Title: Beauty in Death
Rating PG-13
By PNS*
Summary: Spike gets kinda morbid while contemplating a fresh kill.


Spike looked at the body that lay strewn at his feel. Like a limp rag doll. Hardly the girl she had been. She seemed so fake now. Like a beautiful sculpture. He bent down. He had to touch her one last time. Her eyes were closed. Not open and staring like most. The only clue that she was dead were the holes in her neck and the slightly blue tinge to her body that was spreading. Like Sleeping Beauty.
He caressed her orange brown hair, the color of fresh honey. Then he thought of her big brown eyes as he traced her veins. He loved the large one down her arm. There was a hole at the end and flecks of blood marred her pale canvas. A dead princess.
Their dance had been intoxicating. Better than he had ever had. She had fought with her last breath. Screams and threats. Hollow and meaningless. She liked it. He had the claw marks to prove it. He had ravaged her and drunk of her until he couldn't hold anymore of her. Yet she wanted more.
She had called him base, vile, filthy. She understood his darkness, and had reveled in it at the same time. He had seen her, every night up in her castle, waiting for something. He had promised himself he'd have her. And he did, in the end.
On the floor, draped around them was her dress. White silk with gold thread. Only the best for a princess. An unhappy princess trapped in a tower. Her lips had lost their fullness. He almost longed for her vitality to return. He wanted to conquer that passion again. And again.
Dru was around. Somewhere. Mad at him again. It suited him fine. He got tired of her too. Angel, Darla, off gallivanting in the French countryside. He liked the aristocracy. He liked to torture and manipulate it. The girl had a diamond around her throat. He thought to where he had put it. Did it matter? Not really. Such a small thing compared to what had gone on. Silver moonlit invaded the room and cast a glow on everything. It seemed unreal and hazy.
He had been so close to giving her a taste. His wrist still dripped. But he didn't want to spoil her. She looked so perfect now. Bringing her back with a demon inside would have ruined her perfection. Even now he drew her closer, his cold skin against hers. Necrophiliac? Technically no. He was dead also. But he played with her now. Rubbing his hands over her and willing her to awaken.
"Naughty, naughty. We do not play with leftovers."
"Drusilla." Her eyes were large and cold. She floated through the room like a ghost.
"You liked her to much." Drusilla picked up the diamond necklace. "I'm your princess."
"You'll always be Dru. I was just having fun."
"Naughty Spike. You'll never be devoted to me solely."