Doesn't Anyone Stay Dead Around Here?
Chapter 7
Spike watched Buffy dress and ascend the ladder out of the lower part of his crypt from underneath his eyelids. Both knew his façade of sleep to be just that, but neither acknowledged it as such. It hurt less if he pretended to be asleep; she didn't have to make unkind excuses and he didn't have to listen to them or pathetically try and convince her to stay.
After he heard the crypt door close behind her, he sat up in bed. He rose and dressed at a leisurely pace, savoring the slowly fading smell of Buffy's perfume. After he finished, he made his way upstairs and headed to the refrigerator.
He opened the door and pulled out the first jar of blood his hand reached. Spike paused; something about it seemed off. He shook his head. After all, he knew those nosey blokes had gone poking around in his fridge earlier that afternoon. It was only natural that the jar should not be as he had left it.
Spike walked over to the television and switched it on before flopping down on the sofa. As he sat, he opened the container and took a long drink. The woman on the television was trying to sell a mop, designed especially for hardwood floors. Spike gazed pointedly at the packed earth that formed the floor of his crypt and snorted.
"'S not gonna do me a lotta good, ya scilly bint!" he slurred. Then he paused, shaking his head. He didn't remember drinking that night, so why was he talking like a drunken child? He suddenly found he had difficulty focusing his thoughts, and the jar of blood slipped from between nerveless fingers, splattering red liquid as it hit the ground and tipped on its side, allowing the contents to escape.
He heard the door to his crypt open, and with great effort, Spike turned his head to see who his visitor was. He barely had time to focus on the figure who had just entered his crypt.
"You!" he cried.
And then the world went black.
***
Across town, Blair awoke to an unrelenting pounding on his hotel room door. He opened it a crack to reveal Abe's excited face.
"You have to come see this, Blair!"
Blair peered at his cameraman through bleary eyes and looked at his watch.
"What time is it?" he queried when his eyes refused to focus on the small numbers.
"Just after three." Abe replied. "Come on!"
"Abe-" Blair started.
"I know. It's late, but trust me. You want to see this!" Abe insisted.
"Okay, okay. Just a sec." Blair shut the door and pulled on his jeans and a sweater. He turned to tell his girlfriend that he was leaving, only to discover she wasn't there. He just shrugged. She was a bit of a night owl and often went for walks in the middle of the night.
He opened the door again and locking it behind him, followed Abe to his room. Once there, Abe gestured to a chair in front of the TV.
"Sit," Abe said and started the tape just before the man and woman entered the screen.
After the tape finished, Blair turned and looked at Abe, questions clearly evident on his face.
"That's from the crypt." It wasn't a question and Abe only nodded in reply.
Blair continued, "And those two are the two from this afternoon."
"And . . ." Abe prompted.
"And they killed someone." Blair said, even as the pieces fell into place in his head.
"Or something," Abe suggested. "What happens to vampires when they die?"
"I don't know." Blair replied. "I've sure as hell never heard that they explode into dust, though."
"Yeah, but does that happen to humans when they die?"
"No. Definitely no."
"So," Abe pushed, "vampires or something else. It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it sure ain't human and they know something about it. And we've got proof."
Blair smiled. "You think they're still there?" he asked, pointing at the crypt still on the television screen.
"I don't know, but I think it's worth checking out."
***
The two journalists crept up to the crypt door, listening for any sounds of danger. Hearing none, Blair boldly pushed the door open and strode in, his trepidation from earlier in the day forgotten in light of his newly acquired video evidence. Abe followed him into the crypt. The two men stopped just over the threshold. The woman was nowhere to be seen. However, the bleached-blonde man they were looking for appeared to be asleep on the sofa, and a small, middle-aged man with short gray hair was bending over him.
The second man heard them enter and quickly stood up. Something about the man's posture screamed "GUILTY!" at Abe, but he shrugged the feeling off.
The man smiled slightly and asked, "Can I help you?" as if it was normal for two strange men to barge in upon him in a crypt in the middle of the night.
"Yes," Blair replied, "We are here to speak with your associate." He indicated the blonde lying on the couch.
"I'm afraid now isn't a very good time," the man's soft voice re-assured Abe's unsettled mind. "Why don't you try back in the morning? I'm sure he'll be happy to speak with you then."
The man turned from them and began muttering under his breath, effectively dismissing them.
Abe yawned, suddenly realizing how tired he was. *I'll just rest my eyes a second,* he thought as he sat down on the crypt floor. As his eyes fluttered closed, he noticed that Blair was already lying on his side, snoring.
The strange man looked the two humans over and smiled a devious smile, much different from the reassuring one he had recently given them.
"They'll do just fine."
tbc
Chapter 7
Spike watched Buffy dress and ascend the ladder out of the lower part of his crypt from underneath his eyelids. Both knew his façade of sleep to be just that, but neither acknowledged it as such. It hurt less if he pretended to be asleep; she didn't have to make unkind excuses and he didn't have to listen to them or pathetically try and convince her to stay.
After he heard the crypt door close behind her, he sat up in bed. He rose and dressed at a leisurely pace, savoring the slowly fading smell of Buffy's perfume. After he finished, he made his way upstairs and headed to the refrigerator.
He opened the door and pulled out the first jar of blood his hand reached. Spike paused; something about it seemed off. He shook his head. After all, he knew those nosey blokes had gone poking around in his fridge earlier that afternoon. It was only natural that the jar should not be as he had left it.
Spike walked over to the television and switched it on before flopping down on the sofa. As he sat, he opened the container and took a long drink. The woman on the television was trying to sell a mop, designed especially for hardwood floors. Spike gazed pointedly at the packed earth that formed the floor of his crypt and snorted.
"'S not gonna do me a lotta good, ya scilly bint!" he slurred. Then he paused, shaking his head. He didn't remember drinking that night, so why was he talking like a drunken child? He suddenly found he had difficulty focusing his thoughts, and the jar of blood slipped from between nerveless fingers, splattering red liquid as it hit the ground and tipped on its side, allowing the contents to escape.
He heard the door to his crypt open, and with great effort, Spike turned his head to see who his visitor was. He barely had time to focus on the figure who had just entered his crypt.
"You!" he cried.
And then the world went black.
***
Across town, Blair awoke to an unrelenting pounding on his hotel room door. He opened it a crack to reveal Abe's excited face.
"You have to come see this, Blair!"
Blair peered at his cameraman through bleary eyes and looked at his watch.
"What time is it?" he queried when his eyes refused to focus on the small numbers.
"Just after three." Abe replied. "Come on!"
"Abe-" Blair started.
"I know. It's late, but trust me. You want to see this!" Abe insisted.
"Okay, okay. Just a sec." Blair shut the door and pulled on his jeans and a sweater. He turned to tell his girlfriend that he was leaving, only to discover she wasn't there. He just shrugged. She was a bit of a night owl and often went for walks in the middle of the night.
He opened the door again and locking it behind him, followed Abe to his room. Once there, Abe gestured to a chair in front of the TV.
"Sit," Abe said and started the tape just before the man and woman entered the screen.
After the tape finished, Blair turned and looked at Abe, questions clearly evident on his face.
"That's from the crypt." It wasn't a question and Abe only nodded in reply.
Blair continued, "And those two are the two from this afternoon."
"And . . ." Abe prompted.
"And they killed someone." Blair said, even as the pieces fell into place in his head.
"Or something," Abe suggested. "What happens to vampires when they die?"
"I don't know." Blair replied. "I've sure as hell never heard that they explode into dust, though."
"Yeah, but does that happen to humans when they die?"
"No. Definitely no."
"So," Abe pushed, "vampires or something else. It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it sure ain't human and they know something about it. And we've got proof."
Blair smiled. "You think they're still there?" he asked, pointing at the crypt still on the television screen.
"I don't know, but I think it's worth checking out."
***
The two journalists crept up to the crypt door, listening for any sounds of danger. Hearing none, Blair boldly pushed the door open and strode in, his trepidation from earlier in the day forgotten in light of his newly acquired video evidence. Abe followed him into the crypt. The two men stopped just over the threshold. The woman was nowhere to be seen. However, the bleached-blonde man they were looking for appeared to be asleep on the sofa, and a small, middle-aged man with short gray hair was bending over him.
The second man heard them enter and quickly stood up. Something about the man's posture screamed "GUILTY!" at Abe, but he shrugged the feeling off.
The man smiled slightly and asked, "Can I help you?" as if it was normal for two strange men to barge in upon him in a crypt in the middle of the night.
"Yes," Blair replied, "We are here to speak with your associate." He indicated the blonde lying on the couch.
"I'm afraid now isn't a very good time," the man's soft voice re-assured Abe's unsettled mind. "Why don't you try back in the morning? I'm sure he'll be happy to speak with you then."
The man turned from them and began muttering under his breath, effectively dismissing them.
Abe yawned, suddenly realizing how tired he was. *I'll just rest my eyes a second,* he thought as he sat down on the crypt floor. As his eyes fluttered closed, he noticed that Blair was already lying on his side, snoring.
The strange man looked the two humans over and smiled a devious smile, much different from the reassuring one he had recently given them.
"They'll do just fine."
tbc