Spike felt Angel’s hand flatten between his shoulder blades before he was shoved into the center of the room.  He stumbled but held his ground, all the while cursing and threatening to rip off his grandsire’s arm and, “Shove it up his arse!” if he dared touched him again.
 
Yeah, Spike knew this was an empty threat, especially with his arms bound behind his back.  Yet he wasn’t going to let the big oaf push him around without having a say about it.  Well, that was the plan until the bastard pulled out the “Sire” card.
 
“Kneel.” Angel’s gruff command sounded from over Spike’s left shoulder, and without protest, he dropped to his knees.
 
Spike really despised having to listen to this wanker.  But he knew by his grandsire’s tone, he clearly wasn’t in any mood to deal with a mouthy childe.
 
Regardless of how much Spike loathed Angel and how vampires in general naturally defied all the rules, both human and demon, there was an ancient hierarchy that even a master vampire such as himself could not escape. You heeded your sire’s command—pure and simple.  Even though technically Drusilla was his sire, Angel was hers, so as far as blood lines went, this made Angel his as well.  
 
Ain’t families grand?
 
While Spike stayed still obediently, he heard his grandsire moving several feet away then returning and noisily situating a wooden chair behind him.
 
Without a word passing between them, Spike’s arms were released, and he was forced into the high-backed chair; his wrists were secured to the wooden arms, and his feet were bound together.  Spike hadn’t a clue how Angel came up with another length of rope, but he wasn’t about to ask.
 
“Stay.”  Just as the first, he obeyed Angel’s second command.  Angel then left the room and returned ten or so minutes later with a steaming mug of blood and worn leather-bound book.
 
Spike watched as his grandsire wearily sank into the soft cushion of an adjacent couch, opened his book, and started slowly sipping from his mug.  The nonchalant way in which Angel behaved belied the fact Spike was bound to a chair a mere twenty feet away.
 
Several pages and sips later, Angel looked up and met Spike’s gaze.  He instantly noticed confliction weighing on Peaches’ Neanderthal-like features.  Spike wagered his grandsire’s shiny soul was laying on the guilties for tying him up.
 
Guess that soul is good for somethin’.
 
“Hungry?” Angel placed his book and mug off to the side and stood from the couch.
 
“A bit peckish, yeah.  But you’re not planning on feeding me that swill are you?”  Spike eyed the mug on the floor, his nose scrunching in disgust.
 
“Well, this swill is your only option, until we figure out what’s going on with Buffy.  So take it or leave it.  I don’t really care either way.”
 
“Ah, the Slayer.  I wager she’s the reason why I’m partaking in these lovely accommodations.   Might I add, I particularly enjoyed riding in the boot of the Watcher’s car.”  Spike’s words dripped with an all-time high note of sarcasm.
 
“Well, you could’ve ridden in the ashtray,” Angel scoffed, his arms crossing his chest.
 
“Yeah, good point.  So am I goin’ to be subjected to your shoddy attempt at Kinbaku until the Watcher’s enormous frontal lobe figures out what’s going on with your honey, Slutty the Vampire Layer?”  Spike’s smug smile grew, watching Angel’s eyes flash gold.
 
“Watch it, boy.  Just ‘cause Rupert thinks your valuable, doesn’t mean I do.  You’d best remember that.”  Angel stepped forward menacingly, his hands curling into tight fists.
 
“And I might be the only thing that can help her.  You’d best remember that.”  Spike’s tone was equally firm, in spite of his vulnerable position.
 
Their gazes remained locked in a silent battle until Angel sighed in resignation and his hands loosened by his side.
 
“Look, I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be, so let’s make the best of it.”
 
Spike studied him for a few moments before nodding in acceptance.
 
“Fine, I’ll play nice.”  Spike scanned the room, “So what are we going to do to pass the time?  Since you’ve obviously haven’t joined this century and gotten a telly, do we start off with glaring at one another, or am I just watching you brood?”
 
“I do not brood.  I silently contemplate.  Anyway, I was thinking that we should do a little research of our own— try to figure out what’s going on.”  Angel started pacing the small stretch of area in front of Spike, his gaze unfocused, as he appeared to be mulling over the issue at hand.
 
“Yeah, yeah—you say tomato. . .  Well, if we’re going to be all Holmes and Watson, let’s review what we have, shall we?”  Spike’s lips pursed as he pretended to contemplate.  “Well, we pretty much got nil besides of the three of us, I was the only one who seemed to enjoy the vamp beat down at the Magic Box.  Oh, and let’s not forget while you were lying down on your arse, the Slayer and I brilliantly chased away the rest of those wankers with flasks of holy water.”
 
“When we were at the Magic Box, did you notice anything different from when you were there earlier?” Angel stopped pacing and turned toward Spike, his eyes narrowing, as if he was trying to search his face for the answers.
 
“Don’t rightly know.  I was too busy trying to find a spell to improve your looks.  Plus, it was the middle of the day, so I stayed to the back.  Not sure what the witch was doing beforehand.”
 
“Oh, so you don’t know what she was doing before you ate her?”  Angel scoffed in obvious disdain.
 
“Yeah, that’s right.  I drained the chit.  We’re vampires remember?  That’s what we do!  Or at least that’s what I do.  You only feed on steamy cups of rancid Wilbur.  Hey, at least that’s a step up from the rat filth you were smearing all over your face not too long ago.”  Spike’s classic smirk returned in full force.
 
“Last warning, boy.  I might not be able to dust you, but that won’t stop me from gagging you.”  Angel stepped forward, his anger from earlier returning tenfold.
 
“Pffft!  Go on—do your worst!  It’s not like we haven’t played this little game before, Angelus.  Just make sure this time you don’t use that piss-poor excuse of what you got dangling between your legs—that thing you dare to call a co—humph!”
 
Angel shoved a balled-up piece of fabric into Spike’s mouth, instantly silencing him.  While Spike eyed him with pure malice, Angel sighed, “Ah, silence.” before heading back over to the couch, sitting down, and resuming reading and drinking his blood.
 
Spike seethed, all the while murmuring colorful curses around the cloth in hopes Angel would again get brassed-off enough to pull the gag, so they could finish what they started.  Better yet, he’d untie him, so they could fight for real.
 
Now, he wasn’t picking a fight ‘cause his masochistic side decided to have a go.  Even though tormenting and taunting his grandsire was brilliant fun, the main reason behind all of this was simply for a distraction.
 
With the distraction now gone, as he’d feared, thoughts of the Slayer rushed into his mind like a tide, filling every crevice until he was drowning.
 
Every part of him screamed and demanded every part of her, allowing him to grasp and stroke every inch of her nubile skin, while his cock was buried deep in her heat and her blood flowing past his fangs, coating his tongue and throat, filling his gut.
    
It was maddening for him to admit.  This went far beyond a vampire craving a death, even one as sweet as the Slayer’s.  This went deeper than lust or blood, deeper than a bond between sire and childe: this was all consuming.
 
Spike hoped the Watcher and the Slayer’s groupies  figured out soon what was going on, because he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep away—Angel, the Scoobies, and his own self be damned.     
 
 
 
 
 
   
 

Author’s Notes:

Please take a moment to let me know whatcha thought, thanks!
 
Boot = trunk
 
“Holmes and Watson” refers to Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherlock_Holmes

Wilbur is the pig from “Charlotte’s Web”
 
“Kinbaku means 'tight binding'…is a Japanese style of bondage or BDSM which involves tying up the bottom using simple yet visually intricate patterns, usually with several pieces of thin rope (often jute and generally around 6 mm in diameter, but sometimes as small as 4mm, and between 7m-8m long).”  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shibari