A/N:Authors note: I really wasn't going to write anymore to this story but everyone cried 'more, more' and I got a bunny so here it is. Not sure if there will be more. You never know when the bunny will strike.
Many wonderful thanks to Tam for her excellent beta'ing!!
Deconstructing Edith
It was months after Angel’s untimely death, and the slowly building friendship was still awkward between Buffy and Spike. It was mostly due to the healthy dose of sexual tension that seemed to build more with time.
He would often catch her giving him shy glances or heated looks when she thought he wasn’t watching. In turn, he knew that she must have caught more than a few of his longing stares, but she never called him on it. She would just look away in embarrassment or make a quick excuse to run elsewhere.
Spike was torn between wanting to throw her down to ravage her and a powerful desire not to screw this up now that he was getting closer to the slayer. He had to remind himself daily of all the reasons why waiting was such a good idea. At the top of the list was that the slayer was still grieving Angel’s passing, even though she seemed to be improving all the time, but Spike knew better. He knew she still blamed herself even though the broody one had been acting like a right git.
Things had progressed at a slow pace. It started with her dropping by once in a while to see if he wanted to patrol with her, which in turn led to late night hot chocolate and long talks. Things with the scoobies had settled down quite a bit, mostly due to his and Xander’s bonding over the Great Poof’s demise.
They still snarked and insulted nothing would ever change that but the insults had dwindled to mild and the snark to occasional. In the beginning Buffy had even scolded Xander more than once for crossing the line into abusive and he had quickly backed off and apologized.
Something about tonight’s energy felt different, though. Something was coming; he could feel it all around him. Sniffing the air cautiously, he caught the faint hint of a familiar smell. It was to more than a few hours old and just weak enough to make placing the scent impossible; but it could be nothing more than a random vampire he had run across in the past.
Spike kept quiet about his concern, not wanting to alarm the slayer or put her on the defensive during their few hours together. Peaceful moments were few and far between on the Hellmouth, there was always baddie’s to battle and apocalypses to avert.
One thing was definitely certain, life with a slayer was never boring, and he found he liked it that way. Always up for a challenge and a good rough and tumble. If only he could sort Buffy’s feelings towards him, his unlife would be damn near perfect.
~~~~~~~~~~
Drusilla wandered the streets. The same streets and paths her ‘Daddy’ had walked. She could still feel his essence tied to the area. Still smell the stench of the soul that haunted him.
The nasty slayer had taken him away from her in the most disrespectful manner. The pixies laughed and laughed about his passing until she could take it no more. Determined to avenge him she returned once again to the sleepy little town that had been the ruin of her whole family. The brunette cursed the Hellmouth for luring her kin with its promise of glorious destruction and mayhem only to lead them to their individual downfalls.
She strolled through the alleys and darkened lots, searching for her nightly meal. The silent cries of pain and the strong scent of blood drew her to the local hospital. She watched as a young man dressed in scrubs exited the building.
Like the creature of the night she was, she struck before he even knew she was there, wrapping her arms around him in a firm hold and tilted his head to the side licking his neck as she purred. “Someone has been a wicked boy. Wicked boys taste so much better than good ones. Good boys taste too icky sweet and everyone knows too many sweets with rot your teeth. Naughty boys taste of all sorts of wonderful spices; their misdeeds flavor the blood in so many delicious ways.”
She bit into his neck drawing the first mouthful in deeply. Ben struggled with everything he had but it was no use, he couldn’t break her hold on him.
Jinx leapt to his feet from his hiding place across the parking lot and yelled out as he ran to stop the vampiress from killing his mistress’s other half. He watched in horror as the dark beauty allowed the drained body to slump to the ground. Her arm swung wide, forcing her nails into the demon’s skin. He clutched at his throat, falling over the figure already lying there, covering the deceased body with his own.
Dru whispered of naughty hell gods and foolish followers as she melted into the darkness, once again wandering in her Daddy’s long faded trails.
~~~~~~~~
Patrol had been a big success. Not only had he gotten to watch the slayer in action, moving like bloody poetry as she fought, but he had gotten to kill a bahk’lugh demon. The nasty buggers had settled in the caretakers’ house at the Sunnydale Cemetery and who would want that job with Sunnyhell’s nightlife?
He might have showed off just a bit for the slayer, dodging and spinning around the hulking beast and tossing out taunts. He had taken a moment to cast a glance at the slayer’s amused expression and the thing had gotten a swipe in with one of his massive grey claws creating three long gashes down his precious duster. Play time was over. He had broken the demons neck with a satisfying crunch and it was over.
The blond vampire stalked through the rows of gravestones to the one the slayer was currently using as her perch. He stopped abruptly as he caught a hint of the same smell from earlier, only it was getting stronger. He whirled around scanning the clearing the source of the familiar scent.
Suddenly a figure weaved and swayed in the moonlight. Spike instinctively moved to block her path to the slayer hoping that decades of devotion would still allow him some sway with her. He knew she would have felt Angels passing but had hoped that the gits’ actions in L.A. and setting her on fire had lessened his hold. It seemed he was wrong. “William, my sweet William. Have you come to welcome mummy?”
“No, Dru. I didn’t even know you were here until just now. What are you here for, princess?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. He tried to move slowly, not wanting to draw her attention to the fact that he was trying to get as close to Buffy as possible. He hoped that if she did try to strike out at the slayer, he would be able to intercept the blow.
It wasn’t that he didn’t think the slayer could hold her own in a fight against the dark vampire, but she was still grieving over the death of her former love at her own hands and the insane woman in front of him would use that to her advantage. He wasn’t about to lose Buffy now that he finally had his crumb, whether spoken or unspoken.
Buffy bristled at the loving terms that the blond vampire was tossing around to his ex. Hello? Standing right here, she thought. It was if all the bonding and connecting of the past several months just flew out the window. It hurt more than she had thought possible. Sure they had grown close over the weeks since accident with Angel, but here was his sire and former lover. He had turned her away once before by choosing Buffy instead, but then the slayer had refused the one thing he had asked for, a crumb. She had tossed his admission of love back in his face and dis-invited him to her home for the first time in years.
So here they were, back at the same crossroads. Who would he choose, her or Drusilla? At one time she would have been confident in her ability to hold a man’s affection, but years of rejection and abandonment had created more than just a little doubt in her mind.
After all, they had been taking things slow for a while now without even a kiss. Sure she had said ‘thank you’ and ‘great job’ to him on a nightly basis but a man…or vampire had needs. Angel had left her when it was clear that said need wouldn’t be able to be met. Would Spike tire of the waiting game? Would he grow bored of her inability to act on her desire and move on with his unlife? She shuddered at the thought of her life without him now, the support and easy camaraderie on her nightly patrols something she now relished. She could kick herself for not making her feelings known before now. Would it kill her to tell him how much she enjoyed his company? To let him know how much she wanted his continued presence in her life? She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late to let him know.
Spike felt the slayer tense behind him but was too busy keeping an eye on his advancing sire to spare a look to determine her mood. He only hoped that this wouldn’t set back the progress they had made so far. Sighing loudly he wondered why his love life could never go smoothly.
He turned his head slightly as Drusilla began to weave and sway to unheard music. “Don’t look her directly in the eye, pet,” he told the slayer softly, and was rewarded with the touch of her hand on his back in silent assurance that she understood.
Drusilla’s eyes narrowed as she watched the body language between the two blonds. “Little girls need to learn their places and to not take toys from others,” she hissed.
Buffy moved to step forward only to be stopped by the gentle pressure that the blond vampire applied to her arm. “No, love. She’s only trying to goad you into a fight.”
“Yeah, well its working,” the slayer pouted.
“Oh, pouty lip! Gonna get it.” The vampire teased making the slayer grin in spite of herself. He moved quickly when he sensed his sire’s lightening fast movements, their private joking having provoked her into a vengeful attack. Spike swung away from Buffy, twisting as he moved in order to catch his sire’s arms behind her back and struggling to hold her away from the slayer, who had produced a stake out of one of her many hiding places. Places he hoped he still had a shot of discovering one day, if the insane woman is his arms hadn’t completely ruined his chances.
The petite blond took a step forward, the stake menacing in her lethal grasp. She stopped when she heard her companions’ barely spoken plea, “Buffy, please.”
Their eyes’ met, silent communication was often quick and meaningful in the middle of a fight and this time was no different. She understood his position of not wanting to be the one to cause his ex-lovers death. She had experience first hand on two separate occasions the powerful guilt and trauma of that particular heartbreak.
Lowering the stake, she backed away from the couple still struggling against each other for dominance. Trusting Spike was one of the hardest and easiest things she had ever done. She trusted him fully to watch her back and protect her and it wasn’t the first time she had let Dru go free and undusty. It was only her intense jealousy that held her rigid and prepared to strike as she witnessed the scene in front of her.
Spike lowered his head to speak softly into his sire’s ear. “Listen carefully, Dru. This is probably your last free pass. The slayers getting right tired of your games and, truth be told, so am I. You saved me, delivered me from an embarrassing and painful existence. It’s something I will forever be grateful to you for, but you chose your path a while back, princess. You chose the great bleeding ponce and then a bloody chaos demon over me, so let’s not forget who did the leaving, alright? I’m where I want to be, love, and I’ll be here until the slayer decides otherwise.”
“She took daddy away, my Spike. How can you stand to touch her, to want her, when she’s done nothing but destroy our happy family?”
“Our family has never been happy, Dru. Sure there were good times, but the whole bleedin’ lot was a bunch of backstabbing hateful buggers who would have sacrificed anyone they could have to save their own worthless hides. The poofter caused his own death by coming here and acting like a right arse. Leave, Dru. Leave, and don’t ever come back. It’s over,” he finished, pushing her away as he released her from his hold.
Drusilla turned one last time with tears in her eyes, begging for the return of her one time champion, only to meet cold blue eyes that held no regard for her other than kinship. She floated gracefully in retreat, turning only after she was several yards away before melting into the darkness. The only sounds in the night was her fading wails as she called out in despair over all that was lost to her.
Spike didn’t move a muscle until he felt a gentle touch on his arm. He turned to the slayer, relieved that there was no anger or contempt in her eyes, only gentle understanding.
“Come on, Spike. How about we go back to my house and have some cocoa and watch a movie. I’ll even let you pick this time,” the slayer teased.
“Right, like that’s such a privilege given my range of selection.” The blond rolled his eyes. Thoughts of ‘A Night At the Roxbury’, ‘Steel Magnolias’ and ‘The Princess Bride’ floating in his head. The only saving grace of the Summers’ video collection was Joyce’s fondness for old movies. He felt a hand grip his tightly and his gaze drifted down to see his hand intertwined with the slayers. It was her first real initiation of intimate contact between them. Spike’s expression was one of complete awe as he allowed her to lead him out of the cemetery and toward her home.
~~~~~~~~~~
“No, no!” she screamed. “Naughty, naughty, Miss Edith, telling lies to princess. You mock me! Mock and mock, spinning tales and dreams. Spinning. Always spinning! It makes a girl dizzy and faint it does, but no ones there to catch her now. All alone, weeping in the darkness. The effulgent prince all wrapped in the light and gold.”
She reached out and grabbed the doll from her seat bringing her close to growl in the dolls ear. “You said he would be mine once again, after the evil sunshine was gone. Did you do it, did you whisper naughty thoughts in his head, plant the seed to grow and grow? To grow so big that it left no room for princess?”
She threw the doll down to the floor as she screeched, “You did! You did tell secrets behind Mummy’s back. I can see the truth; it sparkles in your eyes just like the sunshine. You burn me, scorching Mummy with the fire and flames. Wicked, wicked girl, you shall have to be punished. You shall mock me no more,” she screamed as she lunged, snatching the doll from the floor.
She slammed the doll against the mantle of the fireplace with full force, smashing the doll into pieces and breaking a section of the wooden shelf. The now empty dress fell to the floor in a heap as the head rolled across the floor until it came to a stop resting against the far wall; its eyes turned facing the weeping vampiress.
Drusilla fell in front of the hearth, sobbing into her folded arms. Miss Edith’s eyes glimmered for just a moment before a faint creaking sound was heard. The insane vamp raised her eyes in time to watch the heavy mantle finally crack, splitting in the middle as it broke. The jagged wood echoed loudly through the halls as it pierced her chest clean through and struck the brick base of the fireplace.
She only had time to look at the severed head of her once favored doll and whisper, “Naughty…naughty…Miss Edith,” as she crumbled to dust.
~~~~~~~~~~
The blond vampire dropped to his knees, the bond he shared with his sire now erased. The loss was overwhelming, even after sending her on her way earlier that night. He had only wanted a chance to explore his budding relationship with Buffy, not send his creator to a dusty ending.
He couldn’t stop his fleeting thought that maybe she was better off. Free of the madness and voices that constantly assaulted her fragile mind. He looked up as he felt the warm arms wrapped around his shoulders. The slayers concerned gaze was enough to make him shake off his morose thoughts enough to reassure her that he was all right physically.
“It’s Dru,” he started, feeling the need to expand on his announcement when her face darkened in jealous anger. “She’s gone, dust.”
“Oh,” was the only reply she could think of in her shock. Some part of her was still jealous of the bond that the two vampires had shared for more than a century. One that could be reached even after separation and death. The more sensible part wanted nothing more than to help sooth his grief. “Do you want to come back to the house to talk about it, or just not talk? I just don’t want you to be alone right now, unless you’d rather be alone, that is.”
“No, love. I don’t think I want to be alone right now, if you don’t mind?” he was still so unsure of his position even after tonight. Even the jealousy and anger at Dru’s attempted return couldn’t shake the unworthy feeling from inside.
Spike was grateful for the arm that slipped around his waist and helped him to stand, not needing it so much for the strength, but for the comfort it brought him. He smiled gratefully at her as they began to walk down the street once again.
She paused for a moment and he froze, worried that she had changed her mind about the invitation. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when she leaned in to kiss his cheek quickly before resuming their slow pace.
The awkwardness of earlier had been replaced with concern and hope with that simple gesture, both things he hadn’t felt directed toward himself in quite a while.
Maybe this taking things slow business wasn’t so bad after all.
|
