When Angel and Spike ended their kiss, both vampires were panting for unneeded air.
Druscilla was staring at them, a half smile on her lips. ::Just like the old days,:: she whispered.
**Not quite**, Angel thought. He wondered if that was truly regret he felt
for a fleeting instant, or just the shadowy
memory of it. He pushed it aside.
::Dru,:: Angel whispered, ::tell me about the stone..the Demon. Why did you send it?::
Spike walked over to his love, and wrapped himself about her waist in an
old reflex of protection. Another jerk at the tall
vampires heart. (That Spike had done it? Or that he thought he had
to?)
Druscialls voice still held the sing song quality of a small child. ::I
sent it to free you, Angel. To bring you into the light,
the way it brought me. It saved me, I wanted to save you...::
<<All right, so Princess is still half a bubble off plumb. Maybe
she was a bit dozey before you even turned her, eh?>>
Angel supressed a smirk as Spikes thoughts drifted to him.
::I hear you too, you know, Spike! And Im not crazy! Anymore.::
::Sorry, pet. Tell us then. About the stone. Wed very much like to hear it.::
Dru cleared her throat with an air of self-importance. Then she gestured
for Angel to take a seat beside her. ::Lets go
someplace more comfortable then.::
And grabbing both male vampires hands in her own, she closed her eyes.
Angel and Spike exchanged the knowing
glances of parents who are aware their child is seeing way too much
of an imaginary friend, but nonetheless agree to
set an extra place for them at the table....
When suddenly..they were no longer in the white hallway. There had been
no sense of movement, no feeling of lost
time. One moment they were sitting together in Angelbrainland, as
Spike had so aptly named it, and the next they
were simply.. not.
::Holy soddin fuck.:: muttered the smaller man. Angel couldnt have said it better or more succinctly himself.
The two men looked around, mouths agape, while Druscilla preened. ::You like?::
Angel shut his mouth and swallowed. ::Uh...Dru...how..where..why..?:: He
shut his mouth again, aware that not a single
coherent thing was going to come out of it anytime soon. When he
turned finally to look at his Childe, he saw her waist
length, inky black locks had returned. Her garb was eighteenth century,
full with crinolins and lace, a ruffle of velvet at
her sleeve, her bodice cut low to reveal the pale twin globes of
her breasts. The dress was a deep, wintery green; it
had been Angelus favorite.
Spike stared at them both, for the first time in perhaps...ever...completely
unable to make words form. Angel was clad
in velvet and brocade finery as well, his hair now back in a shiny
ribbon, the old Katana dagger at his side.
And Spike.....William....looked never more the English gentleman in his dark breeches and loose fitting white shirt.
The only trace of their prior excursion was the stubborn stripes remaining on the mens cheeks. Warrior paint.
The three vampires stood now on a black and white checkered marble floor,
in the center of a grand foyer. Above them
was the domed ceiling Angel recognized from the spectre of dreams.
And beside them the majestic
mahogany staircase, complete with a dozen lit candelabras guiding
the way up gilded walls. It was the entrance to
what had been, once, their home. A stately mansion overlooking the
sea, built upon the sheer cliffs in Scotland.
It looked exactly as it had over one hundred and fifty years ago.
Of course, it had been destroyed not long after Angelus was cursed....
But it was utterly inconsequential that this could not possibly be real.
The perfection in detail was stunning. Every
peculiarity, every unremembered fragment of this place was *alive*
with color and sound. A victrola hissed out some
ancient classical piece in the next room, and Angel knew without a
doubt, that if he walked into the study, he would find
his cherished box of costly cigars and a crystal decanter full of
brandy on his cherry wood desk. The garden would be
in full bloom with night lilies and hyacinth, tended to by Wills
careful hand, since Angelus had no patience for such
things, and everything Dru planted turned to brown dust. The Dining
hall table would be laid full with food noone would
eat, and wine noone would drink. The clawfoot tub in the Master bath
would be filled with hot water and sweet
smelling bubbles. And the Persian rug in the Master suite would no
doubt still wear the bloodstains even its dizzying
multi-hued pattern failed to hide.
It was as if the house had been lost in time, patiently waiting for its
Masters and Mistress to return to it, to once again
animate it, ......to give it....
<<Essence>> Spike shot, and Angel caught it with a slight nod of
his head. **But whose?** he mused. He turned to
Dru, who continued to merely smile up at him, seeking favor in his
dark eyes. The dejavu threatened again. It was
making his stomach hurt. Too much, finally; and Angel sank down onto
the wide bottom step of the winding staircase,
and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.
::You all right, mate?:: Spike asked quickly, concern evident in his tone.
This was just what he needed. For Drus creepy
flashback to force Angel one sandwhich short of a picnic after all.
::Yea, yea. Im just ducky, Will.:: Angel muttered.
<<ducky?!>>
::Care to tell us the story of the stone now that were all someplace....more comfortable?:: Angel pressed.
Dru pouted a bit. ::You dont like it, do you, Angel? What about you Spike?::
The men exchanged another conspiratorial
glance. The only way Druscilla was going to explain anything was
if she was placated. ::Its lovely::, they said in unison.
Her bottom lip quivered.
Spike crossed the floor and grabbed her up, raining kisses on her eyelids
and cheeks. He buried his face into her
neck, and growled softly, inhaling the scent of her. The smell of
Jasmine and blood. The smell of him, and of Angel. All
of it, there, just under the delicate skin.. Time would never change
that. She would carry the fragrance of them, and this
place, forever.
His eyes were shining as he reluctantly pulled back. ::The demon, pet. Tell us.::
::Oh, all right. But its a long story. Lets get cozy.:: She demanded. Angel
sighed, but indulgently led the others to the
main drawing room, where he correctly surmised a fire would be blazing
in the large hearth. Kicking off their shoes, the
vampires settled in on the jacquard floor pillows in front of the
roaring flames. Then, the men listened attentively, as
Druscilla at last began her tale.....
End Part 14a