examine' his dinner.
"Go on and eat, luv. Except for being a bloody stupid dinner for a cat, there ain't nothing wrong with it."
The kitten gave him a look that so obviously said 'Yeah right' that he had to laugh before continuing. "What's a matter, you don't like chocolate?"
The 'Yeah right' had become 'Are you stupid' and finally the cat lapped up some of the very melty milkshake. After a moment it went on to very delicately eat several bits of sushi, before returning to the milkshake.
Spike cracked open his beer and settled in to watch the cat eat, trying to decide if this was normal cat behavior. After the cat had finished all the milkshake and most of the sushi, he licked his lips and with a wary eye on Spike and slipped back under his dresser.
Warnings: This chapter contains non-consensual sex and bloodshed.
Xander woke up disoriented in the near dark, and the sounds of fighting were the only familiar thing, until he recognized the voices and realized it wasn't his parents fighting for the last beer.
"Come on Will, my boy, time to take you're medicine." Angelus practically cooed in the ear of the smaller man who was struggling underneath him.
"Piss off." He hissed, voice tinged with desperation.
"Now now, my boy, I think you need to show some proper respect. After all, I did see to you're duties tonight. Wore our Dru right out, I did. Course that's probably cause she hasn't had a proper seeing to since the last time I had her." The larger vamp leered at Spike, before licking his neck. "Maybe if you're a good boy I'll let you taste her on me. Would you like that my sweet William? To taste how I satisfy her, to taste how I make her bleed?"
Spike struggled to buck him off, but Angelus's weight and his own injuries made it impossible. A harsh back hand knocked him against the wall, stunning him for a moment. More than enough time for Angelus to pull his pants down and drag him over the edge of the bed, his injured legs dangling uselessly as he was re pinned beneath his insane grandsire.
"I'll take that as a no." He said with a sneer before ramming into Spike hard and dry. After a thrust or two the spilling blood of his now injured insides began acting as a poor, but at least somewhat helpful, lubricant. Angelus began a harsh ride that left the unbreathing creature's both panting, one in excitement, the other in pain.
Xander watched, helpless to look away. His previous anger and rage at Angelus had been a match light compared to the bonfire of hate that burned within him now. Never since Jesse had he felt anything but loathing and hate for a vampire, and now he prayed to Gods he was no longer sure he believed in for the ability to help this one.
Yes it was Spike, and yes he was a murderous bastard who'd tried to kill them, but that only earned him a stake to the heart. Something quick and painless. This was neither. This vampire, this man, had been kind to him. Yeah that probably meant he was keeping his furry ass around as the vamp version of a pudding pack, but still. He lost track of how long it went on. Hours, days, years? Angelus may know, but Xander certainly didn't, and neither did Spike.
He lay beneath his grandsire, silent. Unwilling to give in to tears or begging, already knowing either would only prolong the vicious attack, and certainly make the bastard enjoy it more. Angelus planted his feet firmly and began thrusting harder than ever. After several of the harsh deep thrusts Angelus threaded his fingers through his victim's hair, then made a tight fist and pulled his neck back roughly. He held him like that, bent painfully backwards, for several more moments, then slipped into his true face and buried his fangs in, deeply drinking as he came in his grandchilde's bloody, and, thanks to vampire healing, always virgin hole with a satisfied groan. He drained the younger vamp almost to the point of passing out, but not quite giving him the satisfaction of oblivion.
He pulled out, cleaned himself on the remains of Spike's clothes, and then smacked Spike's battered ass, before tucking himself away, and leaving with a satisfied smirk on his face. Before closing the door he turned to enjoy his handy work one last time.
His Will hung off the side of the bed, useless legs unable to hold him up. Blood dripped from his well ridden ass and his throat. His clothes were a bloody, cum stained mess. No tears though, unfortunately. 'Oh well, there's always next time.' He thought as he shut the door. Before retiring for the night, he left order's with the minion's that 'Master Spike' was not to be disturbed, even for a feeding, until Angelus gave word. Satisfied, he left for his own rooms, where a deliciously shackled Dru awaited her daddy's attention.
Xander waited, listening for Angelus to return; praying he didn't. Finally he gathered his courage and crept out from under the dresser. Having a day or two to get used to his feline body slightly, Xander was now able to handle small jumps.
He jumped up onto a small stack of old books beside the bed, then onto the bed. Spike lay unmoving, his eye's open, his neck no longer bleeding, but not healing either. Not really having a plan, nor realizing just how dangerous it could be, the small feline padded his way over to the still small vampire and laid one paw atop his outstretched hand, trying in some small way to offer comfort.
With inhuman speed the small animal was pulled towards his mouth, and Xander had enough time to curse his own stupidity before William the Bloody, one fourth of the 'Scourge of Europe', and Master Vampire Spike of the Aurelian Line pressed his face in Xander's small furry side and began to cry silently.
Xander lay stunned, held in place by the crying vampire who absently stroked his head with one hand while his tears soaked the fur along Xander's side. Vampire or no, his own soul would allow him to do no less than offer whatever comforts he could to the suffering creature, and for the first time, he began purring.
When the vampire's sobs abated some, his slender fingers began scratching and petting along Xander's neck. Xander stretched and twisted against the fingers, enjoying the contact. The weakened vampire's pettings became slower and slower as the blood loss finally claimed him, but as he slipped from consciousness one last drowsy scratch triggered the latch of the collar and allowed it to fall Xander's neck. Spike passed out a moment before a dizzy Xander found himself human again, and cuddled under a practically grey vampire.
He took stock of his surroundings, noting only subconsciously the general lack of an escape route that didn't take him right past that bastard Angelus. Instead of 'making a run for it' anyway, Xander thumbed the woefully pathetic lock on the bedroom door, and slipped into the small attached bathroom. He filled a bowl with warm water then grabbed a washcloth, soap, and a large towel.
Returning to the bed, he pulled the remaining clothes off of his undead patient, and gently, and quite self-consciously, cleaned his body. That done he dried him off, then examined the still gaping neck wound. Angelus hadn't bothered licking it closed, and Spike's dangerously low levels of blood weren't enough to trigger any sort of healing. There hadn't been any sort of first aid supplies in the room, so Xander simply cleaned the bite and then moved on to wash the tear stained face above it.
He returned the items to the small bathroom, and then looked through the dresser finding mostly jeans and t-shirts, but stuffed back in one corner, he found an old button up shirt he thought he could get the vamp into without too much difficulty. Grabbing it, he dressed the vampire and got him up into the bed right.
The grey coloring was even more apparent now that he was clean, and Xander looked around the room worriedly. A small switchblade on the dresser caught his eye. While one part of his mind called him six kinds of a fool, another part simply processed what was needed and sterilized the knife with some of the booze supply stashed around the room before settling himself on the bed and slicing into the fleshy part of his arm.
He let the blood drip into Spike's mouth, while the other part of his mind kept up the 'what the hell are we doing' shtick. After a few moments of the blood dripping down his throat, Spike roused enough to latch on to the offered arm, teeth sinking into warm flesh with a moment of pain. After the initial bite, Xander felt only warmth and a sense of giving. He let the vampire feed unhindered for a few moments, then pried the still weak and only half conscious demon off his arm. As the vampire was pulled away, his tongue slipped out to lick over the bite, stopping it from bleeding even as he tumbled back down into the safe depths of unconsciousness.
Xander pulled back, exhausted beyond the point where panic could reach him, he only wanted to curl up and go to sleep. He very nearly went with the urge, but something was digging into his back, and he sleepily pulled it out. It was the collar. Jerking back to a semblance of awake, he examined the piece and bit one end of the latch to bend it slightly. Hopefully that would allow his cat self to 'paw' off the collar if he needed to.
He hated the idea of becoming a cat again, but Drusilla's madness aside, he was probably much safer as a cat while in proximity to Angelus, than as the Slayer's Xander-shaped friend. After pulling the covers up to Spike's chest he slipped on the collar and waited for the transformation to take place, wondering for the first time if it would still work, or if the 'spell' had been a one time deal. Before the thought had completely worked itself through his mind, he was furry again.
He would have loved to stay on the warm fluffy bed to nap, but figured a hungry vampire, not to mention his crazy singing girlfriend or Deadboy, who now by the way creeped him out on a whole new 'GAAAH!' level, would be bad things to wake up to. Instead, he yawned, purred at his patient, then tumbled off the bed and back to the far corner of the dresser, where he curled up and dropped into a fitful sleep.
Spike woke up feeling better than he had in a long time, but something about feeling so good bothered him. Then he remembered the events of the previous night. As he did his hand snaked up to touch his neck, expecting a gaping wound or at least an ugly scabbed mess. Instead he felt unbroken skin, no sign of the damage that had been inflicted. Something wasn't right.
He'd suffered under Angelus's tender mercies countless times before, and had never woken up the next day feeling this good. Besides that, he had a very clear memory of hearing Angelus order the minions to leave him alone, well aware that he'd be in no shape to help himself. Considering the damage done to him, he should still be unconscious, or be coating the bed in a dusty sort of way.
If he couldn't still smell blood and cum in the room somewhere, he'd have thought the whole thing one vastly horrific nightmare. He moved to get up, to find what still had his bastard of a sire's cum on it, and burn it, when he realized what he was wearing. An old button up dress shirt, certainly nothing the big bad would dress himself in. He smelled a mystery afoot.
He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and was nearly delighted to realize that as long as he held onto something, he could move around the room without the bloody wheelchair. He tracked down the foul smell of his own blood and humiliation, finding it in a bundle next to the door. The 'still locked from the inside' door.
Still curious, he picked up the offensive clothes and holding them well away from his body with one hand, he used the other to help steady himself on the way to the bathroom. He grabbed a small bottle of lighter fluid from the dresser. Once he got to the bathroom, he pulled his lighter out of the ruined jean's pocket, squirted down the offending items, and then proceeded to set the clothes ablaze in the deep marble tub. Leaning on the sink, he watched them burn. Satisfied he made his way back to the bedroom, eyes checking any possible hiding places before settling back in the bed with a beer and trying to remember the end of the night before, while forgetting the horrid events prior.
Just as he went to take a taste of the beer, he realized there was already a rather tantalizing taste in his mouth, one that explained at least something of the mystery, if it opened up an entirely new line of questions. He was tasting human blood in his mouth. Powerful human blood. The shocking thing was the reason for it's power. It had been freely given.
There were many different nuances and types of human blood, and yeah vampire here, all of them tasted good, but some, oh yes some were oh so much more than good. Blood filled with adrenalin and fear was always a tasty eat. Better still was blood filled with endorphins and lust. The most potent, the best, the purest, was blood given freely, given in love or the hope of healing. That's what he was tasting. Something far more powerful than the pitiful rations he'd had since Angelus' return.
Try as he might, all he could remember from the night before was crying on the kitten and a brief glimpse of warm brown eyes. Familiar brown eyes.
Things began tumbling into place, and he looked around the room, planning his strategy. He cleaned the two bowls he'd used yesterday, then retrieved the leftover milkshake and sushi from the small refrigerator beside his bed. That done he settled into the bed and called for the kitten.
Xander had slept through Spike's waking, still weak from the blood loss of the previous night, but woke up to Spike calling for him.
"Here ya go, Whelp. Got some dinner 'ere for ya. Come on up 'ere kitty. Time to eat."
Xander peaked around the room cautiously before moving over to the bed and ascending the same way he had the night before, a jump to the stack of books, then a jump to the mattress.
Instead of putting down the food, Spike picked up the kitten and settled it on his chest. He scratched behind one ear lightly while he studied the collar intently. Once the cat relaxed enough to start purring, Spike slipped his hand down and unlatched the collar, setting it to one side, in the moment before he found himself underneath one shocked and suddenly terrified Scooby.