SUMMARY: A short interlude in the past of Spike and Dru.
CONTENT: Spike/Dru romance-angst
RATING: PG-13 just to be safe
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns Spike. So bring him back, Joss! U2 owns themselves. And
my sanity. :)
Big ole thanks to Rebecca for Beta-ing.
*I wanted to run but she made me crawl
Eternal fire she turned me to straw
You know I got black eyes but they burn
So brightly for her
Ours is a blind kind of love*
-U2
*Dublin 1992*
Nothing easy is ever worth it.
The best moments are the ones that are fought for. Everything is made more precious by blood, more meaningful by anger, more significant by rage. No one wants what they can easily get; it's in claiming the hardest prize we take the most joy.
Females line the walls of the main room. Each one beautiful, seductive. Chosen for these reasons. They eye me slowly and deliberately, making quite clear their intentions. After all, what female wouldn't want the chance to be with *Spike*, if only just once?
But they're undisguised wanting affects me only as much as a sunshower affects the ocean. I toss lewd grins at them, winking, leaving it at that. Voicelessly saying 'sorry...nice offer, but I've got better.'
I head out of the main room, through the black velvet curtains to a hallway that is off-limits to everyone but Dru and I. We had fed together earlier, but she stayed in while I attended to some...business. The bass from one of the the nearby Temple Bar nightclubs comes through the walls, giving the townhouse a pulse. I grin. Funny that the house should have one when none of its occupants do.
Soft humming comes through the far door, candlelight flickering through the open crack. I can smell the incense. If I close my eyes...drifting back over the years, I am now a boy in church, frightened by the words of the priest.
But there is no talk now of hellfire and sin. Her voice, soft and caressing as the wind, shatters the flashback.
"Come, Spike...have a look at what I found."
I push the door open and lean against the frame, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Just what did you find, luv?" I ask, drinking in the sight of her.
She looks at me over the large, single candle that is lighting the room, her curls falling to frame her face. She smiles, her little fangs perfectly white.
"I found it in the garden," she purrs. "It was growing there...but now it's not."
From her pocket she pulls out something green. I quickly hope it's not a frog. She crosses slowly to me, pressing her cheek against my chest. She draws one of my hands from my pocket and presses it into my palm. I cock one eyebrow at her.
"What did you find?" I ask, not looking into my hand.
She nuzzles her face against mine, grazing my lips when she speaks. "A four-leaf clover."
I give her a quick kiss, then look into my palm. It's nothing more than a weed. "It's a beautiful four-leaf clover, pet," I lie with only the slightest twinge of guilt. The truth won't make her happy.
I'm right, because she giggles with happiness and spins around, her skirts flying about her. When she slows, I say, "You know what this means, don't you?"
She curls her hair around her finger and looks at me impishly. "Whaaaaaat," she sing-songs.
"You're gonna get lucky." I lunge at her swiftly, lifting her in my arms, and twirl her. She laughs and throws her head back. Together, we hit the bed, her soft body pressing into mine. I kiss her, nibbling on her lower lip, tasting the small bit of blood that is drawn.
Her tongue darts across my lips, probing to get into me further; a move that is utterly useless. She is in me as much as possible. She is in my every thought.
However, in this moment, all thoughts in my head have left, leaving me to surrender to this bliss. I kiss her neck and tell her that I love her, her soft purr the only answer that I need.
I awake with a start, the noise coming from the left side of the room being the only plausible culprit. In the dark, I can see her sitting on the floor, pushing stuff around.
"Dru, come back to bed," I mumble, too tired to get up. I can see a tiny sliver of sunlight coming through the heavy drapes. Not enough to do any harm, but more than enough to be annoying.
There's no response. The noise continues, though I can't make out what she's doing. "Druuuuuuuuuuu," I nag.
Still no response. With a sigh, I get up and sit next to her.
"What are you doing, luv?"
She sniffles. "I can't find Ms. Edith."
I roll my eyes, glad that she can't see that. "Come back to bed. We can look for her at night."
"No!" she screeches, tearing her arm from my grasp. "I have to find her now. I heard her call out to me. She's been stolen away from me, I know it..."
I hug her. There's nothing I can say. Sheer craziness is not something you can just study for.
"I'm sure that Ms. Edith is here, somewehere. No one has kidnapped her."
She says nothing, but the tension in her body is slowly ebbing. "Are you sure, Spike?"
"Would I lie to my princess?" There's a small part of me that is protesting this as fiercely as the rest of me is telling it to shut the hell up. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. And I don't ever want her to hurt.
She wipes the last of the tears from her cheek. "No, Spike, you wouldn't." Her arms wrap tightly around my body; we sit there on the floor, and I gently rock her back and forth. When I am sure that she's asleep, I carry her to the bed.
Her hair is spread on the pillow, her face serene with sleep, and I can feel an ache somewhere inside. The same tiny part of me that demands honesty also wants to know why it always has to be so bloody hard. ''Why can't she be normal?' it asks, to which the rest of me replies, 'Because then she wouldn't be Dru.'
She's gotten worse over the years. She's still as viscious and predatory as ever, but her doll collection has expanded. She spends more time talking to them than to everyone else. It's not big things; it's just the little ones that add up. Sometimes, I wonder if she would do the same thing for me. If she would sacrifice all that I have sacrificed for her.
And it's that same small part of me that says: 'No. She wouldn't.'
It's also the part of me that I ignore the most. Dru is the one thing in my life that I am proud of. For all the misery, the happiness more than makes up for it. Holding her and knowing that she is mine...it's one of the best feelings in the world.
Hot blood pouring down my throat. Becoming the leader of many strong vampires. Killing a Slayer. Those all feel good, evoking a pride in myself that is such a high I fear I may never come down. To wield such power with such little effort is a feeling that I savor. It is delicious and intoxicating; it is sweet beyond belief.
But to lose myself in her, physically and emotionally...to give in to her, bow to her will and love the pain that wracks me when I wrap myself around her finger...
That is the sweetest thing.
-end-
Author's Note: Just short fluff. Hope ya liked. Go out and buy the U2 greatest hits album. Buy it. You must buy it. I command you. Look into my eyes < eg > You are feeling very sleepy, very...needy...of a greatest hits album...go out...experience the thrill of purchase...
I will shut up now. Bye :)
Marriage proposals...or feedback on the story can be sent HERE.
A way out can be found HERE