Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Rating: R Warning: Rape
AN: Sorry for the long wait; school's been hectic this week, and I've had no time for anything. Please review!
Memories From Dust
Chapter Six: Tea Parties and Angelus
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Was it a day later? I had completely lost track of time. Spike had gone off to 'make something scream' and left me locked in the room. As obnoxious as it was, the room was spacious, and besides, it was far better than being tied to the bed.
At loss of anything better to do, I stood in front of the mirror, my back to the door, and brushed my hair. Pulling the brush through my strait, honey brown hair, I heard someone fiddling with the doorknob.
I didn't turn around, but watched in the mirror's reflection as the lock was struggled with for a few seconds, before the knob turned and the door opened.
But there was no one there.
I whipped around, finding myself staring at Drusilla.
Looked back into the mirror, and saw nothing but the open door.
Turned again to Drusilla, who was carefully pinning a hair clip into her smooth black curls.
"Mirror won't show me myself," Dru said sadly. "Bad girls must be hidden, hidden far away where they can't be seen."
Her eyes clouded over, and for a second I thought she was going to cry. Then, suddenly, she snapped out of it, a smile spreading across her face. "I'm having a tea party! You must come, for you've been invited, and we're ever so excited to have a new friend."
She grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the hallway. She was wearing a white silk dress (she could have at least worn the dress she took from me, I thought somewhat bitterly) that clung to all the right places, accentuating her curves before falling to the floor and ending with a train that dragged elegantly across the floor. Her long black hair flowing down her back, Drusilla looked like the flawless model of a woman.
But she acted nothing like it.
"Sing a song of sixpence," She sang the rhyme I had heard countless times when I was younger. "A pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie, When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing, Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?"
"The king was in his counting house, counting out his money." I replied, amazed that I still remembered the words.
"The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey."
"The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes."
"Along came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!" Drusilla finished, clapping her hands together excitedly. "You'll make a good friend, for certain."
She led me into another room, where an array of porcelain dolls had been set up around a table.
"Be polite to Miss Edith." She instructed in a whisper, before turning to one of the dolls.
I was introduced, and soon we were seated at the table as Drusilla poured a thick, red liquid from the china teapot into everyone's cups. I didn't drink any of my "tea," but merely listened to Drusilla chatter away.
After she had been at it for some time, the door opened and Spike came in.
"Hello there, princess." He greeted; at first I thought he was talking to me, but it was Drusilla who squealed and jumped into to his arms.
"I see you're entertaining." He commented, and (much to my relief) drained my teacup. "Delicious." He complimented her. She kissed him, a kiss that (as I jealously watched on) lasted for a fair amount of time.
"You taste good too." Drusilla informed him.
He lifted her up so that her legs were hooked around his waste, and proceeded to kiss her yet again. She pulled away, placing a sharp, painted fingernail against his lips. "Not in front of everyone!"
Spike growled, shoving Miss Edith under the table to spare her innocent dolly eyes, before turning to me. "You, out."
I didn't move, partly because I didn't like seeing him and Drusilla like that, and partly because of the fact that he hadn't even bothered to mention my name.
"OUT!" He growled, grabbing me by the back of my shirt and pushing me out, slamming the door on the sound of 'princess' giggling.
I was so angry that I didn't keep sense of where my feet were taking me; I soon found myself lost in the massive house. Not that I cared, I figured I would simply throw open every door until I found myself in the one I wanted.
Spike had seemed so sweet mere hours ago; and then he didn't even bother to glance my way . . . I was so caught up in my anger that I almost didn't notice the vampire who was leaning casually against the corridor wall, watching me approach.
Almost didn't notice him, but simply seeing the large figure of Angelus blocking my way through the narrow corridor was enough to vaporize my anger.
It may have been the fact that he looked quite capable of killing me without breaking a sweat, or the way his dark eyes watched every move I made, or maybe it was just the way he stood, in a constant, predatorial stance; something about Angelus sent shivers down my spine as the unwanted fear rose up and clung to every bit of me.
"He hasn't killed you yet?" Angelus remarked dryly as if he was simply talking about the weather, striding towards me and looking me up and down.
"Guess not." I said, forcing a bright smile on my face. "I should hate to bother you, I'll be going now." I said, hurriedly turning away.
Now, if you wanted to get my attention, you would probably call out my name, grab my wrist, something like that. Angelus, however, shoved me against the wall.
"William is a bit different than me." He said, pinning me against the wall in such a way that my back dug into it most painfully. "Now, I like to keep things for awhile, play with them a bit; see what they like, find what they hate." He ran a cold finger over my face. "But William, he has none of that subtlety, he likes to do things and get them over with. Which is why I'm curious as to why you're still here."
"Guess I'm just lucky." I said with a nervous laugh, wishing he'd get his hands, which were now at my waist, off me.
He laughed, and I wondered if maybe he'd decide that Spike kept me around only because I was so bloody hilarious. But alas, no such luck. "Not sure I'd call you lucky." Angelus replied, pulling me forcefully into the closest room.
He could've at least chosen a bedroom, I thought as he threw me to the floor of what appeared to a dressing room: there was a row of closets along one wall, a vast mirror stretching from the floor to the ceiling on anther, with an elaborate make up table standing across the room from it.
I pulled myself off the floor, stumbling as I backed away from him. The vampire looked nothing more than annoyed.
"Get over here, you idiotic girl."
"No! Don't even think of touching me."
"Or you'll do what, scream?" He asked with a grin. "I would love it if you'd scream."
I had backed into the makeup table; trying to find something I could hurt him with I grasped a tube of lipstick, and wishing it was anything else, threw it at him.
He didn't even flinch when it hit him, bending down to pick up the tube of lipstick, he eyes never leaving me.
I turned, just for a second, to see if there was anything on the table I could use as a weapon, but in that one second he grabbed me and threw me once again to the ground, this time straddling me before I could scramble away.
Expertly pinning me to the ground with his legs, he uncapped the tube of lipstick. He held my head in place with one hand, and with the other he applied the red makeup to my lips.
"Give me a kiss."
I spit in his face.
Not an intelligent move on my part, as within seconds his hands were around my throat, blocking the oxygen from getting to my lungs.
"If you'd like to breathe again, lassie," He told me with a smirk. "You'd best give me a kiss."
Already feeling a bit faint from the air loss, I pressed my lips against his until he released his grip on my throat and the sweet, cool air rushed into my lungs.
As I caught my breath, he moved a hand up my leg.
"Get . . . off . . . me." I said, struggling under his weight.
He slapped me, hard; I'm certain my cheek must have been red for a record amount of time. "None of that." He told me harshly. "You're a whore, just do what you always do."
"You haven't paid me." I glared at him as he pushed up my skirt. "And I have the right to refuse service to anyone."
He leaned in close to me, his mouth against my ear. "Seeing as I can break your neck with one snap, I'd advise that you shut your mouth and do as your told."
It was no idle threat, and so I turned my head away as he let himself into me, my eyes widening as I glanced at the mirror.
I was there, lying on the floor with a rather red face, but I couldn't see Angelus. I could feel him (how couldn't I?) but there was no trace of him in the mirror. Feeling rather queasy, I turned my head to the other side and stared at the yellow floral decorations bordering the bottom of the wall until he was finished.
He pulled himself out, wearing a grin I wanted to slap off his face, although I wasn't stupid enough to try to do so. "Not bad, not bad at all." He commented merrily. "Still, I doubt you'll last the night."
And with that sweet farewell, he left.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Rating: R Warning: Rape
AN: Sorry for the long wait; school's been hectic this week, and I've had no time for anything. Please review!
Memories From Dust
Chapter Six: Tea Parties and Angelus
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Was it a day later? I had completely lost track of time. Spike had gone off to 'make something scream' and left me locked in the room. As obnoxious as it was, the room was spacious, and besides, it was far better than being tied to the bed.
At loss of anything better to do, I stood in front of the mirror, my back to the door, and brushed my hair. Pulling the brush through my strait, honey brown hair, I heard someone fiddling with the doorknob.
I didn't turn around, but watched in the mirror's reflection as the lock was struggled with for a few seconds, before the knob turned and the door opened.
But there was no one there.
I whipped around, finding myself staring at Drusilla.
Looked back into the mirror, and saw nothing but the open door.
Turned again to Drusilla, who was carefully pinning a hair clip into her smooth black curls.
"Mirror won't show me myself," Dru said sadly. "Bad girls must be hidden, hidden far away where they can't be seen."
Her eyes clouded over, and for a second I thought she was going to cry. Then, suddenly, she snapped out of it, a smile spreading across her face. "I'm having a tea party! You must come, for you've been invited, and we're ever so excited to have a new friend."
She grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the hallway. She was wearing a white silk dress (she could have at least worn the dress she took from me, I thought somewhat bitterly) that clung to all the right places, accentuating her curves before falling to the floor and ending with a train that dragged elegantly across the floor. Her long black hair flowing down her back, Drusilla looked like the flawless model of a woman.
But she acted nothing like it.
"Sing a song of sixpence," She sang the rhyme I had heard countless times when I was younger. "A pocket full of rye, Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie, When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing, Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?"
"The king was in his counting house, counting out his money." I replied, amazed that I still remembered the words.
"The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey."
"The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes."
"Along came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!" Drusilla finished, clapping her hands together excitedly. "You'll make a good friend, for certain."
She led me into another room, where an array of porcelain dolls had been set up around a table.
"Be polite to Miss Edith." She instructed in a whisper, before turning to one of the dolls.
I was introduced, and soon we were seated at the table as Drusilla poured a thick, red liquid from the china teapot into everyone's cups. I didn't drink any of my "tea," but merely listened to Drusilla chatter away.
After she had been at it for some time, the door opened and Spike came in.
"Hello there, princess." He greeted; at first I thought he was talking to me, but it was Drusilla who squealed and jumped into to his arms.
"I see you're entertaining." He commented, and (much to my relief) drained my teacup. "Delicious." He complimented her. She kissed him, a kiss that (as I jealously watched on) lasted for a fair amount of time.
"You taste good too." Drusilla informed him.
He lifted her up so that her legs were hooked around his waste, and proceeded to kiss her yet again. She pulled away, placing a sharp, painted fingernail against his lips. "Not in front of everyone!"
Spike growled, shoving Miss Edith under the table to spare her innocent dolly eyes, before turning to me. "You, out."
I didn't move, partly because I didn't like seeing him and Drusilla like that, and partly because of the fact that he hadn't even bothered to mention my name.
"OUT!" He growled, grabbing me by the back of my shirt and pushing me out, slamming the door on the sound of 'princess' giggling.
I was so angry that I didn't keep sense of where my feet were taking me; I soon found myself lost in the massive house. Not that I cared, I figured I would simply throw open every door until I found myself in the one I wanted.
Spike had seemed so sweet mere hours ago; and then he didn't even bother to glance my way . . . I was so caught up in my anger that I almost didn't notice the vampire who was leaning casually against the corridor wall, watching me approach.
Almost didn't notice him, but simply seeing the large figure of Angelus blocking my way through the narrow corridor was enough to vaporize my anger.
It may have been the fact that he looked quite capable of killing me without breaking a sweat, or the way his dark eyes watched every move I made, or maybe it was just the way he stood, in a constant, predatorial stance; something about Angelus sent shivers down my spine as the unwanted fear rose up and clung to every bit of me.
"He hasn't killed you yet?" Angelus remarked dryly as if he was simply talking about the weather, striding towards me and looking me up and down.
"Guess not." I said, forcing a bright smile on my face. "I should hate to bother you, I'll be going now." I said, hurriedly turning away.
Now, if you wanted to get my attention, you would probably call out my name, grab my wrist, something like that. Angelus, however, shoved me against the wall.
"William is a bit different than me." He said, pinning me against the wall in such a way that my back dug into it most painfully. "Now, I like to keep things for awhile, play with them a bit; see what they like, find what they hate." He ran a cold finger over my face. "But William, he has none of that subtlety, he likes to do things and get them over with. Which is why I'm curious as to why you're still here."
"Guess I'm just lucky." I said with a nervous laugh, wishing he'd get his hands, which were now at my waist, off me.
He laughed, and I wondered if maybe he'd decide that Spike kept me around only because I was so bloody hilarious. But alas, no such luck. "Not sure I'd call you lucky." Angelus replied, pulling me forcefully into the closest room.
He could've at least chosen a bedroom, I thought as he threw me to the floor of what appeared to a dressing room: there was a row of closets along one wall, a vast mirror stretching from the floor to the ceiling on anther, with an elaborate make up table standing across the room from it.
I pulled myself off the floor, stumbling as I backed away from him. The vampire looked nothing more than annoyed.
"Get over here, you idiotic girl."
"No! Don't even think of touching me."
"Or you'll do what, scream?" He asked with a grin. "I would love it if you'd scream."
I had backed into the makeup table; trying to find something I could hurt him with I grasped a tube of lipstick, and wishing it was anything else, threw it at him.
He didn't even flinch when it hit him, bending down to pick up the tube of lipstick, he eyes never leaving me.
I turned, just for a second, to see if there was anything on the table I could use as a weapon, but in that one second he grabbed me and threw me once again to the ground, this time straddling me before I could scramble away.
Expertly pinning me to the ground with his legs, he uncapped the tube of lipstick. He held my head in place with one hand, and with the other he applied the red makeup to my lips.
"Give me a kiss."
I spit in his face.
Not an intelligent move on my part, as within seconds his hands were around my throat, blocking the oxygen from getting to my lungs.
"If you'd like to breathe again, lassie," He told me with a smirk. "You'd best give me a kiss."
Already feeling a bit faint from the air loss, I pressed my lips against his until he released his grip on my throat and the sweet, cool air rushed into my lungs.
As I caught my breath, he moved a hand up my leg.
"Get . . . off . . . me." I said, struggling under his weight.
He slapped me, hard; I'm certain my cheek must have been red for a record amount of time. "None of that." He told me harshly. "You're a whore, just do what you always do."
"You haven't paid me." I glared at him as he pushed up my skirt. "And I have the right to refuse service to anyone."
He leaned in close to me, his mouth against my ear. "Seeing as I can break your neck with one snap, I'd advise that you shut your mouth and do as your told."
It was no idle threat, and so I turned my head away as he let himself into me, my eyes widening as I glanced at the mirror.
I was there, lying on the floor with a rather red face, but I couldn't see Angelus. I could feel him (how couldn't I?) but there was no trace of him in the mirror. Feeling rather queasy, I turned my head to the other side and stared at the yellow floral decorations bordering the bottom of the wall until he was finished.
He pulled himself out, wearing a grin I wanted to slap off his face, although I wasn't stupid enough to try to do so. "Not bad, not bad at all." He commented merrily. "Still, I doubt you'll last the night."
And with that sweet farewell, he left.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =