Strength in Numbers, part 14

[thatotherperv]

vamptastica was kind enough to adapt her gorgeous spike/dawn banner for this fic. *loves her hard*

uh...my first ever fight sequence in this part. that's why I took so long with this, I've been fretting over it for a month, but now it's like...whatever, I'm just gonna post it.

I couldn't help putting in a little wink to Angel/Cordy, because I shipped them hard before I even knew what shipping was, and I love them as friends as well.



Title: Strength in Numbers
Author: Mel (btvslover82)
Pairings: Spike/Dawn, Angel/Spike, and Angel/Dawn. eventually S/A/D. References to A/B and S/B.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The nerds were successful in assassinating Buffy in late season 6, and this fic spins events out afterwards. See A/N in part 1 for where it goes AU.
Warnings: sex with a minor (16yo at the youngest point), slash, eventual threesome, character death (Buffy)…errr…. bloodplay. other stuff.
Disclaimer: Joss would blush. I am, alas, still poor. don’t sue me.
Feedback: please!

Previous parts are here


banner by the lovely and talented vamptastica






Part 14

The Turok-Han wasn’t the most formidable thing Spike ever fought—it’s technique was shite, for one thing. Like a horror-movie zombie, stiff arms flailing as he growled menacingly, hits clumsy and without finesse.

Its lack of poetry just made the fact that Spike was getting his arse kicked all the more shameful.

Where the thing lost points for execution, it made up in construction. Sturdy bastard. A stake to the chest did nothing—he’d found that out the hard way—and the holy water had burned him a hell of a lot worse than this thing.

Nothing killed the blighter. Well, there was always something.

He and Angelus had always assumed the thing a myth before now, and Wes’ research had yielded no solution. It seemed afraid of sunlight, but that was no use to him. However, Angel agreed that it could probably be dusted by decapitation.

Spike aimed the crossbow and pulled the trigger, knowing it was an empty threat, but desperately needing a moment to scrape himself off the pavement. He grabbed the nearest weapon—a metal bar that reminded him of better days…pool cues, subway rails. One hit to the face and another to the chest to derail the beast and Spike was using the bar to catapult himself towards some kind of axe lying around the construction site.

Gramps was on him too quick—ducking the blow meant to take off his head and shoving Spike into the side of the office trailer. Spike found the tool wrenched out of his grip, barely escaping a lethal blow himself as he stumbled away. The Turok-Han tossed the weapon and came at him, knocking him around while he was still off-balance until he fell back.

Hard as it was to believe, cinder blocks were hard and not pleasant on the back of the skull. The old codger, on the other hand, seemed to think they tickled when Spike smacked one over its head. It snarled and tossed him onto the construction scaffolding, scrambling up after.

Before Spike could regain his sense, the beast was on him, clamping its gnarled hand around his throat and hoisting him over its head.

He struggled, feet kicking helplessly like a child. For one stark moment he panicked, hearing the girls calling out in distress. It was too strong. Staging this fight to teach the girls a lesson had been the stupidest bloody idea. Cocky. Foolhardy.

That’s what Angelus would say, anyway.

When he was a fledge, Angelus used to hold him aloft just so. William had panicked then as well, still instinctively attached to his breath. His sire had done it again and again, to drive home one thing.

“You stupid sod,” Spike choked out. “Vampire, here—I don’t have to breath.”

He ripped the arrow from the creature’s chest and jammed it into his eye, gaining his footing as the Turok-Han dropped him in pain. Immediately he went on the offense, driving it backwards with blows. If he let the thing recover, he didn’t know if he could gain the upper hand again.

When the beast fell into a pile of wood, Spike leapt after, trading punches. He slammed it face-first into the scaffolding, and it buckled to its knees, dazed.

He wrapped a handy length of wire around its throat from behind and yanked with all his might, slicing until the body against his own crumbled helplessly to dust.

Spike shook the debris off his coat, panting with exertion. Bloody hell. The good news was, it had been the only thing standing between them and Willow.

Remembering his purpose, Spike turned towards the gaggle of little girls watching him slack-jawed. “Well, there. See? They can be killed. So quit your whinging.”

Should have known better than to expect them to be impressed.

“Right!” One of them called out. The black one. Mouthy chit. “Someone with vampire reflexes can kill one of them, and even you almost lost! How the hell are we supposed to kill it?”

Christ he was in pain. Made him all cranky.

“Do you want to die?” he said bluntly. They all fell silent from their murmuring. “Ok then. Don’t expect me to molly-coddle you, because I won’t. But I’ll teach you how to keep yourselves alive, if you shut your traps for three bleedin’ seconds.”

They all blinked at him. He turned and started towards Revello, leaving Xander to herd them after.

“Harris, you’d better get them inside before they get eaten by something. Oh, and after they’re all tucked into their beds, you and I have a date with Red. Bout time we rescued that girl.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Dawn?” Angel’s voice was pinched as the girl in question unconsciously hitched his arm higher between his shoulders.

She was panting, a little out of breath from their lesson. The warm, moist air from her lungs was ghosting softly over his skin with every exhale. “What?”

He could feel her body heat against his back.

“Uh, that was good, so let’s…call it a day, alright? You’re doing well, I think we can stop early.”

Dawn let go of his arm and stepped back, and Angel stifled a groan as he twisted it back into place. When he turned around she was grinning at him. “Yeah, I’m pretty good, right? I can kick your ass.”

Angel snorted, ignoring the shooting pain in his shoulder. “I don’t know about that. I let you win, you know.”

She rolled her eyes as she put away the equipment. “Yeah, whatever.”

Angel waited until she’d left the room to collapse onto the mat, groaning and massaging his shoulder. Jesus. She’d nearly dislocated it, the way she pinned it behind his back.

But what had really made him cry off was the press of her body against his. Much more of that and he would have been limping for an entirely different reason than sore muscles.

“What happened to her being a helpless little girl?”

Angel didn’t even have to lift his head. Cordy. “Yeah, well…you women are never as helpless as you make out to be.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She sat down beside him on the mat, moving his hand out of the way and taking over a deep-tissue massage of his delt. He groaned at the pleasure-pain of a good massage…which incidentally, was not going to make his problem below the waist disappear. “You still going easy on her?”

“She’s not going easy on me,” he griped.

“Big baby.” Angel knew without looking at her that she was smiling. He’d know that tone anywhere.

“Yeah, well, you say that to me next time, when you find my arm dangling from its socket.”

“So maybe you should go a little less easy on her.”

Angel grunted. Maybe.

“She’s stronger than a human,” Cordy observed.

“I know, she’s fast. About as fast as a slayer. A little clumsy, but she’s getting better.”

“So. Do you think she’s—?”

“No,” he said quickly. Though he and Spike had discussed the possibility. Even if she was a potential, she was staying right here. “Honestly, I thought about it, but she doesn’t feel like a slayer to me. And she heals like a human.”

Cordy considered that a moment before fixing him with a glowing smile, patting him on the chest as she finished with his shoulder. “Maybe you’re just getting soft in your old age.”

“I’m not old,” he mumbled. “But I think…you know, when they made Dawn…when they made Dawn, they made her from Buffy.” His heart ached dully as he said her name. It always would, so he’d better get used to it. Nobody was doing Dawn any favors by avoiding the topic.

But some nights he lay awake and wondered just how fast Buffy would have chopped his balls off if she had known the thoughts he was having about her little sister.

Cordy’s eyes were knowing. He was sure she hadn’t missed the waver in his voice, but she let him off the hook when he cleared his throat.

“So you think she’s like…part slayer. Or, essence of slayer.”

“Something like that.”

Cordy pretended to think about that. “Is that why you’re falling in love with her?”

“What? I’m not—!”

“Oh please. Don’t even try it with me, mister. Does Spike know?”

“There’s nothing for him to know. I’m not—”

“Angel.”

He huffed out a sigh, frustrated. There was no use arguing with Cordy, when she thought she knew something. “There’s nothing for him to know…but if there was…I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t stake me.”

“Mmmm. Must be leftover endorphins from all the boning you two did before he left.” Angel stared at her, dumbfounded. “Please, do you think anyone gets it on in this hotel without everyone knowing? It’s not just vamp hearing, Angel. The pipes carry sounds disturbingly well. Why do you think I’m always going to Groo’s place?”

“Because I don’t like him?”

She rolled her eyes. “You two need to put that to rest. And stop changing the subject. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong. I know you’re Denial-Guy, but you’re falling for her. I recognize the irritability.”

Angel didn’t even respond to her teasing, caught up in his own thoughts. He looked away. Was he falling for her? Maybe he was, but— “I shouldn’t.”

Cordy caught his attention by slipping her hand into his. “Like you’re always so responsible with where you put your heart. It doesn’t always make sense, Angel.” She smiled at him smally and added lightly, “Otherwise you would have fallen in love with me.”

He squeezed her hand.

“As it is, you’re stuck with the ones that make no sense whatsoever. And they tend to be small and blond in your case, so at least this one’s a change of pace!” He laughed despite the fact that the idea terrified him. Cordy was good at that. “I like her, Angel. She’s smart and sweet on you and she shows no mercy. And she’s stronger than she looks.”

“…Yeah.”

She rolled to her feet. “Now scrape your lame old ass of the floor, mister, because I had a vision. There’s a guy in Reseda who’s going to hatch flesh-eating demon babies out of his skull at midnight if we don’t stop him from getting poked by mama.”

part 15 here

A/N: This chapter twists the events of Bs7 Showtime. I ganked the fight choreography straight out of that ep. It was sort of training wheels for my first attempt at action.



ALSO! so I have this problem. as I write ahead, I keep wanting Angel to use some endearment for Dawn during some more tender moments but...dude wasn't exactly an endearment kind of guy in canon. that we saw, anyway. but he *can* be so schmoopy when he loves someone (see: Buffy), especially a small young female someone, so I feel like.... anyway, any thoughts on that would be helpful. any of the traditional ones don't sound right coming out of his mouth in a serious context. I've tried "baby" because big guys can get away with that, I've always thought...but it only works for me sometimes and never with Dawn. and I can't see him saying sweetheart or...I don't even know.

Comments

[thatotherperv.livejournal.com]

glad you enjoy it!

glad you liked the spike v buffy differences. there will be much more of that as the s7 plot progresses. somehow I don't see Spike being all speechified.

you know, I don't think Cordy is in love with him here, although it does feel like there's a certain amount of...wistfulness that it didn't work for them when they gave it a bit of a go. and omg, I felt personally violated by that too! still do. I have residual bitterness.

cool! I'll friend back :)