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Immortality's Bitch

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He’s shot the Billy Idol lookalike five times, and he’s down and bleeding but he’s not dying. “What are you?” Jack growls, gripping the bleached hair.

“Vampire, mate. And you?”

Because Jack’s gone down too, and has got back up again. He grins. “I’m just immortal, mate. Not a monster.”

Blond guy looks interested. “You can’t die?” he asks, head on one side. “Really?”

“Haven’t found anything that’ll stop me coming back yet,” Jack acknowledges cheerfully.

“Vampire bite might do it. Mystical death an’ all.”

The world flips and Jack’s on his back, fangs leering down at him.

“Wanna try?”

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Jack hangs in his chains, and wonders how he’s going to get out of this one.

He’d been tempted by the offer of a ‘final’ death, but not enough to acquiesce. No matter – Spike was stronger and Jack didn’t get a choice. He’d struggled, afraid, when fangs plunged towards his neck; he’d screamed as they sank in. Then pain overtook fear, and death had been a relief.

At least he’d woken, but to existence as a blood-bank for a vampire, chained in a basement and drained at least once a day.

Jack just hopes his team will find him soon…

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The worst thing is that Spike won't stop talking. Every dawn he waltzes into the basement and regales Jack with the story of his night. The conquests he's made, the fights he's got into, the people he's killed. And lots of moaning about someone called Dru.

It makes Jack wish violently that his chains were long enough for his hands to cover his ears. As it is, he has no choice but to listen.

Mind you, Spike's chatter does help him learn his captor's weaknesses – ADHD, not all that bright, obsessive. And highly sexed. And accordingly, he makes a plan.

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"You smell lovely," Spike murmurs, his nose buried in the crook of Jack's shoulder. "Such a smell of life about you. And your blood…"

He's even more horny tonight. If he's telling the truth, he hasn't fucked anyone for over a week. It's time.

"No sex again?" Jack asks, mock sympathetic. "I'd offer but-" He rattles his chains.

Spike's head goes up, blue eyes bright with interest.

"Not offering you my ass," Jack warns, and grins seductively. "But if you'll let me down, I'll show you exactly what I can do with my mouth."

He's out of there two minutes later.

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"So you're doing Buffy now?" Jack asks, staring down at Spike with a gaze that seems to go straight through him. "Have to say, didn't see that one coming. I mean – yeah, obsessed, but… Wow." He shakes his head.

He's fucking Spike with such force that the top of Spike's head keeps banging against the headboard. It's like being fucked by Angelus on a bad day. Spike reaches up and grips the top of the wood with his hands to give himself some leverage, but it doesn't help much.

"Not doing her any more," he says gruffly. He's not sure why he feels the need to clarify this, but he does. "Was doing her, I said. Things went a bit too far… I scared her off… scared myself off. Went off to Africa and got myself a soul. Now we're just – "

He breaks off, because Jack has gone perfectly still, staring down at him in a completely different way: as if not seeing him any more, instead of seeing through him. "What?" he asks, a trifle belligerent.

"You have a soul?"

"Yeah. Regular good guy now. Just like you. So what?"

Jack grins, a supercharged, room-brightening grin. "Well, that does change things a little," he drawls, as he starts to move again, more slowly and a lot less violently this time. "Means I can enjoy this a bit more, for a start."

Spike gives him a limpid look. "You weren't enjoying it? Bloody well felt like you were enjoying it!"

Jack's lips twist, and his blue eyes twinkle down at Spike. "Let me put it this way. This is revenge for keeping me chained up and killing me day after day whilst looking fucking sexy and getting fucking intimate and not doing anything about it." Spike grins slowly, because he'd known that little seduction of Jack's hadn't been entirely an act. His grin fades quickly, though, when Jack continues, "I was going to follow up with revenge for all those people you were killing while I was there."

Spike swallows, and doesn't ask.

Jack tells him anyway, with a humorously-quirked eyebrow and a fucking scary look in his eyes. "But if you've really changed – well, I'll leave it at just one staking."