FIC: Designation: Hostile 17, 2/4
Masterpost
Part 1
494 hoped this was just another test and wouldn't lead into anything like his clone’s current status as a living harvest for vital organs. To Manticore, all transgenics were considered collateral damage, and they had no concern whether or not he’d survive. After Berrisford, he'd had new accommodations in cy-ops, and been labeled problematic due to his actions regarding his assignment.
In Section D, he was led by Renfro and a medical team of white coats down a long corridor of glass cells, escorted by armed guards. One cell after another housed various anomalies; new anomalies that had been captured and brought in from other facilities. Most huddled in a back corner, though a few stood aggressively and snarled as they passed. When they stopped, he was facing a cell that was occupied. 494 immediately saw a figure curled into a ball on the floor. The white of the gown matched and blurred with the alabaster white skin of its limbs. The medical gown simply covered their mid section; from the crouched position, 494 couldn’t decipher what it was or even its sex. The only distinguishing color was their hair. It was short, just past its neck, in disarray like it was slowly growing out. Streaks of platinum dominated down to the ends, but below that the crown was a darker yellow gold, almost honey wheat in color.
494 didn’t have time to ponder its oddness as the figure abruptly stood snarling, baring its teeth. Blood yellow eyes immediately zeroed in on him as it stared-hungrily.
Abruptly, 494 realized it knew something that he didn’t until that moment-it was starved and he was its dinner. Fear sliced through 494 as he instinctively took a step back, but was stopped and pushed forward by the guards that had accompanied him. Before he knew it, the door opened and they shoved him in.
He had no time to adjust as the anomaly attacked, holding him down even as he struggled and was surprised to find the anomaly’s strength equaled his. The fight only lasted seconds; his shirt ripped as the anomaly used it to pull him forward before it sank its teeth into his jugular. It was painful, savage. For long moments he couldn’t hear anything over his thundering heart. Then 494 heard Renfro’s voice calmly stating to the anomaly that if it drained its food source, they’d only double to triple the amount of time before its next feeding. At first the anomaly didn’t seem to register her announcement, then bit by bit it pulled back, retracting its fangs.
Slowly it let him go, but stayed hunched over him, determined to keep its food. Weakly, Alec fell back to the floor, listening, incapable of doing anything else.
Vaguely, he heard Renfro. “Simply behave and follow my orders. It won’t be a permanent situation, but he’ll stay and be available for scheduled feedings - subject to your cooperation and usefulness. I’ll be back in the morning. I do suggest you allow him to rest and eat the nourishments we’ll provide as he’ll be your only source of food for awhile.”
494 was too tired and couldn’t keep his eyes opened, no longer sure he wasn’t just dreaming when he heard ‘it’ growl a consent as Renfro followed with, “Good. I’m glad we have an understanding.” Then to the medical team she added, “Keep me updated on their status.” Then he heard the hard click of her heels retreating down the corridor accompanied with the entourage he had arrived with.
As the distance increased, 494 heard it; it was definitely male as it cursed above him. “Wankers.” Then it hunched over him, gripping his jaw, moving his head from one side to the other, inspecting him before settling on the wound it had created. 494 wanted to flinch, afraid it was going to ignore Renfro’s orders and finish him off. Instead it licked over the bite before pulling back. It kept his voice low so only 494 could hear. Still, he detected an English accent. “Know you’re not sleeping mate. Have a name?”
494 struggled to answer with his designation, but other than guttural moans he couldn’t muster any energy to do more than that.
He heard a chuckle, “Yeah sorry ‘bout that-well, not really. Bloody labcoats kept me starved. Nearly drained you dry. You’re lucky; unlike my Princess or the bloody poof, I’m not in the habit of keeping or playing with my food. However, under the circumstances,” he trailed off, then ordered, “Sleep. Need to keep you for a bit.” 494 felt fingers sweep over his face in a gentle caress. “I’ll wake you if they keep their word and bring refreshments.” 494 didn’t want to follow the order, but his body had other ideas as sleep claimed his body.
Waking, 494 wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when he opened his eyes. He was still sprawled out on the floor, only his head was resting comfortably in the anomaly’s lap. One hand swept up over his stomach while the other caressed his face, a thumb sweeping up over his lip when it asked, “Hungry?”
It took 494 a moment to realize he was bare-chested. Before the anomaly could stop him, Alec rolled, turned and landed in a crouch on his feet, defensive and ready as he faced the anomaly.
The anomaly smirked. “Neat trick.” To the side of him sat a tray with food and a few tall glasses of what appeared to be milk. The anomaly picked up one glass, sniffing it before he offered it to 494. “Doesn’t appear to be drugged.”
494 continued to stare. However, using his peripheral vision, he explored his surroundings even as he recalled how he'd ended up in the cell. Renfro.
“Take it mate, need you to replenish some that sweet elixir, I’m gonna want to take another nibble soon.” His head tilted and he held the glass out, silently demanding 494 take it.
Unable to think of a reason to decline without forcing the anomaly or Renfro’s retaliation, he accepted the glass of milk. The anomaly said it wasn’t drugged, but he could taste the extra spike of tryptophan. He could only guess Manticore was trying to supplement his blood loss after the anomaly’s extraction.
When he finished the first glass, the anomaly asked, “So what are you?”
494 didn’t answer but retorted, “Could ask the same.” His nostrils flared, unable to hide his disgust for Manticore’s anomalies. “You’re definitely not human.” He took in the anomaly’s innocent features and added, “Even if you look like it now.”
“Oi, you mean this?” Suddenly the anomaly moved, standing, and as swiftly as any X5, effortlessly pulled and shoved him against the wall. Alec dropped the tumbler. The anomaly leaned in closer, his face shifting to reveal ridges over his brows and yellow eyes, and glared at him. His fangs dropped.
“Me? I’m your worst nightmare mate, a vampire. And you? Besides being a convenient walking happy meal, what are you? Where are we? What is this place? Some underground Watcher facility? Is Slutty here?”
494’s eyes widened when he heard the anomaly identify himself as a vampire, something he had only heard about from fairytales. The vampire grinned, pleased he was getting through to him. Still, his hand tightened around his throat, demonstrating its increased strength and lifted him off the ground. Then someone from another cell yelled out, “Don’t kill him, he was one of them, you can use him to get out of here.”
“That right? You one of them? Must‘ve been a very bad boy if they're willing to let me drain you.” Ever so slowly he lowered 494 enough so he could touch the ground and stand on his own. It maintained its grip around his neck, but eased up enough that 494 could answer its questions. “Now let’s start at the beginning shall we? What’s your name and what are you?”
“My designation is X5-494, X5 series.”
“Designation? X what? Never mind that, where the hell are we?”
Another voice broke into the conversation, saying, “Go ahead 494, tell him.”
At Renfro’s voice, the anomaly’s hold relaxed and he patted 494's neck before he twisted and looked over his shoulder to see Renfro standing in front of his cell with two medical assistants beside her.
494 obeyed her order and choked out. “We’re at Manticore.”
He licked his lips as the anomaly released his hold, then fully, almost casually, he turned around to face Renfro, but stayed directly in front of 494. 494 was confused by the defensive move as the anomaly appeared to use his body to shield him from Renfro -- then it occurred to 494 he was protecting his food source.
He couldn’t see the anomaly’s face, but Renfro was clearly pleased and smiled. “Well, well, look at you hostile 17. Seems 494 was a good choice after all and sated your appetite.”
The anomaly, hostile 17, growled.
“Humph, not really interested in your posturing. However, for the moment, we do have a deal…” She nodded to one of the techs behind her, and they moved toward the cell and opened a small window that simultaneously extended an acrylic shelf, making it easier to push the tray they were holding through. Renfro didn’t mince with words as she ordered, “Fill both vials of blood. Do it yourself or have 494 do it. Refuse or hesitate, I’ll rescind my offer, take it by force, and then permanently remove 494.”
For a moment, the anomaly didn’t move, and 494 understood with sudden clarity his days were numbered. Renfro had no intention of ever allowing him to return to the freedoms he had previous to the Berrisford assignment. It’d be this: living as hostile 17's food source, or life like his twin, a living incubator.
The decision was out of his hands as hostile 17 moved toward the tray and quickly injected a needle, filling the vial with his blood, then quickly did the same with the second vial. “Good. Once I have the results, we’ll have a little Q &A.” She glanced behind hostile 17 and met 494's gaze, her lips curling into a small smile. “Bon appétit,” she said, and left.
Silence followed until hostile 17 smashed his fist against the glass, roaring his anger and ignoring the pain as he was zapped by the electrified force field.
“Fucking bint’s dead when I get out of here!”
494 snorted.
Hostile 17 growled out and stared 494 down. “Think that’s funny?”
“Under the circumstances... yeah.”
Hostile 17’s face fell at his words quiet. “Don’t worry pet, not grand standing but a promise.”
494 only nodded, recognizing it as truth.
Hostile 17 walked up and stepped into his personal space and asked, “Now where were we? Oh yeah. We established your designation is X5 494, correct?” 494 tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Alright, and we’re in Manticore, yeah? So what the bloody hell is Manticore?”
494 shrugged and looked around like being there was self explanatory.
“Right, let’s back up a few steps. What about watchers, the Slayer they around here somewhere?”
494 had no idea who or what a watcher or slayer was. Hostile 17 leaned towards his neck and hovered there, then licked over the bite he had created earlier, sending shivers down 494’s spine. Stepping back he asked, “But you’re one of them, or were, right? But somehow you screwed up bad enough that you’re in here with me-why is that, what did you do?”
“I failed to eliminate my assigned targets.”
“An assassin then. Hmmm, and what are you inside? You’re not exactly human.” The anomaly sinuously licked his lips before continuing, “You taste different. Similar to one of Dru’s kittens; you a cat?”
494 sneered, then straighten his shoulders and stood proudly, nodding as he explained, “Manticore’s x-series, a transgenic; my DNA was spliced with non-humans, a high percentage of feline to create a super soldier to enhance various abilities: intelligence, hearing, sight, strength. We’re better, improved.”
“Don’t say?”
“And you, hostile 17, what kind of anomaly is a vampire?”
“It’s Spike or William the Bloody if you want to be formal.” He leered. “But I think we’re past polite formalities, don’t you? Never heard of a vampire before?”
494 nodded 'yes' as he answered, “In fairytales, from guards, about anomalies that killed and drained blood from their victims.”
Hostile 17, Spike, shifted his face once again. “Not a fairytale. You’re looking at the genuine article. I’m a vampire, the bloody eavesdropper next cell over is a vampire-though an inferior minion.”
Then he grinned, his face more angelic when the one he had referred to protested.
“Oi, shut it mate. So no watcher or slayer, just lots of soldier boys like you. So what does this Manticore want with vampires and demons?”
494 didn’t quite understand what a demon was, but shrugged and answered anyways. “Probably the same as all the other anomalies in the prison basement; for parts or to experiment on. It’s best to follow orders.” He trailed off as he recalled different stories he had heard over the years about those who were taken to the basement. Still he had a nagging thought: was it best? Was life any better to meekly follow Manticore’s orders? To stand by and just be the anomaly’s food source, to be like Ben…
Spike interrupted his wandering thoughts and added condescendingly, “Yes, I can see how well that works. However, now that I have someone to nibble on,” he smiled maliciously, and advanced, “waste not, want not…”
Spike anchored his hand firmly around 494’s neck, pulling his body closer as he guided him back against the wall. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, 494 did, and watched the vampire shift. At that moment, he had sudden clarity; submitting wouldn’t make his life any better. It was exactly what his clone did every day. He shuddered at the thought of being like Ben and started to struggle within the anomaly's grasp.
The anomaly snickered, and tightened his grip. “Fight or don’t fight, not going to change the fact that I’m going to take what I want from you.”
494 saw the truth in the anomaly’s yellow eyes and knew it would be futile, that he wouldn’t be able to stop him, but 494 had made the decision to fight-to do everything he could to distinguish himself from his twined clone-and doubled his efforts.
Spike crushed his body against him, hands clasping hard around 494’s wrists, forcibly stilling his struggles. He felt blunt teeth clamp down just above the previous wound, pulling harshly on the skin as Spike easily shook his neck. The behavior was animalistic, exhibiting his dominance. Disoriented as a result, 494 had no time to react as Spike let go, and pain immediately followed as he felt a sharpness pierce his neck, then a pulling sensation as Spike drank his blood.
Over the course of the week and the days following, it was the same. At every feeding 494 fought Spike. Not that it was much of a fight. Between the blood loss and his lack of strength-due to the fact he refused to eat, and more importantly, had stopped drinking the milk-the weaker 494 got.
After the first few days, Spike tried to force feed him-it didn’t work. Anything Spike forced down 494’s throat, he’d just vomit back up. Each day he became weaker, and eventually started to get sick. Spike, for his part, tapered off his feedings and drank less and less at each encounter. What was worse, whether he liked it or not, Spike would forcibly hold him, sometimes even rocking him as he’d tell him stories of his dark princess and what he called his glorified days as one of the Scourge of Europe with his poof Sire Angelus.
494 didn’t understand why, but he hated that the most- the way Spike was gentle and coddled him.
Each time he’d go through the motions of struggling. It didn’t matter if it was when Spike tried to force feed him or whenever he’d feed off of him. Through it all, 494 kept a silent chant, telling himself that Spike was only trying to protect his food source. However, each gentle caress and each story Spike told was in direct contradiction to that mantra.
Into the second week-whether it was results based on the last batch of blood work they took, that they finally caught on, or suddenly appeared to care about his current condition-Renfro and several guards arrived to remove him from the cell.
Unable to do anything else but observe, 494 watched, emotionally detached, the strange oddity as Spike fought to keep him. For his effort, Spike was shot with a tranquilizer. Even drugged, he cursed and ranted that they had a deal. Everyone ignored him as they hauled 494 out of the cell-far too weak to walk on his own.
He was barely aware they had dragged him off to cy-ops for reconditioning.
At one point he dreamt they brought in Ben and had hooked him up for a transfusion, like he had done for Ben. Only this time Ben was the stronger one. In the dream, after they hooked up the transfusion, they left them alone, and Ben had begged him to hang on, to be strong, that he needed him. Ben had even made him promise he wouldn’t leave him alone. 494 couldn’t understand why his clone cared or would even want to. Nevertheless Ben appeared so earnest and clasped his hand as if he understood, something that didn't seem possible to 494-not when he hated Ben, hated the weakness his twin represented. Yet he surrendered to his twin’s wishes, even returning Ben’s gesture as he squeezed his hand harder. It felt strange, his feelings conflicted; their roles suddenly reversed, where he was the weak, defective twin.
When he woke, he stopped struggling and took the needed supplements to regain his strength whenever they prompted him.
His indoctrination didn’t take long since he had already been in a weakened state. A slate of rudimentary words and principles replayed in his head: mission, duty, discipline, and loyalty. Each resonated with Manticore’s manifesto for every X5 to be a good, obedient soldier. He had barely reached half of his physical strength before he was deemed fit enough to return to his cell with orders to eat and drink whatever they provided to obtain his mission goal: to properly furnish the anomaly’s daily diet of blood.
Although weak, 494 had gained enough strength to walk under his own power when he re-entered the cell.
Spike stood, but stayed where he was at the back of the cell when he walked in. 494 knew Spike had to be starved, something the medical techs had happily informed him when they escorted him out of cy-ops, eager to see the anomaly feed off of him. He had expected Spike to attack him like he did the first day. Instead, he stood there, leery, looking past him to their audience.
It was plain Spike didn’t trust them, but 494 had his orders and a mission to accomplish. 494 moved to the center of the cell and slowly dropped to his knees in submission, tilting his neck in open invitation.
In game-face, Spike snarled at their audience, but moved toward him. One moment Spike was stalking toward him, the next he felt Spike’s fangs enter, re-establishing his mark. He waited, expecting Spike to drink, but instead he just held him close, his fangs deeply impaled in his skin, giving their audience the illusion he was feeding. For the first time 494 didn’t struggle, and submitted to Spike’s direction as he lay limply in Spike’s grasp.
Spike seemed to be waiting for something; it wasn’t until long after their audience left that he retracted his fangs and physically dragged him into a corner. Then he looked in 494's eyes expectantly, his hands clinically roaming his body. “Pet, you in there? Or did they break you?”
He wanted to laugh at that, as he was hit with an epiphany, realizing for the first time that like Ben he had always been broken-how could Manticore break what was never right in the first place? He shook his head, “I have orders, my mission to make sure you feed.”
“Pfft, bloody nice of ‘em. They drug you?”
“Reconditioned. I have orders to eat and drink whatever they offer me, to maintain my health in order to supply your nourishment. You didn’t feed. You need to feed.”
“They broke you.” It wasn’t a question, but Spike’s hand caressed his neck, then tilted it to the side before he leaned in to lick over the mark. 494 felt the vibration of Spike’s voice before he spoke. “Have to fix that.” Without any further hesitation his fangs descended. This time Spike fed.
Reflexively, 494 held his silence and waited until he was needed. During the first couple of days Spike fed every few hours. After his initial feeding, he didn’t take a lot blood, only a sip here and there. However, Spike periodically descended his fangs and punctured into 494's neck while he held him tight. Said he was Spike’s meal to train not theirs. 494 didn’t understand as he lay under Spike’s weight. He didn’t need to be trained; he was already submissive, pliant to Spike’s needs, his hunger.
By the fifth day, Spike started to pace in the cell, ranting about how he preferred his blood heated, not limp like one of Drusilla’s dolls. For emphasis, he started to kick 494’s feet, egging 494 to get up and fight him.
Slowly, 494 did as was ordered and stood. Amused, Spike grinned, even as he bounced on his feet, circling him. Then he reached out intermittently to pinch, jab, or cuff 494 on the head. When he didn’t respond, Spike increased the number of strikes along with the strength behind each blow, determined to provoke a reaction.
494 stood there, his eyes following Spike’s movements. Involuntary, his head fell forward with the momentum of Spike’s slap. 494 glared, and Spike did it again, then again. On the fourth turn, he reached out and blocked Spike’s hand.
Spike easily spun and followed with a punch, then danced about. “Wot, not quick enough pet. Huh, that it, you no longer a super kitty? Still taste like one…”
He didn’t know why Spike wanted to fight, but it didn’t matter as he readied himself to deflect Spike’s attack. They danced around each other, fighting until 494 had built up a good sweat. Once Spike tired of the game, he easily pushed and held 494 against the wall and sunk in his fangs into 494’s mark, drawing blood. He was confused and angry, when Spike pulled back to look into his eyes, gauging what he saw. Abruptly, he announced, “An improvement, but you can do better.”
After that, before Spike would feed, they’d fight. 494’s agility and physical strength improved with each session. Though Spike continued to bait him, 494 started to grasp it was more a performance for the cameras rather than a retaliation directed at him. Throughout each session Spike appeared to be assessing his abilities, changing and increasing the level of difficulty.
Still, 494 stayed within the parameters of his mission and continued to follow Manticore’s orders, eating whatever they delivered, but now with the physical exertion of their sparring, 494 ate and drank as if he was ravished.
In-between and throughout their bouts, Spike started to intermingle physical contact, elusive touches designed to get a different response. Outwardly to Renfro or anyone else watching, their movements were too fast for a typical human. They wouldn’t see where Spike’s hand lingered, where his fingers caressed, or how he’d press in tighter, holding a clench. Again, 494 didn’t understand why, only that his body did respond, where he’d feel and ride waves of pleasure that settled straight in his groin.
Spike knew and would up the ante, choreographing a new series of illicit moves. Until he tired of the game and took another bite, holding 494 tight as he pulled long swallows, driving him into a frenzy of sexual want.
Pausing, Spike forced 494’s neck to stretch as his thumb brushed over the mark. He didn’t know why, but 494 shivered in anticipation. Spike’s thumb added pressure as he pressed down then scraped his nail between the two puncture marks, intensifying the feeling.
“Look at me.”
Dizzy, caught between pleasure and pain, 494 obeyed and opened eyes he hadn’t realized he had closed. He felt his back hit the wall even as Spike pushed him down until his ass hit the ground, his knees bent. Spike stepped in closer, a foot planted on the outside of each thigh. 494’s knees collapsed in a sprawl.
Spike chuckled, pleased by whatever he saw looking into 494’s eyes. Slowly, Spike lowered himself, straddling 494’s body and sitting down in 494’s lap. His fingers gently danced over his neck. On instinct obeying an order Spike didn’t voice, 494 silently offered his neck. He didn’t have long to wait as Spike accepted the invitation and sunk his fangs in and resumed feeding.
Although this was less about feeding as Spike set a leisurely pace. The pull heightened 494’s need and settled in his gut, his cock stirring to life. Spike continued suckling, his thighs pressing 494’s closed, adding a spiral of pleasure, grinding against his hard cock, spurring sexual feelings 494 had rarely ever felt before Spike.
Intellectually, 494 understood what was happening-he was aroused. His penis had filled with blood making it hard and erect. Soon, if Spike didn’t stop, he was going to ejaculate, something he remembered doing a few times when he had been allowed. However, all but the one time with Rachel, any sexual release was achieved in the lab, under supervision, to collect his sperm sample.
Unlike Rachel’s delicate, unsure touch, Spike touched with purpose. Till that moment, it had been only Spike’s mouth that continued to feed; his hips inched forward and rolled, brushing up against 494’s hard cock. He muttered for Spike to stop, his voice trembling under the effort. Spike ignored his protest until he snapped and lost control. He struggled under Spike’s touch to push back, to touch, needing to connect and feel Spike’s hard cock.
This, what Spike was doing to him, made 494 feel things he had never felt before. Overly excited, 494 arched up, his hands gripped hard on Spike’s hips pulling him down as he needed more friction.
Lazily, Spike spoke. “Not yet.” Spike’s body was practically draped over his, his face buried in the crook of his neck as he licked over the wound. 494 could feel the tip of his tongue dart over the puncture wounds, keeping him on edge. Spike leaned back enough that 494 could see his mouth hanging open; his fangs extended, the tips were coated drip in red, the same red that outlined his lips. Belatedly he realized it was blood-his blood. “Taste good pet. Fancy a taste?”
494 didn’t have time to answer before Spike’s mouth was over his. Spike’s tongue thrust deep between his lips, digging and exploring the dark recesses of 494’s mouth. Spike dominated the kiss, not just with his tongue, but with his hands, as they anchored and held 494’s head in place as he pushed and devoured 494’s mouth.
He could taste the blood and swallowed. Spike’s tongue danced beside his own tongue then flitted over his teeth to lavish attention on each tooth and crevice within his mouth leaving 494 feverish. He continued the assault long after 494 was breathless. Spike finally pulled away, more out curiosity than anything else, but it allowed 494 to breathe.
For Spike’s part, he didn’t even appear to be winded, as 494 struggled to inhale over the attack. Spike grinned like 494 had given him a gift. “Right, better than human.” He leaned in to lick his tongue over 494’s swollen lips and then up over his face and jaw. Spike trailed a path up to his ear, nibbling and tugging on his earlobe. “Hear me pet?”
He made an effort to answer, but his throat was too dry and only a feeble grunt escaped. “No not with words. Wrap your hand around my hips, press your thumbs in hard for a yes, your fingers for no-understand?”
It took 494 a moment to understand what Spike said, never mind the instructions Spike had requested. Slowly, 494 responded and squeezed his thumbs hard into Spike’s hips. Spike was quick to praise. “That’s my boy. You want that don’t you, to be my boy?”
He didn’t hesitate, and repeated the gesture, pressing his thumbs hard into Spike’s hip.
Spike moved, his hand caressed and tilted 494’s head back to expose his throat, then gripped his chin until piercing blue eyes met his. Spike had changed back and pursed his stained lips. “Oi, you are a nummy treat.” His forehead leaned against 494’s forehead, then under his breath, for 494’s ears only, said, “Just might have to keep you.”
494 didn’t have time to consider what that meant, as he watched Spike’s thumbnail dig deep enough to cut into his chest near his nipple until was steadily bleeding. Spike’s hand clamped over the back of his neck and guided him-his lips- to Spike’s chest. Spike bowed his head until longer wisps of hair fell. He heard an order. “Lick the cut.”
He was confused, but opened his mouth to allow his tongue to peek out and gave a tentative lick. He felt what started as a gentle caress as Spike’s fingers combed through his hair, encouraging him. “Don’t stop.”
With each swallow, his pulse raced, until 494 couldn’t hear anything else, only the rush of his own blood hitting a crescendo, and he whimpered in need- then everything exploded as he came.
It was seconds, minutes, or hours later-494 couldn’t guess-before he opened his eyes again and realized he was still on the floor in the same position he had awakened to last time, with his head rested in Spike’s lap.
“Bout time, thought I lost you, pet, coming and passing out before we even had any real fun.” Spike sounded annoyed, but his eyes danced with delight. “‘Spect it’s been awhile, coming that hard--tasted good though.” Suggestively he smacked his lips.
494 blushed. Spike chuckled, “S’okay pet, we’ll work on your stamina. Now, tell me how do you feel?” Spike’s cool hand continued its descent, soothingly caressing down 494’s torso from stern to belly. But as he opened his mouth to tell him, Spike held a finger over his lips. “Shhh…” But waited expectantly as fingers threaded through 494’s hair.
494 blinked, puzzled, then remembered what Spike had asked him to do earlier, to only use hands signals. Believing he understood, 494 twisted around in Spike’s lap to signal an answer.
Spike sighed, “Not necessary pet,” and stood, pacing the room.
494 watched him, more mystified than ever. Somehow he had messed up and had disappointed Spike. What was even more perplexing to him was why he even cared. And he did care. However, that was part of the problem, since the emotion wasn’t a requirement for his mission. Feeling such emotions felt foreign. 494 had never had a unit, had always been solitary because they had made him that way. He had been trained to be a covert assassin, had learned how to get close to his target without getting emotionally attached-until he was assigned to terminate Rachel. It had taken weeks, but she had gotten under his skin, and he had fallen in love with her.
It was just another reason why he was just as defective and worthless as his twin, Ben.
He turned toward Spike and watched as Spike paced the cell. His movements were languid, graceful. However, he wasn't sure that’d explain his reaction to Spike, why he didn’t need Manticore’s orders to willingly submit to Spike. Physically he understood it-Spike was stronger. At first he thought they were evenly matched, but quickly realized that was only because Spike was starved. Once he fed, 494 could feel Spike’s strength building. With regular feedings there was no doubt that between them the vampire was physically stronger. It still didn’t explain why mentally-internally-494 was willing to drop and prostate himself to an anomaly. He didn’t know Spike, wasn’t any more threatened by him than Renfro, and he knew he’d only submit to her out of survival.
Confused, 494 didn’t know what to make of it; what he felt for Spike and was willing to do for him without question. But what really worried him was the realization that his immediate reaction wasn’t out of obedience and a desire to follow his orders, nor was it about survival.
He was sitting up, leaning against the wall when Spike came over and sat down beside him. “Feeling better?” He could only nod a reply. “Good. Need to get out of here, and you’re going to help.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “Can’t wait for them to take you away, but we’re gonna need a diversion. I have a plan, yeah. You just stay like this, defenseless, until they come in, then I’ll attack. Either you join me or stay, but don’t interfere, understand?” On cue, 494 bobbed his head. “Good, now rest,” he ordered, even as he pulled 494 to his side and coaxed him into sleep.
They didn’t have long to wait before he woke to the echoing sound of Renfro’s heels as she approached. Sitting up, 494 realized he was alone. Glancing around, he quickly spotted Spike’s body sprawled out on the floor in the opposite corner, a pool of blood beneath him.
He couldn’t have been more shocked as he just stared at the blood. Sound seemed almost distant when he heard Renfro order the door open and a team inside the cell. A man turned Spike's body over, trying to find the cause of his injury, but as he turned him, Spike attacked. He was swifter than any X5, 494 had seen killing the first man, and dropping his dead body. Spike turned to the other, grabbing him as he ripped into the man’s neck. It wasn’t a bite to feed, but to kill. Spike let go of the body and rushed the door when they tried to close it, growling. Blood dripped off his fangs, the red stained his face and down his body. He rushed the door, attacking the guards. 494 could hear bones breaking, screams intersected with shouts of excitement from prisoners in the other cells.
494 watched, trembling, when Spike suddenly grabbed his head screaming. Finally he moved, rushing to his aid, but was instantly stopped when Renfro quietly ordered, “Stand down.”
She stood over Spike, holding a small box in her hand, and pressed it again. Spike screamed. When his pain had receded, Renfro smiled down at him. “Thank you for the demonstration hostile 17.” Glancing past him to the dead bodies in the cell, she ordered, “Remove them.”
More guards were suddenly there and complied with her order, dragging the bodies out.
Walking around in the cell, she waved the small device she held. “Interesting little device wouldn’t you say, kinda packs a wallop. You see our subsidiary, the Initiative, they caught and tagged you and a few others to be test subjects for this little gizmo. This remote, it just activates the device, a chip that’s been implanted-there is no off button. Normally that’d mean once activated this it’d be worthless, however, whenever I hit this button,” she pushed the button to demonstrate, chuckling as Spike screamed, cradling his head. Over his scream, she continued, “it effectively bypasses its main program. The program itself protects humans. You try to attack or feed off of a human…” She pushed the button again.
“Like I said, interesting, don’t you think?” She leaned over, waiting for Spike to say something, but he only glared. “Now that we understand each other…” She straightened and walked the perimeter of the cell. “What Maggie created here I can only applaud her for, but unfortunately her vision was limited on how to utilize this handy little gadget.” She walked toward the door and glanced over her shoulder, stating, “Let’s just say I have plans. For now, you and your little group of vampires are effectively my prototypes.”
At the door she turned and then looked at him. “Good job, 494. I just might have some other uses for you. For now, your job is to keep him fed. I want him strong, healthy-keep him that way.” The door closed and was locked behind her. It was obvious she was pleased when she pocketed the remote and left.
Once they were alone, Spike sat with his back up against the wall, elbows braced on his knees as his hands cradled his head, trying to soothe himself from the pain. He started to go to Spike, but as soon as he moved, Spike ordered, “Don’t.”
He stopped, frustrated, then quietly moved to the opposite wall and slid down, staring at Spike-waiting.
“Pet?”
494 looked up, belatedly realizing he had dozed off, and looked over at Spike, wondering if he was hungry. Spike was in the same position he had been in before he dozed off-cradling his head, although less intensely, not enough that he didn’t speculated whether or not Spike was still in pain. “It’s alright pet, I’m fine, could use a nibble though. Come over here and sit with me.”
Shaking off the sleep, 494 moved and sat down.
Spike tilted his head to look at 494, however he left his arm where it was crossed, obscuring most of his face from 494- everything but his eyes.
494 met his gaze then turned away feeling guilty. Though he was grateful Spike hadn’t attacked, it didn’t stop him from feeling ashamed of his earlier behavior when he hadn't defended him. He didn’t have a chip controlling his actions, but he was just as trained without a chip. He had been here too long and didn’t know how to break Manticore’s conditioning.
“Pet, look at me.” It was an order; reluctantly 494 did. This time he met and held Spike’s eyes and what he saw there made his stomach flutter. There was no anger or accusation. Instead, Spike’s eyes twinkled with mischief and approval. The flutter in 494’s stomach increased as he continued to stare and bask under the heat of Spike’s gaze.
“Come here let’s have a nibble.”
Eagerly he scooted closer and exposed his neck. Suddenly Spike sprang, and threw him to the ground and took what he had offered. It wasn’t painful like it was the first times, but it also wasn’t as pleasurable as it was last time. “Need to make a show of it pet, we’re being watched. Don’t want her to know that you’re mine just yet. Bint doesn’t know anything about vampires or even her chip. This might protect humans, but blokes like you, altered, doesn’t do anything. She might have chipped me, but she also lost you. We’ll get out of here, pet, trust me.”
494 struggled in vain at each painful pull. It wasn’t until Spike stopped talking that he even wondered how he could have heard him in the first place, since he hadn’t stopped drinking, taking in long pulls of his blood. He heard Spike laugh, ‘Didn’t. Not out loud. They can hear pet, but here…’ Spike flicked a finger on the back of his head then caressed it. ‘Go ahead, ask me a question. Just think it.’
He opened and closed his mouth; the only words he could think of were, when, how.
Spike laughed, ‘after you passed out and I almost drained you. Figured it might come in handy if it worked. Took me a bit to find the connection; probably should have paid more attention when Dru did it. Was one of her parlor tricks that Angelus encouraged, both of ‘em liked to play with their food, to connect with some poor sap, to either excite or terrify them. Would argue for hours on what would taste better. Me, I never saw the point. Blood was blood and tasted the same, to drain ‘em quick or slow, terrified or excited.’
Spike paused both in thought and his suckling. Not that Renfro’s camera would have picked that up as Spike kept his mouth over the puncture wound. Instead of sucking, his tongue played and lingered over the holes. ‘Not worried are you pet, me killing humans?’
494 jerked in Spike’s embrace, about to answer, but Spike nipped him before he spoke out loud. ‘Close your eyes and relax. Let ‘em think you’ve passed out. They know I won’t drain you.’ Spike waited a second then pulled his dead weight closer to him. ‘Now use your thoughts, pet-concentrate.’
‘No. About the killing; were you following orders?’
‘Don’t follow orders, pet, I make them. I’m a master vampire now, earned the right when I killed two Slayers.’
‘Did you before… have to follow orders?”
“We all have to start somewhere. Me, I had to follow my Sire’s orders.’
‘Your Sire? Who was your Sire?’
‘Bit complicated that answer, but officially it’s Drusilla’s mark that Sired me. Problem was Dru’s a bit flighty, and didn’t finish correctly. She brought me to Angelus like one of her broken dolls to fix me. Seems he was feeling generous that day and missed his boy so he finished the job. But anyone asks, you tell ‘em Drusilla’s me proper Sire. Not a word about Angelus, especially now that he’s a bloody pouf.’
‘Pouf?’
‘Yeah, Peaches. Was always a bit of a Nancy, but then the grand pouf went and got himself souled. For now he’s not someone we have to deal with. What we do have to deal with is getting out of here.’
494 wanted to ask more questions, especially about the insinuation that Spike expected they’d have to deal with Angelus. Instead he decided to deal with the pressing matter of breaking out of Manticore. ‘How? There’s too many of them. Even if we get out of section D, we’ll have to deal with X7’s’
‘X7’s?”
‘Clones of one. Annoying little gnats have a different mix in their cocktail.’
‘But not human?’
‘No, not human, but there are too many of them-we wouldn’t be able to kill all of them fast enough and still escape.’
‘Way to kill the fun. Right then, we need a plan. After the bint collects you…’
‘Collects me?’
‘Don’t worry pet, she has plans for you. I can see it in her eyes. Lately, she’s been tracking your every move, doesn’t want to kill you yet. So once she takes you back, you’ll need to figure out how we can get those X7’s out of the way. Then go anywhere that’s not here?”
Worried, 494 forgot himself and shifted. Spike immediately moved himself to cover. ‘What about the…’ He couldn't even think it remembering the pain Spike had experienced.
‘The chip, think we can get out it out while we’re here?’ Spike didn’t wait long before he answered his own question. ‘Didn’t think so. Worry ‘bout that once we’re out of here.’
‘You want me to go,’ he trailed off, afraid of the answer-that once they broke free they’d go their separate ways.
‘Not leaving you, pet. You hear me? Not going to separate from you either. Thing is I’m starting to understand why Dru liked her pets. However, you’re luckier than they ever were; she never kept her pets long. You, I intend on keeping. That a problem?’
Exhaling, feeling suddenly relieved, 494 wasn’t sure why, but Spike’s declaration comforted him. ‘No, it isn’t a problem.’
‘Good.’ Spike followed the affirmation with a small nip on his neck.
His focus shattered as he shuddered. His eyes remained closed just as Spike had ordered him to do; he knew Spike was close, hovering, but lost track, his censors off, and realized he couldn’t detect Spike’s subtle movements. The vampire had no pulse, had no air expel past his lips or over his skin. His touch was cool, against his heated flesh. It was haunting and exhilarating while he blindly waited for Spike’s next thought-his next touch.
Slowly he gathered his own thoughts and silently asked, ‘When do you think she’ll take me?’
‘Don’t know pet, hope sooner than later.’
Thinking about Renfro wanting him for anything scared him, but he didn’t want to admit that to Spike. Changing the subject he asked, ‘Why do you keep calling me pet, instead of 494?’
Spike snorted. ‘Don’t like it, they gave it to you and you're not theirs anymore. ‘Sides, 494 doesn’t have the same connotations as 007 now does it? And you’re more than just me lunch. If you want, we can think of a new name?’
494 didn’t know who 007 was, but couldn’t have been happier that Spike wanted him, thought of him as more than just a meal.
When he didn’t answer, Spike asked, ‘Tired pet?’
‘Yes, no…’
‘Shhh, sleep for a few hours. You can think about names tomorrow.’
It wasn’t up for discussion as Spike pulled him closer and spooned behind him, his touch lulling him to sleep.
The following days fell into a routine. Each morning a medical tech was there to collect new samples-this time they took samples from both of them. Every day someone would appear with a tray of food that 494 was meant to eat throughout the day, along with a large pitcher of milk spiked with extra tryptophan
They continued to communicate silently. Where Spike retold him stories of the Scourge of Europe, only this time he asked questions, leading Spike to go into graphic detail about his early days with Angelus and Drusilla. Other tales were after Spike lost Angelus to a nancy named Angel, and the adventures he had with Drusilla up to the days just before and after the pulse. Of when he arrived in Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth. Then, sprinkled throughout the day, Spike would offer up some name like George to use other than Pet. Each name was quickly dismissed. He couldn’t explain why exactly, but none of them felt right in his gut. Not that Spike cared since he preferred Pet more than any of his suggestions.
They knew they were being watched. In front of the camera Spike appeared to feed four and five times a day when he only needed to feed well once every few days. However, to whoever was watching, Spike played it up and was aggressive. He abusively pushed 494 around, but each move was a dance Spike choreographed just for Renfro. He enjoyed snarling, yelling that he was the big bad. Bouncing off the walls, screaming for Renfro that when he got out of there he’d kill her, rip her apart and show her exactly why his name was spike.
For his part, 494 submitted: whether it was to let Spike feed from him, or allow Spike to throw him around the cell. That was when 494 realized the big bad was actually skittish about hurting him-that Spike liked him.
The moment 494 thought it, Spike verbally forgot himself and answered, “Pillock!”
Giddy with the knowledge, 494 masked it and egged Spike on, choreographing his own moves so in the skirmish he was effectively bruising himself. It wasn’t until Spike saw how quickly those first bruises healed and disappeared that Spike stopped treating him as if he was a fragile human.
He’d eye Spike warily, showing his disdain any time Spike looked at him. Still, 494 loved the moments Spike would feed from him. It was the only time they were intimately close. By the sixth day, before Spike was able to feed from him, Renfro came to collect him. Spike had been right: Renfro wanted him.
He was briefly sent to cy-ops for a physical evaluation before he was issued his new assignment. A week later, he stood in Renfro’s office where they watched on a monitor as Ben was delivered to Spike. He had to stand there watching as Spike attacked and sunk his teeth into Ben. Saw Ben freely submit and incline his head. His arms encircled Spike’s body as Spike moved him to the floor. There Ben willingly opened his body, entwining his legs with Spike, moaning as his body gyrated under Spike’s, making it obvious to anyone-to him-that Ben was thoroughly enjoying Spike’s attention.
It took everything he had not to react. Apparently his stoic response satisfied Renfro as she turned to business and gave him his new assignment: to be 452’s new breeding partner.
Next~
Part 1
494 hoped this was just another test and wouldn't lead into anything like his clone’s current status as a living harvest for vital organs. To Manticore, all transgenics were considered collateral damage, and they had no concern whether or not he’d survive. After Berrisford, he'd had new accommodations in cy-ops, and been labeled problematic due to his actions regarding his assignment.
In Section D, he was led by Renfro and a medical team of white coats down a long corridor of glass cells, escorted by armed guards. One cell after another housed various anomalies; new anomalies that had been captured and brought in from other facilities. Most huddled in a back corner, though a few stood aggressively and snarled as they passed. When they stopped, he was facing a cell that was occupied. 494 immediately saw a figure curled into a ball on the floor. The white of the gown matched and blurred with the alabaster white skin of its limbs. The medical gown simply covered their mid section; from the crouched position, 494 couldn’t decipher what it was or even its sex. The only distinguishing color was their hair. It was short, just past its neck, in disarray like it was slowly growing out. Streaks of platinum dominated down to the ends, but below that the crown was a darker yellow gold, almost honey wheat in color.
494 didn’t have time to ponder its oddness as the figure abruptly stood snarling, baring its teeth. Blood yellow eyes immediately zeroed in on him as it stared-hungrily.
Abruptly, 494 realized it knew something that he didn’t until that moment-it was starved and he was its dinner. Fear sliced through 494 as he instinctively took a step back, but was stopped and pushed forward by the guards that had accompanied him. Before he knew it, the door opened and they shoved him in.
He had no time to adjust as the anomaly attacked, holding him down even as he struggled and was surprised to find the anomaly’s strength equaled his. The fight only lasted seconds; his shirt ripped as the anomaly used it to pull him forward before it sank its teeth into his jugular. It was painful, savage. For long moments he couldn’t hear anything over his thundering heart. Then 494 heard Renfro’s voice calmly stating to the anomaly that if it drained its food source, they’d only double to triple the amount of time before its next feeding. At first the anomaly didn’t seem to register her announcement, then bit by bit it pulled back, retracting its fangs.
Slowly it let him go, but stayed hunched over him, determined to keep its food. Weakly, Alec fell back to the floor, listening, incapable of doing anything else.
Vaguely, he heard Renfro. “Simply behave and follow my orders. It won’t be a permanent situation, but he’ll stay and be available for scheduled feedings - subject to your cooperation and usefulness. I’ll be back in the morning. I do suggest you allow him to rest and eat the nourishments we’ll provide as he’ll be your only source of food for awhile.”
494 was too tired and couldn’t keep his eyes opened, no longer sure he wasn’t just dreaming when he heard ‘it’ growl a consent as Renfro followed with, “Good. I’m glad we have an understanding.” Then to the medical team she added, “Keep me updated on their status.” Then he heard the hard click of her heels retreating down the corridor accompanied with the entourage he had arrived with.
As the distance increased, 494 heard it; it was definitely male as it cursed above him. “Wankers.” Then it hunched over him, gripping his jaw, moving his head from one side to the other, inspecting him before settling on the wound it had created. 494 wanted to flinch, afraid it was going to ignore Renfro’s orders and finish him off. Instead it licked over the bite before pulling back. It kept his voice low so only 494 could hear. Still, he detected an English accent. “Know you’re not sleeping mate. Have a name?”
494 struggled to answer with his designation, but other than guttural moans he couldn’t muster any energy to do more than that.
He heard a chuckle, “Yeah sorry ‘bout that-well, not really. Bloody labcoats kept me starved. Nearly drained you dry. You’re lucky; unlike my Princess or the bloody poof, I’m not in the habit of keeping or playing with my food. However, under the circumstances,” he trailed off, then ordered, “Sleep. Need to keep you for a bit.” 494 felt fingers sweep over his face in a gentle caress. “I’ll wake you if they keep their word and bring refreshments.” 494 didn’t want to follow the order, but his body had other ideas as sleep claimed his body.
Waking, 494 wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when he opened his eyes. He was still sprawled out on the floor, only his head was resting comfortably in the anomaly’s lap. One hand swept up over his stomach while the other caressed his face, a thumb sweeping up over his lip when it asked, “Hungry?”
It took 494 a moment to realize he was bare-chested. Before the anomaly could stop him, Alec rolled, turned and landed in a crouch on his feet, defensive and ready as he faced the anomaly.
The anomaly smirked. “Neat trick.” To the side of him sat a tray with food and a few tall glasses of what appeared to be milk. The anomaly picked up one glass, sniffing it before he offered it to 494. “Doesn’t appear to be drugged.”
494 continued to stare. However, using his peripheral vision, he explored his surroundings even as he recalled how he'd ended up in the cell. Renfro.
“Take it mate, need you to replenish some that sweet elixir, I’m gonna want to take another nibble soon.” His head tilted and he held the glass out, silently demanding 494 take it.
Unable to think of a reason to decline without forcing the anomaly or Renfro’s retaliation, he accepted the glass of milk. The anomaly said it wasn’t drugged, but he could taste the extra spike of tryptophan. He could only guess Manticore was trying to supplement his blood loss after the anomaly’s extraction.
When he finished the first glass, the anomaly asked, “So what are you?”
494 didn’t answer but retorted, “Could ask the same.” His nostrils flared, unable to hide his disgust for Manticore’s anomalies. “You’re definitely not human.” He took in the anomaly’s innocent features and added, “Even if you look like it now.”
“Oi, you mean this?” Suddenly the anomaly moved, standing, and as swiftly as any X5, effortlessly pulled and shoved him against the wall. Alec dropped the tumbler. The anomaly leaned in closer, his face shifting to reveal ridges over his brows and yellow eyes, and glared at him. His fangs dropped.
“Me? I’m your worst nightmare mate, a vampire. And you? Besides being a convenient walking happy meal, what are you? Where are we? What is this place? Some underground Watcher facility? Is Slutty here?”
494’s eyes widened when he heard the anomaly identify himself as a vampire, something he had only heard about from fairytales. The vampire grinned, pleased he was getting through to him. Still, his hand tightened around his throat, demonstrating its increased strength and lifted him off the ground. Then someone from another cell yelled out, “Don’t kill him, he was one of them, you can use him to get out of here.”
“That right? You one of them? Must‘ve been a very bad boy if they're willing to let me drain you.” Ever so slowly he lowered 494 enough so he could touch the ground and stand on his own. It maintained its grip around his neck, but eased up enough that 494 could answer its questions. “Now let’s start at the beginning shall we? What’s your name and what are you?”
“My designation is X5-494, X5 series.”
“Designation? X what? Never mind that, where the hell are we?”
Another voice broke into the conversation, saying, “Go ahead 494, tell him.”
At Renfro’s voice, the anomaly’s hold relaxed and he patted 494's neck before he twisted and looked over his shoulder to see Renfro standing in front of his cell with two medical assistants beside her.
494 obeyed her order and choked out. “We’re at Manticore.”
He licked his lips as the anomaly released his hold, then fully, almost casually, he turned around to face Renfro, but stayed directly in front of 494. 494 was confused by the defensive move as the anomaly appeared to use his body to shield him from Renfro -- then it occurred to 494 he was protecting his food source.
He couldn’t see the anomaly’s face, but Renfro was clearly pleased and smiled. “Well, well, look at you hostile 17. Seems 494 was a good choice after all and sated your appetite.”
The anomaly, hostile 17, growled.
“Humph, not really interested in your posturing. However, for the moment, we do have a deal…” She nodded to one of the techs behind her, and they moved toward the cell and opened a small window that simultaneously extended an acrylic shelf, making it easier to push the tray they were holding through. Renfro didn’t mince with words as she ordered, “Fill both vials of blood. Do it yourself or have 494 do it. Refuse or hesitate, I’ll rescind my offer, take it by force, and then permanently remove 494.”
For a moment, the anomaly didn’t move, and 494 understood with sudden clarity his days were numbered. Renfro had no intention of ever allowing him to return to the freedoms he had previous to the Berrisford assignment. It’d be this: living as hostile 17's food source, or life like his twin, a living incubator.
The decision was out of his hands as hostile 17 moved toward the tray and quickly injected a needle, filling the vial with his blood, then quickly did the same with the second vial. “Good. Once I have the results, we’ll have a little Q &A.” She glanced behind hostile 17 and met 494's gaze, her lips curling into a small smile. “Bon appétit,” she said, and left.
Silence followed until hostile 17 smashed his fist against the glass, roaring his anger and ignoring the pain as he was zapped by the electrified force field.
“Fucking bint’s dead when I get out of here!”
494 snorted.
Hostile 17 growled out and stared 494 down. “Think that’s funny?”
“Under the circumstances... yeah.”
Hostile 17’s face fell at his words quiet. “Don’t worry pet, not grand standing but a promise.”
494 only nodded, recognizing it as truth.
Hostile 17 walked up and stepped into his personal space and asked, “Now where were we? Oh yeah. We established your designation is X5 494, correct?” 494 tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Alright, and we’re in Manticore, yeah? So what the bloody hell is Manticore?”
494 shrugged and looked around like being there was self explanatory.
“Right, let’s back up a few steps. What about watchers, the Slayer they around here somewhere?”
494 had no idea who or what a watcher or slayer was. Hostile 17 leaned towards his neck and hovered there, then licked over the bite he had created earlier, sending shivers down 494’s spine. Stepping back he asked, “But you’re one of them, or were, right? But somehow you screwed up bad enough that you’re in here with me-why is that, what did you do?”
“I failed to eliminate my assigned targets.”
“An assassin then. Hmmm, and what are you inside? You’re not exactly human.” The anomaly sinuously licked his lips before continuing, “You taste different. Similar to one of Dru’s kittens; you a cat?”
494 sneered, then straighten his shoulders and stood proudly, nodding as he explained, “Manticore’s x-series, a transgenic; my DNA was spliced with non-humans, a high percentage of feline to create a super soldier to enhance various abilities: intelligence, hearing, sight, strength. We’re better, improved.”
“Don’t say?”
“And you, hostile 17, what kind of anomaly is a vampire?”
“It’s Spike or William the Bloody if you want to be formal.” He leered. “But I think we’re past polite formalities, don’t you? Never heard of a vampire before?”
494 nodded 'yes' as he answered, “In fairytales, from guards, about anomalies that killed and drained blood from their victims.”
Hostile 17, Spike, shifted his face once again. “Not a fairytale. You’re looking at the genuine article. I’m a vampire, the bloody eavesdropper next cell over is a vampire-though an inferior minion.”
Then he grinned, his face more angelic when the one he had referred to protested.
“Oi, shut it mate. So no watcher or slayer, just lots of soldier boys like you. So what does this Manticore want with vampires and demons?”
494 didn’t quite understand what a demon was, but shrugged and answered anyways. “Probably the same as all the other anomalies in the prison basement; for parts or to experiment on. It’s best to follow orders.” He trailed off as he recalled different stories he had heard over the years about those who were taken to the basement. Still he had a nagging thought: was it best? Was life any better to meekly follow Manticore’s orders? To stand by and just be the anomaly’s food source, to be like Ben…
Spike interrupted his wandering thoughts and added condescendingly, “Yes, I can see how well that works. However, now that I have someone to nibble on,” he smiled maliciously, and advanced, “waste not, want not…”
Spike anchored his hand firmly around 494’s neck, pulling his body closer as he guided him back against the wall. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, 494 did, and watched the vampire shift. At that moment, he had sudden clarity; submitting wouldn’t make his life any better. It was exactly what his clone did every day. He shuddered at the thought of being like Ben and started to struggle within the anomaly's grasp.
The anomaly snickered, and tightened his grip. “Fight or don’t fight, not going to change the fact that I’m going to take what I want from you.”
494 saw the truth in the anomaly’s yellow eyes and knew it would be futile, that he wouldn’t be able to stop him, but 494 had made the decision to fight-to do everything he could to distinguish himself from his twined clone-and doubled his efforts.
Spike crushed his body against him, hands clasping hard around 494’s wrists, forcibly stilling his struggles. He felt blunt teeth clamp down just above the previous wound, pulling harshly on the skin as Spike easily shook his neck. The behavior was animalistic, exhibiting his dominance. Disoriented as a result, 494 had no time to react as Spike let go, and pain immediately followed as he felt a sharpness pierce his neck, then a pulling sensation as Spike drank his blood.
Over the course of the week and the days following, it was the same. At every feeding 494 fought Spike. Not that it was much of a fight. Between the blood loss and his lack of strength-due to the fact he refused to eat, and more importantly, had stopped drinking the milk-the weaker 494 got.
After the first few days, Spike tried to force feed him-it didn’t work. Anything Spike forced down 494’s throat, he’d just vomit back up. Each day he became weaker, and eventually started to get sick. Spike, for his part, tapered off his feedings and drank less and less at each encounter. What was worse, whether he liked it or not, Spike would forcibly hold him, sometimes even rocking him as he’d tell him stories of his dark princess and what he called his glorified days as one of the Scourge of Europe with his poof Sire Angelus.
494 didn’t understand why, but he hated that the most- the way Spike was gentle and coddled him.
Each time he’d go through the motions of struggling. It didn’t matter if it was when Spike tried to force feed him or whenever he’d feed off of him. Through it all, 494 kept a silent chant, telling himself that Spike was only trying to protect his food source. However, each gentle caress and each story Spike told was in direct contradiction to that mantra.
Into the second week-whether it was results based on the last batch of blood work they took, that they finally caught on, or suddenly appeared to care about his current condition-Renfro and several guards arrived to remove him from the cell.
Unable to do anything else but observe, 494 watched, emotionally detached, the strange oddity as Spike fought to keep him. For his effort, Spike was shot with a tranquilizer. Even drugged, he cursed and ranted that they had a deal. Everyone ignored him as they hauled 494 out of the cell-far too weak to walk on his own.
He was barely aware they had dragged him off to cy-ops for reconditioning.
At one point he dreamt they brought in Ben and had hooked him up for a transfusion, like he had done for Ben. Only this time Ben was the stronger one. In the dream, after they hooked up the transfusion, they left them alone, and Ben had begged him to hang on, to be strong, that he needed him. Ben had even made him promise he wouldn’t leave him alone. 494 couldn’t understand why his clone cared or would even want to. Nevertheless Ben appeared so earnest and clasped his hand as if he understood, something that didn't seem possible to 494-not when he hated Ben, hated the weakness his twin represented. Yet he surrendered to his twin’s wishes, even returning Ben’s gesture as he squeezed his hand harder. It felt strange, his feelings conflicted; their roles suddenly reversed, where he was the weak, defective twin.
When he woke, he stopped struggling and took the needed supplements to regain his strength whenever they prompted him.
His indoctrination didn’t take long since he had already been in a weakened state. A slate of rudimentary words and principles replayed in his head: mission, duty, discipline, and loyalty. Each resonated with Manticore’s manifesto for every X5 to be a good, obedient soldier. He had barely reached half of his physical strength before he was deemed fit enough to return to his cell with orders to eat and drink whatever they provided to obtain his mission goal: to properly furnish the anomaly’s daily diet of blood.
Although weak, 494 had gained enough strength to walk under his own power when he re-entered the cell.
Spike stood, but stayed where he was at the back of the cell when he walked in. 494 knew Spike had to be starved, something the medical techs had happily informed him when they escorted him out of cy-ops, eager to see the anomaly feed off of him. He had expected Spike to attack him like he did the first day. Instead, he stood there, leery, looking past him to their audience.
It was plain Spike didn’t trust them, but 494 had his orders and a mission to accomplish. 494 moved to the center of the cell and slowly dropped to his knees in submission, tilting his neck in open invitation.
In game-face, Spike snarled at their audience, but moved toward him. One moment Spike was stalking toward him, the next he felt Spike’s fangs enter, re-establishing his mark. He waited, expecting Spike to drink, but instead he just held him close, his fangs deeply impaled in his skin, giving their audience the illusion he was feeding. For the first time 494 didn’t struggle, and submitted to Spike’s direction as he lay limply in Spike’s grasp.
Spike seemed to be waiting for something; it wasn’t until long after their audience left that he retracted his fangs and physically dragged him into a corner. Then he looked in 494's eyes expectantly, his hands clinically roaming his body. “Pet, you in there? Or did they break you?”
He wanted to laugh at that, as he was hit with an epiphany, realizing for the first time that like Ben he had always been broken-how could Manticore break what was never right in the first place? He shook his head, “I have orders, my mission to make sure you feed.”
“Pfft, bloody nice of ‘em. They drug you?”
“Reconditioned. I have orders to eat and drink whatever they offer me, to maintain my health in order to supply your nourishment. You didn’t feed. You need to feed.”
“They broke you.” It wasn’t a question, but Spike’s hand caressed his neck, then tilted it to the side before he leaned in to lick over the mark. 494 felt the vibration of Spike’s voice before he spoke. “Have to fix that.” Without any further hesitation his fangs descended. This time Spike fed.
Reflexively, 494 held his silence and waited until he was needed. During the first couple of days Spike fed every few hours. After his initial feeding, he didn’t take a lot blood, only a sip here and there. However, Spike periodically descended his fangs and punctured into 494's neck while he held him tight. Said he was Spike’s meal to train not theirs. 494 didn’t understand as he lay under Spike’s weight. He didn’t need to be trained; he was already submissive, pliant to Spike’s needs, his hunger.
By the fifth day, Spike started to pace in the cell, ranting about how he preferred his blood heated, not limp like one of Drusilla’s dolls. For emphasis, he started to kick 494’s feet, egging 494 to get up and fight him.
Slowly, 494 did as was ordered and stood. Amused, Spike grinned, even as he bounced on his feet, circling him. Then he reached out intermittently to pinch, jab, or cuff 494 on the head. When he didn’t respond, Spike increased the number of strikes along with the strength behind each blow, determined to provoke a reaction.
494 stood there, his eyes following Spike’s movements. Involuntary, his head fell forward with the momentum of Spike’s slap. 494 glared, and Spike did it again, then again. On the fourth turn, he reached out and blocked Spike’s hand.
Spike easily spun and followed with a punch, then danced about. “Wot, not quick enough pet. Huh, that it, you no longer a super kitty? Still taste like one…”
He didn’t know why Spike wanted to fight, but it didn’t matter as he readied himself to deflect Spike’s attack. They danced around each other, fighting until 494 had built up a good sweat. Once Spike tired of the game, he easily pushed and held 494 against the wall and sunk in his fangs into 494’s mark, drawing blood. He was confused and angry, when Spike pulled back to look into his eyes, gauging what he saw. Abruptly, he announced, “An improvement, but you can do better.”
After that, before Spike would feed, they’d fight. 494’s agility and physical strength improved with each session. Though Spike continued to bait him, 494 started to grasp it was more a performance for the cameras rather than a retaliation directed at him. Throughout each session Spike appeared to be assessing his abilities, changing and increasing the level of difficulty.
Still, 494 stayed within the parameters of his mission and continued to follow Manticore’s orders, eating whatever they delivered, but now with the physical exertion of their sparring, 494 ate and drank as if he was ravished.
In-between and throughout their bouts, Spike started to intermingle physical contact, elusive touches designed to get a different response. Outwardly to Renfro or anyone else watching, their movements were too fast for a typical human. They wouldn’t see where Spike’s hand lingered, where his fingers caressed, or how he’d press in tighter, holding a clench. Again, 494 didn’t understand why, only that his body did respond, where he’d feel and ride waves of pleasure that settled straight in his groin.
Spike knew and would up the ante, choreographing a new series of illicit moves. Until he tired of the game and took another bite, holding 494 tight as he pulled long swallows, driving him into a frenzy of sexual want.
Pausing, Spike forced 494’s neck to stretch as his thumb brushed over the mark. He didn’t know why, but 494 shivered in anticipation. Spike’s thumb added pressure as he pressed down then scraped his nail between the two puncture marks, intensifying the feeling.
“Look at me.”
Dizzy, caught between pleasure and pain, 494 obeyed and opened eyes he hadn’t realized he had closed. He felt his back hit the wall even as Spike pushed him down until his ass hit the ground, his knees bent. Spike stepped in closer, a foot planted on the outside of each thigh. 494’s knees collapsed in a sprawl.
Spike chuckled, pleased by whatever he saw looking into 494’s eyes. Slowly, Spike lowered himself, straddling 494’s body and sitting down in 494’s lap. His fingers gently danced over his neck. On instinct obeying an order Spike didn’t voice, 494 silently offered his neck. He didn’t have long to wait as Spike accepted the invitation and sunk his fangs in and resumed feeding.
Although this was less about feeding as Spike set a leisurely pace. The pull heightened 494’s need and settled in his gut, his cock stirring to life. Spike continued suckling, his thighs pressing 494’s closed, adding a spiral of pleasure, grinding against his hard cock, spurring sexual feelings 494 had rarely ever felt before Spike.
Intellectually, 494 understood what was happening-he was aroused. His penis had filled with blood making it hard and erect. Soon, if Spike didn’t stop, he was going to ejaculate, something he remembered doing a few times when he had been allowed. However, all but the one time with Rachel, any sexual release was achieved in the lab, under supervision, to collect his sperm sample.
Unlike Rachel’s delicate, unsure touch, Spike touched with purpose. Till that moment, it had been only Spike’s mouth that continued to feed; his hips inched forward and rolled, brushing up against 494’s hard cock. He muttered for Spike to stop, his voice trembling under the effort. Spike ignored his protest until he snapped and lost control. He struggled under Spike’s touch to push back, to touch, needing to connect and feel Spike’s hard cock.
This, what Spike was doing to him, made 494 feel things he had never felt before. Overly excited, 494 arched up, his hands gripped hard on Spike’s hips pulling him down as he needed more friction.
Lazily, Spike spoke. “Not yet.” Spike’s body was practically draped over his, his face buried in the crook of his neck as he licked over the wound. 494 could feel the tip of his tongue dart over the puncture wounds, keeping him on edge. Spike leaned back enough that 494 could see his mouth hanging open; his fangs extended, the tips were coated drip in red, the same red that outlined his lips. Belatedly he realized it was blood-his blood. “Taste good pet. Fancy a taste?”
494 didn’t have time to answer before Spike’s mouth was over his. Spike’s tongue thrust deep between his lips, digging and exploring the dark recesses of 494’s mouth. Spike dominated the kiss, not just with his tongue, but with his hands, as they anchored and held 494’s head in place as he pushed and devoured 494’s mouth.
He could taste the blood and swallowed. Spike’s tongue danced beside his own tongue then flitted over his teeth to lavish attention on each tooth and crevice within his mouth leaving 494 feverish. He continued the assault long after 494 was breathless. Spike finally pulled away, more out curiosity than anything else, but it allowed 494 to breathe.
For Spike’s part, he didn’t even appear to be winded, as 494 struggled to inhale over the attack. Spike grinned like 494 had given him a gift. “Right, better than human.” He leaned in to lick his tongue over 494’s swollen lips and then up over his face and jaw. Spike trailed a path up to his ear, nibbling and tugging on his earlobe. “Hear me pet?”
He made an effort to answer, but his throat was too dry and only a feeble grunt escaped. “No not with words. Wrap your hand around my hips, press your thumbs in hard for a yes, your fingers for no-understand?”
It took 494 a moment to understand what Spike said, never mind the instructions Spike had requested. Slowly, 494 responded and squeezed his thumbs hard into Spike’s hips. Spike was quick to praise. “That’s my boy. You want that don’t you, to be my boy?”
He didn’t hesitate, and repeated the gesture, pressing his thumbs hard into Spike’s hip.
Spike moved, his hand caressed and tilted 494’s head back to expose his throat, then gripped his chin until piercing blue eyes met his. Spike had changed back and pursed his stained lips. “Oi, you are a nummy treat.” His forehead leaned against 494’s forehead, then under his breath, for 494’s ears only, said, “Just might have to keep you.”
494 didn’t have time to consider what that meant, as he watched Spike’s thumbnail dig deep enough to cut into his chest near his nipple until was steadily bleeding. Spike’s hand clamped over the back of his neck and guided him-his lips- to Spike’s chest. Spike bowed his head until longer wisps of hair fell. He heard an order. “Lick the cut.”
He was confused, but opened his mouth to allow his tongue to peek out and gave a tentative lick. He felt what started as a gentle caress as Spike’s fingers combed through his hair, encouraging him. “Don’t stop.”
With each swallow, his pulse raced, until 494 couldn’t hear anything else, only the rush of his own blood hitting a crescendo, and he whimpered in need- then everything exploded as he came.
It was seconds, minutes, or hours later-494 couldn’t guess-before he opened his eyes again and realized he was still on the floor in the same position he had awakened to last time, with his head rested in Spike’s lap.
“Bout time, thought I lost you, pet, coming and passing out before we even had any real fun.” Spike sounded annoyed, but his eyes danced with delight. “‘Spect it’s been awhile, coming that hard--tasted good though.” Suggestively he smacked his lips.
494 blushed. Spike chuckled, “S’okay pet, we’ll work on your stamina. Now, tell me how do you feel?” Spike’s cool hand continued its descent, soothingly caressing down 494’s torso from stern to belly. But as he opened his mouth to tell him, Spike held a finger over his lips. “Shhh…” But waited expectantly as fingers threaded through 494’s hair.
494 blinked, puzzled, then remembered what Spike had asked him to do earlier, to only use hands signals. Believing he understood, 494 twisted around in Spike’s lap to signal an answer.
Spike sighed, “Not necessary pet,” and stood, pacing the room.
494 watched him, more mystified than ever. Somehow he had messed up and had disappointed Spike. What was even more perplexing to him was why he even cared. And he did care. However, that was part of the problem, since the emotion wasn’t a requirement for his mission. Feeling such emotions felt foreign. 494 had never had a unit, had always been solitary because they had made him that way. He had been trained to be a covert assassin, had learned how to get close to his target without getting emotionally attached-until he was assigned to terminate Rachel. It had taken weeks, but she had gotten under his skin, and he had fallen in love with her.
It was just another reason why he was just as defective and worthless as his twin, Ben.
He turned toward Spike and watched as Spike paced the cell. His movements were languid, graceful. However, he wasn't sure that’d explain his reaction to Spike, why he didn’t need Manticore’s orders to willingly submit to Spike. Physically he understood it-Spike was stronger. At first he thought they were evenly matched, but quickly realized that was only because Spike was starved. Once he fed, 494 could feel Spike’s strength building. With regular feedings there was no doubt that between them the vampire was physically stronger. It still didn’t explain why mentally-internally-494 was willing to drop and prostate himself to an anomaly. He didn’t know Spike, wasn’t any more threatened by him than Renfro, and he knew he’d only submit to her out of survival.
Confused, 494 didn’t know what to make of it; what he felt for Spike and was willing to do for him without question. But what really worried him was the realization that his immediate reaction wasn’t out of obedience and a desire to follow his orders, nor was it about survival.
He was sitting up, leaning against the wall when Spike came over and sat down beside him. “Feeling better?” He could only nod a reply. “Good. Need to get out of here, and you’re going to help.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “Can’t wait for them to take you away, but we’re gonna need a diversion. I have a plan, yeah. You just stay like this, defenseless, until they come in, then I’ll attack. Either you join me or stay, but don’t interfere, understand?” On cue, 494 bobbed his head. “Good, now rest,” he ordered, even as he pulled 494 to his side and coaxed him into sleep.
They didn’t have long to wait before he woke to the echoing sound of Renfro’s heels as she approached. Sitting up, 494 realized he was alone. Glancing around, he quickly spotted Spike’s body sprawled out on the floor in the opposite corner, a pool of blood beneath him.
He couldn’t have been more shocked as he just stared at the blood. Sound seemed almost distant when he heard Renfro order the door open and a team inside the cell. A man turned Spike's body over, trying to find the cause of his injury, but as he turned him, Spike attacked. He was swifter than any X5, 494 had seen killing the first man, and dropping his dead body. Spike turned to the other, grabbing him as he ripped into the man’s neck. It wasn’t a bite to feed, but to kill. Spike let go of the body and rushed the door when they tried to close it, growling. Blood dripped off his fangs, the red stained his face and down his body. He rushed the door, attacking the guards. 494 could hear bones breaking, screams intersected with shouts of excitement from prisoners in the other cells.
494 watched, trembling, when Spike suddenly grabbed his head screaming. Finally he moved, rushing to his aid, but was instantly stopped when Renfro quietly ordered, “Stand down.”
She stood over Spike, holding a small box in her hand, and pressed it again. Spike screamed. When his pain had receded, Renfro smiled down at him. “Thank you for the demonstration hostile 17.” Glancing past him to the dead bodies in the cell, she ordered, “Remove them.”
More guards were suddenly there and complied with her order, dragging the bodies out.
Walking around in the cell, she waved the small device she held. “Interesting little device wouldn’t you say, kinda packs a wallop. You see our subsidiary, the Initiative, they caught and tagged you and a few others to be test subjects for this little gizmo. This remote, it just activates the device, a chip that’s been implanted-there is no off button. Normally that’d mean once activated this it’d be worthless, however, whenever I hit this button,” she pushed the button to demonstrate, chuckling as Spike screamed, cradling his head. Over his scream, she continued, “it effectively bypasses its main program. The program itself protects humans. You try to attack or feed off of a human…” She pushed the button again.
“Like I said, interesting, don’t you think?” She leaned over, waiting for Spike to say something, but he only glared. “Now that we understand each other…” She straightened and walked the perimeter of the cell. “What Maggie created here I can only applaud her for, but unfortunately her vision was limited on how to utilize this handy little gadget.” She walked toward the door and glanced over her shoulder, stating, “Let’s just say I have plans. For now, you and your little group of vampires are effectively my prototypes.”
At the door she turned and then looked at him. “Good job, 494. I just might have some other uses for you. For now, your job is to keep him fed. I want him strong, healthy-keep him that way.” The door closed and was locked behind her. It was obvious she was pleased when she pocketed the remote and left.
Once they were alone, Spike sat with his back up against the wall, elbows braced on his knees as his hands cradled his head, trying to soothe himself from the pain. He started to go to Spike, but as soon as he moved, Spike ordered, “Don’t.”
He stopped, frustrated, then quietly moved to the opposite wall and slid down, staring at Spike-waiting.
“Pet?”
494 looked up, belatedly realizing he had dozed off, and looked over at Spike, wondering if he was hungry. Spike was in the same position he had been in before he dozed off-cradling his head, although less intensely, not enough that he didn’t speculated whether or not Spike was still in pain. “It’s alright pet, I’m fine, could use a nibble though. Come over here and sit with me.”
Shaking off the sleep, 494 moved and sat down.
Spike tilted his head to look at 494, however he left his arm where it was crossed, obscuring most of his face from 494- everything but his eyes.
494 met his gaze then turned away feeling guilty. Though he was grateful Spike hadn’t attacked, it didn’t stop him from feeling ashamed of his earlier behavior when he hadn't defended him. He didn’t have a chip controlling his actions, but he was just as trained without a chip. He had been here too long and didn’t know how to break Manticore’s conditioning.
“Pet, look at me.” It was an order; reluctantly 494 did. This time he met and held Spike’s eyes and what he saw there made his stomach flutter. There was no anger or accusation. Instead, Spike’s eyes twinkled with mischief and approval. The flutter in 494’s stomach increased as he continued to stare and bask under the heat of Spike’s gaze.
“Come here let’s have a nibble.”
Eagerly he scooted closer and exposed his neck. Suddenly Spike sprang, and threw him to the ground and took what he had offered. It wasn’t painful like it was the first times, but it also wasn’t as pleasurable as it was last time. “Need to make a show of it pet, we’re being watched. Don’t want her to know that you’re mine just yet. Bint doesn’t know anything about vampires or even her chip. This might protect humans, but blokes like you, altered, doesn’t do anything. She might have chipped me, but she also lost you. We’ll get out of here, pet, trust me.”
494 struggled in vain at each painful pull. It wasn’t until Spike stopped talking that he even wondered how he could have heard him in the first place, since he hadn’t stopped drinking, taking in long pulls of his blood. He heard Spike laugh, ‘Didn’t. Not out loud. They can hear pet, but here…’ Spike flicked a finger on the back of his head then caressed it. ‘Go ahead, ask me a question. Just think it.’
He opened and closed his mouth; the only words he could think of were, when, how.
Spike laughed, ‘after you passed out and I almost drained you. Figured it might come in handy if it worked. Took me a bit to find the connection; probably should have paid more attention when Dru did it. Was one of her parlor tricks that Angelus encouraged, both of ‘em liked to play with their food, to connect with some poor sap, to either excite or terrify them. Would argue for hours on what would taste better. Me, I never saw the point. Blood was blood and tasted the same, to drain ‘em quick or slow, terrified or excited.’
Spike paused both in thought and his suckling. Not that Renfro’s camera would have picked that up as Spike kept his mouth over the puncture wound. Instead of sucking, his tongue played and lingered over the holes. ‘Not worried are you pet, me killing humans?’
494 jerked in Spike’s embrace, about to answer, but Spike nipped him before he spoke out loud. ‘Close your eyes and relax. Let ‘em think you’ve passed out. They know I won’t drain you.’ Spike waited a second then pulled his dead weight closer to him. ‘Now use your thoughts, pet-concentrate.’
‘No. About the killing; were you following orders?’
‘Don’t follow orders, pet, I make them. I’m a master vampire now, earned the right when I killed two Slayers.’
‘Did you before… have to follow orders?”
“We all have to start somewhere. Me, I had to follow my Sire’s orders.’
‘Your Sire? Who was your Sire?’
‘Bit complicated that answer, but officially it’s Drusilla’s mark that Sired me. Problem was Dru’s a bit flighty, and didn’t finish correctly. She brought me to Angelus like one of her broken dolls to fix me. Seems he was feeling generous that day and missed his boy so he finished the job. But anyone asks, you tell ‘em Drusilla’s me proper Sire. Not a word about Angelus, especially now that he’s a bloody pouf.’
‘Pouf?’
‘Yeah, Peaches. Was always a bit of a Nancy, but then the grand pouf went and got himself souled. For now he’s not someone we have to deal with. What we do have to deal with is getting out of here.’
494 wanted to ask more questions, especially about the insinuation that Spike expected they’d have to deal with Angelus. Instead he decided to deal with the pressing matter of breaking out of Manticore. ‘How? There’s too many of them. Even if we get out of section D, we’ll have to deal with X7’s’
‘X7’s?”
‘Clones of one. Annoying little gnats have a different mix in their cocktail.’
‘But not human?’
‘No, not human, but there are too many of them-we wouldn’t be able to kill all of them fast enough and still escape.’
‘Way to kill the fun. Right then, we need a plan. After the bint collects you…’
‘Collects me?’
‘Don’t worry pet, she has plans for you. I can see it in her eyes. Lately, she’s been tracking your every move, doesn’t want to kill you yet. So once she takes you back, you’ll need to figure out how we can get those X7’s out of the way. Then go anywhere that’s not here?”
Worried, 494 forgot himself and shifted. Spike immediately moved himself to cover. ‘What about the…’ He couldn't even think it remembering the pain Spike had experienced.
‘The chip, think we can get out it out while we’re here?’ Spike didn’t wait long before he answered his own question. ‘Didn’t think so. Worry ‘bout that once we’re out of here.’
‘You want me to go,’ he trailed off, afraid of the answer-that once they broke free they’d go their separate ways.
‘Not leaving you, pet. You hear me? Not going to separate from you either. Thing is I’m starting to understand why Dru liked her pets. However, you’re luckier than they ever were; she never kept her pets long. You, I intend on keeping. That a problem?’
Exhaling, feeling suddenly relieved, 494 wasn’t sure why, but Spike’s declaration comforted him. ‘No, it isn’t a problem.’
‘Good.’ Spike followed the affirmation with a small nip on his neck.
His focus shattered as he shuddered. His eyes remained closed just as Spike had ordered him to do; he knew Spike was close, hovering, but lost track, his censors off, and realized he couldn’t detect Spike’s subtle movements. The vampire had no pulse, had no air expel past his lips or over his skin. His touch was cool, against his heated flesh. It was haunting and exhilarating while he blindly waited for Spike’s next thought-his next touch.
Slowly he gathered his own thoughts and silently asked, ‘When do you think she’ll take me?’
‘Don’t know pet, hope sooner than later.’
Thinking about Renfro wanting him for anything scared him, but he didn’t want to admit that to Spike. Changing the subject he asked, ‘Why do you keep calling me pet, instead of 494?’
Spike snorted. ‘Don’t like it, they gave it to you and you're not theirs anymore. ‘Sides, 494 doesn’t have the same connotations as 007 now does it? And you’re more than just me lunch. If you want, we can think of a new name?’
494 didn’t know who 007 was, but couldn’t have been happier that Spike wanted him, thought of him as more than just a meal.
When he didn’t answer, Spike asked, ‘Tired pet?’
‘Yes, no…’
‘Shhh, sleep for a few hours. You can think about names tomorrow.’
It wasn’t up for discussion as Spike pulled him closer and spooned behind him, his touch lulling him to sleep.
The following days fell into a routine. Each morning a medical tech was there to collect new samples-this time they took samples from both of them. Every day someone would appear with a tray of food that 494 was meant to eat throughout the day, along with a large pitcher of milk spiked with extra tryptophan
They continued to communicate silently. Where Spike retold him stories of the Scourge of Europe, only this time he asked questions, leading Spike to go into graphic detail about his early days with Angelus and Drusilla. Other tales were after Spike lost Angelus to a nancy named Angel, and the adventures he had with Drusilla up to the days just before and after the pulse. Of when he arrived in Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth. Then, sprinkled throughout the day, Spike would offer up some name like George to use other than Pet. Each name was quickly dismissed. He couldn’t explain why exactly, but none of them felt right in his gut. Not that Spike cared since he preferred Pet more than any of his suggestions.
They knew they were being watched. In front of the camera Spike appeared to feed four and five times a day when he only needed to feed well once every few days. However, to whoever was watching, Spike played it up and was aggressive. He abusively pushed 494 around, but each move was a dance Spike choreographed just for Renfro. He enjoyed snarling, yelling that he was the big bad. Bouncing off the walls, screaming for Renfro that when he got out of there he’d kill her, rip her apart and show her exactly why his name was spike.
For his part, 494 submitted: whether it was to let Spike feed from him, or allow Spike to throw him around the cell. That was when 494 realized the big bad was actually skittish about hurting him-that Spike liked him.
The moment 494 thought it, Spike verbally forgot himself and answered, “Pillock!”
Giddy with the knowledge, 494 masked it and egged Spike on, choreographing his own moves so in the skirmish he was effectively bruising himself. It wasn’t until Spike saw how quickly those first bruises healed and disappeared that Spike stopped treating him as if he was a fragile human.
He’d eye Spike warily, showing his disdain any time Spike looked at him. Still, 494 loved the moments Spike would feed from him. It was the only time they were intimately close. By the sixth day, before Spike was able to feed from him, Renfro came to collect him. Spike had been right: Renfro wanted him.
He was briefly sent to cy-ops for a physical evaluation before he was issued his new assignment. A week later, he stood in Renfro’s office where they watched on a monitor as Ben was delivered to Spike. He had to stand there watching as Spike attacked and sunk his teeth into Ben. Saw Ben freely submit and incline his head. His arms encircled Spike’s body as Spike moved him to the floor. There Ben willingly opened his body, entwining his legs with Spike, moaning as his body gyrated under Spike’s, making it obvious to anyone-to him-that Ben was thoroughly enjoying Spike’s attention.
It took everything he had not to react. Apparently his stoic response satisfied Renfro as she turned to business and gave him his new assignment: to be 452’s new breeding partner.
Next~