Story: "Moment of Weakness" - Spike/Illyria

Feb 28, 2009 23:41

Title: Moment of Weakness
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: After the Fall
Pairing: Spike/Illyria
Disclaimer: Do not own.
Summary: Connor, Illyria, and Spike all have a moment of weakness.
Incorporates the prompt 'Touch' from fanfic100, and 'Rejected' from taming.



"I thought she was indestructible," Connor said. His own face was laced with bruises and small cuts, a rag tied around his arm to stop the flow of blood from a deep slice until they could get proper medical care.

The boy had escaped the worst of the battle, since Spike had actually pressed forward with his attack, forcing them away from Angel's son. He didn't want the stupid boy to get himself slaughtered, but he was ready to kill him himself right now. Illyria, senseless as she was, had reverted to Fred's form in the midst of the battle the second Connor spilt a drop of blood. Consequentially, she'd taken a wound in the stomach that was almost fatal.

Spike was no longer certain if having the boy around was such a good thing. Connor had proven at least slightly useful during their nightly outings. The boy was a pro when it came to dusting vampires and taking out lesser demons, but they weren't in the kiddie pool anymore, and LA was full of sharks. If he was having any sort of sentimental effect on Illyria, he would have to drive the boy away, even if it meant beating him to drive him off.

The idea of hitting the boy settled badly with Spike, and he immediately shook the thought away, despite is his displeasure. The demons were dead, and the chunk taken out of his side wasn't fatal. Illyria, on the other hand, wasn't in good shape. He'd never seen her pass out in battle, but the fact that she had reverted to her armored shell gave him hope. He'd seen Fred take the blade through the chest, he felt his entire being seize up in horror. Then she had grabbed onto the blade with a gloved hand and pulled it out of her before collapsing. That was the last thing he'd seen clearly, but by then he was in an all-out killing mode.

The adrenaline rush had passed now, leaving Spike shaking. His sword was still tightly clenched in a blood-soaked hand as he watched Connor approach Illyria's inert body. The boy observed her and then knelt, hesitating for a moment before he wiped strands of blue hair away from her neck. He touched her throat, feeling for a pulse, but Spike wasn't even sure if she had one to begin with.

"She's alive," Connor said loudly, to be sure that Spike heard him. The vampire seemed very shaken, so he wasn't sure if he had heard even then. It seemed like Spike had been pretty distant ever since Connor had saved him from that demon woman, anyway. If he hadn't shown up, Spike would likely have been executed, so he knew that the vampire felt in debt to him in some way. Ever since, Spike had been strangely protective of him, throwing himself into danger even though Connor knew he could handle himself.

The vampire also surrounded himself with a dozen women that were all drop-dead gorgeous, even if they were all demonic. Spike tended to keep him away from the mansion, but Connor had seen them nonetheless. He wasn't sure whether to be jealous or admire Spike, but settled for admiring him since it was obvious he could never obtain the beauties himself. Spike had to be some kind of a man to keep so many women thoroughly satisfied. But he knew that Spike rejected Illyria, of all the women. Maybe she was too intimidating for Spike, or he felt too protective of her. She had a genuine curiosity, it seemed, but Spike wouldn't allow anything romantic to develop.

"She's beautiful," Connor commented offhandedly, almost hoping that Illyria could somehow hear him. "I've never seen her fight before. She's amazing, isn't she? The way she beat the snot out of all those demons-"

"The way she took a blade to the gut," Spike added, his voice cold. "Really… beautiful."

Connor frowned at Spike's scathing words, knowing they were meant for him. He couldn't change that Illyria was protective of him. All he could do was try to help her in return. He had no idea how to begin, though. Illyria was a goddess in both flesh and history. She was probably older than anything he could imagine, but her body was absolutely perfect. A sort of leather-like armor completely encased said body, complimenting every curve. He didn't immediately see anyway that the suit was supposed to come off, but knew he'd have to figure it out somehow to administer first aid to her injuries.

His trail was thought was interrupted by the press of something hard and sharp against his neck. The first impulse was to turn and see what it was, but a slight increase in pressure told him that to make any movement would be the end of him.

"Get - away - from - her," Spike said slowly. He waited a second for the threat to settle into the boy and then eased back on his sword. Connor scrambled away from both Illyria and Spike, finally looking at the vampire when he was a safe distance away. Even from the few extra meters, Spike could smell the arousal pouring off of him like a bad cologne. Granted, the boy always stunk of it, but now it was strong enough to attract demons for miles. The teen had to learn to get over his hormones, and fast. The idea of Connor thinking about Illyria in any way sickened him.

"I wasn't doing anything," Connor said after a moment.

"Keep it that way," Spike said, sword still held out in warning. "If she found out about this, you'd wish that I'd cut your throat here and now." In truth, he wasn't sure if Illyria would find it degrading and take offense, or if she would find the boy's lust fascinating. He didn't particularly want to find out. Ever.

"I can't help it," Connor said pitifully. "It's the suit - I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you will be," Spike muttered. He tossed the sword towards Connor, making the boy flinch as it clattered on the pavement inches away from where he was. Spike went to Illyria, kneeling to scoop her up into his arms. "Anything steps foot or feeler in our direction, work out all of your manly testosterone with some good old-fashioned violence like the rest of us, yeah?"

~~

The walk back to the mansion was actually very uneventful. Spike suspected that the fight had warned any demons in the area off, at least for the time being. After giving the boy a few stitches, he'd have to send Connor off with a mission to clean out a nest of vampires or something.

The girls were scattered about the mansion as usual when Spike arrived. One of the scantily-clad women held the gates open to allow them inside, and then did the same for the door into the mansion. Connor's fixation with the girls did not escape him; the scent was unbearable. The kid really had to get used to the women if he wanted to spend any length of time in the mansion, or he'd give himself a heart attack. There was a strong trend for attractive demons to decorate themselves to their best advantage.

As Spike carried Illyria through the lobby, a small number of the girls came out. Some seemed pleased to see Illyria in a weakened state.

"The kid needs stitches," Spike said to them. "Whoever's handy with a needle gets to do the honors."

Spike didn't bother to see what Connor's reaction was to that. He knew the women would eat him alive to be the one who could make the boy flinch. He didn't even care about leaving them alone anymore. Half of the girls wouldn't give Connor a second look, but the other half would have sex with any creature that showed the slightest interest. As long as he didn't have to watch them going at it, they could have an orgy as far as he was concerned.

He took Illyria upstairs to his room, laying her out on the bed. The fact that she hadn't already woken up was probably not a good sign for her condition. Spike took a second to stretch his sore muscles while he examined her wound. The blade had left a sizeable hole in the belly of her armor, probably because she had changed back while it was still inside of her. He knew that he could not treat the wound as she was now, because that would be like putting a band aid on a metal chest piece. There had to be a way for the suit to be removed, but Spike wasn't very confident about it. As far as he knew, it was like a second skin for her.

The goddess remained unmoving while Spike checked her vitals. There was a heartbeat, although it was extremely slow. Spike doubted it had to do with the injury, and went to his bathroom to gather what he might need to treat the injury. The supplies were set on the bed, and then Spike was left with the task of removing the second skin.

He brushed his fingers over the front of her suit, light touch following the sweep of his gaze. He double-checked, but determined that there were no fastenings. They had to be on the back, instead. Spike carefully scooped her up, pulling her upright against him. The demoness did not stir, and Spike proceeded to feel at her back. Starting at the nape of the neck, there were laces of some sort. He began to work at undoing them, the threads finally untangling. Spike could have made quick work of the laces, but it was a different matter about how he was going to remove the suit itself so he could treat her wound.

Suddenly his patient stirred, and Illyria's hands clamped around Spike's forearms.

"You would touch me?" Illyria asked in what Spike knew was meant to be a menacing tone, but her voice was weak.

"Have to, Pet," Spike replied.

She lifted her head, looking at her surroundings before staring at Spike. "You've brought me to your room. You wish to intercourse with me."

"What?" Spike blurted out.

"You bring the lessers that you wish to intercourse with to this room," Illyria stated. She raised her head. "But I will not allow it."

"Uh, sure, Pet," Spike said. "Look, you've got a nasty wound in your stomach. 'Fact, if you'd stayed Fred a moment longer, you'd likely have died."

Illyria looked down and brought a hand to touch the blood on her stomach. "This - from allowing myself to become less. Only a moment."

"Need to treat you," Spike continued, prodding at the medical supplies on the bed. "That was why I was - ah - touching you. Need to get that suit of yours off so I can play Doctor. Wait, that didn't… never mind."

Illyria watched him carefully, and in the next instant, he suit had dissolved before his every eyes.

Spike made a small noise and quickly kept his gaze on her face.

"Does that please you?" Illyria sked.

"Uh… yeah," Spike told her. "That's… helpful, thank you."

She sat patiently while Spike busied himself with the supplies. He applied an antiseptic, refusing to allow himself to stop and notice the curve of her breasts just before him. He turned again and came back with a bandage. He stilled then, having to smooth it against her stomach. Slowly, he wound the bandage around her chest, forced to brush against her for an instant. When the bandage was secure, he moved away, hands shaking slightly with restraint.

"There. That should keep out, uh, infection while you heal."

Illyria put a hand to the bandages, almost seeming to mentally calculate her status. "This will do."

Spike nodded distractedly, then blinked hard and gathered the supplies as he stood up. "Get dressed," he told her severely, quickly returning to the bathroom. Illyria was puzzled when the door shut, followed by the sounds of the cabinets being opened and closer forcefully. She put her suit back on, and then heard the shower start in the bathroom.

Illyria stood from the bed and stopped abruptly to balance herself. The wound was more grievous than she had expected, and was grateful that Spike had taken the time to tend to it, although there was no much to do except for allowing it to heal. For now she would allow him privacy. She suspected that the half blood had been stirred to emotion by her condition. The vampire's odd behavior fascinated her at times. She would later have to reestablish her health in his eyes by overpowering him and reminding him that he was her pet, and not the other way around.

stories, story: after the fall, spillyria, story: illyria, story: spike

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