Title: Want Me
Author: PNS*
Notes: Still got this itch to scratch. Hehe. For Brad.
"I'm old Louis." Buffy didn't turn around to see the vampire. Her heightened senses told her he had approached. "Ever more than twenty." Her voice had taken on the subdued quality of his own, a voice that had all the time in the world to say what it had to say.
"I am too late then?"
"Yes."
"Was there ever the right time?"
"Is there ever?" She turned around, from her perch overlooking the Main Street of Sunnydale. Her blond hair gleamed under the garish neon lights of The Sun Cinema.
"How long ago?"
"A couple years. Can you not tell?" She approached him, slowly and he peered at her face, which had small wrinkles, a sign of when she had been turned. "Without the mark of youth that you still hold." He licked his lips, feeling his fangs with his tongue, feeling dizzy. "Do you still want me? Do I still hold that Slayer magic that drew you to me all those years ago? That sent you searching for me?" She looked up into his golden eyes, with a pair of shocking green ones. She laughed derisively. "I am nothing now. You wanted to make me nothing." He looked down in shame. "Do not be upset. It happened anyway. And I don't miss the pain."
"Then it left all at once?"
"No. Not all at once. It was one of your kind. Dark hair." Louis dug his fingers into his palms. Lestat. "A little at a time. Like you." She reached out and put her hand on his chest.
"And what did your friends say? I remember they were very important to you?"
"They think I'm dead. And I am. I watch out for them, stay away, so I don't hurt them."
"How horrible." He twisted around her, pulling her back close to his chest and put his lips near to her ear. "So come away with me. We can visit the world. The world you never got to see." She smelled like death and it was a little repulsive, but also comforting, to know a woman of his own power, his own death.
"I will never again see the heaven I once knew."
"You've been condemned to earth. A Little bird with broken wings." He noticed now, how silly he didn't before, the tattoo that graced her back. The delicate wings that dove down the back of her low backed shirt. She muffled a cruel, bitter laugh, as she stared out over the empty streets.
"I thought of you Louis, when he did this. I thought it should have been you, or Spike or Angel, anyone but this unfamiliar cold. But I guess now it doesn't matter. I'm here just the same."
"So they never see you?"
"No." Her voice was small and he only heard it as the wind carried the sound past his ear, up to the sky, expansive and bulging with stars.
"Are you ready to go my love?"
"I think so. But I'm not sure of the way. I've been here so long."
"I can guide you. Through the darkest dark I can guide you." He took her hand and jumped, soared down to the ground and landed without more of a whisper than a cat. She landed, with the thump of a rabbit and they were off, gliding down the street with the speed of light, hurtling through the dark. He jumped into his car and sat still as she jumped in next to him. Tears touched the corners of her eyes.
"Start the car," she said hoarsely. "I want to be gone before day hints of arriving."
"We are gone." He started the engine and they drove away. Was she to become his Claudia? Defiled like her? "Lestat, you ruin everything." Louis muttered to himself. He couldn't believe, that after all the pain it would continue. They would run, across the continents, and he would show her a world beyond what she had seen. Beyond the uncouth vampires she staked every night to the ones he used to be with. The ones who took pleasure in culture and passion. That was what she needed.
"Goodbye Sunnydale!" Buffy stood up in her seat and yelled to the darkness, hands gripping the top of the windshield of the convertible. Louis observed her glowing, pale skin under the passing streetlights, remarking on its fragile look, and the fierceness underneath. Fierceness of a life wasted, and a life yet to be.
She sat back down and smiled at him. She leaned over and nibbled his neck with the tiny daggers that were sheathed in her jaw, daggers that pierced and pleasured him. With less oomph but the same conviction Louis echoed her goodbye. Goodbye to loneliness.
Author: PNS*
Notes: Still got this itch to scratch. Hehe. For Brad.
"I'm old Louis." Buffy didn't turn around to see the vampire. Her heightened senses told her he had approached. "Ever more than twenty." Her voice had taken on the subdued quality of his own, a voice that had all the time in the world to say what it had to say.
"I am too late then?"
"Yes."
"Was there ever the right time?"
"Is there ever?" She turned around, from her perch overlooking the Main Street of Sunnydale. Her blond hair gleamed under the garish neon lights of The Sun Cinema.
"How long ago?"
"A couple years. Can you not tell?" She approached him, slowly and he peered at her face, which had small wrinkles, a sign of when she had been turned. "Without the mark of youth that you still hold." He licked his lips, feeling his fangs with his tongue, feeling dizzy. "Do you still want me? Do I still hold that Slayer magic that drew you to me all those years ago? That sent you searching for me?" She looked up into his golden eyes, with a pair of shocking green ones. She laughed derisively. "I am nothing now. You wanted to make me nothing." He looked down in shame. "Do not be upset. It happened anyway. And I don't miss the pain."
"Then it left all at once?"
"No. Not all at once. It was one of your kind. Dark hair." Louis dug his fingers into his palms. Lestat. "A little at a time. Like you." She reached out and put her hand on his chest.
"And what did your friends say? I remember they were very important to you?"
"They think I'm dead. And I am. I watch out for them, stay away, so I don't hurt them."
"How horrible." He twisted around her, pulling her back close to his chest and put his lips near to her ear. "So come away with me. We can visit the world. The world you never got to see." She smelled like death and it was a little repulsive, but also comforting, to know a woman of his own power, his own death.
"I will never again see the heaven I once knew."
"You've been condemned to earth. A Little bird with broken wings." He noticed now, how silly he didn't before, the tattoo that graced her back. The delicate wings that dove down the back of her low backed shirt. She muffled a cruel, bitter laugh, as she stared out over the empty streets.
"I thought of you Louis, when he did this. I thought it should have been you, or Spike or Angel, anyone but this unfamiliar cold. But I guess now it doesn't matter. I'm here just the same."
"So they never see you?"
"No." Her voice was small and he only heard it as the wind carried the sound past his ear, up to the sky, expansive and bulging with stars.
"Are you ready to go my love?"
"I think so. But I'm not sure of the way. I've been here so long."
"I can guide you. Through the darkest dark I can guide you." He took her hand and jumped, soared down to the ground and landed without more of a whisper than a cat. She landed, with the thump of a rabbit and they were off, gliding down the street with the speed of light, hurtling through the dark. He jumped into his car and sat still as she jumped in next to him. Tears touched the corners of her eyes.
"Start the car," she said hoarsely. "I want to be gone before day hints of arriving."
"We are gone." He started the engine and they drove away. Was she to become his Claudia? Defiled like her? "Lestat, you ruin everything." Louis muttered to himself. He couldn't believe, that after all the pain it would continue. They would run, across the continents, and he would show her a world beyond what she had seen. Beyond the uncouth vampires she staked every night to the ones he used to be with. The ones who took pleasure in culture and passion. That was what she needed.
"Goodbye Sunnydale!" Buffy stood up in her seat and yelled to the darkness, hands gripping the top of the windshield of the convertible. Louis observed her glowing, pale skin under the passing streetlights, remarking on its fragile look, and the fierceness underneath. Fierceness of a life wasted, and a life yet to be.
She sat back down and smiled at him. She leaned over and nibbled his neck with the tiny daggers that were sheathed in her jaw, daggers that pierced and pleasured him. With less oomph but the same conviction Louis echoed her goodbye. Goodbye to loneliness.