Story: Poetry Lessons IV : Appeasing the Demon
Summary: Spike needs to mark his territory – Part I
Rating: R for language mainly – smut is next chapter! death
Disclaimer: The boys do belong to me, but only in a 'I'm obviously delusional and need some psychiatric help' kinda way!
Feedback: would be lovely – this is to make up for the mean fic I posted earlier!
Poetry Lesson IV : Facing the Sun
“Spike, about how we've been treating you.....”
“Don't say it Slayer – let's just let bygones be bygones, yeah?” Uncomfortable at the idea of being part of some Scooby Group Hug, Spike stepped back from the girl. Xander grinned, fully aware of Spike's aversion to warm and fuzzies (unless they involved warm bodies, fuzzy minds and lots of sweaty sex).
“Why the devil didn't Wesley and the rest let us know what they were planning? Did they have no idea how dangerous it would be?!” Giles was striding angrily around the Magic Box, glasses in hand, flailing around as he gestured wildly.
“I don't rightly care what they were planning. All I know is there's no way that Broody McForehead is gonna get a chance to come anywhere near my Boy again. Ain't going through that again – no way, no how!”
“Yes, well, as you say Spike, regardless of their plans we need to ensure that everyone here is kept safe as long as Angelus is loose. And Xander had quite the close call this evening – we don't want a reoccurrence of that, for anyone”.
“Ooh, ooh, we could help re-soul him...”
“Willow, I would think after the far-reaching effects of your last foray into magic” looking askance at Spike and Xander, “you would think twice about throwing yourself back into such things. It is only good fortune that meant your Anti-Demon-Magnet didn't cause more damage”.
“But Giles, how was I to know that making Xander anti other demons would seal him to Spike's demon? There was no way I could have foreseen....” she protested.
“And that is exactly why you shouldn't have done the spell. If you cannot foresee the consequences, you shouldn't be casting the spell. Enough now, Willow. Wesley said they are ready to re-ensoul Angelus and they don't actually require our assistance. I think we should all consider ourselves very fortunate that things did not go far worse.....”
On that note, they decided that it was time to shut up shop and go home. Despite the wards on the Magic Box, they would all feel much safer in their own homes, especially after reinforcing the de-invite spells that had been placed on each residence.
By the time Xander and Spike made it back to the apartment, Xander was flagging badly. Blood loss, combined with adrenaline spikes and he wasn't sure he could drag himself up the stairs to his landing, coming to a halt when he reached their front door. The pretty little box lay crumpled on it's side, ribbon flowing like a small river beneath the letter that Angelus had written. There were blood stains seeping through the outside of the box and forming small congealing puddles on the floor.
Spike froze as he came up behind Xander.
“No. Don't want to talk about it, Pet. Just want to get inside the flat and get inside you. All the rest of this can wait”. Deliberately stamping on the box, Spike pushed his key into the lock and opened the door. He didn't even remember closing it behind himself when he had left earlier – mind you, he couldn't remember how he made it to the Magic Box in one piece!
“i just don't understand how you thought it was mine – surely you could smell....”
“Look, was hardly in the right frame of mind to be trying to sift through smells. I thought I had your fucking heart in my hand – forgive me if I wasn't thinking straight!” His back ramrod straight, Spike stalked over to the window and scowled out at what was left of the night. And to think he had thought about facing the sun – over a fucking pig heart....
“Hey, Spike, I wasn't – look, I'm sorry. It's just been bizarro night and I think we both need some rest”.
“Can't sleep yet Boy. Got summat I gotta do first”. Turning towards Xander, Spike expression made him freeze in the act of stripping off his shoes.
“And what might that be Bleachboy?! Cos I gotta tell ya I am shattered. The argument earlier, walking into Angelus - “ At the blaze of yellow that stripped away the blue, Xander realised he might well have said the wrong thing.
“Yeah, I can smell him on ya. And that's not right – not gonna stand for that. Can't put up with that”. Shaking his head, Spike began moving towards Xander. Or rather, he began to slink towards Xander, his body fluid in a predatory fashion, golden eyes gleaming.
“Spike....” Unconsciously, Xander began backing away, coming to a stop as his back hit the front door.
“You're mine, Pet. Demon here, yeah? Not gonna have someone else's scent all over what belongs to me. Doesn't matter if you wanted it or not – it's there and I need to get rid of it, one way or another”.
“Errr, one way or another??”
“Oh yeah, Pet. There's more than one way to get rid of the stink of another demon. Could skin ya alive. But then I like your skin. I like how warm and brown and alive your skin is......”
Gulping, Xander was mesmerised as his lover moved towards him. The prey instinct, the instinct to stay still in the hope that he would go unnoticed was upon, and he could do nothing but stare, his heart thumping at his lover's words.
“And I'm voting a big no on skinning the Xanman alive – my skin fits me so well the way it is, seems a waste to ruin such a good fit.....” he babbled.
“Of course, there's other ways Pet. Ways that would have you writhing and screaming the rest of the night, and most of tomorrow”. Tongue tucked firmly behind his teeth, Spike began to strip off his clothes – duster hitting the floor, swiftly followed by his black teeshirt. His hands went to his waistband, thumbs tucked beneath it, long fingers framing his bulging crotch.
“And me being turned on by that is a sign that maybe I was dropped on my head as a child...”
“Yeah, Pet, gonna mark you with my scent inside and out. And then – then, I'm going after Peaches' fat arse for even daring to come near what's mine......”