Fic: Imperial [4/7]

This entry is part 4 of 7 in the series Imperial
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Title: Imperial, Chapter 3: Goodbye Iowa
Author: Sunalso
Pairings: Buffy/Spike (Willow/Oz, Xander/Anya)
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~21 K (this chapter: 4118)
Timeline: Prologue S3, the rest S4, this is an alternate reality world in which things didn’t go quite the same for Buffy at the end of S2
Warnings: Character Death, Violence (including gun violence), Sexual Situations
Summary: Buffy returns to Sunnydale in order to take down the Initiative and find her chosen mate, she’s just a little different than when she left. My love letter to heroic bloodshed movies (Think: Mi:II, Wanted, The Matrix). This one’s for fun!
Notes: The Initiative is bigger and badder than in canon. Beta’d by Gort and 13Lilies. Response to a challenge on Elysian Fields by Sharade.


Chapter 3: Goodbye Iowa

My lashes are dry
     -Lady Gaga, “Paparazzi”

****
A couple of hours, one blueberry muffin, and several cups of black coffee later, Giles returned to his apartment. He still wasn’t sure helping Buffy was the right thing to do, but no matter how he looked at it he came to the same conclusion: it was the safest. An Empress left strictly to her own devices without counsel could render most of the California coastline unrecognizable on a whim.

He let himself into the apartment. The lights were out and there was no sign of Buffy or Spike. Good Lord, surely the vampire wouldn’t have taken her out anywhere. Though he might have had very little choice if she’d ordered him to. Giles groaned, there was no telling where they could have gotten off to.

He trudged up the stairs, loosening his tie. In the darkness he nearly ran into Spike.

“She’s resting, Watcher. Better you go back the way you came and make your bed on the couch tonight.” The vampire’s voice was low and menacing.

“Lost my room, have I?”

Spike shifted into his demonic face. “Go, Watcher,” he hissed around his fangs.

It was the last straw. He would not be threatened by any vampire, especially not this one, and most certainly not in his own home. He pulled a stake out of his jacket pocket. “I’m sure the Empress can find another guard dog.”

“Oh, bloody hell, none of that.” Spike grabbed Giles’ wrist and twisted until the Watcher grunted in pain and dropped the stake into the vampire’s waiting palm.

“How did…you shouldn’t…” Giles stumbled backwards a step.

Spike’s fanged grin looked macabre in the low light. “Oh, by the way, Rupes, this dog got its muzzle off.”

Buffy had removed his chip. Giles pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she would have. Spike was of much more use to her as a fighter than a gofer.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch, then.” He turned to descend the stairs.

“Spike?” Buffy’s muffled voice came from the bed behind him.

Giles looked over his shoulder in time to see the vampire sink to one knee beside the bed. “Yes, your Grace?”

“This world is strange. I miss my home.” Her voice was tiny and Giles’ heart broke. There was the girl, hidden under all that power. The girl that’d worried about fitting in, that was frightened of being alone.

Spike grasped her hand in both of his. “This world used to be your home, luv, you’ve just been gone a long time. You’ll get it fixed up right, it needs you. Your chums too, they’re so happy to see you.” His voice was soft and soothing.

“When I go home Spike, will you come with me?”

“I’d follow you anywhere.”

“Thank you.” The vampire bowed his head over their joined hands, looking incongruously like he was praying.

With a shake of his head Giles returned to his living room. He snapped the light on over his desk. With all that coffee he was never going to be able to sleep. Scanning his shelves, he found the copy of a thirteenth century manuscript he was looking for. It was one of the few that spoke of Demon Empresses as more than a fairy tale. Above him the bed dipped and the springs squeaked slightly in protest. He shot the loft an alarmed look, but everything quieted back down immediately.

Well, he supposed it was good at least someone was getting some rest.

****

Buffy woke up in a panic. She wasn’t alone. Only that couldn’t be. No one was allowed in her sleeping chambers. She started to sit up and the arm around her tightened.

“Not yet, luv, not yet,” a voice murmured from beside her. She turned. Spike. Her whole body relaxed. Of course. She’d been alone in the night, and far from home, and she’d asked the vampire to hold her. She felt silly now. A centuries old Empress did not need a…man to put his arms around her in order to feel safe. She couldn’t tell if he was awake or not.

“Spike?” she asked softly. He shifted and his whole body pressed against her. A smile curved her lips as it became apparent at least some parts of him were awake. The vampire hadn’t disappointed her the night before, when she’d finally felt sated and had given him permission to touch himself. Despite his obvious need for release he’d made sure she’d watched him as he slowly undid his fly, pushed his pants partway down his thighs, and fisted his not unimpressive erection. She been tempted to pull him back to her and make good use of him, but she had her future mate to think of. While her destined man was a nebulous mystery at the moment, she would find him in the next day or two, and there were some lines she should not cross before then. So she’d simply watched her vampire’s jaw clench as he’d brought himself off with deft strokes. He’d cried out her name, her real one, as he’d peaked, which had pleased her greatly.

Now she reached down, gripping his shaft tightly through his jeans. His eyes fluttered as he woke. “Your Grace?” he asked, confused, even as his hips rocked his hard-on against her palm.

“You should eat. Tonight will be busy.” She tilted her head, offering him the bare expanse of her throat. Spike cuddled in close to her, his face shifting as his lips found her pulse. She intertwined his fingers with hers and guided his hand between her legs while she worked her other hand into his pants to wrap her fingers around his cock. “Now bite,” she instructed him, crying out as his fingers and fangs invaded her body at the same time. He moved the two digits in her core in time with the pulls of blood he took, while the rough pad of his thumb rubbed over her clit.

God, it felt good. It’d been far too long since she’d had a bed partner. She just couldn’t afford to show that kind of favoritism in her court. Invariably it led to bloodshed. And lately there’d also been a lack of anything human enough to attract her interest. She hadn’t gotten quite that lonely, yet.

She had a stranglehold on his erection, not that he seemed to mind. Pumping him hard, she enjoyed the moans and muttered words of praise he uttered around the fangs planted in her neck. His hips started to jerk erratically and he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers on her sex. With a little cry she came. Spike rolled so he was on top of her, pulling her hand out of his pants and pinning both her wrists beside her head.

There was a second of panic. The Empress submitted to no man! But he sucked harder at the wound in her neck and ground his rigid cock against her already sensitive core. Somehow he’d pushed his pants down and only the velvety fabric of her dress separated them. The worry at being pinned beneath him evaporated. The vampire was thrusting sharply against her and she peaked again, his name a prayer on her lips. He threw his head back and came with a strangled groan, shooting his load over her stomach before collapsing to lie on top of her. When he started to roll off her she held him in place. “Not yet,” she whispered into his ear. “Not yet.”

****

When they’d finally gotten up Buffy had put on one of the Watcher’s white t-shirts and handed her dress to Spike to clean, a task he’d seemed surprisingly cheerful about.

They’d been alone in the apartment, a note on the counter explaining that Giles had gone out for groceries and other supplies. By the time he’d gotten back and the others had started to arrive her dress had been back on and her boots laced up. She’d reclaimed her chair and Spike was once more kneeling at her side. It was almost a pity that she’d find her mate soon, possibly even that night, and that she’d have to give up the vampire’s attentions. The Empress knew she’d be so in love with her destined partner that she wouldn’t miss Spike’s mouth and fingers on her, which seemed sad. Someone should be missing him.

There was Chinese food in colorful cartons for dinner. Spike insisted, with growls and flashes of fang, that he make her a plate first. When she’d found the eggroll especially delicious the vampire had reached over and snagged the one off Giles’ plate for her. The Watcher had paled, but wisely not complained.

The Empress had accepted Oz’s offer of transportation in his van, as one trip in Giles’ elderly car had been enough. Spike had offered to find–which she had taken to mean ‘steal’ from the looks of the others–a more fitting means of conveyance, but she had declined on the basis of time.

However, Buffy did insist they stop at Willy’s bar before they started their mission on the University grounds. It was one of the places Spike had suggested they’d find a concentration of demons. Spike and Willow accompanied her inside, the others electing to remain in the van.

The vampire had entered first and the bartender had started to protest until she’d swept in, her Slayer face to the fore. The human bartender had stammered and stared when his entire cliental had slipped from their chairs, booths, and stools to kneel on the filthy floor. She’d started with him, simply to shut him up, then worked systematically through every male in the room. Willow remained near the door, but Spike faithfully followed along beside her.

The vampire was tense, a muscle in his jaw ticking under the strain. The Empress couldn’t figure out what was making him edgy. These were demons and therefore no danger to her, but every time she searched a male’s being to see if he was hers, Spike would clench his fists as if the creature might attack. The vampire didn’t relax until they’d left the bar.

“No luck with the honey hunt?” Xander asked as the three of them retook their places in the van.

The Empress shook her head. “None was him,” she said sadly.

“Why does it have to be a him?” Willow lifted her eyebrows at Buffy, who furrowed her brow.

“I just know it. Actually, it’s the only thing that I know about my mate.”

Oz let out a huff from the driver’s seat. “Did someone tell you that?”

“Maybe she just decided it because you usually like guys.” Anya said, her lips pursed. “Really, your Grace, you could be missing your mate because you are blinded by gender.”

Buffy let herself consider it. Soft lips to kiss, a mind that thought more like hers, a body she’d instinctively know how to pleasure. In her fantasy she gave the girl long dark hair and a heavy lidded gaze. She smiled, she wouldn’t necessarily have to give up her vampire so quickly either. Her silver eyes turned towards him. Spike was wearing his own speculative look. Surely he’d know how to please two women at the same time. In her mind her fantasy female mate wrapped herself around Spike. With a stifled gasp the Empress immediately halted that train of thought.

She didn’t like sharing, and a creature of her status should not be getting jealous over things that hadn’t happened yet.

Buffy sighed. “No, every seer I questioned always firmly stated it’d be a him. The gender and location was the only thing they all agreed on. I just have to keep looking. He’s out there, somewhere.”

****

Once on the campus of Sunnydale University, Giles and Anya had been told by Buffy to stay with the van. The Empress, Spike, and the rest of the Scoobies had quickly found a group of soldiers to follow. Spike had been leery of the squad. Unlike the last time he’d been this close to the Initiative’s toadies, they were carrying actual firearms. It was clear which side of the ‘dead or alive’ equation the soldiers were on now.

The five had trailed behind the commandos until the men had disappeared inside a nearly empty frat house.

After much muffled arguing The Empress had exerted her dominance. She’d ordered them to split up so they could cover as much ground as possible in the next twenty minutes. Then they were to all meet up again outside the front doors.  The vampire didn’t like being away from Buffy’s side, but he could not disobey her direct order.

After ten minutes of fruitless searching Spike found himself pacing down a narrow corridor on the ground floor of the frat house. The damned hallway went on forever. Hell, the whole bloody night had been going on forever. He was attempting to do his best to find the entrance to the soldier’s hidden base, but his worry over the Empress and her search for her mate was proving distracting.

Christ, that trip to Willy’s had been a joke. Not one of the blokes there had been worth a single hair on her head. There’d even been a sodding chaos demon. Wouldn’t that have been a hoot? He thought he’d rather meet the business end of a stake than have to watch his Empress cavort with the likes of that for centuries.

He sighed. That was a bloody lie. He’d sworn himself to Buffy’s service, he’d never leave her, no matter who she was letting enjoy her goodies.

Spike still thanked his lucky stars that the chaos demon had been as much a strikeout as the rest and all he’d been required to do was hand her Grace a napkin to wipe the slime off her fingers with.

The hallway ended in a room with hideous wood paneling. He searched for any chinks in the wood, any irregularity that might conceal a hidden entry. He went through another doorway and a prickly sensation crawled over his skin. Wonderful, he was in a bloody chapel. It didn’t look well used as there was a layer of undisturbed dust over almost everything. At the far end, above the altar, was a large stained glass window. A light hanging outside shone through the window, casting muted colors over everything. The scene depicted was the ark with the animals marching in two by two, rain clouds hovering in the distance. A pair of doves hovered in midflight over a benevolent-looking Noah.

The thing was tacky.

Spike shook his head and continued hunting for the secret dungeons. He had his back to the door when he heard rushed footsteps and the rattle of guns being unholstered.

“Freeze,” boomed a voice. Spike spun on his heel. There were only two soldiers, but one was holding a barely conscious and bleeding Xander upright, a gun pointing at his head.

That’d piss Buffy off. She might not remember the sod, but he was one of hers.

“Looks like you’ve signed your death warrant there.” He jerked his chin at Harris. 

The larger soldier kept a gun trained on Spike as he ripped his ski-mask off. “Hostile 17,” the soldier snarled.

Spike growled, leaping halfway to the soldier in one smooth motion. “Finn.” His voice was low and dangerous.

Riley straightened up and holstered his guns. “Are you stupid, you fangless wonder? You can’t hurt us.”

Spike’s face tightened, but he didn’t reply. The soldier would find out soon enough how dangerous he was. He circled towards the commando holding Xander. He rushed towards them, pretending he was making a run for it. The smaller soldier dropped Xander and grabbed at Spike. The vampire slammed the man’s head into the wall and the soldier went down like a ton of bricks; unconscious, but not dead.

A bullet tore into the wood of the doorframe and Spike had to dodge to the other side of the room, sinking down behind a pew.

“You shouldn’t be able to do that!” Riley’s voice was high pitched and Spike chuckled to himself. The wanker was scared.

“Sorry, Spartacus. I seemed to have slipped my leash. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

Another bullet splintered the pew over his head. God, he could take a bullet, just not into his grey matter.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, or your little friend here is going to bite it!”

Spike sighed. He grabbed a hymnal and heaved it away from him, Riley spun to look at where the resulting thud of its landing came from.  The vampire slipped towards where Xander was slumped. The boy was awake, but shaky. He’d pulled both pistols from the unconscious commando’s belt and feebly tried to slide them towards Spike. They came to rest in the middle of the aisle.

Riley had whipped back around and it was now or never. Spike hunched low, ran a few steps, and rolled across the aisle. Two bullets smacked into the tile floor right behind him, but he had the guns. Not his usual style, but Darla had made sure he’d a least known the basics. He flipped off the safeties and waited, hunched down behind another pew.

Xander moaned in pain.

Riley was scanning back and forth, hunting for the vampire. There was enough space beneath the hard wooden pew for Spike to shimmy under on his belly to the next row. He did so twice, until he was even with where Riley was standing. Thankfully the soldier did not have an angle for a shot on the kid. Spike sprang to his feet, both gun barrels pointed point blank at Riley’s face, but the soldier was fast for his bulky frame and both his guns were trained on Spike in an instant.

The vampire was at a loss. He probably wouldn’t die from a gunshot wound or two to the head, but his brains would be right scrambled and he’d be no sodding use to anyone for quite a while. Might be worth it though, to take the prick down.
Only he would leave his Empress alone that way and he’d sworn to remain with her always. Not that she wouldn’t be finding her mate soon enough, meaning he’d go back to being chopped liver.

Both men were slowly circling each other.  Riley shifted his weight to his back foot, but Spike anticipated the move and spun with him, keeping his pistols aimed at the commando’s dark eyes. His duster swung out like the wings of a raven from the sudden move.

“How’d you get the chip out?” Riley ground out.

Spike grinned. “Found me a friend. She’s not going to like you.”

“But how? It should have blown what grey matter you have to pulp if it was removed without the right access codes.”
“Well,” Spike arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know about that, mate. Bird that did it snapped her fingers and there it was, sitting pretty in her palm. I’m guessing you lot aren’t used to dealing with a centuries old Demon Empress?”

Riley narrowed his gaze. “Empress?” 

Spike nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Well, I’m sure Kendra can take care of her same as any other demon. This Empress will look lovely sitting on the floor of a holding cell.”

Spike growled, low and menacing. He’d dust long before any of the Initiative’s people laid a single finger on Buffy. 

They’d worked themselves to right before the altar. Spike was trying to figure out a way to use it to his advantage. Riley was eyeing the cross on top. The soldier’s arm tensed and Spike ducked as Riley sent the cross spinning towards him with one hand. It passed harmlessly over his head and clattered loudly as it hit the floor.

The vampire rolled and snapped to his feet in a defensive posture, but the soldier was already there. Their guns remained inches from the nose of the other.  They were right beside the horrible stained glass. Greens, blues, and browns passed over them as they shifted. Their gazes were locked, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Fuck!” Spike yelped, jumping back as the commando dissolved into tiny wet fragments and aerosolized blood that splattered across the window. The soldier hadn’t even had time to scream. The vampire gulped, fear and awe churning in his gut.

The Empress was standing there, silver eyes blazing, one hand held up.

Spike fell to his knees, awe winning out.

She smiled at him. “Let’s go. I have the information.”

At the other end of the room Oz and Willow were helping Xander to stand. As the Empress passed him she briefly stopped and laid her hand on his head. The boy shook his shaggy hair and blinked, but then was able to walk on his own.

Spike hopped to his feet. He dropped the pistols into his pockets and swept out of the chapel behind the others. Not one of them spared so much as a backwards glance at the bloodstain that’d once been commando Riley Finn.

****

The Empress was unimpressed with the Initiative. She stormed through the moonlit trees, a frown on her human face. “These soldiers,” she addressed no one in particular. “Are fools. They hide behind their toys and expect to be safe from me.” Unable to find either the hidden entrance or a computer, Buffy had settled for yanking the data she needed out of the brain of the unconscious soldier in the chapel.

Spike laughed. “I don’t think they’re expecting you at all.”

“Yeah, Buffy.” Xander wiped at the blood that still trickled from his nose. “You’re going to kick their butts.”

She smiled. She really would ‘kick their butts’. When she was done nothing would remain of the soldiers’ underground lair but smoke and ashes.  That only left the other part of her mission. “I think my mate is there as well, held within their walls. They will pay tenfold for any harm that they have visited upon his head.”

Ahead of her the vampire’s back stiffened. The Empress pouted. Spike would have his revenge as well; he did not need to worry.

The witch and werewolf were walking hand in hand.

“How will you find him in the chaos?” Oz asked. “It might be hard to do the flaming eye thing with everything going hectic when we storm the Initiative.”

The Empress bit her lip. He had a point. “I will simply have to trust in fate. I am meant to find him, so I will.”

“That fire eye thing is way scary.”  Xander hugged himself. “I was worried you’d know more about me than I do.”

Buffy shrugged one shoulder. “I see many things when I am testing someone, but I forget it all almost immediately after. It would be a lot to clutter up my brain.”

“And no one likes a cluttered brain,” Willow said. “What did it feel like to you, Spike? Was it the same, all scary insight stuff?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered, his hands tightening into fists.

The Empress frowned. That couldn’t be right. She’d checked every male she’d come across. Only…she’d been upset about Spike being chained and they’d been busy since. She hadn’t. How could she have not done her due diligence?

“Spike,” she called. “I would fulfill my duty.”

“Your duty?” he spat, not stopping and not so much as turning to look at her. “Let’s not waste time, your Grace. We both know how it’d turn out.”

She blinked. He didn’t speak to her like that. Was he upset she had not yet checked him? And wait, he did not speak to her like that! Her Slayer face slipped to the fore.

“Vampire,” she commanded. “On. Your. Knees.”

Spike dropped to both knees instantly. His head was bowed, hands spread wide on his thighs. The Empress strode until she was standing in front of him. She grabbed Spike’s chin in her claws, yanking his face up so his blue eyes met her silver ones. Her red lips drew back in a silent snarl as fire replaced the silver.

Everything that he had been, was, and could be opened up before her.

She’d expected the emptiness she had found again and again, the aching hollow of nothingness.

Only not this time. He had his own fire, and it came roaring to meet hers. A rushing torrent of sound, light, and life filled every vacant place inside her to bursting.

She was complete.

TBC

<First: Prologue>
<Previous: Chapter 2>
<Next: Chapter 4>

 

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/552634.html

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