Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm just borrowing them.
The car that pulled over to pick up Spike and Anya was a smaller foreign car. Spike had the nagging feeling that he should have recognized the make, but he couldn't quite name it.
The driver was a man, about twenty-five years old, Spike estimated. He wore a long-sleeved parka and a red baseball cap. He leaned out and opened the passenger-side door.
"Hey, where ya headed?" He asked.
"Cleveland." Said Anya with a giggle. "But east. Are you going east?"
"Sure, hop in!" Said the driver.
Spike could hear the driver's heartbeat in his ears as he slid into the car, and for a second considered the ramifications of that.
Neither of them had a soul, and neither of them had a chip in their head. There was nothing to stop them from taking a quick snack...
Nothing but the remembered knowledge that it was wrong.
And what was a demon that a human wasn't? Greedy? Selfish? Evil? Did they lack in free will? Of course not.
If mankind was steeped in original sin, then demon-kind was steeped in something much worse, Spike decided. But he certainly wasn't bound by his past, or anything else.
"Shouldn't pick up strange hitch-hikers." Said Spike reproachfully, getting into the back seat as Anya slid into the front.
Spike sniffed the air cautiously. He could faintly smell blood, and it brought up the bloodlust in him.
"Oh," chuckled the kid, "I'm not too worried. What have I got to lose, eh?" The last was asked in a bored, cynical tone that Spike generally associated the terminally ill and the terminally boring.
Anya shrugged. "You'd be surprised." She said, then was silent.
Spike wondered what the Scoobies would make of this. Two un-souled vampires, sitting in a car with a almost-willing victim. They'd probably take a very dim view on it. He found it a bit funny. But not too funny; Anya was still a fledgling. She had no experience controlling the bloodlust.
Spike shook his head. What would the Scoobies make of this, anyway? Their dead would come back to them as vampires. Granted, that had happened before.
But this time their dead would come back to them as vampires who wanted to do good. Yech. There was no such thing. Vampires were things, with no moral compasses.
And Spike was back, sans soul.
Wouldn't that just eat everybody up? Wouldn't that just destroy Buffy?
Spike thought about it for a second, and slouched lower in the seat. Buffy had finally accepted him enough to lie to him, but he had no idea how this was going to fit into their relationship.
He'd said it was over, but he knew it wasn't. As long as the very thought of Buffy brought life to his dead heart, he couldn't stay away from her.
Spike shifted uncomfortably in the seat, wishing he had the duster that had stood him in good stead though evilness and goodness. The duster that had burned up in the Hellmouth when he'd burned up.
And if they were going to give him a new body, why not a new duster? It was unfair, that's what it was.
He'd complain, if he knew who to complain to.
Or something.
He concentrated on Anya, who was very much in stalk mode. He put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the mindless yabbering she and the driver were indulging in. It was a bit annoying, really.
". . .California?"
"It's terrific! Good weather, not many bunnies. . . hm, bunnies, yum." Said Anya, licking her lips. "Now there's a thought, Spike? A little bunny revenge?"
Well, that was interesting. It turned out that an evil, vampire Anya finally had what it took to hate and destroy...bunnies. "Don't even think it." He replied. Evil had to be quashed wherever it rose its head—and he was pretty sure some of the Scoobies (well, Willow) would classify bunny- killing as evil.
And they weren't evil. Nuh-uh. Second chances.
Or something.
"Anyway," Anya blathered on as if he hadn't spoken. He let her, letting out a long sigh and considering his options. "we were in all sorts of adventures, and had lots of fun." She wrapped up their deaths with that inconsequential spot of sunshine, and Spike wondered how long it would take her tongue to grow back in if he tore it out.
"Sounds great." Said the human.
"It was terrifying." Confided Anya. Spike wanted to tune her out, very badly. But the danger to the Happy Meal, er, the Human, was too great. He had to be alert. If they fed from a human, even once, ever, after they came back from the dead, they would never be able to trust each other, the Scoobies would never be able to trust them. They would have broken faith.
On the other hand, the greaseball looked so very appetizing.
Spike forced his own bloodlust back down. He'd had centuries to deal with it, and he could handle it. He could drink pig's blood and not go mad. He could do this. Even without chips or souls, he could do everything. He could be human.
His stomach rumbled, and he considered the greaseball. It wouldn't really be so bad, would it? The kid was suicidal. . .if they didn't feed off him, his blood would just go to waste. It wasn't like the kid had family worrying about him.
Spike leaned closer, smelling the kid, and stopped cold. The faint scent of blood was what was sending him over the edge, he realized, and before he could think about his actions he leaned forward over the seat and grabbed the kid.
"Hey!" Said the kid, as Spike grabbed his wrist, tearing it off the steering wheel, while wrapping his other arm around Anya's neck to hold her back. The greaseball yelped, but let Spike have his arm. Spike pulled the sleeve back, revealing fresh bandages around the wrist.
"You little freak!" Snapped Spike, settling back. Anya licked her lips. "Cutting yourself! You've been cutting yourself!"
"I-I don't, I don't," stammered the kid.
"What do you know about life?" Demanded Spike. "I've seen life, and it's beautiful!" He let himself shift into gameface, and Anya eagerly followed. The human squealed, stopping the car. "You're going to throw away all the beauty of life? Why!? Oh, over a girl, of course. Girl won't have you, and you're just done. You're over. You're dead. Can't you see how beautiful this is?!" Spike gestured around him. "This life, this life you take for granted and treat so cheap, can't you see how beautiful it is?!"
Spike growled, leaning forward and opening Anya's door. She growled, and he pushed her out the door, following through his own.
"Get out of here." Whispered Spike, leaning into the car and fixing the kids eyes with his glowing amber eyes. "Don't pick up any more hitchhikers, and don't you dare ever cut yourself again."
The kid nodded eagerly and sped off.
Anya stared after him for a long minute, then hit Spike. "Ow!" He snapped, rubbing his arm. "Watch it!"
"There goes our ride!" She yelled. "Now how're we gonna get to a city before sunrise?"
"Uh. . ." Spike glanced back into the distance. "Here comes another car." He said, shifting back to human face. Anya reluctantly followed suit. "This time, I sit up front." He said. He thought about it for a second, images of her lurching over the back seat in his mind. "Um, no, that won't work. . . "
"For pity's sake, stop it!" Growled Anya. "I won't bite him if you won't! Do you think you're the only one here who understands redemption and the pitifully unforgiving workings of human minds? Now let's go!"
She stuck her thumb out, and Spike sighed, covering his eyes. "Oh, bother."
--
Drusilla considered the man in front of her, crossing her arms. "You're crossing the stars and my Dark Warrior and Miss Edith." She informed him crossly.
"Uh..." The hapless shopkeeper stared at her. "We also have this nice Orb of Thesula—it makes a great paperweight!"
Drusilla tapped her long fingernails against the outsides of her arms. "Miss Edith asked for a nice toy, an amulet of Drakker. It'll bring our daddy back again, and we will rise."
"Umm..." The shopkeeper shrugged. "I don't have anything like that."
"The blood all over the world screams for it." Said Drusilla.
"I'm, uh, sure it does." Said the shopkeeper.
Drusilla grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air. His eyes widened. "Your blood cries out for it."
"I can try e-Bay!" He offered with a gasp.
She set him down. "It'll bring all our family back together again, as it should be." She preened. "And all the blood in the world will wash away the taste of ashes in my mouth."
The car that pulled over to pick up Spike and Anya was a smaller foreign car. Spike had the nagging feeling that he should have recognized the make, but he couldn't quite name it.
The driver was a man, about twenty-five years old, Spike estimated. He wore a long-sleeved parka and a red baseball cap. He leaned out and opened the passenger-side door.
"Hey, where ya headed?" He asked.
"Cleveland." Said Anya with a giggle. "But east. Are you going east?"
"Sure, hop in!" Said the driver.
Spike could hear the driver's heartbeat in his ears as he slid into the car, and for a second considered the ramifications of that.
Neither of them had a soul, and neither of them had a chip in their head. There was nothing to stop them from taking a quick snack...
Nothing but the remembered knowledge that it was wrong.
And what was a demon that a human wasn't? Greedy? Selfish? Evil? Did they lack in free will? Of course not.
If mankind was steeped in original sin, then demon-kind was steeped in something much worse, Spike decided. But he certainly wasn't bound by his past, or anything else.
"Shouldn't pick up strange hitch-hikers." Said Spike reproachfully, getting into the back seat as Anya slid into the front.
Spike sniffed the air cautiously. He could faintly smell blood, and it brought up the bloodlust in him.
"Oh," chuckled the kid, "I'm not too worried. What have I got to lose, eh?" The last was asked in a bored, cynical tone that Spike generally associated the terminally ill and the terminally boring.
Anya shrugged. "You'd be surprised." She said, then was silent.
Spike wondered what the Scoobies would make of this. Two un-souled vampires, sitting in a car with a almost-willing victim. They'd probably take a very dim view on it. He found it a bit funny. But not too funny; Anya was still a fledgling. She had no experience controlling the bloodlust.
Spike shook his head. What would the Scoobies make of this, anyway? Their dead would come back to them as vampires. Granted, that had happened before.
But this time their dead would come back to them as vampires who wanted to do good. Yech. There was no such thing. Vampires were things, with no moral compasses.
And Spike was back, sans soul.
Wouldn't that just eat everybody up? Wouldn't that just destroy Buffy?
Spike thought about it for a second, and slouched lower in the seat. Buffy had finally accepted him enough to lie to him, but he had no idea how this was going to fit into their relationship.
He'd said it was over, but he knew it wasn't. As long as the very thought of Buffy brought life to his dead heart, he couldn't stay away from her.
Spike shifted uncomfortably in the seat, wishing he had the duster that had stood him in good stead though evilness and goodness. The duster that had burned up in the Hellmouth when he'd burned up.
And if they were going to give him a new body, why not a new duster? It was unfair, that's what it was.
He'd complain, if he knew who to complain to.
Or something.
He concentrated on Anya, who was very much in stalk mode. He put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the mindless yabbering she and the driver were indulging in. It was a bit annoying, really.
". . .California?"
"It's terrific! Good weather, not many bunnies. . . hm, bunnies, yum." Said Anya, licking her lips. "Now there's a thought, Spike? A little bunny revenge?"
Well, that was interesting. It turned out that an evil, vampire Anya finally had what it took to hate and destroy...bunnies. "Don't even think it." He replied. Evil had to be quashed wherever it rose its head—and he was pretty sure some of the Scoobies (well, Willow) would classify bunny- killing as evil.
And they weren't evil. Nuh-uh. Second chances.
Or something.
"Anyway," Anya blathered on as if he hadn't spoken. He let her, letting out a long sigh and considering his options. "we were in all sorts of adventures, and had lots of fun." She wrapped up their deaths with that inconsequential spot of sunshine, and Spike wondered how long it would take her tongue to grow back in if he tore it out.
"Sounds great." Said the human.
"It was terrifying." Confided Anya. Spike wanted to tune her out, very badly. But the danger to the Happy Meal, er, the Human, was too great. He had to be alert. If they fed from a human, even once, ever, after they came back from the dead, they would never be able to trust each other, the Scoobies would never be able to trust them. They would have broken faith.
On the other hand, the greaseball looked so very appetizing.
Spike forced his own bloodlust back down. He'd had centuries to deal with it, and he could handle it. He could drink pig's blood and not go mad. He could do this. Even without chips or souls, he could do everything. He could be human.
His stomach rumbled, and he considered the greaseball. It wouldn't really be so bad, would it? The kid was suicidal. . .if they didn't feed off him, his blood would just go to waste. It wasn't like the kid had family worrying about him.
Spike leaned closer, smelling the kid, and stopped cold. The faint scent of blood was what was sending him over the edge, he realized, and before he could think about his actions he leaned forward over the seat and grabbed the kid.
"Hey!" Said the kid, as Spike grabbed his wrist, tearing it off the steering wheel, while wrapping his other arm around Anya's neck to hold her back. The greaseball yelped, but let Spike have his arm. Spike pulled the sleeve back, revealing fresh bandages around the wrist.
"You little freak!" Snapped Spike, settling back. Anya licked her lips. "Cutting yourself! You've been cutting yourself!"
"I-I don't, I don't," stammered the kid.
"What do you know about life?" Demanded Spike. "I've seen life, and it's beautiful!" He let himself shift into gameface, and Anya eagerly followed. The human squealed, stopping the car. "You're going to throw away all the beauty of life? Why!? Oh, over a girl, of course. Girl won't have you, and you're just done. You're over. You're dead. Can't you see how beautiful this is?!" Spike gestured around him. "This life, this life you take for granted and treat so cheap, can't you see how beautiful it is?!"
Spike growled, leaning forward and opening Anya's door. She growled, and he pushed her out the door, following through his own.
"Get out of here." Whispered Spike, leaning into the car and fixing the kids eyes with his glowing amber eyes. "Don't pick up any more hitchhikers, and don't you dare ever cut yourself again."
The kid nodded eagerly and sped off.
Anya stared after him for a long minute, then hit Spike. "Ow!" He snapped, rubbing his arm. "Watch it!"
"There goes our ride!" She yelled. "Now how're we gonna get to a city before sunrise?"
"Uh. . ." Spike glanced back into the distance. "Here comes another car." He said, shifting back to human face. Anya reluctantly followed suit. "This time, I sit up front." He said. He thought about it for a second, images of her lurching over the back seat in his mind. "Um, no, that won't work. . . "
"For pity's sake, stop it!" Growled Anya. "I won't bite him if you won't! Do you think you're the only one here who understands redemption and the pitifully unforgiving workings of human minds? Now let's go!"
She stuck her thumb out, and Spike sighed, covering his eyes. "Oh, bother."
--
Drusilla considered the man in front of her, crossing her arms. "You're crossing the stars and my Dark Warrior and Miss Edith." She informed him crossly.
"Uh..." The hapless shopkeeper stared at her. "We also have this nice Orb of Thesula—it makes a great paperweight!"
Drusilla tapped her long fingernails against the outsides of her arms. "Miss Edith asked for a nice toy, an amulet of Drakker. It'll bring our daddy back again, and we will rise."
"Umm..." The shopkeeper shrugged. "I don't have anything like that."
"The blood all over the world screams for it." Said Drusilla.
"I'm, uh, sure it does." Said the shopkeeper.
Drusilla grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air. His eyes widened. "Your blood cries out for it."
"I can try e-Bay!" He offered with a gasp.
She set him down. "It'll bring all our family back together again, as it should be." She preened. "And all the blood in the world will wash away the taste of ashes in my mouth."