Spike: Hope I Die Before I Get Old By Kuzibah

Part 13 of the Summer Vacation Series Disclaimer: Spike is so not mine, but damn, is he a lot of fun to write. Author�s Note: Follows immediately after �The Hunting of the Snark,� wherein through an ancient vampiric pact thingy Spike asks Angel for help and Angel gives it. Also, a few bad words. Sorry, Spike swears. I can�t help that. Archive- Sure, but email me and let me know where it�s going. Feedback- Absolutely. ******************* Spike had the speedometer on the 1968 Chrysler Imperial he had hotwired pegged at 85 as he screamed north towards Sunnydale. It was four hours until dawn. Should be plenty of time, but if not, the trunk should contain him easily. He had stolen the car shortly after Angel had dropped him off outside city limits. �Stay out of my town, Spike,� Angel had snarled. �I may have a soul, but I still have my demon, too. I�ll set it loose if I have to.� No, it really hadn�t happened that way. �You were always my favorite,� Angelus had said fondly, touching the younger vampire�s shoulder. �So perfectly cruel and depraved. The finest of my children.� No, it hadn�t happened that way, either. �What am I supposed to do now?� Spike said. �I don�t really care,� Angel answered. �Just do it someplace far away.� And then he had driven off. A bit of an anticlimax to the past few days, in Spike�s opinion. Trust Angelus to remember Sire�s Privilege, he thought. Soul or no soul, he was still the same sadistic bastard. No, not really, Spike corrected himself. The old Angelus would have taken much greater advantage of his progeny�s helpless state. Spike turned over his meeting with his sire in his mind, looking for a useful detail with which to torment the slayer the next time she had him at a disadvantage. Poor thing, so utterly predictable. Even with soldier-boy wrapped around her finger, the mere mention of tall, dark, and stupid was enough to reduce her to jello. Love. Feh. It was the devil�s own invention, that was certain. When he�d left Dru there�d been none of that mooning and suffering, not by him, anyway. He�d just thrown her over and moved on to that blonde, what�s-her-name. No blood, no tears. That was the way he�d always been. No, that was a lie. Self-delusion. He had been with Dru all of his unlife, over a century, up until two years ago. And she had left him, just left, without even a backward glance. It had been the most devastating experience of his life. No, don�t think about it. Don�t think about her. Ungrateful bitch. After all he�d done for her. Should have let them kill her in Prague. Or let the slayer get her. All he�d ever wanted was to make her happy, from the first moment he�d laid eyes on her. Even before she�d killed him. - - - - - - - - - - �There,� Dick said, thumping Will on the shoulder and pointing towards the man stepping out of the carriage. He was well-dressed, and he carried himself like an aristocrat. �What�s he doing down here,� Will sneered. �Gambling, most like,� Dick replied, �or whoring.� �Or both,� Will suggested. The man reached up into the carriage and helped down another, a woman, her face shadowed in the hood of her cloak. Dick and Will exchanged glances, revising their previous assessment. �Charity workers?� Dick suggested doubtfully. Will shrugged. The woman took the man�s arm and they started walking, watching and studying the crowd around them. �They�re looking for something,� Will said warily. �Trouble of some kind.� �Well let�s see they find it,� Dick said, and the two pickpockets merged into the crowd, moving naturally towards the couple. �Do-gooders,� Dick muttered. �Wonder if they�ll even have much cash.� Will grabbed his partner�s arm and steered him towards an alleyway. �They spotted us,� he said. �Trust me, they�re no do-gooders. The one�s got murder in his eye.� �You�re daft,� Dick said, but Will had always been spookily observant, and Dick trusted his companion�s eyes more than his own. In this case, Will was dead-on again. As they slipped into the alley, Dick saw the woman�s arm, slim, bare, and very pale, extend from beneath her cloak to point at them. Dick was now the one hurrying the other. The two young men broke into a run, suddenly and inexplicably frightened. Will heard what sounded like footsteps, but impossibly fast, then he and Dick were hit by something large and powerful. Will managed to stay on his feet, but he heard his partner cry out and fall to the ground. Will spun around, stumbling, when something heavy slammed into his chest and pushed him, nearly carried him, in fact, across the alley and up against the far wall. He fought against the dark shape, though it pinned him there like a mounted insect, but he was helpless against the thing�s strength. As his own frightened strength gave out, he realized he was no longer being attacked, only held by two slim, white hands. Will grew still and searched the darkness with his senses. Slowly he became aware it was the woman who was holding him, holding him as easily as any woman might hold a length of cloth to observe its pattern. Still, he could not see her face under her hood, though her eyes glowed like two coals. Dick, if he lived, though Will doubted it, remained silent. The only sound he heard was a soft, almost delicate sucking. �Pretty, pretty boy,� the woman said to him. �Beautiful little pet.� Her voice was gentle, even musical, and Will felt his fear soothed by its tone. He relaxed in her grip, and when she set him back on his feet he swooned, nearly falling into her arms. She drew back her hood, allowing Will to see her face clearly at last. He didn�t believe he had ever seen a more perfectly beautiful creature. She stared deep into his eyes, her own eyes wide and dark and deeper than the bottom of the ocean. Will felt himself falling, helpless. �Drusilla,� said a man�s voice chidingly, and it came to Will�s ear as though from very far away. �What have I told you about playing with your food?� �Oh, hush, Angelus,� the woman said. �Is he not beautiful?� And she touched a long, cool finger to Will�s cheek. �Yes, he�s beautiful,� the man agreed impatiently. �Now finish him and let�s go.� Will tried to turn his head, to see the man who was speaking, but he seemed to have no volition of his own. This woman, Drusilla, this fabulous vision, this fairy queen, held him spellbound, enchanted, his eyes staring straight into hers. �I want him,� Drusilla said petulantly. �It would be such a waste to leave him here. Let him come home and be my pet.� Again she touched Will�s cheek. �Please, Drusilla,� Angelus said, his tone condescending. �You�ll grow tired of him and then what will happen? Remember what happened to your kitten?� She turned her head to look at Angelus, and the spell she held Will under broke. The young thief felt his heart drop and his legs go weak with fear. What were these creatures? What was happening? "I want him," Drusilla insisted. Angelus took her arm and shook her roughly. "I can't believe you're such an idiot!" he snarled, and, in spite of his fear, Will felt a flush of rage. "Leave her alone," he snapped. The other man turned to Will, his face open with surprise, then smiled a sly, smug smile. "Temper, now," he said. "You fancy my little Dru, do you?" Will only glared in reply. Angelus nodded thoughtfully. "Very well," he told Drusilla. "But he's your responsibility. He's not to get loose." "He won't. I promise," Drusilla said, and she turned back to Will. The young man was not sure how much of his joy at being wrapped in Drusilla's arms was her strange enchantment and how much was his own growing desire. - - - - - - - - - - The night passed as though in a dream. These creatures, Drusilla and Angelus, lived in decadence and debauchery, and Will was the banquet upon which they dined. He let himself be dressed in fine clothes, and he drank their wine. He allowed Drusilla to claim his body, though he shuddered at the touch of her ivory skin. And then, when he was at last trembling and exhausted, when she sliced the skin inside his upper arm and gathered a measure of his blood in a glass, Will felt as though his desire for her would take away his mind completely. - - - - - - - - - - Days and nights passed, Will wasn't sure how long, as he never came entirely out of the strange trance Drusilla held him in. He was aware he spent some of the time bound in chains, and this was because Angelus feared what would happen if he could move about freely. He knew Drusilla extracted small amounts of his blood, never enough to do harm, and drank it, still warm. He spent a good deal of time in Drusilla's bed, her icy flesh tangled with his own. For some reason this amused Angelus. Then one night Will was invited to sit at table with Dru and Angelus, and another like themselves, a blonde female. They did not eat, as he did, but only drank wine. And bickered like family. Drusilla and the other, Darla, fought like alleycats over Angelus, who encouraged their spitefulness and jealousy. He laughed and teased, and at last took Darla to his bed. Dru sobbed bitterly, and nothing Will did or said could comfort her, though he would have thrown himself from a tower or across hot coals if he thought it would slow her torrent of tears. She at last fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep, forgetting, in her grief, to restrain him. And Will, overcome with anger, prowled the house in search of Angelus. Will found him, along with Darla, laughing, drunk, in Angelus�s quarters. The young man raged at them, furious for hurting his beloved as they had, but the two only laughed at his anger. "So," Angelus said when Will was done. "You care for her." "I love her," Will affirmed. Angelus nodded, his usual smug expression driving Will mad with frustration. "The truth is," Angelus said, "I've grown bored with her. Poor insane creature. She no longer amuses me. If I knew you would love her and care for her, I could leave her without a care." Will could hardly believe his ears. "I will," he promised. "You know I will." Angelus smiled, then pounced on the thief, dragging him, struggling, to Dru's room, where he chained him again. "The two of you come to me tomorrow," Angelus said, "and we will discuss it further." - - - - - - - - - - Will presented Dru and himself to Angelus the next evening as soon as he could, barely able to contain his excitement. "What is this about?" Dru asked warily. Angelus circled them slowly. "I've been worried about you, Drusilla," he said. "You seem distant these days, not like yourself at all." Drusilla shrugged. "If I asked," Angelus continued, "would you do what I wanted?" Drusilla considered a long moment. "I would," she said at last. Will felt his heart skip with joy, just a moment before Angelus seized him and bent his head back, exposing his throat. "I want you to drink," Angelus growled. Drusilla pounced on Will like a wild animal, and Will cried out as his beloved sank her teeth into his neck and his own hot blood spilled out. She sucked, and Will felt his veins, like burning wires in his body, as they protested the assault. He felt himself falling, and then he was in Angelus's arms, and the larger man had never looked so hideously monstrous. Then Angelus's shirt was open, and he had pierced his own breast, and scarlet blood ran sluggishly down his smooth, white skin. "Drink, William," Angelus said softly, and he pressed the young man's mouth to the wound. - - - - - - - - - - William awoke on the hearth, probably right where Angelus had dropped him. He felt different. Stronger, more confident. Better. It was as though he saw the earth and the mortals on it for the first time, saw that it was all beneath him, existing only to serve his whim. A soft sound drew his attention, and he turned to see Angelus and Dru, curled in one another's arms. William felt his heart fill with murderous jealousy. "I'll take her now," William said archly. "We'll go." "No," Angelus said thoughtfully. "I think you'll both stay." "But you promised," William snarled. Angelus smirked. "That was before I realized how amusing the two of you would be together," he said. "And you'd best learn soon the proper way to address your sire. Or I'll have to teach you. And trust me, you won't like the lesson." - - - - - - - - - - The needle tipped over 90 as the Imperial entered a downhill straightaway, and Spike reached for another cigarette. God, he hated dwelling on the past. He was never sure anymore how much was real and how much was what he wished was real. It hadn't all been bad with Angelus, he admitted. There was Crete, and Tuscany, and Egypt, and Malta. He wondered how much the Slayer knew of her former lover's past, and he laughed. Sometimes it was fun to have a history. Part 14- Angel: Adventures in Babysitting Main Menu   ~   Summer Vacation Series

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