Title: Come Undone
Author: claudia6913
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Hellmouth is closed, LA is no longer in danger. What is a Witch and a vampire with a soul to do? Two Years Post Not Fade Away
Disclaimer: I own nothing of these characters, only the words in between. Those characters belong to Joss and co.
Distribution: a href"http:magical-worlds.us/claudia6913/index.php" My site /a , a href"http: LJ /a , a href"http: of Spillow LJ /a . Others, just ask.
A/N: This began as a drabble challenge from Lilbreck and then...I don't know. It grew and changed and formed into something wholly different. Thanks Lilbreck for the challenge and thanks to Emmy and Falcons for hooking me on GotR!
b Chapter 3 /b
They were close, Spike sensed it. It was like a tension that went through him, made him bounce on the balls of his feet. The kind of edginess that made him ready to fight, ready for some kind of action. There was no calm before the storm with Spike, there was nothing like that. Pure energy ran through him.
Another town, another demon-infested bar...it all began to blend together after a while, and this; well, this was no different. They were now on the east coast of the United States. Last anyone had known, Willow had been living in Washington State after coming back from Brazil. Then...she was gone. They were now an entire continent away from where she had last been seen, but Spike knew they were close, they just had to be.
"Talk to him, yeah?" Spike said, pointing to a demon walking their way. Illyria shrugged without emotion. She was not sure anyone here was worthy enough to talk to, but since Spike thought it necessary, she would at least go with him.
"Seen a girl, witch, 'bout yeh high?" Spike asked, holding his hand about where he remembered Willow's height used to be. The demon scoffed and tried to push past Spike and Illyria, but they held their ground.
"Do not toy with us, lower being," Illyria said, placing a hand on the demon's shoulder. She squeezed and the demon cried out. "Do you know of a witch with red hair?"
"Witch you said? Only witch 'round here's out on the banks," the demon said quickly. He fell to his knees when Illyria let him go, rubbing his shoulder where she had grabbed him. He looked Illyria up and down before turning to the sound of Spike's voice.
"That so?" Spike asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. There had been leads like this one, but they had not really led anywhere. This one might be no different from the rest.
"Yeah, powerful lil' thing too. Why would you want to go looking for her?" the demon asked. He did not know these two newcomers, but it was obvious to him that they were not from around these parts. You did not go courting trouble by looking for the witch, it was common knowledge, but if they wanted it, he would give it to them.
"Doesn't matter to you, mate, just want to find her is all," Spike said. His hopes were walking away with his caution, leaving him practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you when your woman comes back carryin' your ashes," the demon said, a half laugh falling from his lips.
"I am not his...woman," Illyria said with disgust. She was not owned by anyone or anything and took great offense to the demon's suggestion.
"Wanna be mine?" the demon asked, turning to smile at Illyria.
"Can I kill him now? He is of no further use to us. His death will please me," Illyria said, looking down on the demon with antipathy. Her fingers itched to dig inside his wasted form and she was awash with pleasure as she anticipated the kill.
"Sure," Spike said, lighting up.
The screams rang through the darkened alley and no one came to help their comrade, if he had any friends at all. Illyria killed him with a quickness Spike could appreciate, but the blood was splattered everywhere, in her hair, on her clothes, on her face. There was a time, which now seemed so long ago now, that Spike would have found that beautiful, though, a part of him, one he kept hidden and locked away, gloried in the sight. She seemed so natural in that condition, covered in blood and entrails, towering over the mass that had once been the demon. Illyria turned and looked at him, a small quirk of a smile on her face, just a hint at happiness. It was rare he got to see that look, and rarer yet that it was without blood.
"Looks like we're goin' to the Outer Banks, Pet," Spike said, tossing his cigarette. Illyria nodded.
"The Witch will be most displeased by our arrival," Illyria said, cocking her head to the side as she walked over the corpse at her feet.
"An' what if she is?" Spike asked, walking up beside her. "You don't know Red like I do." The short laugh, if it could be called that, made Spike look sideways at Illyria. "Didn't think I'd told a joke."
"No, you did not, but there is much…humor, as you say, in your statement."
"How's that, then, Pet?"
"You say you know her better than I. While true, you were acquainted with her far longer; the shell knew her, spoke to her. You did not know her, merely knew of her."
"That's not true," Spike retorted. Illyria was wrong about that. He i had /i known her. Willow and Spike had spoken on several occasions, not to mention that one time he had kidnapped her or the other time he had tried to bite her. There had been other times; he was sure, during patrols, for instance, that they had spoken. Willow had, after all, stopped him from staking himself…and then he had proceeded to rip her self-confidence and trust in her friends to shreds. But, you had to know someone to do that.
"As you wish, vampire," Illyria said.
