Rating: R? well it will be eventually.
Spoilers: BTVS season 4 and Steven Sondhiem play Into the Woods.
Summary: I was told to write a fic involving the gang and the Steven Sondhiem play Into the Woods. So here you go.
Author’s note: It’s all lies, I own everything…the rest of the world just doesn’t know it yet…okay well I don’t, but I can dream.
I know, I know…it’s been ages since I update. I beg your forgiveness. Feel free to spank me. No, no, please do ;-) I want to thank everyone for the lovely feedback. Thanks for taking the time. And to everyone who sent an e-mail asking after me, well you hold a special place in my heart now.
I had thought of giving up writing this because of some reviews I’d gotten. I just had too much going on in my life to deal with that kind of drama. But then I remembered this is my damn fic and I’ll do what ever I please with it *insert evil grin here*. This Bloodshedbaby wanted me to keep writing this for her, so that’s what I’m doing. I dedicate this update to all my sisters over at House of Bloodshed.
As I’ve done with every update, here is the cast of characters. Oh and to clear up some misunderstandings 1. Anya is not in the play. As stated earlier in the fic she did not go with them to the theater. 2. Tara is not in the fic at all. It’s not that I don’t love her to bits; I just didn’t write her in.
The Wolf: Spike
Cinderella: Buffy
Cinderella’s Prince: Angel
Baker: Xander
Baker’s Wife: Cordy
Witch: Willow
Narrator: Giles
Rupunzel’s Prince: Reily
Feedback sends me to the happy place
Chapter 8
Cinderella clung to The Wolf as he ran through the dark woods, dodging around trees and jumping over fallen logs. He ran too close to an outstretched limb and as they passed the limb grazed Cinderella’s arm. He stopped running when he heard her sharp yelp of pain.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My arm,” she said looking down at the small wound. “A branch cut me, I think.”
“Let me see,” he said as he set her down on her feet.
The cut, perhaps two inches long, ran along her arm. The dress she wore was indeed beautiful, but having no sleeves her arms had been left unprotected. The Wolf made a low rumble of anger at both the impracticality of the dress and also at himself for allowing her to be hurt.
He raised her arm up to his face and inhaled the rich scent of her blood. Images in his mind flashed too quickly for him to really perceive or understand them. He shook his head to dispel them and lowered his mouth to the wound. Cinderella jerked her arm away and stared at The Wolf.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I need to clean the wound or it will get infected. Do you want that to happen?” he growled.
“No, but-“
“Then quit arguing for one bloody minute and come here. Not everything is as it seems, you know.”
“I know, it’s just-“
The Wolf growled in frustration and threw his arms up in the air.
“I’m just trying to help you!”
“Well maybe I don’t need your kind of help,” she said defensively.
The Wolf turned sharply to look at her. She took a step back from him at the look she saw on his face. It was a mixture of anger, confusion, but most of all, hurt.
“My kind of help?” he asked quietly. “My kind of help? That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago, princess.” He spat out the last word as if it were something vile on his tongue.
“Yes I know, but-“
“Maybe I should have just left you there. Why were you running away at all? It’s what you always wanted isn’t it?” The Wolf snarled. “You wanted the light and the ball. Couldn’t stand to be in the dark with me, had to have your prince-“
“It’s not what I wanted!” she yelled.
The Wolf looked at her stunned at her sudden out burst.
“What?” he asked.
“Wanting a ball is not wanting a prince,” she said.
“But you said-“
“I know what I said.”
“What happened back there?” he asked taking a few steps closer to her.
“He’s a very nice Prince. He’s a prince who prepares. Knowing this time I’d run from him, he spread pitch on the stairs.”
“Pitch?” The Wolf laughed.
“I was caught unawares,” she explained. “And I thought, ‘Well he cares. This is more than just malice. Better stop and take stock while you’re standing here stuck on the steps of the palace.’”
Cinderella slapped The Wolf lightly on the arm when he began to laugh.
“You think, ‘What do you want?’ You think, ‘Make a decision.’ Why not stay and be caught? You think, ‘Well, it’s a thought.’ What would be his response? But then what if he knew who you were when you know that you’re not what he thinks he wants?”
The Wolf tried to follow her train of thought because she looked so upset now. He couldn’t imagine anyone not being able to see who she truly was. All one had to do was look into her eyes to her soul.
“And then what if you are what a prince would envision?” she continued. "Although how can you know who you are till you know what you want, which you don’t.” Tears began to falls softly from her eyes.
The Wolf reached out to her but she turned away before he could reach her. She motioned to the woods around her.
“So then which do you pick: When you’re safe, out of sight, but where everything’s wrong? Or: Where everything’s right,” she gestured towards the direction of the castle, “but you know that you’ll never belong.” The last words came out as little more than a whisper. “And whichever you pick, do it quick, ‘cause you’re starting to stick to the steps of the palace.” She tried to joke, but failed when she was force to swallow a sob.
The Wolf wanted nothing more than to go to her, but he knew this was something she needed to get out on her own. She continued on, her back still to him.
“It’s your first big decision, the choice isn’t easy to make. To arrive at a ball is exciting and all, once you’re there though it’s scary. And it’s fun to deceive when you know you can leave, but you better be wary. There’s a lot that’s at stake, but you’ve stalled long enough ‘cause you’re still standing stuck in the stuff on the steps...” It was obvious that it was becoming harder for her to speak through her tears. The Wolf made his way slowly to where Cinderella stood. “Better run along home and avoid the collision. Even though they don’t care-“
Cinderella finally broke under the weight of her tears and would have fallen to the ground had it not been for The Wolf. He wrapped his strong arms around her and guided them both carefully to the ground. He held her against him, rocking her slowly as she cried. He lulled her with soft, nonsense words and the gentle rhythm of his hand stroking her back. Cinderella’s tears began to slow and then finally stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what, pet?”
“For yelling at you, not trusting you.”
“Hush now, it’s alright. Big Bad remember? Wouldn’t think as highly of you if you went off trusting every evil thing that comes along.”
“You’re not evil.”
He turned her around so that he could see her face.
“Take that back. I’m right evil, I am.”
She smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
“Of course you are,” she mocked. The Wolf scowled as she smiled. “Help me up?”
“Should leave you sitting on the ground,” he grumbled as he helped her stand.
She began to brush the dirt and leaves off of her dress but the movement aggravated her wound and she winced.
“See that? Gone and hurt yourself more. Give us your arm then,” he said, taking hold of her.
She didn’t fight him this time, merely allowed him to raise the wound to his mouth.
“Gone and clotted already,” he scowled, “I’ll need to open it back up so it can be cleaned.”
Before she could ask what he meant The Wolf ran his tongue along the wound. The feeling sent a shiver through her body The Wolf couldn’t help but notice.
“Not gonna bite you, love,” he said without looking up.
He latched his mouth around the wound and began to suck at the wound. The fresh clot broke free and he began to lick the wound in slow, long swaths. Cinderella gasped at the sensation of The Wolf’s mouth against her skin, the soft feel of his tongue.
The moment the rich blood touched his tongue, The Wolf was once again assailed with images he couldn’t understand. Images of people he didn’t know; images of the baker and his wife only they were different. The old witch that roamed the woods…young and beautiful though strangely shy. He saw himself fighting with the princes, though they too were different. The prince that had been following Cinderella seemed to be a wolf like himself. Cinderella…he saw her. Full of fire and grace. He saw himself fighting alongside her, as well as against her. He watched as she drove stakes into the hearts of other wolves.
“You could,” she whispered.
The Wolf drew away from her arm and looked into her eyes. The vision of her kept changing from the girl standing in front of him to the one he saw fighting in his mind.
“What?” he asked.
“Bite me,” she whispered. She reached her free hand out and her fingers lightly along his sharp cheek bones and they raised ridges of his forehead.
Before he could realize what he was doing he had her body pressed flush against his. He’d fisted his hand in her hand and pulled her head to the side so that her neck was fully exposed. He licked a long wet line up her delicate throat and she shivered against him, pressing her body closer to his. The heady mixture of her arousal mixed with the scent of her blood was an intoxicating mixture. He trailed his sharp canines along her pale throat.
“Buffy,” he whispered.
“Stop!!” a voice cried out from the distance.
Cinderella turned sharply to see who had called and in the process grazed her neck against The Wolf’s fangs.
The Wolf licked the blood and then all the images in his mind finally clicked into place.
“Buffy?” Spike whispered.
TBC