One-Shot, I recently saw the episode where Angelus kills Jenny and my muse kicked me violently with it's hobnailed boots. Therefore I had to write this. Enjoy. (P.S. should I write more of these?)
Disclaimer:…………this is where I have to say I don't own Spike or any other Joss Whedon creations right?…………..crap.
Killing Jenny.
He wanted every kill to be perfect. He enjoyed setting up a victim. Suspense and a sense of security was key. For it to be perfect, they had to have all sense of safety ripped from them like a piece of clothing. Tonight his preferred kill was one lovely brunette, liquid black eyes, slender willowy frame, and such a lovely name.
Jenny Calendar.
After Giles had left he'd gone about the school, starting with the inner doors and locked just enough of them to give her one rout of reasonable escape. And she was very reasonable.
He wanted the kill to be perfect.
She'd die within sight of the street, moonlight glowing off her dark hair and fair skin. Death would look so beautiful on her. If anyone was looking into the school's windows all they'd see would be a couple in a tight embrace. Deathly tight.
Locking all exits was easy, he told the guard he needed some books from his sister's locker, There was a big Chem. test tomorrow, You see? She needed the books to pass. And like the idiotic mortal that he was he let him in. Oh Gosh, thank you so much, my sister would be so disappointed if she failed this, chemistry was her favorite subject.
He didn't kill him, although inside his demon was itching to feed off the guard. He wanted to be hungry when he killed her, to make it just that more satisfying. It wouldn't do to give chase on a full stomach.
He glided silently to her classroom door. Soon her coffee cup would need refilling. She'd go to the teachers lounge, unaware of the special surprise in store for her tonight, fill her cup with coffee and cream, no sugar. He'd lock the door from the outside, but leave it open. When she closed the door, she'd be locking herself in. He just loved the irony in that. Locking yourself in a room with your killer. He smirked.
He went to the window and climbed the building like a cat chasing a bird. He sat in the tree outside the window and when she left for coffee, climbed in and sat in a desk hidden by shadow.
Eventually, the moon would rise and his hiding place would no longer be hidden. But that was the plan. Eventually she'd notice him, she'd run to the door, he'd throw her through it, she'd run. And eventually she'd Die.
He tingled in anticipation.
He felt like chuckling deep in his throat.
This was going to be so much fun.