Loose ends.

Chapter 7


Xander Harris gasped hoarsely, “Holy schmoley Bleachboy, what has she done to you?”

Ignoring the question Spike asked anxiously, “Is everyone all right? Buffy… Dawn... They weren’t hurt were they?”

“They were all fine last time I saw them, Spike. Buffy wouldn’t let Dawnie come on the rescue mission so I know she’s perfectly safe, she stayed at home with Willow. I’m not sure what happened after I was nabbed though, Buffy Anya and Giles were still fighting. There were a lot of minions...” After a few seconds Xander quietly admitted, “Buffy tried to tell us you were in trouble, she was so upset she couldn’t stop crying and Giles had to give her a sedative. I’m sorry, I didn’t believe it. I honestly thought you’d team up with Miss Psychovamp and start trying to kill us all.” He took a deep breath, “I heard what you told her… and then I had to watch what she did with that… that… that…” He nodded to the foot of the stairs where Drusilla had dropped the blood-coated whip.

“Cat o’ nine tails.” Spike prompted.

Xander shuddered. “Whatever…” He continued, “Anyway… we’re never going to be best buddies. I pretty much think you’re a vampire, and as far as I’m concerned all vampires are just piles of dust waiting to happen. But it seems Buffy cares for you, and although it goes against everything I thought I knew, now I get that you really do appear to love her. As long as nothing happens to make me think otherwise, I’m going to try not to give you a hard time.”

“You were here for all that?” Spike asked wearily. “’Twas just Dru trying and failing to be as sadistic as her precious daddy.” His doubt was evident as he asked, “What makes this different from your ‘let’s try to get along together for Buffy’s sake’ effort in LA then? That one didn’t last very long.”

Looking a bit sheepish Xander confessed, “Well that was when she was only coming to you for comfort sex. I could just about handle that, and besides I expected her to dump your ass before long. It was the whole moving you in thing I hated. Then there was the Mating Claim, that’s what really creeped me out.”

Spike frowned, “And how exactly is any of that your business?”

The young man protested, “Buffy’s my friend, that makes it my business. I care about what happens to her. I only want what’s best for her!”

Spike shook his head in frustration. Sarcastically he retorted, “Oh I’m sorry, I must have missed the memo. When did Buffy give you the job of choosing what was best for her?” His voice rose angrily, “You don’t think that perhaps she should be allowed to make that choice for herself?”

Xander stammered, “But I only… It’s just…” and then his face briefly took on a rare thoughtfulness. “Choices…” he whispered as if to himself, “That’s what you were talking about in LA. Buffy should be able to make the big choices for herself.”

Ignoring his continuing muttering Spike took a few seconds to calm himself and summon up enough energy to continue. He then suggested, “Now then, let’s try to figure out a way to get us out of here so you can begin keeping that new resolution.” He turned to Nathan. “Have you any idea what’s got Dru so worked up? I know she wasn’t happy with me falling for the Slayer, but I thought she’d accepted that. What’s changed? She kept babbling on about not being able to feel me or some such nonsense.”

Nathan seemed surprised. “You mean you don’t know?” When he saw Spike glaring at him he cleared his throat nervously and hurriedly continued, “It’s the Sire Bond. When you took the Slayer as your Mate Drusilla suddenly couldn’t feel you in her Sire Bond any more. It seems that the Mating Claim cancels out any previous Bonds, even that of a Sire. As a result she would appear to be slightly… um… disorientated.”

Spike and Xander snorted in unison at the understatement. Spike muttered, “S’pose that’s one word for it.” Making an effort to concentrate he continued, “Right then… what on earth are we going to do now? How many minions are there left up there?”

Nathan explained, “As far as I know there are about twenty left undusted after the Slayer’s raid. Apart from them Drusilla has been waiting for a special one to wake up, although I think she’s intending her to be stronger than a mere minion. Big George was supposed to come back with another half-dozen or so last night but he never showed up.”

“If Big George was a bloody great hulking chap looking like a heavyweight weightlifter he’s not going to show up, nor are any of his new minions. Slayer and I took them out before we came across Dru in the cemetery.” Spike explained to the surprised vampire. “Any idea who the special one is?”

Nathan shook his head. “No, sorry. I just know she’s supposed to be for a specific purpose.”

Spike regarded Xander thoughtfully. “How are we going to get you out of here then whelp? It’ll be obvious If I don’t feed from you and then you’ll end up being shared out among twenty bleedin’ minions, and some of them won’t only be hungry for your blood.”

Xander made a disgusted face. “Eew, so not liking that image.” Hopefully he asked, “Can’t you just pretend to have bitten me and let me sneak out?”

Spike shook his head, “That won’t work. They’d need to be able to recognise my bite and my scent on you to stop them interfering. Even then they’d never let you out unless you appeared to be dead, or at least so weak it looked as if I’d nearly drained you…”

Nathan broke his fascinated silence, “Master Spike? If you could feed from him I might be able to stir the minions up to cause a distraction and get him past them as if I was just dumping the garbage. He’d have to be very convincing at playing dead though. It might work if I can get them to make enough noise to disguise his heartbeat and breathing."

Xander struggled to edge further away from the two vampires, “Oh no… no biting! There will be absolutely no biting of the Xanman by Spike!”

Completely ignoring him Spike asked, “Do you think you could get him to the Slayer’s house unseen?” An idea was forming in his mind and he thought it over briefly before realising it wouldn’t work. “Oh bugger…” Reluctantly, Spike reminded his fellow Aurelian, “I can’t bite him anyway, remember? This soddin’ chip…”

Nathan stepped up close to Spike and whispered, “I know the chip prevents you hurting humans, but if he were unconscious a bite wouldn’t hurt him would it? Do you think if I knocked him out you might be able to feed from him? That would make it easier to fool the minions too…”

Spike chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and whispered back, “Hmmm… I dunno… that might just work.” He looked over to where the terrified young man was huddled against the wall and spoke out loud. “Remember Harris, tell the Slayer there’s about twenty minions left and Nathan is helping us. Okay?” He then nodded to Nathan and as he crossed the floor back over to Xander Spike said, “Tell her I couldn’t think of any other way.”

Looking frantically between the two vampires Xander stammered, “Wha’? Wha’? Oh no… no!” As he desperately tried to resist, Nathan took a firm grip in his hair. Spike winced in sympathy as his head met the wall with a dull thud.

Nathan grabbed Xander’s limp body under the arms and dragged him across the room then tried to manoeuvre him into a vertical position to present his neck to Spike. “Not his neck, son.” Spike explained, “He’s an annoying little pillock but he doesn’t deserve to have a vampire’s mark clearly visible on him for all to see. Untie his hands and lift his arm, I’ll see if I can bite his wrist.”

A few minutes later Spike was having a monumental struggle with his demon. He had vamped out and teased the thin skin of Xander’s inner wrist with his rough tongue to stimulate the blood flow and bring the vein to the surface before tensing up in anticipation of blinding agony as he tried to bite. When his fangs slid easily into the soft flesh and only a slight twinge of pain materialised he relaxed and sucked. It wasn’t until he had his first taste of fresh warm blood that he realised just how very hungry he was.

The reminder of how delicious human blood straight from the source was while spiced with sweet fear prompted Spike to moan in rapture as he admitted to himself just how much he had missed this most fundamental of vampiric experiences. Surely Buffy would understand if he took just a bit more… and just a bit more again…

Buffy. She wouldn’t need to know would she? Would she? Spike sighed inwardly as he acknowledged that of course she would. If she didn’t realise straight away he would only go and tell her wouldn’t he? God he was pathetic. He reluctantly registered that he had counted the six slow deep pulls he had promised himself… and then his demon refused to withdraw.

He could feel Xander’s wholesome blood replacing what his Sire had drained and filling out his starved tissues, but he had been so dehydrated there still wasn’t enough available to begin healing the terrible wounds she had inflicted on his tortured body. His demon angrily demanded more. It insisted he should drain this weakened human and leave him dead and discarded and go and find another… and another… and another… until he was fully healed and back up to the peak of condition. Bloodlust such as he hadn’t experienced since that first night he had managed to get out of the hated wheelchair to hunt for himself threatened to overwhelm him.

Unable to stop drinking, but managing to take progressively smaller sips of blood as he continued to struggle to control his wilful demon, he pondered that he hadn’t had this trouble after Glory had tortured him, he hadn’t felt this terrible irresistible urge then. Then he realised that he had been feeding on pigs’ blood as he healed that time rather than human, and he could never work up a bloodlust for that disgusting muck.

Seeing in his mind’s eye Buffy’s beautiful wide-eyed face when she had come to him masquerading as the stupid bot, and feeling again that gentle innocent kiss of gratitude she had given him, made him realise how anguished she would be if any harm came to her friend. He recognised how horrified and disappointed she would be with him, and how it would destroy her to have to do her duty and stake her own Mate.

As he had this realisation his repentant demon relented of it’s own accord and his game face faded away. He gently lapped at the wounds his fangs had left to seal them closed and checked the strong steady heartbeat in front of him that hadn’t even begun to falter. Spike closed his eyes and let his head fall back against his arm in exhausted relief. “Get him outta here.” He whispered as sleep claimed him. “Get him to the Slayer.


******


Spike woke to the sound of several people coming down the stone stairs and the basement room suddenly appeared crowded. Drusilla walked up to him and gazed into his eyes as she wagged a finger in his face, her bright red talon just a fraction of an inch from his nose. “Be a good boy for mummy now my Spike, I’ve brought your new baby sister to see you.” She turned and reached out her arm to the tiny, rather dumpy woman with the short black hair in a slightly crumpled business suit who was standing beside Nathan. “This is my little Connie, Spike. Miss Edith told me she could help us… isn’t she sweet?”

Spike could feel the familiar tingle from the new vampire, so she wasn’t a mere minion then. His Sire had turned this woman into one of the family. “Consuelo.” Growled the new addition to the Aurelian Order with a petulant frown, “It’s Consuelo, not Connie.” She edged closer to Drusilla and gestured at Spike. “I can’t work with him up there. He’ll have to be on a table or something, and I’ll need a much better light than this.” She stepped a bit closer again and stared up at him with a puzzled frown. Under her breath she murmured, “That’s hostile seventeen… I’m sure it is…”

Spike’s mouth was suddenly so dry he had trouble speaking. Unable to tear his eyes from the tiny woman he asked, “So you’ve made this bird into one of us then Dru.” He croaked. “Why’s that then?”

Drusilla clapped her hands excitedly. “She’s such a clever baby girl, my Connie. She’s been playing with the toy soldiers and knows all about their tinkertoys. She’s going to make it so your Sunshine won’t want you any more, so you’ll be my darling deadly boy again. Then after we’ve got rid of Sunshine, you, me, my sweet Nathan and baby Connie will go and find daddy, and everything will be right at last. We’ll be a family again!”

Distracted from his contemplation of the thoughtful little woman who he was suddenly certain had been part of the Initiative, Spike shook his head sadly. “Oh Dru that’ll never happen, you do know that don’t you?” When the only response he received was a sulky pout he looked over Drusilla’s head at Nathan and received a lift of the eyebrows and an almost imperceptible nod, which he took to mean that he had been able to get Xander to safety. Heaving a mental sigh of relief he directed his attention back to his new ‘sister’ who under Drusilla’s indulgent supervision was instructing three hulking minions on how she wished Spike to be disposed.

When the chains above his head were loosened Spike found his arms flopping down to rest uselessly at his side for a few seconds until his legs gave way, and as he crumpled to the floor he realised with dismay just how weak he had become. As the minions manhandled him towards the stairs he couldn’t prevent himself from letting out a feeble whimper as agony flared throughout his entire body, and he gratefully sank into blackness again.


******


Spike opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into a bright light. He was aware he was lying flat on his back and could feel several vampires ranged around him, but he didn’t seem to be able to move to look around. He heard an impatient, “Tsk… Wait a minute, I’ll have to give him this now…” from behind him, then he felt a sharp prick at the base of his skull. He was becoming very anxious as he began to get a clear idea of what his Sire was intending. Before he could finish formulating the thought he drifted back into the darkness.

******


The lights were too bright.


The cool air was filled with the scent of fear… abject paralysing fear… and a medicinal smell. Pungent, antiseptic, clinical.


The cell was white, plain glaring white. Except for the glass wall. The glass wall that gave him painful shocks when he touched it.


A group of heavily armed soldiers marched past dragging a Kwaini demon, bound and chained. Didn’t they know she was a gentle, peaceful creature?


There were shrill screams coming from along the corridor… then suddenly they just cut off.


Too suddenly.


He was lying on a table. A cold steel table.


He was starving. Literally.


He lunged at the irresistible throbbing bare neck of the white-coated man standing beside the table… and found he was securely strapped down.


Helpless.


He was poked and prodded… and ignored when he protested.


They tormented him with crosses and Holy water.


They pierced his flesh with sharp objects made from various types of metal and wood.


They took samples of blood, skin and hair.


Futile rage burned in him.


His demon urged him to kill.


Kill them all.


It wanted him to feed on them until he was sated. Spill their blood and leave their mangled bodies as evidence of his power, of his fury.


It demanded he avenge himself on these puny humans who dared to think they could cage him, a Master Vampire of the ancient Order of Aurelius.


He was in the bare white cell again.


A bag of stale blood fell from the ceiling.


“I'm a rat. I'm a lab rat just like the others. They're gonna kill us you know.”


Blinding searing pain.


Terror.


Rage.


Helplessness.


******


Spike lurched awake gasping desperately for unneeded air. He looked around wildly, expecting to see bright white lights, hulking great men in uniform, sadistic white-coated scientists with surgical instruments… electronic gadgets… clipboards. He found he was lying in a bed rather than one of those bare white cells. Not the bed in his crypt though. Nor his Slayer’s bed. It took him several minutes to dispel the panic caused by his nightmare and thank the fates that he wasn’t back in the hands of the Initiative after all.

His relief was short-lived. He suddenly recognised that he was still in the old mansion. When he tried to sit up he found that on top of the injuries and blood loss he had already suffered at the hands of his Sire, he now also had a fierce stabbing pain in the top of his head. He was also still humiliatingly frail. His weak movements brought home to him that he was once again manacled… this time the chains were attached to the stone wall above the head of the bed. He sank back against the dusty pillows raging against his helplessness. Helpless again. He hated this feeling so much it burned. He clenched his jaw and a single mortifying tear of frustration trickled down his cheek.

He became aware that he had woken in game face and it took a considerable feat of concentration to change back to his human appearance. He knew instinctively that this meant his body was dangerously close to shutting down altogether from lack of blood. While his spine had been crushed Drusilla had frequently forgotten he needed to feed to heal. She could have hastened the healing process if only she had allowed him to feed from her, Sire’s blood was almost as good as Slayer’s blood as a curative. But no, she had never offered, and he had been too proud to ask. He was disappointed but not particularly surprised that she seemed to have forgotten again. On the whole he wasn’t too concerned about that though, he’d rather starve a bit longer until his Slayer came for him than be faced with the prospect of being presented with another living human to drink from.

He knew he was starving, and if as he suspected the chip was gone he hadn’t got a clue whether he would be able to control his demon in his present condition. He just hoped that Buffy would come for him before he had to find out. He knew she would be devastated and he would be dust if he was incapable of resisting the bloodlust. He resolved to stay quiet this time rather than attract unwanted attention.

He gave a slow contented smile when he realised that there wasn’t the slightest doubt in his mind that she would be coming for him. His golden Slayer would be glorious in her fury, performing her graceful ballet of death for him. Before the Mating Claim he would have been certain that she wouldn’t have come. It had been a revelation when she had rescued him from Glory, but he wasn’t under the delusion that on that occasion she had done so because she cared for him. Not any more. He had long ago admitted to himself that it had only been because she had thought he would give Dawn up to save himself. She had only decided to get him out undead to discover whether he had done so. As if he ever could have! He knew he had come very close to becoming dust that day.

After reliving her first genuine kiss for the ten thousandth time Spike lay quietly as he tried to gather his wits about him. He made an effort to detect Buffy’s mood and found her scared and anxious, but filled with a grim determination. As he was thinking of her he felt a sudden wave of hope go through her, and recognised that she had become aware of him. He smiled as he tried to send his love back to her, but wasn’t sure how much got through to her as he was so weak. As it was he couldn’t discern any change in her mood after his attempted sending.

He looked around again, this time taking in the details of the room he was in. At once saw that it was the same room in the staff quarters off the kitchen that he had occupied while restricted to the wheelchair during the period he was keeping his recovery secret. It meant that he was tucked well out of the way of the main reception area of the mansion and was at the far end of the building from the master bedroom that he knew Drusilla would be using, the one she had shared with Angelus. Now he knew he was unlikely to be disturbed by accident he dozed, trying to conserve what little strength he had.

When he was startled awake suddenly by the sense of a powerful vampire silently entering the room his demon surged to the surface in an attempt to intimidate the intruder with a fierce snarl.

“Oh good, you’re awake at last Master Spike.” Nathan whispered. “I’ve managed to sneak out and get some blood for you. Drusilla is preoccupied with Consuelo so I thought she might have forgotten you.” When Spike tried to protest Nathan assured him. “Don’t worry, I went to my butcher and got some pig and some cow.” He sounded very proud of himself when he declared, “I haven’t fed on a human since we met in Willy’s. You were right about animal blood being disgusting, but I spoke with the Slayer when I delivered the young man to her, and if she accepts me it will be worth it!”

Spike grinned to himself as his fangs pierced the first bag Nathan held for him. It sounded as if his Slayer had made yet another Aurelian conquest! It took only moments for the four bags the young vampire had brought to be drained. It wasn’t enough, but it was a good start. Spike shuddered at the unpleasant taste, wishing for a mug of hot chocolate to fill his mouth with its warmth and rich sweetness. He was still famished and he knew his injuries still weren’t healing very well. He could feel the deepest bites on his neck and hip begin to bleed slightly again as the new blood reached the wounds. He was confident however that the immediate danger of him going into a coma was now past.

He whispered, “You saw her then. Magnificent isn’t she? What did she say to you lad?”

Nathan looked totally awestruck. “She thanked me!” He breathed. “The Slayer called me by my name and she thanked me!” He continued in a slightly more subdued tone. “She didn’t invite me into her home of course, I didn’t expect her to. When she saw the young man was alive she looked as if she was going to cry for a second, then she got an older man to help her get him indoors and came back out to ask me about you. I told her everything I knew and she said to assure you they were coming for you.”

Spike smiled at him. “I never doubted it for a moment. Well done lad, you’ve made a good start. You’d better make yourself scarce now, we wouldn’t want her ladyship to start getting suspicious of you would we?”

After Nathan had slipped out of the room as silently as he had arrived Spike wondered what Buffy’s reaction would be when he told her that he thought the chip was gone. Mentally shrugging the thought away he decided it would be better to wait and see rather than speculate. He knew that if he began to think about it too deeply he would end up convincing himself she would stake him.

Of course having decided not to think about it, it was the only thing he could think about. He was fully aware that the only reason he had been even partially accepted as part of the Slayer’s team in the first place was the fact that he was physically incapable of harming humans. While this restriction no longer applied to Buffy they all knew she was more than capable of looking after herself, so they still considered that he posed no real threat. How would they treat him when they discovered he could hurt humans again if he chose to?

He wondered if any of them had ever considered that he had always been capable of hurting them, of killing them. He could have set fires, he could have administered poisons, and he could have employed other vampires or demons to attack them. He had done none of these things. He wasn’t like Angelus, it simply wasn’t his style. When he fought, he fought person to person, face to face. He wondered if it was because he had once been an English gentleman that he still had a sense of fair play, of honour. To him a fight was a personal challenge to see which was the better warrior. Fun too. Particularly when Slayers were involved.

The only exception to his personal rule had been when he had taken out the contract on the Slayer with the Order of Taraka. He had known she would have no trouble defending herself against any of the creatures they sent against her. It had never been a deliberate attempt to kill her, at the time he had still wanted that honour for himself. It had just been intended to distract her sufficiently to keep her out of the way while he dealt with Angel and the ritual to bring Drusilla back to full strength.

This memory brought him back to thinking about his Sire. Did she really think that taking the chip out would make his Slayer try to kill him and so force him to kill her first? If so she was sadly mistaken. He would rather put a stake in Buffy’s hand himself and then stand waiting for the fatal blow than harm her.

He began wondering if she would be able to do the deed herself or whether the Watcher would do it. Or would it be the whelp? He suspected that Harris had fantasised about staking him more than once. Now he had actually bitten the boy. He had fed from him, even though it had been to save the boy’s life. He had clearly demonstrated that even with the chip he wasn’t nearly as fangless as the Scoobies had assumed. He had no doubt whatever that the next time he came face to face with Xander Harris he would see a pointed wooden object in his hand.

Spike snorted when he realised he was doing exactly what he had resolved to avoid. He was thinking the worst. He was assuming that once it had been confirmed the chip was out he was going to be dusted. To distract himself he closed his eyes and deliberately cast his mind back to one of his favourite fantasies, that wondrous night in the building he and his Slayer had demolished between them. The no holds barred fight that had suddenly turned into a passionate primal coupling they had both enjoyed. As always he carefully edited out the memory of the following morning when he had opened his stupid mouth and with a few thoughtless ill considered words consigned the relationship to hell. Wearing a smug little smile he drifted off to sleep.

*****


Spike snarled as he opened his eyes. Whatever had made him think he was safe from intrusion tucked away in this back room? The place was turning into Piccadilly Circus! An anxious contralto voice begged, “Please be quiet, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“What are you soddin’ doing in here then ducks?” Spike asked wearily. “You’re new, so you don’t realise how painfully unpleasant it can get when you disobey Drusilla.”

“She’s asleep… and I just had to talk to you.” Consuelo explained. “First… I needed to check you were recovering all right.” Hesitantly she asked, “You are okay aren’t you? I’ve watched tapes of it but I’ve never really… um… I wasn’t sure I’d done it right…”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up in horror. “You went stirring around in my bleedin’ brain and you weren’t sure you were doing it right? Bloody Hell woman!”

“Well I daren’t tell her I couldn’t do it…” The nervous young vampire protested. “She killed agents Franklyn and Vaughn when they said they couldn’t… there was only me left and I didn’t want to die too.” She looked down at herself and laughed ironically. “Of course she still killed me… it just doesn’t seem to have taken.” She grinned over at Spike in delight. “It’s so amazing. They taught us that vampires are only animals, that they’re vicious murderous creatures that have no feelings. I want to go back and show them all just how wrong they were.” Her eyes flashed gold and she vamped out. “I want to make them take back everything they said… and I want to show them they were wrong about me too, that a woman can be just as good as a man.” She growled, “I want to show them with my fangs.”

Spike accused, “You’re Initiative!”

Consuelo calmed down and resumed her human visage as she stated with a confident smile, “And you’re Hostile seventeen. I’ve seen pictures and movie clips, but I never thought I’d ever meet you. You’re famous you know! You were the one that got away. I had to study all about you!”

Spike smirked proudly and drawled, “Is that right? Why’s that then?”

She explained, “The first sixteen vampires they implanted just kept attacking people and kept getting shocked. They didn’t last long when it became clear they couldn’t learn to change their behaviour. The chip was programmed to fire every time you attacked someone and they estimated a vampire would try to feed at least twice a day. It was designed to burn out after a specific number of shocks and they calculated that your brain should be totally fried after approximately six months. They heard recently that you were still active, that’s when they sent us in to observe you. Nobody could understand why you were still alive… or I guess I should say undead. You’re different from all the others. You adapted.”

Spike was stunned. “They’ve been observing me? For how long?”

“Oh we’ve only been here a couple of weeks. When we first arrived we were wondering if it was all a mistake, it took us ages to find you.” Consuelo assured him. “When we did I think Agent Franklyn sent in a report to HQ to say we’d had a positive sighting of you with Miss Summers. We were still only at the beginning of our investigation and had only just confirmed that you weren’t hunting humans at all when Drus….”

The bedroom door slammed open and Drusilla swept into the room. Angrily she hissed, “Naughty children, there shall be no talking after lights out. Miss Edith said you were whispering… whispering… whispering secrets to make the stars cry.” She glided across the room and grabbed Consuelo by the arm. Running a razor sharp fingernail down the young vampire’s cheek she scolded. “My baby Connie is being a bad, bad girl. Big brother has to do his homework before playtime. We’ll all have time to play when Sunshine is gone.” She began dragging a bleeding Consuelo back towards the door, only to come to a sudden halt half way there. She loosed her grip and fisted her hands in her hair, pulling clumps out by the roots. “No… no!” She wailed, “All going to ashes… my William is going to Sunshine and ashes… I can’t abide it… Miss Edith has lied to me… all lies… all lies…”

As Drusilla crumpled to the floor mumbling incoherently about Miss Edith lying, sunshine and ashes, Spike and Consuelo exchanged astonished looks. “Is she all right?” Consuelo asked nervously.

“In a century I’ve never once heard her say that Miss Edith lied.” Spike whispered in disbelief. “That bleedin’ doll has told her nothing but the truth all the time she’s had it!” He suddenly realised what he’d said and gave a weak chuckle. “Well… I know the bloody doll doesn’t talk but Dru often spoke as if it was the doll having the visions. She’s never had one that didn’t come true, even the times we couldn’t put the pieces together and work out what she was babbling on about until long after everything was over, it always happened exactly as she said.”

Drusilla abruptly surged back to her feet and flew across to the bed. Sobbing pitifully, she began raking Spike’s face and chest with her long scarlet fingernails. “She’s not going to take you from me, my pretty sweet Spike… I shan’t permit it… such a beautiful bad boy you were for me… just for me… my dashing dark knight.” Collapsing onto the bed at Spike’s side she moaned, “Why can’t I feel you?” As she continued to claw desperately at his flesh, her movements becoming increasingly frantic and uncoordinated, his blood turned the sheets and her pale yellow gown crimson.

“Dru pet,” He gasped, flinching as healing wounds were reopened and new ones were inflicted. “What’s got into you? You know Miss Edith’s never wrong!”

“Lies… all lies!” His Sire whimpered. “Never a family… never a beautiful dark knight for Princess… always a pale knight waiting for Sunshine and ashes...”

As a horrified Consuelo edged out of the room Spike was torn between trying to push Drusilla off him and trying to comfort her. He was beginning to feel light-headed as he struggled with his chains to grasp her hands in an attempt to stop her assault on his body.

All at once her manic movements stopped and she looked up and leaned over to gaze into Spike’s face. “Promise you’ll care for her as you cared for me?”

Stunned by the sudden clarity in her eyes Spike could only gasp, “I promise.”

Drusilla smiled wistfully and trailed her bloody fingers gently over his cheek and whispered, “My beautiful Spike.” The two vampires remained still, regarding each other seriously for a few moments, and then there was a loud crash somewhere in the building. Drusilla jumped at the sound and her moment of sanity was gone. She wailed, “She’s here… Sunshine and ashes…” Tearing her hands from Spike’s weak grasp she threw herself into the corner of the room and curled up into a tight ball, drawing her knees up under her chin and burying her face in her arms. She began rocking, muttering constantly under her breath, “All lies… all lies…”

Spike closed his eyes and lay back into the pillows as a single sad tear made its way slowly down his cheek, the fresh pain and blood loss draining his remaining strength. He began drifting off into oblivion as he listened to the sounds of battle drifting in from other parts of the mansion. His last thought as he lost consciousness was ‘She’s come for me…’

TBC

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


A/N: For the benefit of non-British readers: The phrase ‘like Piccadilly Circus’ is commonly used in the UK to refer to a place or situation which is extremely busy with people. It has been said that a person who stays long enough at Piccadilly Circus will eventually bump into everyone they know. In the United States it would be ‘like Grand Central Station’.


Another A/N: I hate the term ‘childe’ with a passion and refuse to use it. Joss never gave us an equivalent term to use, so I don’t bother with one at all. However, to make the situation in this fic clear for those who are accustomed to the term…

Nathan was turned by Darla to be a minion for the Master, but as he was to serve the Master personally she made him an unusually powerful minion, almost but not quite powerful enough to be a ‘childe’, which is why Spike recognises his ‘tingle’ as family. This means Nathan is independent enough to make his own way in the world, but he is weak enough to prefer the security of serving a Master Vampire, as has been his custom.

When Drusilla turned Consuelo she made her powerful enough to be her ‘childe’.