Idle Threats Does Not a Greatgrandsire Make
Idle Threats Does Not a Greartgrandsire Make.
By FemailoftheSpecies
cafedemonde@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Joss owns it all.
Distro: WWOMB, Poetry-in-Motion, Indulgences, Mystifying Dreams, WritingsoftheFemail, My LJ.
Spike/Darla
R for Bloodplay and a little torture and a few words
Summary: She was still a bloody bitch.
Spoilers: pre-canon so none really
A/N: This is for lilbreck’s I-will-work-for-fic challenge.
Thanks to Kallierose for the beta! She kept me on track when I started to stray.
Feed back is the best way to let a writer know how you feel. So do share!
~~~~
She was still a bloody bitch. That was his opinion of her, and it was not likely to change.
Snarling as she slipped around him to his backside, William had the distinct impression that Darla was angry. Oh, she laughed and quipped as she whipped him senseless, but there was an undercurrent of seething anger, which alone was not uncommon, but today it seemed out of place. Her anger was a constant; that was a given. She was always upset over this or appalled by that. Nothing pleased her for long.
Except Angelus.
He could do no wrong. At least that was how William saw it. Actually, that’s how it was.
His eyes drifted heavenward. There was a loud bang followed by several more as the fighting upstairs continued. Drusilla was in a snit about Darla touching her boy, and Angelus had been ducking furniture and knives all afternoon. A feral scream signaled the dusting of yet another minion who got in her way. William only smiled.
None of what occurred above them distracted the tiny blonde. It actually seemed to give her comfort and she went about her mission of torturing him with a single-mindedness that intrigued the younger vampire. He grew too bored too quickly to stay on task for long.
Her inner rage tainted the air and he nearly tasted on this tongue as his face twisted into a smirk as he realized the problem. He wondered what her darling boy had done.
This beating certainly was not about him. Her dislike for Drusilla’s childe was cool and calculated…nothing personal, it just was. She did not care about William in the least, much less enough to spur this kind of emotional response to his calling her a bitch, which she was, again.
So there must be another explanation altogether for laying into his flesh with such passion. Such was his reasoning.
The curls piled high on her head were slipping to one side and she stopped, taking a moment to right them. She was not in a rush; they had until Angelus ran out of minions for Drusilla to kill before the girl would get past her sire and interrupt.
“What did he do?” his voice was cracked and gravelly from the initial screaming. There had been holy water.
That he was speaking was unexpected, the question shocking, and there was that faltering pause before she regained her composure and replied with her usual disdain, annoyed that he had caught her off guard. It was a good cover, but William already knew something was up.
“You’d do better to focus on what you’ve done, William.” She came around to face him, her hair almost fixed, and smiled up at him sweetly…well as sweetly as a barracuda could.
“If I’m to be beaten for Angelus’ sins, the least you can do is fill me in.” His blue eyes penetrated her, leaving her no room to house her secrets. But she put up a wonderful front. “Unless…this isn’t private, is it?” he asked with a shrewd grin. “Not some lover’s quarrel?” He raised his eyebrow, but schooled his features into one of utter compassion.
Darla was having none of it.
“This is about your inability to keep a civil tongue in that vile hole you call a mouth.”
“It wasn’t so vile when it had you screaming, now was it, Darla?”
She laughed and picked up the whip again, eager to get back to work as another minion fell. “No, obviously not. I know talent when I feel it sliding between my thighs,” she whispered as the braided leather came down hard across his already bloodied flesh. Several startled and anguished screams escaped him.
“Just consider this as me returning the favor.”
end
By FemailoftheSpecies
cafedemonde@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Joss owns it all.
Distro: WWOMB, Poetry-in-Motion, Indulgences, Mystifying Dreams, WritingsoftheFemail, My LJ.
Spike/Darla
R for Bloodplay and a little torture and a few words
Summary: She was still a bloody bitch.
Spoilers: pre-canon so none really
A/N: This is for lilbreck’s I-will-work-for-fic challenge.
Thanks to Kallierose for the beta! She kept me on track when I started to stray.
Feed back is the best way to let a writer know how you feel. So do share!
~~~~
She was still a bloody bitch. That was his opinion of her, and it was not likely to change.
Snarling as she slipped around him to his backside, William had the distinct impression that Darla was angry. Oh, she laughed and quipped as she whipped him senseless, but there was an undercurrent of seething anger, which alone was not uncommon, but today it seemed out of place. Her anger was a constant; that was a given. She was always upset over this or appalled by that. Nothing pleased her for long.
Except Angelus.
He could do no wrong. At least that was how William saw it. Actually, that’s how it was.
His eyes drifted heavenward. There was a loud bang followed by several more as the fighting upstairs continued. Drusilla was in a snit about Darla touching her boy, and Angelus had been ducking furniture and knives all afternoon. A feral scream signaled the dusting of yet another minion who got in her way. William only smiled.
None of what occurred above them distracted the tiny blonde. It actually seemed to give her comfort and she went about her mission of torturing him with a single-mindedness that intrigued the younger vampire. He grew too bored too quickly to stay on task for long.
Her inner rage tainted the air and he nearly tasted on this tongue as his face twisted into a smirk as he realized the problem. He wondered what her darling boy had done.
This beating certainly was not about him. Her dislike for Drusilla’s childe was cool and calculated…nothing personal, it just was. She did not care about William in the least, much less enough to spur this kind of emotional response to his calling her a bitch, which she was, again.
So there must be another explanation altogether for laying into his flesh with such passion. Such was his reasoning.
The curls piled high on her head were slipping to one side and she stopped, taking a moment to right them. She was not in a rush; they had until Angelus ran out of minions for Drusilla to kill before the girl would get past her sire and interrupt.
“What did he do?” his voice was cracked and gravelly from the initial screaming. There had been holy water.
That he was speaking was unexpected, the question shocking, and there was that faltering pause before she regained her composure and replied with her usual disdain, annoyed that he had caught her off guard. It was a good cover, but William already knew something was up.
“You’d do better to focus on what you’ve done, William.” She came around to face him, her hair almost fixed, and smiled up at him sweetly…well as sweetly as a barracuda could.
“If I’m to be beaten for Angelus’ sins, the least you can do is fill me in.” His blue eyes penetrated her, leaving her no room to house her secrets. But she put up a wonderful front. “Unless…this isn’t private, is it?” he asked with a shrewd grin. “Not some lover’s quarrel?” He raised his eyebrow, but schooled his features into one of utter compassion.
Darla was having none of it.
“This is about your inability to keep a civil tongue in that vile hole you call a mouth.”
“It wasn’t so vile when it had you screaming, now was it, Darla?”
She laughed and picked up the whip again, eager to get back to work as another minion fell. “No, obviously not. I know talent when I feel it sliding between my thighs,” she whispered as the braided leather came down hard across his already bloodied flesh. Several startled and anguished screams escaped him.
“Just consider this as me returning the favor.”
end