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TITLE: Fragile

AUTHOR: Leather

DISCLAIMER: Joss owns all, I just play with it.

ARCHIVING: Yes, please take. Just tell me where first, ok?

PAIRINGS: Spike/Drusilla

SUMMARY: Spike reflects on his relationship with Drusilla. Spike/Dru

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Companion piece to "Consumed". Enjoy! Can be read as stand alone story.

--Leather--

Xena@compuage.com

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I don't know what it is about her. Something doesn't let me forget. I can't. I remember the night she turned me, after that silly


bird Cecily denied me and said I was "beneath her". Like she was one fig better than me. Yeah, sure. Maybe in her own


delusional world, she was.


I showed her though. I remember the delight I felt when I killed her. Cecily was my first kill as a vampire. Drusilla in her own


way was the one who convinced me I should kill her. I was thinking about it before hand, anyways. But it was Cecily who made


and shaped me, who formed my own destiny. I hated her for it.


It was her who denied me, said I was beneath her. So I ran out of that place, and met Drusilla. My sire. The one I loved with a


vivid deep passion. One who consumed me...like fire, burning brightly. My wicked dark plum.


Now she's laying on the bed, after a beating from Angelus. I see that soft little smile on those succulent lips of hers, and wonder


what she could possibly be smiling about. My hands are running down her body. She sighs to herself, muttering some non sense


about hands that love so well.


I wonder what she sees.


Sometimes, I don't think Dru sees me at all. Sometimes I think I am taken for granted, and I am just there. I want her to love


me, to need me, like I do her. I love her so much.


I worry that at times, she just sees me as a gap to fill while Angelus plays with Darla. I know that she still loves him, that bastard


who made her the way she was. Shaped her destiny, molded her the way Cecily molded my own.


Maybe Dru would feel better if she killed Angelus.


If I so much as suggested that, she would go into one of her mad fits. I don't want that, so I never say it. Sometimes I think it,


even when I see approval of something good I'd done in his eyes. Like when I killed Cecily. He was proud. He didn't admit it


because the bitch was there, but he was. You could tell.


I can still see her surprise you know. Cecily's. When she learned what I was, and what was going to happen to her. I chuckle


darkly, even as my hands continue to comfortingly stroke Dru. She purrs in her sleep, her mad eyes closed. Her dark hair


spread across her milky white shoulders.


There is nothing as fragile as Drusilla. Though, at the end Cecily was fragile. I could feel it. Her eyes pleaded with me to be


gentle, let her go quickly. But no. Death was to be slow for her. As slow as the death I died at her cruel words.


I was fragile.


But no more.

END