[Disclaimer: See previous chapter]
Omg. I have no smart-ass remark about -anything-.
**cries**
**composes self**
Read and review! **perkily**
**not-so-perkily** Or else! **growls**
Babyshowers at the Hellmouth
Chapter Eight
by Adele Elisabeth
"Wesley! Angel! Buf--"
Cordy was cut off by Darla's hand over her mouth. She bit down hard, but the aging (heheh) vampiress didn't seem to notice as she knocked the young seer out and dragged her out of the Magic Box.
Wesley, Giles, Anya, Xander, Dawn, Willow and Tara were unconscious in the main area of the store. Angel, Buffy, Niamh and Spike hadn't arrived back from patrolling yet.
Darla smiled.
Angel paced. The woman he loved - and their unborn baby - was being held by vampires.
Not just any vampires, either.
Darla and Drusilla.
So, mentally disturbed vampires as well. (Evil goes without saying)
"We can't just sit here." Spike burst out. "Granma and the bit-to-be are--"
"Spike." Niamh lay a hand on his arm as she saw Angel sink into a chair (going into brood-mode), "Don't."
"Don't what? Be pissed off?" Spike turned on her, the full force of his anger in his eyes, staring straight at her.
Cordy and Spike had become firm friends in the few days the Fang Gang had been there. She knew what it was like to be on the outside-looking-in. She'd been the 'spare part' of the Scoobies before. Like Anya, and like Tara. Cordy spoke her mind (as did Anya, but for different reasons) and Spike appreciated her honesty. It wasn't fair that something like this should happen to her. The Scoobies never appreciated Cordelia Chase, but she'd changed.
No, no, that wasn't right. She'd grown.
Cordy Liam wasn't the spoilt little rich girl that the Scoobies remembered. She didn't live for designer wear, and didn't exist only to make everyone else feel two inches high.
And with all this information in mind, Spike glared at his fiery-haired lover.
"You can be pissed off. I'm pissed off, too. But listen honey, we all know what's going on. Angel doesn't need to hear it a dozen goddamn times out of your big fucking mouth." Niamh's eyes flashed with ill-concealed fury.
Spike shrank back in the face of -her- anger, and fell sullenly silent.
Angel's eyes showed gratitude for the barest second.
A silence fell over the room, the only noise the rain beating on the windows and Spike's pacing.
"Can I...Spike, you're not going to like this...neither will Angel...or anyone, actually..." Niamh's broken sentences reached Spike as if they came from very far away, or through closed doors. The pair had retreated to his crypt, unsure of how they could help at all, just wanting to hide from the hurt, the pain.
"Nee..." he started warningly, his arms tightening around her.
"I-want-to-try-and-help-Drusilla." She said it very fast, before he could interrupt her.
Spike frowned. "Help her...what do you mean?"
"God, I don't want to kill Cordy, luv. Relax." Niamh replied, rolling her eyes. "You're reformed, aren't you? Why can't she?"
"Well..."
"You can't use her lack of sanity as a reason, either." She added. "If anything, it makes things easier."
"You talk to Angel." He said finally.
Niamh knew she'd won that little 'argument'. All she needed now was to convince Angel.
Cordy awoke.
She didn't know where she was, but it didn't seem like a place that could harbor evil. It was beautiful. Darkly coloured, but beautiful.
There was a wardrobe of stunning gowns, and the entire room seemed to be something out of a dream.
Except for the fact that there didn't seem to be a door or any windows. And rather than lights, there were candles.
"Stepmummy is awake." Drusilla's musical voice met her ears, soft, dangerous in her seeming innocence. "She slept so long. Daddy will not be pleased with me, not at all. Grandmummy came and she made me, she made me. Steal away Daddy's Queen and her precious little one."
Cordy shivered. Drusilla didn't -sound- terribly dangerous. That, she supposed, was what made her all the more.
"Miss Edith told me about the bad little goldilocks that would hurt my precious boy, you know." Now Drusilla was in the room, standing by Cordy's bed - with no clues as to how she'd gotten there, either. "But she can't hurt him anymore. Sweet sister's stepmummy came, and she'll keep him safe."
Cordy eyed the wistful vampiress, unsure of how to go about this. "You mean...Niamh?"
"The beautiful Queen speaks." Drusilla sat down on the side of the bed, eyes wide with seeming innocence and a soft smile graced her features. "She's so pretty, so very pretty." The vampiress reached out and brushed the back of her hand against Cordy's cheek. "I like her hair. And she knows those in my heart."
"Why have you brought me here?" Cordy asked, carefully. Darla, Darla was evil. But suddenly, Drusilla didn't seem to be. She seemed as though she was just lonely, just wanted a friend.
"It's very bad. Little queen ought pay it no heed. She is above such naughty deeds." Drusilla told her importantly.
"You can't be a good queen if you don't know what's going on, though." Cordy realised that speaking...normally would get her nowhere. As she tried to make sense of Drusilla's rambles, she had to...use them herself, she supposed. "I'm sure you would be a good queen."
"I used to be a queen...my precious boy's special dark goddess. And then he loved the light...the hurt...the bad little slayer..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Now he dances with fire. Once he loved the night, but he was coaxed away by cursed light...now he dances with fire." She nodded. "Fire is better than light. Closer to darkness, but creating a light of it's own..." again she trailed off. Cordy found herself growing fascinated by the tale the woman - vampiress - before her was spinning. "Now I am only a princess."
"A princess by moonlight." Cordy murmured, caught up in the whirl of Drusilla's madness.
"You know! You know much, you do. You see beyond...true vision..."
"I was told you can too," she sat up further against the soft pillows, enraptured by her new 'friend'.
Drusilla ignored the comment, and brushed her hand once more against Cordy's cheek. "You are a pretty bird in a gilded cage." She paused, and sighed with unneeded breath. "So am I."
With that slightly ambiguous comment, Drusilla left the room - once more concealing how exactly she did that.
Cordy leaned back against the pillows, mind working overtime.
***
I like Drusilla. Sue me. I didn't want to stake her, I didn't think she should be evil and get all the badness and hurt, so this is what I'm doing with her. :P
Review. I mean it.
Loveness,
Adele Elisabeth
Omg. I have no smart-ass remark about -anything-.
**cries**
**composes self**
Read and review! **perkily**
**not-so-perkily** Or else! **growls**
Babyshowers at the Hellmouth
Chapter Eight
by Adele Elisabeth
"Wesley! Angel! Buf--"
Cordy was cut off by Darla's hand over her mouth. She bit down hard, but the aging (heheh) vampiress didn't seem to notice as she knocked the young seer out and dragged her out of the Magic Box.
Wesley, Giles, Anya, Xander, Dawn, Willow and Tara were unconscious in the main area of the store. Angel, Buffy, Niamh and Spike hadn't arrived back from patrolling yet.
Darla smiled.
Angel paced. The woman he loved - and their unborn baby - was being held by vampires.
Not just any vampires, either.
Darla and Drusilla.
So, mentally disturbed vampires as well. (Evil goes without saying)
"We can't just sit here." Spike burst out. "Granma and the bit-to-be are--"
"Spike." Niamh lay a hand on his arm as she saw Angel sink into a chair (going into brood-mode), "Don't."
"Don't what? Be pissed off?" Spike turned on her, the full force of his anger in his eyes, staring straight at her.
Cordy and Spike had become firm friends in the few days the Fang Gang had been there. She knew what it was like to be on the outside-looking-in. She'd been the 'spare part' of the Scoobies before. Like Anya, and like Tara. Cordy spoke her mind (as did Anya, but for different reasons) and Spike appreciated her honesty. It wasn't fair that something like this should happen to her. The Scoobies never appreciated Cordelia Chase, but she'd changed.
No, no, that wasn't right. She'd grown.
Cordy Liam wasn't the spoilt little rich girl that the Scoobies remembered. She didn't live for designer wear, and didn't exist only to make everyone else feel two inches high.
And with all this information in mind, Spike glared at his fiery-haired lover.
"You can be pissed off. I'm pissed off, too. But listen honey, we all know what's going on. Angel doesn't need to hear it a dozen goddamn times out of your big fucking mouth." Niamh's eyes flashed with ill-concealed fury.
Spike shrank back in the face of -her- anger, and fell sullenly silent.
Angel's eyes showed gratitude for the barest second.
A silence fell over the room, the only noise the rain beating on the windows and Spike's pacing.
"Can I...Spike, you're not going to like this...neither will Angel...or anyone, actually..." Niamh's broken sentences reached Spike as if they came from very far away, or through closed doors. The pair had retreated to his crypt, unsure of how they could help at all, just wanting to hide from the hurt, the pain.
"Nee..." he started warningly, his arms tightening around her.
"I-want-to-try-and-help-Drusilla." She said it very fast, before he could interrupt her.
Spike frowned. "Help her...what do you mean?"
"God, I don't want to kill Cordy, luv. Relax." Niamh replied, rolling her eyes. "You're reformed, aren't you? Why can't she?"
"Well..."
"You can't use her lack of sanity as a reason, either." She added. "If anything, it makes things easier."
"You talk to Angel." He said finally.
Niamh knew she'd won that little 'argument'. All she needed now was to convince Angel.
Cordy awoke.
She didn't know where she was, but it didn't seem like a place that could harbor evil. It was beautiful. Darkly coloured, but beautiful.
There was a wardrobe of stunning gowns, and the entire room seemed to be something out of a dream.
Except for the fact that there didn't seem to be a door or any windows. And rather than lights, there were candles.
"Stepmummy is awake." Drusilla's musical voice met her ears, soft, dangerous in her seeming innocence. "She slept so long. Daddy will not be pleased with me, not at all. Grandmummy came and she made me, she made me. Steal away Daddy's Queen and her precious little one."
Cordy shivered. Drusilla didn't -sound- terribly dangerous. That, she supposed, was what made her all the more.
"Miss Edith told me about the bad little goldilocks that would hurt my precious boy, you know." Now Drusilla was in the room, standing by Cordy's bed - with no clues as to how she'd gotten there, either. "But she can't hurt him anymore. Sweet sister's stepmummy came, and she'll keep him safe."
Cordy eyed the wistful vampiress, unsure of how to go about this. "You mean...Niamh?"
"The beautiful Queen speaks." Drusilla sat down on the side of the bed, eyes wide with seeming innocence and a soft smile graced her features. "She's so pretty, so very pretty." The vampiress reached out and brushed the back of her hand against Cordy's cheek. "I like her hair. And she knows those in my heart."
"Why have you brought me here?" Cordy asked, carefully. Darla, Darla was evil. But suddenly, Drusilla didn't seem to be. She seemed as though she was just lonely, just wanted a friend.
"It's very bad. Little queen ought pay it no heed. She is above such naughty deeds." Drusilla told her importantly.
"You can't be a good queen if you don't know what's going on, though." Cordy realised that speaking...normally would get her nowhere. As she tried to make sense of Drusilla's rambles, she had to...use them herself, she supposed. "I'm sure you would be a good queen."
"I used to be a queen...my precious boy's special dark goddess. And then he loved the light...the hurt...the bad little slayer..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Now he dances with fire. Once he loved the night, but he was coaxed away by cursed light...now he dances with fire." She nodded. "Fire is better than light. Closer to darkness, but creating a light of it's own..." again she trailed off. Cordy found herself growing fascinated by the tale the woman - vampiress - before her was spinning. "Now I am only a princess."
"A princess by moonlight." Cordy murmured, caught up in the whirl of Drusilla's madness.
"You know! You know much, you do. You see beyond...true vision..."
"I was told you can too," she sat up further against the soft pillows, enraptured by her new 'friend'.
Drusilla ignored the comment, and brushed her hand once more against Cordy's cheek. "You are a pretty bird in a gilded cage." She paused, and sighed with unneeded breath. "So am I."
With that slightly ambiguous comment, Drusilla left the room - once more concealing how exactly she did that.
Cordy leaned back against the pillows, mind working overtime.
***
I like Drusilla. Sue me. I didn't want to stake her, I didn't think she should be evil and get all the badness and hurt, so this is what I'm doing with her. :P
Review. I mean it.
Loveness,
Adele Elisabeth