Rating:  PG, you know, for fairy tale-ish stuff… oh, and insanity.  Lots of insanity.  And, in this case, some mush.

Feedback:  I'd like that, thank you.

Distribution:  At the moment, here.  If someone wants it, I'd really appreciate it if you would ask me, please.  I would also be completely shocked.

Spoilers:  Not a single thing.

Disclaimer:  All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Dedication:  I'm dedicating this to all the people who first got to read this… and had to wait months and months between chapters, on occasion.

Author's Note:  Okay, chapter three is here.  And by the way, the poem is supposed to awful… one might even say bloody awful. Chapter Three

Meanwhile, Black Rose was skipping down the forest path and singing a lilting song in strange, slightly freaky tones.

"…the hottest spot north of Havana.  At the Copa, Copa Cabana," she trilled weirdly.  She had obviously been around the demon far too much.

What the girl didn't know was that there was a young man sitting in the branches of a tree and watching her every move.  At least we think she didn't know.  With Black Rose, it's hard to tell.  He had been silently observing the pretty maiden for several weeks from his perch, trying to work up the nerve to speak to her.  Tonight, he finally managed to produce coherent syllables.

"Um, excuse me," he said as he dropped rather awkwardly to the ground.  "I don't wish to frighten you, but you seem to be all alone in the woods.  There are horrid, nasty things that walk about here at night, and I was wondering if perhaps you would like me to escort you?" 

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said vaguely.   "But you talk so much like the bookman, it seems as though I know you."

The man smiled happily at her.  "May I accompany you?"

"Okay," she said slowly, her blue eyes flashing in the starlight. 

She might be a bit crazy, but she wasn't crazy enough not to notice he was the hottest thing this side of nuclear fission.

"Oh, please, you're embarrassing me!"

Just tellin' it like it is.  As they walked along the path to the berry patch, he introduced himself.

"My name is William.  What's yours?"

"Black Rose.  Or John Jacob Jingleheimerschmitz.  I forget which."

Somehow he didn't find her response odd at all, which goes to show what a smitten kitten he was.

"So, do you live near here?"

"Not far.  With daddy and my uncles.  They shall be displeased if they find I've spoken to somebody," she said thoughtfully.  "Or perhaps they'll do the Macarena while broiling swordfish.  Either way, I don't care.  I like you."

William was almost drunk with joy at her little declaration, and he decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Rose, I've written you a poem.  Would you care to hear it?"

"Just a moment," she said as she smacked him hard on the shoulder with her basket.  "Didn't want the nasty dolphin to nip you.  Now you can read it."

Even William found this particular incident unusual, but he decided to ignore it.  With shaking hands he unfolded a piece of parchment that he had kept over his heart and began to read the poem aloud in a nervous voice.

An Ode to the Pretty Stranger

Since yesterday it seems all I'm seein'

Are her pretty irises cerulean.

For all my life I have been savin'

Up dreams of her long tresses raven,

 And she uses my poor heart for a bin

To store thoughts of her skin like porcelain.

How shall I ever find time to make the rent

When I am haunted by her refinement?

My life, my thoughts, even my brain is a mess

Since I am confounded by her exquisiteness.

 Soon I must take up residence in a tent

In order to think of her beauty radiant.

Compared to her hand, others' are like a claw is

Since she is so completely flawless.

"I know it's not much good, but if you could possibly think of…" he abruptly broke off as Black Rose threw herself against him and proceeded to kiss him so soundly his sinuses were drained.   She drew away just as suddenly.

"That was nice," she said as she continued to walk down the forest path as though absolutely nothing had just happened.

"You can say that again," he murmured as he rushed to catch up with her.

Black Rose looked at the young man out of the corner of her eye and frowned.  She knew she shouldn't, but…

"I should very much like to give you a gift," she said in a pretty singsong. 

"Gift?"

"Yes.  My family shall be quite upset if they ever find out about it, though.  They say it is very naughty."  She grinned at him like a tigress.

William gulped audibly. 

"Would you like me to give it to you?" she asked sweetly.  "I can see you in my mind.  You have a purpose.  And you also have such pretty avocados growing in your hair."

            She drew very close to him, and, unable to speak, William nodded. 

            "Close your eyes," she instructed.

            He more than willingly complied.  Unfortunately, the next thing he felt was her fangs latching onto his neck and draining him down to the very last drop.  Then she quickly slashed her wrist and forced him to drink up.  When he'd had his fill, she simply let him drop to the ground with a dull plop.

            "That was not where I thought this scene was going."

            William, two things.  First, you are currently dead, so you shouldn't be complaining.  Second, this story is rated PG.  What did you think was going to happen?  Oh, don't sigh like that.  You don't even need to breathe anymore.

            Anyway, Black Rose looked down at William and said, "see you tomorrow night, my sweet."  Then she skipped merrily down the road, holding a fascinating conversation with her strawberries about the proper way to shine shoes.