Old Times

Old Times #9

It had always been such a special day for them. Ruined now; maybe forever…

Still bursting with gratitude at Dru’s patience, and certain his body was mending, Spike had sent out his most aesthetic minion - which after the demise of Dalton wasn’t saying a great deal - to steal a few necklaces, with a clear description of what he wanted. Spike was happy with the choice he was able to make, so happy infact that he allowed the wiry little fellow to keep those he rejected.

He knew she would love it, it was just her kind of thing! He couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips as she opened the case, her eyes twinkling at the gold and rubies.

“Fancy it, pet?” Knowing that she did.

But then there had been Angelus, swaggering in, setting down a heart on the table, a human heart by the size; fresh and bloody. The scent of it had filled their nostrils, Drusilla gasping her pleasure as she traced her fingers over the slippery offal.

Spike had felt the rage mounting inside, directed not just at Angelus, but at his feckless woman too, but there had been worse to come. Pity access? Had she been talking to Angelus about him, about his unresponsive body? Had he maybe heard them in bed yesterday?

Angry, confused, hurt, he'd controlled his voice as best he could, taunted Angelus with the only weapon to hand. Buffy, and Angelus’ inability to deal with her.

“Don't worry, Spike” Drusilla’s voice had been sing-song, flirty, cutting across their bickering. Speaking to him but gazing at Angelus. “Angel always knows... what speaks to a girl's heart.”

She didn’t love him, she didn’t want him, she pitied him. He had lost his strength, his power, his woman, his everything. He was nothing. And that git was hovering around, watching, waiting, taking it all as and when he felt like it…

‘Angel always knows…’

Spike shivered. No! He just bloody well thought he did, and about everything. But really, he didn’t have a fucking clue!

And he’d prove it.

+++

Still feeling painfully betrayed, he could barely look at her. And as for that wretched puppy! Goddamnit, he would strangle both it and her!

But instead he answered her entreaties to dine in a brusque, clipped tone. “I won't have you feeding me like a child, Dru.” Wheeling himself away from her and the wriggling pup... And almost colliding with Angelus.

He was ready for Angelus’ jibes now; predictable, boring. Yes, she did bathe him; but hell, it was an intimate and enjoyable act!

Although still vulnerable to the little bolts of jealousy that shot through him every time Dru paid any mind to Angelus, he was not going to rise to this, to them, no matter what they said and did. Not now.

Oh yes, he’d make all the right noises. Neither of them would suspect. And the anger and feelings of betrayal would be lurking inside still, ready to be released when the time was right. But for now, he had other priorities, another game to play. And if he were honest with himself, he would enjoy it.

“…if there's anything I can do for you... Any...” Angelus paused in his baiting, leaning in to Spike “…responsibility I can assume while you're spinning your wheels...” Glancing at Dru with lascivious appreciation. “Anything I'm not already doing, that is.”

Angelus’ giggles set his teeth on edge but still he ground them together. He would not endure existing like this! Not for anything…

Drusilla made “There there” noises and bent down to Spike, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, and the puppy in his lap.

“You two boys... fightin' over me and all.” Dru trilled. “Makes a girl feel...” Halting abruptly, she groaned loudly, seemingly in pain. One of her visions? Presentiments?

+++

Far from a vision of foreboding, Dru had declared Buffy ripe for the picking, and Angelus had raced off to do the plucking. Spike was amused. The mighty Angelus really understood nothing when it came down to it, not even himself. His grandsire had always thought Spike was the impetuous one, impatient and stupid… Well, he had to admit, patience had never been his strongest suit. Before now.

But he hadn’t gotten himself cursed with a soul, had he? He had held on to his woman for a century, despite everything – the power Angelus seemed to have over her, the lure of the Immortal. Angelus, however, had let his women and his reputation slip through his fingers.

And Spike had bagged himself a couple of slayers… Well, okay, fair enough, Angel had bedded one. Wonder what that'd be like…

Spike’s train of thought was broken as Angelus stormed back into the factory. Another failure then? With Dru out on the prowl, this might just be the time…

“She uninvited me! The bitch locked me out of her frigging house!” Angelus railed.

“The course of true lust never did run smooth, mate” Spike grinned. “Another one gone, huh?” He counted them off on his fingers. “Buffy, Darla, Drusilla…”

“Don’t go there Spike, you won’t live to regret it!”

“You know” Spike feigned thoughtfulness. “It’s almost like…” He deliberately let his words trail off, glancing up at Angelus from beneath lowered lids.

“Like what?” Angelus barked at him, pacing furiously back and forth in front of his chair.

“Like maybe there's someone… Someone else always there. In the back of your mind. Someone you want more. Someone you…”

Angelus paused in front of him, frowning. But silent.

“Someone you just can’t shake the taste for…”