A/N: Guess what, people? I'm ill. Horribly, horribly ill. Last night I started getting these really bad pains in my knees when I was doing stuff (don't twist that, Silvermoon, you hentai!) like standing up or walking around. Woke up this morning and...still there. AND I had to 'prove' I wasn't just faking it by walking across the room. That is really hard when your knees won't bend properly without pain...sorry, enough of my ranting. Here's another chapter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer:I thought we'd been through this? I don't own Buffy. Unless you're Joss Whedon, you don't have a case to sue. If you are, what the hell are you doing here?! Get your butt working on the actual series, dammit!
Dedication: Silvermoon, Rainbow Dreamer and Lil'Smartass, a celebration upon the birth of our joint account (The Scoobs, go check it out!). **Breaks out champagne** Woohoo!
*************************************************************************************************
Laurel drifted through the rooms of the old mansion with an air of indifference, running the tips of her fingers along the dusty surfaces of tables and pictures, glancing around with slight scorn at the clear signs of long neglect. She passed in and out of all sorts of rooms: bedrooms, dining halls, bathrooms, studies. All the time she kept her thoughts firmly locked were they didn't show on her face and ignored the scurrying of the others.
Presently, she came to a set of heavy oaken doors to which she turned the large iron rings that were the handles and pushed them both open. The room inside was enormous, and filled with a wide array of plants and flowers, overgrown from lack of care.
She had barely taken five steps into the room when she heard the voice.
"Hey there, sis."
Only one person could ever be allowed to address her like that, and she turned with a smirk. "Hi Thomas. Good hunt?"
Thomas grinned at her from where he stood leaning against the doorframe. "It certainly was." His voice was smug, causing her to arch an eyebrow.
"Is there something you'd like to share, brother?"
If possible, his grin widened. "I ran into sombody."
"Who?" she asked eagerly, taking a step closer to him.
His voice was mysterious. "Take a guess. I don't think you'll get it right though."
"Oh really?" She cracked a smile, hands on hips. "Let's see, shall we? Hmm...Spike?"
He laughed. "No. Guess again?"
She shrugged. "I don't know...Drusilla?"
He frowned jokingly. "Nuh-uh. We both know she's in Spain."
"Who then? I give up."
Obviously pleased with himself, Thomas leaned forward and whispered just two words.
"The Slayer."
Laurel's blue eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" He nodded, and she laughed. "Oh! What's she like?"
He smirked, glancing upowards in concentration and recollection. "Well, I knew she was the Slayer because I could smell it on her. She has the look too. Just like that dear Lucrezia girl in Italy."
"1923." Laurel chirped, and they both chuckled. "Anything else?"
"Long dark hair. Big dark eyes. Slender. Quite a pretty little thing." Then Thomas's expression darkened and he straightened. "But there's something bad as well."
"What?" Laurel's tone and face were apprehensive. "What is it, Thomas?"
"I saw someone with her. Someone we both know, apart from Spike." He growled angrily. "Angelus."
"No!" Laurel's hand flew to her mouth. "Not...oh god...him too?"
Thomas nodded grimly. "Just like Dru said." Suddenly, he growled again and slammed his left fist hard into the stone wall. "Dammit! Everything's changed so much!"
Laurel sighed and moved to lay her hand on his left shoulder . "But not us."
He looked up, meeting her gaze, and then suddenly smiled, gripping the hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. Not us."
"And even if our Sire and Great-grandsire are traitorous pillocks," Laurel continued. "That blood didn't come down the line to us, did it?"
"No." Thomas seemed pretty much back to his usual self, before a sudden thought struck him, dousing his good humour. "Laurie..."
"What?"
"You don't think Dru was right, do you? That whole thing about Angelus changing and...I mean, we've been in Eastern Europe for so long we haven't heard any news of him in a while..."
"Thomas," Laurel sighed again. "Dru's batty, we all know that. She says one thing and means another. For her it's all about the stars and moon, the fairies singing to her, crap like that. She's not exactly reliable."
He nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Then he grinned at her. "You didn't come hunting."
Laurel shook her head. "You know I like to sort out a place to stay before I go out."
"Hungry?"
She lay a hand on her stomach, aware suddenly of just how empty it seemed. "Starving."
He took her wrist, a mischievious light in his eyes. "Got you a little something. Come see."
Laurel laughed as he pulled her from the garden and into the dining room before it. "What is-" Then she caught sight of what he meant. "It..."
The 'little something' was huddled by the table, whimpering as she scrabbled back, attempting to put as much distance between herself and the strangers, who she peered up at with wide, frightened eyes from under a sheet of golden hair.
Laurel's face immediately melted in sympathy and she pulled herself from her brother to approach the child, who looked no older than nine. She knelt a few feet away, ducking her head to look her in the eye.
"Shh." she soothed, and the girl choked out a sob of fear. "Shh, we're not going to hurt you. We want to help you. What's your name?"
The little girl's voice came out barely above a whisper, and the twins may well have missed it had they not had vampiric hearing.
"Charlotte."
Laurel's eyes widened, a movement which was slightly genuine, and she slowly moved a little closer to the child. "Really?" The child nodded.
"Your name is Charlotte?" A nod.
Laurel halted directly in front of the girl, then dropped her gaze and traced a pattern absently on the floor with her finger. "I knew a little girl called Charlotte once, a long time ago."
The blonde Charlotte felt some of her terror subside at the sight of this big girl kneeling there, voice so gentle and sad, face obscured by her long raven hair. "What happened to her?" she asked.
Unhurriedly, the older girl raised her head to look back at Charlotte, and a scream caught, gasping, in her throat. The teenager had shifted her face into a horrible countenance, with the low brow and yellow eyes and long fangs that belonged with those monsters from her nightmares, the monsters Mommy had told her didn't exist.
"Let me show you." the girl lisped around her fangs, then darted forward. Charlotte felt a burning pain searing the left side of her neck.
Mommy lied.
Laurel raised her head to grin at Thomas, face ghoulish through the unconcious child's blood. "Thanks. I needed that." She let the girl slump from her slackened grip as she stood, and she nudged the still body with her foot. "I'll get someone to take this back to the streets or something."
The twins exited in casual and companionable silence, when Laurel turned to Thomas and said, "So, tell me more about this Slayer..."
********************************************************************************
Ooh...did anyone guess it was Thomas who tried to chat up Gracia at the Bronze? **Grins** Over a century old and his pick-up lines still suck (excuse the pun).
So...review please...I'm off to start on the next chapter. Feel special people! :-D
Disclaimer:I thought we'd been through this? I don't own Buffy. Unless you're Joss Whedon, you don't have a case to sue. If you are, what the hell are you doing here?! Get your butt working on the actual series, dammit!
Dedication: Silvermoon, Rainbow Dreamer and Lil'Smartass, a celebration upon the birth of our joint account (The Scoobs, go check it out!). **Breaks out champagne** Woohoo!
*************************************************************************************************
Laurel drifted through the rooms of the old mansion with an air of indifference, running the tips of her fingers along the dusty surfaces of tables and pictures, glancing around with slight scorn at the clear signs of long neglect. She passed in and out of all sorts of rooms: bedrooms, dining halls, bathrooms, studies. All the time she kept her thoughts firmly locked were they didn't show on her face and ignored the scurrying of the others.
Presently, she came to a set of heavy oaken doors to which she turned the large iron rings that were the handles and pushed them both open. The room inside was enormous, and filled with a wide array of plants and flowers, overgrown from lack of care.
She had barely taken five steps into the room when she heard the voice.
"Hey there, sis."
Only one person could ever be allowed to address her like that, and she turned with a smirk. "Hi Thomas. Good hunt?"
Thomas grinned at her from where he stood leaning against the doorframe. "It certainly was." His voice was smug, causing her to arch an eyebrow.
"Is there something you'd like to share, brother?"
If possible, his grin widened. "I ran into sombody."
"Who?" she asked eagerly, taking a step closer to him.
His voice was mysterious. "Take a guess. I don't think you'll get it right though."
"Oh really?" She cracked a smile, hands on hips. "Let's see, shall we? Hmm...Spike?"
He laughed. "No. Guess again?"
She shrugged. "I don't know...Drusilla?"
He frowned jokingly. "Nuh-uh. We both know she's in Spain."
"Who then? I give up."
Obviously pleased with himself, Thomas leaned forward and whispered just two words.
"The Slayer."
Laurel's blue eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" He nodded, and she laughed. "Oh! What's she like?"
He smirked, glancing upowards in concentration and recollection. "Well, I knew she was the Slayer because I could smell it on her. She has the look too. Just like that dear Lucrezia girl in Italy."
"1923." Laurel chirped, and they both chuckled. "Anything else?"
"Long dark hair. Big dark eyes. Slender. Quite a pretty little thing." Then Thomas's expression darkened and he straightened. "But there's something bad as well."
"What?" Laurel's tone and face were apprehensive. "What is it, Thomas?"
"I saw someone with her. Someone we both know, apart from Spike." He growled angrily. "Angelus."
"No!" Laurel's hand flew to her mouth. "Not...oh god...him too?"
Thomas nodded grimly. "Just like Dru said." Suddenly, he growled again and slammed his left fist hard into the stone wall. "Dammit! Everything's changed so much!"
Laurel sighed and moved to lay her hand on his left shoulder . "But not us."
He looked up, meeting her gaze, and then suddenly smiled, gripping the hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. Not us."
"And even if our Sire and Great-grandsire are traitorous pillocks," Laurel continued. "That blood didn't come down the line to us, did it?"
"No." Thomas seemed pretty much back to his usual self, before a sudden thought struck him, dousing his good humour. "Laurie..."
"What?"
"You don't think Dru was right, do you? That whole thing about Angelus changing and...I mean, we've been in Eastern Europe for so long we haven't heard any news of him in a while..."
"Thomas," Laurel sighed again. "Dru's batty, we all know that. She says one thing and means another. For her it's all about the stars and moon, the fairies singing to her, crap like that. She's not exactly reliable."
He nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Then he grinned at her. "You didn't come hunting."
Laurel shook her head. "You know I like to sort out a place to stay before I go out."
"Hungry?"
She lay a hand on her stomach, aware suddenly of just how empty it seemed. "Starving."
He took her wrist, a mischievious light in his eyes. "Got you a little something. Come see."
Laurel laughed as he pulled her from the garden and into the dining room before it. "What is-" Then she caught sight of what he meant. "It..."
The 'little something' was huddled by the table, whimpering as she scrabbled back, attempting to put as much distance between herself and the strangers, who she peered up at with wide, frightened eyes from under a sheet of golden hair.
Laurel's face immediately melted in sympathy and she pulled herself from her brother to approach the child, who looked no older than nine. She knelt a few feet away, ducking her head to look her in the eye.
"Shh." she soothed, and the girl choked out a sob of fear. "Shh, we're not going to hurt you. We want to help you. What's your name?"
The little girl's voice came out barely above a whisper, and the twins may well have missed it had they not had vampiric hearing.
"Charlotte."
Laurel's eyes widened, a movement which was slightly genuine, and she slowly moved a little closer to the child. "Really?" The child nodded.
"Your name is Charlotte?" A nod.
Laurel halted directly in front of the girl, then dropped her gaze and traced a pattern absently on the floor with her finger. "I knew a little girl called Charlotte once, a long time ago."
The blonde Charlotte felt some of her terror subside at the sight of this big girl kneeling there, voice so gentle and sad, face obscured by her long raven hair. "What happened to her?" she asked.
Unhurriedly, the older girl raised her head to look back at Charlotte, and a scream caught, gasping, in her throat. The teenager had shifted her face into a horrible countenance, with the low brow and yellow eyes and long fangs that belonged with those monsters from her nightmares, the monsters Mommy had told her didn't exist.
"Let me show you." the girl lisped around her fangs, then darted forward. Charlotte felt a burning pain searing the left side of her neck.
Mommy lied.
Laurel raised her head to grin at Thomas, face ghoulish through the unconcious child's blood. "Thanks. I needed that." She let the girl slump from her slackened grip as she stood, and she nudged the still body with her foot. "I'll get someone to take this back to the streets or something."
The twins exited in casual and companionable silence, when Laurel turned to Thomas and said, "So, tell me more about this Slayer..."
********************************************************************************
Ooh...did anyone guess it was Thomas who tried to chat up Gracia at the Bronze? **Grins** Over a century old and his pick-up lines still suck (excuse the pun).
So...review please...I'm off to start on the next chapter. Feel special people! :-D