~Then~
The smell of blood was strong on the night breeze. Spike drew his head away from the pale, pulse-less throat of the slight woman dangling from his arms. His blood stained lips curved up into a chilling smile, the hunger strong within him.
The woman, far more pleasant to taste than she had been to look at, dropped to Spike's booted feet. When she had first seen the dead littering the streets, the chit had screamed long and loud. Now, she had joined them, her cries silenced.
Spike's head tilted. The screams had been loud and ceaseless only hours before. Now they could barely be heard over the rustling of the wind. The desperate cries and pleas were lessened in number as the villagers fell before the horde of festive vampires.
Without bothering to cast a last glance at the bloodless bodies littering the ground around him, Spike strode forward in search of further amusement. His yellow demon's eyes flashed in the light of the burning buildings as he casually moved through what had once been a small, prosperous village.
More than that, the town laid to ruins around him had been the home of a particularly annoying Slayer. Angelus had drained her the night before, while her stake had been held in his strong hand, only inches away from his heart. Before her rage filled assault on them, that Slayer had been a particular nuisance to the vampire population. With her dead, Angelus had proclaimed that it was only right that they make up for lost opportunity.
They had done so with a vengeance.
It had been one hell of a meal, Spike admitted, licking the blood from his upper lip. And yet, a distant part of him protested the night's events as far too excessive. Not that he had argued, disagreeing with Angelus and Darla led the way towards dust.
His steps came to a stop as Spike's eyes lighted on the bent figure of an elderly man. Spike's lip curled. Old blood didn't appeal to his taste. The demon, strong from death and blood, urged him forward. It wasn't quite finished playing that night.
Sensing his approach, the human looked up. There was no fear in his eyes as he took in Spike's altered appearance. Sorrow flickered briefly in pale blue eyes as he glanced at the blood still visible around Spike's lips, and quickly disappeared behind a serene mask.
"What are you smiling at?" Spike growled, flashing his fangs at the elder before him. He had seen people who had accepted death before, although none had ever worn such a look... It made Spike's flesh crawl, and he felt a brief surge of unease race through him.
"I've been waiting for you, child," the man said, his voice clear and strong despite his age. One thin hand gestured for Spike to approach, and his smile widened briefly as he saw the vampire hesitate.
Spike's eyes narrowed irritably as he noted the knowing smile. He had the feeling that he had just been challenged, and he wasn't about to fold to a frail human. He stepped forward. "Who are you?" Spike demanded.
The man waved his hand, dismissing the question. "That is not important, child. This is." His hand curled open, revealing a simple black ring resting in the center of his palm. "Well? Take it."
Spike accepted the ring, absently rubbing his thumb over it's smooth surface. "Tell me what you are," he demanded once again. The ring seemed to warm in his hand, and Spike felt a sense of recognition flash through him.
The man shook his head. "There is more to you than death," he proclaimed, stabbing at Spike's still chest with a narrow finger. "You have a path in this world that passes beyond mere bloodshed. When you begin upon this path, you will find someone who shall walk it with you. This ring is for her."
"You're bloody crazy," Spike hissed. Life was death. Life was blood. There was nothing more... not anymore. That was who he was. It was all he could ever be.
"Think what you will, child. Someday, you will recognize the truth of my words."
"Not bloody likely."
The man just grinned before drifting past Spike. The vampire didn't move to stop him, his attention far too firmly focused on the ring he held.
~Later~
"Drusilla... My dark Goddess," Spike breath reverently, holding his lady's pale, cold hand in his own. The part of him that lived on from before 'Spike' informed him that the feeling settling into him was joy. He resisted the urge to throw back his head and howl with laughter and settled for scraping his lips against Dru's delicate hand.
She looked down at him from huge, unreadable eyes. "Daddy left, Spike..." she moaned, pulling her hand away from his and pounding on the padded arms of her chair.
"I know, pet," Spike said, and the happiness welled up in him once more. Years of slaving away beneath Angelus, years of watching his sire use and discard Drusilla, it was all _over_. He was _gone_. "I'll take care of you, Princess. Just as you deserve to be treated."
Drusilla shook her head stubbornly. "Daddy was a bad boy for leaving his little girl alone..." She whimpered softly.
"You aren't alone, Dru. I'm here," Spike said softly, insistently. He felt a bit of his joy flatter beneath Drusilla's uncomprehending gaze. 'I'll have years to make her forget that bloody wanker, now.'
He fumbled around in his pocket, and his hand latched onto the familiar form of the ring. It had been years since it had been thrust into his hands, and it had been with him ever since then. He had left it behind, tossed it away, forgotten about it, and yet the ring always found it's way back to him. A small, unrecognized part of him was always secretly glad to find it back with him.
"Here, luv. This is for you, for new beginnings," Spike said, placing the bit of metal into Drusilla's waiting hand.
Her delighted coo was cut off as the ring landed against her flesh. Her eyes snapped open as far as they could go, and a low hiss broke out from between her clenched teeth. "Bad!" she shrieked, rising from her seat with such suddenness that Spike stumbled back a step.
"No, no, no! Mine!" Her words faded away into guttural snarls as Drusilla shot the ring across the room. She watched it's flight with rage filled eyes until it clanked to the floor and disappeared from sight.
"Pet? What was that about?" Spike asked. He had witnessed Drusilla's mood swings and her visions often during their years together, but nothing he had seen had matched the look in her eyes as she had held that ring.
Drusilla curled up against Spike, her hands latching onto his chest and arm. "_Bad_ " she grumbled against his neck. "Leave it."
Spike's emotions skyrocketed wildly upwards once again. Drusilla was in his arms, Angelus forgotten. If the price to pay for that was leaving the ring, so be it. "Let's go, pet. We'll find you a nice baker to dine on..."
~Now~
Spike rolled the ring between his fingers, relearning it's shape and texture after a long absence. Since leaving it behind, that night with Drusilla, the ring hadn't reappeared... until now.
He had found it nestled at the bottom of his pocket when he had searched for the cigarette tucked in there. The moment his fingers had brushed across it, he had felt a surprising sense of relief.
"Why are you back now?" Spike muttered, watching the light dance across it's smooth surface. He cast his mind backwards, searching out the words that had accompanied the ring.
"A new path..." Was he going in a new direction? Spike paused to consider that question. He was no longer as bloodthirsty as he had been, all those years ago. With Drusilla, he had discovered that he still had the capacity to feel more than hatred and blood lust. Now, she too was gone.
Spike had to grudgingly admit that there was a possibility that the new direction the old man had spoken of was not quite as unbelievable as he had once thought.
"What else is there for me, though?" he wondered, trying to work his way through the new thoughts plaguing him. He fell silent as the door to his home opened, admitting the surprisingly welcomed form of Willow Rosenberg.
"Um... hey," she smiled shyly, and Spike chuckled softly. "You were late and I--"
"Wanted to make sure I didn't fall on a sharp stick, luv?" Spike asked, his eyebrow climbing upwards.
Willow laughed and moved towards him. Once at his side, she looked down and gasped slightly. "What is that?"
"It's... a gift, Willow. For you," He drew her hand closer to him and slipped the ring onto her.
"It's lovely, Spike..."
It was _right_.
~End~
Heh. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going...