salustra (salustra) wrote in darlarevamped,

Sanguine Revival 9/? (No pairings this chapter, Adults Only)

AUTHORS: Salustra and Cathelin
E-MAILS: Salustra: ; Cathelin: .
TITLE: Sanguine Revival 9/?
RATING: FRAO, Adults only,
PAIRING: This Chapter- None.
SUMMARY: This chapter:- Spike returns to Sunnydale. Angel received an interesting envelope.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- ;
Our livejournals - and; and the website Weird Romances- .
SPOILERS: Through Season 5 BtVS: Fool For Love, and Season 2 Ats: Darla.
WARNINGS: None really, bit of violence and mild sex.
DISCLAIMER: We adore playing with the pretties, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us!
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 6,576 words

Small worksafe manip beneath the cut.

Spike squares his shoulders, steeling himself for the horror of dealing with the Slayer and her little pups, and having to act all fangless and neutered again. He takes a long slug from a hipflask, and then walks into the Bronze, looking around to see where they are.

It isn't hard to spot the Slayer. She's sitting alone at a table in one corner of the room, the waves of irritation and anger coming off her affecting even the humans present, so that they give her a wide berth.

Spike chuckles inside and eases his way over near her, sliding into the chair across from her. "Whatsamatter, pet? Someone criticize your fashion sense?"

"Spike." Buffy nearly spits his name. "Where the *hell* have you been?"

"What the bloody hell do *you* care, Slayer?"

"I don't." Huffing, Buffy crosses her arms beneath her breasts. "I just don't enjoy having a whole day of Dawn whingeing about you not being in your crypt." Narrowing her eyes she repeats. "Where the hell were you?"

"Go shag yourself, Slayer. None of your business."

Curling her lip, she strikes out towards his nose. Stopping herself just in time, she re-crosses her arms and looks around her to make sure nobody notices. "I don't need to. Unlike you I have someone to 'shag'" She sneers nastily instead.

"Ah, you mean the fabulous Captain Cardboard. Rather stick with Rosy Palm and her sisters, frankly."

Paling and then flushing angrily, the slayer makes another aborted lunge. "Stop calling him that!"

"Or what? You'll beat me up? What makes that different from any other bloody day then?"

"I'll... I’ll..." She flounders for a moment before gleefully pouncing on an idea, " I'll phone Angel and tell him a lovely little story about the yappy little vampire who's bark is so much worse than his bite coz he can't even bite anymore!" She smirks triumphantly at him.

"Oh, *please* do." Spike chuckles. "Like my bloody Sire even cares what I do or don't do. Wonder how long Captain Cardboard would last if Angel could get a happy without losing his soul, eh?"

Jumping off her stool, Buffy crowds close, grabbing hold of his T-shirt and hissing into his face. "Shut up!" Knowing full well that she'd dump her boyfriend at the merest hint of being able to be with Angel just serves to piss her off even more. Spike just chuckles evilly, not resisting as she manhandles him, knowing that she's drawn the stares of half the Bronze with her little outburst.

Letting him go with a frustrated little growl, Buffy glares at him. "You know, wherever it was you disappeared to, you should have stayed there. But no, you had to come back to sniff around me, even though you haven't a hope in hell of getting me."

"Yeah, that's me, the hopeless vamp. I'm only back because I'm low on money and I know sooner or later you'll need something." Spike puts up a good act, pretending to be hurt by her last comment.

Sneering arrogantly, Buffy picks up her jacket. "The only thing anyone would need you for is cannon fodder. It's all you're good for." With that she turns her back and storms away.

Spike lets himself slump in the seat, acting a bit for the benefit of anyone looking, and then he gathers himself and heads back out into the night. Well, *she* was fooled. Time to pay a visit to her house, check on Joyce and the Niblet.


The air at the Slayer's house is one of quite study as they looked for information on the latest 'big bad'. Surprising how much work they managed to do *without* the presence of the Slayer herself. Slapping himself mentally, her watcher berates himself for thinking such things about his charge...again.

Standing up from his seat at the dining room table, Giles takes off his glasses to clean them on the bottom of his jumper. "Have you managed to find anything Willow? On that...contraption." His eyes twinkle a little on the last word, knowing how much the children love the idea of his technophobia.

Willow looks up. "Not really. Unfortunately information on this whole 'Hellgod' thing is kinda sketchy. It would really help if we could get access to the Council's records. However, there have been a whole lot more mentally ill people showing up at the hospital, all with the same symptoms."

"Hmm." Still cleaning his glasses, Giles stares off into the distance.

"W...what are the symptoms in this case?" Tara asks quietly, looking up from her book.

"You mean there's different symptoms of crazy?" Xander asks with a dopey grin, surreptitiously wiping a little bit of drool from the side of his mouth.

"People seeing things that aren't there, random disassociated talk." Willow sighs. "But we just have no idea how to fight Glory. I mean, she knocked Buffy around like a ragdoll."

Nodding unhappily, Tara lowers her face back to the large tome in front of her. Xander, on the other hand, is distracted by Anya coming into the room with a large plate of Mrs. Summers' hazelnut cookies.

Placing the cookies in the only bookless part of the table, and incidentally far away from Xander, Anya takes her seat beside him. "It must have been rather perplexing for her. Buffy's so used to being stronger than those she's fighting."

"Indeed." Giles replaces his glasses on his nose and retakes his seat.

Joyce and Dawn come in, bringing mugs of tea and coffee for the weary Scoobies. Joyce smiles at everyone. "Can I get anyone anything else?" She's trying to keep things as normal as possible, still a little unnerved by finding out about Dawn.

"Ah, thank you Joyce." Giles smiles up at her as she sets a cup of tea in front of him, he takes a quick sip. "Wonderful as always. And no doubt the biscuits are too." Joyce smiles at Giles with a little extra warmth. There had always been a little something extra there, even though they both knew it could never come to anything.

Spike comes up outside, knocking at the front door. "Dawn, get the door, sweetie," Joyce says.

Dawn goes to the front door, opening it, jumping up and nearly toppling the blond vampire with a tackling hug. "SPIKE! YOU'RE BACK!"

Picking up a book, Anya smirks at the mournful looks that Xander is giving the plate of cookies. Hearing Dawn's shriek, she puts the book down and leans back in her chair instead.

Looking up from her own book, Tara meets Willow's eyes and gives her a small smile of relief.

Spike chuckles and hugs Dawn in return. "Yeah, Niblet, I'm back. Wouldn't leave my best girl, now would I?" She half-drags him in the door, and Joyce nods in his direction. "I'll get your cocoa," she says, heading for the kitchen.

"Hey Spike." Anya says brightly.

"Hey," he responds, draping himself on a couch, Dawn settling in close to him. Xander snorts. "It was so peaceful for a couple of days there," He mutters softly. Willow gives him a sharp look, which he ignores.

Turning to glare at him, Anya slaps Xander on the arm. "Be nice."

"What? I *am* nice. Somebody tell *him* to be nice. I heard what he pulled before he disappeared, Buffy told me."

"Children." Giles chides gently, not lifting his head from his book and his tea. "Speaking of your disappearance Spike. It wasn't the result of an... altercation...with another demon that we need to know about?" He flicks a glance in the vampire’s direction as he asks his question.

"No, nothing like that." Spike sighs. "Just need to get away for a bit."

"Good good."

Tara picks up the plate of cookies and takes it over to the couch so that Dawn and Spike can take one. "We're still trying to find information on Glory." She explains quietly.

Spike looks up at Tara with a smile, taking a cooking from the plate. "Thanks, pet."

Smiling back, Tara returns to the table. Taking pity, and for the sake of a little peace, she moves a book and places the plate within Xander's reach. Xander quickly reaches over, grabbing a few cookies.

Eyeing him wearily Anya sighs a little and shakes her head. Maybe she should put him on a diet?

Joyce comes back in with the cocoa, leaning over to give it to Spike. He raises his head and scents, as he normally does, taking in the cocoa, but another smell hits him, hard. He reaches out and touches her hand. "Headaches... you've been having headaches lately?"

She looks a little startled. "Yes. A lot of them. Why?"

Hearing their words, and something in the tone of Spike's voice, Giles raises his head and turns to look curiously at Joyce and Spike. Spike's eyes go golden, and he leans in to scent more. "I can scent something on you. M'not a doctor but I've been around enough sick people over the years. Smells like cancer, pet."

Standing quickly, Giles comes over to stand beside them. "What?"

"Cancer. Something in the brain, or close, I'd imagine."

Joyce looks at him, startled. "Are you sure?"

"Sure as I can need to go have it checked." Spike is upset now, genuinely worried. He doesn't like the possibility of Joyce being really ill.

"Go have what checked?" Buffy asks as she comes through the front door, followed by Riley. "And what are you doing here?"

Dawn glares at Buffy. "He's here to see *me* and Mom. Since when do *you* care?"

Glaring at her sister, Buffy decides to ignore the issue; she turns to her mother instead. "You should go have what checked?"

"Spike seems to think I might have cancer."

Mouth dropping open, Buffy just stares, eyes flicking from her mother to the vampire on the sofa and back again.

The conversation has finally garnered the attention of those in the dining room, and the two couples find themselves gravitating towards each other, as they watch worriedly.

"And you believe him?" Riley sneers from behind his girlfriend.

Joyce looks up at Riley, a vaguely disapproving glare at his tone. She likes Riley well enough, but he should really know better than to be rude to Spike in front of her. "Yes. I do."

"But why? I mean, if it's true why didn't he say anything before?"

Spike growls. "Haven't been this close to scent her in a while. *Someone* hasn't wanted me around."

Giving him a filthy look, the former soldier turns and heads for the kitchen, muttering, "Why would anyone want you around?"

Joyce makes a little noise in her throat, then turns back to Spike. "You really think its cancer?"

Spike nods. "I do." Buffy finally comes out of her unresponsiveness with a quiet whimper.

Clutching tightly to Spike's duster, Dawn starts shaking her head. "No, no, no....No. Spike, you can't let anything happen to Mom."

Trying to soothe her Spike lifts a hand to stroke her hair. "I won't if I can help it, Niblet."

"It's a spell." The pronouncement from Buffy is sudden and loud. "Someone's trying to get at me by making my mother ill." Stubbornly, she just out her chin as she crosses her arms. "We'll just have to undo it."

Willow sighs and nods. "Well I can start checking out that possibility, Buffy, but she should still get checked out just in case, you know, it never hurts to get things checked out..." Tara nods as well, squeezing Willow's hand.

Reluctantly, Buffy agrees, lip trembling for a moment. It's obvious that she's refusing to cry in the belief that if she does, it would mean that it wasn't a spell after all.

Leaning against the wall, Anya chews her lip a little, debating over whether to say anything or keep her mouth shut. Xander looks over at Anya. He can tell that look. "What?" He whispers to her. Widening her eyes, Anya just shrugs a little, still not sure whether to say anything.

Spike takes Joyce's hand, squeezing it. "It'll be fine. You'll go to the docs; they'll figure it out. And if they can't help...We'll figure something out." John Whiteagle springs to Spike's mind even as he speaks.

"I'm sure you're right." Joyce nods, she's not so sure, but there's no sense alarming her girls anymore than she has to.

Nodding, Buffy takes charge. "Right. That's sorted. Willow and Tara will look for spells and the rest of us will keep looking for stuff on Glory."

Willow looks over at Tara. "We should probably go back to the room...get some spells started ourselves." Flushing a little, Tara murmurs her agreement and turns to collect her things together.

Distracted momentarily from her ponderings, Anya smirks and rolls her eyes. She can't understand why it is that everyone in the room doesn't know exactly what Willow really means. Spike knows, of course. But he doesn't betray his understanding, other than with a twinkle of his eyes.

Joyce tries to stand up again, swaying a little, her legs about to give out from under her. "Mom!" Buffy darts forward as she sways, taking hold of her arm. Spike moves at the same time to grab her shoulders.

Giving Spike a dark glare, Buffy tries to get her mother to sit back down. Joyce leans back against Spike. "I need to lay down." She puts a hand to her forehead. "My head is hurting again, all of a sudden."

"Dawn." Buffy nearly barks. "Help mom upstairs. I'll see everyone out.” Dawn comes over to help Joyce, and she sways again. Spike moves to help support her other side.

"Riley can you help?" Buffy turns to her boyfriend, using the movement to hide her actions as she wraps her hand around Spike's wrist and squeezes cruelly.

"Of course." Riley moves over to support Joyce's other side, shouldering Spike out the way. Spike growls softly. He'd love to pull out of her grasp but it would tip his hand. Joyce looks at Spike but lets herself be helped up the stairs.

Once Dawn and Joyce have disappeared up the stairs, Buffy turns to Spike and haughtily tells him, "You can go away now."

"Awright, Slayer. For now. Your mum and the bit are the only reason I came by anyway." Spike glares at her, before going to walk out the door.

"Spike! Wait!"

Spike turns around to look at Anya. "Yeah?"

"Can you come over to the shop tomorrow? I need your help with something."

Xander glares at Anya. Spike chuckles and nods. "Yeah, no problem, I'll be there."

Ignoring Xander's glare and walking over to the doorway, Anya bobs up onto tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Spike's cheek. "Thanks."

Spike turns to Anya, a bit surprised at the kiss. "No worries, luv." He shoots a wicked grin at Buffy before he struts out the door.

Finding both Xander and Buffy glaring at her now, Anya looks back at them innocently. "What?"


Wes was sitting in the lobby, reading a book. Things had been quiet since the disappearance of Darla. Cordelia was out shopping; Gunn was visiting his 'homies'.

A deliveryman comes in with a package. "Package for 'Liam O'Donnell'," he says.

Wes blinks at the name. "I'll sign for it, he's asleep right now." He signs and takes the package. After debating a few minutes, he heads upstairs to knock on Angel's door.

Roused by the quiet knock, Angel turns over with a sigh. Getting out of bed, he slips on his robe and walks over to open the door. He's taken to locking it, what with the experience with Darla getting into his room - not that he really minded, he just didn't like not knowing.

Wes looks at Angel in his robe, trying very hard not to notice his body, keeping his eyes on his face. "There's a package that came...addressed to your mortal name."

"Thanks, Wes." Angel says, leaning against the doorjamb. As it sinks in what Wesley mean, Angel frowns, reaching warily for the thin package. "Does it say who it's from?"

"No, no return address."

Carefully opening one end, Angel raises it to his face, taking a deep breath. His eyes widen as he takes in the mingled scent of Darla and Lindsey. Unable to keep back his reaction, he growls a little.

Wes furrows his brow. "Something the matter, Angel?"

"It's from Darla," Angel explains, "And Lindsey." Hissing a little on the latter’s name, Angel reaches inside the package.

Wes opens his eyes at that. "What would they be sending you? And why use your mortal name?"

"I don't know." Angel replies to both questions. Frowning again when he realizes that the only thing in the envelope style package is what feels like a piece of card. Curious now, he takes hold of one end and draws the contents out.
"What the...?"

Wes blinks at the photos. "Oh. My."

Snapping his head up, Angel snarls at Wesley, automatically trying to hide the picture of Darla dressed provocatively in a corset and stockings. Wesley looks away. "Sorry. I'll...leave you alone." He steps back to get out of the room.

"Shit, I'm sorry Wes..." Angel starts to apologize.

"No, it's obviously none of my business."

"It's's Darla..." Trying again to explain, Angel steps closer to the human, unaware that his eyes are flecked with amber. Wes looks up at his eyes with a little squeak he's quite unaware he is making. "Wes?"

Wesley is backed against the wall, and swallows. "Yes?"

" something wrong?"

"Y-your eyes."

"Huh?" Angel asks intelligently.

"They're going a bit yellow." Angel is currently standing so Wes would have to push him back to get out of the room, and Wes isn't sure he wants to try that at the moment.

"Huh? Oh!" Swiftly backing away, Angel starts to apologize again.

Wes slides towards the door. "I'll just go back downstairs, and see you later."

"Wes..." Angel starts as Wesley slips through the doorway, moving in his direction once more.

Wes stops. "Yes Angel?" His heart is pounding a bit, and he blushes a little as he realizes he's also somewhat aroused, to his shame.

"I'm sorry, it's just a sign of high emotions, you shouldn't..." Freezing as he's hit by a wave of pheromones from the watcher, Angel stutters to a stop. Swallowing reflexively, he coughs and then continues, "But of course, I'm sure you know that, I'll let you go and get back to your...research."

Wes nods, breathing a little hard. "Yes, research." He slides towards the door again.

Turning away from the door, Angel politely ignores Wesley's reactions, while trying to hide the fact that his fangs have started to drop. Wesley manages to get out of the room, closing the door, and resting against it for a moment panting.

Tossing the package and the photos that caused the current predicament, Angel groans silently and throws himself face first onto the bed.

Wes stays against the door for a while, unable to make his legs move. He *really* had no business at all thinking of Angel in that fashion, but he couldn't help it.

The other photo tumbles out. Lindsey. Standing nicely framed in the light. Looking closer, Angel can see the cock cage and the nipple clamps on his naked form. "Fuck." He hisses as he picks it up for a closer look. It looks like Darla is up to her usual games.

While the fact that Lindsey is obviously submitting to Darla in some way - the collar he's wearing in the picture a huge giveaway - mollifies his demon somewhat, the fact is that it must have been Lindsey that took the picture of Darla. In fact, the idea of the smug little bastard seeing Darla in any state of undress at all pisses him off.

That Darla has mastered Lindsey, when she's human makes Angel simultaneously proud and annoyed. His demon has been urging him to do something along those lines since he first met him; spending innumerable hours entertaining him with ideas of games he could play with the shorter man.

Sighing, Angel tosses the picture aside and valiantly tries to ignore his now raging hard on. Giving up after a few minutes, Angel reaches for the first picture.

God, Darla really was a gorgeous woman, and this style of picture suited her perfectly - erotic but teasing. The corset highlighting the shape of her body - pushing her full breasts up without revealing more than the uppermost curve.

The careful posing of her body in the picture proves that she's wearing only the corset and stockings, but the way her legs are twisted to the side means that the only part of her pelvis on show is the pale expanse of one hip.

Groaning slightly, Angel remembers some of the times when he saw Darla take up just such a pose in times past - and the things that followed after. Wes can hear the groan and he bites his lips not to moan himself. He slides his hand down over his bulging crotch and rubs slightly.

His groan turns to a growl at the thought of her doing those things with Lindsey and not him. Not wanting to continue with those kinds of thoughts, Angel forces his mind to ignore Lindsey's involvement, instead imagining that he'd taken the picture himself.

Leaning back against his pillows, Angel goes with that idea. He can just picture the way Darla would flutter her lashes at him, the coy little smile she'd give him, the breathy way she'd ask if he liked looking at her like this.

"Yesss." He hisses, half in pleasure at the idea, and half in reply to the Darla in his head.

Biting harder on his lip Wesley keeps rubbing against his hand, listening for more noises.

Pulling on the tie of his robe, Angel opens it, the material sliding away from his body. Sliding his hand down his stomach, he wraps his fist around his erection and starts to stroke slowly. "Yeah."

He pictures crawling closer to Darla across the mattress, sliding his hand up her stocking clad leg to take hold of her knee. Lifting her knee upwards and to the side, opening her legs so he can see between her thighs. "Fuck yeah."

Wesley makes a soft whimper in his throat, slowly unzipping his own trousers, wrapping fingers around his hard cock.

Angel's mind paints the picture vividly. He can remember the pale porcelain of her flesh, the way the muscles of her abdomen would shiver slightly when he smoothed his hand over the soft skin. The sight of pale blonde curls on her mound, and the way the delicate skin below would flush as she became aroused. Best of all was the memory of how her folds would grow damp beneath his gaze, her juices dripping slowly from her entrance.

Fuck, he could practically smell her. Tightening his hand, Angel starts to jerk his cock harder. "Oh god Darla!"

Wesley can hear him, can tell he's probably doing the same thing Wes is doing, and he keeps stroking. Wishing his could see Angel as well as hear him.

Dammit. Angel tries to tell himself he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be thinking of his former-sire. But he can't help it.

His prick throbbing in his hand, Angel imagines slowly leaning forward, nuzzling at the silky skin of her thighs, pressing heated kisses to each, inching his way nearer to his prize. His hold grows slick with the pre-cum dribbling from his slit as he starts to moan louder.

The moans are driving Wesley mad. He keeps stroking, listening, imagining he's in the room with him.

Swallowing roughly, Angel is sure he can taste Darla on his tongue as his mind supplies the images, the memory of running his tongue over her folds, pressing it inside her entrance.

"Darla, oh god, so good, so sweet." His voice is husky as he starts to speak between his moans. The movements of his hand on his cock are growing steadily faster and harder as he gives in totally to the fantasy.

Wesley forces himself to move away from the door, tucking away his cock before he can come. He knows Angel would smell it if he did.

Angel can feel his orgasm creeping so close as his hips start to thrust helplessly into his hand. "Darla.... sire." He groans.


Wesley freezes at the sound of the phone. It's Angel's personal line.

Angel growls as he reaches over to pick up the phone, still stroking his cock. "Yes?!"

A breathy voice purrs down the line. "Hello my darling."

Growling and moaning all at once, Angel snaps. "Darla? What the fuck are you doing calling me?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Darla asks sweetly. Her eyes are fixed on the TV screen in front of her as she continues without waiting for an answer. "I was just calling to ask if you've received my"

Angel growls again, tempted to slam the phone down. "Yes. Yes I have. What are you doing letting Lindsey see you like that?"

"See me like what?" She giggles. "Oh you mean in *one* of my new corsets?" The TV screen is large and expensive, and connected to a computer.

"In any state of undress like that."

"Well dear, it's kind of necessary for a slave to see his mistress undressed if he's going to put his mouth to good use. Wouldn't you say?" Darla says, quite matter-the-fact.

The computer is also expensive; it's also connected to a rather expensively installed local area network - one that has only been installed over the last twenty-four hours.

His hand tightens on the phone as he growls louder. "You've actually let his mouth touch you there?"

"Oh yes." Darla giggles again. "He's very good you know." She looks over her shoulder at where Lindsey is sitting in front of the computer, busy recording from one of the camera feeds on the network, and smirks at him.

Lindsey whimpers as he looks back at her. Angel can hear that as well. "He's there right now?"

"He is. He's been a good little pet today." Blowing Lindsey a kiss, Darla returns her attention to the TV screen. "I've already had him put that smart mouth of his to use three times since her got home from work an hour ago."

Darla is frankly amazed at the technological developments of the last few years. A good example is the wonderful quality of the image on the screen in front of her. The camera feed is so good - she can even see the bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip of Angel's cock.

Growling even as his hand moves faster on his cock, Angel can picture Lindsey kneeling in front of Darla, his mouth in her sweet pussy. "I'll kill the little fucker."

"No you won't dear." Darla replies glibly.

"And *why* not?"

"Because I want to see him suck your cock."

At that Angel goes straight over the edge, shouting as his balls draw up and streams of thick come shoot out of his massive cock.

Biting back a moan, Darla feels her pussy clench at the sight on the screen. "Oh my" She says instead, turning to Lindsey, "It seems Angel quite likes the idea of you sucking him Pet."

Angel pants, recovering, to snarl into the phone. "You wicked bitch," he growls. "I should've done what the Partners had you daring me to do. Should've killed you."

"Kill me? You wouldn't kill me my love." Darla laughs, "Turn me, but never kill me."
Angel snarls and hangs up the phone, knowing it's fruitless to keep talking to her.

At the dial tone echoing in her ear, Darla laughs harder.

Groaning with frustration, Angel grabs some tissues to clean up the bed and himself, looking at the photographs and putting them away with another groan. "Fucking bitch." He pants as he lays down on the bed, cock still hard and wanting, but he refuses to touch it again.

Leaning forward in her chair, Darla reaches out to caress the image of Angel, "Oh my darling boy. This is going to be so much fun."


Spike spends an uncomfortable night in the crypt. After sleeping in a proper bed again, with lovely company, its torture sleeping alone in a cold damp crypt. But he has to keep his front up, for a while at least.

Middle of the day, he wakes up, dresses, get his blanket, and heads off through the sewers to the Magick Box. He moves now, quickly, from the manhole the short distance to the front door and inside. He steps out of the daylight, a bit of smoke rising from him.

"Welcome to the Magic Box. How can we help?" A perky voice floats out from behind the counter where Anya is crouched down struggling to stuff the ledgers back in their draw.

"Hey there, demon girl." Spike grins as he struts towards the counter, and hops up to perch on the edge.

"Hi Spike." Anya smiles at him as she stands up, coming around the counter and reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "I didn't expect you here so early."

He purrs a little at the hug. "You said you wanted me to come by."

Stifling a giggle, she nods as she pulls away and walks over to sort through the pile of books left on the table from the last meeting at the shop. "I did."

"You did? Don't want me now then?" He chuckles, teasing her.

"Of course I want you." Anya replies, giving him a flirtatious smile over her shoulder. "Who wouldn't?"

He grins back at her, hopping off the counter to strut over. "Ah, I can think of one or two, maybe."

"Really? And who might those foolish people be?"

"Well the Slayer for one."

Laughing, Anya just shakes her head. "Yeah right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like she doesn't want you." Rolling her eyes, Anya picks up a couple of books to return to the shelves at the back of the room. "You can't tell me she doesn't have nasty little dreams about you and her having orgasms."

Spike chuckles. "Well she does a good job of hiding it." He follows along, a few steps behind. "What about you? Ever have any 'nasty little dreams'?"

"Oh I have plenty of nasty little dreams." Purposely stepping back into his body as she puts the last book away, Anya bumps her hips back against him. "But lucky me, I have a *very* accommodating boyfriend."

Spike chuckles and groans. "Lucky you, unlucky me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say you were unlucky." Turning around, Anya smirks up at him knowingly. "From how much more relaxed you are now you're back from wherever, I'd say that you've found someone rather accommodating yourself."

Spike waggles a finger at her. "Now, now, you're imagining things."

"Am I? Perhaps I am." With another smirk, she walks around him and back to the table. "Xander keeps telling me I'm imagining things too. Like when he bought me that present last month."

"What present was that?"

"Oh a just little something called 'Big Willie'." Anya's tone is innocent as she grabs another pile of books.

Spike chuckles and walked back over behind her, standing a few inches behind her as she bends over. "And *what* did he think you were imagining?"

"I might have made some comment about why he chose that one out of all the different ones in the shop. Whether the name had anything to do with it." Pushing up on tip toes, Anya reaches further across the table, her skirt riding up far enough for Spike to see the remains of a welt curving around the top of one tanned thigh.

Spike chuckles again, looking at the welt on her thigh. "So, who did 'Big Willie' get used on?"

"Well now...that'd be telling wouldn't it?" Anya giggles as she stands back up.

"Yes. That's why I *asked*."

Turning half to face him, she licks her bottom lip. "Who do you think it was used on?"

"If I had to place a bet? I'm thinking you used it on him."

"What makes you say that?" Turning the rest of the way to face him, Anya brings one hand up to play with a button on his shirt.

"Two things. First, I'm pretty sure if he wants anything going inside *you*, it would be *his* Willie. And secondly...he seems like the type to take it up the arse."

Laughing merrily, Anya smiles at him. "Well, you're half right."

"About which half?"

"The second of course." With that, she heads up the stairs to the upper level with an armful of books.

Spike grins and chuckles. He lets her get halfway up the stairs before bounding up after her. "You never did say what you wanted me here for."

"Oh nothing much." Anya shrugs, dropping down onto her knees to put away the books. "I was just curious about what you've been doing, or rather, who."

Spike grins, telling the truth...sort of. "These two humans I picked up in a bar, mostly."


"*Very*. The woman was a blonde, the man kind of blondish-brown. Blue-eyed, both of them. And *very* talented."

"Really." Anya drawls, looking up at him with amusement. "And what did you mean by 'mostly'?"

"Well there were a few other humans, at other bars...I had a bit of fun."

"It certainly sounds like you did. Is that why you didn't want to tell the others?"

"Yeah. For all *sorts* of reasons."

"Hmm, didn't want to have to give Dawn all the juicy details huh?" Grinning, Anya leans down and to the side, *towards* Spike.

Spike looks appreciatively down the nice shot she's giving him of her cleavage. "That, or say anything about my sex life in front of Ripper or Joyce...for completely *different* reasons. Not to mention the crap I'd've gotten from The Slayer."

"She'd just be jealous." Anya replies, holding out her hand to be helped up. "Hmm...I don't suppose you'd be willing to confirm something that Xander and I have been arguing about?"

"Give it a shot." He takes her hand and helps her up, pulling her in close before letting her go again, their bodies brushing briefly.

"Well, Xander thinks everything is just hunky-dory between Buffy and Riley, but I...I don't think he's satisfying her at all. She's been *far* too cranky lately." Anya giggles.

Spike snorts. "Could be because Captain Cardboard only marginally bats for her team."

"Really?" Anya perks up at such a lovely piece of gossip.

"Yeah, really. I spent a while down in the Initiative, you know. Riley and the boys like to amuse themselves with the 'hostiles'."

"Do they?" Anya's tone is flat and her eyes flash. After a moment, her face turns pale with horror, "They didn'"

"Yeah." Spike crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "Any wonder why I'm not all that fond of Soldier Boy?"

"No." Anya sighs, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. "No wonder."

He looks at her. "Never said anything because I din't think any of you would believe. Or care if you did."

"Of course we would." Anya looks up at him wide eyed. "I mean, maybe if Xander had some inkling..."

"Xander? He *hates* me. Probably cheer him on."

"Spike!" Giving him a disappointed glare Anya shakes her head. "You know he wouldn't. Especially not considering. Well, you know."

"No. Considering what?"

Anya frowns, "I thought you knew. What with the time you were living in the basement with him."

"Knew *what*?"

"About his dad." Her voice drops to a tearful whisper. "And I don't think it was just violence."

"Ah. No. I knew about the beatings. But I din't think he applied those standards to *me*."

"You know he's only so nasty to you because of what happened between Buffy and Angel don't you?" Anya asks. Running her fingers over the waistband of his jeans, she gives him a grin, "And to hide the fact that he thinks you're 'strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well-muscled'. "

Spike raises an eyebrow, even as he moans a little at the feel of her fingers so close. "I knew he had a stiffy most of the time we were in the basement, but he was 17, and he had you. I figured it was just teenage hormones."

*"Probably was *then*." Anya shrugs, "But those were his words, not mine."

"He *said* that?" Spike is genuinely surprised.

"Oh yes. In front of witnesses too."

"I *am* surprised." Spike blinks. Well, this puts a whole new complexion on their plans.

"I wasn't." Anya giggles.

Spike grins. "You are *full* of surprises, it seems. So, what now? You drag me off for a threesome?"

"Not yet." Anya smirks, pressing herself against his chest. "I don't think he's quite ready for it. I haven't even managed to talk him into asking Tara and Willow if we can watch, as yet."

Spike laughs and purrs, rubbing a hand down her back as she pressed into him. "Now *that* would be something I would pay to see."

"I'm sure you would." Pressing back into his hand, Anya wriggles against him.

Spike purrs a little louder. "Perhaps there something I can do for you up here?" He leans in closer, his lips almost touching hers.

"Oh? What would you suggest?" Anya breathes giving him a coy look.

"Hmmm. There's a little reading room, I know. Perhaps we could test the couch?"

"Now Spike," Anya says teasingly, as she slides her hands around his waist to play with the button and zipper, "You must remember that, human or not, I *am* still Anyanka." She rubs against him once more before moving away. "Though perhaps, if we were to work on Xander a little..."

Spike sighs. "Can't blame a bloke for trying."

"Of course not." Anya chuckles as she bounces down the stairs. "Now, weren't you going to give me some of those juicy details about your holiday?"

Spike follows her down, giving her a mock pout. "Don't know if I feel like it, now."

"Oh come on, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." Anya smirks walking around the counter and seating herself on the stool.

"What holiday did *you* take?"

"Well, none. But Xander and I certainly had fun last weekend."

"Well. *How* much detail were you wanting? I mean...would you want to know that I had the woman riding me while the man drove, cock out, having to watch?"

"Ooo really." Anya's eyes light up. "However did he manage not to crash?"

"He drove *very* slowly. And pulled over a time or two on the way."

"Did he come?"

"Yes. Rather spectacularly. And he had to lick it up."

"Bet he was nice and humiliated."

"He was. But he got ass-fucked till be passed out, so I think he had a good time."

"Nice." Anya sighs, eyes glazing a little. She might not know what this guy looked like, but she could easily see Xander in his place.

"So...details?" Spike grinned as Anya gave him some down and dirty details on herself and Xander.

The Magick Box eventually become quite busy and Spike slips out, heading back to the crypt.

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