Take It On The Other Side

Centuries are what it meant to me
A cemetery where I marry the sea
Stranger things could never change my mind
I've got to take it on the other side
Other Side - Red Hot Chilli Peppers

All I'm sayin' luv is that I'm not sure we can trust him..

Spike sighed and absently rubbed at one of his wheels as he stared at his lover. Drusilla, who had been sitting on the long oak table and pouting suddenly giggled at his last words.

He's a demon, Spike, can't trust demons...

But he's family.

Spike sighed, wishing sometimes that he could control those brief spurts of sanity the Dru seemed to get. The past few hours had been some of the most painful of his unlife, and being a demon and therefore drawn to pain he hadn't enjoyed it nearly as much as he should have. Dru on the other hand was in her element and it was only Spike's words of warning that had brought her down from a euphoric bubble. And that was the source of his pain. He had been well aware before Angelus had become soul-endowed that there was some Oedipus thing going on between him and Dru. The soul had been a curse to Angelus, but a blessing to Spike. Or the Vampire equivalent to a blessing. Because it allowed Dru to move on and love someone other than her insane Sire.

It had only been a few hours since Born-Again-Boy had walked back into their post-death lives and already he felt as distant from Dru as he had felt a hundred years ago.

Oh, poor Spike! I know what's wrong!

Spike glanced over at Dru sceptically, she was rarely aware of his feelings.

He's hungry!

Ah ha.

Don't worry, I'll bring you something to eat...

Spike sighed, but she was trying,

All right pet--

I can't wait to go hunting with Angelus again! she paused then said smoothly, Its been so long..

With his mind clear on the insinuation in Dru's last utterance he smartly turned the wheelchair around and glided to a slightly more dank-dark part of the mansion, leaving Dru to fall back onto the long table and stretch out her arms welcomingly to the ceiling.

***

Willow stretched and pulled at the hem of her dress which had ridden up to an uncomfortable hight. Xander, Cordelia and Giles had disappeared and she was the only person sitting at the Library's main table. The absence of Buffy was worrying her slightly, but only slightly. Buffy had a mom who actually cared where she was at 11pm at night, when she noticed, and so therefore Buffy might have been grounded or something. Besides, Buffy was the Slayer.

In front of Willow on the table were volumes and chronicles and none of them offered her the answer to the question of how to kill the latest big-nasty. The Judge, destroyer of the pure, no weapon forged, blah blah. She had thought of a million different ways that this Judge could be killed, but none of them really seemed probable. Especially the idea with gunk and wacky mallet. Even gunk was forged right?

Sometimes Willow's brain ran on when she was nervous, just like her mouth. It was one of those things that people called endearing, but also embarrassing and spazy.

she said quietly to herself, What's with leaving me alone to do the research? But being Willow and therefore accommodating and wanting to help' person, she shut the book she was holding and made her way up into the stacks to look for another.

Willow walked around the side of one bookcase and her eyes fixed on the two figures clutching at each other. Their lips were pressed together in a passionate kiss and they looked so different. Strange that two people that Willow had known for almost all of her life could look so different after a simple kiss.

Cordelia chuckled and pulled away from Xander's embrace. A second passed between them where they still stared at each other before their eyes instinctively darted to the voyeur. Willow was frozen watching them but their movement drew her out of the headlights and she had only one feeling. That she needed to get away. That somehow if she left and forgot then things would go back to how they were before. She ran.

***

The man stalked through the crowd of sexually charged teenagers. Stalked was the exact word for it, the only one better than that might have been prowled. Because he was a predator, not the conventional sort, but a wild animal tamed into human form so that it might hunt its prey better. Like a chameleon. Angelus wasn't really that hungry, he'd already killed two people and sucked them dryer than a road in August. But he enjoyed the death more than the sustenance.

But he was also trying to get her out of his mind. Her recent touch and kisses were only the beginning of the deep dirty feeling that he got from her. Not good dirty either. He had loved her, some part of him had loved that tiny girl and he still remembered it. That was worse than remembering the kisses and touches. It was more than that though, because he feared that that same part still did love her. He needed a good kill to get her out of his system. He'd kill her soon enough as well, but not yet. It was enough to know that she still thought he was her boyfriend when he'd said those things to her. Even the thought of it brought a less-than-sane smile to his face.

Angelus leaned against the far wall of the Bronze nonchalantly. He watched the throng of swaying bodies and tried to pick out his next victim. It did not take him long. A girl danced towards the outskirts of her group with no-one in particular. She was confident enough not to need a partner, but conscious enough not to take centre stage. She would be perfect.

He stood up and strode straight towards her. She didn't notice him at first, but when she did her eyes widened appreciatively. She was faux-blonde with brown eyes and a strappy little dress on, and her hips kept swaying to the beat of the song playing even if the rest of her body was motionless and suspended by the sight of him.

Can I have this dance? Angelus asked. He'd heard that line in a film once and had always wanted to use it, and of course pervert its use. Because unless he had fallen asleep way too early the girl accepting the dance had never been brutally killed afterwards. The girl had obviously seen the same film because she giggled at the corn-factor before nodding.

He pulled her to him as a slow song started, and inadvertently into the middle of the group of dancers. Her form was small and she fit into his violent embrace. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she lent her head against his chest as he wondered how he would kill her. Suddenly her touch seemed a little too familiar, her embrace a little too exciting and her looks...

The girl looked up expectant and confused as the handsome man she was dancing with pushed her away and out of his arms. He stared at her for a long moment, and in that time she noted how pale he was and how his chest ceased to rise and fall with breath. It would any moment, she convinced herself and waited as the song that had been swaying to continued. Any moment...

Angelus couldn't even begin to express all of the rage he was feeling. But he could start. Reaching out so calmly he slipped one hand around the back of the girls head and another to her chin as if he was about to trace the contours of her face with his fingers. She stared at him and just as he smelt the first waves of fear from her he jerked his hands one fatal movement and the girl dropped from his hands. Dead.

***

Cordelia lent up against the bookcase at her back. She was positively furious. She was angry because Xander had to comfort Willow, and because she could guess the things he was saying to her.

I just wanted to stick it to a popular girl' or It didn't mean anything' and worse of all She could never mean as much to me as you do.'

Yeah, that'd be what he was saying to her as he comforted her. His Willow.

She'd never meant to fall for stupid Xander Harris, but he was the only guy that she knew who wasn't afraid of being nasty to her. Way to come off like a masochist. But all of the guys she'd dated before had been so worried about smudging their trophy that they never saw who it was. Or they'd wanted to nail her.

Cordelia walked down from the stacks. She would most certainly not cry about Alexander Harris, or worry about what he was doing now.

...Even if there was screaming coming from that direction...