t'is the Season!

Season Two:

“Bloody Hell!” Spike exclaimed, as he manoeuvred his wheelchair past the Christmas tree that blocked the entrance. The room was a mess… Apart from the Christmas trees (at least half a dozen), there were lights and ornaments everywhere. The soundsystem was playing a horrible chorus of children singing the most awful Christmas songs in existence at a volume that could wake the dead. And in a way, it had, Spike mused.

His princess was dancing in the middle of it, twirling around, knocking ornaments out of trees and stepping on the fragile glass uncaring. They broke into tiny slivers of glass that sparkled in the glow of the numerous Christmas lights that decorated the room. In a funny way, they kinda resembled snow. 

A grim smile made its way onto Spike’s face as he wheeled himself towards the stereosystem and turned the volume down to a whisper. Drusilla looked up, her concentration broken by the loss of her music. Her eyes narrowed as she saw him, and she grabbed Miss Edith from the bed before approaching him.

“Dru, love…” He began, but she cut him off quickly.
“Hush!” she huffed “You’ve upset Miss Edith, naughty boy!” 

She held the blindfolded puppet up for him to see. “Can’t you hear the children crying?” 

“There are no children here love.” Spike sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to play along with Drusilla’s madness, but apparently, today was the wrong day to mess with Dru. She pouted and let herself slide onto Spike’s lap. 

Miss Edith was soon forgotten and dropped to the floor, as Drusilla started running her hands through Spike’s ungelled locks. She lowered her head to whisper in his ear, lips brushing past it as she told him how naughty he was to spoil her Christmas. He sighed and closed his eyes as the whispering migrated southwards and became a slow, teasing, licking motion on the side of his neck, right over her old bitemark. He stroked her velvet covered back as he tilted his head to the side to give her better access.

His eyes flew open as he felt her fangs break his skin none too gently, taking big gulps of his blood. He tried to pry her off but she clung to him as she continued to drink. He couldn’t afford to let her feed from him, he needed all his strength to heal his injured spine, and Angelus fed him precious little blood. A growl escaped him as he struggled to get rid of her.

“Dru!” His vision was already greying around the edges. What was she doing?! Spike felt himself growing weaker and weaker, until he was on the verge of blacking out. Then, as if she had sensed it, Drusilla let go of his neck, giving it one last teasing lick as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Spike didn’t protest as she manhandled him out of his clothes, and pulled a red ribbon free from her hair, which he recognised as the ribbon he’d given her in Prague a year ago.

“There, naughty boy! No milk and cookies for you!” 

She tied the red ribbon around his neck and stood back to admire her handiwork. A smile appeared on her face, and she ruffled his hair a little bit more for effect. Then, she grabbed his unmoving legs and dragged him from the wheelchair. 

A groan escaped Spike as his head impacted with the floor. The world was spinning around him, black spots dancing in front of his eyes, it was difficult to move. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what Dru was planning. She was dragging him towards one of the trees, right through the shattered ornaments, and he could feel the shards of thin glass embed themselves in the skin of his back.

Drusilla carefully positioned Spike’s naked form underneath one of the Christmas trees, and once again stood back to admire her work. She clapped her hands in glee and turned the music up again, before she ran off in search of Angelus. 

“Daddy will be so pleased with his present!”