Bang, bang...
Saerian was beaming as she left, watching her walk out of his house, watching her with the thought that she was his.
Contentment wasn't something the demon was used to, but damn if he wasn't there right now.
He'd bristled more than once, found out that Phaedra was still stronger than he realized. But he was winning. As she left now he thought of the worst moment-- during his tenure on top of her on that table, as things progressed, she said Lindsey's name, and he'd slapped her. Hard. Saerian shook his head to clear it.
He'd dressed her and sent her off with a mission. An easy mission, and one that would destroy her like he wanted, while doing what the Senior Partners wanted: kill the pesky cowboy. Shoot him in the heart. Easy. Done.
Dressing her had been more than fun. Getting Phaedra into an incredibly short skirt, and a shirt that actually showed cleavage, was almost more fun than nailing her. That body. That body hidden, covered up... he shook his head again. This was as it should be. Flashes of bare white skin, almost gleaming they were so white. Legs for years, not just days. There was a slight chill in the air, so the duster went back on, but still. Mmmm. He'd licked his lips.
________________________________________
Phaedra was headed back to her hotel room. Saerian told her, with certainty, that's where Lindsey'd gone. Besides, she probably had things there she'd want to bring to his place, he reasoned. But now she was headed back to the hotel, evil glint in her eyes, hips almost swinging.
She walked into the building and the kid at the desk let out a low whistle as she passed. The glare she gave him silenced him, and she headed up in the elevator.
Her floor. Back. Ready to go.
She stopped in front of the door, almost coming back to herself, and felt Saerian's grip tighten. She smirked and laughed, lightly, and opened the door.
Lindsey was perched on the end of her bed, cigarette between his lips, staring at the knife he was tossing back and forth in his hands. His cheek was swollen, eye a nice shade of purpley-red as he looked up.
The cigarette nearly fell from his lips as he took in her appearance. He'd known she had a good body, but...
"Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw..." He muttered, staring at her. He stood, swallowing hard. "Jesus, what brought this on?" He looked her up and down, practically drooling, too distracted to notice what was missing. Her.
"I could, but it'd be needlessly messy." Phaedra smirked. Saerian, sitting alone in his house, grinned. "And it'd waste an awful lot of perfectly good blood."
The vampire's eyebrow raised as Lindsey stood, watching him look her over. She ignored his question. There was no answer, anyway. None that she could really give him. The light dancing in her eyes was nothing but evil as she smiled up at him, a calculated, cold smile. "That looks like it hurts," she said, eyebrows both raising as she looked at the damage her punch had done.
"Could say that..." Lindsey frowned a little, stepping closer.
"Y'alright, darlin'?" He murmured, cupping her face with one hand, enjoying the change of clothes but a little surprised.
Didn't think you'd be in this good a mood. And don't think I've forgiven ya for this... He gestured to his face, but the words were only in his head. Her head.
Phaedra... not the vampire standing there under Saerian's control, but actually Phaedra, winced. The light in the eyes, the darkness, faltered for a few seconds. Then Saerian tightened his grip again. He really hadn't bargained on her being such a fucking troublesome little gypsy.
Her eyes shut, head tilting toward Lindsey's hand as he touched her. "Oh, I'm feelin' better now," she said, grinning at him.
For the pretty bruises? Her eyebrow hitched upward, lips parting slightly, watching him, almost daring him to touch her. Thought you liked it when I hurt you.
Lindsey frowned again, looking deep into her eyes.
"Darlin', you sure you're alright?" He threaded both hands through her hair, thumbs gently smoothing across her cheeks, just as they had in Caritas, just as they had the first time they had kissed.
Like it better when you're screamin' my name... He purred. Hell, he was a red-blooded male, and that outfit...well, it got the blood pumping, all right.
Phaedra stared right back into his.
"Mhmmm," she said.
Lindsey's thoughts went straight to Saerian, and the demon flashed on Phaedra saying Lindsey's name with him. The demon growled, out loud. What happened next was like a glass shattering.
Saerian lost control of her, just for a minute. Not long enough for Phaedra to come back to herself, but long enough that Lindsey might see some difference, if he wasn't blind with lust yet.
So then try to make me scream.
Lindsey's eyelids flickered, and he stepped back, frown deepening further still.
"What's going on?" He murmured, the first trickling of unease sliding down his spine as his hands dropped away from her face.
This ain't like you.
Phaedra shrugged, eyes dancing. She probably had a very, very guilty face on. It was impossible not to.
She raised her chin, exposing a long line of pale neck, and bit her lower lip, as though to keep from laughing.
What's 'like me', Lindsey? Do you even really know?
She released her lip, walking Lindsey backward toward the bed, the movement designed to force him to sit and look up at her-- probably starting with a glance at her bare legs.
And yeah, his eyes were drawn to those pale, pale, legs. Up her body, until he reached his face.
"You've never called me that. Not in here." He tapped his temple, then cocked his head to the side.
What the fuck is goin' on with you, darlin'? That feeling of unease was growing rapidly stronger, and Lindsey's hand began to creep towards his knife, left abandoned on the bed beside him.
Phaedra's face grew relatively serious. "Called you what? Your name?"
Saerian squirmed in his seat. Don't, he thought to himself, tell me these two are actually in love... just fucking don't.
He knew Phaedra cared for Lindsey; that was all the weakness he needed. But love... love meant inside jokes. And bonds. And things he could never, EVER know about.
Not without her telling him.
Oh, fuck.
I'm not sure, she thought at him. Wasn't a lie... Green eyes darted toward his hand, closing in on the knife. "You going to stab me?" Her voice was full of laughter. Phaedra leaned forward, straddling Lindsey's lap, despite the skirt, looking him in the face, right in the eyes. Her eyes still danced, Saerian's laughter behind them. "Why?"
"Cuz this ain't you." He stood, sharply enough that she fell off his lap, striding away from her.
"Tell me what you said before you left, darlin'. What did you call me?" His eyes were desperate, pleading with her to know, to tell him. Because if she didn't....oh God, don't let that be true, please don't let that be true.
Luckily, vampires usually land on their feet. Kind of like cats.
Phaedra stood, almost defiantly, a serious, more-than-hint of danger in the look she was giving Lindsey. Meanwhile, Saerian was reading all the thoughts from her that he could, not finding it. Not finding anything that would help.
Yeah. They were in love. Saerian swore, aware that Phaedra's life could actually be in danger, if Lindsey could bring himself to end it. A stray thought, all Phaedra, floated to Saerian. Smarter than you thought, you sonofabitch. And if I'm not the one to kill you, he will be. Count on it.
Just for that, shaking his head at how goddamn brazen Phaedra was being, Saerian gripped harder, like tightening the reins on a horse.
"I told you you weren't coming with me," she said, glaring at Lindsey now. That's all she said... because that's all Saerian had. "And I gave you that." There was a nod to the bruise, followed by a smirk.
"That ain't what I asked." Lindsey practically growled now, that flicker of fear and anger and...jealousy? in her eyes sending chills down his spine. This wasn't his girl. Only a few days, and he knew that.
Knew this wasn't her. Or at least, not her in control. Reaching to the small of his back, he gently clicked the safety off on his gun, knowing he didn't have a chance in hell of shooting her; knowing he couldn't bring himself to even to save his own neck.
And knowing that would be his downfall.
Phaedra smiled at him, almost sweetly.
"Oops."
The laughter that followed was dark, and close to sinister. She heard everything, Lindsey going for his gun, knew down to a fraction of a second how much time there was, what was going on. Phaedra was a professional killer. It was her job to know that. Pair that with who was driving... and the combination was more than lethal. It was malignant.
She shook her head, making calm 'tsk' noises at Lindsey. "Lindsey...."
Phaedra, or, really, Saerian now... the pretense was over... said his name like it was part of a song. Holland Manners used to say it this way. She tilted her head. Had Lindsey not been dazzled by her outfit, he'd have noticed something else not right--no daggers.
But there was a gun. And now it was in her hand. "Wanna play chicken, hm? See who swerves first?"
Phaedra's pale, small hand, clicked back the safety on her own gun, holding it out, aiming it. There was a slow grin. "It won't be me, baby."
Lindsey pulled out his gun, aiming it right back at her, tilting his head a little.
"Saerian, I presume?" He spoke clearly, coolly, holding the gun steady, two-handed.
"Get the fuck out of her." He growled, gaze and hand perfectly still, even as he suppressed the urge to shake with rage. To scream and curse and force him out of there. He knew that wouldn't work.
Saerian, across town, laughed out loud.
So did Phaedra.
"Good guess," she said, nodding emphatically, as if maybe Lindsey were retarded. "I'm not actually in her," Phaedra said, eyebrow arching. Saerian had decided to be as cruel as possible. Love wasn't supposed to be in the cards. "Well, not right now."
Phaedra winked.
Lindsey'd get the gist.
"Yelling at me won't get her back," she said. "She's in there, right now, anyway. And she is mightily pissed off. But I gave her a job to do, Lindsey."
Phaedra's hand chambered a round. Locked and loaded, ready to go. Saerian really loved guns. "Yipee-ky-yay."
"Son of a bitch." Lindsey cursed softly, stepping closer, gun still pointed right between Phaedra's eyes. But he couldn't. Couldn't shoot her, couldn't risk losing her. His hand wavered, face crumbling, just for a moment, smoothing out into an expressionless mask as he lowered his gun, dropping it onto the carpet with a dull thud.
"Good boy."
The delivery of the words was deadpan. All that there was of Phaedra right now was the body, the face.
"By the way? Even if you shot her, point blank, wouldn't have killed her," Phaedra's voice said. There was a grin.
She sighed, shoulders rising and falling. "I'll give you the same courtesy The Conduit gave me."
Both eyebrows raised. Saerian concentrated as hard as he could, Phaedra fighting him every step of the way.
She aimed for his heart. "Last words, Mr. McDonald?" The cadence, the delivery, was all Saerian. "She could've been a sharpshooter, she's that good. She won't miss."
"She won't miss you either." Lindsey snarled, "She'll kill you for this." He smirked. "And she'll do it with a smile." He swallowed hard, looking deep into her eyes. If this was it, there was so much he wanted to say.
But not to him. Not where he could hear. And so silence it was.
"It was good while it lasted, darlin'." Was all he said, standing, waiting. No point in running now.
"So colorful," she said, eyes rolling.
All Saerian's effort went to squeezing that trigger. It was halfway back when he started losing his control.
It was good while it lasted, darlin'.
Phaedra shook her head, as if to clear it, realizing she had less than the space of a breath to do anything, let alone save Lindsey's life. A sad smile spread across her face. Oddly enough, Lindsey's last sentence is what snapped her back.
Clear eyes regarded him, then filled with sadness. I can't stop him, ves'tacha
Saerian was throwing a lamp now, in frustration.
All I can do is... Her arm moved, aiming instead for Lindsey's stomach. Phaedra lost control again, a ragged gasp torn out of her throat as Saerian pushed her back down, back and away.
Her hand squeezed the trigger quickly, twice.
Lindsey felt her rise, a moment of glee before white hot pain lanced through him. He couldn't help the shocked look that crossed his face, knowing that it wasn't her, and yet seeing her shoot him. He fell to his knees, crumpling to the floor as he looked down at his chest, one hole in the center, the other a little below.
He slowly raised a hand to touch the wounds, fingertips coming away crimson as he began to slump sideways.
Phaedra put up the gun, and it was out of sight in few seconds. She calmly strode over to him, leaning down, eyes glistening again, and pushed hair out of Lindsey's face.
"You got lucky," she said. "She might've made sure the wounds aren't fatal." Phaedra tilted her head. "I distinctly remember telling you," she said, voice taking on the timbre of Saerian's, "not to fucking fall for her."
She stood, walking out of the room, still completely unaware of what Phaedra called Lindsey.
She'd buried it as deep as it would go, a place he'd never get to.
Lindsey watched her leave through hazy eyes, heart breaking, just a little. He curled up on the floor, struggling to breathe now, crawling towards the phone achingly slowly. Dragging himself up on to the bed, he held very, very still for a while, pressing a hand against his side, against the wound that he was pretty sure had torn through his lung.
Lindsey picked up his phone, praising whatever god had made him save her number.
*******
He pressed 'call', struggling to lift the phone to his ear, wheezing softly.
" 'nita?" He couldn't hear properly, blood rushing in his ears, pulse slowing, eyes dragged shut. "M'at Phaedra's room. Ssaerian...she's his...gun..." He knew it wasn't making sense, couldn't help it. The phone slid out of his hand, falling to the floor as Lindsey curled up, giving in to the pain.
As if my night wasn't bad enough. First I go head to head with psycho vampire demon, then I come back to the hotel to find Carr gone and Jason hyped up, now Redneck McBubba, Esquire calls my cell phone.
Doesn't having a shitty life give me the excuse to not answer? Guess not.
I pushed the button and snapped,"What?!?" but I could barely hear Lindsey's voice. I strained my ears, heard his words.
Shit had just gone from bad to worse.
"Hey! Answer me! Where are you?" I yelled into the phone, but he had already dropped it. I looked at Jason and raised an eyebrow.
"You up to tracking Cowboy Billie Bob right now? I'm going to grab my gear, get ready to go." I slipped my holster on, the knives went on my upper arms and the backpack with my animating tools went on my back. Might as well be prepared for every eventuality, right?
Lilah had stayed in the room of her hotel after Phaedra left and Lindsey had finally woken up and left as well-with only a few insults. He was too worried about Phae to concentrate on his ex-rival, it seemed. After making phone calls to reassure her mother's safety-and checking in with the LA firm-Lilah had finally been ready to fall into bed-and had done so.
And at oh-fuckin' early-in the morning, she'd heard the gunshots, and had jerked awake. She blinked, pushing long dark strands out of her face, as she tried to orient herself. After a few minutes of silence, suspicions convinced her to exit the bed and leave her hotel room-dressed only in silk pajamas...but also carrying her gun.
She headed unerringly for Phaedra and Lindsey's room, and nudged the door open, stepping in to see the bleeding Lindsey. Her gun was aimed at him, first...then shifted to move around the room to be sure it was empty. Finally, she lowered it and walked over, kneeling next to him. "You're probably going to think my being here is a nightmare-or you're already being punished by the Partners-but I'll help if you let me."
Lindsey dragged heavy eyelids open, glaring at her.
"Don' need your help." He gritted out through clenched teeth, curled up on the bed, hands pressed tight against his wounds. He'd passed out for a bit, but sadly Lilah's voice had woken him up. Oblivion was a much more welcome option.
"Saerian's got her." He growled. "He's controllin' her." He closed his eyes for a long moment, wheezing.
"Wanna help? Git me a plastic bag n' some tape." Whatever he'd seen in Phaedra's eyes, that glimmer of her inside, was keeping him fighting now. Or at least, keeping him awake. Fighting was a lost cause by now. He tried to reach for the phone, pained sob escaping as he realised that was a really bad idea.
Shit, Anita.
"Call Anita. S'the last number. Tell her 'm here. She needs..." HE was shivering now. "She needs t'be warned 'bout Phaedra."
"I heard. And I already knew about Saerian. Had my own run-in with him earlier, but he moved more quickly than I expected."
Both their heads swiveled towards me. Yea, it helped being all mysterious. It also helped having a wolf to track down the bleeding bastard. Blood's a nice, strong smell to track.
I bent down over Lindsey, checked out his wound. It looked bad, as in not good at all.
I looked at Jason. "He's not pack. Do you think I could still share power with him since he's got his own magic?"
Lindsey jerked his head up, breath hissing through his teeth. He had his hand pressed against the wound in his chest, but the one on his stomach was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a lovely red patch on the bedsheets.
He looked between Jason and Anita, watching as Jason shrugged, chewing on his lower lip.
"Worth a try?" The young werewolf suggested, carefully shutting the door to Phaedra's room. Didn't do to go scaring the rest of the hotel, after all.
Spike had done a decent job of staying out of Phaedra's way. And Lindsey's, for that matter. Two of them could shag themselves down and IQ class, far as he was concerned.
But he did know where the hotel was, which room it was. He'd brought back Phaedra's daggers out of respect.
That didn't mean Spike was the good guy.
Walking past the hotel, on his way to the butcher's, coming back from a spirited chit-chat with Buffy (sarcasm), Spike saw Phaedra leaving the building. In a rush, yeah... but the outfit. The outfit just screamed at him.
There was a low, malevolent laugh, and Spike fell into step beside her for a second. "Love," he said, blue eyes wide, drinking her in over and over, running up and down from her face, over her bared neck, down to her long, exposed legs... "maybe you should shack up with idiots more often."
She'd turned her head, smirking, the look on her face practically daring him to go on. "Looks good on you," he said, biting at his lower lip.
Spike had rested a hand tentatively on her shoulder, and really, he was playing with Phaedra. He kinda wanted her now, yeah, but... there was always a but. And it always had to do with Buffy.
And the stronger vampire, in her short skirt, had punched him in the jaw and walked away. "Stay away from me," she'd said.
Rubbing his jaw, eyebrows furrowed, he'd gone into the hotel, and up to her room, intending to ask Lindsey what the bloody hell was going on.
And seen the entire fucking population of Sunnydale, right there.
"Want to fill a bloke in, then?" Spike asked, peering in through the door. "Your girl just popped me one. And from the looksa things... popped you two."
"Too bad-you've got it, for now." She started for the phone, then stopped when she heard a voice from behind, and looked over to the woman-who must have been Anita. Stepping out of the way, she arched a brow at the talk of power sharing. What was this about?
Then Spike showed up. Lilah gave him one long look, then returned her attention to Lindsey. Hey, at least she could find out what was happening, even if there wasn't really anything to do to 'help', now.
"Oh great." I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "This? This is what you give me to deal with? Now I not only have bleeding cowboy, I have sarcastic vampire. Why do you hate me?"
Shaking my head, I looked over the wounds and spoke to Spike without looking at him. "Saerian went to the Conduit and got vamped. He came back and took over Phaedra, made her shoot Lindsey. Now we've got to save him and get rid of Saerian somehow. Got it?"
I motioned Jason over. If we were going to try and share power, we would need to raise it somehow....probably with skin.
Jason nodded. He'd seen Anita share power often enough. He grinned a little, hands going to the hem of his shirt.
"Is this the bit where I get to be naked? Or am I stripping off surly and bleeding over there?" He waggled his eyebrows, as Lindsey attempted to swear at them both. And cried out in pain as movement caused stars behind his eyes.
Jason was trying to ignore the scent of Lindsey's blood - superpowered blood, at that - though his eyes were a little less human-looking, hooded and dark.
Spike glared at Anita for her outburst. Bitch was stealing his moves, yellin' up to the Almighty like that.
He stepped into the room completely, watching the proceedings, brow furrowed.
"Saerian did what?"
His voice was about an octave lower than it should've been. He worked his jaw. Still hurt. Phaedra could punch like a champ. "How you gonna save this one? He's..."
Spike didn't say it. He actually managed NOT to ask if he could drink him if he died, too.
I glared at him. "You heard me. Do I need to repeat it slower with smaller words for you or something?"
I shoved Lindsey's shoulder back towards the ground and pulled the remnants of his shirt out of the wounds. I knew it hurt, but I couldn't afford to be sympathetic. It needed to be clean if we were going to attempt this, or even if he was to be saved in any way, mystical or medical.
"I think we both at least need to be skin to skin to raise the power in the first place. After that, I'll have to touch him." Looking at Lindsey, I said, "Trust me, I won't like that any more than you will. But I can't let you die. We need you to kick Saerian's ass." I nodded my head towards Spike. "You too. And no, he's not going to die so stop looking at him like he's filet mignon and you've been stuck on a vegetarian diet for 6 years."
Lindsey gritted his teeth to hold in a scream as Anita removed what was left of his shirt, the fabric stuck to his chest with drying and wet blood, chest making rather disturbing sucking noises as he struggled to breathe.
Jason had shed his shirt, climbing up onto the bed and lifting Lindsey's head into his lap, despite the other man's weak protest. He looked at Anita, waiting for her to tell him what to do.
Spike just stood back, offended and a little sad. Anita yelled at him, and he was still a bit messed up from Buffy.
Plus, no human blood. Vampire sad.
He watched with raised eyebrows as clothes came off. The hell kind of healing was this, and why was it not around whenever he needed something?
I pulled my own t-shirt off, leaving me in my black bra and my jeans. I slid off my boots and socks, I always felt more comfortable doing this barefoot. I mean, really if you're going to be topless or doing sexy stuff, the only shoes you should be wearing are high heeled 'fuck-me' stilettos or boots. And I tended to avoid wearing those foot-torture devices as much as possible.
I ran one hand up Lindsey's chest to get a feel for the wound, not sexual at all. The other hand, though, reached out to pull Jason closer, sandwiching the wounded one between us. That was much more sexual, especially as I pulled him in for a kiss.
Jason could smell the blood, feel quickened breathing as Lindsey's chest rose and fell against his, laboured and pained as he moved the injured man until he was pressed between them. He kissed Anita hungrily, feeling his beast rise, rolling over and over, power sparkling between them, almost like a golden glow on invisible fur, swelling up as he pushed his power into her.
I fed on his arousal, his power. I pulled it into me and used it to raise the magic inside me that I still didn't quite understand. I didn't know how my necromancy or bond to the pack could let me heal but I was more than willing to use it.
I wasn't sure if Lindsey's magic would interfere or welcome the pack energy.
I plunged my fingers into the wound in his stomach, ignoring his cry for the moment. I fed the power into it, hoping it would at least stop the bleeding or knit the wound for long enough to think up a better idea He wasn't pack, so I couldn't completely heal him but I could do this, at least.
Lindsey's cry was a little more difficult for Jason to ignore; all it did was make his beast flare up stronger, blood making him moan. fingers digging in to Lindsey's shoulders.
The human whimpered between them, staring wide-eyed at Anita, feeling the answering tug of power somewhere in his chest, tattoos seeming to stand up off his flesh for just an instant. He could feel his flesh knit together, starting to heal in a way that should be impossible. He took a deep breath, gasping as his lung re-inflated, sealed the breach.
Not healed, not fully. But close. Shallow wounds now, rather than deep holes in his body.
I threw my head back as Lindsey's whimpers reached my ears. I practically dragged Jason over the no-longer-so-wounded redneck so I could run my hands over him. The side effects of the power raised for healing often lasted far longer than it took to raise it in the first place.
I completely ignored Lilah and Spike, didn't even notice if they were still here. Hope they enjoyed the show, because it sure as hell was going on.
Jason growled softly into the kiss, pushing Anita down against the bed. He lifted his head a little, picking up her hand in his, raising it to his lips and sucking her fingers clean, hungrily.
Lindsey lay on the bed, forgotten by Jason and Anita, looking down at his chest in mild disbelief. He gingerly got to his feet, swaying a little, slowly making his way towards Phaedra's bathroom. Hopefully there'd be something in there he could use as a bandage.
There was no way Saerian was getting away with this.
Spike was standing off to the side, slack-jawed. He knew Anita had power over the dead... but what was this?
His eyebrow danced as Lindsey got up, watching the man walk... when two damn minutes ago he'd started a countdown to his last breath.
A seriously dirty smirk crossed his face, and a comment was shot over his shoulder to Anita and Jason. "Alright, then," he said, voice almost a purr. "Nice trick. It work on vampires?"
With that, he turned and went into the bathroom, watching Lindsey's face carefully. "Was it good for you too?" He asked.
But his face was completely serious. Hard, even. Spike didn't like what was going on anymore than Lindsey.
Lindsey leant against the wall, chuckling tiredly.
"Thrill a minute." He sat down heavily on the toilet seat, reaching for a towel, running it under cold water and trying to clean off some of the blood.
"You got a better idea what the fuck that was?" He nodded next door, dreading to think what Anita and Jason were up to now. And smirking a bit as he realised he'd left Lilah in there with them.
Spike was doing his best to ignore the blood, and not just lick Lindsey where he stood.
"Energy, mate," he said, shrugging. "I knew Anita had power over the dead... guess she has power over the wolves, too. No bloody idea beyond that."
He stood in the room now, not reflecting in the mirror near the sink. He smirked.
"You have a plan? I hate the bastard, too, y'know." Spike rubbed unconsciously at his jaw as he said so, then crossed his arms, leather jacket creaking.
"Ain't got much of anythin' right now." Lindsey murmured, tossing the bloodied towel into the bath. He sat back against the toilet seat, eyes closing as he sighed heavily.
After a long moment, he cracked an eye open, looking at Spike. "You're the only one who's not going to get turned into a fucking puppet if you walk in there with him. Mind you, if he's busy controlling Phaedra, not like he'll be able to control anyone else...maybe." That, he wasn't certain of. Not now Saerian was a vampire.
"No plan, but I ain't just sitting here."
"Then don't sit 'ere," Spike said, smirk starting across his face.
"Can't say I'm overly fond of you," he said. "But your girl? I have nothing but respect for her. And that stupid, prissy git messin' with her head? Least favorite blighter ever."
He stood straight, Adam's apple standing out of his throat. "I never pretend to be the brains of any operation, not bloody well ever. But I'll help you. Especially after..."
Spike's eyes went far away, glassed over. "Buffy."
He raised an eyebrow at Lindsey, wondering if he really got what was being said.
Lindsey looked at him, and nodded. Yeah, he got it.
He folded up some toilet paper, pressing it against the shallow wounds on chest and stomach, trying to stop them bleeding, use them as a makeshift bandage. It'd hurt like fuck trying to get them off again, but he wanted to not be bleeding through his clothes when they faced Saerian again. Being in a room with three vampires, and bleeding, was really not a good plan.
He looked around, trying to see if there was a...ahah. Flipping open the front of the mirror, he pulled out a small first aid kit. Not much, but it'd do. He pulled out pads and tape, trying and failing to open them one-handed without bleeding over everything.
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[info]_spike
2007-06-15 13:01 (link) DeleteFreezeScreen Select
Spike bit his lip.
Good thing he wasn't a spur-of-the-moment type vampire. Good thing he had self control. He managed to tear his eyes away from the blood absorbing into a cotton pad as Lindsey taped it, blinking.
"He's not just gonna drop her, mate," Spike said, leaning on the wall. "We had to make him drop Buffy. Witches had to, yeah?" He shook his head, eyebrow twitching again. "Pardon an observation, but Phaedra's an awful lot of trouble. Pft. Seems like the whole of Sunnydale is forever runnin' after her."
A slow grin came over his face. He couldn't help it. "She worth it?"
Lindsey looked up, and arched one eyebrow. And smiled a slow, lazy, utterly wicked smile.
"Think I'd have stood there and let her shoot me if she wasn't?" He pointed out, shaking his head. "She's...yeah, she's somethin'." And yeah, maybe his smile went a little softer, a little more sappy. Tended to happen when he wasn't concentrating on how he looked.
In fact, the smile was pretty much the same one he'd had when he'd picked Phaedra up, back in the warehouse.
"So, what's the plan?" He looked up, blinking a little as if brushing off whatever daydream he'd been falling into. Probably one with naked Phaedras.
"We get the witch to work their mojo? Drive the demon outta the...demon?"
Spike saw the face, saw Lindsey's entire demeanor change, and laughed, but just once.
He had no damn room to be laughing, and he knew it. He wanted a Slayer; he was just as screwed up over a woman.
"So... you pulled a gun on her, too?" Spike raised and lowered both eyebrows. "Good on you. Guess you...couldn't do it, then."
He was more musing than asking. Huh. Love was a funny thing.
"I told you," Spike said, shaking his head, "I am not the go-to-vampire for plans. Ask the Sexecutioner out there."
He sighed. "But if it were me? If this were..." Spike bit his lower lip as if he were going to stop speaking. He didn't. "... were my girl?" He had to fight not to picture Buffy. Spike shook his head again, as if to clear it. "I'd already be out there. Chasin' Saerian. Chasin' her."
"Yeah." Lindsey screwed up his face. "Came close, but...couldn't." Taping up the last edge of bandage, he stood.
"Only thing stoppin' me was bleedin' over the damn floor." He walked to the doorway, waiting for Spike to move. He was sure he'd left at least one shirt kicking about Phaedra's floor.
If not...hell, he'd go without a shirt. He wasn't leaving Phaedra in Saerian's hands. 'Specially not from what Saerian had been saying. What he'd made her do.
Sinking into the bed Lindsey had just kindly vacated for us, I shivered as Jason's tongue slipped over my fingers. I felt the pull deep inside with every move of his mouth.
I moved my clean hand down his cheek, down his neck and over his shoulder. I dug my nails into his back and gasped, drawing his shirtless chest even closer.
Jason growled gently, nipping at her fingers as he pressed closer, letting Anita's fingers slip free of his mouth. He nuzzled at her neck, behind her ear, burying himself in her scent as he ground his hips down against her, clearly very happy to be in the position he was.
I trailed my wet, clean fingers down his chest. My other hand moved down to his hip, pressed him even closer than before.
I moved one leg up so that my calf rested against his butt, pressed him warm and hard against me as I nibbled on his neck.
A shudder ran down Jason's spine as he pressed impossibly closer, moaning softly.
" 'nita..." He breathed, panting softly. He whimpered low in his throat, rocking against her, arms braced against the mattress as he kissed her again.
I slid my hand inside Jason's pants, unbuttoning the top as I slid my leg along his.
I pressed his hand to my chest as I leaned my head back against the bed, biting down on his lower lip.
Jason moaned loudly, hips bucking towards her, breath coming roughly now. He growled approval as Anita caught his lip between her teeth, kissing her fiercely, harshly.
His hand slipped inside her bra, a little awkward at the angle they were laying at, pinching her nipple between his fingers.
I moaned as he slid his hand over my breast and wrapped both legs around his waist. I dug my heels into his butt as I slid my tongue between his teeth, kissing him deeply.
I vaguely knew Lindsey and Spike were in the bathroom, and Lilah was somewhere, but I didn't care. I just wanted more skin, more warmth, jsut more.
That made two of them. Jason grinned into the kiss, drinking down that soft moan, scraping short fingernails over the curve of her breast. He thrust against her, settling into a rhythm, not caring that the button of his jeans was digging into his stomach, just needing the friction so fucking badly.
I panted into his ear with each thrust, raising my hips to grind into his. I shuddered as I felt his nails on my breast, the pain merging with pleasure as it always did for me. Jason knew what I liked by now. I liked it rough, liked knowing how desperate he was for me.
Jason mewled softly as Anita ground up hard against him, shuddering as he came in his jeans, arms trembling as he held his body up off hers, hips still jerking softly, rubbing against her, over and over, panting breaths corrupted by soft moans.
I threw my head back and moaned as I felt him shudder and twist against me, triggering my own orgasm. Sinking my teeth down into his shoulder, I gasped with the tremors and held on to him tight.
I leaned my forehead against his as he rubbed against me, using one hand to pull the sweaty hair off the back of my neck. I knew we had to get up and deal with the rest of the world, but dammit, I really didn't feel moving. At all. Like for the next few days.
Jason panted softly, breathing calming slowly as he nuzzled at Anita's neck, reluctantly rolling off her and on to his back.
"Mmmm. We should do that more often." He murmured sleepily, wriggling about more catlike than wolflike, broad grin as he writhed contentedly against the sheets.
I stretched my arms over my head and arched my back, lossening up my neck. Even with the relaxation that came after sex, the muscles around my neck and shoulders were still tense. Stupid Sunnydale.
"We should. We really should. Though since we've done it a few times since you got her,e I'm not sure when we would even have the time. I have a very busy schedule." I grinned and bit down on his shoulder lightly. "I'd be happy to try and fit you in, though."
Spike and Lindsey came out of the bathroom just in time to see Anita and Jason... winding things up.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Lovely," he said, shoving his hands into his duster pockets. Why did everyone get to have sex, except him? "And can we go now, then? Or do you lot need some kind of post-coital cigarette?"
He reached into his jacket and removed a pack, smirking as he extended his hand.
Jason snorted, looking down at his jeans and grimacing.
"No, but I could use a clean pair of pants..." Lindsey made a face, but nodded towards a pair of jeans on the floor.
"Those should be mostly clean." He murmured, though the thought of the werewolf going commando in his pants was kind of...well, he'd be doing laundry before he wore 'em again.
Jason rolled off the bed in one fluid movement, shucking off his rather messy pants and pulling on Lindsey's discarded jeans.
"It smells like gypsy and sex in 'ere," Spike said, wrinkling his nose. "Wonderful. Again, I say, can we go?"
Both eyebrows raised impatiently. He really was ready to kick Saerian until he bled, and part of him didn't want to be in Phaedra's room. It was a thing. Vampire lair, respect, etc.
"Hold your horses, undead wonder," I muttered as I sat up off the bed. I had long since ceased to care that people knew when I had sex, they can just shut up and be jealous all quiet-like.
I put my hair up in a ponytail and pulled my shirt off the floor where I had thrown it earlier. Sliding it over my head, I watched Jason pull on Lindsey's pants. I owed him some new clothes.....and a lot more. Later.
I cracked my neck. "Ok, now we're ready. I'm assuming the impatience means we have some sort of plan, right?" I raised an eyebrow and looked between the cowboy and the vampire. That felt like it should be a joke, but I wasn't going to go there. I looked at Lindsey's shiny new blood-less shirt and asked, "How are you feeling? Well enough to leave the room for a while?"
"Where'r we going?" Jason had missed that part of the conversation. Mostly because he was...busy. With the sexing.
"We're goin' after Saerian." Lindsey looked at Anita, and nodded. "Even if I wasn't, you think you'd stop me?" He smiled a little, voice quiet. "Thank you. For...whatever the hell that was."
Sitting on the end of the bed, Jason started rolling up the cuffs of his pants; Lindsey was a liiittle taller than him.
Spike smirked at Jason, rolling up the pants. Little wolf. Heh.
"Good trick, that," he nodded, after Lindsey's thank you.
"Doubt this git will be too hard to find. He's so full of himself. I wish I could eat his heart."
"Yea, it's a talent. Came along with the being haunted by the munin, though, so I'd be more than willing to give it back." I made a face at Jason, who smiled angelically back at me. I knew the lukoi were happy I could share power with them and heal, but it was one more item on the freak checklist for me.
"You may not be able to eat his heart, but we can try to come up with a close second. You're the only one who can hit him, and it takes a lot of power for him to take me over. I'm thinking maybe we can double-team him, give him so much to focus on that he can't do any one thing well. He'll have to pick between fighting Spike, fighting Lindsey, controlling Phaedra, controlling me and controlling his own body. We need to make him slip long enough to......do something. I'd welcome suggestions as to what that something should be."
"Can we do with him what we did with Angel? The soul thing?" Jason asked, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed. "Drive out the demon part? Or would that be worse?"
Lindsey shrugged. He hated planning. He wanted to get in, and beat the crap out of Saerian for daring to touch Phaedra.
Spike was inching closer to the door every second. He arched an eyebrow at Jason.
"Dunno," he said. "Magic not my thing." He fought the urge to call Jason "Lassie."
"Ask the witches, but seems to me, we at least know what he looks like this way."
Spike shrugged. "Me and the cowboy?" he grinned. "We want to hit things."
"So your thing is apparently hitting things, and nothing else. Good. Great. Super."
I sighed. Looks like I would have to call the witches, or make Jason do it. "If we drive the demon out, it would be looking for a new body and I'm not sure what we could do to protect ourselves. On the other hand, the soul his body had when he took it over is still there....and he deserves a chance too."
"Don't worry, you can hit Saerian all you want. But we need to be organized about it, or he'll find a way to turn it to his advantage."
"Cuz he ain't got that already..." Lindsey drawled, arching an eyebrow. He looked at the pack of cigarettes Spike still had in his handed, tempted to ask for one. But considering he'd been lying bleeding from said lungs only an hour ago, it probably wasn't a good idea. Damn.
"What about if me and Carr went in?" Jason piped up. "Wolf minds aren't as..." He stopped, frowning as he tried to explain it. "Your brain goes kind of fuzzy. Not human. Do we know if he can control animals? Cuz if he can't, then..." He shrugged.
Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"
He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."
The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.
Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"
He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."
The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.
I shrugged. Let him have a hissy fit, he seemed to like it.
"When Saerian used his mind voodoo on me, I asked Richard and Jean-Claude to take a look at it. Once it was weakened, Richard had no problem shredding it to bits, so maybe you have something there. But it's not enough to completely rely on. It would add to the making-Saerian-crazy trying to control us all, though. Hmmm."
I grabbed my bag off the floor, making sure all my essentials were still there. Never knew what you were going to need when going up against a sociopathic demon.
"The more people, the harder it is for him to control, right?" Jason ignored Spike's little drama queen moment in the corner. Lindsey was silent, yet again, still too drained by what had happened to really argue. Realising his legs felt a little shaky, he found a chair and sat down, sighing.
"Dunno," Spike said, voice a monotone, eyes rolled up in his head. "Think so. Not sure. Need witches."
He started inspecting his fingernails, pushing at the black polish. "Witches? Notably not in this room."
He looked at Lindsey, who had managed to sit. Good for him. "Sitting still makes me twitchy."
I leaned my head back and rolled my eyes. I was always amazed at how immature vampires could be even after living for a couple hundred years. You'd think they would grow up. Well, you think wrong.
"I think what Spike so eloquently is saying is we need to go to the witches to talk about this, so there are no misunderstandings. Plus, he's easily bored by the grown-up talk. Don't worry, we'll get back to short words and loud noises soon."
Lindsey snorted.
"So, can we go now?" He murmured, standing with a quiet hiss of indrawn breath, hiding a wince as best he could. Jason looked at him for a long moment, not blinking. He said nothing, though, climbing to his feet and picking his shirt up off the floor.
Spike glared at Anita. It had been a good evening for glaring, what with her and Buffy.
"Have I not been saying this?" he said, answering Lindsey's question.
Spike made a 'pft' noise, shaking his head and rising. Inside though, he was more than a little glad. They were going to joust that demon, he knew it. Knock him the hell out of that body, out of control.
He couldn't wait.
Contentment wasn't something the demon was used to, but damn if he wasn't there right now.
He'd bristled more than once, found out that Phaedra was still stronger than he realized. But he was winning. As she left now he thought of the worst moment-- during his tenure on top of her on that table, as things progressed, she said Lindsey's name, and he'd slapped her. Hard. Saerian shook his head to clear it.
He'd dressed her and sent her off with a mission. An easy mission, and one that would destroy her like he wanted, while doing what the Senior Partners wanted: kill the pesky cowboy. Shoot him in the heart. Easy. Done.
Dressing her had been more than fun. Getting Phaedra into an incredibly short skirt, and a shirt that actually showed cleavage, was almost more fun than nailing her. That body. That body hidden, covered up... he shook his head again. This was as it should be. Flashes of bare white skin, almost gleaming they were so white. Legs for years, not just days. There was a slight chill in the air, so the duster went back on, but still. Mmmm. He'd licked his lips.
________________________________________
Phaedra was headed back to her hotel room. Saerian told her, with certainty, that's where Lindsey'd gone. Besides, she probably had things there she'd want to bring to his place, he reasoned. But now she was headed back to the hotel, evil glint in her eyes, hips almost swinging.
She walked into the building and the kid at the desk let out a low whistle as she passed. The glare she gave him silenced him, and she headed up in the elevator.
Her floor. Back. Ready to go.
She stopped in front of the door, almost coming back to herself, and felt Saerian's grip tighten. She smirked and laughed, lightly, and opened the door.
Lindsey was perched on the end of her bed, cigarette between his lips, staring at the knife he was tossing back and forth in his hands. His cheek was swollen, eye a nice shade of purpley-red as he looked up.
The cigarette nearly fell from his lips as he took in her appearance. He'd known she had a good body, but...
"Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw..." He muttered, staring at her. He stood, swallowing hard. "Jesus, what brought this on?" He looked her up and down, practically drooling, too distracted to notice what was missing. Her.
"I could, but it'd be needlessly messy." Phaedra smirked. Saerian, sitting alone in his house, grinned. "And it'd waste an awful lot of perfectly good blood."
The vampire's eyebrow raised as Lindsey stood, watching him look her over. She ignored his question. There was no answer, anyway. None that she could really give him. The light dancing in her eyes was nothing but evil as she smiled up at him, a calculated, cold smile. "That looks like it hurts," she said, eyebrows both raising as she looked at the damage her punch had done.
"Could say that..." Lindsey frowned a little, stepping closer.
"Y'alright, darlin'?" He murmured, cupping her face with one hand, enjoying the change of clothes but a little surprised.
Didn't think you'd be in this good a mood. And don't think I've forgiven ya for this... He gestured to his face, but the words were only in his head. Her head.
Phaedra... not the vampire standing there under Saerian's control, but actually Phaedra, winced. The light in the eyes, the darkness, faltered for a few seconds. Then Saerian tightened his grip again. He really hadn't bargained on her being such a fucking troublesome little gypsy.
Her eyes shut, head tilting toward Lindsey's hand as he touched her. "Oh, I'm feelin' better now," she said, grinning at him.
For the pretty bruises? Her eyebrow hitched upward, lips parting slightly, watching him, almost daring him to touch her. Thought you liked it when I hurt you.
Lindsey frowned again, looking deep into her eyes.
"Darlin', you sure you're alright?" He threaded both hands through her hair, thumbs gently smoothing across her cheeks, just as they had in Caritas, just as they had the first time they had kissed.
Like it better when you're screamin' my name... He purred. Hell, he was a red-blooded male, and that outfit...well, it got the blood pumping, all right.
Phaedra stared right back into his.
"Mhmmm," she said.
Lindsey's thoughts went straight to Saerian, and the demon flashed on Phaedra saying Lindsey's name with him. The demon growled, out loud. What happened next was like a glass shattering.
Saerian lost control of her, just for a minute. Not long enough for Phaedra to come back to herself, but long enough that Lindsey might see some difference, if he wasn't blind with lust yet.
So then try to make me scream.
Lindsey's eyelids flickered, and he stepped back, frown deepening further still.
"What's going on?" He murmured, the first trickling of unease sliding down his spine as his hands dropped away from her face.
This ain't like you.
Phaedra shrugged, eyes dancing. She probably had a very, very guilty face on. It was impossible not to.
She raised her chin, exposing a long line of pale neck, and bit her lower lip, as though to keep from laughing.
What's 'like me', Lindsey? Do you even really know?
She released her lip, walking Lindsey backward toward the bed, the movement designed to force him to sit and look up at her-- probably starting with a glance at her bare legs.
And yeah, his eyes were drawn to those pale, pale, legs. Up her body, until he reached his face.
"You've never called me that. Not in here." He tapped his temple, then cocked his head to the side.
What the fuck is goin' on with you, darlin'? That feeling of unease was growing rapidly stronger, and Lindsey's hand began to creep towards his knife, left abandoned on the bed beside him.
Phaedra's face grew relatively serious. "Called you what? Your name?"
Saerian squirmed in his seat. Don't, he thought to himself, tell me these two are actually in love... just fucking don't.
He knew Phaedra cared for Lindsey; that was all the weakness he needed. But love... love meant inside jokes. And bonds. And things he could never, EVER know about.
Not without her telling him.
Oh, fuck.
I'm not sure, she thought at him. Wasn't a lie... Green eyes darted toward his hand, closing in on the knife. "You going to stab me?" Her voice was full of laughter. Phaedra leaned forward, straddling Lindsey's lap, despite the skirt, looking him in the face, right in the eyes. Her eyes still danced, Saerian's laughter behind them. "Why?"
"Cuz this ain't you." He stood, sharply enough that she fell off his lap, striding away from her.
"Tell me what you said before you left, darlin'. What did you call me?" His eyes were desperate, pleading with her to know, to tell him. Because if she didn't....oh God, don't let that be true, please don't let that be true.
Luckily, vampires usually land on their feet. Kind of like cats.
Phaedra stood, almost defiantly, a serious, more-than-hint of danger in the look she was giving Lindsey. Meanwhile, Saerian was reading all the thoughts from her that he could, not finding it. Not finding anything that would help.
Yeah. They were in love. Saerian swore, aware that Phaedra's life could actually be in danger, if Lindsey could bring himself to end it. A stray thought, all Phaedra, floated to Saerian. Smarter than you thought, you sonofabitch. And if I'm not the one to kill you, he will be. Count on it.
Just for that, shaking his head at how goddamn brazen Phaedra was being, Saerian gripped harder, like tightening the reins on a horse.
"I told you you weren't coming with me," she said, glaring at Lindsey now. That's all she said... because that's all Saerian had. "And I gave you that." There was a nod to the bruise, followed by a smirk.
"That ain't what I asked." Lindsey practically growled now, that flicker of fear and anger and...jealousy? in her eyes sending chills down his spine. This wasn't his girl. Only a few days, and he knew that.
Knew this wasn't her. Or at least, not her in control. Reaching to the small of his back, he gently clicked the safety off on his gun, knowing he didn't have a chance in hell of shooting her; knowing he couldn't bring himself to even to save his own neck.
And knowing that would be his downfall.
Phaedra smiled at him, almost sweetly.
"Oops."
The laughter that followed was dark, and close to sinister. She heard everything, Lindsey going for his gun, knew down to a fraction of a second how much time there was, what was going on. Phaedra was a professional killer. It was her job to know that. Pair that with who was driving... and the combination was more than lethal. It was malignant.
She shook her head, making calm 'tsk' noises at Lindsey. "Lindsey...."
Phaedra, or, really, Saerian now... the pretense was over... said his name like it was part of a song. Holland Manners used to say it this way. She tilted her head. Had Lindsey not been dazzled by her outfit, he'd have noticed something else not right--no daggers.
But there was a gun. And now it was in her hand. "Wanna play chicken, hm? See who swerves first?"
Phaedra's pale, small hand, clicked back the safety on her own gun, holding it out, aiming it. There was a slow grin. "It won't be me, baby."
Lindsey pulled out his gun, aiming it right back at her, tilting his head a little.
"Saerian, I presume?" He spoke clearly, coolly, holding the gun steady, two-handed.
"Get the fuck out of her." He growled, gaze and hand perfectly still, even as he suppressed the urge to shake with rage. To scream and curse and force him out of there. He knew that wouldn't work.
Saerian, across town, laughed out loud.
So did Phaedra.
"Good guess," she said, nodding emphatically, as if maybe Lindsey were retarded. "I'm not actually in her," Phaedra said, eyebrow arching. Saerian had decided to be as cruel as possible. Love wasn't supposed to be in the cards. "Well, not right now."
Phaedra winked.
Lindsey'd get the gist.
"Yelling at me won't get her back," she said. "She's in there, right now, anyway. And she is mightily pissed off. But I gave her a job to do, Lindsey."
Phaedra's hand chambered a round. Locked and loaded, ready to go. Saerian really loved guns. "Yipee-ky-yay."
"Son of a bitch." Lindsey cursed softly, stepping closer, gun still pointed right between Phaedra's eyes. But he couldn't. Couldn't shoot her, couldn't risk losing her. His hand wavered, face crumbling, just for a moment, smoothing out into an expressionless mask as he lowered his gun, dropping it onto the carpet with a dull thud.
"Good boy."
The delivery of the words was deadpan. All that there was of Phaedra right now was the body, the face.
"By the way? Even if you shot her, point blank, wouldn't have killed her," Phaedra's voice said. There was a grin.
She sighed, shoulders rising and falling. "I'll give you the same courtesy The Conduit gave me."
Both eyebrows raised. Saerian concentrated as hard as he could, Phaedra fighting him every step of the way.
She aimed for his heart. "Last words, Mr. McDonald?" The cadence, the delivery, was all Saerian. "She could've been a sharpshooter, she's that good. She won't miss."
"She won't miss you either." Lindsey snarled, "She'll kill you for this." He smirked. "And she'll do it with a smile." He swallowed hard, looking deep into her eyes. If this was it, there was so much he wanted to say.
But not to him. Not where he could hear. And so silence it was.
"It was good while it lasted, darlin'." Was all he said, standing, waiting. No point in running now.
"So colorful," she said, eyes rolling.
All Saerian's effort went to squeezing that trigger. It was halfway back when he started losing his control.
It was good while it lasted, darlin'.
Phaedra shook her head, as if to clear it, realizing she had less than the space of a breath to do anything, let alone save Lindsey's life. A sad smile spread across her face. Oddly enough, Lindsey's last sentence is what snapped her back.
Clear eyes regarded him, then filled with sadness. I can't stop him, ves'tacha
Saerian was throwing a lamp now, in frustration.
All I can do is... Her arm moved, aiming instead for Lindsey's stomach. Phaedra lost control again, a ragged gasp torn out of her throat as Saerian pushed her back down, back and away.
Her hand squeezed the trigger quickly, twice.
Lindsey felt her rise, a moment of glee before white hot pain lanced through him. He couldn't help the shocked look that crossed his face, knowing that it wasn't her, and yet seeing her shoot him. He fell to his knees, crumpling to the floor as he looked down at his chest, one hole in the center, the other a little below.
He slowly raised a hand to touch the wounds, fingertips coming away crimson as he began to slump sideways.
Phaedra put up the gun, and it was out of sight in few seconds. She calmly strode over to him, leaning down, eyes glistening again, and pushed hair out of Lindsey's face.
"You got lucky," she said. "She might've made sure the wounds aren't fatal." Phaedra tilted her head. "I distinctly remember telling you," she said, voice taking on the timbre of Saerian's, "not to fucking fall for her."
She stood, walking out of the room, still completely unaware of what Phaedra called Lindsey.
She'd buried it as deep as it would go, a place he'd never get to.
Lindsey watched her leave through hazy eyes, heart breaking, just a little. He curled up on the floor, struggling to breathe now, crawling towards the phone achingly slowly. Dragging himself up on to the bed, he held very, very still for a while, pressing a hand against his side, against the wound that he was pretty sure had torn through his lung.
Lindsey picked up his phone, praising whatever god had made him save her number.
*******
He pressed 'call', struggling to lift the phone to his ear, wheezing softly.
" 'nita?" He couldn't hear properly, blood rushing in his ears, pulse slowing, eyes dragged shut. "M'at Phaedra's room. Ssaerian...she's his...gun..." He knew it wasn't making sense, couldn't help it. The phone slid out of his hand, falling to the floor as Lindsey curled up, giving in to the pain.
As if my night wasn't bad enough. First I go head to head with psycho vampire demon, then I come back to the hotel to find Carr gone and Jason hyped up, now Redneck McBubba, Esquire calls my cell phone.
Doesn't having a shitty life give me the excuse to not answer? Guess not.
I pushed the button and snapped,"What?!?" but I could barely hear Lindsey's voice. I strained my ears, heard his words.
Shit had just gone from bad to worse.
"Hey! Answer me! Where are you?" I yelled into the phone, but he had already dropped it. I looked at Jason and raised an eyebrow.
"You up to tracking Cowboy Billie Bob right now? I'm going to grab my gear, get ready to go." I slipped my holster on, the knives went on my upper arms and the backpack with my animating tools went on my back. Might as well be prepared for every eventuality, right?
Lilah had stayed in the room of her hotel after Phaedra left and Lindsey had finally woken up and left as well-with only a few insults. He was too worried about Phae to concentrate on his ex-rival, it seemed. After making phone calls to reassure her mother's safety-and checking in with the LA firm-Lilah had finally been ready to fall into bed-and had done so.
And at oh-fuckin' early-in the morning, she'd heard the gunshots, and had jerked awake. She blinked, pushing long dark strands out of her face, as she tried to orient herself. After a few minutes of silence, suspicions convinced her to exit the bed and leave her hotel room-dressed only in silk pajamas...but also carrying her gun.
She headed unerringly for Phaedra and Lindsey's room, and nudged the door open, stepping in to see the bleeding Lindsey. Her gun was aimed at him, first...then shifted to move around the room to be sure it was empty. Finally, she lowered it and walked over, kneeling next to him. "You're probably going to think my being here is a nightmare-or you're already being punished by the Partners-but I'll help if you let me."
Lindsey dragged heavy eyelids open, glaring at her.
"Don' need your help." He gritted out through clenched teeth, curled up on the bed, hands pressed tight against his wounds. He'd passed out for a bit, but sadly Lilah's voice had woken him up. Oblivion was a much more welcome option.
"Saerian's got her." He growled. "He's controllin' her." He closed his eyes for a long moment, wheezing.
"Wanna help? Git me a plastic bag n' some tape." Whatever he'd seen in Phaedra's eyes, that glimmer of her inside, was keeping him fighting now. Or at least, keeping him awake. Fighting was a lost cause by now. He tried to reach for the phone, pained sob escaping as he realised that was a really bad idea.
Shit, Anita.
"Call Anita. S'the last number. Tell her 'm here. She needs..." HE was shivering now. "She needs t'be warned 'bout Phaedra."
"I heard. And I already knew about Saerian. Had my own run-in with him earlier, but he moved more quickly than I expected."
Both their heads swiveled towards me. Yea, it helped being all mysterious. It also helped having a wolf to track down the bleeding bastard. Blood's a nice, strong smell to track.
I bent down over Lindsey, checked out his wound. It looked bad, as in not good at all.
I looked at Jason. "He's not pack. Do you think I could still share power with him since he's got his own magic?"
Lindsey jerked his head up, breath hissing through his teeth. He had his hand pressed against the wound in his chest, but the one on his stomach was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a lovely red patch on the bedsheets.
He looked between Jason and Anita, watching as Jason shrugged, chewing on his lower lip.
"Worth a try?" The young werewolf suggested, carefully shutting the door to Phaedra's room. Didn't do to go scaring the rest of the hotel, after all.
Spike had done a decent job of staying out of Phaedra's way. And Lindsey's, for that matter. Two of them could shag themselves down and IQ class, far as he was concerned.
But he did know where the hotel was, which room it was. He'd brought back Phaedra's daggers out of respect.
That didn't mean Spike was the good guy.
Walking past the hotel, on his way to the butcher's, coming back from a spirited chit-chat with Buffy (sarcasm), Spike saw Phaedra leaving the building. In a rush, yeah... but the outfit. The outfit just screamed at him.
There was a low, malevolent laugh, and Spike fell into step beside her for a second. "Love," he said, blue eyes wide, drinking her in over and over, running up and down from her face, over her bared neck, down to her long, exposed legs... "maybe you should shack up with idiots more often."
She'd turned her head, smirking, the look on her face practically daring him to go on. "Looks good on you," he said, biting at his lower lip.
Spike had rested a hand tentatively on her shoulder, and really, he was playing with Phaedra. He kinda wanted her now, yeah, but... there was always a but. And it always had to do with Buffy.
And the stronger vampire, in her short skirt, had punched him in the jaw and walked away. "Stay away from me," she'd said.
Rubbing his jaw, eyebrows furrowed, he'd gone into the hotel, and up to her room, intending to ask Lindsey what the bloody hell was going on.
And seen the entire fucking population of Sunnydale, right there.
"Want to fill a bloke in, then?" Spike asked, peering in through the door. "Your girl just popped me one. And from the looksa things... popped you two."
"Too bad-you've got it, for now." She started for the phone, then stopped when she heard a voice from behind, and looked over to the woman-who must have been Anita. Stepping out of the way, she arched a brow at the talk of power sharing. What was this about?
Then Spike showed up. Lilah gave him one long look, then returned her attention to Lindsey. Hey, at least she could find out what was happening, even if there wasn't really anything to do to 'help', now.
"Oh great." I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "This? This is what you give me to deal with? Now I not only have bleeding cowboy, I have sarcastic vampire. Why do you hate me?"
Shaking my head, I looked over the wounds and spoke to Spike without looking at him. "Saerian went to the Conduit and got vamped. He came back and took over Phaedra, made her shoot Lindsey. Now we've got to save him and get rid of Saerian somehow. Got it?"
I motioned Jason over. If we were going to try and share power, we would need to raise it somehow....probably with skin.
Jason nodded. He'd seen Anita share power often enough. He grinned a little, hands going to the hem of his shirt.
"Is this the bit where I get to be naked? Or am I stripping off surly and bleeding over there?" He waggled his eyebrows, as Lindsey attempted to swear at them both. And cried out in pain as movement caused stars behind his eyes.
Jason was trying to ignore the scent of Lindsey's blood - superpowered blood, at that - though his eyes were a little less human-looking, hooded and dark.
Spike glared at Anita for her outburst. Bitch was stealing his moves, yellin' up to the Almighty like that.
He stepped into the room completely, watching the proceedings, brow furrowed.
"Saerian did what?"
His voice was about an octave lower than it should've been. He worked his jaw. Still hurt. Phaedra could punch like a champ. "How you gonna save this one? He's..."
Spike didn't say it. He actually managed NOT to ask if he could drink him if he died, too.
I glared at him. "You heard me. Do I need to repeat it slower with smaller words for you or something?"
I shoved Lindsey's shoulder back towards the ground and pulled the remnants of his shirt out of the wounds. I knew it hurt, but I couldn't afford to be sympathetic. It needed to be clean if we were going to attempt this, or even if he was to be saved in any way, mystical or medical.
"I think we both at least need to be skin to skin to raise the power in the first place. After that, I'll have to touch him." Looking at Lindsey, I said, "Trust me, I won't like that any more than you will. But I can't let you die. We need you to kick Saerian's ass." I nodded my head towards Spike. "You too. And no, he's not going to die so stop looking at him like he's filet mignon and you've been stuck on a vegetarian diet for 6 years."
Lindsey gritted his teeth to hold in a scream as Anita removed what was left of his shirt, the fabric stuck to his chest with drying and wet blood, chest making rather disturbing sucking noises as he struggled to breathe.
Jason had shed his shirt, climbing up onto the bed and lifting Lindsey's head into his lap, despite the other man's weak protest. He looked at Anita, waiting for her to tell him what to do.
Spike just stood back, offended and a little sad. Anita yelled at him, and he was still a bit messed up from Buffy.
Plus, no human blood. Vampire sad.
He watched with raised eyebrows as clothes came off. The hell kind of healing was this, and why was it not around whenever he needed something?
I pulled my own t-shirt off, leaving me in my black bra and my jeans. I slid off my boots and socks, I always felt more comfortable doing this barefoot. I mean, really if you're going to be topless or doing sexy stuff, the only shoes you should be wearing are high heeled 'fuck-me' stilettos or boots. And I tended to avoid wearing those foot-torture devices as much as possible.
I ran one hand up Lindsey's chest to get a feel for the wound, not sexual at all. The other hand, though, reached out to pull Jason closer, sandwiching the wounded one between us. That was much more sexual, especially as I pulled him in for a kiss.
Jason could smell the blood, feel quickened breathing as Lindsey's chest rose and fell against his, laboured and pained as he moved the injured man until he was pressed between them. He kissed Anita hungrily, feeling his beast rise, rolling over and over, power sparkling between them, almost like a golden glow on invisible fur, swelling up as he pushed his power into her.
I fed on his arousal, his power. I pulled it into me and used it to raise the magic inside me that I still didn't quite understand. I didn't know how my necromancy or bond to the pack could let me heal but I was more than willing to use it.
I wasn't sure if Lindsey's magic would interfere or welcome the pack energy.
I plunged my fingers into the wound in his stomach, ignoring his cry for the moment. I fed the power into it, hoping it would at least stop the bleeding or knit the wound for long enough to think up a better idea He wasn't pack, so I couldn't completely heal him but I could do this, at least.
Lindsey's cry was a little more difficult for Jason to ignore; all it did was make his beast flare up stronger, blood making him moan. fingers digging in to Lindsey's shoulders.
The human whimpered between them, staring wide-eyed at Anita, feeling the answering tug of power somewhere in his chest, tattoos seeming to stand up off his flesh for just an instant. He could feel his flesh knit together, starting to heal in a way that should be impossible. He took a deep breath, gasping as his lung re-inflated, sealed the breach.
Not healed, not fully. But close. Shallow wounds now, rather than deep holes in his body.
I threw my head back as Lindsey's whimpers reached my ears. I practically dragged Jason over the no-longer-so-wounded redneck so I could run my hands over him. The side effects of the power raised for healing often lasted far longer than it took to raise it in the first place.
I completely ignored Lilah and Spike, didn't even notice if they were still here. Hope they enjoyed the show, because it sure as hell was going on.
Jason growled softly into the kiss, pushing Anita down against the bed. He lifted his head a little, picking up her hand in his, raising it to his lips and sucking her fingers clean, hungrily.
Lindsey lay on the bed, forgotten by Jason and Anita, looking down at his chest in mild disbelief. He gingerly got to his feet, swaying a little, slowly making his way towards Phaedra's bathroom. Hopefully there'd be something in there he could use as a bandage.
There was no way Saerian was getting away with this.
Spike was standing off to the side, slack-jawed. He knew Anita had power over the dead... but what was this?
His eyebrow danced as Lindsey got up, watching the man walk... when two damn minutes ago he'd started a countdown to his last breath.
A seriously dirty smirk crossed his face, and a comment was shot over his shoulder to Anita and Jason. "Alright, then," he said, voice almost a purr. "Nice trick. It work on vampires?"
With that, he turned and went into the bathroom, watching Lindsey's face carefully. "Was it good for you too?" He asked.
But his face was completely serious. Hard, even. Spike didn't like what was going on anymore than Lindsey.
Lindsey leant against the wall, chuckling tiredly.
"Thrill a minute." He sat down heavily on the toilet seat, reaching for a towel, running it under cold water and trying to clean off some of the blood.
"You got a better idea what the fuck that was?" He nodded next door, dreading to think what Anita and Jason were up to now. And smirking a bit as he realised he'd left Lilah in there with them.
Spike was doing his best to ignore the blood, and not just lick Lindsey where he stood.
"Energy, mate," he said, shrugging. "I knew Anita had power over the dead... guess she has power over the wolves, too. No bloody idea beyond that."
He stood in the room now, not reflecting in the mirror near the sink. He smirked.
"You have a plan? I hate the bastard, too, y'know." Spike rubbed unconsciously at his jaw as he said so, then crossed his arms, leather jacket creaking.
"Ain't got much of anythin' right now." Lindsey murmured, tossing the bloodied towel into the bath. He sat back against the toilet seat, eyes closing as he sighed heavily.
After a long moment, he cracked an eye open, looking at Spike. "You're the only one who's not going to get turned into a fucking puppet if you walk in there with him. Mind you, if he's busy controlling Phaedra, not like he'll be able to control anyone else...maybe." That, he wasn't certain of. Not now Saerian was a vampire.
"No plan, but I ain't just sitting here."
"Then don't sit 'ere," Spike said, smirk starting across his face.
"Can't say I'm overly fond of you," he said. "But your girl? I have nothing but respect for her. And that stupid, prissy git messin' with her head? Least favorite blighter ever."
He stood straight, Adam's apple standing out of his throat. "I never pretend to be the brains of any operation, not bloody well ever. But I'll help you. Especially after..."
Spike's eyes went far away, glassed over. "Buffy."
He raised an eyebrow at Lindsey, wondering if he really got what was being said.
Lindsey looked at him, and nodded. Yeah, he got it.
He folded up some toilet paper, pressing it against the shallow wounds on chest and stomach, trying to stop them bleeding, use them as a makeshift bandage. It'd hurt like fuck trying to get them off again, but he wanted to not be bleeding through his clothes when they faced Saerian again. Being in a room with three vampires, and bleeding, was really not a good plan.
He looked around, trying to see if there was a...ahah. Flipping open the front of the mirror, he pulled out a small first aid kit. Not much, but it'd do. He pulled out pads and tape, trying and failing to open them one-handed without bleeding over everything.
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[info]_spike
2007-06-15 13:01 (link) DeleteFreezeScreen Select
Spike bit his lip.
Good thing he wasn't a spur-of-the-moment type vampire. Good thing he had self control. He managed to tear his eyes away from the blood absorbing into a cotton pad as Lindsey taped it, blinking.
"He's not just gonna drop her, mate," Spike said, leaning on the wall. "We had to make him drop Buffy. Witches had to, yeah?" He shook his head, eyebrow twitching again. "Pardon an observation, but Phaedra's an awful lot of trouble. Pft. Seems like the whole of Sunnydale is forever runnin' after her."
A slow grin came over his face. He couldn't help it. "She worth it?"
Lindsey looked up, and arched one eyebrow. And smiled a slow, lazy, utterly wicked smile.
"Think I'd have stood there and let her shoot me if she wasn't?" He pointed out, shaking his head. "She's...yeah, she's somethin'." And yeah, maybe his smile went a little softer, a little more sappy. Tended to happen when he wasn't concentrating on how he looked.
In fact, the smile was pretty much the same one he'd had when he'd picked Phaedra up, back in the warehouse.
"So, what's the plan?" He looked up, blinking a little as if brushing off whatever daydream he'd been falling into. Probably one with naked Phaedras.
"We get the witch to work their mojo? Drive the demon outta the...demon?"
Spike saw the face, saw Lindsey's entire demeanor change, and laughed, but just once.
He had no damn room to be laughing, and he knew it. He wanted a Slayer; he was just as screwed up over a woman.
"So... you pulled a gun on her, too?" Spike raised and lowered both eyebrows. "Good on you. Guess you...couldn't do it, then."
He was more musing than asking. Huh. Love was a funny thing.
"I told you," Spike said, shaking his head, "I am not the go-to-vampire for plans. Ask the Sexecutioner out there."
He sighed. "But if it were me? If this were..." Spike bit his lower lip as if he were going to stop speaking. He didn't. "... were my girl?" He had to fight not to picture Buffy. Spike shook his head again, as if to clear it. "I'd already be out there. Chasin' Saerian. Chasin' her."
"Yeah." Lindsey screwed up his face. "Came close, but...couldn't." Taping up the last edge of bandage, he stood.
"Only thing stoppin' me was bleedin' over the damn floor." He walked to the doorway, waiting for Spike to move. He was sure he'd left at least one shirt kicking about Phaedra's floor.
If not...hell, he'd go without a shirt. He wasn't leaving Phaedra in Saerian's hands. 'Specially not from what Saerian had been saying. What he'd made her do.
Sinking into the bed Lindsey had just kindly vacated for us, I shivered as Jason's tongue slipped over my fingers. I felt the pull deep inside with every move of his mouth.
I moved my clean hand down his cheek, down his neck and over his shoulder. I dug my nails into his back and gasped, drawing his shirtless chest even closer.
Jason growled gently, nipping at her fingers as he pressed closer, letting Anita's fingers slip free of his mouth. He nuzzled at her neck, behind her ear, burying himself in her scent as he ground his hips down against her, clearly very happy to be in the position he was.
I trailed my wet, clean fingers down his chest. My other hand moved down to his hip, pressed him even closer than before.
I moved one leg up so that my calf rested against his butt, pressed him warm and hard against me as I nibbled on his neck.
A shudder ran down Jason's spine as he pressed impossibly closer, moaning softly.
" 'nita..." He breathed, panting softly. He whimpered low in his throat, rocking against her, arms braced against the mattress as he kissed her again.
I slid my hand inside Jason's pants, unbuttoning the top as I slid my leg along his.
I pressed his hand to my chest as I leaned my head back against the bed, biting down on his lower lip.
Jason moaned loudly, hips bucking towards her, breath coming roughly now. He growled approval as Anita caught his lip between her teeth, kissing her fiercely, harshly.
His hand slipped inside her bra, a little awkward at the angle they were laying at, pinching her nipple between his fingers.
I moaned as he slid his hand over my breast and wrapped both legs around his waist. I dug my heels into his butt as I slid my tongue between his teeth, kissing him deeply.
I vaguely knew Lindsey and Spike were in the bathroom, and Lilah was somewhere, but I didn't care. I just wanted more skin, more warmth, jsut more.
That made two of them. Jason grinned into the kiss, drinking down that soft moan, scraping short fingernails over the curve of her breast. He thrust against her, settling into a rhythm, not caring that the button of his jeans was digging into his stomach, just needing the friction so fucking badly.
I panted into his ear with each thrust, raising my hips to grind into his. I shuddered as I felt his nails on my breast, the pain merging with pleasure as it always did for me. Jason knew what I liked by now. I liked it rough, liked knowing how desperate he was for me.
Jason mewled softly as Anita ground up hard against him, shuddering as he came in his jeans, arms trembling as he held his body up off hers, hips still jerking softly, rubbing against her, over and over, panting breaths corrupted by soft moans.
I threw my head back and moaned as I felt him shudder and twist against me, triggering my own orgasm. Sinking my teeth down into his shoulder, I gasped with the tremors and held on to him tight.
I leaned my forehead against his as he rubbed against me, using one hand to pull the sweaty hair off the back of my neck. I knew we had to get up and deal with the rest of the world, but dammit, I really didn't feel moving. At all. Like for the next few days.
Jason panted softly, breathing calming slowly as he nuzzled at Anita's neck, reluctantly rolling off her and on to his back.
"Mmmm. We should do that more often." He murmured sleepily, wriggling about more catlike than wolflike, broad grin as he writhed contentedly against the sheets.
I stretched my arms over my head and arched my back, lossening up my neck. Even with the relaxation that came after sex, the muscles around my neck and shoulders were still tense. Stupid Sunnydale.
"We should. We really should. Though since we've done it a few times since you got her,e I'm not sure when we would even have the time. I have a very busy schedule." I grinned and bit down on his shoulder lightly. "I'd be happy to try and fit you in, though."
Spike and Lindsey came out of the bathroom just in time to see Anita and Jason... winding things up.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Lovely," he said, shoving his hands into his duster pockets. Why did everyone get to have sex, except him? "And can we go now, then? Or do you lot need some kind of post-coital cigarette?"
He reached into his jacket and removed a pack, smirking as he extended his hand.
Jason snorted, looking down at his jeans and grimacing.
"No, but I could use a clean pair of pants..." Lindsey made a face, but nodded towards a pair of jeans on the floor.
"Those should be mostly clean." He murmured, though the thought of the werewolf going commando in his pants was kind of...well, he'd be doing laundry before he wore 'em again.
Jason rolled off the bed in one fluid movement, shucking off his rather messy pants and pulling on Lindsey's discarded jeans.
"It smells like gypsy and sex in 'ere," Spike said, wrinkling his nose. "Wonderful. Again, I say, can we go?"
Both eyebrows raised impatiently. He really was ready to kick Saerian until he bled, and part of him didn't want to be in Phaedra's room. It was a thing. Vampire lair, respect, etc.
"Hold your horses, undead wonder," I muttered as I sat up off the bed. I had long since ceased to care that people knew when I had sex, they can just shut up and be jealous all quiet-like.
I put my hair up in a ponytail and pulled my shirt off the floor where I had thrown it earlier. Sliding it over my head, I watched Jason pull on Lindsey's pants. I owed him some new clothes.....and a lot more. Later.
I cracked my neck. "Ok, now we're ready. I'm assuming the impatience means we have some sort of plan, right?" I raised an eyebrow and looked between the cowboy and the vampire. That felt like it should be a joke, but I wasn't going to go there. I looked at Lindsey's shiny new blood-less shirt and asked, "How are you feeling? Well enough to leave the room for a while?"
"Where'r we going?" Jason had missed that part of the conversation. Mostly because he was...busy. With the sexing.
"We're goin' after Saerian." Lindsey looked at Anita, and nodded. "Even if I wasn't, you think you'd stop me?" He smiled a little, voice quiet. "Thank you. For...whatever the hell that was."
Sitting on the end of the bed, Jason started rolling up the cuffs of his pants; Lindsey was a liiittle taller than him.
Spike smirked at Jason, rolling up the pants. Little wolf. Heh.
"Good trick, that," he nodded, after Lindsey's thank you.
"Doubt this git will be too hard to find. He's so full of himself. I wish I could eat his heart."
"Yea, it's a talent. Came along with the being haunted by the munin, though, so I'd be more than willing to give it back." I made a face at Jason, who smiled angelically back at me. I knew the lukoi were happy I could share power with them and heal, but it was one more item on the freak checklist for me.
"You may not be able to eat his heart, but we can try to come up with a close second. You're the only one who can hit him, and it takes a lot of power for him to take me over. I'm thinking maybe we can double-team him, give him so much to focus on that he can't do any one thing well. He'll have to pick between fighting Spike, fighting Lindsey, controlling Phaedra, controlling me and controlling his own body. We need to make him slip long enough to......do something. I'd welcome suggestions as to what that something should be."
"Can we do with him what we did with Angel? The soul thing?" Jason asked, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed. "Drive out the demon part? Or would that be worse?"
Lindsey shrugged. He hated planning. He wanted to get in, and beat the crap out of Saerian for daring to touch Phaedra.
Spike was inching closer to the door every second. He arched an eyebrow at Jason.
"Dunno," he said. "Magic not my thing." He fought the urge to call Jason "Lassie."
"Ask the witches, but seems to me, we at least know what he looks like this way."
Spike shrugged. "Me and the cowboy?" he grinned. "We want to hit things."
"So your thing is apparently hitting things, and nothing else. Good. Great. Super."
I sighed. Looks like I would have to call the witches, or make Jason do it. "If we drive the demon out, it would be looking for a new body and I'm not sure what we could do to protect ourselves. On the other hand, the soul his body had when he took it over is still there....and he deserves a chance too."
"Don't worry, you can hit Saerian all you want. But we need to be organized about it, or he'll find a way to turn it to his advantage."
"Cuz he ain't got that already..." Lindsey drawled, arching an eyebrow. He looked at the pack of cigarettes Spike still had in his handed, tempted to ask for one. But considering he'd been lying bleeding from said lungs only an hour ago, it probably wasn't a good idea. Damn.
"What about if me and Carr went in?" Jason piped up. "Wolf minds aren't as..." He stopped, frowning as he tried to explain it. "Your brain goes kind of fuzzy. Not human. Do we know if he can control animals? Cuz if he can't, then..." He shrugged.
Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"
He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."
The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.
Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"
He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."
The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.
I shrugged. Let him have a hissy fit, he seemed to like it.
"When Saerian used his mind voodoo on me, I asked Richard and Jean-Claude to take a look at it. Once it was weakened, Richard had no problem shredding it to bits, so maybe you have something there. But it's not enough to completely rely on. It would add to the making-Saerian-crazy trying to control us all, though. Hmmm."
I grabbed my bag off the floor, making sure all my essentials were still there. Never knew what you were going to need when going up against a sociopathic demon.
"The more people, the harder it is for him to control, right?" Jason ignored Spike's little drama queen moment in the corner. Lindsey was silent, yet again, still too drained by what had happened to really argue. Realising his legs felt a little shaky, he found a chair and sat down, sighing.
"Dunno," Spike said, voice a monotone, eyes rolled up in his head. "Think so. Not sure. Need witches."
He started inspecting his fingernails, pushing at the black polish. "Witches? Notably not in this room."
He looked at Lindsey, who had managed to sit. Good for him. "Sitting still makes me twitchy."
I leaned my head back and rolled my eyes. I was always amazed at how immature vampires could be even after living for a couple hundred years. You'd think they would grow up. Well, you think wrong.
"I think what Spike so eloquently is saying is we need to go to the witches to talk about this, so there are no misunderstandings. Plus, he's easily bored by the grown-up talk. Don't worry, we'll get back to short words and loud noises soon."
Lindsey snorted.
"So, can we go now?" He murmured, standing with a quiet hiss of indrawn breath, hiding a wince as best he could. Jason looked at him for a long moment, not blinking. He said nothing, though, climbing to his feet and picking his shirt up off the floor.
Spike glared at Anita. It had been a good evening for glaring, what with her and Buffy.
"Have I not been saying this?" he said, answering Lindsey's question.
Spike made a 'pft' noise, shaking his head and rising. Inside though, he was more than a little glad. They were going to joust that demon, he knew it. Knock him the hell out of that body, out of control.
He couldn't wait.