Turning the Tables
Chapter 9
Disclaimer: I may not own it, but I love it. Does that count for anything?
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NEXT EVENING
Drusilla stood in the middle of the front room of the mansion. Her dress hung around her waist, torso bare. She smiled with pure joy and anticipation. Her body was perfectly still…like a statue of a saint. Soon to become a martyr Angelus thought wryly as he gripped one of the throwing knives off the end table. He ran it under his nose, enjoying the scents of metal and death mingling into one tantalizing aroma. Then he turned with inhuman speed and flung the knife at her. It hit it's mark, wedged directly between her breasts. Her body shuddered slightly, but her expression didn't change. She knew this was how Angelus liked to play.
He continued to fling them, one by one, each hitting it's mark perfectly, till five were buried in Drusilla's undead flesh. The handles, beautifully crafted and decorated with silver carvings stayed shiny and clean; even while dark blood was pouring out around them, pooling at the floor. She allowed herself a whimper of pain and thrill but still did not move. Angelus would come when he was ready…he would come to her.
The front door swung noisily open, some of the art on the walls fell with clatters of various volumes. Angelus swung around, throwing the last knife as he turned, completing the pattern: a grotesque 'A', shaped by knife handles, marked by gushes of blood.
"Spike!" He exclaimed, sounding for all the world like he was greeting an old friend he had not seen in years, "Dru and I were just thinking of you!" Spike glanced at his former lover and was overcome momentarily with a wave of revulsion. Soulless and evil or not, even in at the pinnacle of the damage Darla and her children inflicted on the world, Spike had not had the stomach for some of Angelus' more "creative" ideas. Some things were just sick…even for a vampire.
"You know, funny thing about Dru. She's had a vision, and guess who's got a title role? But the funny part is…she doesn't seem to want to tell me about it. And you know me," he laughed harshly, "I don't like women to refuse me anything. But even after all that torture…she still wouldn't tell me anything. Just that you were being a bad boy. Now then, son, since you're here…enlighten me."
"Don't know a thing." Spike said, a little too quickly. Angelus smiled lazily.
"Of course you don't, Spike my boy. And I suppose you haven't got a clue about the Slayer."
"Slayer? Dark hair, 'bout yea tall, name of Faith, if I'm not mistaken. What, the bird after you?"
"Not her," his sire growled, teeth clenched, "The other Slayer. Buffy the Slayer."
"Oh, thaat Slayer," Spike drawled, nodding his understanding, "Don't know a thing."
"Somehow," Angelus took a menacing step forward, "I doubt that."
"S' the truth, the whole truth, and nothin' but the truth. So help me God," Spike lay a mocking hand over his still heart.
"God's not gonna be helping you now…" Angelus stalked closer to him, muscles taut. Spike swallowed hard.
"Ehh, know what? Now that I think about it, I might have heard a thing or two about Buffy." Angelus stopped and smiled. It was just too easy bullying this one.
"Really? What kind of things?"
"Like…well…it's kind of
difficult to explain," Spike admitted.
"Difficult how?"
"Difficult like how it's gonna be difficult to pry my foot out of your ass once I'm done with you." Spike looked up in surprise and Angelus whirled around to see Buffy, standing next to the still bleeding Drusilla, looking sexy and very tasty. She was holding some kind of wand thing that was giving off a very bad smell. Some kind of new-age stake he supposed.
"Buffy…I haven't seen you around lately," he began to make a circle on the floor, Buffy mirrored him and they faced each other dangerously. Angelus was checking the air for the scent of Slayer. Nothing. It smelled almost…no, it wasn't possible.
"You smell different, lover," he told her, squinting suspiciously at her. She shrugged, waving her wand/stake/thing around when she did.
"I bought a new perfume." Angelus was still glaring when he heard a rustling from behind one of the heavy curtains. He was over there after only a few seconds and ripped it back to see one of Buffy's annoying little friends, the red-head. She was muttering something under her breath.
"Don't bother praying sweetie, God isn't listening," he grinned, but when she continued murmuring his smile faded, "What are you saying?" She looked up at him and returned his grin. It was so similar to his own it was frightening; definitely not the grin of a nerdy little high school girl.
"Este scris, aceasta putere este dreptul poporuil meu de a conduce…Asa sa fie! Acum!" That sounded uncomfortably familiar. A rush of wind blew up behind him, but no one else seemed to notice it. Spike slowly brought his hands out from behind his back. He was holding a lovely crystal orb…the center of which was glowing warm gold.
"No…no…no!!!" Angelus bellowed into the night as the gold light shot into his own body.
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PREVIOUS MORNING
Willow pored over the computer screen. They had snuck into the below ground section of the community library…the computer room. Spike stood behind her, twitching every now and then, clearly very uncomfortable. Computers and that bloody techie junk made him nervous. But it was the only spot they could go during the day…it wasn't like he had electricity at the crypt, so stealing a computer wouldn't have helped them any. After what seemed like an eternity, and he knew what eternity felt like, Willow turned back to him.
"I've got it."
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PRESENT TIME
"Daddy?!" Dru shrieked, flying to the side of her own sire, who was now kneeling on the floor, doubled over with his hands covering his head. She howled horribly, and when Spike hurried over and pulled her off of Angel she clawed at him, hissing and spitting like an angry cat.
"Dru…Dru," he held her back and tenderly removed the knives. Buffy and Willow looked on, not particularly pleased with the affection he was showing. Drusilla's body shuddered and she went limp in Spike's arms. He hoisted her up to face him, pulling her dress back up and holding her shoulders.
"Drusilla, I love you, so I'm going to give you this…get out of here, Dru. There's no reason for you to stay, if you do, we'll kill you." His eyes showed her, even through her rage and madness, that he was completely serious. He would kill her if she stayed. Backing away slowly and fastening the buttons on her gown, Drusilla tutted quietly.
"Willy, Willy, my sweet Willy…right cruel…cruel and black with swirling smoke…" She then turned and raced away into the night, stab wounds barely slowing her down. Spike sighed heavily and collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. Both Buffy and Willow hurried over to him and smothered him with kisses, trying to keep his mind off Drusilla.
"It's alright, I'm alright. Don't bother about me…lets see where Peaches keeps his chains."
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Not the most exciting chapter, but I needed it to continue the story.