I know I'm an awful person. not putting out another part in like. forever.
It's been a long, weird time in my life and I apologize.
Disclaimers in prologue.
Things You Don't Want To Know Chapter 7 **
Despite the small blade pressing into the skin of his throat, Tim dared to swallow. "You know." he said, giving it his best stage whisper. "If someone wanted to like RESCUE us, now would a REAL good time." He gave a sidelong glance to the red-headed vampire who was pressing the tip of the letter- opener sized blade into the flesh beneath his chin. She concentrated hungrily as it pierced his outer layer and blood dripped casually down the dull metal.
Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to ignore the pain of the slice, choosing instead to concentrate on the floors as they passed beyond the steel gate of the crowded freight elevator.
"Amanda, don't drool," Hank Summers jovially told the creature. He looked down at his daughter, bemusement still dancing behind his gray eyes. "Dawn, tell your little friend, no one's coming to rescue him." He let out a slight chuckle. "Kids today. You always think someone's going to be there to catch you when you fall."
"Dad. what're you talking about?" the girl asked desperately, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you didn't come when we called? Cause you think I have to stand on my own or something? Dad! You didn't even come to the funeral."
"Something like that, munchkin," Hank Summers said patiently.
"And why're you here with Drusilla? Don't you know she's evil? I mean, she IS a vampire."
Amanda's head turned away from her work of licking the blood from the blade, as she continued to probe Tim's neck. It snapped to the side reflexively and her glowing amber eyes scolded their disapproval of the girl.
"WHAT? You ARE evil," Dawn pointed out.
Hank sighed and shook his head. "Evil is such a. relative term."
"Then what're you DOING here?" the girl demanded. "Why're you with these." seeing the nasty look in the vampire's eyes, she reconsidered her words. "People. Dad," she moaned desperately. "Come home to Sunnydale. PLEASE. We need you. I need you."
"I'm afraid that's no doing, kiddo." His arm tightened around the girl, knocking the air out of her lungs. "It's not part of 'the plan.'"
Tim was already standing on his tip-toes, his head crushed against the mint- colored back wall of the elevator, but he stretched it still-upward, trying to find some relief for his tortured throat. "And just what is this. plan?" the young man questioned.
Hank shrugged, mirth still playing in his eyes. "Damned if I know."
* * *
Drusilla's tongue probed the wounds on Spike's cheek. He was restrained again, this time with metal handcuffs. The center of said cuffs was hung over the metal hook of a winch, and he hung just enough off the floor that he couldn't touch it. "Remember all the fun we used to have with these. It's the same pair as we used to use in Nevada. Remember all the times we had there?" Her voice was just a gentle purr in his ear. One hand trailed up his chest, lingering over the holes in his battered black shirt.
"What's going on, Drew," Spike asked, turning his head away from her slithering tongue.
"I've got a new toy. It's a broken toy that's still in love with the Slayer, but it's still a handsome toy. I like it very well."
"You know, those stupid Scoobies are going to come here for the Slayer's sister," Spike pointed out, continuing to dodge Drusilla's prodding tongue. The woman was deranged, and in the past, it had meant she was quite a bit of fun. But lately, it was more of an annoyance than anything else.
Her head suddenly popped back and Drusilla glared at him. "You've got to think we're stupid. We've got plans for slayers and things."
"For slayers?" Spike asked, revealing nothing.
"Yes, for slayers and their stupid little friends. Though I have a feeling." her saucer-like eyes rolled just a bit, fixating on the metal sheeting that served as a ceiling. . "But that's not who's blood is going to be shed tonight."
* * *
Nightwing decided the best approach was the classic: through the roof. Carefully pulling back the cleaning hatch on the skylight, he slid down into the darkness. The second his feet hit the floor of what Oracle assured him was supply storage, he pulled the flashlight from his glove and flipped the switch.
Four hundred glowing feral eyes glared back at him.
TBC
Disclaimers in prologue.
Things You Don't Want To Know Chapter 7 **
Despite the small blade pressing into the skin of his throat, Tim dared to swallow. "You know." he said, giving it his best stage whisper. "If someone wanted to like RESCUE us, now would a REAL good time." He gave a sidelong glance to the red-headed vampire who was pressing the tip of the letter- opener sized blade into the flesh beneath his chin. She concentrated hungrily as it pierced his outer layer and blood dripped casually down the dull metal.
Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to ignore the pain of the slice, choosing instead to concentrate on the floors as they passed beyond the steel gate of the crowded freight elevator.
"Amanda, don't drool," Hank Summers jovially told the creature. He looked down at his daughter, bemusement still dancing behind his gray eyes. "Dawn, tell your little friend, no one's coming to rescue him." He let out a slight chuckle. "Kids today. You always think someone's going to be there to catch you when you fall."
"Dad. what're you talking about?" the girl asked desperately, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you didn't come when we called? Cause you think I have to stand on my own or something? Dad! You didn't even come to the funeral."
"Something like that, munchkin," Hank Summers said patiently.
"And why're you here with Drusilla? Don't you know she's evil? I mean, she IS a vampire."
Amanda's head turned away from her work of licking the blood from the blade, as she continued to probe Tim's neck. It snapped to the side reflexively and her glowing amber eyes scolded their disapproval of the girl.
"WHAT? You ARE evil," Dawn pointed out.
Hank sighed and shook his head. "Evil is such a. relative term."
"Then what're you DOING here?" the girl demanded. "Why're you with these." seeing the nasty look in the vampire's eyes, she reconsidered her words. "People. Dad," she moaned desperately. "Come home to Sunnydale. PLEASE. We need you. I need you."
"I'm afraid that's no doing, kiddo." His arm tightened around the girl, knocking the air out of her lungs. "It's not part of 'the plan.'"
Tim was already standing on his tip-toes, his head crushed against the mint- colored back wall of the elevator, but he stretched it still-upward, trying to find some relief for his tortured throat. "And just what is this. plan?" the young man questioned.
Hank shrugged, mirth still playing in his eyes. "Damned if I know."
* * *
Drusilla's tongue probed the wounds on Spike's cheek. He was restrained again, this time with metal handcuffs. The center of said cuffs was hung over the metal hook of a winch, and he hung just enough off the floor that he couldn't touch it. "Remember all the fun we used to have with these. It's the same pair as we used to use in Nevada. Remember all the times we had there?" Her voice was just a gentle purr in his ear. One hand trailed up his chest, lingering over the holes in his battered black shirt.
"What's going on, Drew," Spike asked, turning his head away from her slithering tongue.
"I've got a new toy. It's a broken toy that's still in love with the Slayer, but it's still a handsome toy. I like it very well."
"You know, those stupid Scoobies are going to come here for the Slayer's sister," Spike pointed out, continuing to dodge Drusilla's prodding tongue. The woman was deranged, and in the past, it had meant she was quite a bit of fun. But lately, it was more of an annoyance than anything else.
Her head suddenly popped back and Drusilla glared at him. "You've got to think we're stupid. We've got plans for slayers and things."
"For slayers?" Spike asked, revealing nothing.
"Yes, for slayers and their stupid little friends. Though I have a feeling." her saucer-like eyes rolled just a bit, fixating on the metal sheeting that served as a ceiling. . "But that's not who's blood is going to be shed tonight."
* * *
Nightwing decided the best approach was the classic: through the roof. Carefully pulling back the cleaning hatch on the skylight, he slid down into the darkness. The second his feet hit the floor of what Oracle assured him was supply storage, he pulled the flashlight from his glove and flipped the switch.
Four hundred glowing feral eyes glared back at him.
TBC
