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That damn Slayer , always mucking everything up. She was either the luckiest person alive, or God forbid he should even say it, the most brilliant. It was about time someone knocked that Bitch on her ass, made her see that the world wasn't the safe little happy place she saw through her Slayer colored glasses. < And you're just the man to do it. >
"Yeah, cause the big bad is back, and this time."
*ZAP*
A white flash of electricity illuminated the night sky, claiming the blonde vampire as it's next victim. His body swayed momentarily, then crashed to the ground as excited calls echoed through the air.
Spike found himself knocked on his ass, unable to move a muscle as the current circulated through his body and he twitched uncontrollably.
< What the fuck? I'll rip every one of you to pieces until there's nothing left but a river of blood. >
When he attempted to get up again, he could only manage to stare helplessly into the heavens as a million stars winked at his predicament. .
***********************************
"I'm naming all the stars."
"You can't see the stars luv, that's the ceiling. Also, it's day."
"I can see them.. But I've named them all the same name, and there's terrible confusion.."
***********************************
< Yeah baby, maybe you could have named one of those stars Look Out, or-Big Fucking Lightening Bolt Behind you. >
He could feel his anger building, but nothing physical was working. His body would not obey his brain's instructions no matter how much he concentrated. Someone was going to pay for this, he just didn't know who that was yet.
Spike felt the first knot of apprehension in his stomach when he realized that masked figures had encircled him, blocking out all the stars Dru had bothered to christen.
< You've waded deep into it this time. You have no idea who you're dealing with. >
Three masked forms dressed in camouflage roughly hoisted Spike off of the ground, dangling him precariously between them. They made no pretense of care as they began walking back into the foliage where a truck was concealed. They dropped him partially at one point and just continued to drag him, oblivious to the rocks and debris that he slammed into.
< Okay, William The Bloody does not get dragged along the ground like a goddam sack of potatoes. Or a freaking corpse. Although technically, you are one. Still, You don't get treated like one! >
"On three. "
Spike flew through the air and landed with an unceremonious thump in the back of a dark green, covered truck.
< The Army? The freakin Army? >
He could see an arm, only because he was lying face down on top of it. That wasn't the worst of the situation though. Sprawled on the floor of the truck, he had an intimate introduction to the aroma of whatever disgusting cargo they'd hauled for the last six months or so, and it wasn't pleasant. The roar of the engine alerted him that this adventure was far from over.
He lost track of time, but surely it wasn't long when the vehicle idled to a halt. He could hear the crunch of boots on gravel and the squeak of metal, a door, a gate? Footsteps again, and the slam of the truck door as they moved forward again. Within minutes, the motor choked to a stop. Hands reached in, two grabbed a fistful of his jacket, one grabbed a pant leg and they pulled him out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"...we want to discover why the behavioral response is elicited in the first place and what current variables actively reinforce it."
The words came from somewhere outside of his head. They were foreign, they had no meaning. Yes, they were in English, but behavioral response? Current variables? Nothing made sense. He stirred, opening his eyes.
Blinding overhead lights. < Shit! Ok, that was a mistake. >
Was that the smell of something burning? < Let's try this again. >
He opened an eye gingerly, cautiously.
< What the hell is going on, where am I? >
Half hidden memories fluttered back to him: lights, heat, something being forced up his nose. Some big metal thing had been shoved up his nose. A terrible burning sensation had remained when it withdrew, bringing tears to his eyes. All of these previously sleeping images came rushing to him all at once.
Now at least his head didn't feel like it had been freeze-dried and left out in the desert sun. No, now his head was just demanding that he wake up, and hurry, because something was all fucked up.
He could turn his head. < Bonus. >
He tried his arms and legs, nothing. Why not?
He looked down noticed the four point leather restraints, and the fact that he was naked from the waist up.
< Hmn, bondage fun? Not exactly the picture of the Army I've always carried in my mind. >
He finally appraised his surroundings fully and noticed an older blonde woman wearing a white lab coat. Speaking over him, she pointed occasionally with her ballpoint pen when she wanted to emphasize a point.
"...an event that increases the probability that the response will recur-a reward for behavior if you will."
< Huh? What was this bint talking about? >
". which decreases the probability of recurrence because it penalizes the behavior."
A forearm came into view, it had a small puncture wound that was just beginning to seep blood.
< Breakfast in bed. Excellent. > His face transformed as he prepared to feed with relish.
Zap.
There was that familiar blinding flash and pain that rocked his body, sending him arching against the restraints holding his wrists and ankles secure.
"So, this one isn't operational?"
"Well, this subject has shown some . . . resistance. Come with me and I'll show you something I'm very excited about."
Spike could hear footsteps moving away. A hand grabbed his crotch and squeezed brutally.
"Positive punishment. God I love science."
Spike's throat constricted with a startled scream that lay frozen, locked in vocal chords that were uncooperative at the moment.
"Agent Gates, we're waiting," the woman's voice faded as she moved farther away.
"Yes ma'am, coming"
Spike cringed as he watched a hand stab a scalpel into his bicep and yank it back out again.
"See ya 17."
< Ok, everyone was completely and totally fucking insane. >
"Knock it off Forrest."
"What's the matter Riley, worried I'll hurt your girlfriend?"
"Very funny. It's strapped down, it's completely helpless."
A laugh. "Tell that to the last person it sucked dry."
"Still . . ."
"You know what your problem is Ri?"
"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me. "
"You're soft. "
"What does that make you?"
That mocking voice, full of amusement answered, "A soldier, a demon hunter. I'm a God damn good Samaritan baby."
"Professor Walsh will be mad if you disobey her orders."
"Well, then we'll just have to make sure she doesn't find out, won't we?"
The wall shuddered with the force of Forrest's fist slamming into it. A clipboard hanging from a hook rattled crazily for ten seconds then slipped from its position to land with a clatter to the floor, not that Forrest noticed, he was too busy resuming his pacing. He hated waiting, but an order was an order. Of course, nobody said he couldn't help the creature wake up faster.
All he'd wanted was to interrogate the prisoner, and if a little harmless fun was had, well so be it. Everyone knew that HST's were animals anyway; killers, they deserved whatever they got. No, concern for this little puke didn't even register a blip on the radar. Besides, this one had made him look like a fool and caused him to incur Dr. Walsh's wrath, be assured it was gonna feel some pain.
Graham and Jay exchanged looks, but stayed in their positions, arms crossed over chests as they leaned against the wall on the other side of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Oh my head,' was the first coherent thought that kicked his grey matter, followed by, 'are those army bloods on the tear again, and- is it possible for a vampire to get brain damage?' He opened his eyes slowly and slammed them shut again in protest as a horrendously intense light reflected from stark white walls assaulted his already abused brain.
They'd handcuffed him and left him sitting in a chair, not very original. "Ah Shit," Spike groaned out loud. "Why don't you wankers turn off the lights and let a fella get some rest."
"Enjoying your stay 17?" Forrest sneered, getting ready to hit the vampire. Nearly all it's previous bruises and marks had already healed-amazing powers of regeneration these vampires had, just amazing. He let his fist fly and smiled in satisfaction at the crack of bone breaking?
Spike's head snapped back from the force of the blow and he spit a thin stream of blood and saliva from an already swelling lip. It landed with a weak splat against his naked chest and left a little string connected to his abused mouth. Not bad for a human. Of course, Angelus used to give good night kisses that were worse than that. These lads had a lot of work to do if they wanted to live up to that bastard's reputation; somehow, he was sure they'd at least give it a hell of a try.
"The accommodations are a little sparse, but I've been sleeping in a crypt lately, so." He shrugged. " Maybe you could read me a bedtime story, just like mom used to." Spike looked down at his naked torso and the blood dripping down it. Smiling wryly, he raised his eyes to the large black soldier who'd struck him and added with innuendo, "Although, I'm a little afraid of the first chapter. What have you pervies been up to while I've been out?"
"Oh, I'm just getting started," Forrest purred, leaning in." I'm writing the ending now. The big black man ripped off the smart ass vampire's head, and he went poof." Forrest punctuated his last word by waving his hands in the blonde creatures direction.
Spike rolled his head back and closed his eyes. This one could probably do it too. He had a punch like a brick shit house and obviously had it in for the undead population of Sunnydale. The dead were so misunderstood.
"So, you've come around for another session of fun with Spike have ya?" He jeered, half praying that the bloke would finish the job, because the lights and the pain of this and his previous injuries were starting to feel like someone was driving a nail through his head, straight through to his brain. All of that, coupled with the fact that he hadn't eaten for several days was making him a little cranky. If he had to listen to this asshole much longer, he'd beg for a stake and kill himself.
Forrest reached into his back pocket and withdrew a collapsible baton, loving the sound of it echoing from the blank walls as he extended it to its full length. He tapped it against the back of the chair his victim was tied to. This was the part he loved the most, 'reconditioning' the HSTs .
Forest tapped the baton a little harder against the metal frame. He didn't get quite the frightened reaction he was hoping for, that he lived for. "How ya feeling there... Spike, is it. I'm thinking you're going to be our guest here for awhile."
Yeah, Spike had that feeling too. Nice place you got here." He offered, surveying the total lack of any life in the containment cell. "I was expecting more Tom of Finland posters." Why was he such a smart ass, did he like getting beaten? < You just can't help yourself can you? >
That earned him a blow to the solar plexus. He may not have to breathe, but that still hurt like hell.
"Maybe you're not clear on the concept that I'M_ IN_CHARGE_HERE!" Forrest shouted, emphasizing each word with a blow to Spike's chest and stomach. He was indiscriminate in his punishment, letting each strike fall where it may.
It was such a rush. "Who am I," Forrest asked again.
"Beverly?" Spike taunted.
"WHO_ AM_I!" Forrest bellowed this time letting at least one smack of the baton hit the HST in the head. Uppity fucker, he was going to learn just who the hell he was dealing with.
Out of sheer perversion, Spike ground out, "ASSHOLE?"
"MY NAME'S FUCKING YES SIR TO YOU." Forrest roared, aiming one especially brutal blow to the vampire's crotch.
Spike grunted, but kept going. "Oh see, I keep getting it confused. I forgot. It's BITCH!" It had been a long time since someone had irritated him this much, had made his blood boil like this. Well, if you didn't count that goddam slayer. Wouldn't she love front row seats to this one, her and her damn little Scooby gang?
Bitch? Forrest was going to show this insolent piece of shit just what a scary bitch he could be. He dropped the baton, fastened both hands around the blonde vampires throat and began squeezing. "I don't think you're getting the picture sweetie, you got a big fucking mouth and I'm going to shut it for you, permanently."
"You can spare me the melodrama," Spike gritted out, thinking this could take awhile if the lad planned on strangling him to death. Of course, if he was technically dead already, would army boy strangle him deader?
"Forrest." Jay called with amusement from his position against the wall next to Graham." Professor Walsh is going to be mad if you're torturing the prisoner without permission. Besides, choking it isn't going to phase it. It's already dead man."
Forest dropped his hands from Spike's throat, seeing the rationale behind that argument. Professor Walsh had already reprimanded him for being to hard on the Hostiles. Not that she was concerned about their welfare; she was worried that the behavior modification experiments would be compromised in some way. She was a stickler for procedure and rules, and she was The Bitch Monster of Death. Yeah, Maggie Walsh was someone to be afraid of, and not just because she was his superior. She was just fucking scary, period.
Someday, Forrest had every intention of being a commanding officer. But now all he could think of were the narrowed blue eyes challenging him, mocking him. Did 17 think the initiative was a big joke, that he was a big joke? This Hst was about to find out how funny Forrest Gates could be, screw Professor Walsh. No one was going to find out, Graham and Jay sure as hell would never tell.
"Graham, toss me a stake."
The soldier complied with a shrug and a toss. "Don't make a mess."
Forrest caught the sharpened length of wood and without missing a beat, plunged it into the vampire's chest. How was that for a joke, pretty funny-huh?
Goddam. It hurt so much that for a second it felt like every nerve ending in his body originated from that ragged hole of torn flesh. The message of pain was sent screaming to every atom in his body.. Haven't felt anything like that in a while. Jesus, even Dru had never been this sadistic.
"You missed," Spike coughed painfully, staring at the shaft of wood piercing his chest, just above his right nipple. < Thank God. >
"No, just trying to get your attention." Forrest smiled, momentarily lost in a daydream involving the vampire on his knees begging for mercy or for more pain- he hadn't decided which yet. Regaining focus, he gripped the end of the stake and yanked it out forcefully. Turning around, he tossed it back to Graham. "We might need that later."
Graham grinned, shaking his head as he caught it. He was sure that they would.
The wound took seconds to close, Spike's confusion lingered. "I give up," he sighed. "What do you want from me?"
"It's a little thing we like to call operant conditioning." Forrest explained gleefully. A chip has been implanted in your head that makes it impossible for you to hurt humans.
"Tying me up wasn't giving you enough of a stiffy?"
"Now that the chip's in, we put you in a situation that will invoke hostility, then apply painful stimuli. Pretty soon, you'll be a big fluffy puppy. Or, a pile of dust if you don't survive the experiments. I don't care which really, you got a preference?"
"I'd really like to wear your entrails as a belt." Ok, these commandos were certifiable. And their initiative, it was just sodding looney as well.
That was the answer he expected to hear. This one was going to be hard to break, and that was the best kind. Forrest unzipped his pants, which was a signal for Graham and Jay to join him.
Understanding spread instantly over Spike's features. Angelus was the only other man who had ever fucked him and he was hoping to keep it that way.
As a fledgling, Spike had idolized Angelus, he was his Sire, his Yoda, his fucking Jesus Christ. He was also a sick bastard who'd enjoyed inflicting pain on his possessions and he'd definitely delighted in claiming Spike as his own. No way these little shits were going to follow in those footsteps.
Being handcuffed and sitting in a chair wasn't going to make this easy. No. He threw himself backward, landing with a thud on his back and immediately wriggling away. If only he could stand up, he could use his feet as weapons. A good solid kick might be enough persuasion for them, but he knew deep down that it was hopeless.
Jay took one kick to the groin that sent him to the floor on his knees, gasping for breath. Forrest and Graham were more wary, circling just beyond Spike's range.
"You're only making this more difficult," Forrest sneered.
"That's kind of the idea."
"Looks like the chip isn't working yet." Graham stated the obvious, careful not to take his eyes off Hostile 17. "Man, Professor Walsh is gonna have our asses over this one."
"How's she gonna find out, you gonna tell her? You know what to do."
Graham backed towards the door and their gear. He retrieved a taser gun and sighted the vampire, pulling the trigger.
There wasn't anywhere to go in the small cell. A blast of electricity hit him and William The Bloody hit the floor, unable to move a muscle. < So much for resistance. >
They pulled his pants around his ankles and raped the unresisting shell of his body right there on the floor while their friend continued to writhe in pain not ten feet away.
In his mind, he could only repeat to himself, like a mantra. I'm going to fucking kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you.
Lying abused and abandoned on the floor, the hostile looked dead, but that wasn't the case or Riley knew he'd be looking at a pile of dust right about now. He had seen that before, after one of Forrest's little 'sessions'. This time they'd remembered to pull it's pants back up, although they hadn't fastened them. The handcuffs were still on.
Riley shook his head as he walked over to the still form. In the briefing for this assignment, his commanding officer had explained how the Hostile Sub Terrestrials were just that, sub human, animals. It was usually easy to remember that with the demons, most of those were pretty sub human looking. It was the vampire's that were such a problem for him. Without their killing face, it was hard to distinguish them from humans. Maybe that's why he felt sorry for this one.
Forrest had tried to interest Riley in he and Graham's 'reconditioning' adventures, but Riley could never stomach it. He had no special love for the creatures, but it made him uneasy to see them abused so. Even some of the experiments that Professor Walsh and Dr Angelman conducted seemed a little unnecessary.
Riley picked the overturned chair up and placed it upright, then turned and bent over the HST to check on the creature.
Spike sensed the movement coming toward him rather than seeing the figure approaching. He could move his limbs again, just barely. But hell if he was going to lay here and take another helping of whatever these bastards were dishing out. He rocked back on his shoulders and lashed out with a kick
Riley effortlessly caught the assaulting limb. "Easy, I'm not going to hurt you."
"Oh, so you're going to help me escape?" Spike sneered.
"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but I'm not going to give you anymore of what you've just had. How's that?"
Spike glared at the teutonic lad. What were they feeding these boys, they were all big hulking mountains. It was going to make it harder to escape. Not impossible, just harder.
Riley sighed; this one was going to be trouble. And who could blame it. He extended his hand again. "I'm just going to help you up," he explained gently.
Spike nodded his agreement, but still kept a cautious eye on his apparent rescuer. Never trust a bloke as far as you could throw him, Angelus had taught him that.
Riley stopped momentarily. The creature's eyes were so blue, so intense. A wildness, an animal lived somewhere in those eyes and it was barely contained to accept the help he offered. This was a creature that had learned not to trust and it would take extreme gentleness to teach it any other way to think.
Riley snapped out of his thoughts to support the vampire's muscled arm and help him rise from the floor. "There you go. " He didn't have a name to call it, except Hostile 17. That probably wasn't a way to gain a lot of trust, considering what he's experienced here already.
"Do you have a name?"
"Who me?"
"Yeah."
"Like you care."
Absolutely frustrating. Riley counted to five silently. "I can just call you Hostile 17 if you'd prefer?"
No. That's what those fuckers earlier had called him. "It's Spike," he answered peevishly.
"Now we're getting somewhere. Riley walked over to his pack and came back with some antiseptic wipes. The undead probably weren't concerned about germs, but a habit was a habit.
"What are you going to do with those," Spike asked suspiciously.
"I'm going to clean you up,"
"What for?" Spike demanded
Riley couldn't help but grin. "In case you haven't looked at yourself lately- "
Spike quickly glanced down at his chest. His wounds had healed but he was still covered in a layer of dried blood. He could feel it caking his face too, feel it crinkling every time he flexed his mouth and jaw.
"Ok, so take these cuffs off and I'll clean myself up."
"Uh, no. Cuffs stay on. Your chip isn't operational yet, is it?"
"Ahharrgh." Spike kicked the chair, sending it skittering back a few feet.
Riley wasn't scared, recognizing the creature's frustration. "I've got something for you to eat."
"Someone?" Spike asked hopefully.
"Some *thing* ."
Oh great. Looking at this one, he had visions of pot roasts and fried potato products floating through his mind. < Bloody hell. >
This Spike was kind of an amusing guy. Riley opened the wipes and hesitated, moistened towlette hovering inches from the bloodied torso. He was also very muscled. The soldier swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. < Concentrate. >
Riley gently began daubing at the pale flesh that was encrusted with blood. Realizing that approach was largely ineffectual, he scrubbed harder. The vampire's skin began turning red under the soldier's vigorous ministrations, a flush blooming under the smooth surface.
Ok, something was happening. With this boy scrubbing him down, he was starting to have flashbacks to Drusilla's care of him while he was in that wheelchair. She'd used to bathe him, kissing his chest and stomach after each swipe of the washcloth to 'make sure she'd gotten him clean'.
It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him, about him. His sweet Dru, her memory was what caused this feeling in the pit of his stomach, what caused his prick to start swelling. Yeah , it was Dru.
Spike coughed. Riley, realizing he'd been rubbing the same spot on the vampire's chest for some time now, got a new wipe and started in on 17's face. He willed himself not to think about impossibly sculptured cheekbones and was able to complete his task. Yeah, it was hard to remember that the vampires were demons when they wore such human looking faces.
Riley leaned close, brows furrowed in concentration. His touch was feather light this time. The crust of red flaked away slowly, a piece at a time, until more of the hostile's face was revealed. One word- beautiful.
His heart skipped a beat, then speeded it's rhythm as if to catch up. Mind on task at hand, he cautioned himself, but made the mistake of meeting the creature's eyes and found it difficult to look away.
The lad had hazel eyes, beautiful eyes really. But obviously the don't ask don't tell horse was being ridden pretty hard.
Riley stepped back to admire his handiwork clutching the used wipe tightly. He wasn't aware that his knuckles were turning white.
"You were going to feed me?" Spike prompted, noting the commando's body language. I t might not be so hard to get out of this place after all.
"Yeah." Riley blinked, then looked down at the wipe balled in his fist. "Ok." He went over to his gear and extracted a packet of blood, wondering why he was even helping this demon, this vampire.
Spike smiled. Things had been looking hopeless, but now they were looking up. This boy was one of those bleeding hearts, not literally unfortunately, but with the right manipulation he could be very useful-very useful indeed. Wheels began turning as the lad walked back to him. "Here you go,"Riley offered, holding the packet up to the demons face.
"You expect me to bite right through the plastic? Gross. That makes it taste funny," Spike pouted. As if. Blood was blood, but something told him to keep it low key with the soldier. The answer was to make the boy see him less as a demon and more as someone to help. So, game face was out. Pity.
"Oh." That sounded reasonable. Riley fished in his pocket and took out a pocketknife, opening it with one hand. A second later, he added, "Ow!" And reflexively dropped the knife and the packet as a thick line of blood welled up on his index finger. Damn, he'd cut himself.
The smell of the fresh blood made Spike close his eyes and swallow involuntarily. He could feel the ridges breaking out on his face and concentrated desperately, willing them to smooth out.
"You've cut yourself," he offered lamely. Four inches away, that was almost too much. The coppery taste was already filling his senses. Just one taste, that was all he asked-just one.
Riley dragged his eyes away from the blood that was starting to run down his finger and would soon drip on the floor. That's when he noticed the expression on the vampire's face. It's features had softened, desire and yearning mingling unchecked as it stared deliberately at the wound. Riley's stomach did a flip, this was wrong, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to move away.
Spike involuntarily licked his lips. What he really wanted right now was to taste that red blood more than anything in the world. He sought those beautiful hazel eyes, trying to communicate that longing. Hopefully the lad wasn't daft.
Riley might be naïve at times, but he wasn't totally oblivious. He tentatively inched his hand closer and shuddered as the blonde's tongue caught the first drip before it left his finger. When that same tongue followed the drip's path to erase the line of blood at the source, to swirl around the edges of the wound, Riley inhaled sharply. His only thought was a prayer that the vampire wouldn't stop.
Spike answered that prayer by inviting that finger deeper into his mouth, sucking at the wound to increase the flow. He sought the soldier's gaze and wordlessly commanded him to 'be in me'; a nifty little trick Dru had taught him.
Mentally probing the boy's mind, he nearly reeled at the heady mix of want and fear. He embraced those feelings, mixed them with his own thirst for blood and sent it back, magnified one hundred times. Yeah, he'd learned a lot from Dru, but he'd learned even more from Angelus. Using people's most secret fears and desires was always his sire's most favorite game. Spike had studied hard at his master's knee and that was the first lesson he'd learned.
Riley gasped aloud as his mind screamed of lust and death. The need to possess, and to be possessed. A silent cry of pleasure caused by pain echoed through his thoughts. That wasn't his memory; he frantically pulled his hand away.
Damn, too much. Little Nancy boy. That would be the first thing Spike would break him of.
< Keep him close; he's your ticket out of here. > "Aren't you even going to help me with my pants? Those wankers left me here and didn't even dress me properly." < Yeah, that's not all they did, but they'll pay once you get out of here. >
Riley blinked nervously, staring at the truth of the statement as Spikes jeans clung to his hips unbuttoned. He also couldn't help staring at . . . other things.
Spike entered the lad's mind and seized on the fantasy beginning to form there. "It's okay, if you want to touch it," he confided in a conspiratory whisper.
Touch it? As if mesmerized, Riley moved to do just that, freeing Spike and stroking him with fearful admiration. He'd never been this close to a vampire, never touched one in quite this way.
"Hey," Spike murmured softly, drawing the hazel gaze to meet his own. < That's it peaches, don't be afraid. Suck it; you know you want to. >
Suck it? What was he doing? This isn't right. < Yeah, but it feels so good. > In a stupor, he sank to his knees, until the vampire's cock was inches from his face.
He hesitated for a moment. He could see himself doing these things, could question his own sanity, but he couldn't seem to stop. The desire to take Spike's cock in his mouth was overwhelming. < Dr Angelman warned you that Vampires could hypnotize their prey. Is this what's happening? >
Riley didn't care anymore because Spike's cock was in his mouth and he began sucking. Slowly at first, tentatively, but soon with abandon, moving his head up and down frantically. The shaft swelled as Riley's tongue swept over the head, along the underside, discovering every sensitive spot.
< Okay, the lad's good. Too good. > Spike grunted as the human increased his tempo, moving faster, taking him in deeper. He wished he had a hand free, but could only lean in to allow better access.
"Ohhhh," Spike groaned as he came.
Riley swallowed instantly, holding the pulsing shaft in his mouth as it released violently. He held it until it Stopped and then fell back dazed, looking around in confusion, horrified at what he'd done.
A harsh beeping startled them both as Finn's pager began squealing a merciless tone. He reached to shut it off, looking like he was ready to bolt from the room.
"You're not going to leave me here like the others are you?" < Damn pager. Peaches is this close to helping you get the hell out of here. >
"Um yeah, " Riley offered. He moved to assist Spike, gently, as if the touch would burn. The instant he was done, he fled the room.
"Come back soon Peaches." Spike smiled in satisfaction. < Another plan well executed.>
*****************************
*Knock Knock *
Riley opened the door and entered Maggie Walsh's office. She'd summoned him earlier with a terse phone call. Three words: My office now.
Professor Walsh looked up from her desk, features carefully schooled in a completely neutral expression. She had a dry personality, sparse with praise and exacting in her requirements for excellence. She was hard on the soldiers in the initiative because she had to be; their lives depended on it. It was very important work that they were doing here in Sunnydale and there could be no mistakes, nothing to cause the project's support to be withdrawn.
"Agent Finn," she greeted her visitor.
"Professor Walsh," Riley nodded nervously. Maggie Walsh was a brilliant woman, a brilliant scientist. Her experiments in xenomorphic behavior modification were world renown. Her work here at the Initiative was not as widely known on the outside due to the sensitive nature of the circumstances. But she was well respected within the organization, her orders were law.
She nodded to an empty chair in front of her desk, indicating her wish for him to sit down. He never thought to do anything but obey; everyone obeyed Professor Walsh's orders. That's just how it was done.
"Did you want to talk to me about something?" He prompted, feeling a hint of apprehension as she regarded him with an unnervingly silent stare.
She let the silence hang in the air five seconds . . . ten. Riley squirmed a bit and she put her pen carefully down on the desk, leaning back in her chair.
"It has come to my attention that there may be some problems with the reconditioning experiments, a compromise that has affected the validity of the results.
She couldn't . . . Riley froze in his chair, waiting for her to continue. Nothing was ever hidden from Maggie Walsh. She was uncanny in her ability to know everything that happened, no matter how covert the parties involved were.
She paused as she weighed her next words. "It has come to my attention that there has been some . . . fraternization between soldiers and the hostiles."
"Well yes ma'am, but I think Forrest and Graham have stopped their activities ever since your orders. You were very explicit." < Oh God. Let that be what she's talking about.>
She sighed, letting her disappointment show over her features. Small lines were beginning to develop between her brows, a testament to the enormous stress inherent in supervising a project like the initiative.
"You've developed a special . . . interest in Hostile 17."
How could she possibly know that, he'd been very careful to avoid being detected? He'd scheduled visits at off times, obsessively checking to ensure he wasn't followed. How could she possibly have found out? He considered denying it for a moment, but quickly reconsidered. He'd always been a terrible liar.
"How?"
"We've been monitoring the containment quarters."
"I . . . " He trailed off, unsure what she expected of him.
"I've got to hand it to you agent Finn, you've surprised me. I never thought we would be having this conversation, I never thought you would directly disobey an order like this. It's just not like you."
Her disappointment was almost too much to bear. From the first day he'd been recruited for this assignment, he had strived to please Professor Walsh, worked hard to gain her respect and approval. He felt the need to defend himself.
"It's not like that . . . he's not like the others, he's not . . ."
"What," she interrupted. "He's not a vampire?"
Riley hung his head, feeling the pressure of a headache beginning to develop behind his eyes. "He's not a killer."
She laughed, a hollow, bitter sound with no trace of humor in it. "He's a demon Riley. He is a creature that survives by killing innocent humans-indiscriminately. Don't fool yourself. That's what he is, that's all he'll ever be."
Riley looked up in surprise. "What about the experiments, the chips? What have we been doing here all of this time? Are you telling me that all of this is useless?"
She shrugged. "No. We've been very successful in modifying the behavior of most of the subjects. But Hostile 17 has resisted most of our efforts. Even Forrest's-I'll put it bluntly-torture, has had no effect on it."
"He's not an it," Riley defended unthinkingly.
Professor Walsh smiled bleakly. "I'd be interested in finding out how the subject developed such a tolerance for pain, for brutality . . . Oh well, it doesn't matter now."
"It doesn't matter?" Riley echoed.
"He's become a liability."
"What do you mean?"
"I've authorized an order for Hostile 17's termination.
Termination? Oh God, no.
*********************
Spike wandered around the cell humming to himself. Riley still refused to take the handcuffs off. Must not be able to bring himself to trust a vampire yet.
Spike had come to trust Finn though. None of the other commandos had returned for more fun with torture games since the boy had begun visiting him. < Staked his claim has he? > Spike snorted out loud. How long had he been held here, two weeks, three?
These were the worst times, stuck all alone in this cramped cell. He'd almost begun to look forward to Riley's visits. He almost missed the secret glances and the obvious and uncomfortable moral struggle every time the soldier stared hungrily at his crotch, that internal struggle to justify a human/ vampire relationship.A Shag? Spike didn't exactly know how to define their relationship either, but the memories made his cock twitch and start to swell. Where was the lad?
The sound of the lock turning had the vampire instantly alert, ready to do battle, however pointless the outcome. He relaxed as the object of his previous thoughts slipped through he door.
"Hello mate."
The lack of response as well as the worried expression on Riley's face told him something was wrong.
"What's up?"
Riley's eyes scanned the room, looking for cameras as he approached his demon lover. < Lover? Yeah, I guess that's exactly what Spike is, your lover. > The realization of that truth stunned him, but only for a second. It suddenly seemed very natural.
Riley hurriedly dug into his jeans pocket and came out with a key, fumbling as he tried to fit it into the lock. They didn't have much time. He just kept repeating; must get Spike out of here, in an effort to keep calm.
"What_is_wrong?"
Riley glanced around once more, unable to see any video equipment." They've been taping us."
Spike's eyes widened incredulously and his eyes swept the room as well. "Bloody hell!"
"We've got to get you out of here, they're going to kill you."
"Well, we can't have that can we?"
Riley paced restlessly in front of the vampire. "I don't know where we can go to be safe. They're probably monitoring my room as well."
"I know a place."
**************************
"Home sweet home." Spike pronounced, sweeping his arm in an elaborate gesture before them.
The room was a shambles, an abandoned witness to Harmony's rage as she'd moved out after their last argument. Ha! She'd kicked him out and then moved out herself. You've been squatting in a stinking crypt when you could have been sleeping in a real bed? < That crazy bint.>
"Nice," Riley replied, not sounding very convincing.
Spike chuckled. At least the lad wasn't as annoying as Harmony, as if anyone could be.
Riley wandered around the room, stopping at a table piled with junk. He spied a glint of gold and picked up an ornate cross.
"Found religion have ya?"
"Nah, tried to burn my last girlfriend with it."
"Charming."
"So what do you do now? They won't let you be GI Joe anymore, not after you helped me escape."
No they wouldn't. Riley didn't know what he was going to do. He'd been trained for the military, starting as a young child. He didn't know how to do anything else. And he never thought he'd find himself in love with a vampire, was that even possible?
Sad. The boy looked positively sad. He'd given up a lot for a creature he'd been taught to hate and fear and everything he'd ever known was gone.
< Kind of like you. >
< How's that? >
< You've lost everything. >
< Like what? >
< ...Harmony... >
< Ok, now I believe there is a God. >
< ...Dru ...>
< Watch it mate. That was The Slayer's fault. And Angel's. >
< Because he was her sire? >
< Yeah, because he was her sire, you can't break a tie like that. >
< No you can't. >
Spike narrowed his eyes and cocked his head as an idea began to form. He took a step toward where Riley stood near the bed and his eyes swept down the hard, muscled form.
Riley sensed a change and furrowed his brows suspiciously. "What?"
Spike's only answer was a seductive smirk as he stalked toward the human. No, you couldn't break a tie like that.
Somehow Riley knew this was more than a seduction. He could feel the warning screaming through his mind. Yet, he felt trapped, held captive by his own affection, by the predatory stare facing him, by the remembrance of a swollen cock begging for release. He felt panic wash over him, a desperation to save his own soul, but felt powerless to move as his own death stalked him.
Spike could smell the fear and the desperation, could feel them. How? Because he'd lived them, experienced them. He'd felt the same emotions when Angelus had taken his life and changed Will to William the Bloody. He'd acted this part centuries ago as his sire had ripped his throat out and turned him into a demon who would only feel satisfied with the taste of blood. It was good to be on this side.
He cursed his own stupid vulnerability as Spike took a step closer. Riley took a step in retreat and felt the edge of the table come up against his thighs. There was nowhere left to go. Love had led to this, a fatal choice that had only one solution.
Spike hadn't bothered to put on his demon face, but his eyes glowed unnaturally, anticipating what- a meal, bloody death? It was hard to say which. Riley realized that he still clutched the cross and raised it in a pathetic attempt to ward off the vampire.
It didn't do much good. Spike's lips curled up in amusement as his hand came up to cover Riley's. He slowly swung the soldier's arm to the side and squeezed until the cross clattered uselessly to the floor.
"Don't you want to live forever?" he purred.
< Forever? >
"Don't you love me?" Spike hissed softly, accusingly.
Riley swallowed. "Yes."
Insistently, Spike raised his hand to rest on Riley's chest. "Then why are you fighting me?" He whispered, pushing the boy further into the table, immobilizing him more completely.< You'll soon learn never to fight your Sire. >
Spike's hand trailed down to unfasten Riley's jeans, loosening the zipper excruciatingly slowly. "Do you know how badly I wanted to touch you, but couldn't? Do you know what you missed by keeping me handcuffed?"
Spike felt Finn's cock stiffen at the intimate question. He had to lean in close to hear the next, nearly inaudible whisper.
"Show me." The carnal request hung desperately in the air between them.
< Oh, I will. > Spike moved closer, inhaling the scent of spice, sweat and lust. He felt his own cock twinge and he pressed his body against Finn's, reveling in the friction as he rubbed suggestively against the boy. < I will.>
He brushed his lips against the tanned flesh of Riley's neck; just over the pulse point where the human's blood pounded it's furious rhythm and sampled the salty flavor with his tongue.
The feel of Spike's cheek against his own was nearly his undoing; he nuzzled into the vampire's cheek and neck, exposing his own nape more fully. He had nothing left, but Spike. Now he could, would have his lover forever.
Spike allowed his features to morph into the demon planes he had been reluctant to show until now. As his canines elongated, they placed them against the fragile jugular and allowed them to sink slightly into the flesh. Would the human struggle, rethink his seeming acceptance of eternity?
At Riley's whimper, he felt a shock of violence surge through him He could no longer hold himself back and viciously pushed his teeth deeper as his hand came up to grasp Riley's hair, to hold the human still as his life was drained from him.
Riley tried to struggle, but the inhumanely strong arms made it impossible. A voice in the back of his mind whispered for him to lie still and let it happen, he obeyed. That's what the initiative had taught him, how to obey.
Spike could tell that the boy was nearing the threshold where life and death mingle, where this world and the next meet and part ways. He stopped, releasing his hold on the boy and let the soldier sink to his knees. As he swayed there, Spike unbuttoned his own jeans. He pulled them over his own hips, exposing his abdomen and now engorged prick.
With a flick of his wrist, Spike slashed a crimson line across his abdomen, just above his crinkly pubic hair. He reclaimed his grip on Rileys hair and shoved the boy's head toward the bloody streak now forming.
Riley lapped in a hungry frenzy, his soul was gone and a demon fought to emerge. He feared that he could never get enough of the blood, his sire's blood . He made low noises in his throat to communicate this new need, daring anyone to deny him.
A fledgling such as this was dangerous, not in control yet. Spike brought his knee up and sent the youngster sprawling backward. The site of his creation, pants hanging low, blood dripping off of his chin, made Spike insanely happy and horny. This boy belonged to him, forever. Being a sire had its privileges.
"Take everything off and get on the bed." He barked.
The fledgling Riley hesitated, but the threatening step Spike took toward him and the inner voice that commanded him to obey his master overrode any thoughts of insurrection. He scrambled to obey the order.
He lay face down on the bed and prayed that his master would come and explain this new world to him, would tell him how to quiet the burning that threatened to consume him.
"Get up on your knees."
Riley felt moisture, thick and cool, and then something slid into him. A finger? A whoosh filled his head and he was sure this was the answer he was looking for. He pushed back against his master's hand, hoping that was what his sire wanted.
Fledglings were eager to learn all they could, instinctively eager to please the being who had affected their change. Spike worked another finger alongside the first and felt the boy accommodate the new intrusion.
Riley was confused when the pressure stopped and his master withdrew. He looked behind, anxious that he had offended his sire, but relaxed as he felt a new hardness pressing into him, demanding entry. Soon he would understand.
Without warning Spike penetrated his childe, pushing in deep to claim the immature vampire as his, to link them together forever as Angelus had done to him, done to Dru. A growl erupted from the childe's mouth, as he finally understood what he had become and whom he served.
< No one will ever take this one away from you. >
Spike began to teach Riley the lessons Angelus had taught him so long ago.
*******************************
"Spike?" The newly emerged demon addressed him, eyes shining in the dim reflection of a failing streetlight. He stood eagerly, body humming with newfound sensations, trying to take everything in at once and nearly succeeding.
< This is the creature I made. > Without all of that ridiculous camouflage Riley was a beautiful sight, dressed all in black.
< Because creatures of the night should be dressed in black. It's the natural order of things; everyone knows that. >
"Come here," Spike commanded his charge in an authoritive voice.
"Yes my love?" Riley instantly slid next to his Father, his Sire.
Spike's hand grazed the strong cheekbone, trailed to grasp the firm chin as he raised his head and touched his lips to his childe's
Riley needed no further encouragement. He zealously twined his tongue with Spike's, pushing eagerly to explore his Sire, to taste everything that he loved about his new transformation .He wanted to thank the savior who had eaten his fear, giving only eternity.
Spike ran his hand along his new possession. This is what he'd been missing all of these years. He should never have tried to fit himself into Dru and Angel's relationship, there was no way to loosen their tie. Spike had loved their Sire, but soon grew tired of his brutality. Dru hadn't, she loved it. But she was fucked up completely.
Spike had a hard time submitting to anyone, even his Sire. Drusilla, she was another story. She was what Angelus had made her; he'd tried to mold her into his own image, but had ended up breaking her instead. Breaking her and abandoning them both. Who knew what hell she existed in now, probably wallowed in one of her own making. That wasn't Spike's problem anymore.
He was determined to tread a different path than the one Angelus had. He loved the possibility of what the boy could become. He wouldn't drive Riley away as his own Sire had, but nurture the true evil that would be the youngster's existence. He would bind Riley to him forever as a companion and lover so that William the Bloody would never be alone again. Spike would never have to compete for his affection, ever.
The first step in the lad's instruction would be to erase his previous existence, to wipe out everything that remained of his human soul. Not just to forget his life before, it ran deeper than that. Riley must destroy everything from his human past completely and utterly. It must be done by the new demon, no help from the Sire.
"Do you want to play a game?"
"Oh yes," Riley breathed, hoping it was the same kind of game they'd played earlier. He pressed closer to his Sire, wrapping his arms tightly around Spike's waist and embracing him, stroking his ass suggestively with a bemused expression.
Spike couldn't help but smile. "Now listen, this is very important," he admonished lightly.
"Like a test?" Riley asked, eyes wide with excitement.
"Yeah, like a test," he explained gently. < God in the eyes of a childe>
"I'd like that very much." Riley ground his hips against Spike. "What do I do?"
< Delightful boy. > "Remember before?"
"Before what?" Riley grinned dreamily."
"Before_I_turned _you," Spike answered, trying to keep the fledgling focused on the necessary task at hand and not allow them to be distracted by a very enjoyable but inconvenient diversion.
Riley's face hardened and he frowned. "I don't want to think about that," he spat as if the very words disgusted him.
"Don't you trust me?"
Riley's features instantly softened in concern. "Yes I do, I swear. Tell me what you want."
< That's better. >
"Well you have to..."
**********************************
Maggie Walsh gasped in surprise and stopped in place as Riley Finn rounded the corner. He looked different, not just his clothes, but the very aura around him was just-different. He was more agitated, eyes darting quickly from side to side in an effort to take in every minute detail of the environment. His nostrils flared as he caught some scent in the air and turned to look at her.
"Agent Finn, glad to see you've." she trailed off as she noticed his eyes, feral, vicious, full of hate that couldn't be contained. ".come to your senses." Something was definitely wrong.
"Yes I have," he hissed. "At last."
"You can speak before the board, I'll go with you. You've always been an exemplary soldier, we can explain, make them see that you just..."
He sniffed loudly, cocking his head. "This part of the game is less fun. You're not playing right," he complained. "You should be more afraid."
Maggie Walsh's mouth dropped as the unimaginable became reality before her eyes. Riley's face transformed, telling her that the soldier she knew was dead and a demon was all that remained.
"Oh Riley," she sighed sadly.
"Oh Riley," he echoed mockingly. "Don't say it like you're sorry. I'm better now, stronger. I've never felt more alive than I do right now, and you know what I really love?"
Professor Walsh didn't answer.
"This." He leaped forward, pinning her against the wall and tore her throat out. He purged himself of her memory, his life, the last of his humanity. He destroyed everything that existed of Agent Riley Finn; commando, soldier and replaced it with rage and hate and hunger. He replaced it with all of the gifts his father had given to him, hoping he had passed the test.
Spike watched the scene with pride. The lad had a natural talent, he had to give his Peaches that. What a winning combination: talent, enthusiasm and the urge to please.
Riley had embraced his task with a willingness that was astonishing. He'd been truly wasted hunting demons for that sodding initiative pile of crap. They had a vision, but come on-neutering demons and vampires, that was just insane.
Spike came up behind Riley and put his hand on his back, amused by the animalistic noises that came from the fledgling.
"Um, I think that's good then Peaches. She looks pretty dead to me."
"I want more," Riley growled low in his throat, definitely no longer sounding human.
"Well, I do have an entrée in mind.."
**************************************
"..he was on his knees sucking vampire cock like it was going out of style."
"No way," Graham argued.
"Way dude," Forrest laughed. "Saw the tape with my own eyes."
"How'd you get a hold of that?"
"I have my sources." Forrest grinned wickedly.
"Yeah, well remind me never to get on your bad side."
"You know I'd never hurt you baby," Forrest teased in a high falsetto. "I'll only use my powers for good."
Graham laughed, but his earlier disbelief was still apparent. "Riley?"
"Hand to God."
"Never took you for a religious man Forrest." Riley stepped out of nowhere,clapping an arm across both of their shoulders and hugging them vigorously.
"No, I leave that up to you altar boy."
Graham snickered, then immediately tried to suppress it, he ended up in a coughing fit.
"Careful there Graham, you might choke to death," Riley warned coldly.
"Didn't think we'd see you around here again Ri," Forrest said, ignoring his friend's spasm. "Did you miss us?"
"Nah, just doing a favor for a friend." He shoved both soldiers forward violently, hurling them through the air; they landed against the wall with a crash. Both lay dazed for a moment, then struggled to regain their footing, eyes widening in disbelief.
"Hey Bitch, what's up?" Spike stepped from behind Riley and stood beside his childe.
Forrest's eyes narrowed with hate, but he didn't answer.
"Maybe you're not clear on the concept that I'm_in_charge_here." Spike mimicked in a sing song.
"What I'm clear on is that you're gonna be a pile of dust when I'm through with you," Forrest challenged.
"You and whose army?" Spike glanced around, suddenly remembering where they were. "Oh, this one."
Spike wrinkled his brow for a second. "Nah, they're not going to help you." He waved his hand in dismissal.
"Why not."
"Cause I killed 'em."
"You did?" Graham stated in disbelief.
"Had a little help."
"From who?" Forrest scoffed.
"Oh some, and I use the term loosely, friends."
A group of Fyarl demons tramped by, handcuffs dangling ineffectively from their wrists and ankles. They ignored everything in their hurry to get out of the building.
Spike watched them go. "What can I say, I loved that movie Born Free."
"Baby, can I kill them now?" Riley pouted, running his hand up his lover's arm.
Spike chuckled. "Knock yourself out ."
As strong as they were, the two soldiers were no match for an unfettered vampire intent on spilling blood, they fell quickly.
Riley rose and rejoined Spike, leaving the bodies sprawled across the floor in disarray. Their blood made interesting patterns on the linoleum. He never knew he was such an artist.
Spike licked the blood from his childe's chin. "Got someone I want you to meet."
"Who? " Riley asked apathetically. He was more interested in trying to capture his sire's tongue.
"The slayer."
"A friend of yours?"
"Nah, I hate that bitch."
END