[Disclaimer: Yada yada. See previous]
Hey, lookie! Chapter ten. Wow. Trust me, when I started this, this wasn't what I was aiming for. My stories never end up how I planned them. It was supposed to be 'light hearted comedy' in which Cordy went and flaunted her new-found domestic bliss at Buffy, Spike found a girlfriend and everyone laughed at Buffy. Okay, maybe not -everyone-. But most of them.
Notes to reviewers:
Mrs O-Town: Hey! When are you going to update 'The Country Club Curse' and 'Mind/Body Co-ordination'?
No, that's about all I have to say. So 'note to reviewer'.
Babyshowers at the Hellmouth
Chapter 10
by Adele Elisabeth
Darla glared at Angel. "Without me, you can't find your precious little wife." She snarled. "You wouldn't dare stake me."
Buffy was filing her nails. Niamh quite purposely stood - stomped would be a better word - on her toes as she passed her. Calmly, the over 300 year young siren walked up and held the stake pointed directly at the blonde ('coughdyedcough') vampiress's heart, almost breaking the skin. "What say we kill you, call reinforcements, hunt down every vamp in Sunny-D and methodically check every place in this tiny little hell hole? What makes you think you're so indispensible?"
Darla flinched. Niamh meant business, and her tone stated it. The two women - for lack of a better word - had never gotten along.
Spike brightened. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Angel? It is your wife."
All eyes were on the ex-vampire.
"Darla has ten minutes to decide whether she's going to talk or not. If she doesn't, we kill her." He said it with clinical detatchment. "Niamh? Those reinforcements you mentioned? From where, exactly?"
"I'm owed a couple hundred favors."
"Get on it."
"Getting on it."
"Shit. This isn't a rescue operation. It's a fucking war!" Niamh burst out. Various 'creatures' had assembled in the cemetery, not particularly liking it, but were all here either because they owed Niamh, or owed someone who owed someone who owed someone who owed Niamh. Christ, that girl sure as hell got around.
Greeogh had recruited some buddies, too.
Spike ran a hand down her back, and put his chin on her shoulder. "Maybe."
"Right. Let's get at it." She nodded, and sighed.
Darla had chosen silence, convinced they were bluffing. She was staked without a second thought. The expression of pure surprise would not be easily forgotten.
Drusilla sat up, startled. "Something is happening." She whispered, excitement evident in her tone. "The stars whisper sweeetly, they do. Lose the queen and you lose the game. Black knights ride with the shining ones..."
Cordy struggled to wring coherent thought from Drusilla's words. "We're being rescued...?" The plural was automatic. She'd stopped thinking of Drusilla as an enemy, as a vampire. She was just another 'pretty bird in a gilded cage'. "Where is Darla - the old queen?" she queried.
"Away...away...floating on the breeze. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes." Drusilla replied, oh-so-serious.
"Darla's been staked? That either simplifies things, or complicates them." Cordy paced, one hand placed protectively on Bump, something that had become habitual. She paused. "Black knights ride with the shining ones? Who are the shining ones? And who, for that matter, are the black knights..." The questions weren't exactly addressed to Drusilla, they were more rhetorical.
"All's fair in love and war, but nothing is fair when war is fought for love." The dark-haired vampiress shrugged.
Cordy swore silently and wished that for once, Drusilla would stop talking in bloody riddles.
***
In the next chapter...stuff happens.
Hey, lookie! Chapter ten. Wow. Trust me, when I started this, this wasn't what I was aiming for. My stories never end up how I planned them. It was supposed to be 'light hearted comedy' in which Cordy went and flaunted her new-found domestic bliss at Buffy, Spike found a girlfriend and everyone laughed at Buffy. Okay, maybe not -everyone-. But most of them.
Notes to reviewers:
Mrs O-Town: Hey! When are you going to update 'The Country Club Curse' and 'Mind/Body Co-ordination'?
No, that's about all I have to say. So 'note to reviewer'.
Babyshowers at the Hellmouth
Chapter 10
by Adele Elisabeth
Darla glared at Angel. "Without me, you can't find your precious little wife." She snarled. "You wouldn't dare stake me."
Buffy was filing her nails. Niamh quite purposely stood - stomped would be a better word - on her toes as she passed her. Calmly, the over 300 year young siren walked up and held the stake pointed directly at the blonde ('coughdyedcough') vampiress's heart, almost breaking the skin. "What say we kill you, call reinforcements, hunt down every vamp in Sunny-D and methodically check every place in this tiny little hell hole? What makes you think you're so indispensible?"
Darla flinched. Niamh meant business, and her tone stated it. The two women - for lack of a better word - had never gotten along.
Spike brightened. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Angel? It is your wife."
All eyes were on the ex-vampire.
"Darla has ten minutes to decide whether she's going to talk or not. If she doesn't, we kill her." He said it with clinical detatchment. "Niamh? Those reinforcements you mentioned? From where, exactly?"
"I'm owed a couple hundred favors."
"Get on it."
"Getting on it."
"Shit. This isn't a rescue operation. It's a fucking war!" Niamh burst out. Various 'creatures' had assembled in the cemetery, not particularly liking it, but were all here either because they owed Niamh, or owed someone who owed someone who owed someone who owed Niamh. Christ, that girl sure as hell got around.
Greeogh had recruited some buddies, too.
Spike ran a hand down her back, and put his chin on her shoulder. "Maybe."
"Right. Let's get at it." She nodded, and sighed.
Darla had chosen silence, convinced they were bluffing. She was staked without a second thought. The expression of pure surprise would not be easily forgotten.
Drusilla sat up, startled. "Something is happening." She whispered, excitement evident in her tone. "The stars whisper sweeetly, they do. Lose the queen and you lose the game. Black knights ride with the shining ones..."
Cordy struggled to wring coherent thought from Drusilla's words. "We're being rescued...?" The plural was automatic. She'd stopped thinking of Drusilla as an enemy, as a vampire. She was just another 'pretty bird in a gilded cage'. "Where is Darla - the old queen?" she queried.
"Away...away...floating on the breeze. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes." Drusilla replied, oh-so-serious.
"Darla's been staked? That either simplifies things, or complicates them." Cordy paced, one hand placed protectively on Bump, something that had become habitual. She paused. "Black knights ride with the shining ones? Who are the shining ones? And who, for that matter, are the black knights..." The questions weren't exactly addressed to Drusilla, they were more rhetorical.
"All's fair in love and war, but nothing is fair when war is fought for love." The dark-haired vampiress shrugged.
Cordy swore silently and wished that for once, Drusilla would stop talking in bloody riddles.
***
In the next chapter...stuff happens.